Unpacking Ideas

My simple conclusion as a Christian was this: The policies that our Church endorses publicly ought to look a bit like the Jesus we read about in the Gospel of Luke (or Matthew, or Mark, or John). The policies we endorse as people of faith ought to protect our widows, care for our orphans, and welcome strangers in our land.

I like this motivation for mission. I want to be where the action is! I want to be wherever God is doing amazing things around the neighborhood, across the state, or across the globe. I don’t want to miss out. And if I am lucky, if I am willing to go and be present, God might even use me to accomplish something amazing.

Chris’ presence will be evidence of our continued love for the young adult orphans. His presence will be proof that we have not forgotten them, proof that we want to stay connected with them, that they will not be alone….ever. This is the evidence of incarnational love. Chris will be there.

Perhaps Arizona helps us see what we might become — our dark side. Arizona’s behavior might alert other more reasonable folks to say, “Hey, I don’t want to become like them. I am not that way. We are not that way.”

I had begun to wonder why we were making these expensive trips across the world every year. Why were we spending so much time and energy and money just to visit with a group of teenagers? Grisha taught me something very important. They feel forgotten. Without family members for support, these teenagers often wonder if anyone notices them, if anyone even remembers them.

For the children, let’s consider that our lingering resistance to comprehensive immigration reform might need to be questioned. Can we doubt our old ideas about immigrants and immigration reform long enough to have this better conversation and get a bit closer to a rational, more biblical policy that cares for all of our children?

I think effective immigration reform belongs in the middle. For me as a Christian, immigration reform makes perfect sense. And there’s good news. A middle-way approach to how we respond to our immigration crisis is being embraced by an ever-growing centrist group of religious leaders.

So, what are we to do with Haiti’s children? How do we clearly care about them? Let’s start by not scorning them. Let’s start by not hauling them away from their parents or relatives. Duh. Let’s feed them. Let’s clothe them. Let’s give them water to drink. A famous member of our Church once said something about caring for the least of these…you know, the most vulnerable among us. Who said that? I thought he was fairly clear.

We need hope. Lots of people need hope. I am thinking about the children in Haiti tonight. They need hope. Tens of thousands of them are new orphans. They just lost their moms and dads. They are alone. Children. That’s a lot of trash in their young lives. That’s a lot of decay. But I have hope that God’s love for those kids is enough. I have hope that even though the children have been ripped from the safety of their homes and families — somehow, someday, they will feel safe and loved again. I learned this from my worms.

Where there is tragedy, there are orphans, more of them. War, famine, natural disasters, social decay, all of it tends to rip apart families leaving vulnerable children without the care of a parent. This is no surprise. Tragedy makes us all a bit more vulnerable. For children its worse.

So maybe I was working out a little applied theology last night. Sure, college football is just a game, a sport, for fun. But orphans are the real deal. Widows and strangers are all around us. Not only are they the underdogs, they aren’t even in the game yet. I happen to believe God has made it quite clear what should matter most to us: widows, orphans, and strangers in our land. In other words, anyone who is most vulnerable, the underdogs among us. I like the underdog. I’m gonna’ root for them.

Where will Grisha spend Christmas Eve? Anya mentioned in her letter that the Ministry Center is hosting a Christmas Eve party today! I hope Grisha goes. And I hope our other young friends go to the party too — Yana, Vova, Anya, Slava, Alyona, Andrei, Sergei, Ira, Natasha, Nastya, Zhenya, and others — to connect, and be reminded that they are not forgotten. To our young friends in Ivanovo, Russia I write this short letter.