Sunday, April 27, 2008
creative pieces
This is a link to a blog with some creative pieces that my friends and I put together: http://wordsonaline.wordpress.com/
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Church amidst Earthly Authorities
I just finished an essay called "A Vision of Reality: The Redemptive Task of the Church amidst Earthly Authorities." I set out to research and write about how a Christian should view the War in Iraq, and after I began my research I realized 1) There is so much theological grounding on the role of government that I need before I can have something helpful to say about the war, and 2) The political complexities in Iraq are way out of my league. So I decided to do some further research on the role of the government and its use of force in the Bible and write a paper about that. I think this was an important thing to realize - if Christians do not have their theological convictions in place before talking about politics, they can end up making either careless theological misjudgments or ignorant political statements. I've been quite guilty of both.
After looking at the role of government in the Biblical story, and reading books and articles by some of the major just war theorists and pacifists, it seems to me that Christian engagement in warfare detracts from the redemptive task of the Church, which is to witness in word and deed to the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Governments are instituted by God as ministers and servants to preserve peace and administer wrath to everyone. As such, the purpose of government is to grant common grace to everyone in the same way that God allows all people to taste chocolate chip cookies and bask in the sun. The most fundamental response for the Christian is to submit to these authorities. Most just war theorists say in one way or another that since governments are ordained by God, Christians are permitted - and in some cases are morally obligated - to take up arms. But the Bible in no way indicates this next step. And in fact, when a Christian uses force - even in war - he or she fails to demonstrate the submissive nature of Christ. Force and submission cannot happen at the same time. The Church's number one purpose is to witness to the redemption that happened when Christ chose not to raise the sword and submitted to the cross. And this has a power far beyond armies, which the world doesn't understand. If we fail to do bear this witness in both word and deed, the hope of eternal peace will remain an illusion to the world.
This is nothing new - it is essentially what people like Yoder and Hauerwas say. But distinguishing between the common grace function of government and special redemptive task for the Church is a helpful way for me to understand how they fit together.
After looking at the role of government in the Biblical story, and reading books and articles by some of the major just war theorists and pacifists, it seems to me that Christian engagement in warfare detracts from the redemptive task of the Church, which is to witness in word and deed to the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Governments are instituted by God as ministers and servants to preserve peace and administer wrath to everyone. As such, the purpose of government is to grant common grace to everyone in the same way that God allows all people to taste chocolate chip cookies and bask in the sun. The most fundamental response for the Christian is to submit to these authorities. Most just war theorists say in one way or another that since governments are ordained by God, Christians are permitted - and in some cases are morally obligated - to take up arms. But the Bible in no way indicates this next step. And in fact, when a Christian uses force - even in war - he or she fails to demonstrate the submissive nature of Christ. Force and submission cannot happen at the same time. The Church's number one purpose is to witness to the redemption that happened when Christ chose not to raise the sword and submitted to the cross. And this has a power far beyond armies, which the world doesn't understand. If we fail to do bear this witness in both word and deed, the hope of eternal peace will remain an illusion to the world.
This is nothing new - it is essentially what people like Yoder and Hauerwas say. But distinguishing between the common grace function of government and special redemptive task for the Church is a helpful way for me to understand how they fit together.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Hauerwas, Narrative, and Adventure
In one of my classes I've been writing a paper that has given me the opportunity to read a lot of Stanley Hauerwas, and I'm realizing that a lot of his insight has indirectly helped in many ways. I've read articles by Hauerwas before, but as I'm reading him more in depth now, I'm starting to gain the ability to better interpret a lot of what I've been learning over the past 1-2 years.
The main concept that I've been contemplating for the past few weeks is narrative theology, an idea to which Hauerwas has been one of the primary contributors. At first sight the idea of story in theology may seem trendy, but I'm realizing its foundation is stronger and more historical than modern ways of looking at scriptures like systematic theology (Hauerwas would say that systematic theology has its benefits, but I'll get to that in a little bit). I'll try to summarize Hauerwas' contentions as simply as possible, but since I've only scratched the surface, please forgive me if I am either confusing or do Hauerwas an injustice.
