Garbage

There’s no such thing as garbage collection for communities such as ours. So it all just gets thrown into the canal. This is one of the garbage bottlenecks of a neighbouring community.


Now of course I don’t blame my neighbours for dumping their garbage into the canals. After all, industries dump their waste there. Why should the poor do anything different?

And while the damage to the environment caused by dumping garbage like this is in some ways pretty obvious, out in the open and staring right back at you, I also realise that as a westerner living in a society insatiably hungry for consumer products and energy, my environmental footprint has undoubtedly been far higher than theirs. Surely I must deal first with the plank in my own eye.

Nevertheless, although this is the community system, I really don’t want to add our own trash to it. Luckily, within a 10 minute bike ride (cycle that is), is the local dump, which I usually pass at least once per week.

I do not rate riding past the dump one of the highlights of my week. To breathe through the nose is to invite a pungent stench. To breathe through the mouth is to invite an insect snack much in the manner I imagine a whale feeds on plankton.

You should have seen the looks on the dump workers’ faces when I first rode up to hand deliver my back pack full of garbage! I’ve been told we’re the only foreigners in this whole region of the city, and to see me doing that was probably the most baffling thing to have happened around there in a long time.

But hopefully as well as delivering our garbage I can also start to get to know some of the people working here. They're doing some of the worst work I can imagine (young kids included). I.e. wading through the trash amongst the pigs, cows, dogs and crows looking for anything recyclable to salvage. It really breaks my heart to see the children there.

So, let’s together find ways to go against the grain of the societies we’re in to care both for our neighbours and the environment. I’m sure the ‘groaning creation’ (Romans 8) will appreciate it! And we might even see some small but beautiful, mustard seed like ways in which the harmony that God made for us to have with each other and all creation will one day be made new.

Prayer for peace

Lord, make me a channel of your peace,
that where there is hatred,
I may bring love;

where there is wrong,
I may bring the spirit of forgiveness;

where there is discord,
I may bring harmony;

where there is error,
I may bring truth;

where there is doubt,
I may bring faith;

where there is despair,
I may bring hope;

where there are shadows,
I may bring light;

where there is sadness,
I may bring joy.

Lord, grant that I may seek rather to comfort than to be comforted;

to understand than to be understood;

to love than to be loved;

for it is by forgetting self that one finds, it is by forgiving that one is forgiven, it is by dying that one awakens to eternal life.

Amen.


- Commonly attributed to Francis of Assisi (prayed daily by Mother Teresa)

Puja and the streets of K-town

We're currently in the middle of Durga Puja, the biggest annual festival here. It goes on for several days with the city lit up a bit like Christmas back home, only much more so. But very differently, right throughout the city there are scores of 'pandals' set up and beautifully decorated. The pandals are big temporary structures that house the idols, which people come to see and to do puja in.


The thing to do during Durga Puja is to spend the whole night out pandal hopping. Walking through the city to see the pandals that is. A couple of nights ago I took the opportunity to go out with a few guys from our community to see the pandals. We started at 7pm, took the train down to the south of the city and spent the next 9 hours or so walking home, visiting the pandals on the way. It was quite the cultural (and tiring) experience!

I think spending the night walking through the city during Durga Puja showed me some of the best and worst of K-town. The place was lit up beautifully. A festive and generous spirit was in the air. Ladies were dressed in beautiful new saris. The colour and life was energising.

But then walking the streets through the early hours of the morning also showed vividly other sides to the city. For kilometers we passed those forced to sleep on the pavements, under sheets of plastic, or on the small wooden carts that will then be turned into little street stalls in the morning. As we came to the north we passed through the main red light district, and saw girls 'on the line' waiting for their next client. Many of these girls have been trafficked and sold into slavery in the brothels. Some of those hid inside are just young girls.

The beauty of this place is breathtaking, the brokenness heart breaking.

On the whole the depth of spiritual thirst and searching among the people here is way ahead of what it is back home. And apparently the goddess Ma Durga's name means "one who can redeem in situations of utmost distress". Maybe this has something to do with why her puja is the most celebrated here?

