It's Good And It's Bad At The Same Time
About 20 years ago, I sat with a group of children in the Khlong Toei slum area in Bangkok. The conditions were horrible, but the people’s homes were clean, neat, ordered, and cozy. I saw one blind child being included in some games with other children. The child had a condition that could have been cured with about $50 worth of meds. I was pissed but glad the child was being included in the games.
This is the world we live in: at a glance it looks dreadful and if you don’t get pissed you just are not paying attention, but upon closer inspection there is inclusion and warmth all around.
I visited a feeding program outside the townships in South Africa. These places felt dangerous, built with varying degrees of care, using old shipping containers and reclaimed wood to make houses and shops. I watched as two little brothers shared some rice and vegetables from an old ice-cream container. They had one spoon. The older boy took a mouthful, then fed his little brother a spoonful. It was both tragic and tender. I suggested that we at least buy the children plates and spoons, but found out such items would have been taken from them and sold by others.
This is the world we live in: at a glance it looks tragic, but upon closer inspection there is tenderness all around.
Kylie and I spent time in Romania with Romani people. Many of them were homeless, hungry, abused, addicted, uneducated, and scorned by society. Kylie dressed burn wounds on people, and hungry children gathered daily for basic education lessons and food. One day, as I wired some new lights in the kitchen, I heard the people singing in the garden. It was a place where quietness was encouraged, but on this day they began to sing. I knew the tune but didn’t understand the words. Slowly it came to me that it was a song by my old friend Rich Mullins. They sang about the awesomeness of God—these people who had hardly anything at all. It was strange, but beautiful.
This is the world we live in: at a glance it looks broken and abused, but upon closer inspection there is community and beauty.
We stood under a streetlight in a dark lane in India. It was another slum, another country, and we waited to see who might come to hear us sing. Slowly a crowd gathered. This slum did not spew out dirty or unclean people; rather, the children were smiling, others carried their small children on their shoulders, and the ladies came dressed in the most beautiful sarees. Even though they couldn’t understand us, they clapped and danced.
This is the world we live in: at a glance we feel as if no one understands us, but upon closer inspection we connect with one another through more than words.
We walked into the leper community in India. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Some were blind; some had fingers and toes, hands and legs missing. But the noise we heard as we walked toward the room of the compound—still forced to be outcasts and situated outside the town—was a riotous, glorious roar of joy. Many of them could not play most instruments, but they had drums, and as we joined them the most glorious, thunderous percussion beat along in perfect time with our songs.
This is the world we live in: at a glance it seems diseased and falling apart, but upon closer inspection we still find what is best in us, and we use it as fully as we can.
Nearly four years ago, at the start of the war, I traveled to Ukraine. I met a man called “Padre.” He is a musician, but he also drives endlessly to the front, bringing supplies of medical aid, etc. But he also brings his guitar into the trenches, hospitals, and family homes, bringing light and joy through music wherever he can.
This is the world we live in: at a glance it seems we only wish to destroy each other, but upon further inspection there are those who build up everyone they meet.
I only do this rant once a year. What has this got to do with Christmas? Well, if you feel like reading that story—the one about the baby being born—you know it, right? Read it again. It’s not so pretty. His parents had nothing. Those in power wanted him dead and went to horrid lengths to do so. His first visitors were exactly the kind that people were warned to stay away from, and the little family had to live out their first years in a place that was not their home.
This is the world we live in: at a glance nothing seems groovy. It’s a mess and not how we envisioned it should be. But upon closer examination there is a bigger picture—one of goodness, kindness, mercy, joy, community, justice, peace, and above all, love.
I could go on and on with stories of our friends in Burma, Thailand and more..but you get the picture right...the bigger picture.
The Christmas story isn’t a nice one, but it’s bigger and deeper than most of us even realize and I still believe that baby encapsulated all of those things that living fully offers.
There endeth the lesson.
Merry Christmas and a hopeful New Year to you all.
Rev Sam
