When doing the right thing is wrong

photo by The Independent

Perhaps you may have read this week about the group of American Baptist volunteers arrested in Haiti for trying to take 33 Haitian children out of the country (a longer article here).

I confess that I’m of several minds about this, and don’t really know what to say. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Mine are scattered:

First, I am inclined to believe that the group is speaking the truth– I think they were trying to do the right thing, trying to get children to a place where they could offer them medical attention. They were frustrated with the system and so tried to circumvent it, and that was in a word, stupid. But traffickers in children are a little more organized and sneaky than church volunteers in a minibus. I think they saw children in pain, and they had means to try to help, and they were frustrated by the slow progress of the Haitian government and relief volunteers to do anything about it. So they thought hey, why not do something ourselves?

Because doing something themselves was illegal. It is in fact a crime to transport someone else’s child, particularly across national boundaries, without permission. Even for medical attention. I had to sign a form at my kid’s day care so they can take her 3 miles to the hospital should she need medical attention. They have to have that form on record to move her anywhere. Duh. Some of the 33 children had living parents and other relatives. Maybe the volunteers tried to determine that and were hindered; maybe they didn’t. Doesn’t matter, because what they did was wrong. They took already devastated children away from their families and diminished the possibility of those families finding them.

It’s one of the frustrating truths that helping others, even in lifesaving ways, can often get bogged down in red tape. And while we rage and scream and rant against bureaucracies, especially ones buried under rubble, they exist for a reason. Sometimes those reasons seem foolish, like the survival of their own institutionalism, but sometimes those reasons are dreadfully important, like trying to keep families torn apart by disaster together. For those who want to help, it is vitally important to work with the systems in place as best we can because, as in this case, our well-intensioned muddling might do great harm.

Of small but not irrelevant note to me are the thousands upon thousands of families in the US, probably millions around the world, who have gone through process after process, home visit after home visit, hoping to fill their hearts and their homes with an adopted child, just waiting to hear back from an agency somewhere. For these parents-at-heart, who have raged against the red tape for so long, the careless actions of 10 volunteers in Haiti wound them too, making it that much harder to trust those who want to adopt or foster the children orphaned by this disaster or any other circumstance around the world.

And yet, all that said, I doubt a bit.

What if some of those 33 children die, waiting for the care that the volunteers were able to provide?

I myself was tempted, during my trips in Ecuador, to bring home some of the children I saw there, even jokingly packing the 3-year-old into my duffel bag to take home with me, while we all laughed and cried at my impending departure. I know what it is to love a child you’ve never seen before, and if that child is hurting, is starving?

Taking this to the hypothetical, I ask myself: if I were in a place where no help was coming, or was very slow in coming, and if there was a child that I believed was orphaned, and I observed was hungry if not starving and in need of medical care, and I had the resources to help, but not the means to move those resources to the child, would I take the child to the resources? And depending on the severity and immediacy of the need in my hypothetical scenario, I can imagine that I would. I would do so knowing that I was breaking the law, several of them in fact. But I would perhaps judge a law that condemns a child to death unnecessarily to be an unjust law. I would willingly go to prison for the crime, and if it saved the child’s life, I would consider it worth the price.

What this group did was wrong– well-intentioned maybe, but foolish, uniformed, and wrong. But I wonder. Did they save lives, even by bringing these children to the attention of the authorities? Because some times the wrong thing is right. And some times the right thing is wrong.

How do you wrestle with this moral dilemma?

Sermon: Many Gifts/The Greatest Gift

“Many Gifts/The Greatest Gift”

(January 17, 2010) Much as I attempted a segue between the two– right about 12m30s if you’re looking for just the second half, this recording really contains two sermons, or one sermon and one ’special comment.’

Each of us has a particular way in which we live out our spirituality, unique to us. We can, however, try to learn more about our spirituality type and so celebrate and strengthen who we are as spiritual people (rather than beating ourselves up for not being as spiritual as we think we should be!). Do you experience your faith with your thoughts and words, with your emotions, with your being, or with your actions? What are the things that move you and help you feel more connected to the Holy?*

Although there is no one right way to be a spiritual person, there are some wrong ways (like blaming victims of natural disasters for their plight), and there is one ‘greatest way,’ the way or the gift of love. This past week, we have seen powerful examples of those who gave the greatest gift, some of them with their lives, and we give thanks to God for their love and witness.** (1 Corinthians 12:1-11)

—

notes:

*The tool I’m inviting my congregations to use to reflect upon their spirituality types comes from Discover Your Spirituality Type by Corrine Ware. Her work (particularly not the inventory of questions) is not reproduced anywhere online that I can point you to, but a couple of places have some resources based on her model, which may help illustrate what I’m describing. I will not, however, upload the specific tool I am giving the congregations, to protect Ms. Ware’s intellectual property.

