How's the Fishing, Peter?

A river of energy flows through Mid-town Manhattan, a veritable Class-5 rapids of elite shopping and upscale destinations. From The Plaza and Central Park issues a cascade of luxury; Versace, Ferragamo, Cartier, Van Cleef & Arpels down fabled Fifth Avenue. Discerning shoppers come to test their skills in landing the big purchase. But there amidst the glitter is another fisherman, plying his trade.

Pastor Peter, as he calls himself, threads the van down the same street looking for a vastly different target. He looks for the huddled and the broken; the disenfranchised and the down and out. "They are transitory," he explains as we troll, "the homeless can't stay in one place for too long because it can be dangerous for them. But I know where to look... we'll find them."

And there, in the side eddy's of the river called New York, forgotten by the famous and bypassed by businessman, are the derelicts of our society. Here on a church stoop, there in a public atrium, this is where Peter the fisherman looks for and finds his catch. "Could we give you a blanket sir? And a sandwich? My name is Pastor Peter, and I'm here to tell you that Jesus loves you."

Cardboard condominiums house migrants, strangely consumer-like in their preferences. "I need a 36 x 30 jeans, those 38's are too big," one man informs. No matter; the need is met with a smile and Pastor Peter, like the clerk in the Armani store within a stone's throw, enobles the man by honoring his request. A hug, a joke shared with "Ray Charles" on his way to Atlanta, massive glasses hiding sad eyes and old pain, form the conversation on this fishing trip. Two old women in a shelter, safe for the night but shattered by life and left shells of what selves they once knew... these are the sights that will haunt.

The New York many know, with it's pulsing rhythm and spinning lights, flows on long into the night. But the swirling pools deep with human pain linger on for me; reminders that the sites I thought I knew, held a deeper truth that belie the wealth on display. Etched now forever in my mind was "Able" asleep under the phones in Port Authority, so far from living his name as if to seem a joke...an obscene joke. Able...now with a blanket. And a prayer.

And Peter the fisherman, showing eager students the good fishing holes, continues as he has for 25 years now, convinced that Able can, and Able will, rise.

As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men." At once they left their nets and followed him. Matthew 4:18-20

Manzanas y Puerta Abiertas

I like being on time. I like meetings that run on time. It's an OCD (obessesive complusive disorder) thing. So when our team found out last minute that we were going to lead a worship service for a Hispanic men's rehab center instead of going to a soup kitchen, I twitched a few times, but smiled. When we arrived "late" only to find out that we were 2 hours early for our slot, my smile waned a bit thin. But then when i discovered we'd left the lunches for the team back at the headquarters, well... I thought we'd reached a closed door for the day.

But God had other ideas. Because Sister Anna Villafane and the fantastic people at "Way Out Ministry" in the Bronx have specialized for 42 years in opening doors for those who seem trapped by circumstance. Their precious staff shared their lunch with our students, and allowed us to restart our time of sharing with them. Jorge insisted on giving each student an apple (manzanna) and before long a comradarie connected folks who seemingly had little in common with one another.

But then three students shared stories from their own lives of how God had opened doors to release them from drugs, alcohol and violence in their own families. A student with a Puerto Rican background stepped in to translate many of the truths in culture-transcending power. The meeting ended with the men sharing how they saw open doors in education, in transforming their minds through the truth, and in giving their lives in service to others, as they saw the students modeling.

The 'way out' will of course take more than good feelings and intentions. Doors will open to new tasks for these men as they are mentored back to sobriety. But for a day, students and residents shared apples and open doors, sure that there was hope ahead.

The Missionary Impulse?

This op-ed by Timothy Egan in the NY Times raises legitimate and important questions about the ill-fated plans of the so-called "Kidnapping for Jesus" case of Laura Silsby. At best, her plans to facilitate adoptions from the beleaguered country of Haiti were naive and unrealistic, given her resources. At worst, they were manipulative and opportunistic.

Yet painting with the broad brush of "cultural imperialism" the author succumbs to tired romantic liberal sentiment. The "noble savage" and his pristine untouched culture and religion should not be disturbed, in this ideology. Yet this ignores many indigenous practices most would consider not so pristine--like "sati"--the burning of widows in Hinduism, or "FGM" (female genital mutilation) in tribal cultures of Asia and Africa. Does Mr. Egan claim "cultural imperialism" when the World Health organization and the UN bans FGM in their work?

As I take a team of students to New York City to express care and concern for those in less fortunate circumstances, this story takes on new meaning. What gives us the right to impose our beliefs on others? Is the "missionary impulse" inherently culturally violent? Some suggest that the "mini-messiahs" who descend upon poorer areas would do better to stay home and send their money to help the truly informed make a real difference. Are we on a fool's errand?

First, one cannot ignore the historic context of Western Christianity and the "Crusades." One's faith should be expressed through the heart, not the point of a spear. Christians should remember that their religion spread originally through generosity, service to the poor, and the death of its founders in persecution. Humility is the prerequisite for any missionary. On the flip side, however, it is naive to imagine that any area's "indigenous" culture is in itself pure or undiluted. Rather, they are the result of millennia of interaction and intellectual trade. Mohammed himself was influenced by both Jewish and Christian ideals,while Buddhism was built on a foundation supplied by Hinduism. Is this necessarily imperialism? New York City doesn't need any mini-messiahs... but humble servants, willing to be changed as they share love and practice understanding? That may not be so bad...

