February 14, 2006
…speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every
way into him who is the head, into Christ.
Ephesians 4:15
It was a two-day journey—a car ride and four flights—and
I am here in Niamey, Niger. It is six hours ahead of Bloomington,
Indiana, and sixty to seventy degrees warmer. Hot!
I am back in Niger for a week to assist Lutheran World Relief
and their partners as they review their famine relief efforts
and to prepare for another cycle of crop failures and suffering.
Unlike last year, the local partners are trying to focus their
famine relief efforts to support their long-term community development
projects. While the focus of world attention has moved on to other
disasters such as Katrina and Pakistan earthquake, the devastating
impact of crop failures continues.
Even in normal years, the price of millet rises throughout the
year, from the low of harvest time to the high of growing season.
When commercial interests buy up the crops during the harvest,
this forces poor farmers to pay a much higher price later. During
bad yield years, the price variation is especially pronounced.
The presence of funds from overseas raises the price ceiling and
the opportunity for quick profits. I am not here because I have
a solution, but to struggle together as we seek ways to break
out of this cycle, at least for some people.
Government denial of the crisis, shameful exploitation of the
food shortage for financial gains, and cultural acceptance of
discrimination against poor, women, and children all contribute
to the miserable existence for have-nots. As we shared in our
December letter, it all seems to be caused by the spiritual poverty
resulting in a chronic disease called “status quo.”
As a diabetic, I know how difficult it is to properly control
my blood glucose level, even when I am aware of the disease and
the consequences. It is easy to find excuses for not exercising
and to allow for occasional lapses in proper diet for short-term
pleasure and laziness. Sometimes I justify my lapses by insisting
that it is my life and I am the one who will pay for the consequences.
And sometimes I concede to an elevated glucose level as an “acceptable
compromise.” But my well-being affects more than just myself,
but my family, friends, employer, and the larger community who
will bear the burden of my illness.
At times, unhealthy life styles have good reasons. Since August
of 2005, I have been running from one disaster to another; famine
in Niger, Katrina on the Gulf Coast, the earthquake in Pakistan.
I was in a situation where regular exercise and careful diet were
luxuries beyond reach, and the demands of the work seemed so urgent.
But at the start of this year I received the warning sign—my
three-month glucose level average was clearly above normal, according
to the test called HbA1C. Whether I was preoccupied with other
urgent matters or simply lazy did not make any difference, neither
to the test result nor the consequences. It was a wake-up call,
and I became more diligent to living a proper lifestyle. If we
define “poor” as “inability to enjoy the richness
of life that God planned for us,” then the cause of my poverty
is not material or intellectual or even caused by the social system,
but a failure of the spirit and faith that guide my actions. Continuing
trips to disaster sites pose enough challenges to a proper lifestyle.
But at least now I am more careful and plan better, and I try
to remember my limitations, because justifications do not mitigate
the consequences.
What kind of test will reveal an objective measure of our spiritual
health? The problems I see in Pakistan and Niger I see all over,
including our own society. How do you find the debates raging
in our political arena, at work, and at home? Is it only me who
failed to find in the words and actions of our leaders the humility
and compassion with commitment to justice and God-given responsibilities?
Did Jesus always side with the powerful and rich? Did he always
take the path of least resistance?
I am especially troubled when I see the same type of behavior
in our own community of faith, where we are called to speak the
truth in the spirit of Christ. Sometimes, a misguided notion of
compassion allows us to let unhealthy situations continue at the
expense of Jesus, I dare say. Rather than speaking the truth in
love we become apologists for others in the name of culture and
compassion, often to avoid the pain and awkwardness of doing the
right thing. Oh how often have I heard “Let’s wait
until he retires,” as if it were ever an adequate response!
Most of the time the retirement simply provides an opportunity
to lay all the blame on the person who is no longer around. Wouldn’t
the compassionate thing be either to help him retire after putting
his affairs in order or to help him find another path?
What are the responsibilities for us missionaries who are called
to be in company with the people who are oppressed and to shed
light in darkness and pour salt on infections? How do I speak
the truth in love, without being cynical or sanctimoniously self
righteous? How do I know that my take on the situations is the
correct one? There certainly is no test as objective as the one
for glucose levels. Perhaps this is the way God makes me pray
more and search for his will in the Scriptures. I am blessed to
be here in Niger this week, assisting with technical issues for
our Muslim partners to be accountable, transparent, and to grow
in their ability to serve others. Being demanding is an expression
of respect, provided we are willing to help in their efforts.
I find this relationship much healthier than the ones we see in
the media these days.
To work in the mission field is always a learning opportunity.
I do not know why God allows disasters to happen, but we can and
should always learn appropriate lessons. During the past six months,
the clearest lesson for me has been to assess my spiritual health
and to speak the truth in love. May the peace of our Lord be with
you always.
Simon
Niamey, Niger
The 2006 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
261 |
