30 Hour Famine

I'm not all that easily amazed, but this Sunday I was pretty blown away. But let me start at the beginning...

Last summer my frustration was building over taking people to Africa and having them come back and resume their normal, American lives. I was even more frustrated that I would go over to Africa summer after summer and return to my normal, American life. But then a few weeks later at Soulfest I was impressed with the attention and priority they gave to certain humanitarian relief organizations. It was there I was first introduced to Invisible Children and To Write Love On Her Arms and Zack with The Amazing Change. I met people at lots of different booths with lots of different organizations that were making a difference in the lives of the poor and oppressed around the world.

That fall we decided to give those organizations a little face time at youth group. Every couple weeks we'd introduce a different ministry making a difference in people's lives and challenge the kids to find a need they could get passionate about and do something about it. It was about this time that I picked up a little book called The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne. In the book he shared his story of how he came to actually live like he believed what Jesus said. He speaks of working in leper colonies in India with Mother Theresa, and helping save a group of homeless families living in a condemned church, and traveling to Iraq to love on the innocent people effected by war. He challenged me to live like I believe what Jesus said, love society's outcasts, give what I have to the poor, trust that God will take care of my needs. And that's when I met Katy.

The Upper Room is a Christian ministry to the poor that gives everything away, food, clothes, household items, toys for kids, everything goes out absolutely free. Yet Katy told me, in all the years they've been open God has always provided for all their needs. She tells me amazing stories of all that's God's done to change people's lives and the community around them. Since working there I've learned so much about what it means to "be" charity and how, like Shane says in his book, people don't help the poor because people don't know the poor.

So in our efforts to introduce the youth group kids to what's really going on in the world, we decided to do World Vision's 30 Hour Famine with our group. (yes, I'm finally getting to that) So on Friday after lunch we started fasting. We gathered that evening at the church and spent the rest of the Famine together learning about hunger and poverty around the world and how we can help. Saturday morning we visited Katy at the Upper Room and helped pack up the extra winter coats to send to Africa. We went on a food scavenger hunt to collect food and other items to donate. We learned that 29,000 children die each day from malnutrition and preventable causes and wallpapered our sanctuary with fingerprints for each of those children. We prayed for the countries around the world where World Vision is helping. And then, 30 (and a half) hours later we broke fast together.

Famine Sunday

Sunday morning we were given the sermon time to share our experiences with the congregation. We shared a little bit about what we did, but mostly we shared our hearts about these pressing issues, issues that we can do something about. One of the students, Kirk, talked about why he had given up going to a concert at his school where he could get free pizza and kool-aid to come to church and fast for 30 hours. We shared about the 29,000 fingerprints around the room and how just $1 a day could feed a child for a day. A World Vision rep spoke about her recent trip to Africa and lined up child sponsorship packets across the front of the stage for people to take. And then I stood up and spoke bold words from the Scriptures, much bolder than I felt to be honest. I said it's more blessed to give than receive, and if you have 2 coats give one to somebody who needs it. I read from James 1:22, "Do not just listen to the word and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says." I read what's quickly becoming a new favorite, 1 John 3:17-18, "If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth."

That's when it started. As we closed with a video challenging people that they have one life, do something with it, people got out of their seats and came right up front to take a child sponsorship packet. And not just one or two, they kept coming. Afterward, people who've never really talked to me before kept coming up to me asking about the Upper Room and how they wanted to take their kids down to help out. Young kids were asking me how they could donate their clothes to the Upper Room. One lady even handed me her expensive Anne Klein coat saying, "I don't need this." I was so overwhelmed, and excited at the same time. I was so proud of the kids and youth leaders who went 30 hours without food so others could eat, and as a result inspired a congregation to love "not with words or tongue but with actions". Oftentimes my expectations end with what man can accomplish, but this weekend I was overwhelmed by God. Now I have my own story to tell Katy.

[Here are a few links to sponsor children with World Vision, Compassion International, or Hope's Promise, Namibia.]

The tragedy of social capital

I'm growing quite disturbed with a tendency I see in our culture, mostly because I see it in myself. To put it simply, I'm speaking of the tendency to surround ourselves with "beautiful" people to make ourselves look cool. We make friends or associate ourselves with people who are beautiful, or talented, or popular to improve our social capital (our value in society). The problem with that is it only feeds the concept that value is based on beauty or talent or popularity. It becomes something extrinsic, so if we're not born with it (physical appearance, athleticism, personality, etc) then we have to fake it (fashion, makeup, working out, watching our waistline, etc). One of the ways we fake it is by having other "cool" people think that we're "cool". It's all quite fickle and foolish, yet it keeps creeping up on me.

