But the visitors won’t recognize
that from their tour buses. The Petén is home to a recently
discovered Mayan site, El Mirador, which will dwarf Tikal—the
most visited archeological site here. Yet the Petén has
a poverty rate of 80-90 percent, and most people have received
no benefit from this increase in travel.
The urge for security and the sometimes cynical view that accompanies
it are not peculiar to Guatemala. In mid-September the renewed
attacks in Iraq continue to create a growing sense of unease in
the United States as well as incalculable sorrow for those families
that suffer losses. In the United States, poverty is up for the
third year in a row. Increased border patrols and officers; fortified
walls; sophisticated systems for tracking and capturing illegal
aliens; red, yellow, and orange alerts; all add to taxpayer costs
but do not appear to have had the desired effect. Three million
illegal immigrants will cross the southern border this year, and
our own president says he cannot guarantee security.
One has to ask if the investment in all the paraphernalia designed
to give us security is worth the expenditure in treasure and lives.
Surely with our two-thousand-year history of espousing love and
understanding as taught by Jesus Christ we could do better—although
still a dream, it is a dream not only worth pursuing, it is demanded
of us as Christians.
Ultimately we see how powerless we really are; we realize that
neither our national strength nor barbed wire and walls can in
truth grant us the tranquility and security we crave. We arrive
at what some will find mushy and soft—practicing the love
of Christ; but a radical love that extends to all of God’s
creation; a love that forbids us to separate people on the basis
of our own fallible interpretations; a love that sees no difference
between peoples of different faiths; a love that extends care
for all the world’s citizens and not just those who can
afford it. I wish at times there were something else, something
that had as yet not been said or written, something new that blew
us away with its clarity. We can probably do no better than the
psalmist who wrote: “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in his word I hope” (Ps 130: 5). Waiting and hoping
for the Lord? Security and tranquility in the Lord? How quaint,
but we know the truth of it. While we wait and hope, let us also
work to develop peaceful methods of dealing with differences worthy
of our calling as Christians so that our prayers won’t be
merely plaintive wails and the abundant, secure, life promised
for all becomes more than an ideal.
Gloria and Roger Marriott
The 2004 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
133 |