The first acknowledgment is that we live in a fragmented world where we are fed so many ideas in bits and pieces - some seem to have truth to them, and some do not. What modernity has done, according to Hauerwas, is condemn us to freedom. In a talk given by him he says that what modernity has done is tell us "You have no story, except the story which you chose when you had no story." In other words, modernity said that since freedom and authenticity is of primary importance, we must go alone on this personal search for truth. Postmodernity, a reaction to modernity, has said that none of us can be truly authentic. We are created by our surroundings, we all have an agenda, and there is no way to find the truth because it's all relative to our own experience. We must be wary of anything that sets itself up as an absolute truth. So now we live in a world where people are either trying to as objective and authentic as possible, and at the same time can't be sure of anything because they know their own human limitations.
When I became a Christian, I learned about Jesus from a very modern perspective, and that framework worked for me - and by "worked," I mean that I truly believed in Jesus the way it was explained. I didn't realize it had modern cultural attachments to it, but it was OK because nothing questioned it. But when I spent a semester in Cape Town as a junior in college, my modern framework was challenged both by ideas and experience. I learned about postmodernity in my classes and by talking to my friends, and I was in a place that was less Western than America, thus making modernity less of the norm. I was challenged by this question: Do I believe in Christianity simply because that is the background from which I come? Is my faith cultural? Christianity has only been in Cape Town for 400 years - if life is really about following Jesus, how come this area of the world has never heard about Jesus until 400 years ago?
These questions were very challenging, and they've been (at least partially) resolved in various ways, but what Hauerwas has done has really grounded me back in Jesus and the Church. This is how: As I said before, we've been condemned to freedom, but the "story" we choose in that freedom, according to postmodernity, is just relative to our experience. In this fragmented situation, Hauerwas says that we must see Christianity as the story of God's people, which trancends cultural and philosophical trends like modernity, postmodernity, and everything that came before and will come after. We see the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus as true, and then become a part of the Church, which is the present manifestation of God's story. When we believe in Jesus, we become part of a community with a history, a significant present, and a future hope. It is this community, not our own autonomous search, that teaches us truth and trains us to be the people we want to be. This rejects modern notions of freedom, and it also provides much more hope than the nihilism of postmodernity.
Postmodern thinkers may object and say "Yes, but you're submitting to a totalizing metanarrative that has caused oppression and will continue to oppress." I (based on much of Hauerwas has said) have two responses: 1) The only other alternative is to try to find truth on your own by choosing a little bit from one place and a little bit from another, meanwhile questioning your own motives and never really being sure of anything for your whole life. And 2) The Christian metanarrative (which John Cunningham, my professor last semester, said is "normative, but non-totalizing") is based on the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The life of Jesus was entirely guided by servanthood, humility, and love. His death was the ultimate expression of these things, and his resurrection was the assurance that these things are true. Jesus was a much better man than I am, and he is a much better man than I'll ever be. I would rather be a part of a community where I'm going to be trained to be like Jesus than try to discover truth in bits and pieces. Furthermore, Jesus, being God in the flesh, is the one who has shown me that God is real. I am part of the story of God's people, and as part of that community I have a history, a present significance, and a future hope grounded in Jesus.
One of the most exciting things about being a Christian is the adventure. I am learning to discover my place in the story, and it is exciting to discover and learn every day how to be like Jesus, and where God is leading the world around me. And I celebrate that Jesus has given me people with whom I can share this journey who love me, and whom I love.
