Facing Our Fears or A Call to Action or The Kamina Project
by Taylor Walters
Winter/Spring 2005/2006
(These are the notes I've been using when speaking with congregations
this winter/spring. I've given several different versions of this
talk, depending on the season and setting. I'm sharing this
version with you because it's the most informative.)
Most of you I am meeting for the first time. As mentioned in my
introduction, I was raised by a preacher and a teacher, and I turned
out to be a bit of both. I chose to concentrate both my studies
in International Development because I wanted to absorb everything the
global community had figured out about the hows and whys of senseless
suffering in this world and what could be done not simply to give
charity which temporarily alleviates sufferings, but to fulfill the
Micah 6:8 commandment to seek justice, love kindness, and walk humbly
with God.
My appointed task as a missionary is not to evangelize, at least not in
the traditional understanding. I leave that to local church
leaders who, in Congo, are growing church membership faster than they
can build sanctuaries. But in another sense, I am an evangelist,
and at least half my evangelization work is right here in
Indiana. I want everyone—here, in Congo, and the world—to toss
off the weight of resignation and understand—no, be ignited with
passion with the revelation that we can transform the world as we know
it. We are living in an amazing moment in human history where the
end of extreme poverty is possible—all is takes is for enough people to
decide it’s time to be proactive. It’s not just the idealist
dreamers saying this. It’s coming from the mouths of world
respected economists and think tanks from all over the political
spectrum. It’s time we start thinking and acting like we really
believe the Gospel messages. That we can move mountains.
And that we are mandated as people of faith to seek justice for our
brothers and sisters.
Before I preach too much, let me back-up and share a bit about the
history of where I work, The Democratic Republic of the Congo.
The Congolese people often say they are cursed. Going back to
colonial days, Congolese have suffered at the hands of those wanting to
exploit their land’s wealth. First it was the ivory and rubber
obtained through slavery and other atrocities. Over the years, Congo’s
diamonds, copper, uranium, and other riches have continued to call out
to the greedy. Our own government helped Mobutu Sese Seko, a
cruel dictator who amassed billons while neglecting and oppressing his
people, stay in power for over three decades. Our military stepped in
to stomp out attempts to overthrow this dictator. In exchange, we got
access to Congo’s riches and a pledge from Mobutu that Congo was
anti-communist. Its uranium went into our bombs. By the
late 90s, Mobuto was no longer useful to us, and we stepped aside to
let him be overthrown by a rebel army backed primarily by Rwanda.
The new leader was quickly assassinated when he refused to bow to all
of Rwanda’s wishes and his son, Joseph Kabila rose to power.
Now most of you know something about what went on in Rwanda in the
90s. You may have seen Hotel Rwanda. The Rwandans claimed
that they were invading Congo to capture the criminals from that
genocide who were in Congo and building armies. Once Rwanda
arrived though, the temptation of the Coltan mines were too much.
Coltan—that’s the new black gold needed for the chips in our cell
phones and laptops. Next thing you know, twelve African nations
were sending troops into Congo in this massive land grab. Over 4
million innocents died and countless more tortured in the
process. You might have seen some of the women survivors on Oprah
last spring. I’m telling you all of this to make it crystal clear
that Congolese aren’t suffering because they are primitive or have too
many ethnic rivalries. And we cannot ease our minds with excuses
of “they’re used to living simply.” No one gets used to torture,
hunger, disease, or grief of loved ones cruelly taken from them. The
decisions of the politicians we elected—both republicans and
democrats—and the cell phones you and I bought added fuel to this
fire. Our own ignorance and inaction greatly contributed to this
horrific tragedy. Perhaps Congo needs to be sending missionaries
to us.
