The world we live in. The world we don’t.
Recently while working Disaster Relief in Marshalltown, Iowa, we stayed a few miles out of town at “The Ranch”. Red barns, a bunkhouse, horses in the pasture and goats in the barn were all part of a beautiful, peaceful, quiet, idyllic setting. I went into town and shopped at clean, attractive, crowded stores. That’s the world in which I lived.
Less than five miles away, an F3 tornado had cut a 1/2 mile wide path for 4 miles in downtown Marshalltown. This was an industrial part of town, dominated by affordable housing and rentals. Trees were down, roofs destroyed and houses were made uninhabitable. People were displaced. Several of the plants and factories that were the lifeblood of the community were destroyed, resulting in much uncertainty about the future. People wondered, “Will I be able to rebuild? What about my job?” Anxiety abounded. That’s the world in which they lived.
Our chainsaw volunteers went out into the community with boom lifts and skidders to cut trees off houses, clean up debris, and place blue tarps on roofs. They were among the destruction but it was not their community.
Several displaced families shared “The Ranch” with the volunteers. One lady and her daughter stayed in one room along with several cats, a couple of pet white rats and a long-haired guinea pig. Crowded in another room was a family of 5 with two teenagers and an elementary aged boy. The teenage boys’ father was deployed to Afghanistan. The boys’ stepfather, a one-hundred percent disabled vet, was also in the room. Their home was moved off its foundation, the windows were blown out and the roof leaked. So far they haven’t been able to “Blue Tarp” it. The landlord had not filled out paperwork for Federal-aid or Insurance. This was quite a contrast to my world and probably a contrast to yours. I slept at night in a warm bed after eating way more than I should. I will sleep in safety not worried about my future, not worried about what I will eat and drink tomorrow. In my world, I simply take for granted all those things. I don’t even check to make sure my Social Security and retirement income have been deposited. My life is filled with certainty.
Were the people that had their houses destroyed and their future put at risk evil people? Does that mean that I deserve to live in my world but they are not worthy? I don’t think so. What is the difference between me and them?
It probably means that I am simply fortunate—lucky, whatever you call it that I did not live in the path of this tornado.
I am here to try to help these people. For a brief time, I entered partially into their world. Not fully because I do not get filled with anxiety—downright scared really– when a thunderstorm comes up as they do. My future is not threatened because the factory I work at was blown away. I did not come home to find a huge red X on my house -meaning it had been condemned. I am not looking for a place to stay along with all the others who had been displaced. I won’t be confronted by a lack of available housing for everyone in need.
There is a thin line in cases like this between destruction and things going on as before. One block is intact. The next is destroyed. There is but one block between life in their world and life in my world.
Am I arrogant enough to think I am spared this because of whom or what I am? I hope not. We try to help but the pain and heartache are too deep.
It makes me wonder what I should be doing in other parts of this planet where people are not as fortunate as I am. Where there is not enough food, where life is unsafe and uncertain, and where people are persecuted for their religion. That is their world.
In my world, I have escaped bombs, bullets, persecution and hunger. Those are things that have not been a part of my world. In my world, I expect food, shelter, safety and freedom.
Is it that in America we feel we deserve the things we are blessed with and they do not? We don’t believe that but sometimes we tend to act like it. We act like it by not being concerned about their plight, their world. Out of sight, out of mind. We respond with emotion when we see pictures of starving children. We are moved when we see hospitals destroyed and people living in tents, when we hear of Christians being persecuted. But are we moved enough to do something or do we simply take “the good life” as something we deserve and they don’t? After all, they are used to life like that, aren’t they? Their children’s death does not affect them as deeply as the death of our children would affect us. They are used to their world.
What if I had been born to Muslim parents, in a territory controlled by ISIS? What if Paul had gone east rather than west into Macedonia and Greece with the message of salvation? History would be different. I would be different.
I should fall on my knees and acknowledge that I did very little to deserve the “world I live in”. That I am fortunate beyond measure and look with deep compassion on those who are forced to live in “their world”.
If I am a follower of Jesus, I should ask God those questions.
Jesus did and chose to enter My World, a world in which he was subjected to rejection, danger, pain and death. His choice. It brought change to my world.
in light of Jesus what should be the reaction of his Followers?