Grace and Truth

In our last post, If I were born..., we asked, How should I live in light of my circumstances?

Unlike Skalzang, I was born — something that I had nothing to do with! — into a family, at a time, in a country with enormous opportunity. That said, Should I be concerned with Skalzang's wellbeing?

More generally, Should I help the poor?

Biblically, the answer is yes. We are all familiar with Jesus's judgment of those who show no concern for poor; helping the disadvantaged is so aligned with Jesus's character, it is as if we are helping Jesus himself (Matt. 25:45).

If we agree that we should help Skalzang and the families of Atting, the next question is how?

Do we give them money? Food and clothing? Vouchers for the nearest hospital? Cell phones? How do we most effectively help Skalzang and his family?

Certainly, there are occasions when direct aid is essential. For example, Skalzang wrote in 2006 that swarms of locusts had returned and were destroying their crops. Consequently, the people were depending on government aid for survival!

I advocate empowering and equipping the people. For example, teaching more effective farming techniques may improve the crop yields. Improving sanitation habits may alleviate disease. Microloans may jump-start small businesses. These hypothetically illustrate the benefit of empowerment: the people themselves better their lives and the lives of their children.

Philanthropists have recently built solar-powered schools in remote villages, making education widely accessible. Previously, these schools closed during the winter because of the harsh conditions, so only wealthy families could afford to send their children to distant boarding schools. Now, though, qualified teachers are willing to stay in remote villages during the winter and children have a comfortable environment to learn.

The Dalai Lama also inaugurated a new school in Leh, built by a grant from the Dalai Lama's Charitable Trust, which serves the poorest families from remote areas aiming to help them escape poverty. The Dalai Lama is right that targeting the poorest families without access to education or medical care, will be the first step of many to break the cycles of poverty. 

In thinking about philanthropy, it is important to be aware of the potential unintended consequences. Understandably, not everyone looks favorably on Western aid; some may accuse us of importing our values and culture. The relentless march of Western culture to even the remotest corners of the earth eats away at the ancient traditions and practices.

My question for you and one that I'm grappling with is this: How can we most effectively help the people of Atting, India?

Katherine is traveling in Ladakh, the northern most region of India located high in the Great Himalayas bordered by China and Pakistan. Her adventures have encouraged me to reconnect with a friend who lives there.

In the mid 90's, we began sponsoring the college education of Skalzang, a young man who lives in Atting, a 300-person village in the Zanskar Valley.

The person who introduced us to Skalzang describes his village, pictured to the right.

There are few inhabited valleys in the world as remote or desolate as the three valleys that make up the area known as Zanskar. Suspended between the Great Himalayan range to the south, and the Zanskar range in the north, it is situated in the most northern corner of India at elevations of over 13,000 feet.

Only one rough, jeep road over the 14,000-foot Pensi Pass links Zanskar with the outside world. However, even this is impassable for more than six months of the year, due to heavy snows and temperatures dropping below -20 C.

The people are almost exclusively subsistence farmers, and have just a few short months in which to grow their food and gather whatever fuel they can from the sparse vegetation. Little or no money is exchanged, and it is as if time has stood still here for many generations.

It is nearly impossible for me to get my brain around the way of life in Atting. No power, water, sewer, phone, Internet, school, hospital, doctor, store, road, bus, or car. Rather, mud huts with central heat — a dung and stubble fire. If I lived in Atting, almost everything that I've done today would be impossible. If I lived in Atting, my life would be unimaginably different.

Soon after we began sponsoring Skalzang, we received a warm letter in which he expressed his gratitude. He writes,

Skalzang

Right from beginning I was born in poor family, still my parents given me education in village level primary school. After this I can't continue my further studies due to poor financial. I am quite interested in study and have been looking too someone to help me. But I can't due to my misfortune.

I have a large family member. We are eight family members. My father is quite old. He is 60 this time. I have two other brothers and three sisters, but I am the elder one of all of them. So I have to take the whole responsibility of my home.

The past few days, I've meditated on his opening words: "Right from beginning I was born in poor family."

The phrase, "I was born," has torn my world to shreds. "I was born..."

Notice that after describing Atting, I write, "If I lived in Atting." In our western, individualist culture, where every kid is taught, "You can do whatever you want," equal opportunity is an inalienable right. "If you don't like living in Flint, move! Head for Dallas, Vegas, LA ... get a new start."

This view of reality is a complete myth. It distorts our values, desires, and interests. In short, it turns us in on ourselves. It makes us selfish, proud, and arrogant.

If I were born in Atting, the firstborn son of an elderly father in a large family whose survival depended on the harvest, would I have gone to college, graduate school, and more graduate school so I could do and be whatever I want in life? If I were born in Atting, would I be writing a blog with my super-fast cyber-fiber-connected notebook, sipping Peet's coffee in my air-conditioned house?