But see, this is also good news. We can’t say what would happen if the
world community rallied to support the Congolese in having a prosperous
life because it has never truly been tried. Luckily, in the
North Katanga Conference, we have Congolese church leaders showing us
the way. Thanks in part to the leadership of United Methodist Bishop
Ntambo Nkulu, Congo’s most recent war stopped before reaching Kamina,
the town where I live. He helped calm the panic by expanding church
projects in areas not yet attacked. He made pastoral visits to
lowly soldiers and the head of the military base and set up chapels and
chaplains there and at the police camp, treating them not as enemies
but as his flock. He served as moderator in the 2004 peace talks
that have resulted in a calm in most areas since then. Kamina’s
success is so well know that even the country’s president has contacted
Bishop Ntambo about using the town as the Congolese Camp David.
The people of North Katanga have faced fears. They’ve experienced
the horrors of war, lost homes, fields and loved ones. They know
what it’s like to see their life’s work destroyed, and their savings,
if not lost through theft, lost through inflation. They know
hunger. Most survive on one meal a day. And yet, like the
phoenix, Kamina is experiencing a rebirth. The markets are alive
and crowded. New businesses are opening. When the thousands,
including pastors and church leaders from deeper in the region who fled
for their lives reached Kamina, the UMC in Kamina was there to help
distribute the food and supplies sent up by the United Methodist
Committee on Relief and other aid agencies. And when it was clear
that hundreds of these newcomers were orphans, visionaries in the
church created a way to give extra assistance to families that took in
these children and started a home for those who had no extended
relatives to adopt them.
Today the South Indiana Conference through Metro Ministries is
partnering with the North Katanga Conference in The Kamina Project, an
initiative to further support the brave and innovative people of Kamina
in their efforts to bring economic and spiritual prosperity to their
communities. I ask that you, your congregation, and your
community organizations join in this movement through your financial
support and by spreading the word.
Fear is a funny thing. We will go to great lengths to avoid what
frightens us. We will stay in unfulfilling jobs, toxic
situations, avoid seeking justice, and suppress our God-given talents
and calling. We will settle for a life that is just good rather
than a life that is powerful and amazing. On the other hand, fear is
big business. We spend so much money on movies, rides, and
experiences that promise to scare us. What’s up with that?
When people ask me about how I ended up in Congo, it is easy for me to
explain how my family has been friends with Bishop Ntambo Nkulu and
involved in Congo since I was a kid, that I’ve felt called to work
there for years, and that the war prevented me until last year.
But the truth is, it was not the real dangers of death or disease that
had delayed me; It was the fears I invented.
Sure, as a teen I was ready to go out and eliminate unjust poverty in
this world, but I was discouraged by what I learned in college.
Case studies of development projects backfiring. Of international
politics and big corporations undermining economies. Of war and greed.
I concluded, just as Paulo Friere did back in the 70s, that no outside
expert will ever understand the subtle dynamics of a community as well
as those from it. That even if the outsider had a good idea for a
project, it wouldn’t succeed unless the community embraced it as their
idea and their project. And that, ultimately, the solutions to a
community’s problems must come from that community. What, then,
was my role? I feared I had nothing worth contributing or worse,
my work would be added to list of development blunders.
In addition to that, I feared the world of the unknown and making
myself vulnerable. Of following a gut instinct, leaving friends,
family, and paychecks. Of <gasp> asking others to
financially support my work.
My opera coach gave the best advice I’ve ever received about facing
fears. She pointed-out that stage-fright and exhilaration are
basically the same thing, physiologically speaking. Thus, there
is no reason to fight your fear—let yourself enjoy it!
It took what I now see as multiple interventions from God to make me
see that my fears were ridiculous. That stepping into the unknown is
thrilling. That trusting in the generosity of others and
receiving it creates an incredible feeling of love and support. That
knowing that I have no business creating development projects in Congo
is liberating; I get the great fun of encouraging, assisting, and
publicizing what others are doing. See, Paulo Freire and everyone
since who have been committed to transforming communities didn’t stop
at “the community has to save itself.” They figured out that
behind every great answer, there is a great question. They
created an entire discipline of transformative education around the
science of posing great questions and encouraging local leadership to
invent the solutions. And that’s a huge part of what I get to
do. I get to have lively conversations with young adults in the
community about what to do when they graduate college and find that no
one is hiring. I get to celebrate when my new friend gets
inspired after watching the Matrix with me. Perhaps he is “the
one” to transform his community. So he runs for president of the young
adults at the church and wins. Then he dreams up a learning
garden at the children’s home and gets the young adults to help him
build it. Then he decides to form a cooperative farm of young
adults and gets twenty to sign-up!
