Haiti Missions Trip Recap 03: Now the Circle is Complete

It’s been about two months since my missions trip to Haiti via the Lott Carey Baptist Foreign Missions Board.  The memories are forever etched in my mind as are the faces of families that were blessed by God through our efforts.  The video clips recently uploaded to Lott Carey’s YouTube channel have inspired me to write one last time from a more personal angle than previously shared on this blog.  For those who don’t know…

Both of my parents are from Haiti.  So, although I was born in New York City and am a U.S. citizen, I am also 100% Haitian-blooded.  I was raised in a Haitian-American section of Queens, NY named Cambria Heights which to this day remains predominantly inhabited by persons of Haitian descent.  According to the wisdom and providence of God, He saw fit to have me spend my high school years in Port-au-Prince, Haiti’s capital city, between the years of 1988 and 1992. 

The first few years were extremely difficult for me.  I remember even when boarding the plane from JFK with almost every stitch of clothing and possession I had, I was still in denial about the move to Haiti.  I could not come to grips with the idea of moving.  “People want to move from Haiti to the U.S.”, I thought to myself.  “Who would want to move from the U.S. to Haiti?”  I was sure that my parents would see the folly of their thoughts and sometime in August, I’d be back in Queens getting ready to attend Archbishop Molloy High School.  But instead, I was stuck in Haiti. 

People who visit Haiti often return to the States and tell everyone how being in Haiti made them feel so grateful for all that they had previously taken for granted.  But living in Haiti proved a very different mindset for me.  I hated Haiti.  I was embarrassed by the half-completed home I was living in.  Mortified by the lack of consistent running water and shocked at the idea that I could flip a light switch or press a button on the TV or radio and nothing happened (we had daily blackouts lasting 12-18 hours on average), I hated my life. 

Although I was already a professing believer in Christ, I hated Him too.  I was disillusioned by the God that I thought loved me: how could He love me and let me go through all of this?  Why was I surrounded by so much pain and poverty?  I was in what appeared to be a lose-lose proposition: I hated the fact that I had left so much in New York to live with so little in Haiti.  But at the same time, I knew I couldn’t complain too much because by comparison with the misery around me, I should be feel fortunate.   I wondered as I wandered in circles in my nearly pitch dark room with no light but the moon and the far away flickering lights on the mountains, “Does God really care?”

To be sure, there were some bright spots here and there.  My friend David Prosper kept me sane with faithful friendship, insightful thoughts, and brilliant imagination. And then there was a loving community of missionaries that took a liking to me, first among them was my high school principle, Mr. David Bitner.  

I was taught the scriptures in school and while it fascinated me to learn directly from scripture (I went to Roman Catholic schools prior to QuisqueyaChristian School (QCS) and only had religion text books), it increased the gap between me and God in a weird way.  The God I read about in the Scriptures was transcendent but imminent.  Like the sun in the sky, He was actually so far above and beyond me and yet just as present as the heat around me—especially the Haitian sun!  But my experience in Haiti between June of ’88 and January of ’91 had me believing that I was experiencing the eclipse of God’s love. 

Somewhere in the middle of my junior year, a true Godsend in my life, formerly Rebecca Nelson (a daughter of missionaries herself) had shared a scripture passage with me:  Jeremiah 29:11-13, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”

It was at that time that things started to make sense.  I realized that my time in Haiti had forced me to truly seek God out in ways that a comparatively comfortable life in the States probably wouldn’t have.  Somehow, in the middle of my anger at God for engineering or at the very least allowing the circumstances of my life, I hadn’t stopped believing in Him despite my confusion about His ways.  When I read all of Jeremiah 29, I realized that the chapter itself was a letter from Jeremiah to those Jews who were in exile.  “I’m in exile too!” I thought to myself.  It was the first time that I could see the God speaking to my life directly through the pages of scripture.  Although I was in another country that I didn't want to live in, I had the assurance that God did care.  After all, He had one of His prophets write a letter to persons who were in my shoes.  And He cared enough to ensure that the same letter would be preserved to the very day that I needed its instruction and encouragement.  

