Endings, Beginnings and the Work of the Church Amongst the Poor
In October of 2004, we decided to leave the UK for home. Heidi had completed her MSc in October, amongst the top five students, and was asked to seek publication for her thesis, which we (and they) considered quite an honour. Micah had felt that he had reached a point of wanting to move on from his work in Southall and, beside all this, our UK visa was to expire (this is something a bit quirky- when you leave the country no one checks your visa- presumably, you could overstay several months without detection…)
During our final weeks we had begun the process of looking for work following our return from the UK. The Mennonite Central Committee was an organisation that had always come to us well-recommended. During our days at Wheaton, we had known several people who had worked with MCC or had had significant contact, and had know it to be an organisation that was committed to spiritual and material development.
We have long been looking for an organisation which does not draw a false dichotomy between the spiritual and the physical existence or, by extension, the spiritual and physical needs of the human person. It strikes me that perhaps the tendency toward this dichotomy has similar roots to that which fails to see an intrinsic value in the natural realm as compared to the spiritual realm. In both cases, there is implicit the notion that only the spiritual is of any consequence. In the former, we see the well being of the physical body (particularly the physical body of the poor person) as only important in so far as it does not hinder his hearing the Gospel. In the second case, the created realm is only important in so far as it provides a habitat in which the human person can exist long enough to hear and believe the Gospel.
When Jesus first spoke in public, he quoted from the prophet Isaiah:
‘The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.’
It is most interesting that the majority of Christians in North America, I imagine, would say this was meant primarily, or even exclusively, in a figurative and spiritual sense. The poor he speaks of are the ‘poor in spirit.’ That in itself is interesting, for there are written for us four Gospels, in one of which (Matthew) it is written ‘poor in spirit’ where Luke, for instance, merely writes ‘poor’ (this in regard to the Sermon on the Mount). It is interesting that we from the developed world would immediately cling to that account which would relieve us of any fear that God has a preference for the poor. Such has always been the bent of humanity, who are by nature idolaters. Idolaters in that we insist on fashioning a god after our own imaginings. There are many examples to suggest- no, more than that, to insist-- that the mission of Christ (and therefore the requisite mission of his Church) was that of liberation from all powers that oppress-- spiritual and physical. If one reads from Genesis onward, one sees an unbroken theme—the creation of the world in perfection—the Fall of all creation through the sin of the human person-- the promise of redemption for all of the created world-- the redemption brought by Christ—the consummation when he returns at the end of all things to renew the heavens and the earth. If we can manage to do away with the idea that the story of Scripture is the story of the spiritual world alone, then we may just manage to purge ourselves and our church of this gnostic heresy.
I am sorry that I am not able to write more persuasively or more intelligently about all this. It may be, too, that in the writing of this the idea sounds rather too simplistic to be of much import. One might say, ‘well of course we believe such things.’ But so long as believers choose to live the lifestyles of the rich whilst millions suffer for want of basic necessities, so long as we in the West wilfully choose to live as though the abundance of our resources were nothing more than a reason to be thankful (rather than the serious moral responsibility that they are), then I think it likely that our theology has shrunk so small so as to not be worthy of the Name we profess.
There is no love which is not love demonstrated. Evidence of this abounds. Isaiah 58 is an oft quoted passage on true fasting. What is the fast of God? Is it bowing one’s head like a reed, or lying in sackcloth and ashes (that is, personal or symbolic humbling)—no, it is to set the oppressed free and to break every yoke of oppression, to provide the poor wanderer with shelter, and not to turn away from those in need.
Throughout Scripture these themes are continually developed:
In I John, it is written, ‘we know that we have passed from death into life, because we love our brothers. Anyone who does not love remains in death. Anyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life in him. This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue, but with actions and in truth.’
And James writes, ‘what good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such a faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes or daily food. If one of you says to him, ‘Go, I wish you well, keep warm and well-fed,’ but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?’
How can we say that the will of God is other than this? Do we recall the parable of the seed being sown amongst the thorns? The thorns represent the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of wealth. Why is it that we are so seldom concerned about wealth being deceitful? We sometimes are. But how do we understand the deceitfulness of wealth? We imagine that wealth is only so evil that it tells us that we are sufficient in ourselves and do not have to rely upon God. Nonsense. The deceitfulness of wealth is so very much more sinister. Jesus said, ‘it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven.’ We must ask ourselves seriously, does it seem to us that it is difficult at all for a rich person to enter Heaven? Seriously. Our churches are filled to the brim with the wealthy and the powerful, and we know we belong to the Kingdom because we tell ourselves that though we are wealthy to be sure, we still acknowledge that we are dependant on God. Great! Such serious Scriptural warnings are so easily overcome! If Christ says that the salvation of the rich is nigh unto impossible, but we see it being accomplished so very easily, perhaps we misjudge who it is who is really entering heaven. I am certain that the deceitfulness of wealth is something much darker and much more powerful than mere feelings of self-sufficiency. Wealth blinds us to a proper theology of God. Our wealth convinces us that our lives must honour God, and our material resources are the result of his blessing for our faithfulness. Wealth tells us that Jesus’ statement that his mission is to bring good news to the poor and to break the yoke of oppression was only a rhetorical device—and thus we are safe. The yoke remains and, more than this, it has the blessing of our church.
