The following is a post from the Blood:Water Mission blog which I wrote while in Africa this past May:
I’m in Africa. It’s been 9 years since I last set foot on this continent and I must confess that I have missed it greatly. There is a certain rhythm that pulses through this continent; a coexistence of beauty and darkness that brings my soul to life in the wonder of the beauty and the challenge of the darkness. Staring out among a sea of golden brown faces flashing brilliant white smiles and trilling cheers we enter community after community, and my decidedly white ethnicity responds awkwardly as it is forced to move to the flowing rhythms of the cultural dances that accompany our celebrated entrances. Enthusiastic hands clasp mine in a monochromatic collage as I greet one after another with foreign words I barely understand. Yet the meaning is manifest in their eyes and the value extends beyond the mere words which I utter to the unspoken message that I care enough to extend myself into their world. Welcoming speeches and introductions are exchanged on couch chairs positioned in the shade of acacia trees and though we have interpreters, words will never succeed in conveying the struggles these communities face and the gratitude they extend to us. Food, the universal currency, is placed in front of us; food worth more than a week’s wages, and meager though it is, I feel honored to be received with such lavish hospitality.
What is it that warrants such joy; this sacrificial response to what amounts to little more than an hour of speeches and handshakes? The answer may not be readily obvious to most of us. The answer is not water. The answer is not latrines, or skills, or resources. To be sure there is value and gratitude in these things and these physical realities ensure meaningful life-change. But the real answer extends into what sustains the human soul. The answer is hope; belief that a relationship, however intangible, exists, and that out of that, community will emerge which will hold the keys to a changed future. No one wants to feel alone. It is one of the first profound truths expounded upon in the Bible and it applies not only to individuals but to whole communities. Isolation has always been the enemy of hope – the belief that you have been abandoned and there is no one to stand beside you. Christ’s only words of despair were uttered at the moment of His total separation from the Father, “My God my God, why have you forsaken me!?” Spoken in Aramaic, they are words that reverberate in the hearts of every language group on the planet. “Where is God?” “Where is my fellow brother, my fellow sister?”
There is a single answer to these two questions: ‘you’. Not only are we commanded to love our neighbor, but we are to be the Body of Christ; His hands, His feet, His voice. And insofar as we reach out to those without hope we do so in the place of Jesus. It’s impossible to describe the value this relational connection has to people in Africa. We express many things in our speeches to communities – words of encouragement, praise, exhortation. But there are two things that always elicit murmurs if not outright cheers: “we praise God that there is water in this community” and “we love you.” I understand water. But the idea of ‘I love you’ seems almost trite. Yet for these impoverished villages, the idea that unseen communities across the ocean are tied to their own, that this brotherhood exists and sends greetings, that they are not alone in the world but are known, recognized, and even cherished is as life-giving as the water which pours from a newly bored well. It is the water of hope.
So I encourage you – the value of your dollar is important; but the value of your love is priceless. As we bring your greetings, convey your stories, display your action to communities, we are standing as the Body of Christ answering the universal question in the hearts of man, “am I alone?” Because of you, the answer is a blessed “no”.
