Stories from Africa

Genocide and Hope

2008-10-08T07:16:00.000-07:00

Here's a little video reflection on our time in Rwanda

A Word from Shane...

2008-09-23T20:55:00.000-07:00

This is the last blog entry for these particular stories from Africa. For two weeks Shane Claiborne and Chris Lahr spent time learning from some incredible folks in Rwanda and South Africa. These stories are an attempt to put into words much of what we learned in this whirlwind of a trip. We hope that these stories are inspiring and yet only the beginning of a life-long relationship with our brothers and sisters in Africa.

Now a reflection from Shane...

It was our first trip to Africa.

We did a little talking and a lot of listening.
We saw humanity at its worst… and at its best.

As you will see here, the racism of Apartheid has much to teach us about the evils we are capable of, the dangers of racism, colonialism and power. Much of the evils done in Africa’s history were done by Bible-carrying Christians. As one African proverb goes: “When the white man came, he had the Bible and we had the land. Now we have the Bible, and he has the land.” Many of the evils in Africa’s history were baptized in religious rhetoric, teaching us a truth we can see even today – bad theology gets people killed. And yet we saw a God who is able to survive the embarrassing, even sickening, things humans have done in God’s name. We saw Africans meeting in tents, and fields worshipping Jesus. As one brother told us, the mere survival of Christianity among the indigenous people of Africa, despite all that colonial Christians did to them, is itself a testimony to the Spirit of God. We saw Africans rejecting the health and wealth, self-centered, blessing-obsessed prosperity Gospel of the West, as tempting as it is… and clinging to the sacrificial, uncomfortable, risky scandalous grace-filled Gospel of our Lover Jesus, the Savior of refugees.

We stayed in an incredible community in South Africa called Hands of Compassion, started by black and white South Africans in the middle of Apartheid, when it was illegal for them to own land and live together. Now they’ve adopted all kinds of beautiful kids without parents and provided a home and family for dozens of folks recovering from addictions and homelessness. It was a big and beautiful family.

We spent time in Rwanda, the land that saw one of the greatest tragedies in human history -- a genocide that left over one million people dead in only 100 days. Just to put it in perspective: for three months there were over 300 people being killed every minute, 10,000 a day for 100 days straight in a country the size of the state of Maryland. And it was not with bombs and tanks or modern technology but with machetes sticks. Men infected with HIV were sent out as weapons of genocide raping women and children and infecting them with the terminal illness – evil, demonic, a society gone crazy.
You could feel the blood cry out from the land. Perhaps the cry goes all the way back to the first murder in human history, where Cain killed his own brother Abel and God said: "What have you done? Listen! Your brother's blood cries out to me from the ground.” (Genesis 4:10)

How did it happen? We are all responsible. The colonialists in Europe helped to create and reinforce the artificial tribal identities that brewed for decades and erupted in bloodshed. It was a complete failure of the global family. The United States and the UN squabbled over the cost of what it would cost to send in peacekeepers and simple vehicles to interrupt the kids who were killing with machetes and farm tools – politicians were fighting over lose change as lives were lost minute by minute. And, perhaps worst of all – it was a total failure of the Church. At the time of the genocide Rwanda was nearly 90% Christian. Rather than order Christians to destroy the artificial tribal boundaries of Hutu and Tutsi and burn their ID cards years before the genocide, many of the pastors and religious leaders sat silent or even carried guns on under their vestments, “pistol pastors” as some became known. We saw the bad we are capable of.

And yet the story of our faith is that life is more powerful than death, love triumphs over hatred – even after torture and execution, there is a resurrection. After Good Friday, comes Easter Sunday. In Africa we saw goodness. We heard stories of courageous heroes and sheroes who created an underground railroad during the genocide. We met people who looked into the eyes of killers and said, “You are better than than the worst things you have done.” We met mothers who lost their husbands and were raising 15 kids, half of whom were not their own but were some of the 2 million orphans of the genocide. We met elderly women who survived the genocide but lost their families, and yet who felt the freedom of forgiveness so deeply that they adopted some of the young men who killed their own loved ones, so that these kids might taste the goodness of God’s grace – stubborn, resilient, contagious grace. We heard of courageous Christians who challenged the pistol priests, saying “why do you carry a gun rather than the Bible?”

We heard a story that should teach us all. A classroom of young kids was raided by the militia during the genocide. The armed men ordered the kids to divide up into tribes, with the Hutus on one side of the classroom and the Tutsi’s on the other, no doubt preparing to mercilessly slaughter the Tutsi’s. But there was an interruption. The kids stood together in unison and said, “We do not have Hutus and Tutsi’s – we only have Christians.” This is what it means to move beyond the myopic, narrow, dangerous boundaries of tribalism. This is what it means to be born again, the truth of what it means to have an identity that runs deeper than race, tribe, or nation. Our friends Stanley Hauerwas and Will Willimon talk about tribalism in their book “Resident Aliens” – as they speak to the accusation that Christianity creates a tribal, warring religion. “

We reject the charge of tribalism, particularly from those whose theologies serve to buttress the most nefarious brand of tribalism of all – the omnipotent state. The church is the one political entitiy in our culture that is global, transnational, transcultural. Tribalism is not the church determined to serve God rather than Caesar. Tribalism is the usa which sets up artificial boundaries and defends them with murderous intensity. And the tribalism of nations occurs most viciously in the absence of a church able to say and to show in its life together that God not nations rules the world.”

We learned a word in Africa that is often on our lips thesedays: “ubuntu”. There is not a very adequate English translation, but African Archbishop Desmond Tutu describes it like this:
“Africans have this thing called UBUNTU.It is about the essence of being human, it is part of the gift that Africa will give the world. It embraces hospitality, caring about others, being able to go the extra mile for the sake of others. We believe that a person is a person through another person, that my humanity is caught up, bound up, inextricably, with with yours. When I dehumanise you, I inexorably dehumanise myself. The solitary human being is a contradiction in terms and therefore you seek to work for the common good because your humanity comes into its own in belonging”.
Perhaps ubuntu explains why the genocide memorials were marked with those words: “If you had known me, you would not have killed me.” Christ has felt the suffering of Rwanda. May we learn from the blood, the tears, and the smiles of Africa.

RIP Granny

2008-09-16T09:05:00.000-07:00

To end this blog (or to start it if you like to read newest blog entries first), I wanted to give a tribute to my Granny...

One of the hardest parts of the trip for me, was that my Granny died. I was close to my Granny and always looked forward to our times together when I visited Indiana. People ask me if it was all of a sudden... not really, it took about 91 years. I was able to spend time with her not too long before she passed. Though she was ready to go, I was very sad not to be there, especially since she wanted me to share at her funeral. Knowing there was a chance she would pass I wrote the following (feel free to skip this if you want to move on to the African Stories)...

It is my deepest regret that I cannot be with you at this time. I had every intention of sharing with you face to face some of the memories and values that I hold dear today as a result of knowing Granny. I miss her deeply, but I rest assured that she is in a much better place than any of us are right now. She can finally see again, and believe me, the mush in Heaven taste even better than the mush at the Country Post (and yes the mush at the Country Post is very good).