Not so Fast...National Pancake Day

I'm headed up to New York City Saturday with a team of students and leaders, and I sense that it is going to be a significant time. And all the hip-techno types around me (I'm tragically unhip) tell me I must chronicle this trip with pictures and timely words. So back to my neglected blog.

And something else... a FAST. Yikes. Technically, I'm not supposed to tell you I'm doing that, because Jesus warns religious people like me not to announce their religious activities to others in order to appear more spiritual on the outside than they are on the inside. But the whole reason I'm sharing this is because I DON'T feel particularly spiritual inside right now.

Mostly that's because I'm looking at a stack of PANCAKES Free pancakes Free IHOP Pancakes

It's my wife's fault... (ha bet that one doesn't work) because she sent me with the boys to take advantage of National Pancake Day So there I sit, with tummy rumbling louder than Pooh bear, and a free stack of fluffy hotcakes in front of me. (my Scotch-Irish heritage would not allow me to skip ordering a free stack to take home for the rest of my family). And I begin to say to myself, "Its for a good cause, Leukemia and Lymphoma Society would love for me to eat these pancakes."

"Not so fast," I said to my rationalizing self, "you're on a fast!" All I could smell was batter and syrup. My head was beginning to spin. "What is the big deal about giving up food anyway? God knows we need to eat."

And so I reviewed with my self the whole point... fasting sets apart a time and a person for a special purpose; specifically, God's purpose. Like it says in a record of the early Christians, "Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them." ³So after they had fasted and prayed, they placed their hands on them and sent them off.

Giving up food for a time helps me to focus on the work I have been called to do... in this case, share love and care for homeless and needy individuals in New York City. It reminds me that I am truly dependent on God, though normally I take care of basic needs myself. As my stomach gurgles I determine again to pray, and to set myself apart for God to use. And I vow silently, solemnly, I will celebrate National Pancake Day in my own special way, NEXT WEEK.

Haiti Relief work

Following Tony Cece and David Darg in Haiti

by David Darg

PORT-AU-PRINCE – We’re in! After a struggle to reach Port-au-Prince, Tony, our video producer, and I were finally able to get two seats on a plane from the Dominican Republic. It was a tiny “4-seater” and was so full of relief gear that it tipped back on its tail before we took off.

Approaching PAP airport was a hairy experience; planes were circling the airport like a swarm of flies. The pilot asked us to keep an eye out for other aircraft and at times we had to do ’stomach in throat’ maneuvers to avoid crossing paths. After 3 aborted landings because of runway traffic we finally touched down and work commenced.

Our Haiti National Director, Eric, met us and took us over to a light aircraft hangar that will serve as our base over the next few days.

The first thing we needed to do was secure water and food for the team; it was extremely hot and we would have become dehydrated very quickly, and a sick aid worker is useless. We also needed to secure more vehicles as our relief efforts are set to quickly expand over the coming days.

We left the relative security of the airport and ventured out into the streets of Port-au-Prince. We were instantly met with horrific scenes as injured Haitians were lining the pavement desperately trying to receive medical attention almost 68 hours since the quake hit.

At a visit to the UN compound for a coordination meeting, I saw another glimpse into the horrendous pain of this quake when we drove past a huge emergency tent full of quake victims struggling for life.

Many Haitians on the streets are wearing coverings over their mouths and noses to hide the pungent smell of death that lingers in the air. People are carrying belongings along the streets in suitcases or on their head. There seems to be quite a migration of people from what is left of the city.

Every day the humanitarian situation grows worse for the survivors.

In the heat, people are desperate for water and that is causing them to drink unsafe water from wherever they can find it. We saw some small children bathing in and drinking a muddy puddle. As the desperation among the survivors grows, so does the anxiety and frustration.

There is a very real concern among aid groups of increasing violence and theft on the streets, but today the streets were calm for us and we can only hope that as the relief efforts ramp up, the tensions will drop.

This has been one of the most difficult launches to a disaster that I have experienced and that is due to the severity of the quake coupled with the lack of infrastructure. But the delays at the airport are a sign that the world is reaching out to Haiti like never before.

Huge C130 Cargo planes have been arriving all day long from the U.S. and tonight some of those planes were being used to evacuate hundreds of American citizens. Cargo planes from other countries such as Israel, Mexico and Canada were dropping massive piles of food, essential relief items and rescue teams.

The Spanish rescue team that we have been shuttling into the quake zone came back with disappointing news that they had only found dead bodies today and most rescuers are suggesting that due to the intense heat it is very unlikely any more survivors will be found.

Saturday morning, Operation Blessing will be delivering our first batch of essential medicines to the hospitals where work is still continuing around the clock to save the lives of injured victims. We are expecting the first team of Israeli doctors to arrive from our partner IsraAid, and as soon as they hit the ground we hope to have them working.

We have 5 water purification units en route from the U.S., each one capable of purifying 10,000 gallons of clean drinking water every day. We did an assessment in a badly damaged neighborhood on the outskirts of the city and are gearing up for emergency food distributions and medical clinics staged out of a damaged primary school that is out of commission for the near future.

I just ate a U.S. military Ready-to-Eat meal (MRE) and hope to sleep soon. My mat and sleeping bag on the hangar floor will not be too uncomfortable, but huge cargo planes roaring down the runway just a few hundred yards away might make for another long night.