But I am afraid that is an empty promise held out to so many who are right now in utmost distress in this place, offering their petitions to Durga.

The true quencher of thirst and redeemer of those in utmost distress is hardly known in this city. May the light of the one who proclaims good news to the poor, freedom to the captives and sets at liberty those who are oppressed shine in this place.

A different kind of canal living

We’ve now moved into our new home in a K-town slum! Our family’s been on a journey of downward mobility for a while now, and it is good finally to be here, living with the poor.

A few years ago, during my ‘past life’ as an engineer, the company I was with sent me interstate for a 9 month stint on a project I was working on. One of the perks was that they put my wife and I up in a very nice, 3 storey villa with its own private jetty on this canal.


I must admit, living there for a while was pretty sweet. We could drop a couple of crab pots off our jetty and enjoy fresh crabs for dinner. There was a beautiful and scarcely used beach about 3 minutes walk around the corner. For these 9 months we lived in the playground of the rich. The wealth and man-made beauty in this place, built exclusively for the leisure of the rich, was incredible.

Now, 5 years later we find ourselves again with canal front property.


But this time our canal has been built not for the leisure of the rich. It’s their industrial toilet. Throughout the day the water can go from black to deep purple, blue or green depending on what is being dumped by the factories upstream. At least a couple of times a day huge cakes of foam made of who knows what float down. The banks have been claimed not for exclusive getaways, but by the poor. They have made their homes on the marginal land useful for nothing else. Sometimes our neighbours refer to it as the ‘canal’, other times as simply the ‘drain’. We’re currently in monsoon season and just this week a flood brought this lovely concoction right into the homes of many of our neighbours.

Our canal also carries all the garbage and sewerage from our community as well as others in the area, since there are no organised systems to serve these communities. This is the case even though there’s a sewerage treatment plant and local dump both within about 10 minutes walk. But these do not exist to serve communities such as ours.

The contrast between the playgrounds of the rich and the dwelling places of the poor should not sit lightly with us. Surely these things should prompt us to ask some deep and sobering questions about things like justice in this world, how God feels about it all, and the response he calls us to.

Finally, there’s one more canal I’ve been thinking about recently;

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. (Rev 22:1-2)

What an amazing new creation we have to look forward to. And what a beautiful contrast God’s river of life is to both the canals of the rich and the poor. He doesn’t create it just to serve himself. And instead of carrying all manner of waste and dealing sickness to the poor, God’s river is a carrier of life, a grace from him of healing to the hurting. My prayer is for the life giving river of God to flow amongst us, bringing healing to the many forms of brokenness present both in the slums of K-town, and us all.

Calling prophets of hope

As part of the process of finding our long term location in the city we’ve been visiting slum communities. Sometimes we’ve been introduced to communities through contacts that already have some relationships there. Other times it has involved walking through a community, stopping to chat when invited to, learning what we can about the community and about whether it could be a place for us.

On one occasion we accompanied a local urban poor worker to some of the slums she works with, and were invited into a small family home (one room around 3 metres square). After a bit of a chat we were asked by the local worker if we had any questions for the lady of the house. I did have one, and was saddened by her answer. I asked her what dreams she had for her children.

She responded by saying she didn’t really have any. The only hope she did have for her children was that they might be able to work doing something, anything, to survive. Generations of her family having been trapped in inescapable poverty has robbed her of any hope for a better future for her family.

One of the basic principles of community development is to seek to understand the hopes, aspirations and priorities for change that the people have, rather than imposing on them your outsiders’ perspective. But what about when years of grinding poverty has crushed people’s spirit, and they can no longer bring themselves to hold on to any such hopes and dreams?

I’m not entirely sure. But one thing I’m reminded of is the sacred role of what Walter Brueggemann has called ‘The prophetic imagination’. That is, being present with an oppressed community, seeking to kindle a small fire of hope. To walk with them, helping them to imagine and give voice to the kinds of healing and justice God desires to bring. We see this kind of ministry through the Old Testament prophets, and then especially in Jesus as he proclaimed and demonstrated the arrival of God’s reign, which includes very good news for the poor.

