Let Righteousness Flow. June 18, 2017.
You remember when you were a kid, and someone had the nerve to teach you a sharing lesson? Usually the sharing lessons aren't so bad, like, "Look Johnny, Stevie forgot his lunch today, do you think we could help him out?" And Johnny, looking at his bountiful lunch box teeming with lunch-y flavors--PBJ, goldfish crackers, carrot sticks, and cosmic brownies for dessert--is willing to part with the carrot sticks, and maybe even the goldfish crackers so that Stevie can have something to eat. Not bad. The one with bounty shares out of his bounty so that both parties are OK.
But then there's the less readily accepted lessons. "Here Susan, here's your slice of blueberry pie! I know it's your favorite!" Susan is genuinely excited for said pie. With wide eyes, she readies her fork to encroach upon the weave-patterned top crust. The front door opens, though, and in walks Uncle Jimmy, late as usual...there's always some problems going on at home. Says mother, "Why hello Uncle Jimmy! Come on in and have a seat! Now Susan, would you mind giving your blueberry pie to Uncle Jimmy?" (Inwardly Susan says, "Are you @$(%&* serious? That was the last piece and there's none left!)
These sharing moments are more rare, because they don't make sense. They're so extremely unjust that they make kind people like Susan frustrated, to the point that almost no one would ask Susan to do something like that. If Uncle Jimmy's gonna get some pie, it's gonna be because out of Susan's own volition (not her mother's absurd suggestion) she wants to give her pie to Uncle J.
It's much more difficult and costly to share when the sharing leaves the sharer without. And it gets more complicated for us when it's not blueberry pie but its a car, a room in our house, our time, a couch, etc. Like, really, who's gonna let some family in need just keep your car and leave you without one?
We just finished up 6 community learning classes Friday, and at the end those who came to at least 4 got to go home with an EcoFiltro (you just dump bad water in and out comes good water. They're fabulous). The classes went great. Those in attendance were crowded 30+ into a tiny room, it got hot, the plastic stools were less than comfortable, but they were super attentive, took notes, and asked questions. The only issue was that the pastor of the church whose space we were borrowing didn't like that there were so many people there whom he had no idea who they were or what motives they had in the church...but that's another point. Anyway, I was looking forward to and also fearing the distribution of the 58 filters we were able to give to the "graduates." You know how distribution can get messy. People manipulate. People cheat. People push and shove and cut in line. Yeah, not pretty.
We gave 3 identical sessions on "How to Use and Clean Your EcoFiltro" yesterday. After session 2, Tita took her filter home and asked me to come visit her neighbors. "The wife and husband both work and couldn't come to the classes, but they don't have running water in their home, got 3 kids, cook with firewood...I don't know if there's going to be extra filters but they could really use one." "Alright, we'll see what happens, thanks for introducing us!" I say after leaving Guadalupe's cement-tin living space. I invite her to the last "How To Use Your EcoFiltro" class just in case there's an extra.
In the 3rd session, everyone who had earned their filter came. We finished the distribution (super smooth!), and I told Guadalupe, "Well, sorry, there's no extras. Your neighbors sure think a lot of you, at least now you know how to use the EcoFiltro and maybe in the future we can collaborate to find something for you guys."
"I'll give her mine," says Aida. Aida who, between her and her daughter, had helped me incredibly with all the signing people in and getting them their folders and materials at every class we gave...13 in total. "Yup, I'll give her mine. God's blessed me so we get to bless others." So matter of fact.
Aida lives down below the park in the barranco (ravine). That's where the poorer folks of Bethania live. She's a single mom. She goes to the market in the morning, and then in the afternoon sells little bags of cucumber with lime, cut up mango, carrots, and other little snacks outside the school.
Righteousness, in Hebrew, is "tzedekah." It means, in a community, that everyone is entitled to having their basic needs met. And God commissions his people to bring that righteousness and justice to the nations, to show them who God is and what he's about. Over and over again, "Be a people of righteousness and justice!"
Let justice roll on like a river, and righteousness like a never-failing stream. Let righteousness flow like a purified water from a clay filter in a plastic bucket as far as I'm concerned! I am so joyful to have born witness to the unprompted, unexpected righteousness of Aida yesterday. That sharing that really cost her something came from her own volition, from the own goodness that God has brewed in her heart amidst all the reasons she has to be bitter. I'm so glad that the gift of filters could become a vehicle of grace, not the cause of manipulation or lying or cheating. It makes me love the kingdom of God, and yearn for it more, to see more and more rivers of righteousness.
"Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents. Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out other their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything--all she had to live on." Mark 12:41-44
Thanks for journeying with us. Ya'll are the best. Try sharing something that costs you.
-AJ and Alaina
thewestys.weebly.com
guatemala.team.org
But then there's the less readily accepted lessons. "Here Susan, here's your slice of blueberry pie! I know it's your favorite!" Susan is genuinely excited for said pie. With wide eyes, she readies her fork to encroach upon the weave-patterned top crust. The front door opens, though, and in walks Uncle Jimmy, late as usual...there's always some problems going on at home. Says mother, "Why hello Uncle Jimmy! Come on in and have a seat! Now Susan, would you mind giving your blueberry pie to Uncle Jimmy?" (Inwardly Susan says, "Are you @$(%&* serious? That was the last piece and there's none left!)
These sharing moments are more rare, because they don't make sense. They're so extremely unjust that they make kind people like Susan frustrated, to the point that almost no one would ask Susan to do something like that. If Uncle Jimmy's gonna get some pie, it's gonna be because out of Susan's own volition (not her mother's absurd suggestion) she wants to give her pie to Uncle J.
It's much more difficult and costly to share when the sharing leaves the sharer without. And it gets more complicated for us when it's not blueberry pie but its a car, a room in our house, our time, a couch, etc. Like, really, who's gonna let some family in need just keep your car and leave you without one?
We just finished up 6 community learning classes Friday, and at the end those who came to at least 4 got to go home with an EcoFiltro (you just dump bad water in and out comes good water. They're fabulous). The classes went great. Those in attendance were crowded 30+ into a tiny room, it got hot, the plastic stools were less than comfortable, but they were super attentive, took notes, and asked questions. The only issue was that the pastor of the church whose space we were borrowing didn't like that there were so many people there whom he had no idea who they were or what motives they had in the church...but that's another point. Anyway, I was looking forward to and also fearing the distribution of the 58 filters we were able to give to the "graduates." You know how distribution can get messy. People manipulate. People cheat. People push and shove and cut in line. Yeah, not pretty.
We gave 3 identical sessions on "How to Use and Clean Your EcoFiltro" yesterday. After session 2, Tita took her filter home and asked me to come visit her neighbors. "The wife and husband both work and couldn't come to the classes, but they don't have running water in their home, got 3 kids, cook with firewood...I don't know if there's going to be extra filters but they could really use one." "Alright, we'll see what happens, thanks for introducing us!" I say after leaving Guadalupe's cement-tin living space. I invite her to the last "How To Use Your EcoFiltro" class just in case there's an extra.
In the 3rd session, everyone who had earned their filter came. We finished the distribution (super smooth!), and I told Guadalupe, "Well, sorry, there's no extras. Your neighbors sure think a lot of you, at least now you know how to use the EcoFiltro and maybe in the future we can collaborate to find something for you guys."
"I'll give her mine," says Aida. Aida who, between her and her daughter, had helped me incredibly with all the signing people in and getting them their folders and materials at every class we gave...13 in total. "Yup, I'll give her mine. God's blessed me so we get to bless others." So matter of fact.
Aida lives down below the park in the barranco (ravine). That's where the poorer folks of Bethania live. She's a single mom. She goes to the market in the morning, and then in the afternoon sells little bags of cucumber with lime, cut up mango, carrots, and other little snacks outside the school.
Righteousness, in Hebrew, is "tzedekah." It means, in a community, that everyone is entitled to having their basic needs met. And God commissions his people to bring that righteousness and justice to the nations, to show them who God is and what he's about. Over and over again, "Be a people of righteousness and justice!"
Let justice roll on like a river, and righteousness like a never-failing stream. Let righteousness flow like a purified water from a clay filter in a plastic bucket as far as I'm concerned! I am so joyful to have born witness to the unprompted, unexpected righteousness of Aida yesterday. That sharing that really cost her something came from her own volition, from the own goodness that God has brewed in her heart amidst all the reasons she has to be bitter. I'm so glad that the gift of filters could become a vehicle of grace, not the cause of manipulation or lying or cheating. It makes me love the kingdom of God, and yearn for it more, to see more and more rivers of righteousness.
"Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents. Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out other their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything--all she had to live on." Mark 12:41-44
Thanks for journeying with us. Ya'll are the best. Try sharing something that costs you.
-AJ and Alaina
thewestys.weebly.com
guatemala.team.org