By Doug Hayes

Church history has taught us that ministries of mercy are often erroneously equated with evangelism. Even today, some would say that we proclaim the gospel by meeting physical needs, breaking the chains of oppression and setting people free from multigenerational conditions of poverty and suffering. At best, evangelism is an afterthought; at worst, it’s not a thought at all, or it’s presumed to be inherent in deeds that reflect God’s justice and mercy.

On the other hand, some would claim that it’s not the mission of the church to care for the poor at all. They would view a strong emphasis on social justice as inherently worldly, an exchange of the eternally glorious, life-giving gospel for the culturally popular goal of making poverty history. The job of the church is to evangelize, not to combat poverty. After all, they might argue, what good is it to fill the stomachs of people who are on their way to hell?

So which one is it? Is the church to be concerned with evangelism, or is care for the poor supposed to be a high priority for God’s people?

Yes.

It is the job of the church to preach the gospel, and it is the job of the church to care for the poor. Too often, these two high callings are treated as an “either-or” proposition, but Scripture calls us to a “both-and” embracing of the two. We are called very clearly to preach the gospel, and we are called very clearly to serve the poor. One should not be done to the exclusion of the other, nor does our obedience to one fulfill our mandate for the other.

It’s important to recognize the difference between evangelism and mercy ministry. They are members of the same family, but they are not one and the same. The former is the all-important proclamation of the gospel, the latter a demonstration of the gospel’s effect on the life of the one who would proclaim it. Both are beautiful displays of the many-faceted mercies of God, whose compassions come in many colors though they flow from one source in the cross. And both are priorities that must find expression in our lives if we are to be faithful to our calling as disciples of Christ.

I believe that we as Christians need to become more comfortable with the fact that God is glorified through our merciful actions, regardless of whether or not they lead to the salvation of the person we’re ministering to. If you faithfully care for a suffering friend or family member over a period of years, yet that person dies without Christ, you have not wasted your time. You have greatly glorified God through perseverant, merciful action! This may seem like a startling statement at first, but Scripture does not command us to serve marginalized and suffering people merely as a pretense for evangelism. We care for the poor as a means of reflecting the merciful and loving character of God. When we faithfully do that, his name is glorified. The eternal results are his alone to determine.

Does this mean we’re off the hook for evangelism? Can we simply care for people’s physical needs and leave it to God to make the gospel known to them? No. The greatest mercy of all – the mercy that makes all other mercies possible – is God’s desire to forgive repentant sinners through faith in Jesus Christ. If we neglect this greatest mercy, can we honestly call ourselves compassionate people?

When Paul and Barnabas received their commission from the other apostles to take the gospel to the Gentiles, they were specifically exhorted to "remember the poor" (Gal. 2:10). Despite their primarily evangelistic mission – in terms of salvation history, perhaps the most important evangelistic mission ever – they were not excused from the priority of serving the poor.

And don’t you love Paul? This man is not looking for excuses! Rather, he says that remembering the poor was the very thing he was eager to do. Regardless of his unique role as evangelist and church planter, Paul was eager to be a “both-and” Christian.

Where the gospel is preached, it is to be accompanied by care for the poor. Where the poor are relieved of their suffering, it is to be done in the name of Christ with the good news of the gospel on our lips. May these two towering mandates of Scripture be for us – as they were for Paul – the very thing we are eager to do, for the glory of God and the advancement of his kingdom.

By Doug Hayes

As many readers of this blog will already know, I’ve committed myself to running my first-ever full marathon this year. 

Actually, let me rephrase that… I’ve committed myself to attempting to run my first-ever full marathon.  My pledge to you is that I’ll leave it all on the course; if I don’t finish the entire 26.2 miles, it will be because they had to carry me away!  But I can’t promise you the result.  I’ve never attempted a physical feat of this magnitude before. 

Why would a 42 year-old running novice torture himself in this way?  Believe me, I’ve asked myself that very question during many a training run!  There are only a few things that could inspire me to run 26.2 miles, and one of them is the hope that it might bring in significant funding for our work with nearly 1,000 orphaned children in Uganda, Zambia, and Ethiopia. 

Last year, I was one of 22 runners who ran for Covenant Mercies in our inaugural Run For African Relief, collectively raising nearly $20,000!  This year, we’ve shortened the name to RunFAR, and increased our fundraising goal to $50,000.  To achieve that goal, we will need lots of runners to sign up for races of various lengths (5Ks and 10Ks are fine too!), in various geographic regions.  And we will need those runners to delve boldly into their relational networks to ask people to give financially in support of the great cause they are running for.      

