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Resurrection and 1 Corinthians 15: Beyond Tupac Holograms

24 Apr

Not sure if you have heard or seen about Tupac’s recent performance with Snoop. Nope, you didn’t misread anything, and yes I meant to say Tupac. Tupac, the one in whom there has always been urban myths surrounding his death, which has led some to believe he is still alive. Yup, that Tupac! In a somewhat creepy manner, Snoop and Dre paid a premium to have their old friend perform once again with them live, by hologram. I can’t lie, it was pretty impressive. It was also very eerie to see someone we all (or most of us) know is dead on stage performing, with life like movement, traversing across the stage, and getting the crowd hype. Regardless of whether you agree with this action or not, certainly we can all understand the desire to bring back such a legendary and almost mythic hip hop artist. Tupac, in many ways, has become a larger figure after his death than when he was still living. He is considered to be hip hop’s pinnacle cultural prophet of the 90’s in the mind of most hip hoppers with any collective memory that reaches back before the turn of the 21st century. However, the reality is that Tupac is gone, and in many ways, there continues to be a hole and vacuum in the hip hop world that has not been filled by most of our contemporary mainstream hip hop artists. The hologram is impressive, but if anything it ultimately brings our attention to the reality that he is truly gone and that he is missed, rather than that some measure has speciously fooled us into believing he has come back to life.

I’ve been reading 1 Corinthians 15 a lot recently. It has been consuming my mental faculties for various reasons recently. If 1 Corinthians 13 is the Love chapter, then chapter 15 should likewise be deemed the Resurrection chapter.

Now I want to make clear for you, brothers and sisters, the gospel that I preached to you, that you received and on which you stand, and by which you are being saved, if you hold firmly to the message I preached to you – unless you believed in vain. For I passed on to you as of first importance what I also received – that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day according to the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. Last of all, as though to one born at the wrong time, he appeared to me also. (1 Cor. 15:1-8)

What is important to note, as Paul rehearses the gospel which was passed down to him, is that the emphasis and launching point is the resurrection rather than Jesus’ death. The whole chapter is the outflow of Jesus’ resurrection. Notice also that Paul is initially interested in Jesus’ appearance to his disciples, the crowds, and ultimately even to him after his resurrection. However, Jesus’ resurrection, unlike Tupac’s hologram, is one that offers hope not despair. Tupac’ hologram is a reminder of our fleeting mortality, our brief visitation in these decaying bodies. Jesus’ resurrection, in contrast, points us towards hope beyond death.

For Christ’s resurrection is the first fruit of the resurrection that we will join him in (15:20). Jesus’ resurrection, was a physical and tangible reality, despite what some liberals have argued from within the confines of modernity’s limited theological vision and faith-killing enlightenment approaches to logic and reasoning. It was in the firm conviction of Jesus’ resurrection that people were able to risk everything and to be fashioned after Jesus, the prototype of a new humanity (15:49). Similarly, the oppressive threat of death, a favorite weapon of imperial and oppressive powers and forces in our world, no longer has any teeth in its bite (15:54-56). Disciples subversively rejected the Roman Empire has having rule over their life, because only the Messiah and his Kingdom were granted that. Likewise, we can also live with radical postures, as we reject false claims to the reigns over our lives, because nothing that can be done to us will pass through death to the other side. So we can speak boldly and say “No” to “God and Country” and simultaneously say “Yes” to “God and His Kingdom”. And if we say we reject the reign of America over us and accept the reign of God’s Kingdom over us, then we also embody those eternal realities right now as we begin to participate in the Kingdom of justice, peace, and righteousness that has centralized the poor, the marginalized, and the oppressed at the Lord’s table.

Our new found resurrection boldness allows us to defy the social order, the status quo, and the dominant culture’s power plays. We should no longer be bamboozled into the belied lies of the ephemeral mainstream. Tupac’s hologram was neat, but nonetheless impermanent and death-dealing. Jesus’ resurrection offers us a game-changing imperishability and a life-giving hope the world needs.