Jesus said, ‘When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and come to visit you?’
The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’
Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from you, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison, and you did not look after me.’
If we are able to be at all honest with ourselves, where will we stand at the end of all things? We in the Western church have, by and large, stood and looked into the face of the least of these brothers of Christ, and said, ‘go, I wish you well, be warm and well fed,’ and have done nothing. Worse than that, we have knowingly supported political and economic systems which deprive the least of these of fair wages and fair markets, we have supported aggressive wars against them and their children, we have promoted the cause of the wealthy and trampled on the rights of the poor.
The deceitfulness of wealth has naught to do with our feelings. Wealth deceives us into immasculating our Faith, into twisting Scripture so it cannot do more than merely prick the surface of our leathern consciences. Our wealth has deceived us into creating false gods who support our lives of affluence and whisper into our ears that more good things are to come, for God so very much wants to bless us. How is it that our ears are deaf to the fires of Hell which roar within these comforting whispers?
Enough of tirading for now. In part, I would like it if our friends could respond to these things. I know that not all of you who read this blog will agree with what I am saying. There are a great number of us who believe that the great material wealth of America (and elsewhere) is naught but a great big birthday present for us, and we shouldn’t be ashamed of it. I wish only for us to be able to discuss it. I find too often that this topics is silenced (again, I would say, the deceitfulness of wealth), and no constructive dialogue is allowed. Surely, if so much of Scripture is devoted to speaking about God’s relationship to the poor, and our responsibilities to the poor, it must at least be necessary for us to think critically about where we stand. It is not so much that we (the Ingalls) have done so very well in this category. I do not think the discussion must boil down to all of us either taking a vow of poverty and giving all we have to the poor on the one hand, or be doomed to hell on the other. All of this comes to this point: do we love others as we love of ourselves? We all know that there are millions who suffer and die for lack of basic necessities- millions of Christians as well as non-Christians- and what are we doing?
I fear we fatten ourselves for the day of slaughter.
I am sorry to have gone on for so long. My purpose was to relate the circumstances through which we sought out a position with the Mennonite Central Committee. We wanted to work with an organisation which reaches out to the whole person- the physical as well as the spiritual, and does not draw false dichotomies between the spiritual and the material mission of the church.
MCC has had a long history of mission to the whole person. When Heidi came near the end of her studies in London, we applied to MCC for a position they had in Laos, where she would work as a Public Health Advisor for a primary health care project. I will cut this bit of history short, for it is a long one. Suffice it to say that we did get the position and, after waiting six months in America for permission of the Lao government, we left for Laos on 14 May 2005, to begin a term with MCC.
During our final weeks we had begun the process of looking for work following our return from the UK. The Mennonite Central Committee was an organisation that had always come to us well-recommended. During our days at Wheaton, we had known several people who had worked with MCC or had had significant contact, and had know it to be an organisation that was committed to spiritual and material development.
We have long been looking for an organisation which does not draw a false dichotomy between the spiritual and the physical existence or, by extension, the spiritual and physical needs of the human person. It strikes me that perhaps the tendency toward this dichotomy has similar roots to that which fails to see an intrinsic value in the natural realm as compared to the spiritual realm. In both cases, there is implicit the notion that only the spiritual is of any consequence. In the former, we see the well being of the physical body (particularly the physical body of the poor person) as only important in so far as it does not hinder his hearing the Gospel. In the second case, the created realm is only important in so far as it provides a habitat in which the human person can exist long enough to hear and believe the Gospel.
When Jesus first spoke in public, he quoted from the prophet Isaiah:
‘The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.’
It is most interesting that the majority of Christians in North America, I imagine, would say this was meant primarily, or even exclusively, in a figurative and spiritual sense. The poor he speaks of are the ‘poor in spirit.’ That in itself is interesting, for there are written for us four Gospels, in one of which (Matthew) it is written ‘poor in spirit’ where Luke, for instance, merely writes ‘poor’ (this in regard to the Sermon on the Mount). It is interesting that we from the developed world would immediately cling to that account which would relieve us of any fear that God has a preference for the poor. Such has always been the bent of humanity, who are by nature idolaters. Idolaters in that we insist on fashioning a god after our own imaginings. There are many examples to suggest- no, more than that, to insist-- that the mission of Christ (and therefore the requisite mission of his Church) was that of liberation from all powers that oppress-- spiritual and physical. If one reads from Genesis onward, one sees an unbroken theme—the creation of the world in perfection—the Fall of all creation through the sin of the human person-- the promise of redemption for all of the created world-- the redemption brought by Christ—the consummation when he returns at the end of all things to renew the heavens and the earth. If we can manage to do away with the idea that the story of Scripture is the story of the spiritual world alone, then we may just manage to purge ourselves and our church of this gnostic heresy.