Living in Philadelphia, several hours away from family, I have come to realize the blessing it was to live in the same town as my grandma (and grandpa). (What I wouldn’t do to be able to drop my kids off at their grandparents every week J.) My earliest memory of granny was being babysat on a daily basis. Just before she died she recalled how watching Casey and I was like watching two perfect little angels, so meek and mild. Its good to know that granny left this earth with a good mind J. Ok, so maybe I am stretching the truth a tad, but she did say she appreciated the time she had watching us. Personally I loved going to granny’s. It was the only place we could go and not really get into trouble! We would start fighting and grandpa would simply say “Judas Priest” or “What in the Sam Hill,” and granny would find us something to eat to quiet us down! Man, those were the days!

I remember the many hours that we would sit around and watch baseball games (trying to get granny to sing along with Harry Cary during the 7th inning stretch). We would also watch Sanford and Son, All in the Family (aka. Archie Bunker’s Place), and my personal favorite… Benny Hill. It’s sad that they just don’t make tv shows like they used to. Judas Priest.

I remember the many times Casey and I would go out back and play baseball in the yard. Shoot, I even remember playing against grandma and grandpa in the early days. But even as they got too old to keep up with us on the field, they were almost always there for our countless games that we had year after year at the PAL club.

One of my favorite memories took place on April Fools day. Casey and I arrived at granny’s early that morning before school with tons of bandages, wraps, slings, etc draped over our bodies. We looked pathetic and had the story to match it. We informed her that we were in a terrible bike accident the night before and were hurt so bad that we even had to go to the hospital (you could say I was gifted with the ability to tell some good lies) J. We had granny believing it so much that she began to shed a tear. As she walked back into the kitchen to grab our co-co and graham crackers (food that can bring great healing by the way), we quickly removed the bandages and placed them on the table. As granny came back into the room we started laughing uncontrollably. She had totally believed us, and then began to laugh. Grandpa on the other hand simply replied, “Judas Priest.” Grandpa always had a way with words and knew what needed to be said and when.

Some other memories that I will forever hold are the grandma meals we would have on Sundays>> Kentucky Fried Chicken, mash potatoes, green bean casserole, scotcharoos, etc. I also remember the old golden Christmas tree that they had in their front parlor at 920 Salamonie Ave. Even as a kid I wondered why in the world anyone would want a golden Christmas tree. I never had the guts to ask. I could only imagine that it was granny’s idea and grandpa’s only response was (everyone together now…) “Judas Priest.” I also remember located in the same front parlor was a drawer full of rubber bands that grandma and grandpa used to call “rubbers.” For some reason I always thought that was hilarious.

Another fond memory happened in more recent times. As many of you know, granny’s eyesight has been getting worse over the past few years. I remember about a decade ago granny had to have eye-surgery to remove some cataracts. As the family was winding down a fine family reunion at mom and dads, granny asked the fam to gather around the tv for a very important viewing. Yes, that’s right… granny had her eye-surgery on video and wanted nothing more in life at that moment than to share it with the rest of us. I think I was the only member of the family to sit through the whole thing. Granny was amazed at the technology of it all, the rest of the family was quite grossed out, but I thought it was hilarious! Granny saw that I enjoyed it so much, she actually gave the precious tape to me! Later that summer I was speaking at a youth camp. During the evening the camp gathered together for some games, etc. I noticed they had a video set-up and told the guy in charge of the games that I had a very “youth appropriate video.” I introduced the video in a very monotone voice explaining it was a “special” video that my grandma wanted to share with the family and that I now wanted to share with the group. The first night the crowd was a bit grossed out, maybe a little shocked that a HUGE eyeball was undergoing surgery and they were forced to watch. Did I mention that it was only the first night? That’s right, I introduced the video in the exact same way, using the exact same monotone voice each night of the week. But each night we played different music to the video and it turned into a much anticipated dance party (the first of its kind on a Nazarene Camp Ground). Finally the last night, before I gave the final sermon, I told everyone there that I had a special guest to introduce… that’s right, my granny! She was nothing short of a celebrity that night. Kids came from all over the place to hug her and I think there may have even been a couple autographs given! Granny, I loved her since of humor. A few years ago I asked her if I could play a portion of the video at this funeral and tell you all that she still had her eye on us. Though she laughed, she didn’t think it would be appropriate J.

Above all these things, my fondest memories have taken place over these past several years. Whenever I come back into town, Granny and I would go to the Country Post and get Fried Mush. Shoot, we’ve gone so much the waitresses there call us “the mush people!” These have been very special times for me. These were times for us to get caught up, to talk about the good ol days, and yes, time for me to try and convince her that she was not too old to try and start driving. We had plenty of laughs, and the next time I step into the Country Post there will be a big void, and I will miss her deeply. I am glad to announce though, that my kids love going there as well! From this day forward, we will continue to go to the Country Post, eat mush and talk about “the good ol’ days.” Though granny’s body may have passed away, the memories I have of her and the values she has bestowed on me will be passed to the next generation.

Here are some of the values that I have obtained from granny and will pass on to my children…

1) Stay close to Jesus. This is the reason we live. Granny thought it was crazy that she lived to be 91>> she told me on more than one occasion that no one should live to be 91. I tried to convince her that it would be the coolest thing to make it to a 100>> she called me crazy. She was at peace with dying because she was a peace with Jesus. She loved him and desired for all of her offspring to follow him, serving him in all that they do. Even as a child, she would share Bible stories with us and she would pray for us, thus helping lay a foundation that strangely enough does not allow me to be here today (I am in Germany and in Africa).

2) From saving money to giving it away. I remember as a child always hearing granny tell us to save our money and not spend it foolishly. I’m still not sure if purchasing Michael Jackson’s first album with Casey was foolish or wise, but we sure enjoyed it back in the day J. Over the last several years it seems to me that granny began to tell me a different message about money>> it’s meant to be given away! As granny got older she began to have a more realistic view of money and possession and realized that she cannot take anything with her, thus she might as well give stuff away. Granny was very generous, to the point it was comical at times. I remember one time she had some extra Tylenol so she gave them to me. I was very grateful for them. Little did I know that I would not need to by Tylenol for the next 15 years! Not only would she get me Tylenol, she would take the time to count out the pills making sure I knew how much I got! I loved that stuff about granny! By the way, does anyone know how much I will have to start paying for Tylenol?

3) Family is important! In this world there are a lot of messed up families. Though no family is perfect, I am very fortunate to be a part of this family. I am grateful that there was no divorce, or abuse. I am glad to have had a granny that loved her kids and grand kids with everything she had. I am also grateful to Dorothy, Gene and dad and how they cared for granny all of these years, thank you for doing small things with great love.