 

My assumptions about God and my expectations regarding how He would govern the life I handed over to Him were wrong.  To be truthful, I’m not sure I really understood God’s rulership over my life as a Christian.  I knew He was saving me from Hell… but that was about it.  The idea that God would radically rule my life without any attempt to appeal for my consent never occurred to me.  I never thought to myself, “Why would an infinitely wise God need my advice as to what I thought was good for my life?”  Instead, I assumed that God should do the things that I wanted Him to do and be for me whatever I thought He should be so long as I was a good boy and was basically moral. 

What a joke.

My basic problem with God was a lack of trust.  I didn’t truly believe that He was out for my good.  I looked at circumstances and made the common but drastic mistake of trusting my own calculations.  When I did the math and the numbers didn’t make sense, I assumed that God was wrong.  It never occurred to me that the way I was looking at my life was wrong… or that comfort and pleasure were wrong goals… or that the Christian life shouldn’t include a cross to bear.  I was “wise in my own eyes” and had the nerve to accuse God of wrong doing.  It’s a testament to His grace that He didn’t kill me.  Trust me, if you knew some of the things I said to Him and thought I had about Him in those dark hours, you’d agree.  But God is so merciful.

The team I traveled with to Haiti saw firsthand and I was reminded of the spiritual giants that the common Haitian believers are.  Often with holes in their shoes and unbearable heat, these people trust God with a faith that shames those of us with climate-controlled sanctuaries and padded pews.  They sing with fervor and easily listen to hour-long sermons with great intent because they are wise enough to cling to God.  Their difficult circumstances have made them wise beyond our learning and it was good for me to be reminded of that.

I think it was Wednesday, December 5^th that I saw my brother John in Haiti.  He came to guide me on my way to visit my parents for a few hours with permission from Kathi Reid and Team Leader Tony Taylor.  But on my way to see my parents, I had the pleasure of seeing my old Coalition for Christian Outreach (CCO) colleague (Robbie Pruitt) and the honor of speaking to his 12 grade Bible class at QCS.  The experience was surreal.

I was standing in clothes I had packed for construction work that were sullied with the dust from transferring between 3 Haitian buses or “tap-taps”.  I was speaking to the Senior Class of 2013 almost 21 years since I had been a senior in what was Miss Sharon Bressler’s classroom where I had both Civics/US Government and Bible class from Mr. Bressler (the Epistle of James).  I was challenging the class to total commitment to God and faithfulness to His word and the pursuit of godly mentors and Christian fellowship.  And I was sharing my own struggles while in Haiti with my reflections on Jeremiah 29 and how God used that one chapter to completely revolutionize my walk with Him. 

I look back on that day and those few minutes with awe and fondness.  Symbolically, it represented a completed circle: the faith of those missionary families like the Bitners, Bresslers, Shingledeckers, etc. was is now fully transferred to me in that I had the opportunity to serve the same nation where they were serving when the Lord used them in my life.  I know that the work of my hands will glorify God by encouraging the faith of a family in need that is calling out to God for the bare necessity of shelter.  My teammates and I will always share the comfort and honor that comes from being used by God in that way.  But those moments back at QCS reminded me of how much the Holy Spirit has impacted my life through self-sacrificial believers in Christ who abandoned their own comfort for the glory of God amidst suffering and extreme inconvenience.

Haiti Missions Trip Recap 02: Spreading the Word

Why didn't Jesus just come as an adult and go straight to the cross?  Wouldn't that still have been an act of supreme love?  In Acts 3, we find Peter and John in the Temple, healing a man who was lame.  Acts 19:11-12 tells us that people who merely came in contact with Paul's handkerchiefs and aprons were cured.  Surely these are sufficient for demonstrating to the world the One Who is Yahweh-Rapha, "the Lord Who heals you".  After all, didn't St. Francis of Assisi give us those inspiring words, "Preach the gospel everywhere and use words if necessary"?

I started thinking about these things after our 2nd work day in Lambi Village.  It was then that I had several conversations with village residents who said that they were Christians but didn't own a Bible.  I shared my concern with one of the pastors on the team who agreed that we should definitely be looking to do both: provide practical support that meets a felt need AND distribute Bibles while ministering God's word to persons at every opportunity that we are able to do so.