Nope. Not a chance.

If I were born in Atting, I'd be working in the fields today, hoping and praying that the locusts would not return this fall and ravage my crops. I'd be wondering when my sons would return from searching for fuel to heat our mud hut this winter. I'd be worrying that my elderly mother's eyes were growing increasingly dim.

But, I wasn't born in Atting.

I was born in Roseburg, the firstborn son of an exceptionally talented, hard-working, entrepreneurial father who gave me every opportunity imaginable, from education to employment along with a grand inheritance. Food, heat, and healthcare are assumed.

How should I live in light of my circumstances?

"Dad ... Dad, I'm in the hospital, sick, really sick. They think it's my appendix."

Saturday evening -- the last phone call you want, especially when your daughter is in Shanghai.

Helpless, totally helpless. I crawled in bed and tried to sleep.

Shortly after midnight, having not heard from Katherine, I called her. She reported that the ultrasound indicated acute appendicitis, so they wanted to do surgery.

A Chinese hospital. Chinese doctors. All alone, except for one dear friend and the CIEE staff.

Helpless, totally helpless.

We all agreed that surgery was the only option. Acute appendicitis can be life threatening.

Together with Katherine, we cried out to God and between sobs, pleaded with him for mercy, to give the doctors wisdom, to heal Katherine, to be the God of comfort.

Click. We hung up.

Minutes passed like hours. What was going on? Was she in surgery? Did her appendix rupture?

Helpless, totally helpless.

At 4:00 Katherine called. After we prayed, the doctor ordered a CT Scan to confirm the diagnosis, but the result was inconclusive!

Katherine's blog elegantly fills in the details. In short, today she is recovering from a GI infection, hoping to go home tomorrow.

When we prayed, God responded, dramatically. He revealed himself to us and demonstrated his character, the gracious and compassionate God, full of love for his people.

God says, "Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me" (Psalm 50:15).

Helpless and humbled, thankful that God was glorified.

"Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses," begins the writer of Hebrews after recounting the faith of the Old Testament saints including Abel, Noah, Abraham, and Moses (Heb 12:1). These saints witnessed to faith in a future promise, a heavenly city where they would dwell with their God. 

Yesterday, I sat in the Pilot Butte Cemetery among another great cloud of witnesses. These witnesses, who included my Great Grandmother Donahue and my Grandmother Harris, devout godly women, testified to something better, namely, Jesus, "the founder and perfecter of our faith" (Heb 12:2). 

My story was caught up in and merged with God's eternal story of redemption. The exhortations to the Hebrews lived on; today, they were God's longings for me and my family.

The writer, along with the saints — my great grandmother, grandmother, and aunt — exhort us: "Do not grow weary or give up in your battle against sin; rather, strive for holiness" (Heb 12:14). Together with these saints, God charges us to 

"Strive for peace with everyone …. See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no 'root of bitterness' springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled" (Heb 12:14–15). 

As we laid my Aunt Lorraine to rest, I felt as if I was one of the lepers in 2 Kings 7 outside the gate of Samaria. Sinners all, yet we were unwittingly caught in the story of redemptive history to witness yet again to our God who keeps steadfast love for thousands of generations. 

"Strive for peace ... no 'root of bitterness.'" 

Father God, I confess that at times my heart has been hard, that at times I have turned away from the grace that I have in Christ. Forgive me and my family, I pray. Heal my stubborn and prideful spirit. Cause me to want to strive to live at peace with others. Give me faith to chase and cherish Jesus, to follow unswervingly in the footsteps of those who have gone before me. In Christ I pray, Amen.

Shanghai, China.

This past week, Katherine, our daughter, headed west. Like the early American Pioneers, she boarded an Air Canada covered wagon westbound. She will be exploring today's frontier, the exploding global trade center, Shanghai China.

Katherine is participating in CIEE's Gap Year Program, which is designed for high school graduates to study abroad prior to entering college. She plans to return home in June and then enter Stanford in the fall of 2010. She is interested in International Relations and Business.

During the year she will live with a host family, study Mandarin at a university, and volunteer by teaching English to underprivileged Chinese children.

Needless to say, this is a very difficult time for all of us. We miss our daughter and find ourselves utterly dependent on God for mercy. We are praying that God will be gracious and merciful to us, "keeping steadfast love for thousands, [and] forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin" (Ex 34:7). Please pray with us.

Katherine is blogging her adventure at katheirneloosley.com. You can subscribe to updates by email or in your favorite RSS reader. Today, she describes the harrowing two-hour taxi ride to her host family's apartment and retells her first Saturday in Shanghai. 

Shelley and I are grateful for the countless blessings that we enjoy, especially the ambition, fortitude, and inquisitiveness of Katherine.