What are you doing here?

Do you remember the story of Elijah fleeing into the desert in fear after he was threatened by Jezebel?   He was a stressed and fearful man. The first night he stopped to rest under a broom tree and an angel of God provided him with food to sustain him on the journey which took him another40 days until he came to Mt. Horeb where went up on the mountain and lodged in a cave -  It was there that the word of the Lord came to him with the question “what are you doing here, Elijah?” and Elijah was told to go out on the mountain and stand before the Lord.

Then came the powerful wind that smashed rocks and trees… but we read, God was not in the wind; then the earthquake that shook the foundations of the very ground upon which he stood; then the fire – and only when it was quiet – in the silence – there was a light whisper … sometimes said to be the still small voice of God , and Elijah again hears the voice of God.. “What are you doing here Elijah?’ 

This is a good question –not only “what are you doing here, right now?”  but also, “What are you doing Here – with your life?’

I’d like to share with you three short snapshots from my own experience with the fire, the earthquake and the wind. 

Snapshot #1.  Fire

1967.  It’s early morning in a small village in the highlands of Vietnam.  Tension is in the air, people are scurrying down the usually quiet street that passes by our house. We inquire and find that a battle has erupted in the hills a few kilometers from town… We see people rushing out one end of town while large military trucks full of soldiers of the local militia.. made up of young Koho tribesmen, is speeding out the other direction toward the battle.   

The Koho people have suffered much from this war… and these are the people we have come to serve.  

We hear the deafening blast of big guns on the hill above us and small arms fire in the distance.  We go to a hill at the edge of town to observe.  Later screaming  jets fly overhead that drop their hellish load of napalm that creates great fire balls and the inferno consumes everything in its path. Then on the horizon we see dozens of helicopters advancing toward us and we hear the familiar “whop, whop, whop,” of the choppers ferrying more combatants to the scene.

The sounds of war and chaos continues throughout the day – but strangely, with darkness comes an eerie quietness… interrupted only by occasional bursts of gunfire from a jumpy sentry.  We sit in our house feeling vulnerable; praying and wondering about the death and destruction of this day, one single battle amongst many of this terrible war.  This was the silence after the fire – when God speaks to our numb and fearful hearts   The question comes to me from within… “what are you doing here, Jerry?   I barely hear the tentative response..  “you are here for a purpose”. 

And so the next morning I get up and step into the day to see what can be done… I go up the hill again … and there I see one of the military trucks returning, now with a gruesome cargo of bloodied bodies of Montangard soldiers - 30 - 40 of them… And I hear another sound of war… the awful wailing and crying of mothers, wives and children..   Maybe my purpose now is simply to be here.

 

The war was frequently nearby the normally peaceful village where we lived causing great disruption and suffering for the people - both Vietnamese and tribal.

Our team offered comfort and direct aid as possible to the Koho people - Here Betty, a Canadian public health nurse visits a Koho family with a sick child.

Snapshot #2.   Earthquake

Christmas, 1972.  We hear the news report as we drive down a street in Minneapolis. A huge earthquake has leveled the city of Managua, Nicaragua… thousands may have been killed, more injured and tens of thousands of newly homeless fleeing the burning city. We had experience with earthquakes before, in Peru.  Soon a call from New York… “will you go to Managua and mount the response of the churches to this huge humanitarian disaster?”  

Arriving a few days later I am driven from the airport through the rubble and wreckage of a destroyed city and in the coming days my heart is overwhelmed with the plight of so much human loss and pain – During those first days and nights I rush around trying to coordinate in the midst of such chaos. 

Then, sometimes in the quiet at night when I awaken to another tremor of the earth,  the only sound I hear is the beating of my fearful heart within.  Again the question comes in the silence - “what are you doing here, Jerry?  

 And in the light of day, as I join with a dedicated group of Nicaraguan Christians, we proceed on… slowly but surely mounting our response – “We are here to be Your hands, O Lord – give us strength and sustenance for the journey ahead".  

 

 Together we build an organization for service to the people of Nicaragua, an organization that has lasted until this day.

In Latin America an earthquake can bring down thousands of buildings in a matter of seconds. This is the destroyed city of Huarmey, Peru, where I worked. This earthquake, May 1970 killed over 60,000 people.  The Managua earthquake of December, 1972 killed an estimated 28,000. In complex humanitarian emergencies the Church needs to respond quickly, but more importantly accompany the people to rebuild long after.

Snapshot #3.   The Wind

1974: Hurricane Fifi, one of the most devastating hurricanes to ever hit Central America, devastates  the north coast of Honduras.  We were living in Nicaragua at the time and when we heard the news of this disaster my friend Peter said, “let’s load up the van with as many bags of rice and beans as we can carry and head up there”.  

 We did just that. But when we saw the destruction that the wind and rain had wrought on the lives of tens of thousands of people we are a bit overwhelmed.  We knew our offering was tiny in comparison to the need.  But we already knew that - that wasn’t the point.   

By this time in our life’s work we had had enough experience with wars, earthquakes and grinding poverty to know that what was most needed was to stand alongside people after the storm, or in the midst of poverty and say we were there to help… not just an immediate response and quick fix, but for the long haul.  We tell them that it will not be easy, but we are here to accompany you and your churches and communities. "You can count on it". 

Honduras is one of the poorest countries in Latin America.  The Church has accompanied the poorest of the poor through long term projects such as those of Lutheran World Relief and Heifer International, two of the organizations I had the good fortune to work for many years.

Finally, a thought about living our faith boldly, but at the same time with humility.    

Sometimes the prompting of the Spirit calls us to confront the overwhelming needs of the world and we may feel like retreating and going into a cave.  It is probably a normal and good thing to be wandering around in the wilderness for awhile –times when we listen to discern God’s purpose.

 But, as in the case of Elijah, we may need to find that quiet place of rest (under a broom tree), and in the silence after the storm ask God direction and courage to move ahead. We will need

sustenance for the journey ahead. Whether facing the storms and fires of an humanitarian disaster or a personal crisis and need, or that of someone we know, we still can hear that question, "What are you doing here?"

When that question came to me so often, “what are you doing here, Jerry?” – the fact was that God already knew the answer to that question… but God may have been putting me to a test to struggle with the question myself and articulate my own response, and then, with the leading of the Spirit, move into the future to do God's work the best I could. 

Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and YOU WILL FIND REST FOR YOUR SOULS.… Mathew 11: 28,29