I'm Not a Snob...Really.

I am, however, a thoroughgoing geek in many, many ways.

I'm also one of those irritating people who latch on to a subculture and try to worm their way into it with the aid of wikipedia and You Tube videos, so I will confess on the outset that I'm an outsider here.

But I love coffee.

Okay, so what? We all love coffee. Well I love the social institution of coffee, I love what it represents and how it transcends culture. You want to talk about a global village? It is a crowd of very different people, with different values, wearing different clothing, talking about different things in different languages... all drinking coffee.

We love our coffee. In fact, most of us really don't pay a whole lot of attention to what it is we're drinking. But, as with any industry, there is a vast world which exists prior to us scooping it off the shelf or placing our order. This world, I believe, is of particular significance because it is not happening in an R&D lab or a boardroom in some sky rise. It does not exists in a factory in China or a mine in Chicago. It is on a farm in Ethiopia or Costa Rica. And farming means people.

Granted, when we talk about farming today, we're not talking about Almanzo Wilder planting corn with Pa, we're talking about state of the art hybrid-fuel combine's with GPS navigation.

However, coffee is a little different, for two reasons. First of all, coffee is one of the primary exports in many developing nations and the truth is that most coffee farmers in the world simply don't have access to this kind of technology. Human labor is much cheaper and is also abundantly available. Secondly, coffee is a finicky little fruit. Quality arabica coffee doesn't fare well in the jaws of a mechanical harvester, quality coffee is harvested by hand.

I want to talk to you about the hands picking those coffee cherries.




If you've ever spent a summer picking fruit, you know it's not a very glamorous job and it doesn't pay very well. There's also not a lot of upward mobility for farm laborers. The most they can hope for is to own their own small farm someday and even that is out of reach for most.

Quite a jump to the guy listening to his ipod, drinking a cappuccino in the cafe down the street. But, through the magic of international news and information and passionate advocacy groups, that world is getting much closer to us. Thus there's a lot of buzz these days about "fair trade" coffee.

Fair Trade is a great idea. It is important that we are aware, as we sip our steaming cup of Sumatra, that there is a coffee farmer in Indonesia who will work very hard today to earn even half of what we paid for that one cup of coffee. It's important that organizations like the International Coffee Organization work passionately to advocate for coffee farmers.

Because they are people.



Marketers for coffee roasters love to write about the volcanic mountains from which their beans were "hand-picked." They love talking about Costa Rican culture, the history the coffee industry in Kenya or the Ethiopian royalty who used to drink it. You can't help but smile as they paint pictures of the sun rising over misty orchards while elephants and giraffes lumber exotically by.

The trouble is that rarely are farmers getting credit for the marketing hype printed on that bag of coffee. That $12 one-pound bag of coffee very likely sold for less than $1. Even "Fair Trade" coffee.

Now, I can't pretend to understand the coffee market or all of the elements that affect the farmer-roaster-distributor relationship, I'm just a girl who loves coffee and knows how to google. But I can tell you that these things do matter.

Because they are people



 They matter because it is not okay for me to enjoy luxury that barely sustains the life of another human. Just because we are a world away (both literally and figuratively) does not mean we are not responsible for how our consuming habits affect these farmers. Forgive me for the comparison, but just because we don't own a plantation doesn't mean we're not benefiting from glorified slave labor.

However, I would not advocate just going out and buying a bag of Fair Trade coffee and feeling better about yourself because, like I said, Fair Trade is a relative term.

I am advocating caring.

I mean caring enough to really look at where your coffee is coming from, to ask questions and do research. I am advocating supporting organizations that demonstrate a real love for the people growing coffee. Two organizations that I avidly recommend are Land of 1000 Hills Coffee and the One Cup Project. These are two small, Christian, on-the-ground organizations that I believe really put their money where their mouth is.

Land of 1000 Hills supports two farming cooperatives in Rwanda and are in the process of starting one up in Haiti (!!!). For $27 a month you can get two 12-oz bags of fresh roasted Rwandan coffees of your choice in your mailbox (I recommend the Rwandan Medium Roast).

The One Cup Project is an affiliate of Silver Cup Coffee. For every $11 12-oz bag of coffee you buy, One Cup donates $2 to World Vision and, through fund-matching grands from USAID, Care and Land O'Lakes, $11 is generated to fund several projects in Zambia.

These are just two of many options for you. From small socially-conscious coffee shops to specialty blends from major coffee roasters, there are many people out there dedicated to truly giving a fair trade to the people growing the coffee that we enjoy. I urge you to look into what is available to you. Ask the owner of your coffee shop where their coffee comes from, call the roaster but, most of all, follow the money!

If you happen to be in the area, stop by and I'll make you a cup of the yummiest, socially-conscious, Rwandan french-press you've ever had.

