Haiti follow-up

Hi, everyone!

                Hope the summer continues on in prosperity, fruitfulness, rest… hopefully we’re not too busy jumping from one busyness to the next to reflect on our lives. I’ve lately been doing a lot of that – especially since my trip to Haiti. In a land of such desolation, in the face of such tragedy, I find hope very much alive; alive in people’s stories and eyes… hope dies hard. Interestingly, I just read in Psalm 119:116b, “….And do not let me be ashamed of my hope.” It’s easy to equate hope with naivete. Let’s refuse to belittle hope in this way, as it alone has sustained and it alone will propel people like those in Haiti towards a better future.

                We arrived in Haiti and I immediately hit a brick wall… of humidity. We had late luggage and even later pickup (about 3 hours late). As you know, I was accompanied on this trip by brothers Jimmy (28) and Jason (15). We sat outside arrivals, in a breezeway of sorts, next to a cellphone cart and a trash pile. We finally trekked to the team house after enduring a brief but devastating tour of downtown Port au Prince (tragic). We set up tents on a concrete slab and planned the week.

                First, a word to the state of Port au Prince: I barely recognized it. Stacks of rubble 10 or 12 feet high piled in the medians, having simply been shoved there for lack of anywhere else to put it. Roads completely cracked down the middle. Tent villages are proliferate, “Red Cross” and “UN” and “UNICEF” logos everywhere, billowing like flags of Western philanthropy (for which the people are nothing but grateful, if a bit greedy). One tent village is built on top of a mass burial ground (150,000 bodies). People still wander the streets in droves, looking lost. There is such a feeling (again, still) of disorientation. So many homes were lost, so many people displaced… no one knows where to go or what to do. We found a teenage boy left for dead on the side of the streets – severely malnourished with wounds from what appeared to be abuse. We got a truck and took him to get medical attention but as we talked to the translators about it, he shook his head and said, “this is very common for us.”

                The first-hand reports we heard of the earthquake included the following: People simply ran out into the streets… hurt people, dying people, people missing limbs, people having babies, all in the street. There was no medical triage: it was first come, first serve and there was nowhere else to go. The congestion consisted not only of Port au Prince residents but anyone on the outskirts who could make it on foot into the city, seeking help. Finally the stench of rotting flesh overwhelmed, resulting in the necessary if somewhat insensitive mass burial movement.  

                People felt like the earth was spinning or shaking… many said they felt seasick for 3 days or more. Most of them had never lived through an earthquake, didn’t know what it was, and didn’t know what to do. In one family we met, the mother said that when the earthquake happened, she ran inside “for cover” but her 3 year old son started screaming at her to get out… he died and she escaped in time. Another woman was trapped for 2 days underneath her home before finally being pulled clear. She lost her left arm and is now afraid to go indoors.

People who had scraps to begin with now had nothing. People who had jobs are still too disoriented to find out if their employers or employment even still exists. Obviously social and economic infrastructure is virtually non-existent.

                We walked down streets and taught in a school… we fed children who shoved handfuls of mayonnaise covered spaghetti noodles into their mouths. The kids kept begging us for water; that is one shortage that is easy to forget. We visited an orphanage and gave the lady in charge school supplies and toys for the kids (that you paid for, thank you!!). She explained that over 125 children lived in the house, with 9 workers, including herself and her husband. She slept in a room with 3 infants under the age of 4 months. She said the earthquake caused such an influx of children who were displaced, not knowing whether their parents were dead or alive, and separated enough that they may never know. How can she turn them away? The boy we found on the side of the road was taken there.

                Now, I hope these accounts don’t come across as another sob story about Haiti. I understand that NONE of us have the capacity to be consciously aware of every major crisis or human rights issue on the planet at all times. However, we were all involved in this trip to Haiti: you through your contributions and I through my physical presence. And together we can at the very least remember Haiti… remember that even conservative estimations have a rebuilding of this nation between 4 & 6 years away… remember that just because there are millions of hungry and thirsty children doesn’t mean that we can forget these hungry and thirsty children.

                This trip reminded me from a personal standpoint of something: it’s easy, living here in Pennsylvania and working 40 hours a week, to come to think of missions as “exotic travels.” I tell people about my life and they coo enviously, “oh, you’ve been all over the world!” To which I have to reply, yes, I’ve been many beautiful places… I’ve also lived in a tent and slept on concrete floors… I’ve seen trash dumps, slums, projects, hovels, huts, shacks all over the world… I’ve gone to the least and the poorest and sought to brighten a corner of their lives through food and water and Christ. 