The Hoodie (Revisted and Expanded): Racialized Gaze and Trayvon Martin

25 Mar

 About 2 years ago my wife and I stopped for pizza way up in the Souderton/Telford area (philly suburb outskirts). We were in the area already and had received a strong recommendation for this particular place. As we walked into the restaurant, we immediately received stares from everyone in the facility, adult and child alike. Once seated, my wife who is white, and who tends to not always pick up on glares from others as quickly as I tend to, immediately said to me “whoa, did you feel that!”, and of course I responded by saying “uh, yeah, of course I did”. Our presence there was disruptive to whatever norms that were typically played out in that building. It was summer time, and I was wearing nothing but a T-shirt and shorts. And my black skin was bare, on display, and held social meaning beyond ethnic difference. I could not hid or cover myself from the racialized gazes that looked at me and projected meaning onto my black body. I honestly do not know what exactly was running through the minds of the people who rudely stared at us as we came in and took our seats. Was I perceived as a threat or did I appear suspicious? Was it taboo to be an interracial couple in their minds? Or maybe it was just my hyper-visibility as other, and different. I will probably never know precisely what those stares meant, other than that they were not welcoming glances. My body had once again become an object to be observed and interpreted, which was not my first experience with this, nor my last, but yet certainly a memorable one.

Since college, I have learned and mastered the importance of manufacturing a public image when I go out. Yup, that’s right, I intentionally choose clothes to wear to manipulate how I am being perceived by others, particularly by the dominant culture. What you must understand is that I do not have a choice, as a young black male I must always know how I am being perceived by others, and play into that, to not know could prove detrimental. For example, since graduating college, most people probably conjure up in their minds an image of me in which I am wearing jeans, a button up shirt, and a sports coat. However, when I was in college, my uniform of choice was most often a hoodie and jeans. I loved and continue to love hoodies. There is something familiar and comfortable about a hoodie for me.  The hoodie for me goes beyond comfort, and begins to transcend into my own self awareness of identity, formation, and social place and posture in the world I live.  The clothes I wear, in many ways, has as much significance to me as space does for Willie James Jennings in The Christian Imagination. My hoodie communicates to me, reminding me of who I am, how people perceive me, and how I defiantly respond to the racialized gaze.

One of the most encouraging things that happened during my last year as a student, was when two separate white female friends of mine on campus admitted on separate occasions that they were afraid of me when they first met me freshman year. They also admitted that it was ridiculous for them to have felt that way, because after all I was Dru, and everyone who knew me loved being around me. My only caution was to make sure that this revelation would be applied to humanizing all black males rather than making me the exception to the rule.  I actually applaud these two young women for their courage to admit to me what I had known I was experiencing more broadly throughout my time there as an undergrad. The racialized gaze that interpreted my young black male body in a hoodie as dangerous and suspicious until proven otherwise, is not merely a Christian College problem, but it pervades the racialized American experience, in that black male bodies are always seen as more threatening than their white counterparts. The same act performed by differently pigmented people, especially when hoodied up, is interpreted as two completely different acts. This is the case even when merely walking down the sidewalk of one’s own Christian College Campus as a Bible major.

This narrative has been lived out over and over again with different characters. Hoodie or no hoodie, there is a gaze which has been racialized to see dark skin and make it opaque, in that it cannot be hidden. The visibility of dark skin on human bodies in America immediately makes one the other, but not mysteriously other. Nope, the dark skin is believed to be known, understood, and mastered. Dark skin can be interpreted not only as uniquely visible but uniquely suspicious and threatening. The racialized gaze imposes this storyline on unfamiliar bodies. The hoodie allows one to shut out those who gaze at you while also making one hyper visible and apparently more readable in the minds of the dominant culture.

Trayvon Martin’s last moments become transparent when we are honest about the racialized American experience that plays out over and over again. Zimmerman saw an unfamiliar black body and based off of his own words, he reinterpreted Trayvon as suspicious. Trayvon, just a child, adorned in his hoodie both blocked the direct gaze of Zimmerman and yet nonetheless became more victim to Zimmerman’s racialized gaze. Zimmerman believed that Trayvon was “they”, the other, who “always get away”, in reference to his belief that young black men had recently committed crimes in his neighborhood. Trayvon’s presence then is a disruptive presence for Zimmerman, and so he believed that he must be removed out of his gated community. Zimmerman took on this responsibility himself, convinced that he knew Trayvon. Zimmerman could not see a child terrified for his life before him because his racial gaze impaired his vision.

