Travesties

   There is a kid in my youth group who has found a very interesting way of insulating himself from the travesties of the world.  He readily admits that the horrors of the world happen, he makes no attempt to lessen them or to rationalize them away.  He doesn’t simply tune out images on television or refrain from conversations of unhappy occurrences.  In fact, he took an advanced class offered by his high school that looked in depth at the occurrences of oppression, famine, and war that happen to the poorest people of our world.

            Interestingly, it is behind this knowledge of savage injustice that he finds his insulation.  He knows the problems, understands the cycles of poverty and revenge, and grasps the scope of the problem.  He realizes that it is a very complex problem, where a simple answer is unachievable.  He can do very little, so he thinks, so the logical thing is to do nothing.  Yeah, he’ll help when he can. But, idealistic pursuit of a solution?  That is pie in the sky.

Now, if he were a classmate of mine at my University, I would rip him a new orifice.  How cold!  How insensitive!  But, then again, how very different am I?  I study the problems.  I read about the plight of African countries, how “relative peace” in the DRC is only 1,200 people dieing a day due to armed conflict.  I saw “Invisible Children” and cried.  The sex trade in places like Thailand and India appalls me.  That makes me better than the guy who sat behind me in Church History last semester and during a discussion about poverty and what Christians should do about it tried to make the point we shouldn’t do anything because, “what about the people who want to be poor?” Right?

            The problem I have is this…I’ve insulated myself in my knowledge of all the bad stuff going on.  I study it, I get enraged by it, formulate my opinions about national and world political and religious leaders in regards to it.  But, what do I do about it?  I feel really significant until I think about actually doing something about it.  At that point I feel the vast insignificance of one person in a world of hurt.  I wonder if I have what it takes to make an ultimate sacrifice if I need too.  I even wonder if I have what it takes to make a small sacrifice.  When I convince myself that I have what it takes to make an ultimate sacrifice, or any sacrifice at all, I wonder if it will actually mean anything.

            Do I pray?  No.  It’s far easier to judge the actions or lack thereof others.  It’s easier to become angry, despondent, and opinionated.  My passion stirred, it arouses in me indignation I am more than willing to share with anyone who will listen.  My passion stirred, it should arouse in me a desire for fervent prayer.  It’s the beginning, and essential no matter what my part is in seeking the solution. 

Our Lord came into a world of hurt with a solution, how at times he must of been despondent at the reticence of the world to embrace peace.  Perhaps this is why He sought out the lonely places early in the morning to pray.  However, the Lord’s example is not just one of words and empty prayers.  His example is one of power.  1 Timothy 1:5 says that the gospel is not spread by word, but by power.  Jesus’ prayers and words were made meaningful in the power of the way He saw them through.  He healed, fed, and resurrected in order to show us how important showing mercy for the sick, feeding the hungry and bringing hope to the despairing are to Him.  In contrast to the Pharisees and Scribes of the day, Jesus did not teach with word and not follow them; He embodied His teaching.

His healing touch could rest upon every lame or blind person in the world, but that did not stop him from touching those he could.  His saving blood rejected by many, didn’t stop him from shedding it for those who would accept it.