The Battle of the Gods
(The church of the poor vs. the church of the rich)
by Irene Loloci (LASP Spring 2006)
They both claim to have you as their God…
The rich and the poor offer sacrifices to you...
One oppresses the other, yet these things are done in your name…
The rich think they have you in their fancy church buildings,
but what they do not know is that they have buried
you and the poor underneath the foundation….
These rocks will not stand if the poor and the oppressed
are holding them and sweating blood...
This God whose name they use to oppress the weakest and the lowest
will not accept to be imprisoned inside walls built by strong hands…
He will choose to accept the sacrifice of the poor; the sacrifice they offer in the dumps and dirty streets…
He will turn His face towards them and once more Christ will be resurrected and his blessings will be on the poor and marginalized…
He will not be resurrected within rich walls, but within the poor, fallen walls of broken hearts-That is the church He will dwell in; the church that is built by martyrs fighting for justice, by children starving of hunger, by mothers and fathers walking the streets of misery…
Once more, he will be resurrected among the poor, the prostitutes, the tax collectors, the oppressed, the hungry, the orphans, the widows-all who have been crucified by the empires of this world…
The battle of the Gods will end, but not before our idols are cast out…
"Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool. What kind of house will you build for me, says the Lord, or what is the place of my rest? Did not my hand make all these things?' Acts 7:50
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LASP Moving Forward Together
by Jenny Ernst
(LASP Fall 2004)
As I stepped out of Latin America and into the Middle East, I discovered the lessons we were taught through the Latin American Studies Program (LASP) are actually universal lessons reaching far beyond the borders of Costa Rica. During my semester abroad with LASP in the fall of 2004, I had encountered a wide range of people and developed a deep respect for those different than myself. Since I was given the opportunity to live in the homes of the impoverished, marginalized and forgotten, their struggles became my own. The challenges that made them weep often brought tears to my own eyes. Following my three and a half months at LASP, I have not stopped striving to be more compassionate and aware – actively seeking to spread peace and understanding in a world wrought with confusion, biases and lack of empathy
For instance, we count the number of American soldiers lost in Iraq and shudder, but the number of Iraqi soldiers and citizens who have given their lives is often missing in translation. Their country’s sorrow does not register with us, but the sting of unnecessary loss is felt the same in the Middle East as it is in the West. Death knows no national boundaries. Why does our ability to empathize vanish when it comes to feeling compassion for those different from ourselves?
I first stepped into the Middle East during the summer of 2004, and was immediately faced with a society, culture and religion that were inconsistent with my expectations. Everything I had heard or thought about the region was overwhelmingly negative – I anticipated that the people would be cold and the culture harsh. They would not welcome me as an American or as a Christian. It was a dangerous place and a region to be avoided.
Fortunately, my actual experience in the Middle East has been remarkably positive. Initially, I was stunned by the generosity and hospitality; instead of judging me as a foreigner, people welcomed me into their homes and into their lives. Two and a half years have passed, but my first impressions have stood the test of time. As I dive deeper into what it means to be Arab, Muslim and Jordanian, I find the same benevolence, tenderness and warmth.
One woman in particular has had a strong impact on diminishing my negative perceptions. Fatima is a lovely woman who I am privileged to call teacher and friend. Every week she sits with me for an hour and teaches Arabic, but she has taught me far more than a language. She has taken me to her home and prepared feasts for my friends. Her family has next to nothing yet they offer it all without reservation. She possesses the most alive, deep and pure faith of anyone I know – Muslim or Christian. She has explained that she, as a Muslim, must respect all faiths and love all people. That was a new perspective for me. As a Christian, I have constantly been taught about the fallacies of other faiths. As an American, I have been taught that all Muslims think of us as unworthy infidels. We are unable to separate the Islamic extremists from the Fatima’s of the Arab world.
I was drawn to the Middle East by a desire to serve those living in poor living conditions with Habitat for Humanity Jordan. Habitat has been a gateway into the heart of Arab society. Its unique role in the Middle East reaches far beyond providing families in need with adequate housing to actively bringing people from around the country and around the world together through their volunteer programs. The gap between East and West lessens as volunteers from the West work alongside Arabs to build homes. To Westerners who participate in the program, the Middle East is no longer simply a troubled spot on a map, but a place with people who have names, stories, families and dreams. To Jordanians, the West is now more than a President’s international policy. It is the home of their new friends – who traveled from afar to work with them to develop their community.
Like any society, Jordan has its problems. Many women are not allowed to work outside of the house. If caught in an inappropriate situation with a man, they are always to blame and are severely punished. Honor killings exist. The driving is crazy. The pollution suffocates. Though these things are frustrating and disappointing, they are no more unacceptable than stories of domestic abuse, gang violence and political corruption that are covered on local news in the US. We all have room to grow.
Yet despite Jordan’s challenges, it is a peaceful country surrounded by continual regional unrest. Its population is varied and diverse. Like in the West, some hearts have been broken by violence or tragedy, and some have grown numb, yet others still hold hope for a better future. People dream of a day when progress and mutual respect make the news more often than body counts. It’s a universal dream, but how do we realize that dream together?
The misunderstandings and lack of communication between our two worlds have resulted in hardened hearts. Can we forgive and forget - recognizing the immense prosperity that would result? We can and we must. The road leading us to reconciliation and mutual respect is filled with people like the students of LASP who are willing to step onto the other side and see what others see -- realizing that those we often fight against are actually fighting for the same things we are. Joy is joy, mourning is mourning, and living in peace is a desired end regardless of race, religion or nationality.
