I just learned that today is the 29th anniversary of Oscar Romero’s assassination. Here is an excerpt from one of his sermons that resonates with what I was trying to say earlier (though he is far more eloquent).

“It helps, now and then to step back and take the long view. The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts. It is even beyond our vision… No statement says all that could be said. No prayer fully expresses our faith. No confession brings perfection… No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

“This is what we are about: One person plants a seed in the soil. Another waters it. We plant seeds that will one day grow. We water seeds already planted knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces effects beyond our capabilities. We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing it.

“This enables us to do something and do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for God’s grace to enter and do the rest.

“We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders; ministers not messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.”

Amen.

David Creech

For those of you who have been reading my posts for awhile, you probably are well aware of my proclivity towards idealism. Working for ELCA World Hunger has tempered that tendency a bit but I still find myself drifting too frequently towards the ideal (fortunately my colleague Nancy Michaelis balances me out a bit!).

At Ecumenical Advocacy Days I realized how the ideal could be a real hindrance to addressing hunger and poverty. Our ask to Congress was threefold: 1) To follow the recommendations of the scientific community to reduce greenhouse gas emissions (20-40% by 2020 and 80% by 2050); 2) To protect those who are living in poverty, here and abroad, from the impacts of climate change; and 3) To consider the impacts of climate change on migration when drafting the legislation.

In all of these requests, idealism can be hindrance to movement forward. For example, if I understand correctly, cap and trade legislation is not the ideal solution to climate change. Europe has had a cap and trade system in place for a number of years and it has not yielded the results promised. One of my companions from the Nicaragua study trip, Peter Metcalf (who is studying the environment in a graduate program at the University of Montana), suggested that a carbon tax would be more effective. In the U.S., however, cap and trade has some political legs, and if anything is going to get done, it will probably be cap and trade. So do we aim for the ideal or do we just try to get something (anything!) done?

When I met with my congressman’s staffer, I could tell that she was not interested in the last two components of the ask. I know that climate change legislation will help those who are vulnerable, but I would like to see more efforts to help them. So do I support my congressman who will get something (anything!) done or do I pressure for more?

At Senator Durbin’s office, his legislative director was very amenable to our ask. “But,” he said, “you know we’ll need to get at least five or six Republicans on board with us?” Compromise. Bleck.

Now, I realize that I have very limited power when it comes to the workings of Congress. In reality, my opinion about things matters very little when it comes to decisions our government makes. I can support my congressman or not, he will still make his vote that does not take into account those who are poor and vulnerable. My senator, who is the number two man in the Senate, is subject to forces beyond his control. The ideal must be sacrificed for something (anything!) to be enacted.

I think this can happen in our attempts to be responsible citizens and compassionate people as well. I know it happens in my life all the time (I just had a great discussion with my wife about how we could conserve more water–strangely, I was all about the little things and she was pushing for drastic changes).

The real question I’m learning to ask is what is the balance between the ideal and what already is. What can a realistically seek to accomplish without setting the bar too low? How can I make sure that the ideal does not keep me from being an advocate with and on behalf of those who are poor and vulnerable? Any thoughts?

David Creech

So it’s been awhile since my last post. Last weekend I was in Washington D.C. participating in Ecumenical Advocacy Days. From their Web site,

“Ecumenical Advocacy Days is a movement of the ecumenical Christian community, and its recognized partners and allies, grounded in biblical witness and our shared traditions of justice, peace and the integrity of creation. Our goal, through worship, theological reflection and opportunities for learning and witness, is to strengthen our Christian voice and to mobilize for advocacy on a wide variety of U.S. domestic and international policy issues.”

The theme this year centered on issues of climate change and poverty. Many of us who went to Nicaragua back in January reunited to give a presentation on what we saw on our visit. I also had the chance to meet with some of the folks from the Advocacy office in D.C. and see how they do their work. They are such valuable partners. While our individual decisions matter (yes, I’m still not eating meat), public policy is a key component to addressing global justice issues. Our Advocacy folks in D.C. and New York (as well as those in Pittsburgh and numerous State Public Policy Offices) are essential allies in our struggle against global and domestic hunger.

On the last day of the conference, I got to meet with the legislative assistant to my congressman (Mark Kirk) and the legislative director to Senator Dick Durbin. I told both of them that climate change is a pressing issue and that we need to start acting now. I expressed that my hope is that whatever legislation is proposed takes into account those who are most vulnerable, both here and abroad. I was told that both the House and the Senate aim to have a bill this year. Here’s hoping!

