Torn apart

I feel tired almost all the time. Returning last night on a bus from Trinidad it dawned on me that it is not just the travelling or the work that makes me tired. It is the weight of all the problems people share with me wherever I go. Part of my job this year has been to identify where and how Peace and Hope can get more involved in lowland indigenous communities. On these trips I also speak at local churches. We have a workshop we do with them where we work through a self-definition and evaluation of the church and then we talk about the biblical mandate for the church to serve in the community as the incarnation of Christ in the world today and how that means we need to get involved in the issues that face our communities. Every place I go people get excited as they come to this realization that it is part of their Christian testimony to struggle with their people in their fight for their rights. For most it is the first time that they have been told that loving your neighbor is not just avoiding being mean to them or just acting friendly. As an oppressed people themselves it is a liberating experience to come to this realization. Can you imagine the torment inside a person who sees so much suffering every day and believes in a God who they think doesn't care? A God who only shows love by helping them escape when they die? 

Being a part of that awakening is a humbling experience for which I am very thankful. But as I leave each one of these places, I can't help but think about the huge powers that these people are up against. I think of the Tacana people who's land has been overrun by illegal loggers and whose leaders have been coopted by the government and bought by the loggers to look the other way. I think of the T'simane people whose leaders have also been seduced by power and money and have sold off all their natural resources and ignore their people's cries for justice when others begin to settle illegally on their land. There are the Yuracare, Yuki, and Mojeños who live in the TIPNIS, a national park which they also have title to. They are currently facing a powerful government willing to do whatever it takes to build a road through the middle of their territory in order to open land to illegal settlers, drill for oil and (many suspect) to expand coca and cocaine production. There are the Ayoreos, who have been virutually forgotten by governement and left out of society. The Guaranies who just in the last decade have come out of slavery to cattle ranchers and sugar cane plantations and still feel the effects every day. All of these people and their struggle for access to health care, education, and dignity in a world that constantly tells them they are worthless and that it would be better just to forget who they are. These very brief surface descriptions can't even begin to give you a picture of the depth and complexity of these issues and the incredible feeling of powerlessness bred into these people over the last couple centuries. 

Yet in all of these places we have found the Church. I believe that this is the only place hope can truly be found and that the Church can be a voice in this wilderness and a power to transform lives and systems. However, in almost every case the local church is incredibly weak due to many things such as their isolation, the overwhelming power of Western urban consumerism especially over the youth, and the many effects of the first missionary efforts like dependency, lack of leadership, inter-church divisions, and a gospel which deplores their cultural heritage and denies that they can be agents of transformation in their society. 

That is a lot to lay on one heart. I told Ann the other day that I am done making new visits because I don't think I can stand hearing more cries of despair and hopelessness. It is hard because every place and every person pulls on my heart. I feel for them and I want to stay and help. But I realize that for the majority our little 2 or 3 day workshop may be the only thing we can give them. You may think, "well at least it is a start," but you have no idea how many people and NGOs and missions have come to "get them started" then left and everything stayed the same. 

This is where I get to the point of despair, where all I know to do is pray. I feel like this is what was going through Jesus' head when he saw the multitudes like sheep without a shepherd and he had compassion on them. His response? Pray. With our popular, sugar-coated gospel we have always understood Jesus' words about the plentiful harvest with few workers to mean there are lots of souls to be saved for heaven and not enough people to tell them about Jesus. While this is true, that is only part of what Jesus was getting at. Within the context of this passage (Matthew 8-10) we see a) Jesus' ministry was both in word and deed, and b) that these verses on the harvest and the workers are a bridge connecting us (His disciples) to his ministry. We are called to the same mission as Jesus which is to proclaim the Word in both our speach and our ministry to those in need. That little Bible rabbit trail was just to say that when I visit these places and get to know these people I feel that burden for more workers and I feel just how small and inadequate I am. And the only thing left to do is pray. But man, is it exhausting. 

That is why we hope in the year to come to narrow our focus down to one people group or region to work with, which will of course tear my heart to shreds to have to tell many who have become my friends that I am going to focus my work on other people, but we can't help in any of these places if we try to do it in all of them all at once. It is better to pick one place and do it well. At least that is how we envision our ministry. Right now we have no idea where that will be. This November I have two key trips to revisit people who are high on the priority list and see what comes up. Pray for clear vision and wisdom and that my heart can get some rest!