Finally I want to leave you with this… In her last days, granny was a bit frustrated because she could no longer see well, and that “things were going dim.” I encouraged her that she was just like Isaac and Jacob who also went blind in their old age (Gen 27:1; 48:10). I also said that no matter how old someone gets, they still have a purpose until the day they die. She seemed encouraged. We then talked about what the next thing she will see is going to be…

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared. And the sea was also gone. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever. And the one sitting on the throne said, “look, I am making everything new!” And then he said to me, “Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.” And he also said, “It is finished! I am the Alpha and the Omega—the Beginning and the End. To all who are thirsty I will give freely from the springs of the water of life. All who are victorious will inherit all these blessings, and I will be their God, and they will be my children.”
Revelation 21:1-7

Written by chris lahr

Throw your dag gum weapons into the sea!

2008-09-16T08:52:00.000-07:00

This was one of the highlights of the museum... a case full of broken down weapons! Nelson Mandela told people to throw their weapons into the sea! In the ten years following Mandela's call, many tons of arms and ammunition have been melted down, crushed or made unusable

Voting for Justice

2008-09-16T08:45:00.000-07:00

Apartheid ended 1991. 1994 they held their first "free election." Nelson Mandela won! This pic is one of the lines people had to stand in to vote on that memorial day (you thought standing in line at Disney World was long!). We were told that the day was filled with anxiety, as people wondered if violence would erupt somewhere. It did not.

Lies

2008-09-16T08:38:00.000-07:00

Many people were not only incarcerated during apartheid, but they were murdered. This was a list of the people who died while incarcerated. While I was reading through it, Xana came up to me and said, "Lies, it is all lies." The police made up excuses why people died (ie. accidental fall from 10th floor!). They were all murdered.

Cry Freedom

2008-09-16T08:32:00.000-07:00

Steven Biko was a hero to many people. During Apartheid he was a voice for the voiceless. In a system that said you were less than human for being black, he taught black consciousness>> that its more than ok to be black. All humanity should have the same rights. There is a powerful movie that all should see called, "Cry Freedom." Here is a trailer for it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lDoWLcF8AOI

Alan and Xana told us that this movie was shown in the thick of Apartheid. They were surprised that it actually made it into the theaters. They went, watched and upon leaving the theater they were confronted with many police officers who came to confiscate the film. Though no one was arrested that time, the movie was banned.

This is a video by Peter Gabriel, singing "Biko." They had this video playing over and over in the museum.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XNQuJm67OzE

Many Died During Apartheid

2008-09-16T08:20:00.000-07:00

Apartheid

2008-09-16T08:12:00.000-07:00

On 08/08/08 Shane and I had yet another heavy day. At this point in the journey we had visited the Holocaust museum in Berlin and three separate genocide sites in Rwanda, now it was time to learn a little about Apartheid.

Apartheid was the system of segregation and discrimination based on the grounds of race in South Africa from 1948- 1991. I'm a bit embarrassed at how little I knew about Apartheid. This unjust system was going on during my high school years (class of 91 baby! Side note... I am still a little bitter that they selected Rod Stewart's "Forever Young" as our class song. I thought the song was lame even back then). It's interesting how the internet has changed things. During high school (and college for that matter) I had not even heard of the internet. I must also admit that I really did not have a concern for matters taking place in other parts of the world (though I couldn't help follow the fall of Communism). Though I wonder if things have really changed that much? So we have the internet and all the information in the world, but have we started caring?

The sign that greeted us on our way into the museum stated,
"To be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others." -Nelson Mandela

During our visit to the museum, we took a lunch break to visit Soweto (and eat cow head!). Soweto is a township (ghetto) with nearly 4 million people living in it. During Apartheid there was a significant riot in Soweto. During our short visit there we walked through a "hostile." This is very low-income housing within the township. During Apartheid only black men were allowed to live in hostiles. The living conditions were horrific for folks forced to live in these conditions. Today families are allowed to live together in them.

While we walked through the hostile, our guide said to us, "This is how liberated South Africans live." In many ways, Apartheid is over and chains have been cast off. But in other ways Apartheid is alive and well and people are still marginalized and suppressed. Townships can be very rough places to live, and yet only black people (and some coloured) live in them (in South Africa people are categorized as "black," "white," or "coloured" (meaning mixed race)).

I was amazed at the similarities between South Africa and America. They had Apartheid, we had Jim Crow laws. In South Africa white people live in nice housing while people of color are forced to live in townships. In America many people of color are trapped in the urban ghettos. In S.A. I met white people who thought there was no longer a race problem because Apartheid was over, in America I know many white people who think the same.

It really was a gift to stay with Xana and Alan at the Hands of Compassion community. They are true freedom fighters. Though the weapons they used were not guns or machetes, rather they fought with love. In the height of Apartheid they (being a white couple) moved into community with some people who were black. It was illegal, and potentially dangerous. They were harassed by their neighbors, but they did not give up! They modeled a different life. Today they are living in community with over 100 people, from many different backgrounds!

I will now post several pics from the museum...

A Day in the Trenches

2008-09-04T11:47:00.000-07:00

During one of our days in South Africa, we joined the folks of Hands of Compassion and Rhema church to build houses (and dig ditches). We partnered with a local organization that brings in large groups and does "blitzes" (build lots of houses farely quickly). A lot of people can get a lot of stuff done in a day. The group works in a township (ghetto) building houses for people they build relationships with. They gave us a lot of facts and figures that were pretty amazing, but I did not write them down, thus I cannot quote them to you.

The highlight of my day was hanging out with Vincent. He's about my age, lives at hands of Compassion and is a pastor in training. We talked at length about a variety of subjects: apartheid, racial justice in current South Africa, rites of passage, the Church, etc.

I was really intrigued talking with him about Rites of Passage. I did study on ROP back in Seminary and even created a project that I now do through Mission Year called PRoP (Pauper's Rite of Passage).

Think about this... When does one become an adult in our society? At the age of 12 one can no longer get the kids meals at the restaurant. At the age of 16 one can drive but they are not old enough to buy a lottery ticket. Once they turn 18 they can finally buy a lottery ticket, but they are not allowed to drink champagne to celebrate, if they win, until they are 21. Even when they are 21, they are still not allowed to rent a 15 passenger van at a car rental place. On top of that, think of all the 25 year olds still living at home with mom and dad! We created a thing in the west called adolescence! That strange gap where someone is not sure if they are a child or an adult. What we need is a rites of passage!

In South Africa, Vincent said that the boys (around the age of 18) would go into the mountains for the ROP. They would be there for about 4-6 weeks (sometime longer). During this time the elders of the village would come and talk to them about what it means to be a man. They would tell them the appropriate way to treat their wives, neighbors, and the poor among them. There are a lot of details and reasons for why they do what they do during a ROP, that I will not go into, but the point I want to make is that these boys come back as men. People in the village now treat them as men. I think our society would do well in empowering our youth with adulthood, rather than leaving them in a state of flux.
One of the reasons I created PRoP, was because I believe the Church is in a state of adolescence at best until she embraces God's heart for the poor. PRoP is not your typical weekend>> one is stripped of their comforts, and rather than serving the poor, they learn from them. It is powerful to see how the participants are challenged by "Lazarus" and are moved to live differently when they return home. For more info on it, just check the website.