It was good for me to see how the process works and to better understand my role in advocating on behalf of those who are poor and vulnerable. On Monday I will have more to say on the specific lessons (I think) I learned.

On a totally unrelated note, for those of you who missed me or wish in general that you heard more from me, I am now on Twitter with the user name “hungerbites” (yes, the name is intended to have multiple meanings; three, to be exact). I will be updating my status 2-3 times a day, letting people who are passionate about working against hunger know what I am reading and writing. Feel free to follow!

David Creech

Have you heard of jatropha? I admit it: I hadn’t. But I read something recently about how jotropha was the hot new biofuel. So I did a little googling today and discovered I must be living under a rock because jotropha is everywhere.

In case you’re like me and not so current on hip biofuels, jatropha is a tree that produces seeds that are packed with oil and are potentially very efficient sources of diesel fuel. Here are some of the reasons it’s attracting so much interest:

• It grows well in marginal soil
• It can survive for months without water
• It burns quite cleanly and the jatropha trees capture carbon, so it’s comparatively good for the environment
• It can potentially produce a lot more fuel per acre than other biofuels like corn and soy
• It is a perennial tree and therefore doesn’t have to be replanted each year
• The seed pulp left after the oil has been pressed can be used for fertilzer and formed into briquettes for other uses
• Unlike corn, jatropha is not edible and therefore is not diverting the food supply into fuel
• It can grow in places like Africa, India, Mexico, and Central America, creating a possible industry for places that badly need it and allowing diverse fuel suppliers

Sounds fantastic, right? But there are some downsides:

• While it can live in marginal soil and without water, it won’t necessarily produce well in those conditions
• Parts of the plant are highly toxic and there is concern over harvesting and processing it safely
• Currently, harvesting would have to be done by hand, making it a labor-intensive fuel.
• While it doesn’t directly divert a food crop, if it proves profitable, people might replace crops with jatropha (see Burma)

So, nothing is certain, but it appears jatropha is well worth more study, and investors are on board. Especially since Air New Zealand used a blend of jatropha and diesel to fly a Boeing 747 jet last year. In my mind, even if jatropha doesn’t turn out to be the best new fuel source on the planet, the research and experimenting that’s going on is really encouraging. It take us farther along the path of finding fuel sources that are relatively inexpensive, clean, renewable, and accessible for some of the poorest places on Earth. What can be more hopeful than that?

If you’d like to know more, here are some of the places where I learned about jatropha today:

Reuters
Reuters UK
ChemicallyGreen.com
BBC

This recipe comes from page 35 of the Food for Life cookbook. It is a recipe from Northern Uganda, and it is often eaten in times of food shortages. If you try this recipe, take a moment to learn about the conflict in Northern Uganda and how Lutherans are accompanying families displaced by violence and those beginning to return home.

When you sit down to eat, pray this Ugandan table blessing: Bless you, O Lord, as we sit together. Bless the food we eat this day. Bless the hands that made the food. Bless us o Lord. Amen.

Malakwang in Peanut Sauce

(you may want to try cutting the recipe in half)

1-2 lb sweet potatoes
1-2 lb leafy greens (try kale, collard greens, spinach, or chard)
1 tomato, chopped
1 onion, finely chopped
2 cups cold water
1 1/2 cups natural peanut butter (no sugar or oil added)
salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes to taste

Peel and cook the sweet potatoes (steam, bake, or boil) until they are soft.

Meanwhile, remove any tough stems from the greens, chop the leaves coarsely, wash the leaves, and throw them into a large pot while still wet. Cover the pot and turn on the heat. Cook until the leaves are wilted, stirring occasionally. (If you use frozen greens, cook them until thawed.) Add the cold water, tomato, and onion and simmer for 10 minutes. Stir some of the hot vegetable cooking water into the peanut butter and then add the resulting peanut butter sauce in with the vegetables. Add salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes to taste.

Serve with the cooked sweet potatoes.

Women’s rights are always of concern to ELCA World Hunger. Education, land ownership, access to credit – all of these things provide the means to make a living, and all of these things are often denied to women. Unsurprisingly, women suffer a disproportionate amount of hunger and poverty compared to men.

As a white woman living in the United States, I’ve always recognized that an accident of birth has allowed me access to power structures that many women in the world don’t have. Such luck to be born here and now! But two things I’ve read in the past week have alerted me to just how much the “now” matters.
The first comes from Dreamers of the Day, an historical novel by Mary Doria Russell. She describes an unmarried schoolteacher living in Ohio in 1920:

“Well, at the end of the war, women had achieved the suffrage, but the Nineteenth Amendment didn’t carry with it the right to make a living. There were so many demobilized soldiers needing work that we ladies were often summarily dismissed from employment.”