To keep the fires of inspiration burning for those who decide to participate, and to keep you apprised of my progress as I prepare for my race, I plan to post video training updates on the RunFAR web site occasionally over the next several months.  If you enjoy Doug-deprecating humor, you will probably like these.  The first video, which explains the RunFAR concept and reveals the identity of the personal trainer who will be abusing me between now and November, is now posted online.  You can view it here. 

Just a few days ago, as my 20-week training program officially began, I battled through my first five-mile run of the year.  I wanted to stop almost immediately after starting, and my mind was bombarded by one excuse after another.  It was a hot day.  I was tired.  I had been doing physical labor all weekend.  I didn’t want to do it, but in the end I stuck with it and managed to finish. 

When trying to talk myself out of quitting on a day like that, it always helps me to remember that the hardship I’m embracing (for a very brief season) is miniscule in comparison to the lifestyle of struggle faced by those I’m embracing it for.  It is good, right, and appropriate for a comfortable, privileged one such as me to endure a bit of pain by choice, in order to bring help and hope to those for whom it is an everyday reality. 

I’m looking for a few good men and women to join me.  Will you be one of them? 

By Doug Hayes

After 130-or-so years of history and only 18 perfect games ever pitched, Major League Baseball has recently witnessed two – and very nearly a third – all in the space of a month.  A perfect game is when a pitcher retires every single batter he faces in a full 9-inning game.  If anyone reaches base for any reason at all (even a fielding error by one of the pitcher’s teammates), the standard of perfection is violated.  It may be a stellar performance, but it’s not a perfect game. 

Amazingly, in the recent near-miss, it wasn’t a hit or a walk or even a teammate’s error that cost Detroit Tigers pitcher Armando Galaragga his place in baseball immortality.  After facing 26 batters and getting 26 outs, the 27^th batter topped a weak grounder to the right side.  It was a close play at first, but the call from the umpire was “Safe!” and just like that, the dream of perfection was lost. 

On the replay, however, it was clear from every angle that the runner should have been called out.  It’s a play that umpires will see correctly 999 times out of 1,000, but this blown call came at the worst possible moment.  After the game, the umpire broke baseball protocol and went to the Tigers locker room to apologize – through tears – for his error.  

But this is where the story turns beautiful, as Galaragga’s attitude was even more astounding than his pitching performance.  Those of us who are accustomed to seeing players throw temper tantrums on the field probably would have excused one in this instance.  We certainly would have understood a bit of righteous indignation after seeing the replays that clearly showed the umpire’s call to be wrong.  “Nobody’s perfect,” Galaragga said, when asked for his response to the blown call.  He gave the tearful umpire a hug to make him feel better.  His reaction was remarkably gracious, and it has won him more favor than a perfect game ever could have achieved. 

I don’t know whether Armando Galaragga is a Christian, but he appears to understand something about the relationship between justice and mercy.  James said, “For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy.  Mercy triumphs over judgment.” (James 2:13).  For Armando Galaragga, justice would demand a perfect game.  If this rightful outcome has been rendered impossible by an umpire’s bad call, then some sort of condemnation should be in order… at least a sneering comment indicating that mere apologies can’t undo the damage.  There’s no going back now to restore the perfection that should have been. 

But mercy recognizes that we are all flawed.  In my interactions with my fellow man, mercy must triumph over judgment because I am also in need of mercy (sometimes by the boatload).  The moment I begin requiring perfection of others is the moment I have lost touch with how merciful God has been toward me. 

There can be a temptation, when attempting to care for people who are suffering because of their own sin or poor decisions, to limit mercy based on judgment.  This often masquerades as an alleged love for justice, but it forgets what Armando Galaragga remembered… none of us is perfect.  None of us have received what we truly deserve.  I shudder to think of what my life would be if not for innumerable expressions of God’s grace, giving me good where I have not merited it with my actions.  I surely would have made a shipwreck of my life by now, if not for the restraining mercy of God.  I wouldn’t even be around to write this blog post.  Mercy has most definitely triumphed over judgment for me!  How could I possibly demand perfection of others?  

 

Armando Galaragga may never have another chance to complete the perfect game he justly deserves, but he has done us a far greater service through his attitude than anything he’ll ever do with his million dollar right arm.  Blessed indeed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. 

By Doug Hayes

I believe my primary calling as a pastor and church leader is to raise the profile of “the poor,” and to lead materially-prosperous Christians in taking initiative toward them… for the blessing of both the recipient and the giver.  This is what I love to do, and I pinch myself regularly as I consider the dream job I have in leading Covenant Mercies.

