Sometimes it’s a lot easier to be selfish and superficial than it is to be compassionate and selfless… especially when you don’t even know you’re doing it.
For so much of my life I sang worship songs and prayed with the sense that I wasn’t getting enough Jesus. With the most heartfelt desire I would worship… it was more of a prayer really; a prayer that God would just let me see Him or feel Him. I was well intentioned and beyond that I truly believed that that’s what it was all about; ME getting more of HIM. I’d sing “I want to know you…” or “you are my all in all…” or “open the eyes of my heart…” all the while being desperate for a glimpse, a touch of God and all the while having no perspective of how much of Jesus I already had.
I had no Idea how good I had it.
Today in my Adolescent Development and Family Ministry class a group of students presented their research on ‘sex trafficking.’ Their information was startling. Hundreds of thousands of children are sold around the world for sex or slavery. We watched a video of children in a brothel in Cambodia, being sold for the pleasure of old men; many from America. Watching their innocent faces and listening to their voices refer to oral sex as “yum-yum;” what did these children do to deserve this kind of neglect, this kind of treatment.
I walked away from class confused for some reason, perhaps because I felt nothing or perhaps by the very question of why. Right after class my friend Danny and I met with Ashley and we went in to chapel. I couldn’t get those poor little girls out of my head. I was lost.
As we began to go through the motions which is hard not to do when you go to chapel three times a week the son “we are Hungry” began to play.
We are Hungry,As we sang my thoughts left Azusa Pacific University, my own endeavors, my own wants and stayed with the children of Cambodia. I realized that in all those moments of singing in desperation; praying that I could have more of God I never really understood how much of Him I really had. I was sitting in a million dollar gymnasium, wearing new clothes, with a stomach full of great food, in a culture that still wants more. I’ve grown up in this culture, the more culture, where nothing is really enough and if I’m not driven or making progress or getting higher on the food chain then I’m not even alive. This culture has infiltrated the Church and now in that moment I realized that it had left me not as an exception. I still, with all that I have, want more. Look around you… do you not see Jesus, do you not see what God has done? What kind of clothes are you wearing? Are you sitting in a air conditioned room? A heated room? Is there not food in your stomach are there no clothes on your back? Did you shower this morning? What did you eat today? Do you know if you’ll eat tomorrow?
We are Hungry,
We are Hungry for more of You.
We’re not hungry, we’re not poor. We eat or drink at will and at times we decide not to. How can a country that starves itself, though it has an abundance of food in order to look good or indulges itself beyond its health ever say it is hungry? Today I understood why Jesus wept.
Jesus didn’t weep because He lacked hope. Jesus wept because He felt the pain of His friends who were mourning.
As I sat in my seat, mumbling those words “we are hungry, we are hungry…” I was, for the first time in my life, longing not for the touch of the God who’s touched me so, but to feel the pain of those who really are hungry. I wanted what no one could logically want; to weep as Jesus wept on behalf of those whose pain is beyond what I will ever feel. My prayer this morning was not that I could have more but that the pain in Cambodia would be relieved. I longed to stand in their place, the dark places of the world not with arrogant declaration of some abstract answer to all the problems of the world but to wrap my arms around the least of these and bear their pain. I sang on their behalf.
The poorest children in America are among the wealthiest people of the world. Their lives are hard but it shadows in the light of the hardship of the least of these.
If you can just stop and look around you you’ll see how much of God America already has. Could it use more? Of course, if for nothing else to teach what to do with how much we already have.
On behalf of those who hunger we sing “we are hungry for more of You.” If the rich could relive the pain of the poor with only the empathy to try, would there be enough?
This morning my heart wept for the least of these, the marginalized, the slaves, and the oppressed with the pathetic tears of understatement due to a lack of understanding, lack of perspective, lack of empathy. If only the tears of the first on behalf of the last were adequate to relive their pain there would be far too few tears.