These are Congolese children in an IDP camp. Found these photos by Andrew McConnel. I read the forward to "We Drink from Our Own Wells," by Gustovo Gutierrez today. The forward, by Henri Nowen, talked about Jesus. And the freedom that is in knowing and walking with Jesus. It was about how when the poor know Jesus, they have already won. Which is why they know how to dance. And laugh. And be thankful. And have community. You've probably seen them do it... I have... in the dump of Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic. Their joy was bewildering. I have felt so hopeless lately, about suffering, about oppression, about the Dark hold on the earth. It can be simple to forget, here in our bubble, our sliver of insane prosperity, where we think that oppression and death and disease are disturbing and thrilling and merit our attention as much as gardening does. Or perhaps less. We are so confused about what "life on earth" really means. For all of history, what it has really meant. For generation after generation, for billions of people, it means rape, starvation, despair, sickness, disease, slavery, death. Lots of death. The woman in the picture above suffered rape by two CNDP soldiers in the Congo. As is common, her husband has taken her four children and left her.This photo is recent. I have been overwhelmed this week with the pervasiveness of Oppression, even here in our fuzzy slippered nation. There are 20 sex offenders within 2 miles of my home. A knoxville ministry serves fourteen hundred meals every day. My home is broken. My city is broken. My nation is broken. My car, my budget, the walls and ceilings of my new house, all broken. Oh, and I am broken too. So when I read this: Jesus the Lord loves the oppressor as well as the oppressed and entered into history to set all men and women free. Knowing Jesus in the way the disciples knew him does not allow for a cool and calculated strategy aimed at the overthrow of the oppressor and acquisition of power by the poor. The good news that Jesus annouces is the news that love is stronger than death and that the evils of hatred, destruction, exploitation, and oppresssion can only be overcome by the power of love that comes from God.
...I have to stop. This is revolutionary. At my lunch break, in the sun, with my food sitting beside me, cigarette in hand, and I have to close my eyes. The light and the wind bear down on me, and I pray so earnestly I can know Him. That I can hear Him. That he will have me dancing and singing and shouting the Victory in Jesus over every Dark force and horrific form of bondage that that Capitol Son of a Bitch has to offer the Earth today. That I will love... that love will be stronger than death in my life, could it be? Oh, I am so feeble, so weak, even afraid to hope that this can be true. God! Make me brave like the singing dancing lovers of you that live on that mountain of trash!
...I have to stop. This is revolutionary. At my lunch break, in the sun, with my food sitting beside me, cigarette in hand, and I have to close my eyes. The light and the wind bear down on me, and I pray so earnestly I can know Him. That I can hear Him. That he will have me dancing and singing and shouting the Victory in Jesus over every Dark force and horrific form of bondage that that Capitol Son of a Bitch has to offer the Earth today. That I will love... that love will be stronger than death in my life, could it be? Oh, I am so feeble, so weak, even afraid to hope that this can be true. God! Make me brave like the singing dancing lovers of you that live on that mountain of trash!
