How do you like my house?

This morning I woke up thrilled to have gotten a solid four hours of sleep but completely unaware that the day before me would prove to be one of the most momentous days of my life.  Today we visited the slums that have arguably made Calcutta so famous.  Just when I thought I had seen poverty in its purest form, we took a giant leap into a whole different echelon. I should warn you in advance that I am a sloppy mess today.  My hard heart finally broke today and it spilled itself all over the streets of Calcutta.

First, we headed to the program site where several hundred bright-eyed children greeted us, fifty of whom do not have sponsors yet.  Almost all of the children at this site are from the slums.  This group of children brought me unspeakable joy.  My heart hurt when we had to leave them.  Check some of them out.

After playing with the kids, our team then set out for our home-visits in the slums.  During the home-visits we go along with several of the Compassion children and we survey their living conditions and listen to their stories.  Most of all, we get to inquire to our heart’s content about how Compassion’s child sponsorship program has changed their lives.  So, we parked our van and huddled around Spence, as he warned us with unusual sobriety that we needed to be extremely careful taking pictures in the slums.  We were informed that had the Compassion India field staff not accompanied us, we could have been in danger walking in the slums.  So, with this slightly unsettling piece of information, we made our way through and we saw unimaginable things right before our eyes. 

People half naked bathing with filthy water on the uneven and trash-infested streets.  Pre-teen prostitutes with painted faces hanging out of a door in the red-light district just to make as little as 50 cents per “job”.  A six-month old infant lying alone on a bed in a shack without any supervision *for the entire day* since both his parents are out working daily labor jobs and living desperately from hand to mouth.  These are the kinds of things people try to keep themselves from admitting actually exist.  But they do.  

Seven out of ten of us climbed and packed ourselves into the home of Kiran Mallik, a precious twelve-year old girl who melted all our hearts like butter.  The other three couldn't fit.  It was the tiniest little shack I have ever seen, if you could even call it a shack.  It was considerably smaller than a twin bed.  A family of five lives in it.  Here is Pete bending over to look inside:

One more time in case you're skimming this post, a family of five lives in this shack.  It certainly isn't the filthiest of the shacks we saw in the slums but we were hard-pressed to understand how five people could even fit it in at one time since we were all kneeled down very uncomfortably.  And then we found out that some of the family actually sleeps on the streets at night because there simply is not enough room.  Here is a picture of Kiran standing outside her house.  Look at her smile. Talking about stealing the heart of you.

 

We kneeled around and listened to Kiran tell her story through a translator.  Her beaming smile and joyous spirit were enough to distract from the oppressive heat.  She told us about how she loves to study, how much she loves Jesus, and how she wants to be a teacher someday. 

And then she asked us, her guests, with a genuine smile on her face as though she was taking us on a tour of her mansion:

“How do you like my house?” 

Can you remember what it felt like to break up with your first love? Okay, now multiply that by about a million.  It was like a dagger in my heart.  I didn’t just want to cry.  I wanted to completely lose it.  But I joined in with the rest of the team, who were likely feeling the same way, and we all said, “We love it.  It is beautiful.”

And I thought of the times that I’ve told my husband I don’t want to have a certain couple over to our apartment because our dining room table isn’t big enough.  I thought of the times that I’ve been “ashamed” to invite friends into our home because it isn’t fancy enough or we don’t have enough chairs or our sofa isn't comfortable enough.  The countless times I've complained about the paint color on the walls.  

There I was.  A Compassion sponsor. Being mentored by a Compassion child on what is really important in life. I realized that we often assume people are completely hopeless just because they don't have the material wealth that we deem necessary for a quality life. But sometimes those who are in the most difficult circumstances know best of all where to find hope.  Kiran sure did.  She had hope because through God's grace via Compassion International she has a safe place to learn, to get a hot meal, and to hear more about Jesus.  

Two seconds away from completely losing it: 

I’ve often wondered how an average middle class American becomes a social activist.  I think I’m beginning to understand.  I’m not saying that I am one.  I’ve already admitted, I’m just not that brave.  What I am saying is something similar to what N.T. Wright said in Simply Christian, “The world in its present state is out of tune with God’s ultimate intention.”  Today as I walked through the slums in Calcutta something rose up with protest in my soul with a resounding “NO!”  This is not the way it is supposed to be. 

 “The cry for justice in the world, then, must be taken up and amplified by the Christian church, as the proper response to the voice of the living God.  The gospel of Jesus Christ and the power of the Spirit indicate that there are ways forward…Christians should be energetic in advocating and pursuing that justice for which all human beings long and which burst upon the world, in a fresh and unexpected way, through Jesus.” (N.T. Wright, Simply Christian, 228)

When I was asked to go along on this trip to Calcutta, the honest truth is that I wasn’t jumping out of my skin with excitement.  I really was too busy at work to be taking a week and a half off and I knew it would put more stress on me when I got back.  But here was the rub: I was studying James 1:27 at the time.  You know that really inconvenient verse that defines true religion before God our Father as looking after orphans and widows in their distress.  The way I would apply this verse is that we are to look and care for the most vulnerable people groups in our local communities and of our world at large.  There was no denying that the children in the slums of Calcutta qualified as some of the most oppressed and vulnerable people in our world.  I’ve learned a whole lot about James 1:27 from reading commentaries, periodicals, and whathaveyou; but I will tell you that I have learned just as much if not more about the scope of the verse from actually entering into conversation with the real flesh and blood reality of poverty and social oppression.  From actually touching the children from the slums and being touched by them.  

Today one of the children grabbed my hand and when she let go, I didn't want her to.  In that moment I felt I needed her as much as she needed me.  The Scriptures are too profound just to read in isolation of the real world. They must be read and lived.  To be interpreted correctly, they must be performed.  The gospel of Jesus Christ is too big, too cataclysmic, to be left on the page.  They should burst forth from our reality.

Tomorrow is the big day when we get to meet our sponsor children! Please do check out the posts from my fellow bloggers.  Actually, they are no longer just my fellow bloggers, they're my friends.  A special bond has been forged. They are people who have dared a selfish coward to stare into the face of poverty. People who are willing to face the reality of a broken world, to have their hearts torn apart, and then to use whatever is left of it to usher in the kingdom of God here on this earth. 

With Love,

Melissa