July 2002

Bread

Luis kept coming back to bread—the importance of the Eucharist, sitting down to a meal together. These are important symbolic acts, demonstrations of community and our Christian faith. But they should also represent an actual goal, ensuring that all can enjoy the abundant life promised by Jesus Christ.

Pastor Luis Perez was challenging his congregation, about 50 mostly indigenous Aymaran Bolivians gathered in their small, concrete-slab church. He asked, "What if one of our members needed an operation that cost $500?" Someone called-out from the congregation, "We would have to sell what we own to help pay."

Reading from Acts, Luis asked, "What would the world look like if we lived like this passage asks us to live?" He answered his own question: "Nobody would be hungry."

Many in Luis’s audience work as maids or laundresses. Some are bricklayers or carpenters. All are poor, but those with jobs consider themselves lucky for even a limited source of income. Many are indigenous and face a great deal of discrimination. Luis was speaking to people that continually face economic crisis and other hardships. And yet he was challenging them to reflect on how well they are living as a community and how closely they are following the example of the early church.

But he also challenged me. Of all the people in that room, I felt like the one most in need of hearing that message, an upper-middle class woman from the United States, with access to education, good nutrition, and every thing I've needed, as well as what I've wanted. If I am to call myself a Christian, I'd better heed Isaiah's words and recognize that unless I actively work toward achieving God's Kingdom here on earth, my praises and prayers are empty.

The Bible is a challenging text. If we were to live our lives according to the Sermon on the Mount, following the example of the disciples in Acts, our local communities and our world would look very different.

It's pretty scary stuff for someone like me. Taking criticisms from the Old Testament prophets seriously can make one uncomfortable. Acknowledging how the Gospel texts call for economic justice and a commitment by Jesus' followers to live their lives differently is daunting.

But as another pastor once told me, neither our faith nor the church should concern themselves with comfort. They should push us to look at ourselves, our lifestyles, our world with a critical eye. Faith should challenge us personally, in our daily decisions, and collectively, in how we make policy and relate to other nations and peoples.

Where I shop, how much energy I use, how closely I follow local and world events, how I vote, all of these individual decisions have an impact on people around me and those I have never met. It is important to work for social and economic justice and abundant life in our local communities. Our Christian faith demands that. But it is also important for me to recognize that community extends beyond my neighborhood or national boundaries. It extends to people I have never met and worlds I have never known. It requires that I recognize that I do have an impact on others in this world, even if I am unaware of it.

Bolivia and Peru. Cameroon, South Africa, and Lesotho. India, Egypt, and Palestine. Churches, NGOs, and grassroots groups from all of these countries are participating in Joining Hands Against Hunger, and the work of the early church is evident in their efforts. The Bolivian Joining Hands network counts among its goals: "To promote the creation of public discourse that is favorable to the better distribution of wealth." They ask that we North American Christians be up for the challenge—that we take a critical look at ourselves, how we build community and how we interact with the rest of the world.

Luis's wife, Lourdes, remembers that their hardest years as a family were when they couldn't afford milk for their three small children. Today they consider themselves relatively well-off compared to the still-hungry families that surround them. And though their own economic well-being is always in jeopardy, both ask "Are we following the example of the early church?" Luis challenges himself and his congregation. He is also the coordinator for Bolivia's Joining Hands Network, which is looking at the root causes of poverty in Bolivia. And I am learning that some of those root causes have to do with me.

Lourdes runs a soup kitchen, and though often exhausted from her studies at the local seminary, she refuses to give them up. "There are still people who are hungry," she says.

What does Luis's challenge mean for me, mean for all of us who have so much and are uncertain how to respond? All I can do is listen to God's call and try to resolve how my life will be different.