Sunday, October 11, 2009

Brokeness and Fellowship

Reading: academic journal articles times a billion (the end of semester looms), A Common Prayer ~ Leunig

Listening to: Live under lights and wire ~ Sandra McCracken, Love was here first ~ Carolyn Arends (Thanks, Carolyn for another superb album!)

--------------

I have spent so many years learning to live with unanswered questions and prayers. My faith has grown incredibly in dry, desert-like places. And everytime I start to think I have it sorted, that I'm getting better at trusting and letting go... I realise I don't and I'm not.

The last few months have been hard and dark. I have experienced a new episode of the clinical depression and anxiety that I have struggled with on and off for around 12 years. And while there is a daily battle against hopelessness, fear, lethargy and lack of concentration; the biggest battle is against my own mind and soul.

And while I'm struggling, I see so many around me in pain and it feels some days like the world is falling apart....

- There's my dear friend and mentor who despite having so much hope and love and passion to give, is trapped in a body riddled with the ever mysterious Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.

- A couple I know, having both survived serious alcoholism, substance abuse and addictions, came to faith. Now they continue to struggle against temptation, the physical and psychological after-affects of their past, mental illness and financial debt, among other things. Last week our small group heard that every time we pray for them things get worse in the ensuing days... causing us to pray even harder...

- Another dear friend admitted to me recently that she has taken drugs and forced herself to throw up in an attempt to manage her weight issues (caused largely by a medical condition), because her mum constantly hassles her about her weight.

- A woman who has already endured more than her share of injustice, abuse and pain in her life, is watching her 12-year-old son attempt suicide multiple times and fall through the cracks of the broken mental health system.


Just to name a few....


Despite my lack of understanding and answers, there is one lesson I am learning at the moment: Our brokeness is a place for grace and love and joy and hope to arrive in fresh ways.

For a number of months my best friend and I had only been exchanging random texts and emails that were few and far between. I accused her of not being the kind of friend I needed at a critical time. She graciously accepted my accusation and apologised for her lack of follow-through. Soon after, I discovered that while she had no idea what I was going through, I had no idea that she had been struggling with deep and painful wounds herself.

Amongst the tears and apologies, I began to catch a glimpse of an important truth. Whilst we might fear sharing our pain with others because of their own burdens, it is precisely in the sharing of pain that the miracle of God's hope and peace begin to break through.

As my friend and I became more honest with each other, what could have been an overwhelming amount of pain miraculously became easier to handle. I began to have a sense of hope and peace that passed all understanding. On Wednesday nights, as my small group gathers, we share and cry and pray and hope together. Somehow, in our combined brokenness we are not overwhelmed, we are encouraged and sustained. I can't explain why this happens or how, but I know without a doubt that God is - and that he is breaking through the brokeness.

So while life is hard, while we might feel so broken there is no hope, while faith does not seem to always hold the answers..... I pray that we can allow ourselves to be broken. I pray we can allow ourselves to share our brokeness. And I pray that in our shared pain we will witness God's miraculous grace and love and peace and joy and hope.


'God bless the lost, the confused, the unsure, the bewildered, the puzzled,
the mystified, the baffled, and the perplexed. AMEN' ~ Leunig

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Doubt and Questions and Hope

Reading: Wrestling the Angels ~Carolyn Arends (for the 10th time!)
Listening to: The Day of Small Things ~Alli Rogers




The day is coming
Darkness is turning to light

Questions are still questions
Doubt endures
But somehow the hope is relentless


The light reveals a new chapter
The story is still being written with each step

Questions are still questions
Doubt endures
But somehow grace breaks through

And though the sun rises
There is still darkness alive in us
And though the sun rises
Questions are still questions
Doubt endures
But somehow love frees us

Sunday, July 5, 2009

"Good News About Injustice" by Gary Haugen



Here is a book review I recently wrote for Nurture magazine (a Christian Education National publication).



