“ …; and when he saw him, he felt compassion” Luke 10:33 (NASB).
Across from our hotel room window was the southern wall of the Sheikh Amri Abeid Memorial Stadium. The view behind the stadium is dominated by Mt Meru (Tanzania) which fills the landscape and towers over Arusha from every vantage point, and becomes spectacular when it is lit up at sun rise and dawn. The view of the southern wall of the stadium was anything but spectacular. Depressing, disturbing, heart breaking comes much closer. It was dominated by about ten boys of various ages, street children, who hung around burning piles of garbage to keep themselves warm, pan-handled and pestered people passing by, beat each other up, were robbed of their recyclables by a much larger man, made a racket all night, crawled under feed sacks and card board to sleep for a bit after the morning rush of people going to work slowed, and who finally dispersed into the city for the day.
The south side of the stadium has a stairway that leads to an entrance to the bleachers. The gate on top is tall and securely locked; the gate to the steps from the street has been pried opened a long time ago. The steps themselves are cluttered with piles of garbage and feces, the corners of the landings half way up are used for sleeping. One morning I thought I saw a little puppy amidst the garbage and excrements. Indeed it was a puppy; the little thing came out from the protective shadows to make friends with one of the street boys. But that would just be my mind projecting some quaint and cute scenario onto a harsh and brutal reality. That little dog is just trying to desperately survive. I saw no one on that street who cares about that little pooch, if it gets too close to a foot it will be kicked, if it gets too close to a car it will be run over, and it might just become target practice for the rock throwing boys. It’s odds for making it are slim, much smaller than the odds of it becoming part of the pile of trash on those stairs.
Strange, how I thought that puppy was cute and how I thought those boys were filthy. How easy it was to almost instantly feel compassion for that little dog in contrast to those boys. Even though I don’t think any of those boys chose to be street kids, do you? They ended up being street kids, dumped beside the road of life by Aids, poverty, or a myriad of other sad causes to live desperate, hopeless, hard, and most likely short lives in the margins.
Why is our sense of compassion so fickle? Why do we open our hearts to a little puppy but stick with observation and analysis regarding street kids and the situations like the one behind Sheikh Amri Abeid Memorial Stadium, if that? Why are we tempted to stay inactive and hide behind the fact that there are no easy answers? And why do we ignore the fact that having no easy answers does not mean there are no answers at all? I can care, I can give, I can engage in some way, I can pray.
What do you see outside your window? What is God showing us outside against which we insulate our lives? How is God challenging you to engage, to grow in compassion, to be broken for the broken and the brokenness of our world? How is God compelling us to be like Christ? What’s outside your window?
To God be all glory, love you, Pastor Hans