Certainly when appropriate we can communicate our great hope in the consummation of God’s kingdom of justice, peace and righteousness at Jesus’ return. But what about hope for right now, for this life? I feel that the raising of such hope is not to be done lightly. That could be a cruel exercise. When a family’s history, the prevailing social and political structures, and in fact everything around them seems to shut down any prospect of change, do we dare plant seeds of hope for the here and now?

I'm sure that we should, as the God I know certainly cares very much about healing, restoring and extending his reign in the here and now. But this would require prophets of hope not just to kindle dreams, but to dedicate themselves to living cross shaped lives within and for their community. To pick up the servant's towel in whatever ways are appropriate in helping them realise their dreams and God’s vision for a better future.

My new name

I’ve decided to take on a new name, a Bengali name. And it is, (drum roll please)...

“Sotten”, pronounced Shot-ten, written as সত্যেন. It’s a Hindu name that means truth. So in this part of the world that’s how I intend to introduce myself.

So why do I feel the need to take a new name? There are a couple of reasons.
Firstly, as I’ve introduced myself to Bengalis using my English name, the response I’ve most often had is something like a slight tilting of the head and scowling of the eyebrows as they have tried (unsuccessfully) to pronounce it back to me. The sounds do not roll naturally off the tongue of a native Bangla speaker.

Secondly, I think taking a Hindu name is a small something I can do to communicate something important. Let me explain.

Generally when Hindu’s have decided to follow Christ in this part of the world, that decision has come along with a big break from their culture and social networks. Most have essentially left their place in society, and often their families to assume their primary identity within the Christian/church community. Among other things this involves adapting to “Christian” (i.e. read western) forms of worship that are very alien to the Hindu culture, and often also taking of a western, “Christian” name.

To join the Christian religion here you need to get accustomed to its culture, which unfortunately carries with it a lot of western baggage. The result is that the new Christ follower is seen not only to be giving their allegiance to Jesus, but also as forsaking their family, heritage and traditions. They often change their diet and appearance, and are seen as abandoning their cultural identity. This usually causes immense heartache to Hindu families and subsequent hostility towards the gospel. Abandoning the Hindu community is far more offensive to Hindu families than any new doctrine that has been believed.

So it is that Christianity is perceived as the religion of foreigners, and the leaven of a new disciple of Jesus is removed from the lump of the natural Hindu community.

One of the things I’m really keen to explore is how to worship and follow Jesus in ways that more naturally express many of the beautiful facets of this culture. Much discernment will be needed, and the leading of the Spirit essential. But by choosing to take a Hindu name and find ways to worship that are more natural to my neighbours, I hope something will be communicated to them about the God we love and serve. He is not a westerner, but also loves their culture, desiring to be worshipped through it just as much as through any American, Australian, Jewish, African, Chinese, or any other culture.

A mustard seed in Dhaka

I saw this mustard seed through a Bengali man; very small in stature, soft and simple in speech, walking with a limp. We met last weekend at the church we’ve been attending here in Dhaka. My wife noticed he rarely has anyone to talk to, and so a friend and I went over to have a chat. We got to hear a little of his story.

He’s been following Christ for about 6 years now, having previously been Muslim. Upon advising his family of his decision they beat him severely, kicked him out of the family and will now have nothing to do with him.

Along with a friend of his he has started a small, simple school for poor children who couldn’t otherwise have the opportunity. Each day he serves around 40 young kids, while by night he earns money through private tutoring to help enable the school to run.

His face lit up as he described how he has learned to speak of Jesus and how he has seen God touch people’s hearts. I doubt my new friend will ever be known among the movers and shakers of mission, development or education. His work may well remain very small and inconspicuous. But such is the nature of a kingdom that Jesus spoke of; mustard seed and yeast like.