So often we can become complacent about the injustices in the world because it all seems too hard and too complex. How could we possibly make any difference?
Gary Haugen is well qualified to speak about injustice in the world. Even before founding International Justice Mission in 1997, Haugen witnessed some of the worst stories of modern inhumanity. While working with the civil rights division of the U.S. Department of Justice he was seconded to lead a team of investigators into Rwanda weeks after the genocide ended in 1994. He travelled to the Philippines to investigate atrocities committed by soldiers and police as part of the Lawyers Committee for Human Rights. He worked with South African church leaders on the National Initiative for Reconciliation during the 1985-1986 state of emergency.
In “Good News About Injustice” Gary Haugen shows explicitly how ordinary Christians, like you and me, can rise up to God’s call for justice. Haugen has written a straightforward book about the realities of injustice in our world, the biblical mandate for compassion and justice, and practical ways that Christians can be involved in real change.
International Justice Mission, which Haugen founded and directs, is a human rights agency made up of Christian lawyers, investigators and social workers that secure justice for victims of various forms of oppression all around the world. The experiences of this organisation form the foundations of this book’s explorations into what it means to seek justice. In the book Haugen describes the two major stages he sees for practical involvement: exposing and intervening. We all have the capacity to research and make ourselves aware of injustice, then to speak out. There is also ways that both professionals and lay people can be involved in the actual work of freeing the oppressed – whether it is using professional skills or supporting a fulltime worker who is.
This book is confronting. This book confronts some difficult issues and raises questions that we might not have encountered before in our comfortable existence. In the foreword, John Stott even says “I defy anybody to emerge from exposure to this book unscathed. In fact, my advice to would-be readers is ‘Don’t! Leave this book alone’ - unless you are willing to be shocked, challenged, persuaded and transformed.”[1] But what is most remarkable, is that this book is filled with hope. Haugen constantly refers back to the Bible and clearly lays out, not only God’s call for justice and our place in it, but also God’s redemptive power and hope in Christ.
This book is necessary. As a Christian studying in the aid and development field I was desperate for a godly perspective on the immense need I see for Christians to stand up and take action. As Gary points out early in his book Christians have both a profound and dark history when it comes to injustice. Some of history’s most influential leaders on justice issues have been believers – William Wilberforce, David Livingstone, William and Catherine Booth, Martin Luther King Jr.. And yet, Haugen believes, Christians now often “sit in the same paralysis of despair as those who don’t even claim to know a saviour – and in some cases, we manifest even less hope”[2]. This need not be the case though, as the book demonstrates. We have a hope to offer the world. As John Stott says in the foreword, “The book doesn’t leave us in suspense or with doubts, the cynicism, even the despair which the world’s monumental evil provokes in many Christian people. Instead, we are given solid grounds for hope”[3].
If you are grappling with questions to do with faith and social justice; or if you simply want a practical book to help you with ideas for how to engage in the fight for justice in our world than this is an invaluable book.
But, be warned: This book will move you!


[1] Gary Haugen, Good News About Injustice (Downers Grove, Ill.: Inter Varsity Press, 1999), p. 11
[2] Ibid., p. 14.
[3] Ibid., p. 11.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

15th Anniversary of the Rwandan Genocide

Tuesday marked the 15th anniversary of the beginning of the Rwandan Genocide.

As a commemoration, I am posting a piece of writing I did last year for a university writing competition. The theme was It mattered then, and it still matters now..... May we never forget this tragedy and the lessons we need to learn from it....


Imagine being held down and watching as your neighbour killed your child, using a machete to slowly cut off each limb before finally decapitating them. Imagine then being raped repeatedly before having your genitals cut off and being left to die. Could you imagine a group of teenage boys coming in to your girls’ dorm, herding you together, before opening fire with machine guns? Could you imagine surviving and lying beneath the bleeding, dead bodies of your friends, waiting till it is safe to escape? Is it possible for you to imagine being a four-year-old hiding in the shadows watching as your father is slowly murdered with blunt clubs and machetes, then seeing your mother raped to death? Could you possibly imagine begging, not for your life to be saved, but to die by a bullet rather than a machete; and then having to pay money for the bullet that will kill you? Can you imagine the putrid smell of a million bodies polluting the air of an entire country? Or seeing thousands of bodies clogging up a river, so it cannot run its course?

Can you imagine yourself hearing these stories, seeing these pictures, then turning off the television and going about your normal, comfortable life; eating your lavish food and complaining about the small taxes you have to pay to your democratic government? Can you imagine?

Fourteen years ago a small African country came onto the international radar for all the wrong reasons. But for the most part, it was only a blip. It appeared, and then as the world turned its head in apathy, it disappeared again. Eventually, the truth began to surface in graphic images and horrifying stories.

Genocide. Dare we use the word again? Could history really repeat itself as a people attempt to exterminate a whole group of others…. and the world stands by and watches. ‘Acts of genocide’ or ‘genocide’? Whatever the politicians, media or historians decide to call it, it happened. Fourteen years ago, in the small African country of Rwanda a tragedy occurred. And though the world was slow to act, slow to understand, we must now see the full tragedy. We must hear the stories. Because what happened in Rwanda mattered then, and it still matters now.
What would possess someone sitting in their nice, comfortable, middle-class existence to obsessively read and research every story they can find about such a gruesome, evil part of history? Why overwhelm our ordered, mostly logical lives with the evidence of immense chaos and tragedy in a tiny insignificant country on the other side of the world? Why does my heart break, and yet I cannot stop seeking the truth, cannot turn away from the horrific stories and repugnant pictures?

This is a story of a country so torn apart by hatred and greed that it turned a people to violence and war.

