“Young, Asian girls for sale” the sign read—a sign taped to the traffic light post at the corner where I cross the street to go to work for the ELCA Justice for Women program during the week. The sign had an address listed with pull-off tabs like you see on ads for garage sales and mismatched furniture, not for people.

I had heard about human trafficking, I had seen specials on television about it, and I had even taken a job to help work for gender justice and against trafficking, but even in all that I didn’t expect to be confronted by a sign advertising girls, like me (I am a Korean adoptee) for sale in my nice, seemingly safe, middle class Chicago neighborhood.

January 11 is National Human Trafficking Awareness Day.

Human trafficking, or modern day slavery, is the second largest and fastest growing illegal trade in the world where people are in bondage through fraud, force, or coercion. Trafficking can and does affect people of every age, gender, ethnicity, and class from every country, including the United States.

Here are some essential facts about human trafficking:
+ 12.3-27 million: people trafficked worldwide. (U.S. State Department and Free the Slaves)
+ $32 billion: total market value of illegal human trafficking (United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime)
+ 70 – 80%: percentage of human trafficking victims that are women and girls (U.S. Department of Justice)

During the month of January, you can help end human trafficking by:

1. Raising awareness about human trafficking in your congregation and community.

Start by visiting the ELCA Justice for Women program website (www.elca.org/justiceforwomen) for worship resources, a bulletin insert, workshop sessions for youth and young adults, and more.

2. Contacting your legislators today through the ELCA Washington Office “E-Advocacy Network” at http://ga6.org/campaign/humantrafficking/386ggesrv7dwmte8?.

Human trafficking is a pervasive, destructive reality that reduces people to commodities to be bought, sold, and abused. Though it is currently a frequently hidden crime, you can help bring trafficking and its perpetrators out of the shadows and into plain sight.

“Consider it. Take council. Speak out.” (Judges 19: 30b)

Thank you.

Peace,

Mikka

ELCA Justice for Women Program Intern

…my true love gave to me a blog retrospective! Here are 12 posts from last year that are worth seeing again (or reading for the first time!):

Most viewed: October 2, 2009, “My final post about stuff (I hope)” and April 28, 2009, “Amextra responds to swine flu”

Forgettable but Enjoyable (Nancy M’s favorite): “At what age did you get eyeglasses?”

Most whimsy: “A little whimsy”

Post that needed more replies: “Songs that inspire” (Well? What songs inspire?)

Personal favorite: “Thanks for the tarps”

Best poem: “My heart is moved by all I cannot save”

Most Resourceful: “Some hunger ed resources”

Most Embarrassing: “Last Friday’s dinner”

Most “Arrrr” Rated: “It’s a living”

Most Self Referred: “How we eat matters”

Best Fundraising Idea: “Skip a latte. Make some change.”

Merry Christmas and happy reading!

-David Creech

At midnight last night, my brother, father, and I set off sparklers by the light of the blue moon.  Like a few million other people in our time zone, we counted down the minutes and then the seconds until the new year began.

New Year’s Eve used to be the only time of year we really thought in seconds. But as everything in our life speeds up—as work days extend to 24/7, as we tap our fingers impatiently for the few seconds it takes to download an email or a web page, as deadlines shorten to yesterday and demands on our present escalate—the seconds and minutes of our present moment are overwhelming our ability to think about the future. Just when we need to get to work creating one that doesn’t kill ourselves or our planet!

Many times when Christians talk about the future, they think about life after death. About 25 years ago, I was standing behind an ironing board in front of a Walgreen’s in Chicago, gathering signatures for an anti-nuclear petition. After listening to my heartfelt pitch, a young woman responded, “As Christians, shouldn’t we be hoping the world will end, so that the reign of Christ can begin?” In 1984, this left me speechless; now I would quote Bonhoeffer: “It may be that the day of judgment will dawn tomorrow; in that case, we shall gladly stop working for a better future. But not before.”

One way to enrich our ability to engage the future might be to begin the new year by contemplating the long, long, LONG view of the future espoused by the Long Now Foundation, formed to “provide counterpoint to today’s ‘faster/cheaper’ mind set and promote ‘slower/better’ thinking.” Its proposed 10,000 Year Clock “ticks once a year, bongs once a century, and the cuckoo comes out every millennium.” “The point is to explore whatever may be helpful for thinking, understanding, and acting responsibly over long periods of time,” says cofounder Stewart Brand. (Remember the Whole Earth Catalog?)