--Sarah Elizabeth

Trust: A Culture of Affluence

If you've poked around this blog at all you may have gotten the impression that I have a bit of a "thing" for helping the poor. It's true, I'm just a nice person like that. But the real truth is that, though I sponsor a child through Compassion International and, technically, I am an Advocate for the same, my world is very insulated from the poor.

For the past decade or so, the term global village, has been thrown around quite a bit. The term describes a concept of global, international, cross-cultural unity that is made possible through world-wide network of communications technology. The Internet and the world wide web have brought this concept closer to realization than ever before. But still, a global village is far from a reality. The social, linguistic, and cultural separations between the peoples of the world are still overwhelming.

In my culture, we live in, what I like to call, a "culture of affluence." This phrase came to me while I was reading Richard Stearns' The Hole in Our Gospel. I realized that the chasm that separated me from the poor was made up of more than just physical space. I live in a world characterized by wealth. The having of it, the attaining of it, and the spending of it are the chief preoccupations of myself and my world.

For a staggering number of people in my "global village," 40-50 percent of the world, the chief preoccupation is survival. The difference between wealth and survival is fundamental, they are as different as mud cookies and tiramisu. As I tried to understand the difference, I realized that I had built up some kind of fantasy about what life was like for one of the children for whom I claim to be an advocate. My wealth and culture create such a wide buffer that their lives did not even exist in the "real" world: my world.

For some reason, the subject of clean water was what drove this truth home for me. I had heard the statistic that 1 in 6 people do not have access to clean water before, but still, this did not have meaning for me until I understood the implications. Water is central to life on this planet; we can go for weeks without food but we would only last a few days without water. Survival aside, when I think of how much water I use in a single day I am staggered. Have you ever let the tap run for 15 seconds or more simply waiting for it to heat up? That water is literally down the drain, what if you had walked miles to haul that water?

Not having a well or plumbing means that this morning, before the work and school day begin, the mother and children in a family have had to to haul enough water to do the day's washing and cooking or they would not have water that day. This means walking miles in some cases. This is not Little House on the Prairie, this is January 18th 2011. Before I even woke up this morning, children, sometimes as young as 5, have been hauling buckets of water. Have you ever hauled water? Have you ever hauled water in the predawn chill? For hours? Have you ever tried to go to school afterward? Have you ever spent hours hauling dirty, parasite-infested water in the predawn chill?

No. No, of course you haven't, neither have I. This is why there is a chasm separating us from these people, our neighbors in this global village, that will keep their reality a fantasy unless we can find some way to bridge it. The travesty is that the people living this lifestyle are as numerous as we who are not, yet it is quite possible for those of us living in this culture of affluence to never even consider, let alone understand their situation. For many of us, they simply do not even exist.

Part of the problem is that we like our separation from the poor. Drawing near to such a desperate and obviously unacceptable cultural reality, while we labor over whether to buy the ATV or save the money for Disneyland, is very uncomfortable. When we encounter poverty we also have to deal with guilt and responsibility and I will be the first to admit that I don't like it. I prefer telling others to help the poor. Bringing the responsibility for the situation of the desperate poor into our own house pollutes our way of life and makes it impossible for us to live in the same way we always have, the voice of justice in our hearts requires us to do something about it. Again, I'll admit it's easier to keep the injustices toward the poor a fantasy.

Yet this disparity is more than ethically wrong, it is dangerous. Obviously it hurts the poor, but it also hurts those of us who are rich. We cannot be so widely separated from others and expect to remain unharmed by the divide. We cannot truly accept the humanity of people who are so completely different from us. If we are serious about this concept of global unity, we have to address this disparity and find a way, not as a culture, but as individuals, to narrow the gap. We have to find some way to make the reality for the rest of the world to impact our reality. The alternative is that half of the world will continue to not exist.

This is particularly significant for people like me who claim to care for this cause. If I cannot make the reality of the poor, people I claim to want to help, impact my life in a real way, then I am worse than a hypocrite. This is the next step of my journey to trust (and it is very specific to me): God is asking me how willing I am to experience the reality of poverty, if I am willing to separate myself from my culture of affluence in order to better love the rest of the world. This does not mean He is calling me to a life of poverty, but He is calling me to seek a living faith in Him, a life of freedom from money, and a life of true compassion.

Practically this means living "abnormally:" living simply, without the waste and excess that is unique to a culture of affluence. Because I love my lists, I've already started several lists of things to sacrifice on the altar of my works, things like my car, sleep, eating out, and other luxuries that 40 percent of the world does not have access to. While these things may become part of my reality I have to remind myself, and urge you as well, if you are also so inclined, that God is looking for the sacrifice of a changed heart before the outworking of a changed life. Please do not fall into the trap, as I so often do, of assuaging your conscience by heaping up good works. You will be disappointed and skip over the better part God has for you. Pray first, and then do.