Recently someone told me he admired how I was willing to live at a low
standard of living in order to help others. Hmm... Well, I
don’t have a t.v. in Kamina, so instead I walk over to the children’s
home and play with 48 orphans until bedtime. There isn’t ice
cream, but there is beans, rice, fried plantains and sweet potatoes,
greens cooked with tomatoes onions, garlic. Roasted peanuts. Grilled
cassava root dipped into homemade guacamole. Sweet oranges.
Freshly baked bread. I get to bike to work. Listen to live
concerts. And am participating in one of the impressive community
transformations in Congo—perhaps in Africa. Every day I get to
stop and think “Dang, this life rocks.”
You know, there’s this strange belief that answering the call that God
places on our heart—that voice that says don’t be so attached to what
you have—go and transform the criminal justice system or move to an
impoverished area or start an eco-friendly company—that that voice is
trying to cajole us into a life of suffering. The rich man who
came to Jesus wanting access to the Kingdom of Heaven didn’t understand
the opportunity he was being given. His life was good, and he was
a good man. He obeyed all of God’s commandments, but he sensed
that something was missing. Ok, said Jesus, if you really want to
enter the Kingdom of Heaven, if you want to experience life at its most
amazing—to feel the thrill of being completely connected to the world,
get rid of all that stuff that is holding you down. Get rid of
the Chia pets and Longeberger baskets that are collecting dust.
Get rid of the books you never read, the junk in the garage and the
clothes that are just taking up space. Sell it and give the money
to the poor. In fact, stop attending those social gatherings and
meetings that leave you feeling empty. Give it all up.
Then, come with me and I’ll take you on a real adventure.
You’ll see things you never thought possible. You’ll feel fully
alive up until the moment when you leave this life for the next.
What a great offer! But the rich man, just like us, was too
scared to take it.
Every so often there is a moment of intense opportunity—a moment where
you just know is the end of an era, and start of something yet to be
determined. The stars have aligned for Kamina. The fighting
has subsided. The economy is growing. Our farmer-field school’s
cooperative farms are taking off. My generation—the ones who think
about double majoring in farming and computer science is coming of age.
A group of them, who I call the dream team, just graduated from Africa
University in Zimbabwe and have been appointed to key positions in the
conference. And I get the great fun of working with them in my role of
coordinator of the development department. This December,
the Congolese, voting for the first time since independence in 1960,
passed a new Constitution and are preparing for a presidential election
this spring. We as Micah 6:8 Christians must turn the world’s
attention to this moment so that it cannot be lost.
I’ve never been very good at names. Growing up as the preacher’s
kid, I quickly invented faking techniques, but nothing can replace the
real thing. There’s something powerful about hearing our own
name. I’ll never forget the day when Calia, a toddler I used to
nanny, called out “Taylor!” upon waking from her nap. While I had
always responded to a cry of “mama” and “dada” because it was my
duty to do so, “Taylor” elicited a prompt response. She was
calling for me.
While Calia’s cries were only heard by me, Kitty Genevieve’s were heard
by many. Attacked and left for dead in courtyard in New York
City, she yelled for about an hour, and yet no one responded.
Researchers attributed this to the phenomenon of “diffused
responsibility.” They heard a call for help, but didn’t think it
was for them.
It’s the stories like that really get to me. Diffused
responsibility. I think conquering that is the key to the Kingdom of
Heaven.
So this today I’d like to challenge you to seek justice, love kindness,
and walk humbly with God. That call—that ministry that God has
placed on your heart—respond to it. And when you do, let
those fears exhilarate you. And know that it’s going to be an
amazing ride.
Amen.
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