Let’s be honest, while I believe Zimmerman is guilty of murder and our justice system needs to respond accordingly, he did not create the racialization that is in our country, but rather he is a byproduct of hundreds of years of racism in this country. Since the 1600′s, people of European descent in America have been gazing upon the African, seeing only 3/5′s a person, uncivilized labor, inferiority, and danger in those beautiful black bodies. This impaired vision is societal. The hoodie in black urban communities in many ways is a response to the racialized gaze. We covered ourselves up and defiantly hid ourselves from view. We controlled who saw us and who didn’t. Yet the racialized gaze only grew. The hoodie reminded us simultaneously of the stereotypes projected onto us by the dominant culture andalso the rebellious spirit born out of the urban hip hop culture. It taught us to resist. So, the hoodie for me then has interwoven well with my embracement of the subversive prophetic tradition and my anabaptist leaning. Consider how Jesus often utilized and borrowed the revolutionary terminology of the Zealots, calling people to take up the cross. So too can we as Christians employ the hoodie with it’s hip hop subversive spirit to begin to challenge the criminalizing gaze that is fixed on black bodies in America. We can ALL cover ourselves with symbolic hoodies from the racialized systems and stereotypes that disrupt justice, by resisting with a faithful prophetic witness against hegemony, tyranny, and oppression in all forms as followers of Christ. 

I Am Trayvon!


Experiencing Racial Prejudice and Institutional Cowardice: The Deafening Noise of Silent Bystanders

14 Mar

An african american friend of mine from Messiah College, who has continued to live in central PA after college recently had a terrible racial encounter with an individual, followed by silence, apathy, and inaction by the establishment that he had visited. While I do not have time or energy to post every racial encounter I hear about (it would be a full time job), I felt particularly compelled to pass his experience forward to you because of the institutional response. Now, I will be clear, every institution has the right to ignore and not respond to racial prejudice, however, when they choose to take that less humane response, I believe it is Christian duty to expose the darkness, shaming both the original perpetrator and the non-action of the business. Marcus is one of the nicest, genuine, and coolest folks around. I applaud his decision to not respond with violence or other abusive words. His nonviolent stance, stands in stark contrast to the violent language of the individual and the business’ silent acceptance of such behavior in their establishment. We can not control what others do in our space, but we can certainly control how we respond to such behavior.

Here is his experience that he passed on to me yesterday (March 13, 2012) at TJ Rockwells in Mechanicsburg, PA.

I went to eat at a local Mechaniscburg restaurant TJ Rockwells yesterday evening. I ended up walking out without finishing my dinner because I had the most racist incident of my life happen to me. I was sitting with 3(white) friends eating a sandwich, when a gentleman yells, “there is a nigger in here.” He proceeded to call me a nigger a few times. Then he kept staring me down as I was trying to simply eat my dinner. My friend walked up and politely asked him if he called me that (just to make sure) and the guy says, “yes, I did”. He was rude to my friend and one of the servers tried to make my friend leave for standing up for me. My friend was very calm and we spoke to the manager who said he would talk to the guy. He did go speak to the guy and after talking to him (outside) he never came back to me to share about his conversation or to even offer an apology. I did see the gentleman eventually leave and his friends in the bar kept staring at me and said, “He’ll be back.” I didn’t want trouble so I left and called the owner, whom is at the Etown establishment. We explained the story to both the hostess and a manager at the Etown establishment and are expecting a phone call tonight. 

I spoke with the owner and he seemed like a decent guy but his explanation of the managers actions were not enough. He told me he spoke with the manager and he (the manager said) he did not apologize to me because he did not do anything wrong. He said it was the customer who made those comments to me so he saw no reason to give me an apology. This is not an acceptable reason to me and it saddens me that the owner has accepted this.

I am doing my best to share my story & inform people of what has happend to me. I will never eat at this restaurant again.

Dr. B. Sam Hart: A Tribute to my Grandfather

24 Jan

When I was little, I am told that on Sunday mornings after having been dressed up in my little suit and of course also wearing my clip on tie, I would find myself standing in the kitchen. There I would proudly hold my bible tight and proclaim “teachings of the gospel, teachings of the gospel”. I was imitating my grandfather, who happened to also be my pastor when I was a little guy. That story probably doesn’t surprise many who know me now, given my particular vocation and love for preaching. However, my current ministry ought not to be understood without considering my grandfather’s legacy. I stand on the shoulders of him, my great grandfather, as well as my own father as ministry is concerned.

