I brought my lunch with me to work today: spaghetti and meatballs. I had cooked it right before I left, so it was still warm when I got to the church (those of you who know me realize that I usually don’t waste the time to re-heat food) and I sucked it down while trying to finish this Sunday’s gathering. Afterward, I printed something off in the main church office. While in the main office I realized that there were a couple cookies left over from a funeral reception earlier this week. Since I was at the funeral I figured, hey, I can have one of those cookies. I picked up a big chocolate chip cookie and it was the consummate end to an already satisfying lunch.
I listened to a podcast today by a guy named Steve Chalke. He’s from London and thus he sounds extremely bright with that British accent. I found myself silently agreeing with him from time to time, enjoying his accent and message. He helped found Oasis Trust and Stop the Traffikand was informative and funny. Steve’s message was on Genesis 1, on man and woman being made in the image of God — all men and all women — and that we have a responsibility to live that out today: to treat others as image-bearers, to give dignity and respect to everyone, to stop human trafficking.
Steve gave statistics on trafficking: human trafficking made more business that Microsoft last year, there are over 17,000 people trafficking every year in the United States primarily for the sex industry (which is probably a gross understatement, since no one puts “sex slave” on their census forms), 50% of worldwide trafficking is in children. It was enough to move me, but almost too much information to get me to act.
Then, Steve gave an action point. Which is nice. Or convicting.
He said that at least 12,000 kids have been trafficked into the Ivory Coast from Mali and are working as slaves. A little research of my own shows that 284,000 kids are working in the Ivory Coast and other African farms in hazardous conditions. The trafficked kids, the other children in hazardous conditions all work on cocoa farms, where we get our chocolate. About 43% of the world’s chocolate comes from the Ivory Coast.
I think about my chocolate chip cookie today. Maybe the cocoa was picked by enslaved children. Maybe it was picked by children period. Maybe not — but I’m sure that some of my chocolate has been.
What to do? Only eat fair trade chocolate. As consumers, we vote with our wallets. When William Wilberforce fought to stop the slave trade in England, he encouraged everyone to stop eating sugar and show the plantation owners that they cannot hold slaves. Today, we must do the same: stop eating chocolate that we cannot account for and eat only chocolate with the logo on this page.
I want to make a difference with the way I spend my money. I want to communicate that everyone is made in the image of God. I want to live this way all the time, even when I’m eating a serendipitous chocolate chip cookie in the middle of a Friday.
June 27, 2008 at 10:54 pm
‘There must be a thousand shadows in my room. Every object, every fixture, every doorknob. Even the moon leaves a shadow on my wall,’ he said. ‘Yes,’ I agreed with him, looking around; there were many shadows. He always kept the windows open so the light would shine through and it only made sense that there were shadows. ‘I have been counting the shadows of the leaves for hours, and there are thousands of them alone,’ he said; ‘I used to have two trees outside my window, but I don’t know what happened to the second one. I think it got sick and they cut it down. If it were still here, if it weren’t too sick to grow leaves, there would be a thousand more shadows.’ ‘I think the shadows of the leaves, flickering as they do in the slightest breeze, are quite lovely,’ I said. ‘Yes.’ ‘But you seem upset by them.’ ‘I am.’ ‘Why?’ I asked him. ‘Look at all these shadows. Everything in this room casts a shadow, except for me. If a thousand or more little leaves can each cast a shadow, why can’t I?’ ‘Perhaps it is that a leaf does not expect or look for its shadow; perhaps it is because it is not trying to cast a shadow. It is just trying to feel the sun,’ I said. ‘But I am letting in the sun,’ he said, and he stood directly in it; but he cast no shadow. ‘What does it feel like?’ I asked him. ‘It feels like it should cast a shadow!’ he exclaimed. ‘But it is not light that will cast a shadow in this world; it is far too easy to let in the light,’ I said. ‘Then what is it?’ ‘The warmth.’ Then he sat there, trying to be warm, but he was too busy counting the shadows of leaves and looking for his own shadow. And when he still could not cast a shadow he asked me just how one goes about being warm. I told him it is much like a lizard basking on a hot rock in the sun. He agreed, and he proclaimed he was already that lizard. So I said it is also much like a lizard basking in the sun on a hot rock who moves down to the cold earth when the rock is too full for least of the lizards among him. ‘But then I would be cold and lonely.’ ‘Yes, I suppose you would,’ I said. Then he went back to counting the shadows of the leaves.
July 1, 2008 at 2:44 am
A rhino always stands prepared to charge and attack. And I was so afraid of rhinos for the first part of my life because of this. Because a rhino will always get you. Yesterday I was looking at the rhino who was about ready to charge me, and I was noticing all the other rhinos behind him. I heard the snorf of his nose and his hooves pelting the ground. He was charging toward me and I was looking at all the other rhinos and I was thinking how nice it would be if humans cared that much for humans. For the rhino charges to protect any rhino he is with. But I have noticed lately that humans are just families. Just one man and one woman, or maybe a child or two, and that is all. And even when there are a thousand humans standing together, they are still only a thousand families of one, two, three, four. Whereas the rhino is not one or two or even ten. The rhino is millions. And that is why I was so afraid when he came charging for me. And that is why I was smiling when he came charging for me. Because I was thinking that maybe when he killed me, I would come back as a rhino and I would never be alone again.