                I hope that you, friend, see this partnership of ours as something more than travel, philanthropy, or even awareness, as meaningful as all of those things can be. I went to Haiti because the people of Haiti, right now, cannot help themselves. Right now, they have the least. And Jesus, empathizing thoroughly with these very people, said, “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me,⁾ I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me” (Matthew 25:35 & 36). I think that he approvingly reminds you and me both that “…as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.”

                I may be going back to Haiti in December with a larger team. I’ll keep you posted.

LOVE and GOD’s BLESSINGS to you all! Thank you for your friendship and support.

Running off the Edge of a Cliff

I feel these days like saying, well, thanks art, we've had a good couple thousand years... humankind will now commence your destruction.

Call me a fatalist, but what in contemporary culture speaks otherwise? It's like a religious apocalypse: a small, cloistered contingency may remain but the general public has gouged its eyes and stopped its ears to truth... irrevocably?

It hit me tonight as I walked through Borders and, once again, realized that I long ago exhausted the "classics" sections. I've actually begun to worry that there are no "classics" left. Christopher said, "well, you just have to read new books... the ones that will become classics." To which I replied, "there are none." The scary thing is, I really think there may not be.


BECAUSE of the following:

The goal of artistic expression in the form of literature, film, even music has become financial. As such, like some kind of modern amphitheater that shreds dignity and appeals to only the basest human impulses, these media have become vehicles for *shock value.* Instead of spending years shaping metaphors and gleaning insights, the writers and directors of our day are amalgamating the most shocking, perverse, graphic components they can....
 -Graphic sexuality is now absolutely common in literature
 -An R-rating for a romantic comedy is now completely acceptable... things like rape, foul language, overt references to genitalia, explicit sexual depictions, masturbation, cutting off human appendages, copious and explicit bloodshed, murder (point-blank shooting, etc.) are mainstream. They aren't becoming mainstream, they ARE mainstream.

Now, I don't speak as a prude... my caveat is this: shock-value for the sake of shock-value can only last so long before these things become no longer shocking. It's like running top-speed towards the edge of a cliff... I'm sure the unknown and the wind in your hair would be a rush but at the end of this short-lived trip you actually fall off the edge of the cliff. The rush runs out. Then what?

I do think there is an end-point to this kind of presentation: I'm not sure it will become mainstream to depict sex with animals or child pornography.... so, when nothing is shocking anymore, what substance is left?
There are only so many kinds of acceptable human perversion. There are only so many simple story-lines... only so many times I want to see a poorly-done pygmalion or a re-make of Romeo and Juliet. Who is writing something new? 

Writers and filmmakers can toy with various human perversions to appeal to an uneducated audience... but pre-chewed food for thought has little nutritious value.... this "art" does not feed the multitudes, it only leaves them empty and hungry for more. This multiplies stupidity and ignorance... and ultimately creates an audience that will be easily entertained but never grow.


True art
             and it surely still exists in corners
             or chained and behind unfunded bars
                       of man's foolish inattention
Will shrivel and die
without the
            PRODUCERS
            and CONSUMERS
It requires


"Any 12 year old can pick up a camera and put something on You Tube and it's just garbage; Any 25 year old can pick up a camera and put something on You Tube and it's just slightly-better garbage. Nobody learns the skill anymore." -Chris Youell

"This is the opposite of art, this destroys art, this destroys souls... this is so much more offensive to me than hardcore pornography." Oscar from The Office

Distraction and Misinformation

     In our American world of alleged sophistication and "1st-world-ness", I find it immensely frustrating that we are so willing to judge the unknown. For all our claims of tolerance and you're-ok-I'm-ok postmodernism, I sense a much more real dynamic of intolerance, judgment, and even hatred towards people who disagree. There is perhaps no better time to see people's true colors than in a time of political transition. I feel a mixture of amusement and annoyance with facebook right now, as people who probably have no genuine political convictions feel free to vent their opinion on health care... people I know well enough to know that they have probably not researched this bill, being scared off at the first mention of "big government" and ambiguous, sinister references to socialism. The same people who didn't vote. Or who voted without truly believing that they were voting for a cause or for change. To everyone who voted for the "cool black guy" rather than a politician who made no apologies and cast no illusions that he was going to initiate change: shame on you.


     I think that a healthy discussion among people who disagree is beneficial. I do not, however, think that anyone is benefitting, growing, or becoming better educated from biting comments about how we hate our president. I voted for him knowing full well that he was going to make changes... and, frankly, he hasn't made many. I understand that I am certainly on the good end of health care reform... one of those who will benefit from it and there are those who will not. I also understand that the increase of government's involvement in things like healthcare is a change that could be a catalyst towards a mild form of socialism many many years down the road if it continues unchecked (unlikely)... but I understand these things because I've researched them. I'm okay with these things not because I'm 1. blindly committed to any partisan agenda or 2.think Obama is infallible... in any political scenario you have to pick your poison. Whatever my commitment or yours, as I know I differ with many of my friends on this issue, have some respect. If people are as angry as they sound, and hate the President that much, they can certainly relocate out of country for two years and maybe better luck next time. This hatred gets us nowhere.

