Sometimes pictures are all the words we need. ELCA World Hunger funds support projects in over 55 countries around the world. These are a few ways those funds have been at work:
1. Asia – 2009 ELCA World Hunger funded project, Bangladesh. Companion: RDRS2. Africa – 2010 ELCA World Hunger & ELCA Global Mission supports missionaries in Tanzania. Missionaries provide health care and economic development assistance.3. North America – 2010 ELCA World Hunger supported ministry. Organization: Southeast Asian Ministries, Minneapolis. Refugee services.4. Latin America – 2010 ELCA Disaster Response & Global Mission, Haiti. Organization: Lutheran World Federation-Haiti & Lutheran Church in Haiti. Coordinating services to 800 displaced families.

Thank you for your prayers, your donations and your time. They assist many people all over the world.

Blessings,

Lana

Yadda yadda yadda: after dozens of posts on stuff and how to get rid of it, how to move it crosscountry in a UHaul, how to store it and ignore it, and how to live without it, I’ve unpacked it all, in a new home.

Making my coffee in my little white Melita pot, dressing from a closet instead of a suitcase, settling down to books and papers united, finally, at one desk—my stuff surrounds me again. Now I can create the comforting routines I was longing for towards the end of my 17-month sabbatical road trip.

Perhaps rejoicing in my belongings—seeing them as new all over again—will help me avoid hedonic adaptation. In this phenomenon, says the New York Times in this article on what makes us happy, “people quickly become used to changes, great or terrible, in order to maintain a stable level of happiness. Over time, that means the buzz from a new purchase is pushed toward the emotional norm.” And that means we stop getting pleasure from that new dress, new house, new car, new whatever. Which makes us go out and buy more new things!

Hedonic adaptation is one reason researchers who study happiness recommend investing in leisure activities and services that build relationships instead of spending money on more stuff. One Illinois expert used his field’s research to buy a house close to hiking trails. The novelty of floor plans and amenities would wear out quickly, he reasoned; the ability to walk four or five days a week would make a longer-lasting contribution to his family’s happiness.

What better reason to get over our foolishly conspicuous consumption and embrace, instead, calculated consumption—buying only what we need and investing everything else in relationships, experiences, learning, giving. If only we could recognize that our material needs were met long ago, and seek new, nonmaterial sources of contentment instead.

Nice idea, isn’t it? And worth contemplating as I put down my backpack and become a householder once more. There are some things I need to buy—a broom, a rug, some weather stripping—but mostly I’m sitting around appreciating what I just unpacked. To quote from Frederic and MaryAnn Brussat’s wonderful book, Spiritual Literacy: Reading the Sacred in Everyday Life,

How different we might feel about our world after making a practice of saying hello and thank you to the refrigerator that hums while it keeps our food cool, to the slippers that warm our feet on cold winter nights, and to the pen that expends all its ink so that we can express ourselves…when we cherish our things, they reciprocate; when we ignore them, they can turn toxic.

No more ignoring. I’m back to cherishing, and it’s a relief!

Anne Basye, Sustaining Simplicity

Sunday afternoon I heard a snippet of talk radio in which the host spoke about what he believes is the coming of higher food and oil prices. For those of us who listen to the news or read the paper this topic may come as no surprise. What struck me about the radio snippet was the tone. It was so fearful and induced fear in me as I listened, even for a moment.

I changed the station.

I began to think about the feeling I got from what I heard and my reaction to it. I started to think, “Okay what if oil and food prices rise? How can I think about it in a way that is empowering, that gives hope, and is grounded in love, not fear?”

Here is my over-simplified answer: a bicycle and a vegetable garden.

Is it convenient for me to ride a bicycle to work? Not at all. Is it possible? Absolutely. When I studied abroad in college I rode my bicycle to school almost every day. It took about 20 minutes and it was so fun. Everyone rode their bike, so you always had friends to travel with, plus it was great exercise. I suppose high oil prices could easily pay me back in good health.  (Did you know that some cell phones can even be powered by the energy created from bicycling?)

Now, have I grown my own vegetables lately? Not since the junior high school bean sprout project. Could I grow my own vegetables? Happily. Over the last year I have read about the sprawl of urban gardening. Although I could plant vegetables in my back yard, I am impressed with how many creative places people are gardening these days. Flower pots on their apartment’s balcony, community gardens, rooftop gardens, you name it. If I planted my own pea patch this year, I could save a few bucks by growing my own organic veggies.

