To hell with good intentions: a theological point

To help out some friends I'm responding to journal entries written by their students on different topics concerning youth engagement in a globalized world. My first response was related to a talk given by Ivan Illich to an American volunteer organization. You can download the text of that talk below. I wanted to share my response with you because it summarizes some important things I've been learning lately.

tohellwithgoodintentions.pdf

My Response:

I don't know if you've ever worked or lived in a less developed country, but as you might know, these are ideas that plague thoughtful expatriates who live and work among the international poor. They are ideas that Invisible Children has wrestled with since its inception, and that agencies as established as the UN have yet to answer satisfactorily. In that context, I'd like to share with you what I'm learning. I hope you'll find in it some little benefit.

First, Illich was addressing an audience of youth, which you reflect in your journal, but rest assured that his criticisms apply equally to expats of all ages. Often times adults are worse. They tend to have more plans and systems that they want to implement in poor communities, which means less listening to locals, and they tend to have more funding, which means locals are less likely to speak up in the first place. Youth or adults, outsiders can be damaging.

One lesson that I learned in Uganda that will guide me for many years is: A Ugandan will do more good for Uganda than I ever can. The reasons are obvious. She understands her community more deeply than I will because she was born into it, grew into its roles and conventions, knows its troubles and hopes from a thousand evening conversations. She absorbed it like language. I, on the other hand, struggle to peel back its layers; I search for its heart. Sometimes I'm more successful than others, but always I have to interrupt in order to understand. She just knows.

However, I am one who has benefited greatly from the type of volunteerism that Illich condemns. I first entered the developing world in Nepal, and have since volunteered in Ukraine, Romania, and India, and have worked in Uganda. My time in Nepal changed my life for the better, and I would even say that I did some good while I was there. In fact, I went back two years later to continue that work.

I have seen the dark side of volunteerism as well. When I first moved to Uganda I watched hundreds of westerners flow through the little town of Gulu. Many developed emotional relationships with locals, giving them things and promising more, only to fly away, never to be heard from again. The children of Gulu, and many adults, habitually ask white people for money and candy and food. When interacting with them I could tell that I was not considered human. In their eyes I was a pallid sack of cash. This is only one of the negative effects I saw. There were others.

So what then shall we do? I don't have an easy answer, but I know this: The best way for me to positively influence a place is to support its visionaries. In Nepal that visionary was Mahabir. We were invited by him, took our instructions from him, worked closely with him. He was from the area in which we worked, had refined his own vision for the place and had been working for decades to accomplish it. Our contribution was only a checkbox on his master plan. He could have done without us and he went on after us. He maximized our contribution and mitigated our damage.

In Uganda that visionary is Jolly. She is an Acholi woman and the leader of Invisible Children's work in Uganda. It's her vision and advice and instruction that we rely on. We've spent hours with her trying to minimize any negative influence we would have on the community. And it seems to be working. We are held up by community leaders as an example among international organizations in Uganda. And it's because of her.

It's not easy to find a visionary to support, and supporting her doesn't always mean volunteering in country. But then, volunteering shouldn't be our goal - only doing good. So if it turns out that we can do more good by staying home, then we should. But if she invites us and gives us work to do, then perhaps it is good to go.

Also consider this: if it's true that a Ugandan will do more good for Uganda than I will, then doesn't it hold that it will take Americans to help America? I think there is great value in finding where we can contribute in our own country. Real life-and-death needs exist here as everywhere else. In our place of leadership in the world it's important to maintain a balance of focus.

Visionaries

I've had a number of conversations in the last few days about how Americans should best work in Uganda - whether independently or through an organization or through churches; whether as leaders or supporting leaders; whether through grassroots empowerment or policy consultation. All of these are options.

My view on these things is evolving. Right now it can be codified in a single sentence: Find the local visionaries and support them.

The most successful projects that I've seen westerners carry out in various developing countries are those that are done at the request and under the instruction of a local man or woman who has a personal and positive vision for his or her community. They know what is needed, they know how best to get things done, and they will continue the work far after you and I go home to the American suburbs.

So if you really want to change things in a far off country, first you need to find its visionaries.

OBEY

Jesus was pretty clear. He told his disciples that if they loved him, they would obey his commands. My challenge for myself recently, and for you, is a question:

Which one of Jesus commands have you made a point to obey?

Phone for the Homeless

My good friend Aaron sent me this story about Google giving free permanent phone numbers to homeless people in San Francisco. They operate like standard voicemail boxes, accessible from any phone, and will allow these people to include their callback numbers on job applications and the like. If it works in San Francisco Google plans to scale it to other major cities.

Great idea.

I was thinking about how to capitalize on this. Why not offer these newly-phone-numbered folks the chance to sign up for a call list. Or several lists. Then aggregate the most applicable job openings and send them out via voicemail to each person. It's practically no marginal cost once the infrastructure is developed. You can do this with health information, housing opportunities, etc.

One thing I learned while traversing skid row in Los Angeles is that, more than money, hope is often the greatest need among homeless people. What better way to start rebuilding hope than by presenting opportunities directly to people over and over again.

It's a new era in addressing homelessness, because never have homeless people been so easily addressable.

Any other ideas?