My grandfather was born on April 8, 1931,  in New York City. He was named after B.M. Nottage and the prophet Samuel.  He attended Grace Gospel Chapel in Harlem, a church from the Plymouth Brethren movement, comprised of mostly Jamaicans and other West Indies populations who had immigrated from the islands to NYC. His own father who originally was from Jamaica, took his family back to the island to be a missionary and plant churches. My grandfather lived in Clowmill, Jamaica from 1932-1948.  His british and dignified preaching style can be rooted back to the british style schooling he received in Jamaica (Jamiaca was colonized by England).

Grace Gospel Chapel, Harlem, NY.

He returned to the U.S and to the assembly in Harlem as a teenager. In the 1950′s he attended Gordon College in Boston. My grandfather married my grandmother Joyce in June 1951. In 1953, while a junior at Gordon College, he had the idea to start the Grand Old Gospel Fellowship. His desire was to church plant strong biblically grounded black churches in urban centers. Roxbury Gospel Chapel in Boston was the first of many churches that he would plant. Upon invitation, he came to Philly to church plant. The first church was Calvary Gospel Chapel and was planted in West Philly. It continues to be pastored by Bro. Joe Ginyard who helped church plant that church alongside my grandfather. My grandfather would continue to plant several churches in the Philadelphia area and hand the leadership and oversight over to godly men. As Pastor Sam Butler (Montco Bible Fellowship) has mentioned, it was almost completely unheard of  at that time to plant churches and move on, and not have people call you bishop. The Grand Old Gospel Fellowship was officially formed in 1960 and was incorporated in 1961.

Dr. Tony Evans both responded to the call of ministry and served under my Grandfather as a young man. In many ways, much of the ministry he does now is directly an outflow of what he saw while working with the GOGF.

One of the notable accomplishments for my grandfather was that he started the first black owned radio station in Pennsylvania, WYIS 690 out of Phoenixville, and serving the black population in Philadelphia, PA.

Likewise, my grandfather was nominated to be on the Civil Rights Commission on February 9th, 1982. However, as I understand it, his views on homosexuality were too conservative, and therefore he was never actually elected onto the commission.

One of the people he partnered with in ministry and crusades was the late Tom Skinner, who also attended Grace Gospel Chapel in Harlem for a period of time. I know they had done crusades together in both Harlem and Jamaica, possibly other places as well. Skinner, is most notably known for being a black evangelical author and speaker who was outspoken on issues of race and justice as well as for being a great evangelist.

Tom Skinner (Back Center), Dr. B. Sam Hart (Back Right)

One of the ministries that were started by my grandfather was Hart’s Children’s Home in Jamaica, which cares for orphans from the island. Since then the GOGF has also started another home in India for orphans.

GOGF Ministries (current name) has a three-fold approach to ministry as an organization; Planting Churches, Preparing Leaders, and Proclaiming the gospel. There are currently 14 churches in the GOGF network. And the Grand Old Gospel Hour ministry continues to be broadcasted nationally, internationally, and online. While my grandfather has been declining in health, my dad Dr. Tony Hart has taken over the leadership of the ministry as President of GOGF ministries.

It was my grandfather’s crusades and the ministry of the Grand Old Gospel Hour radio program that put him onto the national stage. He was a long time board member of the National Religious Broadcasters and while he was still living he became a NRB Hall of Fame recipient for his national and global radio ministry. Thousands of people have been impacted by his ministry. Since his death I have had a lot of people sharing with me how my grandfather impacted their life.

While I am not as traditional as my grandfather was, I definitely stand on his shoulders. Likewise, I was reminded that my grandfather was actually not very traditional for his time, but rather was innovative in his ministry and vision. Similarly, his very calling and invitation to Philadelphia is the reason I am planted where I am. It gives me a different perspective on vocation and calling, and how I can take hold of the spiritual inheritance that has been passed on to me and make a difference in Philadelphia myself, in continuity with his original decision to move to the city, back in the 60′s.

I will miss my grandfather, but I will always remember my time with him.  I still smile when I remember seeing him eat pizza with a knife and fork, my grandparents taking my siblings and some cousins to The Ground Round to eat, and just spending time with him. He loved his Grand kids very much. We love you Grand Dad and we know that you are finally at rest in the Lord!