Here's a verse where Paul tells of the adventure:
"I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." Philippians 3:10-14
The main concept that I've been contemplating for the past few weeks is narrative theology, an idea to which Hauerwas has been one of the primary contributors. At first sight the idea of story in theology may seem trendy, but I'm realizing its foundation is stronger and more historical than modern ways of looking at scriptures like systematic theology (Hauerwas would say that systematic theology has its benefits, but I'll get to that in a little bit). I'll try to summarize Hauerwas' contentions as simply as possible, but since I've only scratched the surface, please forgive me if I am either confusing or do Hauerwas an injustice.
The first acknowledgment is that we live in a fragmented world where we are fed so many ideas in bits and pieces - some seem to have truth to them, and some do not. What modernity has done, according to Hauerwas, is condemn us to freedom. In a talk given by him he says that what modernity has done is tell us "You have no story, except the story which you chose when you had no story." In other words, modernity said that since freedom and authenticity is of primary importance, we must go alone on this personal search for truth. Postmodernity, a reaction to modernity, has said that none of us can be truly authentic. We are created by our surroundings, we all have an agenda, and there is no way to find the truth because it's all relative to our own experience. We must be wary of anything that sets itself up as an absolute truth. So now we live in a world where people are either trying to as objective and authentic as possible, and at the same time can't be sure of anything because they know their own human limitations.
When I became a Christian, I learned about Jesus from a very modern perspective, and that framework worked for me - and by "worked," I mean that I truly believed in Jesus the way it was explained. I didn't realize it had modern cultural attachments to it, but it was OK because nothing questioned it. But when I spent a semester in Cape Town as a junior in college, my modern framework was challenged both by ideas and experience. I learned about postmodernity in my classes and by talking to my friends, and I was in a place that was less Western than America, thus making modernity less of the norm. I was challenged by this question: Do I believe in Christianity simply because that is the background from which I come? Is my faith cultural? Christianity has only been in Cape Town for 400 years - if life is really about following Jesus, how come this area of the world has never heard about Jesus until 400 years ago?
These questions were very challenging, and they've been (at least partially) resolved in various ways, but what Hauerwas has done has really grounded me back in Jesus and the Church. This is how: As I said before, we've been condemned to freedom, but the "story" we choose in that freedom, according to postmodernity, is just relative to our experience. In this fragmented situation, Hauerwas says that we must see Christianity as the story of God's people, which trancends cultural and philosophical trends like modernity, postmodernity, and everything that came before and will come after. We see the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus as true, and then become a part of the Church, which is the present manifestation of God's story. When we believe in Jesus, we become part of a community with a history, a significant present, and a future hope. It is this community, not our own autonomous search, that teaches us truth and trains us to be the people we want to be. This rejects modern notions of freedom, and it also provides much more hope than the nihilism of postmodernity.
Postmodern thinkers may object and say "Yes, but you're submitting to a totalizing metanarrative that has caused oppression and will continue to oppress." I (based on much of Hauerwas has said) have two responses: 1) The only other alternative is to try to find truth on your own by choosing a little bit from one place and a little bit from another, meanwhile questioning your own motives and never really being sure of anything for your whole life. And 2) The Christian metanarrative (which John Cunningham, my professor last semester, said is "normative, but non-totalizing") is based on the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The life of Jesus was entirely guided by servanthood, humility, and love. His death was the ultimate expression of these things, and his resurrection was the assurance that these things are true. Jesus was a much better man than I am, and he is a much better man than I'll ever be. I would rather be a part of a community where I'm going to be trained to be like Jesus than try to discover truth in bits and pieces. Furthermore, Jesus, being God in the flesh, is the one who has shown me that God is real. I am part of the story of God's people, and as part of that community I have a history, a present significance, and a future hope grounded in Jesus.
One of the most exciting things about being a Christian is the adventure. I am learning to discover my place in the story, and it is exciting to discover and learn every day how to be like Jesus, and where God is leading the world around me. And I celebrate that Jesus has given me people with whom I can share this journey who love me, and whom I love.