The leaves change colors in autumn, but hearts seem to bud and open like flowers in spring.  Every year between Thanksgiving and Christmas, there appears to be an increase in active expressions of generosity, kindness, hospitality, and cheer.  I certainly welcome that kind of shift, but I wonder: is it Christian, or is it cultural?  After all, Christians aren't the only ones who participate in the kind of charitable giving and volunteering that we have become accustomed to during the holiday season.  The truth is, many have come to accept the idea that in such cases, "actions speak louder than words".

But I beg to differ.

Let's look back at the questions we started with.  If we saw Jesus on the cross, never having taught/preached as He did.  How would we know Who He really was?  Is He a martyr, criminal, or the Son of God?  Without His teaching, we would have never guessed at the last option.  Were Peter, John, and Paul magicians?  Were they physicians?  Were they Greek gods manifested in the flesh or were they humble servants of Jesus, the dead man Who came back to life, that were commissioned to continue His work in His name?  Without their teachings/writings, we wouldn't have assumed that option either.  And something else is true: without their words, none of them would have suffered the persecution that they had to endure.

Jesus wasn't put to death because He healed lepers, gave widows back their dead sons, or fed thousands on  a five loaves of bread and two fish.  Peter wasn't imprisoned for making a lame man dance.  The mobs didn't stone Paul, attempting to kill him because he freed a slave girl from her demon possession.  All these good works were welcomed and the men through whom God performed them would have been equally received if it were not for the gospel of God's work in Christ and it's life-changing power through the Holy Spirit.  The miraculous and merciful actions of Jesus and the early church were not alone, but accompanied by a message that was offensive to most of their hearers.  They preached it anyway, and if we don't how can we be counted as faithful?

"Faith comes by seeing, and seeing by watching the things I do without mentioning the name of the one who loves me".  Dear reader, if you are one of the many who would say, "I can do evangelism [which is defined as proclaiming the gospel] by doing good deeds and honor God without communicating a single word", I would ask you to find the "verse" quoted above in the Bible.  Until you show me that, I'll believe this one:  "Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God" (Romans 10:17).

Again, it's Christmas time.  Let's be zealous for the good works that accompany the season.  It is certainly true that God has called us--even fashioned us for such things.  But as we do the works, woe unto us if we preach not the gospel.  Why would we do good works without a mention of our Father in heaven and specifically make known that our works are done to honor JESUS?  Have we chosen to conform to the world out of fear for their rebuke when we should have considered it God's reward to suffer for the gospel's sake?  Christian courage demands better of us.  For all that He's given us and sacrificed, wouldn't it be good to give Him the gift of a bold, wise, and specifically gospel-centered witness at this blessed time of year?

Haiti Missions Trip Recap 01: The Incarnation

At some point in late July or early August TNMBC Senior Pastor Patrick J. Walker and Pastor Angelo Berry tapped 10 men on the shoulder.  Of course, this is figurative language for the challenge they put forth for some to take hold of the opportunity afforded by partnership with Lott Carey and Grace International to be a blessing to the Haitian people for the glory of God at Lambi Village.  The slogan was "100 Men, 10 Homes" and the idea was to help rebuild the lives of Haitians who lost homes during the 2010 earthquake.  I knew I was going and with a little re-shuffling, TNMBC ended up sending 9 men including two Haitian-Americans: myself and another brother from Cambria Heights (Queens), NY- Ricardi Damille.  More on him later...

One of the first things I understood about the trip was that this was a work-based missions trip.  There are all kinds of missions trips and this would be my second one centered on building/construction.  I knew that the labor itself would be an expression of God's love as demonstrated by Jesus on the cross, but not exactly the proclamation of it.  As Ephesians 2 teaches us, we are saved by grace through faith- not of works.  But the same chapter also informs us that even before we came to Christ, God had already drawn up plans for our lives that included specific works--good works-- that would distinguish and mark us as masterpieces; His very own handiwork (Ephesians 2:10).

