Participatory Grace

This morning at home in Melbourne, before standing under a wonderful warm shower, I filled the kettle from the tap and boiled the water without fire. And I was thankful!

Not so long ago I sat in the shade of a tree with a small group of people who have no taps in their homes – in fact some have no ‘home’, but rather a concrete or wooden box. The water they get comes from the ground, some will walk up to 8km a day to collect it and it will be contaminated with salt, arsenic and other chemicals from fertilisers. They drain it through a cloth to filter out the solids before using it. Some of them will collect firewood if they can find any in this arid place, the lucky one or two will buy and carry a gas bottle to their home. They’ll cook their lentils and leaves in the brackish orange water and they’ll wash themselves which will result in many having skin conditions. But this is not unusual; over 884 Million people around the world do not have access to clean water; every 21 seconds a child will die from water related illness. (That’s about 2 in the time you started reading.)

So when I come home and turn on a tap, believe me, I am thankful. But it wears off, my thankfulness is not long lasting, nor is it particularly transformative. After a few days, I take my fortune and my privilege for granted - that is until I go back overseas and see the people again.

It is great to be thankful, all the major faith traditions encourage believers to live lives of thankfulness, but, unless it is just about making myself feel good and religiously safe, it is not enough. It is good to reflect each day on what I am thankful for, but I cannot help but ask “so what”? Surely thankfulness is only a catalyst, (or perhaps the yeast).

My thankfulness has to translate into something else; something beyond words or it is just a temporary feel good. Thankfulness has to be embedded into who I am. Thankfulness has to inform what I do, how I act, it has to be brought to life.

Thankfulness is a catalyst for graciousness; graciousness is the act of extending respect, decency, (humanity) and undeserved favour to others. When thankfulness is held captive in my soul it must result in acts of acceptance, solidarity, respect and favour becoming normal practice in my living. This participatory grace does not ask: “who are you, where are you from, who do you worship, or even, why do you deserve it?” Instead my thankfulness transforms my selfish inclinations and responds in grace and love: “I have seen you - can I help?”

Words of thankfulness must translate into and inform acts of Participatory Grace.
_________

May God be gracious to us as we choose not to ignore;
May God equip us as we animate our thankfulness into acts of participatory grace;
May the God of Hope guide us – always.

Out of Afghanistan

I try to reflect on what on earth I am doing, and why: one of the comments I often make on reviews of programming is: what were the lessons learned and how will they impact future work? Perhaps, for a Christian, there is no better time to do this kind of reflection than this week, and no better position in which to breathe deeply than in the shadow of the cross, and the hope of the empty tomb.

So, after three weeks in Afghanistan what reflections do I have? (There are many but just a couple)

• People are resilient and hopeful: I met some people who have 'had it rough' for 20 years, living in a temporary camp in the desert, on the outside of town. They are stigmatised and held in suspicion because of their cultural heritage, not for any factual reason. They are held in a state of flux because they don't fit within the political agenda, they are not a priority. Yet, despite all this, they have formed a tight, disciplined community that is educating its children (including girls), employing its youth and feeding its people.
• People can be selfish and cruel: I'd like to not acknowledge it, but some people are driven by greed, some by religious fervor. But religious fanaticism is not limited to Muslims - despite the attempt by some to build this case - I know some equally fanatical Christians and Buddhists. Religion doesn't need to be something that divides us.
• Just because it's different, doesn't make it wrong: I often hear people saying that another's cultural practice is wrong, when what they really mean is it's different. I am not suggesting that culture is always right, but we do need to genuinely try and understand before we write off the beliefs and practices of others - sometimes, just maybe, there is something to learn from the other.
• It is possible to be a 'double agent': Officially I was representing a well respected International Non-Government Organisation (INGO), but it is impossible to divorce who I am from all that I do. So it was that I found myself explaining The Salvos in discussions with AusAID and other INGOs; discussing the vision and mission of The Salvation Army, and discussing their Aid and Development footprint and agenda.

Another trip is over, but my role of supporting the program to transform the lives of marginalised, ignored or forgotten people is refocused. Why do it? Because it matters... because it's my Easter.

There are people hurting in the world out there,

There are children crying and no-one to care...

If we close our eyes perhaps they'll go away?

Covenant, Vision and Investment

It’s Monday morning, the weekend seems to have escaped my notice and I spend a few minutes trying to tell myself that I am where I should be (at work) – as opposed to lounging in a hammock under a coconut tree – or anywhere else really!

So, in the start up process for another day, I ask myself why it matters! What about what I will do today will energise me and help me get on with it? Why does it matter? (This is not a defeated, ‘worm theology’, glass half-empty, woe is me introspection – it’s just a stock take, gee-up, refocus.)

In that process I reflect on the covenants I have made, the ‘bigger than me’ visions I believe in, the people that have invested in me – I want to be faithful to these. I want to make sure that the people that have sacrificed for me know that their ‘investment’ is making a difference.