Here's a verse where Paul tells of the adventure:
"I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." Philippians 3:10-14
Monday, March 24, 2008
Easter Reflection
This Easter I asked myself the question "How do we, in a culture that is self-exulting, understand the resurrection?" Most of the time I feel like we need to think more about our vocation as the suffering servant more than as exalted kings. But we are called to live in, and be witnesses to, the resurrection. How do we do so without seeking an inheritance of our own?
This year the idea of the resurrection arrested me. I've been so conscious of our need to bear the burdens of others that the resurrection took me by surprise. The absurdity of that was quite convicting. So here are some thoughts about the resurrection that seek to avoid a pursuit of self-advancement, but also recognize the paramount significance of the resurrection. First of all, we must celebrate the things of God rather than the things of the world. It is easy to find joy in personal success, ambition, recognition, or possessions. But our joy is to be found in Christ and the Kingdom He came to establish. We celebrate the good news that we have life in Jesus, and we celebrate and prioritize the life of others before ourselves. We find joy in seeing the hungry fed, the outcast included, and the sick healed. And these things indeed bring more joy than the narrow tunnel of self-interest.
Another important consideration is that in the life of Christ humility came before exaltation. Suffering came before glory. Jesus came to serve, not to be served, and that vocation continued all the way to the point of his death. He had many opportunities to exalt himself, and the disciples were anxious for him to take the throne by force, but Jesus resisted because he came to the earth to bear the sin of the world on the cross. This was entirely intentional. And because Jesus submitted to the cross God the Father raised Him from the dead. Jesus did not raise himself - he humbled Himself so that God would vindicate Him. This means that as we follow Christ's path, we are to humble ourselves in the world - to become the least, the last, the servants - so that God will vindicate us. But we humble ourselves with the joy set before us that Christ resurrected and sits at the right hand of God, in victory over death. And we do this knowing that our humility and service to the world is what testifies to the life Jesus brings, and it is our humble service that feeds the hungry, includes the outcast, heals the sick, and gives hope to a broken world.
This year the idea of the resurrection arrested me. I've been so conscious of our need to bear the burdens of others that the resurrection took me by surprise. The absurdity of that was quite convicting. So here are some thoughts about the resurrection that seek to avoid a pursuit of self-advancement, but also recognize the paramount significance of the resurrection. First of all, we must celebrate the things of God rather than the things of the world. It is easy to find joy in personal success, ambition, recognition, or possessions. But our joy is to be found in Christ and the Kingdom He came to establish. We celebrate the good news that we have life in Jesus, and we celebrate and prioritize the life of others before ourselves. We find joy in seeing the hungry fed, the outcast included, and the sick healed. And these things indeed bring more joy than the narrow tunnel of self-interest.
Another important consideration is that in the life of Christ humility came before exaltation. Suffering came before glory. Jesus came to serve, not to be served, and that vocation continued all the way to the point of his death. He had many opportunities to exalt himself, and the disciples were anxious for him to take the throne by force, but Jesus resisted because he came to the earth to bear the sin of the world on the cross. This was entirely intentional. And because Jesus submitted to the cross God the Father raised Him from the dead. Jesus did not raise himself - he humbled Himself so that God would vindicate Him. This means that as we follow Christ's path, we are to humble ourselves in the world - to become the least, the last, the servants - so that God will vindicate us. But we humble ourselves with the joy set before us that Christ resurrected and sits at the right hand of God, in victory over death. And we do this knowing that our humility and service to the world is what testifies to the life Jesus brings, and it is our humble service that feeds the hungry, includes the outcast, heals the sick, and gives hope to a broken world.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
A New Leaf
"Telling stories" is such a buzzy thing these days, and I affirm it. I've been thinking lately about how neat it is to hear obscure stories of people who recorded their experiences throughout history, and I want I want to tell my story more, to give an account of what's happening in the world around me and how I engage with it. It's an act of sharing. I have mistakenly refrained from posts because I feel like I have to come up with something interesting or because I haven't made the time. But I'm going to start posting more because I think I'm supposed to share.
