Showing posts with label Broken Heart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Broken Heart. Show all posts

Monday, August 23, 2010

Helping Without Hurting, part 1

One of the consistent topics I wrote about this summer was my growing passion for battling poverty and the things that cause it in this world. However, the more I have sought answers, the bigger and more difficult to solve the problem appeares. Poverty is completely pervasive in this world. It is everywhere. It is huge. Thinking about taking it on makes me feel like Apollo Creed about to step in the ring with Ivan Drago. (If you don't know Rocky, click the link).

Yet, no matter how huge the problem is (and it is), I am dead set on looking for ways to solve it. Why? Because my heart was broken. As I become passionate about one thing or another (such as my skepticism towards church, disgust towards Christian politics, etc.), I seek out ways to further my understanding of the subject. I have no illusions that my ideas are the best; rather, I choose seek out experts in their respective fields and hear what they have to say. After learning from people who know more than I do, I adjust my own ideas and beliefs and move forward from there.

If I am going to claim that I want to learn from experts, I need to back it up by doing so. There are some particular individuals whom I call friends who have a similar passion for social justice and helping society. Picking their brains has steered me toward a handful of books and experts from which to learn. These books include The End of Poverty by Sachs, When Helping Hurts by Corbett and Fikkert, among others.

Very recently I began reading the Corbett/Fikkert book (thank you Amazon) with a great deal of anticipation and excitement. One of the ideas I have struggled with in the last few months is the value (or lack thereof) of short term missions. It seems to me that the costs associated with providing a large group of high school or college students with travel (airfare), lodging, food and other things become extremely expensive, and in large part is wasted. Perhaps I should provide a fictional example to illustrate what I am talking about. Let's say that we have a youth group of, say, 20 high schoolers. This group wants to take a week long mission trip to, say, Mexico, and build a church (or school or orphanage or whatever). According to Expedia, a roundtrip flight from Cincinnati to Houston would cost roughly $200 per person. The people on this trip would have to eat, so there would be costs associated with that. $15 per day per person for food costs sounds appropriate. Day to day costs of transportation to and from the worksite (buses, etc.) might cost up to $100 per person for the week. And so on. In general, individual costs for a mission trip can get up to $1000, but for my purposes here we can benchmark it at $500 for each person on the trip. Not unreasonable at all.

Twenty kids at 500 bucks apiece adds up to ten grand. Ten thousand dollars. Imagine how much good could be done with $10,000 in an impoverished community in a second or third world country. Instead, we use that money to send wide-eyed students with no skills or experience into a situation where they are by and large useless except for basic manual labor. In my high school, these trips are happening with 200 kids, not just twenty. The money being spent is astronomical. Here is my alternative: pay contractors in the country to build the church/school/whatever. This creates jobs (both for specialists and for manual labor) in places where work is likely difficult to come by, and in doing so helps the local economy in addition to helping whatever specific group the building or whatnot was for. Or give the money to missionaries who live in the community and know best how it can be spent. Or use the money to plant a missionary. Et cetera.

This is the (very) basic idea behind my many thoughts on short term missions. I hate the idea of wasted resources, and it seems as though more could be done with the money we use to send kids (or whomever) on these trips. But Corbett and Fikkert take this to another level. To these men it appears that our well-intentioned missions work and charity to third world areas isn't just wasting resources, but it is actually hurting the communities there. I began reading their book with all this in mind, and encountered the following selection in the introduction:
"We write this book with a great deal of excitement about the renewed interest in helping low-income people that is so apparent among North American Christians. While materialism, self-centeredness, and complacency continue to plague all of us, nobody can deny the upswing in social concern among North American evangelicals in the past two decades. There is perhaps no better illustration of this trend than the exploding short-term mission movement, much of which has focused on ministering to the poor at home and abroad.

But our excitement about these developments is seriously tempered by two convictions. First, North American Christians are simply not doing enough. We are the richest people ever to walk the face of the earth. Period. Yet, most of us live as though there is nothing terribly wrong in the world. We attend our kids' soccer games, pursue our careers, and take beach vacations while 40 percent of the world's inhabitants struggle just to eat every day. And in our own backyards, the homeless, those residing in ghettos, and a wave of imigrants live in a world outside the economic and social mainstream of North America. We do not necessarily need to feel guilty about our wealth. But we do need to get up every morning with a deep sense that something is terribly wrong with the world and yearn and strive to do something about it. There is simply not enough yearning and striving going on.

Second, many observers, including Steve and I, believe that when North American Christians do attempt to alleviate poverty, the methods used often do considerable harm to both the materially poor and the materially non-poor. Our concern is not just that these methods are wasting human, spiritual, financial, and organizational resources but that these methods are actually exacerbating the very problems they are trying to solve."

The goal, then, becomes to discover methods that do not harm the people we are trying to help. The reason this post has a "part 1" at the end of the title is because I hope to relay what I learn as I go through the book. Maybe I won't learn anything and the book will turn out to be a complete waste of money. I hope that is not the case. We will see. But either way, I'm going to keep searching for ways that I can help solve this problem. Or maybe push/inspire/convince other people to solve the problem in ways I cannot. The only thing that is unacceptable is doing nothing.

And so on...

Thursday, June 24, 2010

The Value of a Broken Heart


“May my heart be broken.”

Last night I visited the World Vision Experience: AIDS at the Super Vineyard in Springdale. Before I say anything else, I highly encourage anyone and everyone to go. The Experience takes no more than half an hour, and it will open your eyes and impact your perceptions significantly. The Experience is here until Sunday, June 27th, open until 9:00 pm each night (Sunday it closes at 8). If you think you have an understanding of the AIDS crisis on this planet (and specifically in Africa), go anyway. You will not regret it.