This is a story about a world so filled with greed, apathy, politics and rationalism that it can fail to save a million souls from the hands of a murderous government.

In April 1994, I was an eleven year old, living in a comfortable and quiet street in the outer western suburbs of Sydney. I was completely oblivious to the fact that an entire world away thousands of children, and adults of all ages, were fighting for survival.

In April 1994, the fragile peace agreement that was holding back civil war in Rwanda was broken one night with the death of the president, Juvenal Habyarimana. The plane in which the President was travelling crashed mysteriously over Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. It was this event that became the signal used to initiate a strategic, methodical and planned assault on the Tutsi people, and those moderates who were seen as sympathizers of the Tutsi’s. For the next 100 days, chaos and terror reigned in Rwanda. Hutu extremists took control of the country and preceded to secretly order the extermination of all Tutsis. The Rwandan Patriotic Force, a rebel army made up of Rwandan refugees (largely Tutsi in origin) also began to fight its way towards Kigali. Caught in the middle was the small UN peacekeeping force sent to Rwanda to oversee the implementation of the Arusha Peace agreement. Whilst civil war and murder happened around them, this force attempted to save those they could from danger and alert the outside world to the reality of what was happening.
There is a long, complicated history that led to the events in Rwanda. Years of ethnic hatred and violence. Years of political factions, propaganda and civil war. Years of intimidation, corruption and planning. And there is also a long, complicated history since the events of 1994. Nothing about Rwanda’s story appears simple, black or white, good or evil. Yet the more I discover about this period of history, a simple question keeps rising within me….. Why did it take so long for the powerful international community to act?

From what is now known, many people in the UN and in separate governments around the world had access to information about what was happening in Rwanda. A lot of time was spent debating what kind of response the international community should give…. And very little response was actually given, until it was largely too late.

In the fourteen years since the Rwandan genocide, much has been documented and debated. The most important work, I think, comes from those who were there, those who witnessed the atrocities, and those who took the time to stay and experience life with the Rwandan people in the months following. The stories of survival, of utter devastation, of living amongst death are the most poignant. So, too, are the stories of moving forward, of reconciliation, of the possibility of hope. I am constantly amazed at the resilience of people who have been abandoned by the rest of the world. What power and redemption are in the hearts of a people who can pick up the remnants of a life and seek to move ahead. And yet the story of the Rwandan genocide is far from over.

Lt. Gen. Romeo Dallaire believes that, “at its heart, the Rwandan story is the story of the failure of humanity to heed a call for help from an endangered people”[1]. His autobiography is one of the most profound works published about Rwanda. Dallaire, the Force Commander of UNAMIR, the UN mission stationed in Rwanda leading up to and during the genocide, is explicitly damning of the response of the international community, and believes that if intervention had been quicker, much of the tragedy could have been averted. Reading of his experiences living in the midst of war and devastation, with little ability to intervene or attract the attention of the outside world, moved my mild interest in this part of history to outright anger and instilled a deep passion to bring attention to this story.

The stories of the Rwandan Genocide are an indispensable lesson of history. The international response to the stories are too. I believe that it is critical to study these events, if we, as the world community desire to improve human rights, human dignity and seek equality for all humans across the globe. In Histories Herodotus says that the purpose of his writing is “to prevent the traces of human events from being erased by time”[2]. The cliché that knowledge is power would indeed become true if history drove us to action. What possesses me to obsessively read and research every story that I can find about such a gruesome, evil part of history? The answer lies in my hope that the more aware we become of tragedies such as what happened in Rwanda, the more we will be driven to speak out, and act, against injustice.

As Dallaire has said, “Too many parties have focused on pointing the finger at others, beyond the perpetrators, as scapegoats for our common failure in Rwanda….none of that will bring back the dead or point the way forward to a peaceful future. Instead, we need to study how the genocide happened not from the perspective of assigning blame – there is too much to go around – but from the perspective of how we are going to take concrete steps to prevent such a thing from ever happening again”[3]. What happened in Rwanda was a tragedy for so many reasons. However, hope and redemption can be found if we honour the stories of Rwanda’s history and learn from them.

“Like Leontius, the young Athenian in Plato, I presume that you are reading this because you desire a closer look, and that you, too, are properly disturbed by your curiosity. Perhaps, in examining this extremity with me, you hope for some understanding, some insight, some flicker of self knowledge – a moral, a lesson, or a clue about how to behave in this world: some such information. I don’t discount the possibility, but when it comes to genocide, you already know right from wrong. The best reason I have come up with for looking closely into Rwanda’s stories is that ignoring them makes me even more uncomfortable about existence and my place in it. The horror, as horror, interests me only insofar as a precise memory of the offence is necessary to understand its legacy.”
- Philip Gourevitch[4]

Rwanda is still a tiny, insignificant country in the middle of Africa, fighting for survival. Poverty, war and injustice still prevail every day. The emergency is over, and so the international community turns away…. Our compassion is diverted elsewhere, and that small African country continues it’s journey of restoration mostly alone. If the stories of the Rwandan Genocide mattered then, what will you, and I, do about it now?