**In my comments I mention the death toll in Haiti as 50,000, which was the American Red Cross estimate as of Sunday morning. Since then, especially since the likelihood of finding survivors has been drastically reduced, that estimate has at least doubled or tripled. Likewise, the confirmed North American victims have increased in number since Saturday night. Finally, I mention volunteer Jean Arnwine of Dallas, TX and Rev. Sam Dixon, head of the United Methodist Committee on Relief, having lost their lives. They were joined on Sunday by Rev. Clinton Rabb, leader of the United Methodist Church’s volunteer programing, who was in the same hotel as Rev. Dixon, meeting to discuss health care in Haiti. Rev. Rabb was rescued from the rubble on Friday, but passed away Sunday as a result of his injuries.

Connection

It’s a big word in the United Methodist lexicon: connection.

We believe that our connection (or as we like to say, connectionalism) makes us stronger, helps us do together what one person, or church, or regional body could never do alone. Making decisions as a global body is a pain in the butt, and doesn’t always (or perhaps even often) result in the greatest ministry and justice for all people. But actually doing that ministry together, actually working for justice and health and blessing in a connectional system, that is when we shine.

Oh, just go read this. Jay Voorhees says it much better than I do.

Being connected also means that we have contacts all over the world, and through them and the way we are touched by them, we are broken open by tragedy, we experience it not as someone else’s loss, but as our own. We are more aware of our one-ness as a human family.

Several of my colleagues have sister-church partnerships with churches in Haiti, and have been receiving updates about losses and survivors. Our denomination as a whole mourns the loss of three brave souls: volunteer Jean Arnwine of the Highland Park UMC, Dallas TX’s mission team, who died of injuries she sustained in the collapse of the Petite Guave Eye Clinic– a woman who is being remembered especially today as her loved ones gather for her memorial service; The Reverend Sam Dixon, leader of the United Methodist Committee on Relief and The Reverend Clinton Rabb, director of the UMC’s mission programing, who died last Saturday and Sunday, respectively, resulting from the collapse of the hotel where they and other relief agency leaders were meeting to plan ways to improve access to health care in Haiti. Their stories personalize the almost numbing tales of injury and death still pouring from Haiti as aftershocks and the passage of time make rescue of further survivors all but impossible.

Being connected, in any case, means we can do more, surely. But it also means that we sometimes have to feel more because we can’t ignore our relationship to one another. And feeling more hurts. It hurts a lot, sometimes. But it keeps us human, and so that makes it worth it.

Things that don’t help

For the record, when it comes to massive disasters, it does not help to blame the victims or to insist that this so-called “act of God” (why in the world would we call disasters that?!?) is somehow justified.

I’m disgusted by and feel sorry for individuals whose understandings of God are so limited that they have to twist around other people’s suffering into some sort of divine retribution. Pat Robertson (who claimed that the earthquake and the poverty in Haiti happened because Haitians ‘made a pact with the devil’) and his ilk articulate a kind of faith that to me is so immature and inapplicable that it’s simultaneously pitiable and dangerous. Pitiable because the theories they espouse reflect a brokenness in them and a belief in a nasty monster of a God, and dangerous because sometimes they have microphones and TV cameras and seem to forget the awesome and daunting responsibility that comes with trying to claim to speak the Word of God to any audience, and falling back instead on own our words, our own fears, our own limitations.

Fellow United Methodist blogger Erik Folkerth wrote a very good post on the subject yesterday, and Don Miller of Relevant Magazine offered words of rebuke and compassion as well. Wise folks, who challenge me to be gentle and loving in the face of those who are often anything but.

Prayers and Relief for Haiti

In the wake of the devastating earthquake in Haiti, I’m reminded yet again that natural disasters, while no respecter of persons, fall disproportionally upon the poor. Part of the reason that the quake’s effects were so horrifying was that the buildings were already so poorly put together. Unstable structures, even hospitals, schools, and prisons, unable to withstand smaller tremors in the earth’s crust, stood no chance against the 7.0 magnitude quake. Relief efforts are bogged down, costing precious time and therefore lives, due to already-crumbling infrastructure and lack of resources to get help to the places it is needed.

We can’t stop natural disasters from happening. But perhaps one day we’ll be better at helping all people prepare for them, by assuring that structures are safer and means of communication and transportation are in place. Yes, this will mean that wealthier nations have to help places stripped bare by poverty build safe and effective buildings and roads. Money well spent.