A prototype of the 10,000 Year Clock in San Francisco (see the photo above) introduced me to the possibilities of seeing time as slow and spacious rather than fast and crowded. It seemed to fit nicely with Amitai Etzioni’s call for a cultural megalogue “about the relationship between consumerism and human flourishing,” which I got all excited about in this post. Changing our imagination of the future might change the way we value it, which in turn might change the way we live in our present, and help our society shift away from consumerism.

For how we see time has a lot to do with how we consume. In the New York Times, Damon Darlin recently noted that frugality—poor, maligned, unfashionable frugality—is actually the practice of an optimist. “If you expect good things in the future, you’re inclined to save money for that event. If you are a pessimist, you might as well spend everything now.”  Change the word money to environment, and these sentences still ring true.

Can you imagine how our day-to-day choices might impact the children of our children’s children’s children? My son is only 22. Being a grandmother is something I can hardly imagine. But if I start taking those distant progeny for granted, I might live differently.

Ten thousand years—are you ready?

Anne Basye, “Sustaining Simplicity”

Over the weekend, I saw the movie Up. In it, the boy, Russell, is telling the old man about times spent sitting on a curb, counting cars with his father. He says, “It might sound boring, but I think the boring stuff is the stuff I remember the most.”

It’s not a bad message with which to end a year and start another. Many of us will look back at 2009 and say, “good riddance!” After all, it has not been an easy year. And many will look forward with grand resolutions and hopes for big changes in 2010. But despite the upheavals, surprises, and proclamations that generally attend life, looking back, it may well be the daily routines and simple times that mean the most. So, what boring things marked your life and were memorable to you in 2009? Please leave a comment and share! Here are few of mine:

– walking my daughter to and from school (until it got too cold)
– curling up in our big chair with a hot cup of tea and a good book
– sitting in that same big chair with my daughter, making up stories
– cooking the vegetables from our CSA box each week (and I’m still cooking them, truth be told…)
– watching the local news on TV with my husband at the end of the day

I recently read a book by Forrest Church, who said something like, “If you pray for what you already have, your prayers will be answered.” Indeed, I will pray for these happy, boring routines! Respite, renewal, and meaning are available in small snippets every week if we only remember to notice and embrace them.  They give balance and perspective to the more exciting parts of life, which may be what it takes to get us through.

Wishing you a new year filled with “boring,”
Nancy Michaelis

I started researching what to blog about today by looking at my twitter feed to see if any news stories or aid organization’s post would catch my eye. I was drawn to a slew of articles about Iran’s recent protests. As I read through the articles I began to think about how striking the Middle East is and my passion for learning more about the region…

As an undergraduate I traveled to Turkey with a group of fellow students in search of what we thought would be Saint Paul’s footsteps. As beautiful as the city of Ephesus and the view from Assos were, their echoing of Paul was not the lesson that I brought home. Instead, it was a lesson by another faith. I was mystified by Islam. My two weeks in Turkey took my preconceived notions and turned them upside down. I felt welcome as a Christian to commune with Muslims, maybe this sounds odd, but what I mean is that I discovered the love that runs through our two faiths and connects us. Shortly after my trip, I began to take classes on the Middle East and do research into the similarities and differences between the two faiths. I began to think about all the good that could be done in the world if we were confident enough in our faiths to show love to someone who was “different.”

My thoughts entrenched; I turned back to my twitter feed. I continued to scroll down where I found a new post by The Charter for Compassion. I followed to their feed and clicked on a TED talk link. A man from Pakistan spoke to his audience in India about peace, passion, raising people from poverty – Indian, Pakistani, Sri Lankan, Bangladeshi and Nepalese people – and providing them with healthcare. He made a point of talking inclusively, treating his fellow humans with respect.

