June 23, 2007
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The New Friars
i was reading this book on the big purple bus on the way home from camp and crying, hoping none of the kids would see me and laugh. because that is annoying.
it is about dwelling among them. being Christ incarnate to people. this was written by a girl who went to Bolivia, lived and worked with prostitutes, and then came back to the US:
“It’s such a convenient conversation. sure, it strikes me. i read the staggering numbers, attach the unfathomable data to a story just to make it personal, and the somatic injustice rises up in my throat or turns in my stomach or threatens to keep me from sleep. there’s a reminder again that things are not the way they’re supposed to be, that all is not quite right. i am bothered by a sense somewhere between restlessness and calling. so i write essays and maybe even checks and i think about writing a letter to my Senator. i read the book or pick up the latest New York Times Magazine. over a drink i discuss the theological, social, and economic roots and implications. i pride myself in being aware. i appease my social conscience, thinking that my conversations and benefit dinners are all contributing to some global solution. and maybe they are. God, i pray they are.
and i keep eating. i even end in dessert. i close the book, put a The End on the story, toss it aside, pull the sheets back and climb into bed. there’s not much more i can do, not tonight. and lucky for me, i don’t have to. i have the unfathomable luxury of walking away, of signing off, of saying good night. while my conversations are coming to a neat, concise close, she’s tucking her kids in, putting her shoes on and taking the rest off. the red glow of her night is on and she’s tossed from one set of dirty hands to another. there are rules in place, rules against going without protection, rules against sexual violence. but once the door is closed, the only rule is her desire. she only knows that tomorrow her kids will again be hungry, and this is the cost of her love for them. yes, it matters today. it matters tonight, because there are still six hours until morning. and while we can afford those six hours, she cannot. if all i have to offer her is conversation, awareness, words, then yes, i will give the rest of my life to the talk. but it’s not. it can’t be. it’s not all i have and it’s not enough.”
At the end of my time in Brasil (May) i was thinking alot…realistically. i want to work with the poor. to tell the truth, i am not really sure why. why do i want to work in the inner city in Indianapolis? why Brasil in the first place? i really have no good answers for any of this. just a desire. and that is enough. i love teaching at the international school. but i am hoping that as God provides more teachers, i can have more time to reach out in other ministries in the churches…working in the favelas (ghettos). but here comes common sense. common sense says i can’t do much. it says that yeah, i can teach English, but after that i am useless. it says that i should stay in the US, get a good job, live simply, and give…i could easily provide for 3 or 4 Brasilian workers who could do so much more than a bumbling American. and i believe that this is also a high calling for many people. but my heart isn’t in those words. somehow, i can’t just do that. even if it does make good sense. maybe it was never about common sense at all, but about following God’s call to stay and give or to go and give. my heart moved within me when this book talked about going and living with those that are rejected by the society around them. about being God incarnate–God showing through me to those people. God came to us, as we are. He lived it. i am compelled to go. what all that means…i have yet to find out.
“We often seek the “worthy” poor, those who are spotless saints and complete victims. and until we find that person, we walk by the “unworthy” poor and think, “You’ve got yourself into that mess so you can get yourself out.” i’m just glad God doesn’t put the yardstick next to me that i sometimes put next to others before deciding whether i’ll help. on the contrary, Jesus taught us to extend help not just to those who are good to us but even to our enemies and oppressors–people with serious issues. maybe that’s why our response to the needy is such an accurate measure of our faith. we ultimately extent to others the sort of grace we have experienced through Christ.”
get this…”Naming Christ in order that Christ may name me.”
the call of the book was specifically to people who feel lead to one of these new kind of friar communities, but the general call was:
* incarnation–tearing down the insulation and becoming real to those in trouble
*devotion–making intimacy with Christ our all-consuming passion
*community–intentionally creating interdependence with others
*mission–looking outside ourselves
*marginalization–being countercultural in a world that beckons us to assimilate at the cost of our conscience
there is so much more. sometime stirring deep in my heart. not all of it is ready to come out yet. i can’t wrap words around it. but i want it.