Picture with my grandparents with most (not all) of their grandkids and great grandkids

 

Funeral Arrangements:

The homegoing service will be held Friday, January 27, 2012, 11:00 am at New
Covenant Church of Philadelphia, 7500 Germantown Ave, Philadelphia, PA
19119. An opportunity to view will precede the service from 9-11am. In lieu of
flowers, donations can be made to GOGF Ministries, the ministry to which he
dedicated his life.
If you need additional information, please contact the GOGF Ministries
office at 215-361-8111 or admin@gogf.org.  www.gogf.org

 

 

Reality TV: Gotta love it!

9 Jan

I never fully understood the whole infatuation with reality tv until recently. However, since I have been watching many of these Republicans debates (missed last night, don’t spoil it for me) I have really enjoyed it. Seriously, between all the past and present characters and storylines, I have become addicted to following along. Some people are getting bent out of shape  over all the politics, but I just find it all entertaining.

Granted, if Trump, Cain, Bachmann, or Perry actually won the presidency I might actually consider moving to Africa, but barring that event, this has been a great year of entertainment so far. Unfortunately some of the most compelling characters are behind us, but we still have a few more fun folks on the metaphorical island, from whom we should expect hours of pleasure. Santorum needs to loosen up a bit, Romney is a bit robotic, and Gingrich seems like he just wants to eat me through the screen, but just watch and see, the season is going to end with a bang! Here’s to Reality TV, you can’t make this stuff up!!

My 2011 Highlights

31 Dec

2011 Highlights

My first and only son was born in February, 2011.

Completed my MDiv from Biblical Seminary.

Went to Kenya. An amazing trip, read past blog posts if you want to know more on that.

Read Race: A Theological Account, which was probably the most significant book I read this year.

James Cones The Cross and the Lynching Tree takes second place.

Donald Trump was entertaining.

Experienced an earthquake, hurricane, and got snow in October all in one year.

The world didn’t end twice and Harold Camping laughs his way to the bank.

The Occupy Wall Street movement exploded onto the scene but failed to gain mainstream acceptance from the 99%, especially Black and Latino communities that are affected most by socio-economics.

Herman Cain happened. (Need I say more?)

Bought a used Toyota Prius and save about $100 on gas a month? True Story!

Started dating the Mennonite denomination and officially refer to myself as Anabaptist.

Got rid of our cable. Sorry Comcast, Verizon, and Directv, but the cash flow is cut off! Can you say online streaming?

And 2011 was my last full year in my twenties.

I am looking forward to 2012.

Thanksgiving? (Repost)

23 Nov

Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays… it is centered most around family and food, two things I love dearly.  In addition, because of my family”s Christian heritage, we saw it fit to share what we were thankful for… attempting to embody this thing called gratefulness.  But is that really the right posture we ought to have as Christians towards Thanksgiving day?

The central issues that ought be considered have to do with history, memory, narrative, and power. As they say… the winner gets to right the history books.  In this case, it is a warm fuzzy story of indigenous Americans helping the Europeans through a rough start, and them sharing a meal. The picture in my mind just leaves me feeling warm and fuzzy all over.  However, what is not mentioned is that while the natives did in fact show much hospitality, the Western Europeans came and took everything from them.   It is a story of conquest, imperialism, colonization, disease, suffering, loss, and almost complete genocide.

I do not dare suggest that a heart of gratitude is always an appropriate attitude to have at all times.  We ought to be people that give thanks.  But we should also be discerning people who give thanks for appropriate things.  In this case, this “holiday” is a power move by the strong, to narrate history in a way that favors what was done.  I am sure that this holiday is seen as hurtful and insulting to many 1st nations peoples.

This would be like their being a holiday to celebrate how helpful the African indentured servants were in 1619 in Jamestown, and how appreciative the westerners were of their hardwork.  So because of this beautiful collaboration we are going to celebrate Unity Day through large festivities and parties.  If this did exist, I am pretty sure what position I would take in response.  So why is thanksgiving any different?  Well as I write I am heading off to church and then family to “celebrate”.  It must be our apathy towards others that allow us to ignore the sufferings of others.

….Never Forget….

Certainty or Confidence?

18 Nov

Image from science.howstuffworks.com

I was at Biblical Seminary yesterday, and ended up entering an interesting conversation with a Reformed student and an Anabaptist student there. Overall, we discussed some of the differences in the two movements, and why both are currently attracting people from various traditions. While we found a lot we could agree on (as individuals) we also agreed that in many ways the Neo-reformed and Neo-anabaptist movements were in many ways opposites of each other.