The quote I included above is one I ran across at the end of the Experience, and one I will come back to frequently throughout this post. The final part of the walkthrough includes a wall where visitors are encouraged to voice a prayer on paper and tack it to the wall, where it can be used as encouragement to others. As I went to add mine to the many already present, one leaped out at me among the rest. Surrounded by prayers that filled up pages, expressing emotions and beliefs and encouragement, a single line on a single page made me stop. “May my heart be broken.” I could not look away and I could not focus on anything else. Nothing more needed to be said. In that moment, a wave of understanding and emotion washed over me.

Each of us has experienced heartbreak at some point in life. I know that my heart has been broken, mended and broken again many times – a sort of wash, rinse, repeat cycle. Society has created within us an aversion to heartbreak; this certainly makes sense, considering that heartbreak is one of the most painful things any of us can experience in our lives. In this culture, we work endlessly to remove the possibility of heartbreak; one night stands, monotonous desk jobs and a suburban lifestyle are all ways we try to compartmentalize our lives and live it without emotion. A one night stand without a name or a connection carries with it no emotion, no possibility of a broken heart the next morning. Maybe emptiness, but not heartbreak. By refusing to connect with people on an emotional level, we eliminate the power they have over us to break our hearts, to make an imprint on our emotional state. We attempt to live our lives as emotional hermits in a world that is begging to witness real, pure, raw emotion.

This attempt to live our emotional lives like a hermit on Times Square is understandable. Certainly each time my heart is broken I am less willing to make my entire heart available to the next person or the next cause. If I dive headfirst emotionally into a romantic relationship and end up getting burned, odds are that the next time I might just dip my toe in the water. I will be much more cautious, less willing to take the chance. As a good friend of mine pointed out, the first break up we have is always the hardest, and we will likely never love as freely or ‘throw caution to the wind’ like we did in our first relationship. She correctly noted that this is explained by our ability to love without fear in our first relationship; there was no history of getting burned, therefore no fear of it.

I believe that the important truth we have been ignoring is the benefit of having our hearts broken. I know, it sounds backwards. Even with all of the pain and sadness it can cause, I firmly believe that there are some immeasurable positives that can come from such an experience.

The first benefit that comes with having my heart broken is something it tells me about myself. If I do not care about something, it cannot break my heart. It simply is not possible. However, having my heart broken tells me that I cared, that I was emotionally invested. In the aftermath of a Finals Game 7 loss to the Lakers, Doc Rivers (coach of the Celtics) had the following to say (per espn.com): "There's a lot of crying in that locker room," Rivers said. "A lot of people who care. I don't think there was a dry eye. A lot of hugs, a lot of people feeling awful. That's a good thing. Showed a lot of people cared." They were emotionally drained and broken, in a real way. When this happens to me, it tells me that my emotions were not fraudulent, that I can trust myself to be passionate about something and care about it deeply without worrying that the emotions are not real. The importance of being able to trust my emotions as real is huge. If I were to lose my best friend and not bat an eye or shed a tear, if I were to respond to losing a relationship with someone I loved without emotion, I would be forced to question my ability to feel and to invest in someone emotionally in a real way. Having my heart broken lets me know that I am capable of real emotion.

Another benefit to having your heart broken is the ability to be healed. I would not claim that being healed from a broken heart is certain or easy, but when it happens the relief and peace that comes with it is unmatched. The few times I have experienced that healing have been some of the most hopeful, peaceful and exciting times of my life. Some might argue that the hope coupled with being healed is not worth the pain associated with having your heart broken; I disagree. Few things are as valuable as hope, and new hope is a commodity that cannot be replicated. As I have written before, hope is perhaps the most important thing I can hold onto. “Remember, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.” Without hope, I cannot have passion. Without passion, my life is meaningless.

The third benefit is the one I am concerned with the most, as I believe it to be the most important and as having the largest impact. The simple premise is this: I believe that without having our hearts broken, we cannot experience compassion for others in a real way. That truth is what I realized as I wondered at the wisdom contained in that single sentence on the prayer wall. “May my heart be broken.” I have written many times before about my search for my passions, and how I believe that part of my purpose is to fight against poverty and economic injustice. The thing is, my heart was never truly broken for victims of poverty or AIDS or war. Sure, I felt bad. But no one wants to hear about genocide; it isn’t proper table conversation. Average churchgoers don't want to hear about the slums and ghettos all over the United States; instead we just ignore the drug and poverty problems in our country and blame the issues on a lack of morality or something along those lines.

For years I have wanted to do my part, but I think it came more from a sense of duty than anything else. I saw a problem, I wanted to be a part of the solution. That’s how my mind functions, and that is how my beliefs on social justice developed. But yesterday, hearing the stories I heard and seeing the problems as nakedly as I have ever seen, my heart broke. My passion to fight for these people isn’t coming from a sense of duty anymore. It is coming from a broken heart that feels immense compassion for them. No, I do not understand what they are going through, and I almost certainly never will. But when my heart broke for them, my perspective shifted. While my passion for action and change will not be different, the motive behind it is. It isn’t an equation anymore; now I feel. Now I ache. I hope that all of us have the opportunity to experience a moment of heartbreak. The compassion I felt last night, the compassion I feel right now - I want to see that imprinted on other people. If we begin to ache for the marginalized, impoverished and forgotten, we will seek out ways to make an impact, be it at home or abroad; if we begin to feel compassion, in a real way, maybe we will actually do something.

May all of our hearts be broken. And so on…