Now, I realize that higher food and oil prices affect far more things than just my vegetables and gasoline. It is a complex issue and this is my very simplified response. The point I am trying to make is that I find it heartening to respond to fear with hope. To look at it from a different angle and to consider the gifts that God has given us in Creation. How can caring for the earth; using its resources sustainably, sharing with my friends and treading more lightly by bicycling or walking, actually cause positive change? How can we approach an issue with a solution that is responsible, sensible, and not fearful?

I suggest we take a minute to look at a situation from all perspectives and consider the solutions that are steeped in faith, hope and love.

It’s been hard to miss the one-year anniversary of the Haiti earthquake in the media this week. For me, it’s gone quickly and I find myself saying, “Wow! It’s been a year!?” I’m guessing many Haitians are looking around the streets saying the same thing but meaning something very different. Certainly there has been progress in recovering, but so much remains to be done.

One of our colleagues in Global Mission, a Haitian national, resigned his post here in Chicago to return to Haiti and help with the recovery. To hear about his family’s experience from his wife’s perspective, check out this video:

httpvh://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k9F9UDXZ9LU

The ELCA and its partners have done a lot these past 12 months, rebuilding homes, providing temporary schools, and preventing the spread of cholera. And we remain committed to the long-term recovery of Haiti, with plans to do much more! To learn more what’s happened these past 12 months as well as what’s underway, visit our Haiti Earthquake Relief web page. Keep praying, and please also consider making a donation. It’s not too late to help!

-Nancy Michaelis

I often see things during my daily life that remind me of the work of ELCA World Hunger. These little things make my brain spin as I consequently try to come up with an inspired blog idea. So I thought I’d share some of these bits of inspiration and reminders of anti-hunger work, and hope that in return you will share some of your own similar experiences.

1. A few weeks ago I was in Copenhagen and as I walked along the cobblestones I noticed a sign on the corner of a building across the street. On the side of the sign it mentioned the ACT Alliance or Action by Churches Together. The ELCA is a member of ACT and we often collaborate with other members to support projects around the world, such as our response to the 2010 floods in Pakistan. As I walked through the store I discovered that it was a very unique mix of coffee shop, fair trade store and vintage clothing shop in one. It turns out that the shop, fisk, supports the work of Dan Church Aid — another member of the ACT Alliance.
2. Today I was at an outdoor store with my brother exchanging one of his Christmas gifts. While he was at the register I wandered past the reusable water bottles where I read a great quote from Benjamin Franklin printed on one of them, “When the well is dry, we know the worth of water.” I admit I don’t know the context of when this quote was originally said, but it made my mind wander. I started to think about what it would be like if my faucet didn’t turn on, or if the rain didn’t fall or what it feels like when I forget to pray. There are many people around the world who know the value of water much better than I do. ELCA World Hunger supports water projects around the world.
3. This weekend I finally buckled down and went through my closet. As I put together a pile of clothes to give away I thought about World Hunger’s emphasis on simple living. It felt good to pare down my life in that way, but also comforting to know that those clothes wouldn’t end up in a landfill, but instead, hopefully, become a positive addition to another person’s life.

What things in your day to day life remind you of the work of ELCA World Hunger? What reminds you of those who could use a little bit of help? What things remind you of our brothers and sisters in Christ who are hungry or are fighting hunger around the world?

~Lana Lile

I love the voices on this blog: Lana eating snow and shopping for a GMO-free meal; David probing our call to social justice; ELCA camp directors talking about the carrots and lettuce their campers are growing, eating, and giving away.

And then there’s me, carrying on about public transportation, old socks and shoes, and how, while we profess our belief in God, we act as if The Market is at the center of our lives.

“Maybe,” Nancy suggested gently the other day, “it’s time to remind blog readers what your topics have to do with World Hunger.”

What a good idea! Even I forget, sometimes, when I get carried away. So, here goes.

Most of my 33 posts since April 2009 focus on stuff: buying and selling stuff, storing stuff, having too much stuff, recycling stuff, giving stuff away, disposing of stuff, and transporting ourselves and our stuff. Recently I’ve looked at our notions about our economy—the role it plays in our lives; the assumptions we make about it; the possibility that the Market, not God, is the deity we really serve.

Figuring out how to reuse or recycle several hundred unmatched socks at Holden Village was my September stuff preoccupation.