Another encouraging discussion we had was about the Church. Vincent told me that many of the pastors in Rwanda dress really nice and seem to think of themselves as better than the "average" person. He told us that he was encouraged by our testimony and lives. Personally I was amazed to hear his stories and to share in his life. One thing I have noticed of this trip is that there is a move of God around the world! People are beginning to move the Church outside of four walls and into the streets, the townships, ghettos, and slums of our world. People are moving beyond personal salvation and seeing they are blessed in order to be a blessing. Vincent encouraged me, because he said our message was truly good news to the poor. I get the feeling that we are living in a very special time in the history of the Church. I am humbled to be a live and to see God at work and look forward to seeing what He does through simple ordinary radicals throughout the world.

As We Forgive...

2008-09-04T11:14:00.000-07:00

There's a movie that just came out that I am very eager to see. It is called "As We Forgive"
http://www.asweforgivemovie.com/

Here is a description about the movie:

"Could you forgive a person who murdered your family? This is the question faced by the subjects of As We Forgive, a documentary about Rosaria and Chantal—two Rwandan women coming face-to-face with the men who slaughtered their families during the 1994 genocide. The subjects of As We Forgive speak for a nation still wracked by the grief of a genocide that killed one in eight Rwandans in 1994. Overwhelmed by an enormous backlog of court cases, the government has returned over 50,000 thousand genocide perpetrators back to the very communities they helped to destroy. Without the hope of full justice, Rwanda has turned to a new solution: Reconciliation. But can it be done? Can survivors truly forgive the killers who destroyed their families? Can the government expect this from its people? And can the church, which failed at moral leadership during the genocide, fit into the process of reconciliation today?"

"In As We Forgive, director Laura Waters Hinson and narrator Mia Farrow explore these topics through the lives of four neighbors once caught in opposite tides of a genocidal bloodbath, and their extraordinary journey from death to life through forgiveness."

I have not seen the movie, but hope to soon. The first pic in this post is of a long line of folks who were perpetrators in the genocide, that are now doing "community service." The other two pics are of the main river that runs into Lake Victoria. We read on several occasions that this was where a majority of the bodies were dumped during the genocide.

Forgiveness is a powerful thing. I discovered a deeper level of forgiveness on this trip. To hear the stories from people that suffered the genocide and apartheid, and yet were able to embrace forgiveness is deep. A good book to check out is, Desmond Tutu's book, "No Future Without Forgiveness." In the book he describes some of the horror of apartheid, and yet a Reconciliation committee was established once apartheid ended. With the committee both victims and victimizers were heard. Amnesty was even given to those who admitted with details the horrors they committed. They moved from retributive justice to restorative justice. We all have a lot to learn from our African brothers and sisters for sure.

- chris lahr

Secret of Being Content... A Trip of Contrasts

2008-09-04T10:38:00.000-07:00

Philippians 4: 12-13"I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength"

This trip was truly a trip of contrast. On the way there we got "stuck" in Business class (for some reason it was cheaper than economy class because of Shane flying so much), on the way back I was "blessed" to be in the middle seat of the economy class with a rather large gentleman sitting next to me (other than Shane :) ).

When we tried to get back into South Africa from Rwanda, they would not let Shane back into the country because all of his passport pages had been stamped. His only solution... to walk to the embassy, or at least take a cab, and get pages added the next day! Because the flight was full the next night, we decided it best for me to go on ahead to South Africa (if Shane has time maybe he could share his Robi (Nairobi) experience). Me on the other hand, I thought I had a free day coming! Little did I know, they simply made me do all that Shane was supposed to do. Next thing I know I am on a live TV show for an hour being broadcast to 32 African countries! Immediately after the make-up and interview (I was with Alan and Xana of Hands of Compassion, who both love make-up :) ) we headed to the streets to hang with homeless folks (much more comfortable setting for me:) ).

While in Germany, we visited a large Youth Baptist convention with 1,000's of youth from all over the world, about midnight that same night we were hanging out at Freakstock (a Christian festival with a bunch of German Jesus freaks)!

We saw thousands of slabs of concrete in Berlin at the Memorial for the Jews who died during the Holocaust. A couple days later we saw thousands of handmade bricks used to build things and bring restoration to a new Rwanda.

We saw things that made us laugh (see the "signs" post) and we saw things that made us cry (see "genocide" post). He heard stories of demonic activity and hell, and we heard stories of miracles and angelic beings (see "Benjamin" post).

We worked in a Township (ghetto in South Africa) digging ditches and making houses, and we hung out at a beach watching waves and people surf.

We spokes to thousands, and we spoke to individuals. We prayed for people, and they prayed for us. All in all, this was truly a trip of contrasts.

Through all of this I realize one thing, there really is no such thing as rich and poor in the kingdom of God; rather we are all one family. We are all created in the image of God and He is madly in love with us all. Our value is not in what we own, in what we do, or in what people say about us; rather we are valuable because we are beloved sons and daughters of God.

-- chris lahr

If You Would Have Known Me, You Would Not Have Killed Me

2008-09-04T09:48:00.000-07:00

Just outside the Ntarama genocide site, where 5,000 people were killed inside a sanctuary, this banner (to the right) hangs. Translated the banner reads... "If you would have known me, you would not have killed me!"

Powerful banner, huh? I also took a picture of this beautiful plant that was also outside Ntarama, to me it is a sign of hope!

What's in a name? About a decade ago my wife and I were serving with the Missionaries of Charity at Kalighat, the home for the dying and destitute. Each day we would spend time with folks who were clinging to life on their death beds. Each morning we would feed them, bathe them, and spend time "hanging out" with them. Each day there would be someone who would die. Death puts a perspective on life.

One day there was a boy, about the age of 16 that was aprrarently starting to die. As he began to breath heavily, I stepped to the side and began praying for him. Believing in the power of prayer, I asked God to be with this child, to use his story to make a difference in the world. As I said the "amen," I looked up and the child was dead (I'm no Benny Hinn, you could say). A bit shocked, I went to the head nurse and asked her what the boy's name was. I will never forget the sterness on her face as she looked me square in the eyes and said, "You know as much about this child as I do." The child died without a name!

Feeling a bit overhwelmed we went back to our hostil and I came across the story of the rich man and Lazarus (Lk 19:16 ff.). In the story you have the rich man living in luxury, insulated from the cries of the poor at his front gate. Just outside the front gate sits Lazarus, a beggar. As fate would have it, they both died. What is interesting in the story though, is that it is the rich man who dies without a name (unless his name is "Rich," which doesn't make since in the context). The crazy irony of it all is that the rich man probably died without ever knowing the name of the beggar that sat at his front gate.

What's in a name? When Shane and I were speaking at the Seminary in Rwanda, I told this story. Afterwards someone asked what the big deal was if someone died without a name? I think there is a lot tied into the name of a person. To know a name is to humanize them. They are no longer "hey you," or some category of a person such as homeless, Hutu, Tutsi, American, etc. I do not believe that the rich man ended up in hell because he was rich. I think it was because he did not care! 1 John 3:17 ff tells us that if we have material possessions and see a brother or sister in need, and are not moved by compassion, how can the love of God be in us? I think the eternal destiny of the rich man would have been different if he simply would have cared. If he would have invited Lazarus to sit at his table, to share a meal (rather than him just eating the scraps out of the trash). Or maybe things would have been different if he would have went outside his front gate and spent time begging with Lazarus for a while. If the rich man would have taken the time to know him, to really know Lazarus, he would have had to care. How could he continue to insulate and isolate himself from his brother?

