"Our job is to expose injustice so it becomes so uncomfortable that people have to respond."
I heard this quote spoken last weekend at a conference for people ministering in the urban setting. There were 200 of us gathered in Bangkok together to pray, discuss, and share about God's heart for the city. His desire for justice, hope, peace, and joy in a place where girls spend their youth believing they will simply grow up to sell their body on the streets, where boys hide in alleys sniffing glue, where men refuse to become fathers, and women live their entire lives believing they have no worth.
We discussed these areas of darkness and pain, but we also shared the seeds of hope: the places where Gods light has shown forth because His children refused to look away anymore.
We visited the Klong Toey slum in Bangkok, the oldest and largest slum, where about 100,000 people call home. It was a visit that my mind will not forget, with pictures of people crammed into places like I have seen before. But I also won't forget the glimpses of hope-
Like this family- who can now have a substantial income from making and selling sushi, after receiving a micro-loan from a couple who refused to turn away:
And the glimpse of home found within this coffee shop, located in the slum, employing their neighbors and providing a safe place to come:
Another quote I heard this weekend was that ministry, bringing hope to people, "is all about relationship. Mission in the city has to be personal. We have to know names. It's about building friendship."
We do projects well. We plan out-reaches and kid's programs, we raise money for good causes, we even collect food and clothes for those in need. But do we live a lifestyle of valuing relationship, of being available?
I confess: I don't.
I do my work and ministry when it is time, but outside of that time, I still walk quickly on the street past the woman and her baby who sit begging in the same spot day after day. Maybe giving money isn't the best answer and maybe I don't know what is, but I can still ask her name. She is worth that.
An, my friend from the Klong Toey slum, is worth that.
And you know the funny thing? The quote at the beginning of this entry was said by Shane Claiborne...from Philadelphia.
He wasn't talking as someone who has come overseas to minister in the slums. He is a guy that refused to look away to people with names down the street from him...in America.
So I'll ask you the same thing he asked us this weekend: "What would it look like if God's kingdom came into your neighborhood? And are you willing to let Him use you to do that?"
