Singing Tomorrow’s Song. . . Today in Bangladesh

posted by Lauren Sable

Our community has been reflecting intensely on Sunday nights for some time now on the coming of the Kingdom and how it is not just a future reality, but something that is occurring now in the present. Our Sunday series has enabled us to not only be reminded of this truth, but to develop stronger theological underpinnings to enable us to live more consistently into this truth in our own lives and with our vocations. We know that we have a role to play in this ongoing work and can be agents of change.

As I walked out of the Dhaka airport on Monday and took in my first sights of Bangladesh, I was instantly reminded of an environment I have only experienced once before. People – everywhere. For those that have not had a chance to travel to this part of the world, the volume of people around you that your eyes can take in within one view is really quite amazing. With every sense, you are reminded that this is a land where people scratch out an existence. Of all the countries I have had the privilege of traveling to in Southeast Asia, Africa, and Latin America, - India and Bangladesh are completely unique in this regard.

As we slowly drove from the hotel to the office crawling through the congestion, there were incessant knocks at the car window from beggars. One little girl about nine or ten years of age was considerably persistent. She knocked with her face pressed against the glass, calling out to me at one red light for five or ten minutes and following along to repeat her persistence at the next one. For anyone that has ever traveled overseas, we know that begging is the norm and part of the fabric. It’s typically an issue first timers overseas struggle with and then soon adapt to it. Sadly, I am usually immune to it. Of course the begging makes me sad, but I accept it as a reality. This day, however, whether due to this child’s persistence, the length of time she knocked at the window, or a sensitivity of the Spirit, my analytical brain kicked in as she knocked, returning me to fundamental questions.

What am I supposed to do in this moment? Right now, what does transformation and service look like for this child? How can the Kingdom be brought to her, here and now, given the nature and short circumstances of the moment? My primary lens for supporting transformation is through the work I contribute to in international development. If this child lived in one of our programming areas, addressing her poverty, whether physical or spiritual, would have a framework. Under this framework, there is hope for transformation of systems and structures, changed relationships, income generation possibilities, education and health care. But this was one child in need on a corner, knocking at a window. Her need was evident and there was no chance to address her poverty through my daily work.

According to World Vision’s (and St. Brendan’s) biblical understanding, the harsh reality of social and physical poverty calls for "justice, generosity, and acts of conviction and compassion." But what do these look like in a given moment. How can we discern how to act in a sea of infinite need?

Jesus himself must have encountered this sea of need as he walked the roads of Palestine. He urged people to “knock at the door”. Perhaps there were not car windows, but the multitudes did:
o push into him
o touch the hem of his robe
o cry out beside pools of water and open gates
o send servants with urgent requests to come
o scrape at the roof

We can read the stories of the specific moments in which he responded, but there must have been countless other requests. Palestine was a poor and oppressed land where like Bangladesh, people also scratched out an existence. In the midst of his longer-term mission, as he was confronted with endless needs, what did faithfulness look like in each of those moments?

The next morning, I joined with some Bengali colleagues around a table for devotions. World Vision staff around the world share the same devotional book, though we all progress through it at different paces and use the book differently. The title of our book from last year is something like Making the Most of the Rest of Our Lives and the title of the day’s devotion was “Singing Tomorrow’s Song . . . Today.” The devotion focused on the subject of hope. Participating with National Office staff in devotions is always a privilege as I hear them interpret scripture and make sense of God’s call in light of their social and cultural settings. In particular, we spent much time on the phrase, “Hope is tangibly practical.”

“Hoping boldly in the midst of present problems. Hope is tangibly practical. Rather than distracting us from the pains of the present, hope motivates us to deal with them. It is our privilege to lift up the signs of tomorrow’s certainties in the midst of today’s uncertainties. Followers of Christ are empowered by the Spirit towards what is good, and they can be found at the center of today’s solutions.”

We know it is true, but making hope tangibly practical in given moments is a challenge. How do we possibly make a future reality (i.e. God's Kingdom coming) a present reality? How do I answer a call to "justice, generosity, and acts of conviction and compassion" and make the future hope a present reality to a little girl I encounter for 10 minutes who is following my car in traffic? I know we can all rattle off appropriate theological and practical responses. “It was too short of a time span to do anything. You have no local currency yet. You don’t want to perpetuate a dangerous situation where children beg in traffic. She probably works for a mafia boss who will take what I would give her anyway.” These statements let me off the hook and build immunity to the areas in which I think we are called to wrestle and groan as Christ’s body in the midst of a hurting world. The bottom line is: Although it should be possible to bring the Kingdom in the moment at hand, none of my analysis in those minutes of knocking revealed something that would actually work.

I offer no solutions here. The purpose of this blog is to say to my community that I want us and need us to keep wrestling with questions like these as we explore the Kingdom and focus this year on its practical application. Let’s not conversationally apply easy, thematic spiritual truths to contexts without wrestling with what it means to make them a reality. Personally, I need folks to strive with me and submit with me before God, asking him in his mercy to show us how we can sing tomorrow’s song today. To show us how to be people of justice, mercy, generosity, compassion, and conviction in the world’s most broken places so that we can truly be signs of the Kingdom and sources of hope in the midst of pain.

God, lead us that we may stand firm in faith for justice. Teach us love, teach us compassion. Above all, out of love and compassion, teach us to act. Amen. -St. Brendan’s Common Prayer Liturgy (prayer from the Iona Community)