I think there is a lot in a name. "If you would have known me, you would not have killed me." What would have happened in Rwanda, if people would have known each other by name, rather than by Hutu or Tutsi?

Matthew 7:21-23 says, "Not everone who says to me Lord, Lord will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my father who in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, Lord, Lord did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles? Then I will tell them planly, I never knew you. "

I would say there is a lot in a name? I have often heard people ask the question, "Do you know Jesus?" Maybe the question we should ask is, "Does Jesus know you?"

-chris lahr

Blood on their hands: Benjamin's story

2008-09-04T07:45:00.000-07:00

On our way to one of the genocide sites, Benjamin told us his story. When the killings began in April of 1994, his wife was pregnant, and the baby decided it was time to come out! He told us he has a clearer understanding of what the Scriptures are talking about when it tells us to pray that the apocalypse won't occur during pregnancy! Having no choice they left for the hsopital. When they arrived at a road block (many of them were set up throughout Rwanda), rather than being harrassed and killed, they happened to know his wife. Seeing that she was giving birth they let them go. They said it was a miracle. In fact, Benjamin said that during the genocide he saw heaven and he saw hell. One minute there would be a miracle, the next a demonic invasion.

After the baby was born, they made it back home. A couple weeks passed and they were very hungry. Benjamin left the house in search of food. He was arrested. Again, someone recognized him, and knew that he was a pastor, so they let him go because they did not want a pastor's blood on their hands. Benjamin informed us that all of the missionaries, and foreign workers (all white) fled during the genocide. I wonder what would ahve happened if they stayed? Sure many would have died? Maybe some would have been saved, since obviously some of the killers were worried about who's blood they had on their hands.

Blood on their hands. Its a very interesting thought. Why did they care whether or not a pastor's blood was on their hands. For some killers they obviously didn't care, being that several pastors, nuns, etc were killed, and some raped. The Hutu's had a word for the Tutsi's which translated into "cockroaches." Again a form of tribalism>> to dehumanize "the other." When we begin calling other human beings names, such as: cockroaches, terrorists, commies, the evil ones, scum, etc. we dehumanize them, making it a lot easier to kill them. This is a sign of tribalism that we all need to be aware of! When we hear these sort of things coming out of Washington, or out of own own mouths, we must beware that tribalism does not rear its ugly head, and eventually turn us into "monsters."

Benjamin then took his family and miraculously made it to another village, where someone heroically hid them. Another couple weeks passed, and once again they were hungry. On another search for food, he was captured again. He was handcuffed and placed in an abandoned building ready to be killed. He told us that in some places they had people (often teens) that would "specialize" in the killing. These particular folks were getting high at the moment, and he was told they were on their way to kill him.

He prayed with every ounce in his being. I am sure he prayed with as much fervency as the 5,000 people who died at Ntarama, and the 10,000 people who were murdered in Nyamata. There he was, alone, afraid, with pictures of his family going through his mind, he was preparing to die. Suddenly his bishop (Free Methodist church) walked by! His bishop was well respected in the community and walked around freely, even though he did not approve of what was going on. The bishop asked why they had Benjamin tied up? They told him that Benjamin did not have the required ID papers, and that he was probably a trader, deserving death! The bishop laid into them. He informed them that he was a pastor, and asked if they wanted Benjamin's blood, a pastor, on their hands? They did not.

They released him, and eventually he got back home (with some food). Through some more miracles, he was able to escape to the Congo, and then to Kenya, where he and his family remained until this year, when they moved back to Rwanda to work with Alarm!

Rwandan Resources & White Amnesia

2008-09-03T13:14:00.000-07:00

I wanted to post a few movies and books worth checking out on Rwanda. Here was a sign that said, "Never again!" The best way to keep things like this from happening again is by educating ourselves, and learning from the past. I think about the divisions we have in the United States when it comes to race, and get frustrated when fellow white folks act as if they have amnesia when it comes to racism. In light of the genocide, Celestin talked a lot about tribalism. We may have several different cultures, and they should be celebrated. But the problem occurs when we isolate ourselves and think of ourselves as better than other people. Throughout history tribalism (ethnocentrism for you anthroplogists) has reared its ugly head in many forms. Celestin says we each have our own tribe, but when we begin following Jesus we belong to a higher tribe and that there is no room for the lower tribe (nationalism/ tribalism). He went on to say that there must be individual forgiveness in people. But it is not enough! Not only do individual people need to forgive one another, but the tribes do as well. He went on to talk about his work with ALARM>> this is what they are about, reconciling the two tribes into a higher tribe. He then asked us, if tribes are meant to forgive one another, who is responsible for doing this? Individuals need to step up to the challenge called forgiveness. as I think about my own context, white people have wronged people of color for a very, very long time. This trip has shown me that this is true even in other countries! White people need to ask forgiveness in this world, but I get the since mere verbiage is not enough! Somehow we need to begin thinking in terms of reparations and justice as well. We must also begin re-imagining what the 'higher tribe" should look like in our context. What does it mean that there is no longer Jew nor Gentile, man nor woman, white nor black? It is not enough to say, I was not involved in the injustices of our past, or even the injustices going on in other parts of our world! As I posted earlier the all important word, ubuntu. The African (same word in many African countries) word meaning, "I cannot be all that I need to be, until you are all that you need to be; and you cannot be all that you need to be until I am all that I need to be." Everyone needs everyone, our destinies are intimately interwoven. These very difficult memorials and this tough history needs to be a wake up call to live differently, to live ubuntu.

-chris lahr

Here are some movies about Rwanda...

Sometimes in April
A Sunday in Kigali
Hunting my husbands killers
Ghosts of Rwanda
Shake hands with the devil
As We Forgive
Beyond the Gates
Hotel Rwanda

The Sanctuary

2008-09-03T12:39:00.000-07:00

The following pics are from two different genocide memorials we visited. Both places were churches, sanctuaries of hope, for people surrounded by death. The sanctuaries became a place of prayer, hope, fear, and eventually death. In one church, 5,000 dead, in the other 10,000.

What makes these deaths so horrible, was the manner in which they died. Though you can see bullet and grenade holes in these pics, most people died less mercifully... by machetes, files or knives. The stories of death were a bit overwhelming. It puzzles me to think of the evil we are capable of as human beings. But it also gives me great hope of the good we are also capable of. The stories of genocide included stories of death and evil, but also of miracles and bravery.

The first pic is looking from within one of the sanctuaries. This was the original steel door, that was locked from within. During the genocide the door was ripped apart and the killings began. It takes a long time to kill 10,000 people. Sometimes it would take 24 hours or more. The genocidaires would get tired, go outside and rest, eat, build a camp fire. Once rested they would return to finish the work.