But another calling has emerged as I’ve become a regular visitor to some of the poorest nations on earth, and developed friendships with people living in some of the poorest rural villages and urban slums those nations have to offer.  I like to refer to it as my secondary calling, and it has to do with the way we think about “the poor” whom we are serving. 

There is a tendency in the affluent West to define Africa (and Africans) almost exclusively through the prism of poverty.  Most of the images we see in the media accentuate themes of suffering and need:  AIDS, war, hunger, poverty, death.  Reality, yes; but far from the whole story.  I believe I am called not only to spearhead efforts to address these serious needs, but also to round out the picture we see when we think of our African brethren.    

Walking through an Ethiopian slum, it’s difficult to overlook the indignities of life there.  Living in close proximity to open streams of sewage, putting on clothing that is little more than rags… these things can take a toll on a person.  But they can never eradicate the true dignity and beauty of people made in the image of God.  This is particularly evident in the children, who may be living in the most deplorable conditions but who always find ways to play, to giggle, and to be joyful in the simple pleasures of life.  Portraits of Hope is one effort to round out this picture.

You may think of Portraits of Hope merely as a fundraising event.  It certainly is that, and I hope people will arrive with checkbooks open, ready to give generously toward our ministry to orphans in Uganda, Zambia, and Ethiopia.  But this is so much more than an opportunity to bring in needed funds.  David Sacks has a wonderful gift for drawing out the beauty and dignity of his subjects.  While you will see evidences of poverty in the images on display, you will more often take note of the irrepressible joy, beauty, and dignity of people made in the image and likeness of God.  In fact, their beauty is made all the more notable by the spare backdrop of their hardship.    

That’s why we call it Portraits of Hope, and that’s why I see it as an investment into both my primary and my secondary calling.  Your attendance will be a blessing both to you and to them.  Hope to see you there on May 21^st! 

By Doug Hayes

A few years ago I almost drove off the road as I was listening to an NPR report about public outrage over the rising cost of cable television.  A service that had cost my Dad about $7/month when he first signed up during the early 80s was now taking a much heftier chunk out of people’s budgets… and they were livid.  Consumers were demanding that the government step in to regulate the cost of cable TV, and the government was actually doing it!  

As someone who has never been a cable TV subscriber, I found this somewhat bewildering.  When was cable adopted into the family of air and water, which the government has an interest in ensuring for all citizens?  I guess Sting was right… we want our MTV!  And we will even use the coercion of government to get it at a price we can afford.  

Wherever you may fall on the spectrum of opinion regarding free markets vs. government regulation, surely you will agree that a person who doesn’t like the increasing cost of cable TV has the option of simply canceling the service.  While one cannot stop using air or water, it’s difficult to argue that Comcast’s Triple Play belongs in the same category.  I was reminded of this liberating truth recently when I received a letter from a sponsor in our Orphan Sponsorship Program.  We’ll call him Stan.  He was writing to let me know how glad he was that he had prioritized the sponsorship of his child over his MTV.  In his own words:

“Canceling my Television and giving this money to support a child is one of the best things I ever did.  It makes me feel glad I can do this, and I don’t miss my TV at all.”

Stan went on to say that he’d recently lost his wife of 61 years.  In such circumstances, many people would use TV as a comfort, as noise to fill the emptiness of an all-too-quiet house.  But he is more content to invest that money into the life of a child whom he will never meet in this life.  In this, Stan reminded me of the early church in the book of Acts.  

Have you noticed the way the early Christians sacrificed for the needs of others?  Multiple times in the Acts account, we hear that there was not a needy person among them because they were actually selling their possessions to be able to give to others.  And this practice that began for the benefit of their own friends and neighbors eventually spilled over for the good of unknown people far away, as they heard of an impending famine in Jerusalem and gave generously toward the saints there (Acts 11).  

I have had to ask myself… when was the last time I sold some of my possessions so that I’d have more to give to others in need?  Honestly, I don’t know that I’ve ever done that.  Most of us tend to have enough cushion in our budgets to give without feeling much pain.  But I wonder if the current economic tightening isn’t an opportunity to grow in giving like the early Christians gave.  

This kind of giving can be countercultural and liberating.  I don’t know the specifics of Stan’s situation, but apparently his budget presented him with a choice between continuing his Sponsorship or continuing his TV service.  He didn’t have enough to fund both.  Our consumerist culture would tell him that life won’t be the same without his cable TV (or without 4G phone service, or fill-in-the-blank with the next cool innovation to come down the pike), but Stan knows better.  He has chosen to “be generous and ready to share,” and in so doing he has taken hold of “that which is truly life” (1 Tim. 6:17-19).  He has chosen wisely, and he would testify that it’s one of the best things he’s ever done.  He doesn’t miss his TV at all!  