In the midst of this conversation, began to talk about faith. My reformed friend really wanted to use the “certainty”, while my anabaptist sister and I both leaned away from that term, and preferred terms like, faith, hope, belief, assurance, conviction, and finally confidence.

It may seem like semantics, but something is definitely distinct about those different options. I grew up in (and still currently attend) a church where they stressed that “you gotta know, that you know, that you know”. Sounds good right? But can we as finite human beings know anything with objective precision, as we sometimes like to claim, or is that unique ability only capable for the Obective One. As I have grown older, I have tended to agree with scripture that teaches that his ways are way above are ways, and that we can not even begin to fathom God fully, or exactly what he has and is up to (fully). Don’t get me wrong, I believe that God has revealed himself to us, particularly in his son Jesus. But I understand that my faith and hope I have is one that has been mustered up in a finite body. Furthermore, the scientific method can offer no means of assurance in matters of faith and God, which compels me to release words like “certainty” out of my theological linguistic categories, because it wreaks of scientific vernacular. I wouldn’t say that its usage is completely out of place, but rather it is unhelpful in many of our heavily modernity leaning church contexts.

Speaking only for myself, my faith in Jesus is not a result of certainty but of my genuine belief, conviction, hope, and confidence that I have placed in his birth, life, teachings, death, physical resurrection, and in his ultimate return. Does this distinction even matter?

Kenya: Who Am I?

21 Jul

In America black people constantly wrestle with racial identity. As a young black man I have to consciously resist the stereotypes of dominant society, as they attempt to define who I am. Likewise I have to resist dominant society’s portrayals of who they think I ought to be. While that is easily communicated on paper, actually walking the tight rope of identity is difficult. One of the most fundamental questions asked by all of humanity is “Who am I?”  As Christians we go a step further wanting to know who we are in Christ, and how do we reflect the unique aspect of the Imago Dei that has been imprinted upon us.

I do not want to sound cheesy, but being in Africa, spending time alongside my African brothers and sisters was a spiritual, psychological encounter that gave me an even deeper glimpse into myself. It wasn’t merely being in a context where blacks are the majority of the population, because I already have that in the neighborhood where I live (Philly). However, I think it was the knowledge of the fact that I didn’t have to worry about stereotypes or archetypes from white or black folk, but could comfortably be me without judgement. The racial climate doesn’t easily allow for  much of that in America. We must intentionally seek it out, even when it seems subversive to some who think we ought to all assimilate into one bland and uniformed cultural expression, disregarding the diversity created by God.  I believe that the better we truly know ourselves and who we are, the more capable we will be in ministering to others. Kenya was a timely gift.

Kenya: Four Kids and $25

15 Jul

One particular day while in Kenya, a few of us had the privilege of sneaking off the campus with Peter Odanga, the Word of Life Director, and driving up into the village in the hills. He would simply yell “candy” in Swahili as we passed by people’s huts and the kids would come running. We didn’t preach to them, all we did was give them candy, for which they were unbelievably grateful. From what I gathered, Peter does these runs about once a month, and I think it is his way of being a familiar face to those in that village.

We drove further along and then eventually parked, got out and begin walking through a field of high grass. On the other end of the field we came right into the middle of a families dwelling. Everyone was barefoot, a man was working hard on a piece of furniture I believe, and we were greeted very graciously by the women and children. They brought chairs out for us to sit down and by the time we were sitting the men had come over as well. Peter translated Swahili and English both ways as we spoke back and forth with this family.

During our discussion we eventually found out that four of the kids there were no longer able to attend school because they could not afford the school fees.  We asked how much it would cost to put them all back in school for the rest of the year. The answer was devastating. $25! The cost to put all four of them back in school again for the year was only $25. I don’t think my heart sank any lower my whole time there as it did at that point. We obviously offered to pay the fee and Peter said that it would be fine to do so. The family was so grateful, but I knew that we were only giving out of our excess, and we did not deserve the appreciation they gave. The head of the family actually climbed up a coconut tree and cut down several coconuts for us, chopped the tops off and served us. This was a humbling experience. It was one of those humbling and formational moments that a person can never forget.

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