The lone coffin, in the picture, was located at one of the sites. They said she was a woman that many people respected in the village. She was raped several times, a pole was stuck through her and she died. These are but a few of the stories that make up the genocide. The final picture (of this post) is of some of the belongings people had, including one of the ID cards required by all Rwandans to have prior to the genocide. Each card identified the person as Hutu or Tutsi. The ID card was originally issued by the colonizers to help divide and conquer the Rwandan people. Tutsi were put in power of the Hutu's and the bitterness and hatred was birthed. Eventually the Hutu's gained power and the genocide was the result of years of hatred.

The following pics on this blog are of clothes that still remain in each of the sanctuaries. There is a musty smell in the air, and one can hardly imagine what the place would have looked like with the people still in the clothes.

There is also the original blood soaked altar with some tools of death found at the site. Such a memorial is very difficult to visit, but it tells us a very important story that we must never forget.

-chris lahr

Genocide Memorials

2008-09-03T11:54:00.000-07:00

Genocide Memorial

2008-09-03T11:44:00.000-07:00

Genocide Memorial

2008-09-03T11:39:00.000-07:00

Genocide Memorial

2008-09-03T11:37:00.000-07:00

Genocide Memorial

2008-09-03T11:35:00.000-07:00

The Real Deal

2008-09-03T11:30:00.000-07:00

Meet Celestin. He is the real deal. He is our friend and our contact in Rwanda. If you get a chance, check out his ministry ALARM http://alarm-inc.org/ Here is a little of his story that he shared with us...

His mother was barren for 9 years. During this time she was an outcast in the village (they thought she was cursed). When Celestin was born she named him "savior" (translation), because his birth saved her from further humiliation. He was raised in NW Rwanda. As he grew they taught him how to be the family priest. He was expected to sacrifice goats for appease his ancestors, so that they would fight off the evil spirits. When he was young he met a missionary from Ohio, and began to go to church. Within a couple of years he gave his life to Jesus. It didn't take long for him to find in the Scriptures that Jesus was the great ancestor who made the final sacrifice for us all. He then stopped making sacrifices. The fam was not too keen on the idea, and ostracized him from the family.

Through the missionaries, Celestin was connected with a widow from the states who supported him $6 a month. With this support he was able to finish school, and Bible school. Not long after he graduated, she passed away. He says that she was a miracle from God, Divine provision. After Bible school, Celestin went back to his village, and his family gave their lives to Jesus!

During the genocide Celestine was in Nairobi (I believe he was in school, but not 100% on that). His father and 70 members of his congregation were killed. He said he was very close to his dad, and that his dad often called him "pastor." Today one of the relatives of the murderers during the genocide now takes care of his mother. Celestin spends his life trying to mend the differences between the Hutu and Tutsi's. Rather than revenge, he seeks reconciliation. He also realizes that the problem is bigger than Rwanda, therefore ALARM also works in 7 other African countries surrounding it.

Celestin told us that back in 1997 (3 years after the genocide), he had returned to Rwanda. He was not really a favorite of either the Hutu or the Tutsi tribes because he was working for reconciliation of both. While in Rwanda, he was taken by the police, questioned and tortured. He said that he could hear the cries of suffering and death in the background. He said that he could have died, but rather when he told them that he would like to be released for the week to teach at a pastor's conference (after he promised them that he would return on Saturday), they let him go! I asked how the pastor's conference went... he said it was the best one he ever had! He then told us that he returned on Saturday to the police. They were a bit surprised that he returned, so they let him go! He said he returned on Saturday because he did not want the police to harass his family or connects that he had.

I get the since from talking to Celestin that he does not have a lot of fear. The Scriptures do say, "Why fear those who can only kill the body..." Celestin has a passion for his people, that is all people. We are all created in the image of God, and we are all called to a higher tribe.

We truly enjoyed our time with Celestin, and look forward to seeing him again. Also, believe me, this blog post does not do justice to him or anything going on in Rwanda.

-chris lahr

Signs, Signs Everywhere are Signs

2008-09-03T10:43:00.000-07:00

Thought I would share some pics of some of the signs we saw. Some are serious, some are not so serious. Again, this blog is open to your interpretation!
- chris lahr

more signs

2008-09-03T10:35:00.000-07:00

Preachin' the Word at the Seminary

2008-09-03T09:53:00.000-07:00

To wrap up our busiest day in Rwanda, we found ourselves at the Baptist International Theological University. They asked if we would be willing to share a bit with the students. The class is held in French, so we had to have another interpreter other than Celestin. Not too big of a deal, but working with new translators can be difficult.

Before either of us started talking, Celestin introduced us. He took a long time "explaining" why we looked the way we looked and dressed the way we dressed (we forgot to wear our suit and ties :) ). Later Celestin told us that many pastor are very secluded to their denomination and can be very judgemental. Many pastors attend their congregations with suits. Anyway, Shane started with a couple of witty jokes. The only thing... no one was laughing (except me, I thought it was hilarious). People were straight faced as he shared stories. I then began to share with the same outcome. It was a little different for us, in that it was hard to read the crowd. Did they understand, or were things being lost in translation? It was hard to know. When we finished we had a time of question and answer. The first question was, "Who is Mother Teresa?" We were a bit taken back, they did not know Mother T? Celestin again reminded us that many pastors do not know "the Saints" outside of their own denominations.

The next question referred to a story I told about a kid dying without a name. The question, "So whats the big deal whether or not someone dies without a name?" The time of questions and answers was a fruitful one, and I feel we were able to make ourselves a little clearer. But the highlight of the night came when Celestin stood up and shared with the group. He basically shared much of what we shared, but they seemed to understand now. He shared how the Gospel is not about dressing up or which denomination we are a part of, but it is about loving God and loving our neighbor!

He told us that when we first got there, there were students laughing at us. He then stated that by the time we left, people were broken and God had visited us!

- chris lahr

When I was hungry did you feed me?

2008-09-03T09:35:00.000-07:00

During our whirlwind of a day in Rwanda, we visited Kibagabaga Hospital (an AIDS hospital). We met up with a youth group that serves there with ALARM. They had just finished visiting with the patients when we got there and were getting ready to go down the road to play the hospital's staff in a game of volleyball. Talk about sweet. I love volleyball, good volleyball that is. I am a bit annoyed with barnyard, I-do-not-know-what-I-am-doing- volleyball, but these guys were the real deal. Super good. Below is a picture of them playing.

While we were in the state- runned hospital they asked us to pray for the patients. They said culturally it is rude if they know a pastor visits and does not pray! We visited with several patients, and prayed. As we were leaving Celestin told us that one of the patients was asking for food. He then told us that the state provides the patients with medicine, but not food. The only way they eat is if family, or someone brings them something to eat. The same is true for those held in prison. This was a difficult thing for us to wrap our minds around. How hard would it be to organize local congregations to bring in a meal once a day or so?

The words of Jesus vibrates in my ears, "I was hungry and you fed me?"
We didn't have any food with us, and we had no idea where we were going until we got there. But I wonder if that is an excuse? Should I have worked harder at making sure Jesus was fed that day? Again, the whirlwind trip was a hard one. Maybe someone reading this will be moved to do something about it?

