The Virus

Here's something I learnt during Summer holiday.
Church.
I had known that Church is not a building; it is not made of bricks and glass.
I had known that Church is not an organization; it is not made of hierarchies and structures.
I had known that Church is not an event; it is not made of praise and worship and sermons.
What I had known, I know more now.

What is Church?
Church is a reformed convict playing parent to other convicts, guiding them and protecting them in a Godfather manner they understand.
Church is a young woman going to urban slums to teach poor children to live and learn, in between their work begging and busking in the streets.
Church is a rural pastor trying to make an influence in his Hindu neighborhood, understanding that his congregation is more than the believers meeting every Sunday in his house.
Church is a group of young people living in the same suburban house, each trying to make ends meet through various ways and sharing Christ whilst doing so.
Church is a pack of kids breaking every Saturday night, giving them a chance to communicate the truth where the people are at.
Church is a bunch of elderly and not-so elderly people, most of whom shunned by their families for their faith, led by an irreverently funny young minister.
Church is people, each a minister and a leader in their own right, ministering as a kingly priest in their own natural working and living environment, which they call their 'congregation'.
Church is people, driven by a purpose and fueled by grace.
Church is alive.
Church is in motion.
Church is growing.
Church is contagious.
Church is a virus.

Invisible Holocausts

In the morning after Christmas Day last year, 2005, three cities in the Indonesian province of Aceh -along with other coastal cities in Sri Lanka, Thailand, India and other countries- were decimated by a gigantic tsunami resulting from a tectonic earthquake under the Indian Ocean. The victims in Aceh alone were estimated at more than a hundred thousand dead and hundreds of thousands of people displaced. It was arguably the most disastrous natural disaster in recent memory.

The international aid that came to soothe the unbearable wounds of the victims came at an unprecedented level. Within two weeks of the disaster, countries such as the United States, Australia and Japan, had promised financial help of hundreds of billions of dollars, on top of the medical and other professional assistance that they were already giving to the affected countries. A summit was held, suggested by Singapore and attended by UN Secretary General Kofi Annan.

I was in Bali when the disaster struck, and whilst there I witnessed on television how thousands of volunteers immediately signed up to give their help to clear Aceh of rubbles and decomposing bodies. I could not help but be shamed and embarrassed by the speed and willingness with which people both local and foreign were so eager to help the Acehnese. I was embarrassed by my own unability and even lack of will to do the same.

The history of humanity has been marked many times by such events when multitudes of human lives were extinguished seemingly without sense or logical purpose. The two centuries which our generation has lived in have witnessed perhaps more of these events than any other. The twentieth century can never be retold apart from any mention of the Holocaust. The twenty-first, at least at this moment, even at its infancy, has witnessed this disaster.

Yet at any time, other, more invisible holocausts are taking place. They take the form of such things as the destruction of young lives through child prostitution in Bali, poverty-induced mass hunger in Africa, and the numerous deaths due to gunshots and drug overdoses in gangland America. There are countless other examples of destroyed lives. As I think about this world -this f***ed up world, in Bono's words- I feel that I stand accused of indifference or even participation, directly and indirectly, in these holocausts. The victims of these holocausts may not only die physically; slowly and painfully, their very minds, souls and their very will to live will first be starved do death. And then, they will physically die. Alone. Hopeless.

Faced with more than a hundred people dead and hundreds of people displaced, I could almost feel that I mentally froze. I felt shamed that I, a follower of Christ, could not and would not ultimately do anything to help. Let us then pray and take action that this same shame does not tarnish the Body of Christ in the eyes of the world when they turn to wonder what we have done about the invisible holocausts that are happening in their midst.