Funeral

*I wrote this yesterday, and the sun was shining again today :)*

The sun is shining for the first time since last Saturday.  Summer in South Africa is rainy season, and though the rains were late in coming, they came with a vengeance.  I confess (and this may shock some of you), that I did not mind having the coolness the rain brought for a little while.  But this morning, as I dragged myself out of bed at 6 to attend the funeral of my neighbor across the street, I was not very happy for the rain.  I never met him, but here funerals, like so many other events, are a community event.  Mama Jane and I were over there yesterday chopping cabbage for three hours.  Petunia had only recently been talking about how it is so significant for the community for you to attend events-seeing you at their weddings and funerals means you are one of them.  I kept reminding myself of that as I grudgingly pulled on more clothing than I’ve had to wear since I got to South Africa two months and one week ago.

We walked outside and our street had turned into an ankle deep creek.  There was no way around it, we simply had to trudge through it to get to our neighbors house, and then again to get to the bus that was hired to take us to the cemetery.  I may as well have not worn shoes, as my boots, socks, and leggings were immediately soaked through and through.  On top of that, I had left my umbrella at my friend’s house in Pretoria, and the only one Mama Jane had to offer me was her granddaughter’s umbrella.  I must have been quite a site-the only white person there, standing in the cemetery with a tiny pink Hannah Montana umbrella.  It was pretty classic.  The affair only last a couple of hours because all of us did not fit in the tent that was set up for the meal, so they gave it to us to go and sent us home.  I was steeling myself for an at least half day event (I have been to a six hour long graduation and a five and half hour long church service, so it’s not implausible).  We were not able to hear any of the sermon, and I never even managed to speak to the man’s nieces and nephew, whom he raised after they were orphaned by AIDS.  But I was there, which is all that matters to the community.  Yet another lesson in incarnational living-most of the battle is simply showing up.

Learning to Receive

Anybody who knows me, probably knows that I am not very good at receiving.  (I think I've gotten better in recent years, though).  I enjoy my illusion of being independent, and not having to rely on anyone.  I think lately, God is trying to pry that away from me.  In reading the story in Luke 21 of the widow giving her two coins, we were posed with a question I had never considered on reading this passage: how can we affirm the poor in giving the little they have to offer?  It makes me uncomfortable, receiving, especially when I know the sacrifice it requires from others.  Yet after that challenge, I decided to give it a try.  After all, when we receive from others, it affirms that they have something valuable to offer.  One of the commitments in InnerCHANGE is to humility, and God is teaching me to humbly accept that others have something to offer, and that I need them to offer that. 
Whether it is a few rand from my neighbor to thank me for baking him cookies, or a lollipop from kids who have very little money to spare but choose to share it with me, or company on a walk I should not take alone, I am learning to affirm that their gifts are worth giving.  That they have something to offer to others (even a comparatively rich white girl).  Indeed, that they should offer to others. And hopefully, in accepting those things, large and small, God is prying away that illusion that I am self-sufficient, and the prideful feeling that I am the one who has something to offer.  Thank goodness I don't.

Why I Believe in Incarnational Ministry, Part 2

I believe that incarnational ministry leads to being able to more effectively and relevantly serve the poor.  However as InnerCHANGE founder, John Hayes, points out, it is not merely a methodology, it is also a message.  He states, “When we move into a poor neighborhood, we send the message that if love is costly, then those who are the object of such love are worth much.  This is especially important to the poor, who bear the weight of the world’s low opinion of them.  GK Chesterton wrote, ‘No plans or proposals or efficient rearrangements will give back to a broken man his self-respect and sense of speaking with an equal. [But] one gesture will do it.”  A phrase I’ve heard repeatedly is the medium is the message.  Beyond any programs we may implement and activities we may take part in, the mere fact that we have consciously chosen to link our fate to that of our poor brothers and sisters speaks volumes.  If you have to earn the right to be heard, that is a powerful way to earn that right.  When your neighbors see you living with them, suffering with them, and celebrating with them, they are more likely to be willing to hear what we have to say.  

Further, I am convinced that our call to serve the poor goes beyond effective development strategies.  Jesus could have, with simply a thought, healed everyone.  But he didn’t do that.  When a woman who had been bleeding for years touched his cloak and was immediately healed, he could have kept on walking-the job was done. But he wasn’t content with just a physical healing.  He saw her spiritual needs as well.  He stopped and he engaged her.   He wasn’t interested in the role of impersonal “service provider,” but wanted to speak to, touch, and engage those who healed.  In that way the healing was not just physical, but spiritual.  Christ’s ministry was nothing if not relational.  It’s easy to look around at the need and be driven to address it.  You could spend all your time on poverty alleviation programs and strategies.  But that only addresses one need.  That does not transform people, and a transformed community comes from transformed people, not vice versa.   While it can feel like we are not spending our time as effectively when we spend it getting to know our community and living our daily lives among them, I think the message that we communicate through our lives-that they are valuable; that there is good in this community- in the end impacts more deeply.  

So when I feel frustrated that some of my time is spent in mundane activities like cleaning my room, and walking my new “little sister” to day care, I trust the experiences of others and the sense in my own heart that my life is portraying a message that Soshanguve and those in it are worth my time and my life.

Books that informed and inspired this post and part 1: The Urban Halo, by Craig Greenfield; Living Mission: The Vision and Voices of New Friars, edited by Scott Bessenecker; and Sub-Merge, by John Hayes.