I am sorry that I am not able to write more persuasively or more intelligently about all this. It may be, too, that in the writing of this the idea sounds rather too simplistic to be of much import. One might say, ‘well of course we believe such things.’ But so long as believers choose to live the lifestyles of the rich whilst millions suffer for want of basic necessities, so long as we in the West wilfully choose to live as though the abundance of our resources were nothing more than a reason to be thankful (rather than the serious moral responsibility that they are), then I think it likely that our theology has shrunk so small so as to not be worthy of the Name we profess.
There is no love which is not love demonstrated. Evidence of this abounds. Isaiah 58 is an oft quoted passage on true fasting. What is the fast of God? Is it bowing one’s head like a reed, or lying in sackcloth and ashes (that is, personal or symbolic humbling)—no, it is to set the oppressed free and to break every yoke of oppression, to provide the poor wanderer with shelter, and not to turn away from those in need.
Throughout Scripture these themes are continually developed:
In I John, it is written, ‘we know that we have passed from death into life, because we love our brothers. Anyone who does not love remains in death. Anyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life in him. This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue, but with actions and in truth.’
And James writes, ‘what good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such a faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes or daily food. If one of you says to him, ‘Go, I wish you well, keep warm and well-fed,’ but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?’
How can we say that the will of God is other than this? Do we recall the parable of the seed being sown amongst the thorns? The thorns represent the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of wealth. Why is it that we are so seldom concerned about wealth being deceitful? We sometimes are. But how do we understand the deceitfulness of wealth? We imagine that wealth is only so evil that it tells us that we are sufficient in ourselves and do not have to rely upon God. Nonsense. The deceitfulness of wealth is so very much more sinister. Jesus said, ‘it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven.’ We must ask ourselves seriously, does it seem to us that it is difficult at all for a rich person to enter Heaven? Seriously. Our churches are filled to the brim with the wealthy and the powerful, and we know we belong to the Kingdom because we tell ourselves that though we are wealthy to be sure, we still acknowledge that we are dependant on God. Great! Such serious Scriptural warnings are so easily overcome! If Christ says that the salvation of the rich is nigh unto impossible, but we see it being accomplished so very easily, perhaps we misjudge who it is who is really entering heaven. I am certain that the deceitfulness of wealth is something much darker and much more powerful than mere feelings of self-sufficiency. Wealth blinds us to a proper theology of God. Our wealth convinces us that our lives must honour God, and our material resources are the result of his blessing for our faithfulness. Wealth tells us that Jesus’ statement that his mission is to bring good news to the poor and to break the yoke of oppression was only a rhetorical device—and thus we are safe. The yoke remains and, more than this, it has the blessing of our church.
Jesus said, ‘When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and come to visit you?’
The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’
Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from you, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison, and you did not look after me.’
If we are able to be at all honest with ourselves, where will we stand at the end of all things? We in the Western church have, by and large, stood and looked into the face of the least of these brothers of Christ, and said, ‘go, I wish you well, be warm and well fed,’ and have done nothing. Worse than that, we have knowingly supported political and economic systems which deprive the least of these of fair wages and fair markets, we have supported aggressive wars against them and their children, we have promoted the cause of the wealthy and trampled on the rights of the poor.
The deceitfulness of wealth has naught to do with our feelings. Wealth deceives us into immasculating our Faith, into twisting Scripture so it cannot do more than merely prick the surface of our leathern consciences. Our wealth has deceived us into creating false gods who support our lives of affluence and whisper into our ears that more good things are to come, for God so very much wants to bless us. How is it that our ears are deaf to the fires of Hell which roar within these comforting whispers?
Enough of tirading for now. In part, I would like it if our friends could respond to these things. I know that not all of you who read this blog will agree with what I am saying. There are a great number of us who believe that the great material wealth of America (and elsewhere) is naught but a great big birthday present for us, and we shouldn’t be ashamed of it. I wish only for us to be able to discuss it. I find too often that this topics is silenced (again, I would say, the deceitfulness of wealth), and no constructive dialogue is allowed. Surely, if so much of Scripture is devoted to speaking about God’s relationship to the poor, and our responsibilities to the poor, it must at least be necessary for us to think critically about where we stand. It is not so much that we (the Ingalls) have done so very well in this category. I do not think the discussion must boil down to all of us either taking a vow of poverty and giving all we have to the poor on the one hand, or be doomed to hell on the other. All of this comes to this point: do we love others as we love of ourselves? We all know that there are millions who suffer and die for lack of basic necessities- millions of Christians as well as non-Christians- and what are we doing?
I fear we fatten ourselves for the day of slaughter.
I am sorry to have gone on for so long. My purpose was to relate the circumstances through which we sought out a position with the Mennonite Central Committee. We wanted to work with an organisation which reaches out to the whole person- the physical as well as the spiritual, and does not draw false dichotomies between the spiritual and the material mission of the church.
MCC has had a long history of mission to the whole person. When Heidi came near the end of her studies in London, we applied to MCC for a position they had in Laos, where she would work as a Public Health Advisor for a primary health care project. I will cut this bit of history short, for it is a long one. Suffice it to say that we did get the position and, after waiting six months in America for permission of the Lao government, we left for Laos on 14 May 2005, to begin a term with MCC.
posted by Ingalls | 09:17
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