Instead, I want to value people because of their intrinsic beauty, because God made them special and that alone makes them beautiful. I don't want to feed society's ideal that value is external. Jesus loved people who were social outcasts. If it were today, he'd probably have disciples that were fat, geeky, unkempt, and poor. He saw past the external to their intrinsic beauty. He loved people because they were all valuable to God. That's how I want to love people, but too often it becomes mercenary, for my own gain. I end up building relationships to increase my social capital. And even relationships with "uncool" people are not for their sake, but so that I might appear compassionate. If someone could actually love people solely for what he could give and not for what he gets out of it, he would probably be the most different guy on the planet.

So I'm working on that, but it's not easy fighting against these selfish habits I've been raised to accept by my flesh and by this culture. But then, if love and grace were easy we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

Concerning fear, love, and loss

So I was just watching one of my favorite movies, Good Will Hunting, and I was struck by a conversation that paralleled some things that have recently been stirring my thinking. In a conversation between Will, an emotionally detached, young genius, and Sean, his shrink, Will asks if Sean ever wondered what his life would be like if he had never married his wife, who had died of cancer two years earlier. Sean goes on to reply that he never regretted the years of joy because of the years of pain, but he would've regretted seeing this girl in a bar and never knowing what would've happened if he had only talked with her. Meanwhile, Will doesn't want to give his heart to this girl, Skylar, because he's afraid that if she finds out about all his imperfections then she'll leave. He's not convinced the potential joy is worth the hypothetical loss.

That reminds me of these words I recently wrote to a friend:

Why is it that love always has to end in loss? Truly the tragic curse of the soul, our greatest hurt bound intimately with our greatest joy. But I suppose it's destined to work out that way. So then we're left with "it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." I guess I can accept that.

This goes right along with that quote from Pascal [reference earlier post]. If we constantly fear the pain of loss destined in the future then we will never experience the joy of love in the present. Or on the other hand, as with my friend and I, if we cling to our grief, remembering past loves, we miss those opportunities of new loves right in front of us. Or as Sean, the shrink, would say, it's time to put your money back on the table and see what kind of cards you get.

Love Advice from the Gridiron

You often learn the most profound things from the oddest places. So it should be no big surprise that my recent discoveries concerning love come from none other than the football field. No surprise to some who know of my slightly less than fanatical love of football, but surprise to me nonetheless. As many of you probably know, my New England Patriots lost in the divisional round of the playoffs after winning the last 2 Super Bowls. They were on their way to an unprecedented 3 consecutive Super Bowl victories when they were stopped short by their first playoff loss in at least 5 years. Now I've experienced playoff losses before, even a Super Bowl loss, but none struck me quite as hard as this one, and that's what took me by surprise. But that's also what helped me to realize that grief is proportional to love. You know exactly what I mean because those people who right now are saying, "Oh good grief" really have no love for the game, or a particular team. They say that those who can utter the words "It's only a game" have no love for the game. And those who say "There's always next year" just don't quite understand. But for those of us who have invested so much into following their team from free agency, to draft day, to training camp, through pre-season, the ups and downs of the regular season, and triumphantly into the post-season, there is nothing but this season. One friend told me this year he's been following the Minnesota Vikings since their induction to the league in 1961. For those fans, affectionately termed by some as fan-atics, there is nothing greater than watching your team hoist the Lombardi trophy in the air surrounded by confetti in team colors. And it's the ever present hope of that scene that causes us to carry on. But as there is always joy in love, so there is also grief. Two books that I have read recently have also helped greatly along these lines, A Severe Mercy by Sheldon VanHauken and A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. Grief and loss are not one in the same, nor should they be feared as though they are not a natural part of love. Grief helps clarify and identify love. We shouldn't run from it as though to cut it off before it's natural term, nor over-extend it as though to keep our beloved alive. It's the continuing process of love, not a state or a phase, but an ongoing process. It's a necessary part of the journey of love. I don't know what action I mean to imply by these thoughts. Perhaps it would shed a little light on what it means to "mourn with those who mourn" if we really knew the true extent of love. Perhaps it would help us to love a little deeper understanding that loss is inevitable and grief is a consummation of love. Or perhaps just to stop telling me "it's only a game, get over it", to figure out what things you grieve over with the thought of loss, and to embrace them with all your heart. Because it's true that deeper love brings greater loss, but it also brings greater joy, and I wouldn't trade that for the world.