After all, it isn’t air or water.    

By Doug Hayes

I’ve been accused of consulting the Farmer’s Almanac for the timing my recent three-nation African tour, enabling me to get out of Dodge just before the skies opened up and dumped a historic accumulation of snow on our region.  Those uncharitable assumptions aside (I can’t help it if I’m lucky), my brave wife deserves a lot of credit for sending me off during such a time.  Not once did she ask me to turn myself around, come back home, and grab a shovel.  

My wife’s gracious response is partly due to the fact that she is a godly woman who understands her role as sender to be every bit as important as my role as go-er.  But her response to these challenging circumstances also points to the ministry of the body of Christ, our local church family, which kicked into high gear while I was half a world away.  

Truth be told, Rachel is always well cared for when I’m traveling.  We have a long list of friends who have insisted that she call if there’s anything she needs.  Often she has had no reason to take them up on their kind offers, but this time opportunities were in abundance.  Keep in mind, these are men with their own families, driveways, roofs, and gutters to worry about, taking time to concern themselves with mine.  There’s nothing like three feet of snow to bring out the best in the body of Christ!

When I arrived back home, I made a point of thanking everyone personally who helped my family while I was away.  One brother replied, “I felt in some small way that I was reaching Africa with every shovel full of snow.”  Now, I think he was also quite simply extending Christian love to my family and me, but his sentiment captures a beautiful truth about the way the body of Christ works.  All of us have different roles, capacities, and spiritual gifts, which provide us with various opportunities to serve.  Some of us may consider our roles fairly mundane, like shoveling snow.  But here’s the thing… as we serve one another faithfully in the role God has called us to play, we acquire a stake in the larger work the body is doing.  

Not all prophesy, not all preach, not all travel to Africa to build programs for orphaned children.  But as we serve one another according to our varied giftings, we all make a genuine, indispensible contribution toward the overall ministry of the church.  My friend was not merely shoveling snow at my house; he was making it possible for me to travel to Africa in February, confident that my family would be well cared for in my absence.  In that sense, he truly was “reaching Africa with every shovel full of snow.”

The same truth applies to every person who supports the ministry of Covenant Mercies or Covenant Fellowship in any way.  Perhaps you wish you could fly over there and lay your hands on those precious children yourself.  The reality is, if you give money so that David Mayinja or I can go, if you volunteer your time on the home front, or if you commit yourself to holding us up in prayer, you have made a contribution that is every bit as vital!  That may be hard to believe, but it’s absolutely true.  The whole body is built up, strengthened, and launched into service as each part does its work.  

When people thank me for the work I’m doing, I almost invariably reply – after making a point to receive their encouragement and gratitude – “We’re doing it together.”  Those aren’t obligatory words meant to deflect praise or project false humility.  Rather, they are my way of recognizing the beautiful reality that everything I do in ministry is only possible because of the participation of the broader body.  Nothing I do could be done by me alone.  

We’re reaching Africa together, through shovels-full of snow, through prayers, through gifts large and small, through words of encouragement, through time volunteered sacrificially, and through myriad other ways.   This is a body work, or it’s nothing at all. 

By Doug Hayes

Whenever I’m visiting Covenant Mercies’ international programs in Uganda, Zambia, and Ethiopia, I always take at least one day to walk around the neighborhoods where the highest percentage of our children live.  Most of the children in our Orphan Sponsorship Program live full-time with extended family members, so my visits represent wonderful opportunities to observe the interactions of our field staff with the children and their guardians, and get a feel for the conditions our kids are growing up in. 

 

Today, as we walked through a slum neighborhood in Addis Ababa, I reached out to knock on the metal gate outside one of our children’s homes, caught a couple of my fingers on a jagged edge, and started to bleed.  As soon as my condition was evident, everyone around me jumped into action to help.  On a normal day, I would have stopped them all immediately because I travel with band aids and antiseptic cream in my backpack.  But today, since my luggage is somewhere only Ethiopian Airlines knows (or rather, I wish they knew!), I was unprepared to meet my own need.  My friend Tesfaye ran to a nearby shop to purchase band aids.  The grandmother whose home we were visiting rushed inside to grab some cotton balls and rubbing alcohol.  Quicker than you could say “Neosporin,” my wounds were cleaned and bandaged, and I was sitting down for coffee. 