On a different note, this morning I was thinking that human beings, in that they are made in the image of God, are the clearest picture we have of God. The term "image" in Genesis is meant to invoke the idea of "representation." The other cultures of the Ancient Near East had man-made idols which were their "images" of God, but in the Biblical narrative the "image" is a human being. Thus, human beings are the representatives of God. We have corrupted that image with sin, but Jesus, the new Adam, fully employed what human beings were created to be - Jesus is the ultimate image of God.
In short, when we think of God, we should not think of abstract ideas, but rather we should look our fellow human being in the eyes and see God in them. And since Jesus was not tainted as all other human beings are, we can read about his life and see the "exact representation of His nature" (Heb. 1:3). In Jesus we see God, and everything we were meant to be.
On a different note, this morning I was thinking that human beings, in that they are made in the image of God, are the clearest picture we have of God. The term "image" in Genesis is meant to invoke the idea of "representation." The other cultures of the Ancient Near East had man-made idols which were their "images" of God, but in the Biblical narrative the "image" is a human being. Thus, human beings are the representatives of God. We have corrupted that image with sin, but Jesus, the new Adam, fully employed what human beings were created to be - Jesus is the ultimate image of God.
In short, when we think of God, we should not think of abstract ideas, but rather we should look our fellow human being in the eyes and see God in them. And since Jesus was not tainted as all other human beings are, we can read about his life and see the "exact representation of His nature" (Heb. 1:3). In Jesus we see God, and everything we were meant to be.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
A Round of Applause for Humility
When we think about arrogant and boastful people who want to make a name for themselves we first think of those who seek great power and wealth. We think of political leaders and business executives with a competitive drive for self-propagation who will take down anything in their way to make money or get into office. But there is another form of name-making, one which is my personal struggle, and which works much more subtly. It's seeking a name for doing good. It's seeking fame for humility, as ironic as that might sound. When in circles that exalt humility and service, it's easy to lose sight of the purpose and get distracted by people's praises, and to begin to serve people for the praises, whether it be from the person being served or the people that watch. Since this is something I struggle with, here are some things I think about to cope with it:
Beauty over Receiving Praise - these are in tough competition with each other because receiving praise feels great. And I don't think there is anything wrong with saying thank you to compliments or appreciating another person for the good they do. But in terms of what the ultimate goal is, beauty trumps praise. When I am looking around and wondering how people perceive me, I am invariably unfulfilled, or at least my fulfillment is short-lived. But when I'm more intent, excited and appreciative of the beauty of seeing someone's life changed - seeing a struggling student receive an A on a test, seeing a hungry person fed, seeing a depressed person content - the joy is truly unspeakable. When the joy of seeing the kingdom come fills our minds, we will be more excited about serving each other, and our service will be more authentic.
We have been loved first - When I think of the love of Christ for me and all of humanity, the love that led him to the cross, any love I think I have for people pales in comparison. I become humbled because my love is conditional - I like to think I love people, but I'm full of judgment and envy. That is why the commandment is not only to love our neighbor as ourselves, but also to love God- because we need Jesus to change our hearts if we are to love people perfectly.
Celebrating the victory of others as they are my own - this subverts any competition or envy of success. When we see ourselves in a community of people striving for a mutual goal and hope of seeing the world filled with peace and love and wholeness, we work together and have excitement about good things happening, whether they come from us or someone else.
Rest: When I rest and reflect, I rebel against my mindset that I can be a hero and change the world myself. It is an acknowledgment that the world continues when I'm not there. Intentional rest is far from laziness. It is an active rebellion against pride.
And a verse: "Beware of practicing your righteousness before men to be noticed by them; otherwise you have no reward with your Father who is in heaven. So when you give to the poor, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and the streets, so that they may be honored by men. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full. But when you give to the poor, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving will be in secret; and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you." -Matthew 6:1-4 (and it goes on to say the same things about the hiddenness of prayer and fasting)
So let us not seek to make a name for ourselves from wealth, power, service, sacrifice, humility, spirituality, or any other way. Let us give God the praise, because God is the one from whom love and power, and power for love, comes anyway. And let us get excited about the work God is doing, and take joy in seeing the world changed from our hands and the hands of others.