My corner of the hunger discussion is our North American lifestyle. It’s about how our overstuffed lives keep us from walking our anti-hunger talk—and sometimes completely contradict the beliefs we profess to hold.

Consider this: Statistics show under our present system, a child born in North America will consume, waste and pollute in his or her lifetime as much as 50 children in developing countries. This good-sized tendril of the root causes of hunger starts in our own backyard.

We Lutherans love to cooperate in starting and supporting water projects in other countries. We rejoice that in Chiapas, Mexico, our support is helping an indigenous community irrigate its fields. Meanwhile, speaking of consuming 50 times more than everybody else, at home we treat our water with little respect. We run our faucets while we brush our teeth, take 10-minute showers, and insist on bright green lawns no matter what the climate. It took three liters of water to make our 1-liter plastic water bottle? 70.5 pounds of water to manufacture (in Asia, probably) a 2-gram, 32-megabyte memory chip and its plastic package? Not our problem!

It’s odd to me that our passion for water in Chiapas doesn’t inspire us to connect the dots between green lawns and the fact that, for example, the United States consumes 95 percent of the Colorado River’s water.  The paltry 1.5 million acre feet of Colorado water we give to Mexico is about what farmers in Sonora used in 1922. They can’t farm; the indigenous living along the Sea of Cortez, where the Colorado once emptied, can’t fish. And how are the farmers down the road from that thirsty computer microchip plant faring? All we know is that we can get a computer for a song at Best Buy, and when it wears out, we can recycle it. We don’t want to know streams, groundwater, and children will be poisoned when an offshore e-waste recycler sends it back to Guiyu, China—increasing the very poverty, hunger and environmental degradation we claim to oppose.

My little blog posts fall under the World Hunger program objective, “to encourage members of this church to practice responsible stewardship of their lives and their financial resources toward the prevention and alleviation of hunger.” To me, responsible stewardship means making sure our left hand knows how the plastic water bottle it plunks  down at the cash register aggravates a situation the World Hunger dollars in our right hand hope to alleviate.

As consumers we are discouraged from connecting the dots between our stuff and its consequences. As Christians, we’re obliged to. Convenience and personal comfort at the expense of others are not gospel values. The opposite is true: the gospel exhorts us always to act with our brothers and sisters in mind.

See? My blogs are not stuff and nonsense, but stuff and challenge. Thank you, Hunger Rumblings. I’m grateful for this space and everyone blogging along with it.

Anne Basye, Sustaining Simplicity

Did you take a few days off during the holidays, or fill every “free” moment with something to do?

Could you use a few more vacation days, or are you under the gun to use them up because you have “too many”?

Whenever I facilitate sessions around time, people get emotional right away. Crazy schedules; expectations that can’t be met at home or at work; fears of being fired for refusing overtime; pressures imposed by software that tracks when you arrive, when you leave, how long your phone calls last, and how long you took for lunch—intense stuff gets shared. These stories reveal a political and cultural system of time that is getting steadily more oppressive.

This system is not outside of but within us. As we live and breathe it, we internalize and try to meet its expectations. Our expectations as consumers, for 2:00 am pizza and round-the-clock customer service, also feed its demands.

Trying to use our time more effectively is a fruitless adaptation. To really free ourselves, we have to ask basic questions, like why?  Lucky for us, we have Sabbath on our side.

God commands us to rest, yes. But not many people are listening. In part that’s due to  Sabbath’s gloomy reputation after long centuries of legalistic, government or church-body enforcement. Few want to embrace rules that keep us from doing what we want to do.

Our incessant busyness is also to blame. Author Wayne Muller says we Americans have no thermostat – no ability to know when to stop. Even worse, says Muller, “In spite of any compelling physical or spiritual benefits, we fear we have no authentic, trustworthy permission to stop. If we do stop to rest without some very good reason or some verifiable catastrophe, we feel guilty, we worry about getting in trouble, we feel we are just lazy, not carrying our weight, not a team player, or will be left behind. If we just put our nose to the grindstone, give it our all, do our best, give 110 percent, really put our mind to it, never give up, and work more efficiently, then we can, and should, be able to get absolutely everything on our desk, on our to-do list, on our calendars, finished, on deadline, without any mistakes, perfectly, every time. Then, we can rest.”

What a fix: no permission to rest, and a Sabbath that sounds boring and restrictive! That’s why I’m resolving to become, in 2011, a radical Sabbatarian, and try to relearn how to accept God’s permission to rest, and rest creatively.