Hardest Part of the Trip

2008-09-03T09:14:00.000-07:00

I think the hardest part of the trip was visiting Kanombe, a church that takes care of several orphaned children in their village. The hardest part was the excitement and energy you could see in their eyes when we got there. They seemed so happy to have guests. When we got there they had us go into the church where they sang a few songs for us. About 4 or 5 older youth, who had been orphaned during the genocide sang some powerful songs for us (which Celestin interpreted for us at the time).

We shared a little with the kids and then we left. This is what was so hard about the trip! I hated showing up, saying hi, and then leaving. I wanted to hang out and play, especially since I was missing my kids so much! But this was the nature of our journey. We were meant to listen, collect stories, and then share their stories with you. Many of these kids, I am told, are orphaned as a result of their parents dying of AIDS. During the genocide men with AIDS were used as weapons of war, and they would rape women, infecting them with the virus. Many of these kids are orphaned as a result.

Another aspect that was hard, was that there was a girl sitting to my left, maybe 6 or 7 years old. As I looked at her, she loved me with her eyes. It was like she looked deep into my soul. I do not have a picture of her on film, but I do in my mind. I do not know her name or her story, I only know that she loved me with her eyes.

Before we left, one of the ladies told us not to forget the children of Kanombe. She said that they are often overlooked because they live in a village far away from the city (Kigali).

What can I do? I am not really sure at this point. I guess the first step is to tell you about the kids of Kanombe. Please do not forget them. Keep them in their prayers. Pray for their provision. Again if you would like to help out financially you could contat ALARM and they could give you details. http://alarm-inc.org/

-chris lahr

Make Your Own Clothes

2008-09-03T08:58:00.000-07:00

We went to a Tailoring School as well. The folks attending this school learn to make their own clothes. By doing this, they are able to make clothes for their families! They are also able to sell some of their clothes to provide for their families as well.

Shane may want to say more about the school, he particularly loved it. He told them that he too makes his own clothes. They gave him a standing ovation and at least acted impressed ;)

- chris lahr

IWE (Girl School)

2008-09-03T08:54:00.000-07:00

IWE is a school for girls that teaches the first three years of high school (general subjects). The first pic shows an expansion they are building, using their own bricks! It's a lot cheaper to build when you make your own bricks!

The next two pics are a dormitory that they are in the process of building. They hope to house about 150 students, who have a difficult time commuting to school each day. We were told on more than one occasion that the way to build in Africa is to simply start building until you run out of money. It is not so much a lack of wisdom as it is a statement of faith that the money will eventually be there to complete the project.

We were told that someone from the States came and volunteered with them for a while. That person ended up bringing their family back and they were able to build one of the buildings, their desks and hooked them up with computers. ALARM has a tech guy come in once a week to teach computers to the girls.

- chris lahr

More Pics of IWE

2008-09-03T08:45:00.000-07:00

Why? What's the Significance?

2008-09-03T08:42:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite lines in the movie "Pee Wee's Big Adventure" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_NfSm67PrQo) takes place when he has a group of friend in his basement. He spends hours going through pieces of evidence that might point to who stole his bike. Someone asks Pee Wee what this was all supposed to mean. It was a bad idea, he gets ticked and eventually says, "Why, what's the significance? I don't know!"

This is the official, "Why, what's the significance" post! The first pic is the Holocaust Memorial we saw in Berlin, the second pic is a collection of the bricks that are drying and waiting to be put into the kiln. The two pics remind me of each other a bit. Not really sure if there is a deeper meaning to it all. In fact the artist of the Holocaust Memorial said there was no specific meaning to the 2000+ slabs of concrete, and that it was left up to people's interpretations! So there you have it. I guess it's ok to have a blog that is open to interpretation now and then.

Making Bricks

2008-09-03T08:28:00.000-07:00

One of our journey's in Rwanda lead us on a long windy dusty road through the counrtyside. They told us that they had just started another business that is helping sustain their ministry, they are making bricks! It really was cool to check out the process of it all.
The area where they make the bricks is a swampy area. They dig deep into the soil and they mold the dirt into a brick-like mold (go figure). They set the bricks out to dry for several days. Once they are dry they put them in a kiln for about 7 days. The result... bricks. They are not only able to sell them, they are also able to build their own buildings with them as well!

School Rules

2008-09-03T08:20:00.000-07:00

Today is my kids first day of school (Alexa 3rd, Moriah K.), they love it and are very excited, they think school rules. It so nice having young kids who still think school is fun and they actually look forward to going!

In Rwanda not everyone can go to school. In order to go to school, everyone has to pay for it. As far as I could tell, they did not have a law stating that every child must be in school either. Though education seemed to be valued by many, actually sending all of your children to school isn't always an option. We were told that many families can only send some of their children to school, often they send the boys.

ALARM has a training school called, "Kabuga Vocational Training Center." In Rwanda students go to high school for 6 years. The first 3 years they study general subjects, the final three years they have a specific focus. The Kabuga Center is a place of focus. Currently they have two classes (18 guys and 1 girl in one, and 9 guys and a girl in the other). At the center they teach how to build with wood and mason, basic carpentry skills, welding and electricity.
The first pic shows one of the classrooms, the second is their workshop. They have plans for expanding quite a bit, but for now they build and tear down each year in this spot.

They also do not have a lot of supplies. Many of the supplies they do have are not in the best of conditions either. I asked the professor what the success rate was for the graduates in finding a job. Without hesitation he said there was a 100% success rate in finding employment! It seems to me that this would be a great initiative for someone interested in doing these sort of things to get involved in. They are doing so much with so little. It is amazing to think of what they could do if they had a few more resources.

Though no one asked me to do this, and I wasn't planning on saying this when I started out writing this blog, supporting ALARM financially is a good idea! The funds will be put to good use and the work they are doing is making a difference! http://alarm-inc.org/

Meet Alarm

2008-09-03T07:50:00.000-07:00

Everyone reading this should take a moment and check out ALARM (African Leadership and Reconciliation Ministries) www.alarm-inc.org

ALARM was started by our friend Celestin, who saw a great need for reconciliation and leadership after the genocide. Rwanda is about 90% Christian and yet many of them were involved in mass killing. I remember hearing in an anthropology class in seminary that Christianity is a mile wide and yet only an inch deep in Africa, in other words, many people take on the forms of Christianity, but that is about it. There is a powerful scene in the movie "Beyond the Gates" (http://beyondthegates-movie.com/) where the priest in a Rwandan village states, "People take communion because they are told to. Now they are killing each other because they are told to." He was referring to the fact that the people's faith was only an inch deep, it was not something that impacted every facet of their lives. ALARM seeks to train pastors and others throughout the 8 country region of Rwanda so that their faith will go much deeper and impact all of life. The next few posts will be some of initiatives started by ALARM to take things a bit deeper. Through meeting the folks of ALARM I have been challenged to look at the depth of my own walk with Jesus.
WEEP- Microfinance- Abanyarukundo

Our second day in Rwanda we started it off by meeting the women of WEEP. They greeted us with a song, which was beautiful. Shane tried to return the favor and sing them a song, but they all got scared and ran off (Just kidding). They shared a bit of their story. Many of the women had been raped and had lost loved ones during the genocide. Through this initiative they were beginning to put their lives back together. As you can see to the left, the women make their own clothes, baskets and soap. They also tie-dye some clothes which is pretty sweet.