I started my research thinking about human rights and protests and ended thinking about compassion and inclusion. When I think about the work of ELCA World Hunger and our partners, like Lutheran World Relief and The Lutheran World Federation, I think about the value of human dignity. I think of the programs that support rehabilitating prisoners into viable members of society, the donations that make it possible to supply relief seed for crop growth, the dedication of three pastors to ride across the country in the name of doing away with hunger, the micro-credit lending that creates opportunity in the face of poverty and the soccer balls given to kids as play helps put a smile on their face. When we talk about development and relief work we are not just helping people who believe in the exact same way that we do. We are walking with God’s children around the world, whether they know Him as we do or not, because we are called to love, and this love moves! We do not educate and advocate simply on behalf of the Lutherans or even the Christians, instead our Christ-filled hearts look wider, seek further and touch deeper than ourselves.

The Charter for Compassion begins…

“The principle of compassion lies at the heart of all religious, ethical and spiritual traditions, calling us always to treat all others as we wish to be treated ourselves. Compassion impels us to work tirelessly to alleviate the suffering of our fellow creatures, to dethrone ourselves from the centre of our world and put another there, and to honour the inviolable sanctity of every single human being, treating everybody, without exception, with absolute justice, equity and respect.”

In this Christmas season we have been given Jesus, let us show His light to the world. Working with and for others does not mean denying who we are or what we believe, it simply means giving the best of what we have.

I was listening to Christmas carols the other day when I reached three conclusions: I would NOT want to be Mary, I don’t particularly like the song “Mary Did You Know,” and it’s probably a good thing most of us don’t know.  In case you’re not familiar with the song, here are a few lines of the lyrics:

“Mary did you know that your baby boy is Lord of all creation?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day rule the nations?
Did you know that your baby boy is heaven’s perfect Lamb?
This sleeping child you’re holding is the great I am.”

First, I’m guessing Mary had a clue something was up, what with the virgin pregnancy and all. So she probably did know – or at least suspected. But secondly, what horrible things to say to a new parent! As if you’re not worried enough about your new, helpless baby and the tremendous responsibility of caring for him. You wouldn’t relax for a second if you thought your baby boy was Lord of all creation! What if you made a mistake? What if you *gasp* dropped the sleeping child, the Great I Am?! As he gets older, do you try to teach him right and wrong, mold his values? Or do you assume that, as heaven’s perfect Lamb, he already knows better than you and you should just try to stay out of the way? How would you begin to raise such a critically important person?