Can you imagine the lawsuits that would occur now? Yet that was the state of the country within the lifetime of people I have known. It really was not that long ago.

The second item comes from a blurb about Women’s History Month (which is now, in March):

“1974’s Equal Credit Opportunity Act gave married women the right to have credit cards and bank loans in their own name. Prior to that, in many states, wives had to defer to their husbands for credit card use, and women had to have a male cosigner to get a loan.”

1974!! That’s within my lifetime! I had no idea that, at the time I was born, my mother could not have her own credit card! One could look at these things and despair at how long it has taken for women’s rights to get to where they are, and how far they have to go. But I take heart on the flip side. Look how deeply embedded these rights have become in our society in such a relatively short time, and what a wonderfully important difference they have made.

And the fight for women’s rights goes on! To read more about VERY current affairs and ongoing work on the topic, I encourage you to read the Ecumenical Women blog. Emily Davila, the Assistant Director at the Lutheran Office for World Community in New York, says there’s a lot of interesting posting going on right now from the Commission on the Status of Women. Learn more and lend your voice so that opportunity for women doesn’t depend on birth place and time.

At David Creech’s suggestion, many of us ELCA World Hunger staff have gone vegetarian for Lent. (He explains why in previous posts, like yesterday’s.) Admittedly, I’m on the “vegetarian lite” plan – only abstaining from meat on Wednesdays and Fridays. But even so, and even only a week into it, the experience has been educational for me.

I’ve never attempted to be vegetarian, but nor am I especially carnivorous. In fact, I find nothing appetizing about a steak or a roast; big slabs of meat kind of gross me out. At the same time, I really like most vegetables. I eat vegetarian meals regularly, though not exclusively, simply out of preference. So I didn’t think skipping meat two days a week would be particularly difficult – or even different – and I liked the reasons for doing it. I agreed to participate without hesitation.

And this is where the role of meat in my life and culture began asserting itself. I myself had no hesitation about an experiment in vegetarianism. Not so my family. I am the primary meal-maker in the house, and there was swift resistance to the idea of several weeks of a vegetarian menu. Not keen on preparing different food for myself and them, we agreed on the two-day-a-week plan. Lesson one: there is social pressure for me to eat meat, even in my own home. Or maybe especially there, since unlike a restaurant, we don’t each get exactly what we want every meal. My choices are tied to the choices of others.

I’m also learning that meat can be difficult to avoid. Compared to much of the world, meat here is cheap and plentiful, and therefore ubiquitous. It is on offer everywhere I go, and often, it’s no more expensive than non-meat choices. Last Wednesday, I consciously looked for vegetarian choices on a menu and discovered that there weren’t many. Lesson two: meaty meals can be easier to obtain than vegetarian ones. There’s a cultural expectation and incentive to eat meat every day.

Then there’s the challenge of remembering what day it is. It was sheer luck that I didn’t eat meat yesterday. At lunchtime, I opened the refrigerator and saw some leftover soup. I considered it, but decided that a leftover beet burger sounded better, so I had that instead. It wasn’t until I started thinking about dinner that I realized it was Wednesday and I almost ate Southwestern Chicken soup for lunch. Lesson three: when you live surrounded by a wide variety of plentiful food, it’s easy to be careless about what you eat.

All of this awareness in only a week! It’ll be interesting to see what else we learn – both individually and as a group – by the time Easter rolls around.

Sorry to post so late (though technically it is still Wednesday), sometimes days don’t go as planned. Anyhow, I am now one week into my Lenten fast from meat and the discipline has led to much thinking. If you recall, I embarked on this fast with two aims in mind. First, I wanted to be in solidarity with those who never get to eat meat of any sort. I saw the fast as an opportunity to be mindful of those who are hungry and to offer prayers on their behalf. Second, I think that our eating practices matter. For example, excessive meat consumption costs too much, both in terms of feed and natural resources. I saw this fast as an opportunity to experiment with a vegetarian diet and through the process observe how I felt and maybe even find a few new dishes.

I began Lent with a true fast on Ash Wednesday. I did find many opportunities to offer quick prayers throughout the day as the “hunger rumblings” made their presence known. I was somewhat surprised because it’s not uncommon for me to reach the end of any given day and to realize that I had not eaten a thing all day. When I was intentional about abstaining, however, I found myself longing for food. Funny how that happens.