Beauty over Receiving Praise - these are in tough competition with each other because receiving praise feels great. And I don't think there is anything wrong with saying thank you to compliments or appreciating another person for the good they do. But in terms of what the ultimate goal is, beauty trumps praise. When I am looking around and wondering how people perceive me, I am invariably unfulfilled, or at least my fulfillment is short-lived. But when I'm more intent, excited and appreciative of the beauty of seeing someone's life changed - seeing a struggling student receive an A on a test, seeing a hungry person fed, seeing a depressed person content - the joy is truly unspeakable. When the joy of seeing the kingdom come fills our minds, we will be more excited about serving each other, and our service will be more authentic.
We have been loved first - When I think of the love of Christ for me and all of humanity, the love that led him to the cross, any love I think I have for people pales in comparison. I become humbled because my love is conditional - I like to think I love people, but I'm full of judgment and envy. That is why the commandment is not only to love our neighbor as ourselves, but also to love God- because we need Jesus to change our hearts if we are to love people perfectly.
Celebrating the victory of others as they are my own - this subverts any competition or envy of success. When we see ourselves in a community of people striving for a mutual goal and hope of seeing the world filled with peace and love and wholeness, we work together and have excitement about good things happening, whether they come from us or someone else.
Rest: When I rest and reflect, I rebel against my mindset that I can be a hero and change the world myself. It is an acknowledgment that the world continues when I'm not there. Intentional rest is far from laziness. It is an active rebellion against pride.
And a verse: "Beware of practicing your righteousness before men to be noticed by them; otherwise you have no reward with your Father who is in heaven. So when you give to the poor, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and the streets, so that they may be honored by men. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full. But when you give to the poor, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving will be in secret; and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you." -Matthew 6:1-4 (and it goes on to say the same things about the hiddenness of prayer and fasting)
So let us not seek to make a name for ourselves from wealth, power, service, sacrifice, humility, spirituality, or any other way. Let us give God the praise, because God is the one from whom love and power, and power for love, comes anyway. And let us get excited about the work God is doing, and take joy in seeing the world changed from our hands and the hands of others.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
a week in New Orleans
I returned from New Orleans a few days ago after a week-long trip with the fellows and RUF, one of the Christian fellowship groups at UVa. It was my first time going, so I was excited to finally have the opportunity to see the city.
The day after we arrived we went to the service at Redeemer Presbyterian Church, followed by a potluck lunch to which the whole church was invited. This was typical for them - meals and drinks and good company not only after church but throughout the week. We went to another potluck dinner the night before we left. But that Sunday after we ate, a few of us sat with the pastor Ray Cannata, who told story after story of the past three years in New Orleans.
As Ray was talking, one thing that he said left a significant impression on me. He said that New Orleans is a special place because it paints a bleak picture of the Fall, of brokenness, but at the same time offers a beautiful picture of hope and redemption. The people of New Orleans are continually reminded of the brokenness because most people know someone who died. In the lower 9th Ward the houses are barely touched. The FEMA trailers are going to be taken away soon, leaving people without homes. But even amidst the devastation, there is a sense of community and hope. The people are aware of each other, and of their need for each other, and they take the time to enjoy one another's company. And the rebuilding efforts have fostered a sense of community and working together. The people know that New Orleans will probably not be rebuilt for another 20 years, but they still hope and work for it. (This is all what Ray was saying).
It was encouraging to hear that churches represent 80-90% of the rebuilding efforts. This is a comforting reminder when I start to wonder if the Church cares about restoration and redemption and rebuilding communities. This proves that it does. I of course was self-conscious of going down for a week without really knowing about the situation, taking picture after picture on a voyeuristic drive-by relief vacation. But the people were so welcoming! They wouldn't stop thanking us for coming. It was amazing because they get a rebuilding group from out of town just about every week.