[1] Lt. Gen. Romeo Dallaire, Shake Hands With The Devil (London: Arrow Book, 2003), 516.
[2] Herodotus, Histories (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 3.
[3] Dallaire, Shake Hands, 512-13.
[4] Philip Gourevitch, We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families (London: Picador, 1999), 19.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

A Historic Day

I am not American, but I am still greatly excited and moved by this moment in History. I am so grateful I got to see this day and witness, if only through the TV, Obama's inauguration.
Although there is a monumental task facing Obama and his new administration, his speeches both on the day he was elected and the day he was sworn in speak of hope. This, to me is one of the most profound things about Obama. Despite all that the US and Obama himself faces, He retains a hope and idealism; an idealism not steeped in denial, but in deep belief and conviction.
I was moved that Obama spoke directly not only to Americans but to the whole world. That he did not shy away from speaking to the difficult issues of Bush's legacy but also openly welcomed a new relationship between the US and the other nations of the world.
Whether people voted for Obama or not, I hope that all will recognise the importance of the new hope that this change can bring. Changes not only to the US, but to the whole globe; to poverty, justice, education, health care, economics and politics worldwide.
I am not a naive idealist. I recognise that Obama will fall short, as all Presidents and administrations are bound to do, but I have a firm belief in the power of hope and faith to be a force to be reckoned with.
I am also reminded today that nothing can change without others enacting this hope as well. One man, with all the vision in the world, is not enough. Those of us, like Obama, who believe in and look forward to real change must move to engage as well.
I look forward to many more historic days to come in the next four to eight years.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”

– Martin Luther King Jr.


It is one thing to be passionate about social justice and global issues, to read vigorously about many ideas and think you want to change the world.... a whole other idea to actually move to make a difference. While I am completing a university degree that will give me skills to work in the international development sector, I also need to be consistent about speaking out and acting on the issues that I consider important.
Do I actively tell people about the injustices I know about? Do I critique, analyse and make judgments consistently about what I see, learn and read? Does my lifestyle reflect what I believe about justice, simplicity and the environment? Am I so moved and passionate that I can’t help but be vocal to all I meet about the things that matter? Unfortunately, most of the time the answer is no. Why is that? And why do I find it so hard to be vocal about my faith, when God has made such a difference in my life and the hope I have could change so many lives?
I find it easy to condemn others ignorance and apathy, but the reality is that I am often just as apathetic. In fact, if I have knowledge am I not more responsible to act than those that do not know? My life is so comfortable, I am so blessed, that it is hard to get up and move beyond my comfort.
But I must.
One of my goals for this new year is that I move more and make more noise about the things that matter. I want to live up to the old African proverb that says, ‘when you pray, move your feet.’ I want to do this because I see injustices. I want to do this because there is hope. I want to do this not out of guilt, but because I know I’m blessed. I am grateful for all I have but I want the gratefulness to move me.
So this year I will commit to asking the hard questions of myself and those around me. I will commit to challenging my apathy and lack of passion.
I will commit to doing something!

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Hope

A couple of nights ago I spent a while with a friend discussing the times in our lives when we have wanted to walk away from God and stop believing.

My friend’s life has been far from easy.... so many things have happened in her life that are completely unjust, unfair and potentially soul-destroying. She has so many reasons why no longer believing in God or being a ‘Christian’ seems like a justifiable response.

She is a miracle.

Despite what she has faced, she has within her a faith that is miraculous. She still believes in God, she still trusts him, she is part of a church – a spiritual home, she has found love and partnership in a man to share the rest of her life with. She is broken, but amazingly hopeful.

I, too, have had dark moments in my life where I no longer wanted to believe. There are times when I have been so hopeless, that suicide seemed like the best option. I believed God had abandoned me. And yet the only reason I am alive today is that God intervened. I am a miracle.

While my friend shared with me her irreconcilable pain and difficulties, we wondered aloud how we still had hope, how we still saw beauty in life. Why is it that we still cling to God and his promises, despite our best efforts to run the other way? The answer, it seems: only God.

God, in his infinite love, has mysteriously gifted us with faith and hope. My friend cannot explain it. I cannot explain it. Yet, God is. And we are grateful. Our human minds still cannot understand or fathom some things, we never will this side of heaven, I guess. But the only way for me, and my friend, to live is to hold onto the mystery of God and his love. I can’t explain it, and it will seem illogical to the world, but in the face of pain and injustice I will go on believing in hope and love. I will go on believing because I have seen evidence of God in my friend’s life.... and she truly is a miracle.