Today, I almost succeeded. After church, I dawdled for several hours with family and friends over coffee, tea, soup, and leftover Christmas cookies. But now I’m sitting at my computer writing this post. So ends the first Sunday of the year; come Sunday two, I’ll try again. My sitting-around skills could use the practice.

In our rest-averse society, this kind of Sabbath is counter-cultural. To me, it has three radical aspects.

First,  “look Ma, no hands”: when we take our hands off the handlebars, the bike keeps going. While we rest, rain falls. Seeds sprout. The world turns, thanks to God. Sabbath can lessen our illusions of self-importance by reminding us who’s really in charge.

Second, by interrupting the “gotta do gotta do gotta do” tape that pounds inside our heads, Sabbath reminds us we are living things who need rest. We don’t have to keep going. We DO have permission to rest. Permission from God.

Third, it affirms our value as human beings. Says Barbara Brown Taylor, about Sabbath: “Test the premise that you are worth more than what you can produce—that even if you spent one whole day being good for nothing you would still be precious in God’s sight.”

Could anything more strongly contradict an economy that confines our meaning to a long dance of producing and procuring?

If we truly devoted Sundays to enjoying our doing-nothing selves, whose interests would be threatened? If we truly stopped, and didn’t spend our time “off” shopping or running from place to place, filling up calendars because being busy means being important, what would happen? How might our economy change? How might we change?

Viewed this way, Sabbath is not a bunch of rules that restrict activity but a powerful, radical tool for combating systems, powers and principalities that damage humans – that refuse to respect humans unless they are working, earning, and spending. And for combating the point of view that the world is ours to exploit, all the time. Sabbath means rest for the earth!

I try to define myself as for things instead of against things. I’m for active transportation rather than against cars, for example. In this post I’ve framed Sabbath as against the extreme demands of our system of time and our economy. But Sabbath is also for something. By asking us to rest, what is God trying to create more of? As a radical Sabbatarian, I hope to find out.

Anne Basye, Sustaining Simplicity

Like many Americans, I have long known the story of Santa Claus, the jolly white-bearded man who fills my stocking on Christmas morning. From the North Pole to Rudolf, I thought that I had my story complete. So I was intrigued when a Christmastime conversation with my Belgian boyfriend provided a new piece of the story.

In the US, depending on the Christmas jingle you listen to, you may refer to the man in the red suit as Santa Claus, St. Nicholas or even Kris Kringle. Well, as I recently learned, Santa Claus comes from the Dutch word for St. Nicholas, Sinterklaas. It turns out that St. Nick is a 3rd century Greek Bishop. He is the patron Saint of children and sailors and is venerated around the world. St. Nicholas is known for his good deeds, his holy life and is even regarded as the Wonder-Worker. Texts that I read often referred to his gift-giving and one described it in this way, “Nicholas gave in secret, alert to others’ needs, and expecting nothing for himself in return.” (www.saintnicholascenter.org)

Fast forward almost a thousand years to modern day holiday gift traditions.

Today, in Belgium, children celebrate the feast day of St. Nicholas (or Sinterklaas) on December 6^th. They place their shoes in front of the fireplace, or at the door, and hope to receive a gift from St. Nick in them. Unlike in the United States, where we hang stockings to be filled on Christmas Eve, many country’s gift traditions occur on the December 6^th feast day.

As our American Christmas gift-giving has become more commercialized, I am glad to discover it has other roots. It is nice to learn about Santa Claus’s saintly ties in the midst of the miracle of Jesus birth. As a poem from J. Rosenthal and C. Myers reads:

“Santa Claus encourages consumption;

St. Nicholas encourages compassion.

…

Santa Claus, for some, replaces the Babe of Bethlehem;

St. Nicholas, for all, points to the Babe of Bethlehem.”

So as we celebrate the coming of our Lord, may we remember the foundation of our Christmas gift-giving in the kindness of a Saint, living out his love for the baby Jesus.

~Lana Lile

This next Sunday (the last Sunday before Christmas–yikes!) we will read about Joseph’s courage and Mary’s faithfulness.   What follows is a reflection on Matthew 1:18-25 that I wrote for our weekly ListServ, “Hunger Sermon Starters” (if you are interested in receiving in your email inbox hunger related reflections on the lectionary, click here to sign up).  Read the reflection and let me know what you think!