However, do not be afraid of letting your faith have a practical outworking. Nothing brings richness and substance to prayer and faith like an outpouring of practical love and compassion. If the subject of clean water is of particular interest to you, you can access more information, including how you can be part of the solution, through Compassion International (via their partnership with Healing Waters International) or World Vision.

I also cannot end without the request to consider sponsoring a child. There is no easier and quicker way to make the reality for half world your reality than by inviting a living, breathing child into your life.



Next Post: A Curveball

Haiti: 1 Year Later

"Dear Jesus, please bless India, Haiti, and Uganda. Please help the poor people to get money from the rich, and help the rich not to mind."   --Adrianne, 7

"Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it." --Luke 18:17

I feigned a more pious prayer by burying my head in my hands as Adrianne prayed. The truth was I was embarrassed by my tears at her prayer. As I explained my reaction to her simple, pure prayer of faith for the people of Haiti and for the poor to her parents, longsuffering smiles appeared on their faces,

"Yes, she prays almost that exact prayer every night."

Every night. This sweet, beautiful girl prays for Haiti every single night. "When was the last time I prayed for Haiti?" I thought in panic. A few days ago? Last week? "But," I comforted myself, "I talk about Haiti a lot. I blog about it. I send money." Isn't that always the way? We so quickly tire of "just praying." We either feel a need to do "more" or we simply get frustrated with praying the same prayer every night, as God has called us to do, and move on. I realized, as we marveled at her unwavering faith that, what we write off as simplicity or a lack of creativity, God sees as faithfulness, faithfulness that puts me to shame.

God help me to be more like Adrianne.

On January 12, 2010 Haiti was hit with a 7.0 magnitude earthquake. This disaster came on the heels of a catastrophic hurricane season and was followed by severe aftershocks and a year filled with devastation and disease.

A year has passed and God has been amazingly faithful. Much has been done, but Haiti is still in severe distress. Even a cursory glance at photos or the first hand accountsof those who are currently serving in Haiti makes this painfully obvious. Educate yourself, let your heart be broken for Haiti, let yourself be moved.

Please join Adrianne and continue pray daily for this deeply troubled country, pray for the hurting people, pray for the leadership, pray for those in Haiti who are working tirelessly not only for healing and reconstruction but for lasting and sustainable justice and security in a country that has never experienced such things.

For some great information on the state of Haiti today, World Vision has a comprehensive one year report available here. You can also watch this short video from Richard Stearns, president of World Vision: Haiti Earthquake 1 Year Later.

You can also donate to help Haiti through Compassion International: Haiti Earthquake Relief Fund. Current photos of Compassion's work in Haiti are available at haiti.compassion.com.

But if simply giving money is not enough for you, you can now sponsor a child from Haiti or from an equally desperate region. Child sponsorship is not an investment in a cause, rather it is an investment in a person. When you write your letters and send your support, you are telling that child that you believe in them, that you choose them. The value is incalculable though the cost is right around $1 a day.

For a firsthand account of the impact of encouraging a child in poverty, you can read Elissain Jean Jacque's story here.

If you do not currently sponsor a child, I deeply encourage to you seriously consider doing so. It is one of the greatest things you will ever be part of. If you do sponsor a child, pray about sponsoring another! Visit www.compassion.com or www.worldvision.org to find out more information.

"But whoever has this world's goods, and sees his brother in need, and shuts up his heart from him, how does the love of God abide in him? My little children, let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth." --1 John 3:17-18

God, may we be moved not by guilt or by a need to "do something" but by your spirit. Lord, may we not tire in the work that you've put before us, may we not tire of being brokenhearted for the people of Haiti.

God, please help us all to be more like Adrianne.

Thanks for loving Haiti,
--Sarah Elizabeth

Why We Hate the Poor

"The poor man is hated even by his neighbor but the rich man has many friends."
Proverbs 14:20

"What do you mean, we 'hate the poor?' We don't hate the poor; we're Christians, we wrote the book on this stuff!" It is true that Christians, more than many, have an intense awareness of poverty and feel a greater social obligation to help the poor, Ghandi notwithstanding. But there is a big difference between helping the poor and loving the poor.

In fact, part of the reason that giving to charity feels so good is that it reaffirms our distance from poverty. We prove that we are not poor by giving to them out of our wealth. The last thing we want to do is jump into the squalor and live with them. The last thing we want to do is identify with the poor man.

Now, hate is a very strong word, one we like to put on par with words like "murder," and rightfully so:

 "Whoever hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him." 1 John 3:4.

But, consider for a moment the way we view poverty. This issue is not quite so simple as giving to charity or feeling bad for the dying children in Uganda. It is not so simple as voting a particular way. This hate is much more insidious, its roots go deep into our humanity and is closely tied to what we believe to be true about God's role in pain and suffering.

