Tag: neighbors

  • Dinner in Kandern

    05.27.11 | Comment?

    by Kristi Dahlstrom

    It’s been a year of dinners.

    At Black Forest Academy, the Christian international school where I’ve been teaching since last August, we’re currently whirling our way to the end of the school year, but in general life has been slow since I moved to southern Germany. The village of Kandern rests in a green basin, settling down between the Rhineland and the Black Forest over the last millennium in endless contentment with pottery, apples and wine. Unsurprisingly, many letters from home have included a variation of the question “So, what do you there, in that little town, when you’re not teaching?”

    With hundreds of kilometers of trails weaving between castles and hills, Kandern is made for bright afternoons of hiking and mountain biking, delicious days that end with photogenic sunsets. What it’s not made for, however, is evenings on the town. Our restaurants fall into two categories:

    1.     Expensive, traditional German food, good for treating out of town guests.

    2.     Cheap kebabs, good for takeout on weary Fridays.

    Neither of these are conducive to nights out with friends, and the movie theater only plays movies once in a while and in German. The evenings of food and entertainment I’d grown so used to in Seattle are all but impossible here.

    So we have dinners. Some are planned parties and others impromptu gatherings borne of all living and working together in this small town. We navigate the grocery stores that didn’t prove as scary as I’d been warned, learning German ingredients. Our meals, uneven experiments of young people living abroad, lend themselves to stories, as we tell where we learned this or that, ponder how we’ll do it better in the future. We linger over tables and admire the personalities on display on walls and bookshelves, learning to know one another as we spend time in each other’s homes.

    I grew up hearing stories from East Germans, telling how friendships were galvanized in the late evenings, after the lights went off in the houses and neighbors gathered on each other’s porches. In the necessity of nothing else to do, they invented community.

    In the past, I’ve gone searching for simplicity, trimming corners of clothing and music purchases, miles driven or lights turned off. And while those changes are valuable, for me this has been a year of learning to be thankful for the simplicity that has come, like a free umbrella with a new bank account, with this privilege of living and teaching in Germany. I’m challenged see the quietness of my sleepy town as an opportunity for intimacy, rather than condemn it for refusing to entertain me. And as I follow the work of Spilling Hope, I’m grateful to remember that these dinners, safe and abundant, are sumptuous by world standards, a gift that we enjoy as we grow in life together.

  • Rolling in the Deep

    05.26.11 | Comment?

    by Juli Robinson

    Have you ever spent an afternoon digging out blackberry roots? Let me tell you, it’s hard work. Some of them run deep into the soil and after a few hours — well, let’s be honest, a few minutes — your back gets sore from heaving with all of your strength to get out just one little root. This is how I spent my afternoon before Film Night. Feeling exhausted and sore from the day, I thought it was all I could do to muster the energy to go to church. 

    But did I mention that in these few short hours I took some breaks, had some granola bars to sustain my energy, and that I had plenty of water to stay hydrated? Water that didn’t come from a muddy, bacteria-infested water source, that I had to walk a few miles to retrieve, but clean water that was just steps from my shovel? The time I spent “laboring” away is close to the amount of time it can take to make just one of many trips to get water in Uganda or Rwanda in a given day. Being humbled by this reminder, I suddenly wasn’t so sore after all.

    Did you know that 1 in 6 people the world over don’t have access to clean water? And, that children, often the ones tasked with getting water can spend up to 8 back-breaking hours a day carrying jerry cans that weigh 40 pounds or more? That they are late to school, stay up late into the night to finish their schoolwork, or miss out on an education altogether because they have to get water for their families? Water, a necessity of life that is crucial to our survival, an element that makes up our very being, and yet somewhere along the way it has become a privilege not a right.

    As Dr. Forrest Inslee, one of the panelists, so poignantly said, “The water we drink is the same water that is cycled through the world over, the same water that Rwanda and Uganda drink; and it’s a metaphor for our sense of equality and humanity.” Imagine that the next time you fill a glass of water from your tap. I know I will. And yet it’s not equal, is it?

