Save Darfur
For those who weren’t at High School Basecamp this morning, we spent the morning talking about the genocide in Darfur that is occuring at this very moment. Some of us had no idea what is happening to men, women, and children across the Atlantic Ocean. Some of us had heard the word "Darfur" in the news here and there but didn’t stop to find out more.
This morning, through video and stories, we were introduced to the horrible and inhumane crimes that are being committed in Sudan. Rapes, murders, genocide, displacement. Over 400,000 murdered since 2004.
We felt bad. Our hearts went out to them. We were reminded this morning in the Luke 10 text that the Good Samaritan’s heart went out to the beaten and bloodied man on the road to Jericho. But the text doesn’t end there. It begins there. A heart broken and compassionate for those that suffer, those that are hurt, those that are marginalized, those that are oppressed. That is a beginning but not the end.
It begins with a heart movement and quickly transforms into physical movement. Action. Steps of caring, intervention, justice, love. Its not enough to feel bad. Feeling bad doesn’t help the orphaned child in the refugee camp in the neighboring country of Chad who faces life without family, without a home, without hope. Our tears don’t quench their thirst. Pity has never fed a hungry man’s appetite for food and for hope.
I’m invited you this morning and I’m inviting you now to join me in making a change with God’s help. I’m convicted. I’m saddened by my own failure to take action. I’m sick to see myself in the religious leaders that passed by the beaten man along the road. But I realize this . . . its not about how I feel. It’s not about how I feel bad or guilty about my failures. It’s not about feeling good when I take action. It’s not about me at all.
It’s about God. It’s about the God I love. It’s about what is right. It’s about seeing the beautiful people in the Sudan, in Iraq, in our prisons, in our schools, in our projects, in our family, and in the mirror the way that God sees us. We are one. We are community. We are connected. We are the created. We are family. When one hurts, we all hurt. When one grieves, we all grieve. Christ looks down from the cross and says to each of us, "This is your brother and this is your sister."
Let’s act like family. A real family. A functional family that laughs and weeps together. A family that pulls together under the leadership and love of our Parent.
I want to do more than feel bad. Father God – please help me have the courage to be the sister that you’ve taught me to be in our family.