Reflections on Red Bird
I've been back now just a couple of days from Red Bird Mission. It's easy to forget the things we saw and learned while we were there. Once we get back into the "normal" world, the mountains and the life there can seem so distant. So, before I forget, I want to make note of some things that struck me in southeastern Kentucky.
POVERTY IS A MINDSET. Perhaps more than any other trip there, this time I realized that poverty is not about having money or not having money. Poverty is a mindset. And often it's a generational mindset, handed down as a "possession" from one generation to another. My father was poor, and therefore I am poor. My family has always been poor, so therefore we will always be poor. And so it goes. Priorities are interesting. They have money for DISH TV, but not for basic home repairs. They have money for cigarettes (by the carton!) but not for food. Ours is not to judge, and I tried not to. In many cases, the families may not have all they want, or all we think they should have or want, but they often have the basics. What they lack is hope. Hope that things can be better. Hope that something can change. And even when Red Bird volunteers come in and help, hope is hard to grab onto. We can fix a bathroom or repair a window...but we can't force someone to have hope. We can't give someone the motivation to try to make life better. To be sure, there are economic forces at work in the mountains (little to no industry exists because companies don't tend to locate there, so therefore jobs can be scarce), but on both sides, poverty starts as a mindset.
HOPE LOOKS LIKE PRACTICAL HELP. When we bring food, when we do repairs, when we engage in a conversation...whether in Appalachia or at home...we're offering the most important thing there is. Most if not all of these folks in Appalachia believe in Jesus. Many of them are people of strong faith (though it might not be the standard brand of Protestantism we would recognize). But whatever hope they have been given is apparently tied to the "sweet bye and bye" rather than to the here and now. So we offer practical help, hope in a tangible form.
BAPTISTS ARE MORE VISIBLE THAN METHODISTS IN THE MOUNTAINS. I found it deeply ironic that, while Red Bird Mission has been there since 1921, and while Red Bird Mission is a United Methodist mission project, every church we passed in our driving through the mountains (and we passed a lot of them) was a Baptist church. With the exception of the day we spent in Berea, I didn't see a single United Methodist Church anywhere we went. Many of the people we helped attend the Baptist churches. This is not about competition, but I can't help but wonder where the evangelical witness of the Methodists is. Why are there not churches (and I'm sure there are, but they weren't where we could see them) sharing the Gospel in addition to offering practical help? Again, don't get me wrong. I'm glad for every Christian witness that exists there. But, being a United Methodist, I can't help but wonder where the link between evangelical faith and social witness has been lost in the mountains.
THE QUIET OF THE MOUNTAINS CAN BE QUITE PEACEFUL. Many days, the only noise we heard around us came from our power tools. There were moments when I would just sit and soak in the beauty and the quiet that was all around me. No cell phone ringing, no cars driving by, nothing to break the peace. For an introvert like me...absolute joy!
BEING TIRED AND WORKING HARD CAN MAKE PEOPLE GRUMPY. Enough said.
More reflections tomorrow...
POVERTY IS A MINDSET. Perhaps more than any other trip there, this time I realized that poverty is not about having money or not having money. Poverty is a mindset. And often it's a generational mindset, handed down as a "possession" from one generation to another. My father was poor, and therefore I am poor. My family has always been poor, so therefore we will always be poor. And so it goes. Priorities are interesting. They have money for DISH TV, but not for basic home repairs. They have money for cigarettes (by the carton!) but not for food. Ours is not to judge, and I tried not to. In many cases, the families may not have all they want, or all we think they should have or want, but they often have the basics. What they lack is hope. Hope that things can be better. Hope that something can change. And even when Red Bird volunteers come in and help, hope is hard to grab onto. We can fix a bathroom or repair a window...but we can't force someone to have hope. We can't give someone the motivation to try to make life better. To be sure, there are economic forces at work in the mountains (little to no industry exists because companies don't tend to locate there, so therefore jobs can be scarce), but on both sides, poverty starts as a mindset.
HOPE LOOKS LIKE PRACTICAL HELP. When we bring food, when we do repairs, when we engage in a conversation...whether in Appalachia or at home...we're offering the most important thing there is. Most if not all of these folks in Appalachia believe in Jesus. Many of them are people of strong faith (though it might not be the standard brand of Protestantism we would recognize). But whatever hope they have been given is apparently tied to the "sweet bye and bye" rather than to the here and now. So we offer practical help, hope in a tangible form.
BAPTISTS ARE MORE VISIBLE THAN METHODISTS IN THE MOUNTAINS. I found it deeply ironic that, while Red Bird Mission has been there since 1921, and while Red Bird Mission is a United Methodist mission project, every church we passed in our driving through the mountains (and we passed a lot of them) was a Baptist church. With the exception of the day we spent in Berea, I didn't see a single United Methodist Church anywhere we went. Many of the people we helped attend the Baptist churches. This is not about competition, but I can't help but wonder where the evangelical witness of the Methodists is. Why are there not churches (and I'm sure there are, but they weren't where we could see them) sharing the Gospel in addition to offering practical help? Again, don't get me wrong. I'm glad for every Christian witness that exists there. But, being a United Methodist, I can't help but wonder where the link between evangelical faith and social witness has been lost in the mountains.
THE QUIET OF THE MOUNTAINS CAN BE QUITE PEACEFUL. Many days, the only noise we heard around us came from our power tools. There were moments when I would just sit and soak in the beauty and the quiet that was all around me. No cell phone ringing, no cars driving by, nothing to break the peace. For an introvert like me...absolute joy!
BEING TIRED AND WORKING HARD CAN MAKE PEOPLE GRUMPY. Enough said.
More reflections tomorrow...
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