At the end of the day, when it was time to break fast (yes, my break fast was a dinner), I was struck by the fact that I could choose to be filled. Moreover, because I had not eaten all day, I did not want to put just anything in my body. I wanted to make sure it was somewhat healthy. In that moment, I realized that my desire to be in solidarity with those who are hungry in some ways could not be fulfilled. It is still an option for me to be sated (and to choose what will sate me).

Since then I have been meatless, though eating fairly regularly. I have found myself wanting meat periodically, and I have used those opportunities to reflect on God’s grace and to pray for those who are hungry. I have also found that at the end of a meal I am not always satisfied. I have just a general desire for more. This again has led to reflection on and prayer for those who are never satisfied.

In the last few days, the desire for meat has been less frequent (though I’m still not always satisfied at the end of a meal). I think that consuming less meat is a real possibility for me. If I can go vegetarian cold turkey, surely I can cut meat out of one or two meals out a week.

These are some of my thoughts one week into the fast. As you can tell, I’ve not had the chance yet to try some new recipes (though I am looking forward to Friday’s dinner). I would love to hear how your fasts are going and the thinking that has accompanied them. Please feel free to leave your reflections in the comments (or if you like, email them straight to me).

David Creech

Here’s a Sudanese recipe for a dish called Bamia from Food for Life. I am going to try Bamia this Friday as a part of my Lenten discipline (which, by the way, has been very enlightening so far, and I’m not even a week into it!). I selected the recipe because it looks relatively quick and easy.

2-3 chopped onions
2-3 fresh chopped tomatoes
1 kg (2.2 lbs) fresh okra
2-3 tsp oil
2-3 cloves garlic
1 tsp coriander
salt and pepper to taste

Serves 3 people
Preparation time: 15 minutes
Cooking time: 20 minutes

Heat oil in a medium-sized saucepan over medium heat. Saute onions for two minutes. Add garlic and saute for one minute. Stir in the tomatoes. Bring the mixture to a string boil and cook for five minutes while stirring often. Trim the okra, slice into half-inch rounds and stir into the mixture. Simmer for 10 minutes and serve hot over rice.

I’ll post next Monday on how it goes. Also, be sure to check out the blog this Wednesday–I’ll post some of my reflections and experiences of the fast thus far. Feel free to comment with your recipes and stories too!

David Creech

A few months ago, I read Hot, Flat, and Crowded by Thomas Friedman. About halfway through the book, he describes what life will be like in the energy-efficient future. He tells about how your house has a Smart Black Box (SBB) that manages all of your home’s energy usage – lighting, temperature, appliances, TV, etc. The SBB can tell you how much energy each of your appliances uses, and each appliance can be programmed to run when you’d like. Many people choose to have them run whenever electricity is the cheapest – usually nights and weekends. This is possible because in the future, utility companies offer different rates and plans that correspond with demand and load. So it’s possible to keep your costs down by using you washing machine when demand for electricity is lower, and shutting them down when it’s higher. You win in cost, the utility companies win by spreading out demand and load, the environment wins because fewer power plants are needed and renewable energy sources can play a bigger role.

Imagine my surprise when I received an offer in the mail last week from my electric company offering me this service! I had no idea the future was so close!

Now, I’ve only summarized a small part of what Friedman describes in his book, and my electric company has offered me only part of my summary. But it was close enough to get my attention! For a small monthly fee, they will install a meter that records our hourly electricity usage. They will also publish online how much electricity costs each hour of the day. And while we can’t program our appliances to run at certain times, we can look at the rates and choose to run the washing machine when electricity is cheaper. If you sign up, you have to stay in the program for a year.

My husband and I looked at each other and said, “Should we do it?” Philosophically, we are both in favor, but I realized as we deliberated that the future is not yet here. There’s just not enough information. Our electric company can’t tell us anything about our various appliances’ current energy usage, so how big a difference will shifting our dishwashing hours make? Are we going to save a couple of cents? Several dollars? Will we save enough to make up for the monthly cost of the new, hourly meter? Will we end up paying more than we do now when, in August, the air conditioner runs pretty constantly and we’re stuck with high-demand rates during the day? Is this actually a stupid financial decision? Even though we favor the concept, we hesitated.

But in the end, we decided to try it. I like Friedman’s vision, and someone has to be an early-adopter on the path to the energy-efficient future. Why not us? If we’re lucky, it will save us money, too. So we mailed in the enrollment form. I’ll keep you posted.