God is at work in this place in what look like small, sometimes barely perceptible ways. But from mustard seeds grow large trees and from a pinch of yeast a whole loaf is leavened. Every now and again I hear and see something beautiful such as this. God is in this place. He is touching lives, and a different kind of kingdom is breaking in, in a different kind of way.

Loving the beggar

Living in a place where everyday we interact with people begging from us on the streets has grieved me, stretched me, made me feel very uncomfortable, raised many questions in my mind and caused me to reflect. How does God see this? How should I feel? How did Jesus show love to those begging on the streets when he walked them himself? How should I?


There are many complex issues and questions involved, which I do not pretend to fully understand. Nevertheless, I thought I’d still share a few thoughts and reflections:

• It grieves God that people are living in poverty such as this, and it should grieve me too. Seeing this kind of brokenness everyday can cause a certain level of desensitisation in me. But God, who sees every iota of pain in this world is not desensitised to human suffering. In fact he has entered into it, experienced it himself, and so identifies like no other with those who suffer. I need, on an on-going basis, to allow my heart to be broken by the things that break his.

• Lament in the tradition of the Psalms and prophets is quite lost on us today. We don’t like to dwell with sorrow, but usually prefer to move on quickly to lighter, more encouraging topics. Sometimes what we want from our interactions with poor people is to leave with our conscience clear, feeling okay about doing our bit to help. But maybe we’re not supposed to feel okay. Maybe we are supposed to lament... for the plight of people we meet, the brokenness of a world that puts them there, and our part in it all.

• What I see around me is not the end of the story; I need to cling to the promise of a time coming when “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying nor pain anymore.”

• People reduced to begging have their dignity robbed. Just being in such a position of powerlessness and dependency is dehumanising and humiliating, but the way they are so often treated makes it even worse.

On one occasion when a lady came to beg from me, a security guard who saw the interaction came over, started yelling at her and hit her with his baton. It was made very clear to her that she was a worthless intrusion and embarrassment that was bothering the respectable white man. But she is a beautiful person loved by God and made in his image. So how can I interact with people in a way that confirms their inherent dignity and value as image bearers of God?

• Some people will hire a baby to carry around for the day. Some will feign injuries to arouse compassion and make more money. Others really do have malnourished young children they are trying to care for, or debilitating injuries that make it impossible for them to work. Some of those who beg are children who have grown up knowing no other way.

• Many beggars will turn their takings in to their boss who “owns the street”. They will only see a very small amount of the money themselves.

• While there are times when simply giving to supply material need is what is needed, it’s pretty clear to me that in the long term just handing out money is far from the best way to empower the poor and help them become the people God made them to be.

• Jesus would stop to show compassion for those who begged; who were ignored and marginalised by the ‘respectable’ people in his day (Mark 10:46-52). He also commanded us to “give to the one who begs from you”. Surely following him includes adopting a similar posture of compassion, interest, openness and generosity to ‘the least of these’ on my path?

• But it is impossible for me to give to, or try to interact well with everyone who begs from me.

• The business of restoring a broken world is God’s. While he has a part for each of us to play in bringing healing, I need to leave to God what is God’s, seeking out the life and works he has prepared in advance for me. I am not Jesus and should not get around with a messiah complex.

There are no clear answers. Many questions remain. We can lament, hope and pray. May we be led by the Spirit in showing the love of Christ to the people around us, and may his grace cover our many failures to do so.

Bricks anyone?

A couple of weekends back our team managed to get out of Dhaka for the weekend. We took a four hour ferry ride down to Chadpur; a large village south of Dhaka. It was nice to get away for a retreat, and I was very interested to see a bit more of Bangladesh from the river. While the scenery definitely got greener the further we got from Dhaka, I was quite amazed at the first hour or so of the journey.

For what I’d guess would be around 30 km, lining the river was what must have been hundreds of brick kilns (along with ship yards).



