over the river

Header Challenge: Over the River

November 21, 2012

Innisfree cruising Chgo Riv past Columbus Drive

This is my second of three installments as one of the Headbangers.  Please see the posts submitted by my cohorts Fishing Guy, Katney, Imac, Sandy and Lew.

Funny, I have been close to the Chicago River most of my life.  In fact, at one point I lived only half-a-block from the North Branch of the Chicago River.  That was during my dark ages-- i.e., when I did not have a digital camera and rarely used film because of the cost.

As with most photographic subjects, the background and secondary subjects have a significant impact on what we think of our primary subject.  Two years ago I found myself with an opportunity to visit Downtown Chicago, and I liked the view of the river there more than the spot where I used to live.

tourists boarding Skyline Queen on Chgo Riv

Yes, the water looks very green.  We dye the river every year for Saint Patrick's Day.

But the Chicago River has never made me weep.  So what's the story with this week's header?

That is a photo I took in 2005 from Payatas, in the Philippines.  There is a lot to love about the Philippines, but here, as our jeepney drew near to the area, the stench of rot hit our noses with unmitigated putrescence.  I was prepared for this, so I went into my backpack and retrieved a small jar of menthol ointment, smeared a little under my nose and passed it around to the others.  The rainy season brings steady rains to garbage mountain and that water percolates down from the summits, through the layers and layers until it flows down like a river in front of the huts.  (Wait--did he just say huts??)  This is the main garbage dump for Manila, so there is a vast deposit of refuse in this garbage dump, but if a mountain of refuse offends your sensibilities, that shock turns to heartbreak when you see that people have set up shacks... and live there!!  I saw little children playing and working in the squalor.  They look for anything they can sell to second hand stores.  I looked into the tub where two small children were doing laundry.  That swill was so disgusting a fly would plug its nose!

Payatas homes in rainy season - 2005

But there are people living there, so guess what... There are also pastors, teachers and nurses who selflessly choose to work there.  I was moved by those who denied themselves and sacrificed much for the sake of others.  I saw one humble pastor wiping this area's "mud" off of someone elses' feet.  It reminded me of Jesus washing his disciples' feet.  This river of sorts, which began as the flowing sludge of pure tragedy has now become a path for mercy.  And the extraordinary kindness of a few has become the means for empathy and compassion to permeate this place, so that now a spirit of grace and compassion flows over this "river" for the sake of the families who live there.

praying hands

I have two stories about prayer.

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1) I was in the middle of a sloppy conflict resolution at church some twenty years ago. When I offered my two cents, one of agitants retorted, "Well Craver, did you pray about it?" That snotty remark made me feel angry, but she made a good point. I had not prayed before speaking... but I should have.

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and...

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2) One night, while on a missions trip in the Philippines, a young man asked my pastor if he could pray for him. Pastor said yes. The next day at morning devotions, the young man looked like he hadn't slept a wink. That's because he didn't. He labored intensely through the morning, interceding for my pastor. That moved me; I have never prayed like that.

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Incidents like these force me to evaluate my prayer life and ask myself, "What do I really believe about prayer?" And, "Do my practices match my theology?"

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Warren Wiersbe was talking to Christians about prayer and said: "In whatever man does without God, he must fail miserably, or succeed more miserably."

remembering Judge Lore

In 2005, I went with a handful of people from my church to visit the Philippines and Japan, and to lend a hand to those churches in any way they saw fit. We were greeted at the Manila airport by the Honorable, Judge Lorenzo Veneracion and a welcoming committee. They hung a banner just past customs, saying "mabuhay" (welcome). We were treated to exceptional hospitality from the poorest people we've ever known. They were rich in the Fruit of the Spirit, and in prayer and servanthood. That trip moved me profoundly and this man was a big part of the whole experience. The picture above was taken outside of the Lighthouse Mission in Quezon City. Judge Lore (pronounced loree) is next to the "W" in "Welcome."

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Judge Lore housed us at the school and soup kitchen he established for the poor children of Quezon City. He arranged for transportation to see all kinds of work that was being done on the island of Laguna, and even a tour of the garbage village outside of Manila. His program for us included appointing us as ambassadors, that we might have more lasting opportunities to continue the work that was done while we were there.

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I learned today, that at the age of 74, he was called to be with the Lord. I hope that his work has inspired and paved the way for others to carry on the acts of compassion that he so craved. May God comfort all of those who mourn in his family as well as those friends and co-laborers who grieve at the loss of this honorable servant of the Lord.

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He was a selfless man of action, always doing things for other people. It is hard to find people like that. I think it's safe to say that he cared because God cares, and Jesus' example is what kept him going.

G'mornin!

I am going to miss travelling to the Philippines and Japan this summer. There will be an exciting new element to this year's trip: a contingent from South Korea. I know their (SK) pastor, because we went to church together while he was in seminary. [Anyung haseyo!]

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I'll miss the long days jam-packed with all kinds of events. I'll miss the fellowship as we travelled back and forth in the crazy Manila traffic between all the stuff we had going on. I'll miss the hard work of practical things, like pouring a concrete basketball court for the church's Inspiration Center. I'll miss the education and broadening of my horizons I received from my exposure to other cultures. And the people... it makes me a little sad that I will not have the opportunity to hang around with my pals this year.

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There is a whole lot more, but I'll stop now. Maybe I'll pick it up again later, but do you know what I don't miss? There were roosters everywhere. Some people raised these fighting birds for sport. These cruel animals never let me sleep past four in the morning! The first one to start cock-a-doodle-doo-ing woke all the other ones up, and it was like waking up in a clock factory!

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But I would do it again in a heartbeat! The early mornings spent praying and in the Word were priceless.

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I dunno, maybe I ought to put a few roosters in my suburban backyard... Nah!!!

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Image by Rey Nocum