I wouldn’t want to be Mary because I don’t think I could handle the stress of the job. There’s an Amy Grant song that includes a line where Mary questions whether God wishes He had picked someone more worthy. I think I would feel that way every day. I find parenting hard enough with just a regular kid. Which is why I don’t really like the song “Mary Did You Know.” Maybe her baby boy “will one day walk on water,” but is it necessary to keep to harping on it to poor Mary, who is probably worried enough already? Why not just tell her she has a beautiful, exceptional child and leave it at that? Let her carry on with the hope that not knowing allows…

~~~

Working to end world hunger can be difficult and disheartening. There is always a need, and most root causes are systemic and interconnected, and therefore slow to change. Even when everyone agrees there’s a problem, opinions about priorities and approaches can vary broadly, making meaningful change difficult to even start, let alone achieve. Health care reform in the U.S. is a current case in point.

And then there’s my own participation in some of those systems, and the weariness I sometimes feel as I try to make the “best” decisions. Is it better for the environment to repair the old, less efficient dishwasher, or buy a new one that’s more efficient, but that required additional raw materials to make? How were the raw materials acquired? How do the various manufacturers treat their employees? Arguably I shouldn’t have a dishwaher at all. But I want one. When is it okay to buy what you want, even if you don’t need it? Weary, I tell you.

But then other times, we see how the work ELCA World Hunger is funding has made a significant difference in a community, or in shaping legislation, or building understanding and fostering a passion for change. And then I feel the satisfaction and hope of knowing that we have changed things for the better. And I have faith that we can continue to change things if we keep working at it.

But the same way I think Mary is better off not knowing exactly what her child will be, I think we’re better off not knowing exactly when or how things will change. In not knowing, there is neither complacency nor helplessness. There are not expectations that scare into paralysis. Instead, there is room for hope. There is room for faith and the motivation to keep trying, because the breakthroughs – small or large – could happen anytime.  There is the understanding that ending hunger for even one person is an improvement worth striving for.

Christmas is a time of hope and anticipation. May we feel these great gifts woven throughout our lives: in our parenting, in our faith, in our work, and in our fight against hunger.

Have a very merry Christmas,
Nancy Michaelis

I read an interesting article in the NYT Magazine this last Sunday about Robert George, a professor of jurisprudence at Princeton University and leading thinker in conservative Christian circles.  One particular paragraph caught my attention.  Professor George was advising Catholic bishops against talking about the various “social justice” policy issues they had been advocating for.  Instead, “They should concentrate their authority on ‘the moral social’ issues like abortion, embryonic stem cell research, and same sex marriage, where, he argued, the natural law and Gospel principles were clear.”

Now, I don’t want to touch any of those divisive topics, but I must say that I was troubled by the suggestion. First, if we as the church were particularly effective and unified in our concern (and our expression of that concern) for those who are poor, maybe we could direct our attention to other “moral social” issues (and I think there is room for debate for just how clear the Gospel teaching is on the issues he identified).  The problem is, as reported in the article, after his speech to the bishops, they abandoned their push for universal health care and focused on making sure the abortion provisions in the bill were to their liking. Second, I find the clearest Gospel teaching (I mean this in the broadest sense, including the Old Testament, the New Testament, and the Christian tradition) to be related to issues of justice for those who are poor and vulnerable.

Which brings me to the issue of Christian identity.  For any of you who have been following Hunger Rumblings for the last year or so, you know that I would like to see the church’s identity be located in its concern and care for those who are poorest and most vulnerable (I’ve written about it here and here).  I see this as faithful to God’s activity throughout history, beginning with Israel, continuing through Jesus’ mission and ministry, moving into the early church and on into the present day.   To be sure, the church must find its voice in other relevant “moral social” discussions (for the ELCA’s stance on the issues mentioned by George, see this and this and this).  That said, what will we speak loudest about?

Pulling out and washing shelves and crispers, wiping sticky bottles, checking expiration dates and putting everything back neatly in the refrigerator gives a person time to think. So I pondered lots of things yesterday, as I began to make good on my Christmas promise to give my sister a day of cleaning help.

I thought about my agenda, which is to get people to see things differently—to question why they are driving to a nearby store, or turning on a faucet and turning away to do something else, or buying something they don’t need—so they will imagine and practice alternatives like walking or car sharing, respecting water instead of wasting it, or considering the environmental and social impact of the entire lifecycle of a product instead of just exclaiming over its low, low price.

Those thoughts led me to remember an idea I once read about: the idea that a truly “advanced” society stops being mesmerized with tangible “stuff” and invests its assets in intangibles like education, personal development, the arts—so that instead of having homes full of extraneous gewgaws, we have fully developed and expressive people.

Someone has articulated this concept very concisely—someone whose ideas are in a folder in a banker’s box on a shelf in a shed on a farm in Washington State, along with all the rest of my stuff. Alas, that someone is still a mystery—but my internal musings on this subject triggered me to type “hierarchy of needs and consumerism” into the world’s favorite search engine, and lo and behold, up popped a FANTASTIC article along these lines: “Spent: America after Consumerism” by Amitai Etzioni, published in The New Republic last June. Click here to read the whole thing, or consider this Anne-made summary:

Responding to the current economic crisis, Etzioni says that reforming our economy requires us to get over consumerism (“the obsession with acquisition that has become the organizing principle of American life”) and internalize and act on a new “sense of how one ought to behave.” Etzioni’s two candidates for replacing consumerism are communitarian pursuits and transcendental ones.