One of the things about living in Dhaka is that you don’t really see much in the way of blue sky. On a clear(ish) day the sky is a kind of light grey with blue tinge. And it’s nearly impossible to get sunburnt. Even though it’s extremely hot in the summer, apparently the UV rays are mostly blocked out by the air pollution. And now I see another of the reasons why. With so much traffic on the roads and industry like this (with I’m guessing not the tightest pollution standards) it’s not too difficult to get a sense of why the city is smothered by its emissions, and the lungs of its inhabitants pay the price.

Dreaming Dreams

One of the things we’ve done as a team recently is each share our dreams, passions and sense of calling. It’s been very encouraging to hear the dreams and passions God has been giving each of us, and I'm sure the balance and complementary nature of them will definitely enrich us all.

So I thought I’d share some of the dreams and passions I feel God has been placing on my heart. And having condensed them down into a few bullet points, some of my dreams for K-town are;

• For my community to experience the Lordship of Christ (for more on what I mean by that check out my earlier post Setting out). I want my poor neighbours to know the love, justice, opportunity, dignity, grace, peace and family of the kingdom. And in serving my neighbours I want always to be sensitive to following both the Spirit’s lead and the community’s agenda (i.e. rather than impose on the community my westerner’s perception of what needs restoration, I want to understand from them their hurts, frustrations, dreams and priorities, and work with them on those rather than just on what seems important to me).

• Now for a string of M-jargon... I’d love for there to be movements of national, incarnational, wholistic and contextual ministry to the urban poor in K-town and beyond! In other words, I’d love to see local followers of Jesus living with the poor, and ministering Christ to the whole person in culturally appropriate ways. It seems pretty clear to me that ultimately it needs to be through nationals that the gospel is extensively ministered here, but I’m also encouraged that there seems to be a role that outsiders may be able to play in supporting and helping to catalyse such ministries.

• For there to be models of discipleship and Christian spirituality that demonstrate following Christ is not a bideshi (foreigner’s) religion. Christianity is understood here as the religion of foreigners, substantially because the very foreign Christian culture of the west has for so long been exported along with the gospel. But Christ needs to be seen as the fulfilment of this culture’s destiny, and followed as the Spirit leads in more natural expressions of the culture. So I’m keen to come along side local followers of Christ and explore more contextual models of discipleship and spirituality.

• For unjust structures that keep the poor oppressed and marginalised to be challenged and transformed in Christ to more closely reflect the values of the kingdom.

• For the spiritual forces of evil at work in the city to face opposition, losing their influence in the lives of people and systems as the reign of Christ is extended through communities and the city.

• For growth in unity, cross fertilisation and prayer amongst followers of Jesus in the city, and in particular urban poor workers.

• For me, our family and team to live lives and rhythms here that enable us to drink deeply of God’s grace and presence, sustaining and nourishing us in life and ministry.

Someone once gave me the advice to dream bigger dreams than you dare to think could possibly be achieved in your lifetime. Well most of these dreams are just so much bigger than me, and very clearly not things I/we could possibly accomplish. But all things are possible for God. And so to the extent that any of these dreams are consistent with His plans, and His plans for my life, then I would rejoice to play whatever part in it all He has for me.

An evening at the cha-walah's house

I've been a little slow to blog about this, but wanted to share about an evening we had at our cha-walah friend's house about a week ago.

Every morning on the way to language school we pass by a cha-walah (a guy with a tea stand) on the corner near our building. We often stop there for a 5 taka (8 cent) cup of cha, and soon sparked a friendship with him. Then a couple of weeks ago he invited us around to his place for dinner.

So one evening three of us met him at the spot he sells his cha, and got rickshaws most of the way there. After paying the rickshaw-wallahs he led us on a nice walk past a lake and through some poor commnunities before we arrived at his home. It was great to be finally at least walking through some poor communities, and seeing not just brokenness but life! It's a real contrast to the part of town we're staying in for language school. Children happily playing simple games on the pavements, running up with enthusiastic greetings and following along beside.