Partie Deux: The Legitimacy of Youths

Disclaimer 1. I only use the word "generation" because the comparable replacements feel inadequate. I do not endorse the rampant overuse of this word as anything other than an age-bracket.
Dislcaimer 2. I do not think that a lack of respect on the part of elders for youths is without its counterpart (a lack of respect on the part of youths for elders). We are both deserving of some disdain. I simply think that here in Western PA, there is a cultural preference based on age (as though older = better).

Not youth, but youths.
Of course I preface this by saying that if anyone can see the flaws in mine and surrounding cultures/peer groups, it's me. My carefully honed critical nature has certainly given me plenty of ammo to "rip my generation a new one," if you will. However, I feel like my friends and I need to defend ourselves for a moment to those older people who would either consider us a lost cause or dismiss us as inadequate to the tasks of adulthood. Neither of these condemnations are true.

Let's consider: never has a generation been privy to both the amount and accessibility of information as ours. Do you want to know the definition of the word auspicious? Dictionary.com I can find it in... about 3 seconds. I could research obscure diseases, donate money to a charity, buy groceries & home supplies (alice.com, love it) in probably 10 min. total.

We not only have access but we also have the technological know-how to instantly familiarize ourselves with this vast body of knowledge. We've come a long way from the days of DOS and there is no arguing with the immeasurably superior ability of people my age to interact with technology from our parents' generation: they have to constantly learn and work to know new technology whereas for most of us it is not only second-nature, it's our hobby.

Education has never been more common: statistically, we have vastly more college graduates in my generation already than my parents ever had. Now, whether or not this education is as academically challenging or not, it is certainly more beneficial to go to college than simply to graduate from highschool and enter the work force.

We have much more life experience at a much younger age than our parents and grandparents. Let me explain, international travel is not only easier, it is more sought-after. I have traveled more at 24 than at least 75% of Americans in their 40's and 50's (and that's a very generous estimate). While I may not have the maturity to glean the same insights into humanity as the result of these travels as an older person, I also have a more open mind to accept cultural differences without imposing western morals or ideals.

We have traveled more places, met more people/kinds of people, communicated in more languages, done more internships, had more creative employment, eaten more kinds of food, and simply seen more than our predecessors.

All of that said, of course I realize that the majority of my peers are irresponsible, spoiled, and have no work ethic. However, I think it needs to be said that those of us who get it, who really have a handle on life, are better equipped, better educated, and have more resources than any previous generation. I'm sure the same will be said of the next.
   I need to say this because I look at people in authority, people who structure church & state, people who try to explain to me what life is like, and I feel unsure of the superiority of their vantage point. While I know there is no replacement of years, I chafe at the idea that years alone qualify someone as wise. I think true maturity comes from seeing the world as it is: I understand that war is difficult, I too have seen people shot; I understand that finances are challenging, I have lived in 3rd world poverty; I understand that life requires thought and self-improvement, I have extensively studied theology and philosophy... yes, my peers and I have a lifetime of growing up to do... but that does not illegitimize the fact that we have a voice that should be heard.
   I'm not normally this cheesy (although I almost always go on these little tirades) - but the future belongs to us, let's make the pass-off as smooth as possible.

"As is the generation of leaves, so is that of humanity.

The wind scatters the leaves on the ground, but the live timber
Burgeons with leaves again in the season of spring returning.
So one generation of men will grow while another dies."
Homer, Iliad

Change (Not As In Loose)

  Lately, in many of my life contexts, the topic of discussion has been change: the dynamic nature of life, relationships, and individuals.
  Some people, it has been posited, are pre-disposed to acclimate to change or even invite change with relative ease. Others, perhaps worriers or more type-a people, resist and even fear change.
  But here's the rub: change is inevitable... not an option... even for the unwilling worrywart, change happens. Life cycles on in its brutal karmaic tradition and our propensity to handle change well either leaves us growing and dynamic or bitter. I do think that a lot of bitterness stems from life "changing without our permission." We don't want our friends and family to move away or die. We don't want to learn new jobs and skills. We don't want to lose money, homes, security. We resent teenagers for defying our treasured traditions.....

But the times they are a'changing... and we either adapt and engage or withdraw and become irrelevant, lost in memories of "better days," stubbornly unaware that THIS is the time of the harvest, the day of salvation.

"The function off the historian is neither to love the past nor to emancipate himself from the past, but to master and understand it as the key to the understanding of the present." ~ E. H. Carr