 

The traditional Ethiopian coffee ceremony is a delight for all the senses, and always an enriching experience on many levels.  It’s a humbling thing to enter a cramped shanty – with dirt floor, walls a patchwork of cardboard, plastic, and mud, and a makeshift roof pieced together with corrugated metal and plastic grain bags – to sit down, and be asked with great insistence (commanded may be more accurate) to stay for coffee and bread.  One might be tempted to decline on account of the disquieting thought of taking bread from someone who has so little.  “I don’t need this.  I eat too much already.  Maybe it would be better if I just gave them some money to fix the roof before rainy season.” 

 

I have long since abandoned such thinking, and I find the coffee difficult to turn down.  In fact, I believe that in most cases the best thing I can do – for my host and for myself – is to receive with gratitude.   

 

There’s something “equalizing” about sharing your need with others, especially others whom you perceive to be more needy than yourself.  I might be tempted to take on a “hero complex” toward those we are serving in Ethiopian slums, while they might be tempted to play the role of the helpless aid recipient.  When a woman jumps at the opportunity to clean my wounds or meet my need for refreshment, this is a demonstration of her dignity as a suitable contributor, and an opportunity for me to humble myself and receive.  Her actions have enriched me, and  I am indebted to her.  This is good medicine for both of us.  The ground is level at the foot of the cross.

 

I think I’ll continue traveling with band aids, but I was kind of glad I didn’t have them today.  And as for the coffee… smooooooooth is putting it mildly.  Don’t be too rich to receive it.  If you are, you may be more impoverished than you think. 

By Doug Hayes

The year was 1963.  Outraged by a story he’d read in the newspaper, a young Bob Dylan sat down in an all-night café and penned the words to one of his most moving and brilliant songs.  A well-connected white man had killed a poor black barmaid in a fit of anger over a drink, and the ensuing trial had resulted in a slap on the wrist.  The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll is not only an exceptional piece of songwriting, but also a surprisingly insightful treatise on biblical justice.    

Verse one sketches the grievous incident in no uncertain terms: 

William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled ‘round his diamond ring finger…

The words depict a tragic event that surely must have evoked many tears.  But the chorus concludes begging the listener to refrain, for there’s an even greater tragedy yet to come: 

Take the rag away from your face
Now ain’t the time for your tears.

Verses two and three juxtapose the high position of the scornful perpetrator with the lowly social status of his innocent victim.  After hearing of a killer who “reacted to his deed with a shrug of the shoulders, and swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,” we are certain that our tears should flow when we’re told of Carroll, who…

Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That flew threw the air and came down through the room
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger. 

But again, in the chorus following each verse, the songwriter bids us wait.  Now ain’t the time for your tears.  The events depicted are heartbreaking indeed, but the tragedy of tragedies is still to come. 

In the fourth and final verse, we enter “the courtroom of honor,” where the judge pounds his gavel “to show that all’s equal and that the courts are on the level.”  A white man may be able to kill a black woman in the barroom.  But in the courtroom, black and white are irrelevant; justice is the one and only concern.  There, the judge…   

Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feeling that way without warning
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.

Now, finally, we are granted permission to grieve.  The fourth and final chorus concludes differently from its prior three renderings:   

Bury the rag deep in your face
Now is the time for your tears. 

The point?  Injustices will happen in a fallen world.  Because of the sinfulness of man, it’s a virtual guarantee.  There is little we can do to prevent it from happening.  But God has ordained government to restrain evil and entrusted it with the sword of justice to answer when the blood of an innocent victim cries out from the ground.  In the case of Hattie Carroll, the “courtroom of honor” did not answer.  Her death in itself was tragic, but the greater tragedy was the fact that there was no justice for her. 

Today is the 37^th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, a decision rendered by America’s highest “courtroom of honor” denying justice to its smallest citizens. 

Now is the time for your tears.

As we grieve the loss of 50 million lives to legal abortion since 1973, let us renew our commitment to work tirelessly for the protection of the unborn.  And let us pray that one day, though a world without abortion is not possible until Christ returns, the laws of our land will again reflect justice for the weakest, most vulnerable among us. 

By Doug Hayes

 

I recently read a book written by the president of a large Christian relief and development organization.  It was well-written and compelling.  I was moved to tears on more than one occasion as I read of the author’s personal transformation through the power of the gospel.  I agreed with nearly all of what he said and was personally challenged. 

 

However, the main point of the book, expressed concisely in its title – The Hole in Our Gospel – could be summed up in this way:  if we preach the gospel to a lost and dying world without engaging in good works toward the poor, there is a hole in our gospel.  The “whole gospel” includes not simply a call to repentance and faith in Christ, but also a corresponding lifestyle of compassion and justice toward the poor. 

 

Wow – that’s an attention-grabber to say the least!  But is it accurate to describe the gospel in this way?