When we finally got to the cha-walah's place they pulled out all the stops for us.
After kicking off with some fried snacks and cha, we then went up to the roof for some stumbling (and at times hilarious) Bangla conversation, to escape the heat since we'd lost power, and to get a better look of the neighbourhood. It was a bit surreal to be up there, amidst a poor community, looking out over the area, with calls to prayer ringing out through the city, and some much welcome rain starting to fall and cool the air. Definitely made us look forward even more to settling down in a poor community in K-town.

We then went back downstairs and watched our friend's wedding video. Midway through, one of the cha-walah's friends who had dropped by blurted out, "Oh, where are my manners, will you come to my wedding?" A wedding invitation from someone you've just met - you won't get that in the west!

Soon we were served an amazing (and pretty spicy!) Bengali meal...fish, chicken, beef and vegetable dishes, heaps of rice, and mishti (sweets) to finish. (It was a little embarrassing when my nose started watering). They then showed us some of the family's special garments, and also invited us for a trip to their village sometime. When it was time to leave our friend found us rickshaws to get home and called later to make sure we arrived safely.

There's no doubt that when it comes to many facets of community and hospitality, we have much to enjoy and learn from our asian friends. Luckily we will have the chance to practice when they come over for a meal with us on Friday!

Story time

This week each member of our team has been having one night to tell their story. After we listen to our friend’s stories we then have a time of prayer and listening for any words of encouragement the Spirit may wish to give us for them.

What a blessing it has been both to be able to share my story and to hear those of my team mates; to be heard and to listen, to pray and be prayed for. Our lives have led us on very different journeys. God has been shaping us in different ways, giving us varied gifts, similar but also unique passions and dreams. And now our lives intersect as we begin to walk together in community and mission. I’m excited to ponder what may spring from both the richness of our diversity but also commonality of vision.

Telling our stories has helped us know and appreciate one another more; our joys, our sufferings, our brokenness, our passions. It’s been very encouraging to get a glimpse of how God has been at work in each other’s lives, how he has spoken and revealed himself to us in varied ways, and used both our blessings and trials to mould us into the people we now are.

Highly recommended for any community that wants to know, understand and love each other more!

Setting out

As we set out on a new phase of journeying with the poor, I thought I’d start by reflecting a little on my vision for life and ministry in K-town (while knowing that any specifics around these are still a bit like looking through fog).

But one of the things I do know for sure is that over the past few years as I’ve been drawn into wholistic ministry among the poor, coming to grips with a vision of the kingdom (or reign) of God has been so incredibly crucial and helpful.

Vinay Samuel writes that a wholistic ministry based on kingdom theology of mission, centred in the rule of Christ over the whole of life, seeks to impart a community with the values of the kingdom and the spiritual challenges of the kingdom. It recognizes that enabling people to experience Christ’s Lordship is the key to wholistic ministry.

I think he’s onto something pretty profound here. According to Samuel, key to wholistic ministry is enabling people to experience the Lordship (or the reign) of Christ...and I think he’s right. So this gets me dreaming about some ways in which Jesus could wish for us to help give people a taste of his Lordship. A few wonderful aspects of his reign that come to mind are:

* When freedom is secured for those in bondage

* When those who are hurting find healing

* When peace and reconciliation come to broken relationships

* When those considered dispensable by their society are valued and given back their dignity

* When opportunities for land rights are made available to people with no such hope

* When the wisdom, talents, gifts and beauty of the poor are given expression and contribute to the richness of our common human experience

* When dignified work is available to all, and when those who cannot work are lovingly supported by their community

It seems to me that as my neighbours are touched by aspects of the kingdom such as these, then perhaps the good news of a new King who orders his kingdom with love, forgiveness, justice and peace, might make a little more sense.

But what might any of this actually look like in my K-town slum, in the face of seemingly overwhelming needs? I don’t know.


I have so much to learn from my neighbours. I want to see God’s beautiful image in them and how he is already at work in their lives. Where will the Spirit lead? What will the dreams of my neighbours be, and how will we best be able to serve and partner with them?

So many questions and unknowns. How in need of prayer, wisdom and the Spirit’s leading we are.