Sandor Teszler

If you haven't seen this, please do: http://www.ted.com/talks/view/id/208

Blessings and Woes 2

It was a turning point. I had just climbed to the plateaued peak of a mountain in central Ethiopia. Fears and insecurities had been pierced for the moment, and the cold air of elevation was fuel in my lungs, powering the countless microscopic pistons of my brain. My mind's eye focussed for a moment on the few verses I had read in the Bible the night before, from Luke, chapter six.

"Blessed are you who are poor," Jesus had said, "for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Blessed are you when men hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their fathers treated the prophets."

These were blessed, I had always heard, because the poor and the hungry and the weeping will listen to Jesus, become his disciples, and go to heaven.

Jesus goes on, but the message seems to change. "But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort. Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry. Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when all men speak well of you, for that is how their fathers treated the false prophets." These poor souls, I had been taught, were being read their sentence. Jesus was saying that those who are rich, who are eating and laughing, they won't heed his message, won't become his disciples. They will go to hell.

A simple juxtaposition it seemed: the saved and the damned, Jesus' disciples vs. Jesus' ignorers. But as I had read those verses the night before I had seen something rather curious. Just before Jesus launches into the blessings and the woes, Luke reports that he is speaking to his disciples. The whole unbroken monologue was spoken to the people who were already following Jesus, who were heeding his message. Blessed are some, woe to others. They are all his disciples.

The night before I had put down my Bible in puzzlement, and as I descended this Ethiopian mountaintop a new synthetic understanding of this passage crystalized in my mind. It wasn't about heaven and hell. Jesus is telling his disciples what it feels like to continue on the path that they have begun.

The bulk of Jesus' teachings are about how people ought to live, about loving their neighbors and praying for their enemies and walking an extra mile. And a big part of this was how to live together in community, even saying that his disciples' love for each other was the greatest proof to the world that they were his disciples.

I stopped in my tracks on the mountain. I'm pretty sure I spoke aloud, my voice falling over a nearby cliff. "It's not about salvation and damnation, it's about now. It's about now. It's about a great leveling."

Track with me for a minute. Jesus' was teaching a radical new way of life in which the first were last and the last first. When he says that the poor are blessed for theirs is the kingdom of God, he's saying that their needs will be taken care of by this amazing new community. And to the rich entering the community, woe to them, it's going to hurt. Their money is needed to care for the poor, they are going to have to do without the luxuries and comforts to which they've accustomed themselves. They've "received their comfort in full."

And blessed are those who are chronically hungry because their new community will feed them, but it means that those who are used to having all they need might have to go without every once in a while, so woe to them.

And for you who are mourning, you are blessed because your new community is going to take on that suffering with you. They are going to bring you back to a place where you can laugh again. But for those who laugh through life, it's going to be tough because you are going to have to embrace the mourning of your new brothers and sisters.

Can you see it? It's a way of life. It's the great leveling of community, where the troubles and successes of each are the troubles and successes of all. The good news is that this is how it was always meant to be. But need and greed, capitalism and communism, life and death taught us a new and primal way of living, one in which our own survival and success is our only concern, in which sweatshops and oil wars and predatory lending are not only acceptable, but expedient.

Jesus showed us, and continues to show us through the four written accounts of his life, how to live like we are sons and daughters of God. It is deep community, a great leveling, an association so thorough it's as if we are a single organism. For some it will be a relief to enter it, for others it will be a test of their commitment. For everyone who chooses it, it will be an abundant life.

As I wound my way down the mountain I descended into a world whose flaws were more plain, and whose hope was as great as the mountain.

Blessings and Woes

Those who have been around me lately have probably heard a bit about Luke 6, when Jesus says that some are blessed, but says 'woe to' others.

"Blessed are you who mourn now, for you will laugh... Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn," said Jesus.

Then, from an address given by Gareth Higgins at the memorial service for the late writer John O'Donohue, quoting O'Donohue:

"If you need to be in your own space to be depressed, I totally understand, but if all you’re going to do is be depressed, then come and spend the day with me, and we can be depressed together. Because I love you today, and I will love you forever."

It's about now my friends. The kingdom of God is full of blessings and woes. Sometimes it will hurt to be a part of it, like taking up a cross; sometimes it will be a joy, like when your cares are cured. Most of all, it will be abundant. And it starts now.

Thanks Mike.

We are the ones

A Message from the Elders of the Hopi Nation, Oraibi Arizona.

You have been telling the people that this is the Eleventh Hour.
Now you must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour.
And there are things to be considered:
Where are you living?
What are you doing?
What are your relationships?
Are you in right relation?
Where is your water?
Know your garden.
It is time to speak your Truth. Create your community. Be good to each other.
And do not look outside yourself for the leader.
This could be a good time!
There is a river flowing now very fast.
It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid.
They will try to hold on to the shore.
The will feel they are being torn apart and they will suffer greatly.
Know the river has its destination.
The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open and our heads above the water.
See who is in there with you and celebrate.
At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally.
Least of all, ourselves.
For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt.
The time of the lone wolf is over.
Gather yourselves!
Banish the word struggle from your attitude and your vocabulary.
All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
We are the ones we've been waiting for.