At the same time, I remain proud of my denomination, The United Methodist Church. I was not Methodist growing up, but Catholic. When I went ’shopping’ for a denomination where I could live out my call to ministry, I chose the UMC intentionally, despite its inevitable faults, because of a few theological principles (prevenient grace, reverence for the Lord’s Supper, sanctification described as a journey toward perfection), and because of the church’s approach to mission. In The United Methodist Church, mission teams are trained to work with people in their native countries without seeking to evangelize or convert anyone to Christianity or Methodism. Although certainly, if someone asks, a volunteer may share why he or she feels moved to help. Volunteers and staff are trained to offer aid in ways that go beyond charity or hand outs, but work side by side with others, empowering individuals and communities to build sustainability. We’d much rather teach people to fish than buy a basket of fish, give cows and chickens rather than donate milk and eggs. We’re in it for the long haul, because we believe that all God’s children deserve the opportunity and ability to live free and joy-filled lived, with food, clothing, shelter, and sanitation.

For this reason, The United Methodist Church has been connected with the nation of Haiti for many years, with many churches and conferences sending teams down on mission trips to build and sustain communities alongside their Haitian hosts. The United Methodist Committee on Relief (UMCOR) established a field office in Haiti half a dozen years ago, and has been working on the ground in that country for quite some time. At the time of the quake, six North American United Methodist volunteer teams were in Haiti, and reports from them and from the staff and volunteers at UMCOR were slow to trickle in. These folks were and are on the front lines, some of them relief workers now, some of them missing or recently rescued themselves. Their courage is astounding, and my heart and my prayers go out to them.

And that’s not all. Because local United Methodist congregations pay apportionments or mission shares (a kind of proportional financial commitment to their larger regional organization and the global church), all of the administrative costs for UMCOR and other relief efforts are paid for by the people of The United Methodist Church. This means that when a disaster like this happens, and people donate money through the UMC or UMCOR, 100% of that money goes directly to relief efforts on the ground. No administrative costs, no salaries for the people organizing the work. All of the money can go to supplies and distribution, getting personnel and resources to where they need to be quickly and effectively, through the global network of Methodists and the people already in place in Haiti. I am not aware of many other organizations that can say that– organizations well connected and already in place, that can give 100 pennies from every dollar to the stated need.

If you want to make a financial gift to the relief efforts following the Haiti disaster, you can give online through the United Methodist Committee on Relief and know that 100% of your contribution will go to the designated relief effort. You can also make a donation by check through any local United Methodist Church (find one near you) and designate Haiti Emergency, UMCOR Advance #418325 on your check or envelope. Also ask at your local church if they will be collecting health kits, inexpensive hands-on ways to gather and ship basic supplies to Haiti. You can learn about other ways The United Methodist Church is helping out online at www.umc.org.

This is what my church does best: show our belief in God and in the beauty of humanity by living in love and service with those in greatest need. There’s much we don’t get right a lot of the time– we are a human organization, but when it comes to the selfless love of others and fearless help for those in need, I’m proud to be part of a body so generous, fearless, and loving.

delays

Sorry about that folks. Christmas season crunch combined with first trimester lack of energy left me with not time or energy for uploading stuff, let alone blogging. Hopefully we’re back on the right track now! And I missed the Epiphany sermon because my recording equipment wasn’t set up that day. Anywho, thanks for your patience!

Sermon: My Beloved Child

“My Beloved Child”

(January 10, 2010) Baptism is about many things: a calling from God, a commitment to a way of life and service, but first and foremost, a claiming. Baptism is a time when God claims us as children– or more to the point, when it is revealed to us that God has always claimed us as children. As we ‘remember our baptism,’ we do not call to mind a day or a ceremony, but a promise, an eternal truth: that just as surely and deeply s God loves and claims Jesus, God loves and claims each of us as children. (Luke 3:15-17, 21-22) [closing prayer section has been abbreviated].

Sermon: Lost and Found

“Lost and Found”

(December 27, 2009) Jesus gives his parents a scare when he goes missing, and they travel a day down the road before realizing he isn’t with them. How far afield do we get before we realize we’ve wandered away from Christ? Are we ready to rush back to find him in God’s house or wherever we may have left him? (Luke 2:41-52)

Sermon: Tidings of Great Joy

“Tidings of Great Joy”

(December 24, 2009) In a world addicted to bad news, the Christmas message is a powerful counter-cultural argument: that there is in fact good news for all people. As the imagined chorus of angels, we are freed to proclaim this good news far and wide. Christmas Eve 2009 (Luke 2:1-20).

Sermon: Tidings for the Downtrodden

“Tidings for the Downtrodden”

(December 20, 2009) On Christmas we don’t celebrate only how Jesus was born, but who he was and is, and for that we can get no better source than his own mother. In the passage known as the Magnificat, Mary describe what Jesus means to her, an unwed peasant girl: salvation, deliverance, and good news for the poor and the lowly. If we are to celebrate Jesus, then, we must hear his coming as a call to action for us, to bring good news to the most poor and needy in our communities and in our world. I suggest that for our community in Central Vermont, this might be the time for a call to action around housing and shelter for those who are without such, but challenge you to find the greatest need wherever you are, that Christmas might truly come for everyone alive. (Luke 1:46-55)