A few more details: We stayed at Camp Hope, which is a dormitory-style camp that houses about 800 people, packed into rooms on cots, with cold showers. We began building a house with habitat for humanity. Our project leader was a guy named Mike who used to be a film student at USC where one of my close friends from Cape Town, Walter Glass, was a student. And He knew him!! Small world. We got to go down to the French Quarter, and we went to Bourbon St. and Frenchman St. to see some great music! I love the music, art, and food in NOLA. It's all interesting - every store and restaurant.
When we were returning we were thinking about how we can make the trip valuable beyond one mere week of visiting. We were thinking about how we might take NOLA home with us. One thing that Ray mentioned was that brokenness and hope is everywhere - it was in New Orleans before Katrina - but what Katrina did was expose it. Brokenness and hope is everywhere, it's just harder to see in other places like Charlottesville. So one thing that I hope to take away is the truth that New Orleans revealed, that this world is a fallen place. But amidst that fallenness, when we work together there is hope - not sentimentality, but a hope where people are appreciating and serving each other and things are actually changing.
If there's any way to put pictures up on this, I'll try to do that.
The day after we arrived we went to the service at Redeemer Presbyterian Church, followed by a potluck lunch to which the whole church was invited. This was typical for them - meals and drinks and good company not only after church but throughout the week. We went to another potluck dinner the night before we left. But that Sunday after we ate, a few of us sat with the pastor Ray Cannata, who told story after story of the past three years in New Orleans.
As Ray was talking, one thing that he said left a significant impression on me. He said that New Orleans is a special place because it paints a bleak picture of the Fall, of brokenness, but at the same time offers a beautiful picture of hope and redemption. The people of New Orleans are continually reminded of the brokenness because most people know someone who died. In the lower 9th Ward the houses are barely touched. The FEMA trailers are going to be taken away soon, leaving people without homes. But even amidst the devastation, there is a sense of community and hope. The people are aware of each other, and of their need for each other, and they take the time to enjoy one another's company. And the rebuilding efforts have fostered a sense of community and working together. The people know that New Orleans will probably not be rebuilt for another 20 years, but they still hope and work for it. (This is all what Ray was saying).
It was encouraging to hear that churches represent 80-90% of the rebuilding efforts. This is a comforting reminder when I start to wonder if the Church cares about restoration and redemption and rebuilding communities. This proves that it does. I of course was self-conscious of going down for a week without really knowing about the situation, taking picture after picture on a voyeuristic drive-by relief vacation. But the people were so welcoming! They wouldn't stop thanking us for coming. It was amazing because they get a rebuilding group from out of town just about every week.
A few more details: We stayed at Camp Hope, which is a dormitory-style camp that houses about 800 people, packed into rooms on cots, with cold showers. We began building a house with habitat for humanity. Our project leader was a guy named Mike who used to be a film student at USC where one of my close friends from Cape Town, Walter Glass, was a student. And He knew him!! Small world. We got to go down to the French Quarter, and we went to Bourbon St. and Frenchman St. to see some great music! I love the music, art, and food in NOLA. It's all interesting - every store and restaurant.
When we were returning we were thinking about how we can make the trip valuable beyond one mere week of visiting. We were thinking about how we might take NOLA home with us. One thing that Ray mentioned was that brokenness and hope is everywhere - it was in New Orleans before Katrina - but what Katrina did was expose it. Brokenness and hope is everywhere, it's just harder to see in other places like Charlottesville. So one thing that I hope to take away is the truth that New Orleans revealed, that this world is a fallen place. But amidst that fallenness, when we work together there is hope - not sentimentality, but a hope where people are appreciating and serving each other and things are actually changing.
If there's any way to put pictures up on this, I'll try to do that.
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