    Learning about the world water crisis the last few years has opened my eyes to the complexities that underlie this basic human need and the call that we have as Christians to act.  Before Spilling Hope, I’m ashamed to admit I never gave a thought to the millions of people around the world that don’t have something that I have so often taken for granted. Sure, I know that extreme poverty and hunger exist, but I never really thought about water as part of this equation.

    The two films we watched were One Drop, a film that recounted what life is like in Uganda for those without water, focusing on a 15 year-old boy, John, who is responsible for supplying water for his family, and Christophe’s Dance, a glimpse into what church empowerment looks like, focusing on a pastor in Rwanda that has dedicated his life to building up his community and modeling what we are called to do – to be the hands and feet of Christ to our brothers and sisters. 

    As Craig Pixley, from World Relief said, we are the only social organization on the planet with the mandate of “love your neighbor as yourself.” That’s a huge responsibility and it’s not just about water. It’s about empowering communities and sharing tools to help them become self-sustaining. As Stan Patyrak from Living Water International added, “It’s important to always seek relationships; poverty at it’s core is broken relationships, it’s not just about the money.”

    Broken relationships. Isn’t that the core of Christianity? Christ continually chasing after us to be restored back to him and calling us to love others in the same way?

    So what have I learned? It is evident that poverty is complex and it’s roots run deep, much like the roots of the blackberry bushes I extracted earlier in the day. And, while there is much more to learn, my hope is that we as a church body can continue to learn, to act in love and to carry out the responsibility of ones who are privileged. As Jesus said in Luke 12:48, “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

  • Incredible!

    05.24.11 | Comment?

    by Phil Smith, World Relief

    I first visited Rwanda in 2003, representing my church on a vision trip. At that time, I was enjoying a successful business career. I expected to have a productive trip, assessing the work of World Relief and the prospects for partnership with our church, to a great extent like a “business assignment.”  

    What I didn’t expect is the impact the trip would have on me, and subsequently on my wife, Becca. Within 3 years, we found ourselves living in Rwanda. (Take care if you’re asked to “represent your church on a trip”!)

    Rwanda is an incredibly beautiful country — hills, mountains, green, lots of sunshine, temperatures in the mid-70s to mid-80s, low humidity. (Sounds like a tourism ad!) It is also incredibly poor, with nearly 2/3 of the population living under the poverty line, and 1/3 living in extreme poverty. And if you visit, you’ll find a country of great progress and incredible hope. 

    Back to my trip. So, what happened? Why are Becca and I here today? Incredible beauty? Nope. Incredible poverty? Certainly part of it. Incredible hope? Also part of it. The answer may surprise you: incredible church and incredible calling!  

    Indeed, poverty “came to life.” No longer were they distant news clips or statistics, but people with names and families, hopes and dreams, laughter and tears. And that has changed my life. 

    But I also experienced something quite extraordinary — I saw churches with the little resources they had, reaching into their communities to serve the most vulnerable. It was both humbling and exciting. Humbling as I pondered my own life and our western world churches. Exciting as I dreamed about the impact on a country when the body of Christ is fully engaged in their communities.

    I learned that a non-negotiable part of following Jesus is to serve the most vulnerable. Sitting on the sidelines is not an option. God calls His people, His church, whether in the U.S. or in Rwanda, to carry out that calling every day in their communities. And when His people actually take up the calling, our world can experience His incredible church. The lesson has changed my life.

    World Relief is devoting itself to a sustainable and obedient cause here in Rwanda: to see the local church empowered to serve the most vulnerable in their communities. We like to say it this way:

    God longs for the broadest, most diverse social network on the planet — The Church — to rise up like never before to engage in the great causes of our time:

    To feed the hungry
    To heal the sick
    To house the homeless
    To meet the needs of our neighbors

    (To see the full World Relief Manifesto, visit the World Relief website.)

    I’m delighted and thankful that Bethany Community Church is joining World Relief in this incredible calling.

     

    (Phil Smith is the country director of World Relief Rwanda.)

  • Living Simply, So That Others May Simply Live

    05.04.11 | Comment?

    by Peter Warski

    According to UNICEF, a staggering 52 percent of Ugandans live under the international poverty line of U.S. $1.25 per day. Think about that number for a moment. Then, think about the implication it has for your own life.