 

I submit that it’s both inaccurate and unwise to speak of the gospel in this way.  The gospel is the good news that, though we are sinful people who will always fall short of God’s glory and moral standards, we can be forgiven and restored in our relationship to Him through faith in Christ alone.  The author makes it clear that he believes this to be true, yet says there’s a hole in our gospel if we fail to take action toward the poor. 

 

There are many things that are true of all genuine disciples of Christ, because of the gospel.  But the fact that they are true because of the gospel doesn’t make them part of the gospel.  For example, I am called to be a faithful husband and father to my wife and daughters because of my identity as a disciple of Christ.  This is an implication of the gospel that I cannot escape!  But it wouldn’t be right to say that the gospel includes this.  We don’t preach, “Turn from your sins, place your faith in Christ, become a faithful husband and father, and God will accept you.”  My faithfulness in these areas makes an important statement about the validity of my faith, but it is not the gospel itself.

 

This may sound like hair-splitting, but I believe it’s an essential distinction that we must preserve lest we dilute the gospel of its power and meaning.  The very essence of the gospel message is fact: Jesus has fulfilled the moral commands of God on our behalf, even though we have universally fallen short of this righteous standard.  His righteousness, not ours, merits our salvation. That’s what makes it such good news!  To say that the moral commands of God are included in the gospel clashes with its central meaning and erodes the “goodness” of the good news.    

 

So… does this spring us from our responsibility to alleviate the suffering of the poor?  If you know me, you will know that’s not what I’m saying! 

 

I believe with all my heart that God’s burden for the poor must find expression in the life of every Christian.  We would indeed have a hole in our Bibles if we denied this recurring Scriptural theme!  There would be a hole in our discipleship, if we denied our calling to reflect the many-faceted mercies of God toward those who suffer in poverty.  There may even be a hole in our faith, if our profession of Christ is not authenticated by a transformed life in the areas that are important to God (just read James chapter 2 if you doubt me on that one). 

 

But the gospel message remains unchanged, regardless of the degree to which we understand and apply its implications in our lives.  Let us be careful to preserve the borders of this glorious message, even as we work to embody all its essential effects in our lives.     

By Doug Hayes

 

Editor’s Note:  Doug is training for and running in two half marathons for Covenant Mercies.  To learn more, check out his original blog on this here.

 

When I left for Africa in September, my suitcase was full of running clothes.  I needed to maintain a training regimen that I had found difficult to maintain even at home.    Now, running in Africa earned me a lot of puzzled looks (except in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia - distance running capital of the world!).  The more rural the area, the more strange my behavior seemed.  My running in rural Uganda evoked the most smiles, laughter, and head scratching. 

 

It wasn’t simply the blinding whiteness of my legs that struck them as so unusual… it was the running itself.  You see, in rural Uganda, life is exercise.  So much energy is expended simply carrying out the tasks of daily survival, the thought of going out of one’s way for exercise is a strange thought indeed.  Daily life is exercise enough.  

 

Many times, I’ve questioned my own sanity and felt like quitting.  I’ve thought, “You don’t need to do this! If you were to stop now and simply decide this was a bad idea, life would go on.”  When battling such thinking, I have often wandered back in my mind to those puzzled stares in Uganda.  The hardship of their life is the reason my behavior seemed so strange.  Could it be good for me to endure some hardship so that they might benefit?   

 

I am accustomed to a life of ease.  My 5-6 mile commute to work, preparation and enjoyment of three square meals (okay, my wife prepares most of them), and drawing of water for drinking/bathing are daily tasks that require little effort on my part.  For the average person in rural Uganda, the same tasks are a backbreaking ordeal, and they often consume most of one’s energy and time in a day.  I don’t feel guilty about this contrast.  It’s a great blessing to have the mundane tasks of life made easier; there’s nothing to be gained from an ascetic desire to give up conveniences for the sake of renouncing them.  But it’s helpful to remember that these are blessings…not birthrights.  And it may be helpful to consider whether embracing a certain element of suffering or discomfort could be a net positive for my spiritual health.   

 

I’m not looking to over-spiritualize the act of running.  However, there can be something enriching about enduring a bit of discomfort that I don’t need to endure, with a direct connection to others who routinely endure such hardship as a matter of survival.  To suffer with them as a choice could be a guilt-ridden act of aesthetic noise, but it could also be profound expression of biblical compassion: suffering together with another while alleviating their need. 

