In the late 4th century, Basil preached three powerful homilies aimed at stirring his Caesarean congregation to share with the starving, not simply as a gesture of kindness but as a straightforward Christian obligation. Indeed he took a year out himself to work in a refuge with the poor. Why? The context had changed, and in a time of famine and drought, Christians had to respond – not out of guilt, but out of unfeigned love.
Every year, the international financial institutions produce a bureaucratic statistical report monitoring progress on the Millennium Development Goals or MDGs – a set of goals to reduce hunger, put children in school, improve the health of children and mothers, address key diseases such as HIV/AIDS and tuberculosis, provide clean water and sanitation, etc by 2015. It is produced by analysts for whom poverty is not shocking – rather it is their professional speciality. But this year, the cover of the report shows darkening shadows and turbulent boiling clouds. The title is blunt, and not quite so professional. Written in red on a black background, it reads: 2009: A Development Emergency.
Poor people concur with this bureaucratic report. Kevina, a 60-year old woman farmer in Uganda, said, Poverty is a cruel wild animal. If you doze, it eats you up. So people are not sleeping...
On the start of Christian Aid week I would like to talk with you about global poverty and how, as it is evolving, we are invited to respond differently this year – not out of guilt, but because we are people of love.
Imagine for a moment that all of us in this chapel represented the globe. If you were to look around you, you would notice that one in five of us earned less than 83 pence per day, which is the new $1.25 a day poverty line. One in six of us – perhaps an entire section – was malnourished. But as you were looking around, you would notice a long line of people waiting to be re-seated in the poorest section. In terms of actual numbers, the line would contain at least every single inhabitant of England and Wales – and perhaps also Scotland, Ireland and half of Spain – waiting to be seated in the poorest pews.
Where did this queue come from? Poor people’s sloth? No, our financial crisis. A bit of background may be in order.
In 2005, the UK had a ‘make poverty history’ campaign to instigate actions that sharply reduce hunger, illiteracy, extreme poverty, malaria, tuberculosis, aids, and the proportion of child and maternal deaths. Here in the UK, the post offices stocked a ‘rough guide to a better world’ to share how each person could lend their strength to this common goal. Tremendous progress was made – although not at the hoped-for pace. Instead of giving up, in 2007 and 2008, in the face of the fuel and food crises, leaders, including the UK urged for a redoubling of commitment.
In September 2008, crisis struck. The 1929 crash had reduced global inequality. Of course it touched the poor, but it struck the rich countries, and the rich within those countries most. In contrast, insofar as we can tell, the current crisis is not hitting the richest the most.
Neither is it hitting the naughtiest the most. Due to our interconnectedness, countries that had sound policies are now in recession. And while opinions are divided about which individuals bear most responsibility, all candidate culprits share one characteristic: they are wealthy and likely to remain so.
If the crisis is not mainly striking the rich or the naughty, who is affected? People like me watch the numbers – we wait for new poverty numbers to come out each year, praying for progress. Dark clouds are unmistakable. In 2007 854 million people were hungry; by September the number will climb past 1 billion for the first time ever. And according to recent estimates 55 to 90 million people will fall into extreme poverty this year – hence the image of the queue for re-seating in chapel.
So we have a situation in which actions by a small number of elite are resulting in tragedy, poverty and the associated human pain for others. This might be considered a situation of injustice. From the darkened clouds come hoarse grumbles of the prophets.
Further, because of a natural concern with poverty in their home countries, many citizens, churches, philanthropists, and governments are reducing their support for global poverty reduction abroad. Even those such as Sweden who are maintaining the same percentage will give less, because their national income is falling.
So in a nutshell the arc of poverty is widening, and given shrinking responses, will widen further. It is this that causes even a secular bureaucratic report on poverty to be tinged with dread, even alarm. And this is why I ask you to take Christian Aid week this year particularly seriously.
An Episcopalian church movement that supports spiritual renewal and commitment to global poverty reduction calls the present financial crisis ‘God’s defining moment’. But that is not exactly right. God already has defined God’s purpose. Particular aspects of the missio dei or mission of God to humanity do not seem a great mystery. Jesus’ very name, his true essence, means the Jehovah of salvation. And God is drawing all people to fullness of life – to salvation. This includes attending to people’s physical nourishment, health, and understanding as well as loving relationships, vocation, holiness, and prayer.
No – it is not God for whom this financial crisis and the development emergency is the defining moment. It is the Church. And that is you and me, and this our Chapel, and the Anglican leaders gathered in Jamaica who generate email messages with many words. God has defined God’s mission; God is already out there, out there in the queues, among those who have been poor for decades and with those who will tomorrow endure a fast less voluntary than Bono’s, with those whose faith and prayer are stronger than ours, who are being purified and strengthened. It is this active God in whom we are called to abide as branches on a vine, as people of love – each in different ways. It is a defining moment for us because our own identity will be chiselled by how we respond to an evolving situation not of our making, and whether we join the God who is already responding.
The reading from 1 John began with this sentence: Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action. The sentence is beautiful and it is forceful. It is worth pausing to reflect how we do this. Yet in the epistle of St John, the sentence also responds to a question, posed in the verse that directly preceded it: How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help?
How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? … The implication is, it doesn’t. Rather we must love in truth and action. Given the changed context, we must love the distant poor, the silent poor among whom God walks, as well as those in our towns and streets.
There are many ways to give and many important debates about what are the best ways which we could discuss over lunch. But any giving boils down to giving time– be this in prayer, volunteering, or one day through your own professional work – or giving money. I heartily commend both. People say that money is not the answer, and I fully agree. But no one says that money is the answer. Money can be spent in many ways. It mainly pays people who do have the time, vocation, skills, attentiveness, and energy to attend to a particular situation full time. We will vary greatly in how we will prefer to give of time and money – some prefer local charities, others campaigns – but the point is to try to abide in God, and join our efforts to what God is already doing.
Magdalen traditionally has been the biggest supporter of Christian Aid - and is active on these issues in many other ways. We are not like Dives, who ignored Lazarus at his Gate. We are not, to quote Martin Luther King, “Conscientious objectors in the war against poverty.”1 How, this year, will we respond to the poor by abiding in God, and in doing so renew our church?
When I was a student here, I was not very good at dinnertime banter – a trait which continues. On some occasion I was seated next to Tony Smith, then president of Magdalen. This was not a good situation. At all. Being a sacristan I tried to ignite a conversation, with some hint of desperation, using some vague and incoherent enquiry like what his hopes for the Chapel community were. To my greatest relief, he answered with clarity and conviction. He said something like, ‘I wish that they would stand up on the tables in hall [I’m sure about the tables bit], and say how privileged we are, and incite action.’
During Christian Aid week, the chapel community are invited to take some new action in our own small ways – all through prayer, some through donations, some through volunteering, and perhaps even some through standing on tables. Little children, let us love in truth and action.
as our new Executive Director. It is hard to believe that we have made a transition of Directors right in the time leading up to Convention! Devon has been front and center in the legislative EGR work at Convention—as has been Ian Douglas and Jeffrey Rowthorn. Dahn Gandell, in addition to being a Delegate to Convention has been tireless in organizing the work at the EGR booth and the U2Charist. Her energy and drive put together much of the EGR presence at Convention—very much helped by Debbie Shew, who spent countless hours at the booth with me day after day. For the first week of Convention we were joined in the booth by Arington Chambliss and in the last few days we have been joined by Board member Gary Cartwright. Yesterday Craig Cole joined us, though he is looking after the Five Talents booth also. And Laura Smith has been in and out—letting us know about what has transpired. Truly the Board members at Convention have been involved—given their time and talents to the EGR work.