When we see an individual living in squalor, we are intensely uncomfortable; our instinct is to run away. We try desperately to find a reason for their situation: they didn't work hard enough, they picked a bad industry, they made bad decisions, they aren't willing to work beneath themselves, they like getting unemployment or welfare. Or we explain what we would do differently in that situation. Or we simply try to think about it as little as possible, anything to distance their existence from our own. To prove to ourselves that we could never be in that same position.

There's a story we love to forget in John 9 when Jesus and his disciples encounter a man who had been blind his entire life. The disciples asked Jesus whether it was for his own sins or the sins of his parents that he had been so cursed with this disability. Jesus rocked their world with his response: 

"It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him. We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world." John 9:3-5

We see the same thing in the story of Job. Job's friends saw his death-defying plunge from a place of wealth, blessing, and honor to sitting in the dust scraping his sores with a shard of broken pottery. They could not bear the idea that God would do this to a good man, so they turned on Job and tormented him with their ignorant piety. They turned him into a bad man so they could deal with the pain, poverty, and suffering in his life.

But Jesus doesn't let them off the hook, "Not so fast!" He says, "This guy isn't blind because he's a sinner, He's blind because I chose to make him blind." He then explains that there is something greater than this man's plight at work here. He pulls the focus off of the blind man and says, "This here? This is about ME." 

By making suffering His own action rather than a reaction to something we've done, he takes control away from us and puts us all on the same level. And that's a scary thing. But until we can freely acknowledge that God has absolute control in our lives and in the lives of those around us, we cannot experience Him fully. We are trapped by our own fear in a static, legalistic existence and can never truly experience His grace.

We elevate to sainthood those who have chosen to suffer and die for the sake of the Gospel. Foxe's Book of Martyrs is just a tiny fraction of the more famous martyrs and those stories alone are overwhelming. But what about those who, like this man, never made that choice? We may be able to shake off a bit of the discomfort by saying that he, no doubt, was a sinner and was able to understand the amazing miracle that had taken place in his life.

But what about the children born into poverty who are never given the knowledge or the resources to overcome their circumstances?  What about the babies dying of AIDS? What about the millions of broken men and women who have been afflicted with poverty, pain, and disease who, instead of experiencing healing and rejoicing in the glory of God manifested in their life, turn their backs on Him?

These are the kinds of questions that make us squirm when non-Christians ask them. These are the questions we don't particularly like to ask when we are Christians. We like to respond with affirmations of God's goodness and omniscience, but it is not good enough to shrug off the discomfort and move on, God doesn't let us off the hook so easily. God is not satisfied with that, He wants use to jump headlong into that frightening place where things simply do not make sense...

...and to stay there.

So what happens when, instead of blaming the poor for their poverty, ignoring the problem, instead of making our monthly donation we hang out with them in their poverty? What happens when we take that burden of suffering, doubt, confusion, and frustration upon ourselves?

It changes us.

Don't think so? Ask Richard Stearns about what hanging out in that place did to him. Ask my friend Dan Merchant. Ask that guy who just got back from two weeks in Haiti. "Helping the poor" doesn't change their world so much as it changes ours.

Like the first week (or month) of Calculus when you want to quit because nothing makes sense, like the 10 minutes (or 30 minutes) of a 5k, this is not a fun time. It does not make it easier that you don't suddenly wake up one day understanding everything. But painful experience by painful experience, choice by choice, you come to a better understanding of the character of God. It never makes complete sense, but as you spend time with people in their difficulty, as you see the grace of God pushing impossibly through the pain, disease, and poverty, you slowly come to a place you've never seen before; a place where God's grace and love and justice is entirely fresh and new. Its a tedious, painful, messy, beautiful path and but there is no other path to that place.

God lays the suffering at our door and says, "Look! This is the reality and, yes, I could have prevented it. Now what are you doing to do about it? Are you going to try to explain away the reality of suffering? Are you doing to close your eyes and stick your fingers in your ears? Maybe throw some money or condolences at it while you slam the door? OR will you get down into the dust and help this guy scrape his sores? Will you let him ooze all over your couch? Will you acknowledge that you and he are the same in my eyes?"

"Will you let me teach you something new about my grace?"

Don't hate the poor because you are afraid. Don't sit in your affluence (or sufficiency!) and pray desperately that God will preserve it. Don't just write your check and try to forget. Open your eyes and your arms and let God teach you something new.

For there will never cease to be poor in the land. Therefore I command you, 'You shall open wide your hand to your brother, to the needy and to the poor, in your land.' Deut 15:11

Gift a gift that lasts this Christmas from Compassion International or World Vision but don't stop there. Start a tedious, painful, messy, beautiful journey into God's grace.