 

Have you ever considered doing something like that?  Are there certain conveniences or luxuries that you could intentionally forego as a means of identifying with others in need and alleviating their suffering?  For example, there’s nothing wrong with going out to lunch at work, but what if you fasted one day a week and gave the savings to serve orphans lacking access to a good, nutritious diet?  There’s nothing wrong with Starbucks coffee, but what if you chose to forego this privilege (or some other beverage you enjoy) for a season, giving the money you save to bless communities lacking access to clean water?    

 

These ideas aren’t just clever ways to raise funds.  They’re actually a means of “suffering with” the ones whose suffering you intend to alleviate.  And you might just find, as I’ve found with my running this year, that there are many side benefits you hadn’t anticipated. 

 

For while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come.  (1 Tim. 4:8)

By Doug Hayes

This summer I bought a new pair of running shoes. 

Anyone who knows me well can confirm that this is not a regular occurrence for me.  I will wear a pair of sneakers until a hole in the bottom starts destroying my socks, or the flap of a disconnected sole starts tripping me up as I walk.  Some people call this being cheap.  I prefer to think of it as stewardship (“let him who has two pairs of shoes share with him who has none.”).  In truth, it’s probably a little bit of both.

So why have I purchased a new pair of running shoes this summer?  A couple of months ago, Joel Shorey started trying to convince me to train with him for a half-marathon in November.  A challenge had gone out in the Singles community of the church, and Joel wanted a training partner to help him prepare for the run.  As the most athletic member of the pastoral team (that’s not saying much), I was Joel’s natural selection.  But I wasn’t ready to commit. 

Sensing my hesitation, Joel skillfully motivated me by guilt, embarrassment, and inquiries into my masculinity, finally convincing me to “man up” and join him in his quest.  But truth be told, I had another motivation. 

In St. Louis, some dear friends of Covenant Mercies had decided to organize a run – with options available from 5k to half-marathon – as a fundraiser for the ministry.  They did this completely of their own initiative, and scheduled it for October 10.  This gave me an idea.  I could actually run a marathon this Fall!  And how does a 40-year old ex-athlete (emphasis on the ex) run a marathon?  He runs the first half in October, and the second half in November!  I realize all you running enthusiasts are going to say this doesn’t count, but for me this will be a great accomplishment!

So what does this have to do with my sneakers?

On my third training run with Joel back in April, I learned a lesson.  40 year-old men in the worst shape of their lives shouldn’t start training as if they’re 20 year-old men who’ve taken a small step backward in their physical fitness.  Even worse, they shouldn’t attempt to do it in old, beat up running shoes that don’t quite fit.  On a cold April morning (I did stretch… honest!), we were less than a mile into our run when my left leg decided to protest the beating I was putting it through without sufficient preparation.  A sharp pain halfway between my calf and my lower Achilles forced me to rest for several weeks (best guess at diagnosis: Achilles Tendinitis), and a three-week trip to Africa with the subsequent jetlag set me back even more.  But now I’m ready.  I’ve got a new pair of running shoes, a smarter training plan, and a thousand kids in Africa who stand to benefit from my efforts if I can get myself into shape and actually complete this marathon (in two parts) in the Fall.

Beginning in August, you will be able to track the progress of my training on CovenantMercies.org, find out how you can get involved personally in the run, and learn how you can give toward our fundraising goal if you are so inclined.  For now, please just pray that my Achilles will hold up, and pray that Joel doesn’t shame me into doing anything stupid before I’m ready.  

Anyone else looking to get in shape? 

Editor’s Note:  The status of Doug as “the most athletic member of the pastoral team” is currently under review…and far from certain.

By Doug Hayes

As I write, I am 40,000 feet above the African continent reflecting on a fruitful visit to Zambia while inching ever closer to my next stop in Uganda.  I’m also reflecting on my gratitude to God for our sponsors, who are quite literally changing the lives of the children in our Sponsorship Program through their generosity. 

Each time I’m in Zambia, I spend a Saturday walking through Chipulukusu and Nkwazi with Charles Muwaya (coordinator of our Sponsorship Program there).  These are the two slums on the fringes of Ndola where the majority of our sponsored children live.  I have often thought of these compounds as exactly the types of places Jesus sent us when he said, “When you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you.” (Luke 14:13-14).  Some of the world’s most marginalized people live right here.  And Jesus, consistent with the values of his upside-down kingdom, instructs us to take initiative toward them precisely because they cannot pay us back.  This, we are told, will lead to blessing and great reward in the life to come. 

Much like Nazareth in Jesus’ day, many have said, “Can anything good come out of Chipulukusu?”  Children growing up on this compound tend to remain within the clutches of extreme poverty for their entire lives.  The government school in their neighborhood is called Chibolele, a word that means “rotten” in the local language (imagine putting that on your résumé). 