Twenty-four years ago I covenanted with God “to live to win souls and make their salvation the first purpose of my life; to care for the poor, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, love the unlovable, and befriend those who have no friends”. Today this covenant still claims my energies and my purpose. I have the privilege of working to reveal God and God’s salvation priority in some pretty awful and hostile contexts.

And, claiming William Booth’s vision as my own: “While women weep, as they do now, I'll fight; while children go hungry, as they do now I'll fight... while there is a poor lost girl upon the streets, while there remains one dark soul without the light of God, I'll fight.” So, I look at my project list and remember that:

• With a team in Eastern Europe I am working to educate people about the evil of trafficking of persons, especially children and reclaiming the childhood of ‘poor lost girls upon the streets’.
• With the team in Afghanistan I work to empower and restore the dignity of women and girls who are owned, marginalised and disempowered.
• In Lebanon and Bosnia Hercogevina I work with a team to facilitate interfaith dialogue and learning with the aim of building relationships of peace that will eradicate hate filled conflicts that are based on ignorance - revealing how God is present.
• And, whilst the invisible, hungry street kids, (the 4 year old rag pickers, grimy oil scrapers and the defeated, empty-eyed sex toys) in the Rawalpindi bus depot continue to be exploited – I’ll work! 

So, get on with it Daryl!

SHINY SHOES

About 5 years ago my daughter Alexis came into my office at Mont Albert (Melbourne) to tell me that in the little second hand shop up the road there was a pair of new looking Doc Martin boots for sale - for $10.00. (Alexis has an eye for shoes: 43 Reasons Why I Need to Make Some Changes...)

I had been after a pair of these boots for a while – and now they have been my preferred option on every deployment. They are comfortable, I can walk in them for hours, and they are tough, and yet stylish!

But after a few distributions, walking through the dirt and garbage of Delmas 2, they were looking a little worse for wear this morning when my driver, who always has shiny shoes, told me it was time I had my shoes cleaned. So across the road we went to a man that I have seen sitting in the same spot every day I have been to town. He sits on a small wooden stool, with his shoe shine box in front of him and he never says a word. But every one that comes to this building knows him, and they all have shiny shoes.

From under his Dodgers baseball cap his dark eyes looked at my boots, and then glared at me! I’m sure I didn’t imagine the look of disgust – and so the process began. Again no words were shared; with a knock of his brush on the box my right foot came to rest on his box, a brush took away the grime, a cloth took away the dust, a second brush applied liquid polish, a second cloth dried the polish before black nugget was applied by hand and then with another knock the process was repeated on my left boot. The next knock told me it was time to change feet and a third brush shined the boots before a prized piece of felt came out of his shirt pocket to make the boots gleam. After the process was complete and with boots shinier than I have ever seen them he sat back and smiled a gap-toothed smile.

My shoe shine man sits at his post for about 8 hours a day, and in that time he will shine about 50 pairs of shoes, and will make about Gds 300.00 (that is about USD 7.50). He didn’t say much to me, he just made my boots shine, he smiled at me and as I handed him my Gds 20.00 (about $0.50) he said, “Merci, Monsieur”. In that moment I remembered why I was here.

I know it doesn’t make much sense, but it reminded me of a Celtic blessing I have spoken so often which finishes with the words:

May Christ who loves with a wounded heart open your heart to love.
May you see the face of Christ in everyone you meet,
And may everyone you meet see the face of Christ in you.

Doubting with Integrity

I can't remember the number of times in my young years as a Christian that I was told that I should have no doubts. But I did, and I do...

I grew up in a boarding school that taught me a strict, disciplined christianity: and whilst that sounds bad, it wasn't. My experiences at the school taught me many things that benefit me today. But it also filled me with a sense of guilt if I didn't always get the religious part right.

I read recently of another young man, who "came up to the well-known American preacher Harry Emerson Fosdick, and confessed with some distress - that he no longer believed in God. 'So you are an atheist,' said Fosdick. 'Describe to me the kind of God you don't believe in. ‘The youth then outlined the childish ideas about God in whom he could no longer believe. 'My boy,' said Fosdick, 'that makes two of us. I don't believe in that God either.'

Don't get too worried, yet, I do believe in God, and I do know this God to be intimately engaged in my life. But the God I know is much different to the one of my youth. And I think that the God I am trying to know likes doubt... the God I am trying to understand, (but let's face it never will) applauds the person who, with integrity of heart and mind, questions, yells and argues with the reality that is life and God.

I think that one of the origins of doubt is integrity. It is not wrong, or sinful, to doubt, we must continually challenge long-held beliefs, and "sacred cows". The only faith that is worthwhile is that which is not afraid to question anything. Nothing is too sacred for honest analysis. Doubt which springs from integrity is very healthy.

So my pet subject of integrity raises its head again... after all it's all about integrity!