    In my case, $1.25 wouldn’t buy me enough gas to get to work in the morning (and I’m not including the return trip). It’s a tiny fraction of what I spend when I go out to lunch. If I go out for happy hour after work, a “good deal” for a beer would normally cost about three times that amount. And if I go to a movie at the theater — well, you get the point.

    “Live simply, so that others may simply live.” I borrowed this line from a bumper sticker I occasionally see. It makes a memorable but profound statement about the purpose of Spilling Hope. The goal of this campaign is not to induce guilt for living the way we do. Actually, it’s the opposite of that. The aim is to empower participants, who increase awareness of their lifestyle choices, exercise good stewardship over those choices, and, in so doing, display compassion, generosity, and HOPE to others.

    This isn’t merely a matter of spending less money, or consuming less — although that’s part of it. It’s about recognizing the impact of the decisions we make — as Christians, as consumers, as Americans, as human beings. What effects do those decisions have on others — whether they’re our neighbors here in Seattle, or a struggling family on the other side of the world?

    So, during the next 50 days (and beyond), I’ll be considering ways to live simply. Does it make sense to drive alone when I can carpool, walk, bike, or take public transportation? Is a trip to Starbucks necessary when I can drink coffee at home, at work, or not at all? Should I ever drink or purchase bottled water when our municipal water is perfectly safe to drink? And should I turn up the thermostat, or simply wear an additional layer?

    But I’ll also pay attention to the footprint I leave behind. Am I purchasing items that are produced, sold, and traded fairly and ethically? Are those items environmentally sustainable? Can they be reused, recycled, or composted? These questions are easy for me to ignore. But every product I buy has some impact on a person I’ll never meet.

    And, indeed, I’ve yet to meet a person who is forced to live on just $1.25 per day. But I’m encouraged by the knowledge that simple choices I make — and the generosity and compassion those choices allow — can help offer hope to someone facing such a struggle. As we celebrate this season of new life, I hope you are, too.

  • When They Find Hope, We Do Too

    04.26.11 | 1 Comment

    by Peter Warski

    Environmentalist John Muir once observed that “when we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.”

    This sunset picture, which I took a few summers ago, reminds me of what Muir wrote. It seems to reflect the truth that, indeed, nothing (and no one) can exist autonomously. All components of creation are inherently linked.

    The sky is the source of sunlight, clouds, and moisture. That precipitation falls upon the mountains, where forests, lakes, streams, and wildlife are fed. The water eventually makes its way into Puget Sound and the Pacific Ocean. The sea sustains marine life, and as water evaporates from its surface, it returns to the sky, where the process begins again.

    The city’s people are intimately connected to all of this. The rain and snow in the mountains feed our water supply. The sun provides us with daylight. Puget Sound is part of Seattle’s identity. We harvest seafood from its waters. We use it for transportation. Seattle could not be a port city without it. The cargo ship in the image is inevitably carrying goods from a distant land, perhaps Asia. Thousands of miles of vast ocean lie between here and the ship’s point of origin. But we’re deeply connected to that place and its people — even if we’ve never been there. The goods being delivered were produced by fellow human beings we’ll never meet.

    In a society where almost anything we need (or want) is at our fingertips, it’s easy to forget our connection to other places, where many may suffer because they lack things we take for granted. I certainly struggle with this. If I run out of groceries, I go to the store three blocks away. If I’m thirsty, I turn on the faucet. If I run out of gas, I buy more at the station down the street. If I’m tired in the morning, I buy a cup of coffee. Rarely do I consider where such basic items come from, the effects they have, or how my choices can make a difference.

    During these 50 days, we should remember the notion of interconnectedness. The people into whose lives we want to spill hope by simplifying our own are the ones who depend on the same resources we do for survival; who admire the same beauty of creation; who experience the same emotions we do; who share the same planet; and who are created by the same God. Our decisions will ultimately impact them, in the same way that their circumstances will ultimately impact us.

    In the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), Jesus makes clear that one’s “neighbor” is defined neither by geography nor personal relationship. It can be a complete stranger for whom we show compassion in a time of crisis. And because God has designed His creation to be interdependent, we bring hope to ourselves when we offer it to others. That should inspire us all in this season of simplifying, learning, and giving.