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Reflection by a LASP alum
By Christie Zimmerman
Spring 2006 Newsletter
Christie Zimmerman is from Rochester, Minnesota and graduated from Cedarville University in Ohio in May 2005 with an Organizational Communications major and Business and Spanish minors. She attended LASP in the Fall of 2003 and participated in the International Business Concentration. Christie states, "[LASP] was one of the most life changing and influential times in my life and continues to be." She is currently working at Covenant Bible College Ecuador (CBCE) just outside of Quito as a Dean of Women, which has her living and working with students full time, planning activities, driving, counseling, and mentoring. The following is a reflection on her experience in Ecuador.
True happiness comes from helping others." - John Wesley-
November 15, 2005
At 22, like lots of other people, I dream of changing the world, peoples' lives and doing something that will have a lasting difference. Some people think that it's my free spirit or my thinking that I am invincible that allows me to pursue these adventures. I suppose some people think it's just a foolish, young stage everyone goes through in their twenties, feeling like they can do anything. I won't deny that some of that is true but there are a few differences in WHY I pursue the things I do than for my own glory and adventure. I choose to follow the things I do out of passion, things God has taught me and because I believe it's where God has clearly lead me. I never want to outgrow being passionate, because a life without passion is a life wasted. My greatest fear is that I will look back and regret and I refuse to let that happen. Despite my age, my nationality, my imperfect Spanish, my gender, I still believe God is using me here in
Ecuador.
Now, this doesn't mean grand, sweeping gestures like parades, marches or signing petitions. It's in very small, often unnoticed, hidden ways. Two weeks ago we took our students to the Quito Dump. Compared to the dump in Guatemala City which is home to some 10,000 people, this dump is small but is nonetheless home to around 200 people. The city doesn't want people living there and is trying to drive out the families who scrounge and scavenge through the heaps in hopes of finding something to eat, wear or with which to build a shack. Some foolishly claim that people choose to live that way, but if you're born in a landfill, where do you honestly think you're going to go?
While students washed and cut hair I held the baby of one young mother whose baby boy was only 2 months old. He was wrapped in a purple and red cloth blanket that kept his little body warm while the gray sky threatened to rain down on us. I talked with his mom and she told me that they still hadn't decided on a name yet and asked me what names I thought would be good to give to her son. The face painting turned into the children painting butterflies and hearts onto our student's faces after their little cheeks were already full of color. These gringos and Ecuadorians laughed and shared, touched and smiled, hugged and communicated in some language that is beyond words in English or Spanish. Mostly what they shared is love, love that is best described as the love of Jesus.
Our students were able to serve for one afternoon and do it in small meaningful ways. They held hands of people most would never consider touching. They hugged kids who most would want to give a bath to before holding them. They looked men in the eye, smiled and treated them as equal human beings. We didn't take anyone out of the dump with us, but for one afternoon these people were treated as more than the poorest of the poor or as just mere scavengers. At the end of the day when we left none of us noticed the smell we brought back to campus with us, because it had become a part of us.
Whenever I've had the opportunity to experience something like that it always makes me think. I am reminded of the poverty in my own country, the amount of money spent on one pair of jeans, the ridiculous things I complain about, like my computer freezing up. What keeps me up most at night though is understanding the responsibility I now have by knowing about a place like the Quito dump. So what does that mean for me personally, even on a small level? It means I am responsible for the amount of money I spend on myself every week eating out or going to movies. It means I take the time to listen to and help one of my girls here with an eating disorder. It means I care about others more than I care about the contents of my closet. The more God shows and teaches you, the more you will be held to account for, because if you know and do nothing who are you really serving first? It's hard to feel responsible for something you don't know about or haven't seen or read about. But now that you have read, you are responsible. I don't mean to preach, because this is something I struggle with everyday. It's just something that has been on my heart recently. As corny as it sounds, this is why I feel called to change the world, because I know.
Now if you know me at all, you also know I love movies, music and books. There are a couple of lines that come to mind from each that I think are very poignant.
"Now we must all fear evil men, but there is another kind of evil which we must fear most, and that is the indifference of good men."
-The Boondock Saints-
"For all great tasks, passion is needed..."
-Che Guevara A Revolutionary Life, Jon Lee Anderson, in a letter to his mother from Ernesto "Che" Guevara-
The world is on fire; it's more than I can handle
Dive into the water; try to bring my share
Try to bring more, more than I can handle
Bring it to the table; bring what I am able
-World on Fire, Sarah McLaughlan-
"It is one thing to say we believe, it's another to show compassion to others, to inconvenience ourselves because we believe."
-Sacred Pathways, Gary Thomas-
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The Hermeneutical Privilege of the Poor
When people with no land
Read about a people with no land
Being promised land,
They understand something
Which escapes us,
Who have no need of land.
When people seeking land reform
Read about the Jubilee Year,
When fathers and mothers
Whose children have been murdered by government troops,
Read about the slaughter of the innocents,
When the poor who are despised,
Read of a Jesus criticized
For associating with outcasts,
When lepers read about lepers,
When the materially poor,
Read: "Blessed are you poor,"
When a community threatened by torture,
Reflects on the scourging and crowing of Jesus,
When workers struggling to establish co-ops,
Read about "sharing all things in common,"
When campesinos threatened by death squads,
Read about the crucifixion,
or about the thousands (in Revelation)
whose garments have been soaked in blood,
Again, they understand something
Quite different than we
Who are housed,
Landed,
Physically secure,
Honored,
Unlepered,
Prosperous,
And for whom
Torture and execution must be "spiritualized"
To have meaning.
(And that something is probably
closer to the original meaning of the text)
Written by Dr. Mike Rivage-Seul who has been part of the LASP faculty for the past four semesters. He is a professor of General Studies and Religion at Berea College in Berea, KY.
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