Materially speaking, the guardians of these children have no ability to repay the kindness you have shown them by helping to care for the fatherless grandchildren, nieces and nephews they have welcomed into their homes.  The children themselves can only receive, thoroughly incapable of reciprocating the generosity you have lavished on their lives by sending them to school, giving them improved nutrition and healthcare, and inspiring them to hope for a brighter future. 

As the “representative head” of Covenant Mercies’ army of sponsors, I am blessed to be repaid – at least to some degree – in this life.  There are few things more rewarding than seeing the smiles on the faces of the children we’re supporting, or receiving the overwhelming gratitude of their guardians.  Last Saturday in Chipulukusu, one elderly grandmother literally danced and clapped her hands as she thanked me for sending her granddaughters to school, for supplying medicines so the ringworm could be eradicated from the younger girls’ scalp, and for countless other kindnesses extended through our program.  Meanwhile, the girls beamed with beautiful smiles as my friend David Sacks snapped photos of them for our next Portraits of Hope event. 

When I have these sort of experiences, I never fail to remember that I am merely a face representing hundreds of others who have been moved to extend care to those who cannot repay their kindness, and whom they may never meet in this life.  It is a great encouragement to soak in the smiles and the gestures of gratitude, but this is an encouragement that you should feel as well.

At the resurrection of the just, I wonder whether part of your reward might be to receive firsthand the words of thanks and expressions of joy that I am privileged to receive on your behalf for now.  If you are sponsoring a child through Covenant Mercies’ program, thank you for the sacrifices you are making to make your child as a priority in your life.  Surely, you will not lose your reward. 

I wish you could see me now.  I’m dancing at 40,000 feet, just like a Zambian grandma. 

If you are interested in more information about our Sponsorship Program, simply click HERE.

By Doug Hayes

 

Next time you have an opportunity to spend time with an infant, run a little test.  Hold a brightly colored toy in front of the baby’s face until it grabs his attention, then move it quickly behind your back.  At 6 months of age, the infant will simply move on to something else as if the object no longer exists. 

 

At 9 months to a year, the child will look for the toy and possibly even crawl around behind your back to find it.  That’s because he has acquired what child development experts call object permanence:  the knowledge that an object continues to exist even when it is out of sight. 

 

Prior to the development of object permanence, it is truly “out of sight, out of mind.”

 

Living in the suburbs can lead us to an “out of sight, out of mind” mentality toward the poor.  We’re pretty comfortable and typically pretty busy, so it’s easy to forget that our experience is not shared by most people in the world.  Suffering under injustice, multi-generational poverty cycles, and disease is common.  We need to develop what Gary Haugen calls compassion permanence:  the capacity to remember the needs of those who are suffering…even when they are out of our immediate sight.  

 

Compassion permanence is not best motivated by guilt.  We are not to feel guilty that we live like this and they live like that.  Compassion permanence is best motivated by cultivating a heart for the poor that resonates with God’s heart for them. 

 

How can we cultivate compassion permanence?

 

- Adopt God’s Heart of the Poor: Develop a sensitivity to the many biblical references to the poor, the orphan, the widow, and the disposition of God toward them.  Consider these examples:

Psalm 72:4 - May he defend the cause of the poor of the people, give deliverance to the children of the needy, and crush the oppressor!

Luke 14:13-14 - But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, 14 and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you.

When you read these verses, don’t think, “That’s the way it was in biblical times.  That’s not the world I live in.”  That is the world you live in.  The fact that this side of the world is outside the realm of common experience only magnifies the need to intentionally remember.  God’s Word can help us to do that.     

 

- Take Action: In addition to remembering the poor, we are called to take action on their behalf.  Jesus said, “I was hungry and you gave me food… I was sick and you visited me.”  Those are action words!  Biblical compassion doesn’t simply empathize with the poor; it takes action to alleviate their suffering. 

 

- Give to the Work:  Another means of serving the poor (and taking action on their behalf) is financial giving.  Let’s be honest… even in these uncertain financial times, God has given most of us resources far in abundance of our needs.  I can only believe he intends us to emulate the example of our selfless Savior, emptying ourselves of material riches so that others might know the riches of his mercy and grace.

 

Alongside all of these ways to cultivate compassion permanence must be prayer.  We must do whatever is necessary to remind us to pray for the poor around the world.  Notes on the fridge…post its in your Bible…reminders on your Blackberry or laptop.  If we are faithful to pray for the poor, they will never be out of our minds…even if they are out of our sight.

 

As Covenant Mercies’ makes regular contributions toward this blog, we will attempt to help in the struggle we all have to cultivate compassion permanence as a church.