Through the faithful obedience of two normal people, with very real struggles and fears, God incarnate entered the world.  How might God’s presence be needed in our world today?  How is God calling us to be faithful?  When we think about hunger and poverty, what might God be calling us to be and do as the body of Christ, God’s hands and feet?

A deeper look at the Gospel reveals an excellent opportunity to think about systems and structures that keep people hungry.  After telling us that Mary miraculously conceived from the Holy Spirit, Matthew is careful to demonstrate Joseph’s piety (1:19): “Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.”  Joseph, for reasons that are not explicit (Was he worried about how it would look for his betrothed to be pregnant? Did he question her fidelity?), wishes to leave Mary once he discovers that she is with child.  Matthew seems to suggest that Joseph’s status as a “righteous” man is protected by his willingness to put Mary away “quietly.”  It was culturally appropriate to abandon Mary, leaving her to be a young single mother on her own.

Allow for a provocative question: How is Joseph’s desire in any way “righteous”?  Matthew’s justification implies that it is acceptable (even proof of one’s righteousness) to leave a young woman to fend for herself and her child, so long as it is done privately.  In spite of Mary’s manifest vulnerability, her health, security, and status are irrelevant.  To be fair to Joseph (and Matthew), he was simply operating in the norms and mores of his society (here we see the systems and structures).  Moreover, Joseph’s faithfulness to God’s call shows his courage in standing against unjust systems when necessary.

Today, in many parts of the world (and yes, in some sectors of the Global North as well), women and children are seen as second class citizens, and can be simply discarded much like Joseph wished to do to Mary.  Women suffer disproportionately from hunger and poverty and are more likely to be abused (sexually and otherwise) and trafficked.    On the flip side, women are multipliers when it comes to effectively addressing hunger and poverty.  Women produce 60-80% of food crops in the Global South.  Yet they are far less likely to own land.  Women are also more likely than men to invest money in their family.  In short, we see a system (in this case pervasive sexism) that perpetuates and exacerbates hunger and poverty.  (For a host of relevant facts and data and some clever media presentations, see www.girleffect.org.)

This week’s Gospel, in my opinion, does not adequately challenge the system (but it does draw us into a discussion of the problem).  But we can challenge the system.  We can give to programs that support education and empowerment of women (ELCA Good Gifts is a good place to start—see https://community.elca.org/netcommunity/page.aspx?pid=474).  We can advocate for laws and policies that protect the rights of women (see www.elca.org/advocacy).  We can educate ourselves and others about the issues (the aforementioned Girl Effect Web site will give you plenty to think about).  Let’s get started!

David Creech

I am sitting in an airplane right now and I just finished watching Eat, Pray, Love…while eating airplane food. It is kind of a funny combination. During Eat, Pray, Love I got soaked up in Julia Roberts eating fresh pasta with perfect tomatoes and all of this from the kitchen of a beautiful, old Italian home. It looked wonderful. Food for celebration, food for health, food for the sake of food, but most important of all was that it was real food. It struck me as so beautiful and incredibly wholesome. Not wholesome in the well-rounded hometown-backyard-America way, but wholesome in the way that plants get planted, picked and cut and this is what ends up adorning a plate, seasoning a dish and nourishing our bodies. And for that matter, nourishing our souls. Good food puts in me a place where my heart is happy. I want to do a better job of eating good food, wholesome food, and make my heart happy while feeding my soul.

So what am I doing? I am eating airplane food. Want to know my secret? I LOVE airplane food. I am not really sure why, but my best guess is that  when I am stuck in a little seat for a long period of time a hot plate of chicken or pasta with a little cookie and my choice of beverage goes a long way. Even though I am tens of thousands of miles away from the land on which or under which, it may have grown. I do not know whether it contains genetically modified ingredients or if it is at all organic. It certainly did not come from my yard and its “wholesome level” is quite a bit lower than that of the Italian pasta in Eat, Pray, Love. However, I cannot help but acknowledge that it makes me happy as well.

Food is a wonderful thing. It is necessary for life and growth. It is beautiful and smells lovely (most of the time!). Food beckons family gatherings and marks special occasions. It evokes emotions, opinions, passions and happiness. Today, Italian food looks amazing – fresh pasta, yum! My airplane food, however, is surprisingly satisfying (except the amount of packaging surrounding each of the dishes is mildly disconcerting.) Food is so many things to me. What is food to you?

Lana Lile, Saturday @ 38,000 feet