To me, life itself is nothing more than the unfolding and discovery of God's dream for how my life should glorify Him.  So, I can say that I truly felt led to go.  I was ready for the grunt work.  I welcomed the sweat.  Lord knows, I ate a pound of dust everyday going to and from the work site via the dusty roads between Carrefour and Leogane.  While I was prepared to follow through the day-to-day rigors of construction that the mission called for, I am truly grateful for moments orchestrated by Providence when the greater mission emerged.  With Ricardi's permission, I'm glad to share one such experience at this time.

The team had already spent half of the day under the Haitian sun at heavy labor when one of our team members took ill.  I happened to be walking up a hill with Jonny Jeune, our host and construction engineer for the village.  When we spotted our brother who was obviously suffering from some kind of heat exhaustion, Jonny quickly decided he should go back to our living quarters.  He wisely asked Ricardi, fluent in Haitian Creole, to accompany our brother who is also an elder pastor.  They headed back to the hotel together.

Once the pastor was comfortably seated, Ricardi went to find some water to bring him more relief.  However, when he requested water from the owner's son, the young man mumbled something to himself and walked away completely dismissing Ricardi's plea on behalf of the pastor.  Not sure what to make of it, Ricardi returned to the pastor to care for and keep an eye on him.  At that time, an employee of the hotel observed Ricardi speaking with the older pastor and immediately left the vicinity only to return with cold, bottled water and this apology,

"Oh sir, please forgive us!  We didn't know that you were with the foreigners!"

You see, Ricardi had made his request to the Haitian hotel owner's son in perfect Creole but was then heard speaking perfect English with the American pastor.

Please understand that under normal circumstances, virtually any U.S. citizen would receive preferential treatment.  Even for people like Ricardi and myself, although we are 100% Haitian-blooded, we are still American citizens by birth and are therefore thrust into the ultra upper-class in terms of economic freedom and political protection in Haiti.  But because Ricardi looked like a Haitian, spoke like a Haitian, appeared to be begging (asking for water) and was in work clothes doing heavy labor like many Haitian males, he didn't at all resemble a man of comparably privileged origins.  And because he looked like a common Haitian, he was treated accordingly and suffered the humiliation of being ignored and cast aside.  Why?  All because his appearance didn't match his actual station in life and also because he had assimilated and "fit in" so well.

"He grew up before Him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground.  He had no beauty of majesty to attract us to Him, nothing in His appearance that we should desire him.  He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.  Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not"  --Isaiah 53:2-3

As I reflected on Ricardi's experience, I couldn't help but think of God's divine Son taking on flesh and blood for our sake.  So many would sell their own parents for a chance to rub shoulders with the rich, famous, and powerful.  But how many people walked right past the Son of God every day without knowing it.  Even worse, how many who saw Him at work with awesome and wise teaching not to mention mighty acts of miraculous power still chose to reject Him?  And why?  All because he didn't look like the kind of person who was important.  In fact, Jesus looked so normal that even with His message and miracles, people couldn't get past His "average-ness".  Christ, the Almighty Foreigner in our midst, was disregarded, despised and doubted because He looked too familiar and spoke our language too well.

I'll say a lot more on this blog about other experiences I and others shared in Haiti from Dec. 1st to the 8th.  But I wanted to start with this one because we are in the Christmas season.  I thought it was fitting to think about the sacrifice Jesus made long before He got to the cross: the sacrifice of relinquishing status, position, and honor to become like us.  Calculate the miles I and my teammates may have traveled and consider what comforts we passed up and missed out on.  Combine all that we missed we may have given up in terms of distance from family/friends and multiply that by whatever we may have paid and others donated in terms of cost to go to Haiti, etc. Put it all together and it's virtually nothing- not even a drop in the ocean- compared with what Christ endured for our sake just in coming to the world.

In closing, my deacon brother Brad Lee told me something on the way back from Haiti that his basic training sergeant told him, "I won't ask you to do anything that I myself wouldn't do."  With respect to evangelism and specifically this missions trip, a lot has been made of the fact that Christians have a duty to "Go" and fulfill the Great Commission.  But how many have considered the fact that Jesus asked us to "go" and had a right to do so because when He was asked to "go", He did it.  The True Missionary and the Real Evangelist is none other than Jesus Christ.  And because He came, we can certainly go.  Because of all He went through, we can certainly endure all things with His power.  Man, I love Christmas!