To Etzioni, communitarianism means “investing time and energy in relations with the other, including family, friends, and members of one’s community” and includes community service. However, it’s not centered on altruism, but mutuality, “in the sense that deeper and thicker involvement with the other is rewarding to both the recipient and the giver.” (The two-way street of engagement is an important part of the methodology of mission called accompaniment that the ELCA uses in global mission.)

Transcendental pursuits are something Lutherans understand: “spiritual activities broadly understood, including religious, contemplative, and artistic ones.”

In order to urge people to skip the mall and go hiking or cook a meal together, we have to help people see that limiting consumption is not failure, but “liberation from an obsession.” And the way to do so is through “moral megalogues.” Etzioni says that societies are constantly engaged in mass dialogues over what is right and wrong that focus on one or two topics; recent topics include “the legitimacy of the 2003 invasion of Iraq and whether gay couples should be allowed to marry.”  (Since June: health care.)

“Megalogues involve millions of members of a society exchanging views with one another at workplaces, during family gatherings, in the media, and at public events. They are often contentious and passionate, and, while they have no clear beginning or endpoint, they tend to lead to changes in a society’s culture and its members’ behavior,” says Etzioni.

What Etzioni calls “the megalogue about the relationship between consumerism and human flourishing” is just beginning, but could get much bigger if “public intellectuals, pundits, and politicians” started to focus the megalogue on this subject and invite people  “to reconsider what a good life entails.”

Forget the wine, the gift cards, the sweaters—this article is what I wanted for Christmas! Now I see how small individual steps, humble articles, blogs with small audiences, church basement discussion groups on simple living can ramp up a megalogue that can shift our society!

I close with my new hero, Professor Etzioni: “Societies shift direction gradually. All that is needed is for more and more people to turn the current economic crisis into a liberation from the obsession with consumer goods and the uberwork it requires– and, bit by bit, begin to rethink their definition of what it means to live a good life.”

Go tell it on the mountain, that Jesus Christ is born, and that the good life is about to be redefined!

Anne Basye,

A great communitarian activity: cooking New Year's Eve supper together

“Sustaining Simplicity”

I just got home from a little trip to get my Christmas cards for the season. Hopefully they will all fly out in the post just in time for Christmas, if not, well then I hope the recipients enjoy a little extended Christmas cheer. This errand of buying Christmas cards, however, was quite special.

My brother is friends with a very artistic couple who live in the next town. They are kind and super fun to hang out with. The wife happens to be an amazing artist, and creates the most interesting and beautiful greeting cards I have discovered to date. Needless to say, I bypassed the store and went straight to her dining room table for my small batch of Holiday cards this year. Of course she also sells her cards through distributors, but it was fun to buy them from the artist herself, and enjoy a little farmer’s market pumpkin pie at the same time.

All this to say there is more to the cards than meets the eye. Each card is printed on recycled paper and 10 percent of the profits are donated to organizations which support peace, compassion, education & sustainability – it’s like each card has a little heart. This little bit of information made my card buying experience just that much better. I hope that each card brings lots of cheer to my loved ones, but I am also very thankful for the 10 percent which will be donated, because when you put it all together one little card equals a whole lot of happiness.

Happy Holidays and I hope that everyone, whether on purpose or by chance, will find a favorite brand of “greeting cards with a heart”.

~Lana

This picture was taken in January, 16 months after Hurricane Felix. The communities on the Atlantic Coast of Nicaragua are still struggling to recover. Scientists predict that should the globe continue to warm, we can expect fiercer and more frequent storms.

I guess I should not have been surprised when Palin came out and denied climate change.  This of course led to a delightful response from Al Gore.  And the blogosphere rejoiced…

So with the Copenhagen meetings climate change is a big topic of conversation.   To kick of the summit, the results of a recent poll were announced in which it was found that fewer Americans believe in climate change than did just six months ago (a fifteen point shift in just six months).  Coincidentally, I was speaking with a climatologist from Iowa State this past weekend, and I asked him if all the recent scientific reports (such as the 2005 IPCC report that unequivocally stated that climate change is indeed happening and 2007 IPCC report that stated that human produced carbon emissions play a role in it) have helped in shifting public opinion.  He told me it’s actually brought more people out to challenge it, especially from energy sectors.

I won’t delve into the discussion, you already know my thinking on it from here and here.  While I appreciate the public debate (I just wish it was more often based on facts instead of ideology, on both sides), I want us to think more about those who are poor and vulnerable (like this story on NPR this morning).  Often the debate is about protecting self-interests–energy consumption and energy independence, national security, economic strength, and so on.  While these are important issues, and may be excellent motivators to actually get something done, I think we fail to see that this is fundamentally a justice issue.  Those who are least responsible for climate change bear the brunt of its impact. They suffer from new disease vectors, fiercer and more frequent storms, changing weather patterns that disrupt crop cycles, among other things.  (For more on the impacts, see our Climate Change and Hunger Toolkit–a ready to go “program in a box” you can use to lead a forum or discussion on the issue.)

In short, whatever the case is about climate change, this topic also gives us a chance to talk about hunger and poverty, and our role in addressing them.  While it is inevitable that our own interests inform our commitment to any issue, I would hope that we can remember those who are on the front lines, those who are poorest and most vulnerable.