It was inspiring to hear their stories. In the face of great adversity they were again finding meaning in what they could produce and sell. With the money they are collecting, they are also able to help several of their neighbors (many widows) as well. They informed us that after the genocide there were many, many kids that had been orphaned. It was not uncommon for folks to take in the kids and begin raising them as their own. Their logic was simple... if it had been one of my kids I would have wanted the same. As a result there are some pretty big families and provisions can be hard to come by at times.

Before we left, I told the women that I would tell my girls about them, and that they were real sheroes. I think about all the things people whine about here in the States (myself included) and yet these women experienced suffering and pain in a way I hope I never have to. Yet they are the embodiment of hope! They see a brighter future in Rwanda and in our world, and such hope inspires me.
- chris lahr

Hands of Compassion Pics

2008-08-28T19:14:00.000-07:00

Yes I schooled Shane at Chess!

Meet Some Ordinary Radicals

2008-08-28T19:09:00.000-07:00

One of the highlights of the trip was being able to stay with the McCauley's. Alan, Xana and the kids were great hosts. The live in a community called "Hands of Compassion." They had many stories, and were very encouraging to us. They are currently compiling their stories, so hopefully we will all be able to read them in the near future :)!

About 25 years ago, Alan and Xana went on a tour in the United States, on a quest to see what it means to live in community. They visited many different intentional communities and spent a great deal of time with "Jesus People" in Chicago. Having lived in the thick of Apartheid, they were fed up with the unjust situation they found themselves in, and decide to do something different. When they returned to South Africa, they approached the folks at their church, Rhema (www.rhema.co.za) about starting an intentional community that would include both white and black folk. Though it was illegal, and highly dangerous, the church was supportive and community was birthed. They moved into a house in the countryside with a "mixed" group of people. I wish I could remember all of their stories and had the time to write them here. Today the community is made up of over 100 people! It is truly amazing what they have become. They have folks living with them that are in recovery. We found a pleasant similarity between their approach and our friends approach at New Jerusalem here in Philly (http://www.newjerusalemnow.org/). They also have several homes that have new mothers and their babies, as well as a place for children, many of them orphaned. They also run a health clinic that also services the neighborhood as well. For 10 months of the year they run a program very similar to Mission Year (www.missionyear.org) called SWAP (Serve With A Purpose). I had a great time talking with them and comparing their experience with the ones folks have doing MY. Oh, I almost forgot that they have a HUGE chess set outside as well.

Hands of Compassion was a beautiful expression of community. What was even more exciting was that they have been going at it for over 20 years! Hands of Compassion did not become what it is today, overnight. They had to take risks, they had to suffer. At the same time they laughed and were filled with joy. What they have become today is a direct result of their doing small things with great love! They did not have a grand vision, then, of what things would look like today. They simply loved God and their neighbor. It is in doing small things with great love that we are compelled to take a step back once in a while and realize some pretty amazing things are going on!

A New Tribe

2008-08-26T22:08:00.000-07:00

In a matter of two weeks we saw the "not-so-great- wall of Berlin," the Holocaust museum, the Apartheid museum, and three different Genocide memorials. Talk about a heavy trip. Though each of these events occurred in three separate countries, I was struck by the similarities among these human tragedies. Celestin, our friend and guide in Rwanda said that one of the underlying causes to the genocide (and I would argue to the Holocaust and Apartheid) was "tribalism." Celestin says that God has given humanity many tribes (cultures). Differing cultures are good and should be celebrated. The problem occurs when a certain tribe begins to exclude others (tribalism). The exclusion takes on many faces and occurs at many different levels. In Germany, tribalism led to some walls. The Berlin wall (shown to the right) stretched right through the middle of the city and was erected to separate people. The Holocaust was the result of faulty thinking that one's "race" was superior to another's. As a result the one group thought it necessary to eliminate the other. The second picture on the right is the "Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe." About 6 million Jews were exterminated during the Holocaust. More recently they are creating memorial sites for folks who were homosexual and those who were handicapped.

The third picture is from a Genocide site in Rwanda. In this church building, 10, 000 folks huddled together to escape the demonic killings. They all died. These are the clothes they were wearing, scattered throughout the building. A reminder that tribalism is a false ideology that ultimately leads to death.

Finally the last picture was taken at the Apartheid museum and represents the numerous political deaths that occurred during these unsettling years. Throughout this blog we will go into further details of each of these events.

Celestine says that tribalism leads to divisions, and eventually death. In Africa, there is a word that is commonly understood in many of the languages... ubuntu. There really isn't a word in the English that defines the word properly. Essentially ubuntu means that "in order for you to be all that you need to be, I must be all that I need to be. And in order for me to be all that I need to be, you must be all that you need to be." All tribes are connected, we all need each other, we are all beloved sons and daughters of God.

Celestin also noted that when we begin following Jesus, we are called to a higher tribe! In this new tribe there is no room for the "lower tribe." The new tribe includes people from all tribes. Even the language we use becomes different in that there is a new "us" and "them." Desmond Tutu in his book, "No Future Without Forgiveness" writes,"None is an outsider, all are insiders, all belong. There are no aliens, all belong in the one family, God's family, the human family. There is no longer Jew or Greek, male or female, slave or free-- instead of separation and division, all distinctions make for a rich diversity to be celebrated for the sake of the unity that underlies them. We are different so that we can know our need of one another, for no one is ultimately self-sufficient" (p.265).

I can't help to notice the tribalism in my own country. The way I hear conservatives talk about liberals, and liberals about conservatives. It is frustrating to see the way many people in the church divide themselves superficially through denominationalism and "bad theology." As followers of Jesus, we must be "the Church." We must realize the calling to this higher tribe and seek unity and a better world.
- chris lahr

This Sure wasn't a Honeymoon!

2008-08-26T16:18:00.000-07:00

Shane Claiborne and Chris Lahr just got back from a whirlwind trip to Germany, South Africa and Rwanda. During the two week journey they had eleven flights, four of them were overnighters. Each day was jammed packed with incredible visits, and often overwhelming information.

The following is a journal of our journey. This blog will be dedicated to the many lessons we learned during these two cram-packed weeks.

For starters, actually as a test to see if I can figure out how to blog, I thought I would post two pics. One was the name of our room at a hostile our first (and only) night in Berlin, Germany. We were stoked when they told us we could have a room with just the two of us (rather than a room of 12 people). I can't say we were as thrilled to find out we were staying in the honeymoon sweet. The good news was that we at least had our own beds!

The Second pic is really the only pic that we had of the two of us. This was taken at the Hotel Des Mille Collines, which has become known as hotel Rwanda. If you have not had the chance to see the movie we highly recommend it. Well there it is. If this post works, you can expect many more photos and stories to come. Peace to you all.
--chris lahr