16 Decisions

No, I haven't changed my mind about New Year's Resolutions ... I've been reading Muhammad Yunus' Creating a World without Poverty. I have to say it's one of the most inspiring books I've read in quite some time. In case the name doesn't ring an immediate bell with you, Yunus is the founder of Grameen Bank in Bangladesh, pretty much the inventor of the idea of microcredit for the poor and winner, along with Grameen Bank, of the Nobel Peace Prize in 2006.

One of the things that struck me reading Yunus' account of the evolution of Grameen Bank was the 16 Decisions that every member of the bank pledges to follow. They support the agenda of social transformation -- Grameen Bank is not simply about lending money to poor women, but about lifting families and villages out of poverty. I'm going to quote them in their entirety, because they form such a powerful statement of how a society mired in poverty can be transformed. And they made me think about how those of us trapped in affluence might formulate a similar set of decisions to help us swim upstream in our own culture:

The Sixteen Decisions:
1. The four principles of Grameen Bank -- Discipline, Unity, Courage, and Hard Work -- we shall follow and advance in all walks of our lives.
2. We shall bring prosperity to our families.
3. We shall not live in dilapidated houses. We shall repair our houses and work toward constructing new houses as soon as possible.
4. We shall grow vegetables all the year round. We shall eat plenty of them and sell the surplus.
5. During the plantation season, we shall plant as many seedlings as possible.
6. We shall plan to keep our families small. We shall minimize our expenditures. We shall look after our health.
7. We shall educate our children and ensure that they can earn to pay for their education.
8. We shall always keep our children and the environment clean.
9. We shall build and use pit latrines.
10. We shall boil water before drinking or use alum to purify it. We shall use pitcher filters to remove arsenic.
11. We shall not take any dowry at our sons' weddings; neither shall we give any dowry in our daughters' weddings. We shall keep the center free from the curse of dowry. We shall not practice child marriage.
12. We shall not inflict any injustice on anyone; neither shall we allow anyone to do so.
13. For higher income we shall collectively undertake bigger investments.
14. We shall always be ready to help each other. If anyone is in difficulty, we shall all help.
15. If we come to know of any breach of discipline in any center, we shall all go there and help restore discipline.
16. We shall take part in all social activities collectively. (pp. 58-59)

I've spent a little bit of time in South Asia, and these commitments struck me not simply as nice ideals -- the way I feel about my daughter repeating the Girl Scout oath -- but as a powerful counter-cultural statement by people who have decided that they no longer will live under the oppression of poverty. They are practical (grow vegetables; dig latrines) and measurable. They are radical (rejecting dowry and all the enslavement to debt and endangerment of girls that goes along with that practice). They are commitments to community and to hope.

I was in Las Vegas this weekend for a family wedding. With the worst of American culture's enslavement to greed, lust, entertainment and consumption on vivid, neon-lighted display up and down the strip, I began to think that anyone choosing to move out of that oppression into the freedom of the Kingdom would need some simple, direct statements about their day-to-day life, too. The kind of affirmations people stick on the bathroom mirror or repeat at 12-step groups. Maybe 16 is too many; maybe not. Grameen's list evolved out of the experience of people striving to escape the grinding poverty of Bangladesh in the 1970s and 1980s. I can imagine neighbors talking to one another, urging them to stand firm in their decisions. This is life and death for our families: We will send our kids to school; we will take the time to boil water. There is no going back to disease and despair. As hard as it is, we must move forward.

There is something in me that wants to take a stand against the forces of materialism that would have me fritter my life away in shopping malls and in front of the TV. It rises up in me as the need to say NO! to the lies of the advertisers offering convenience and something bigger, better and newer. I want to have some friends who stand with me and remind me that my kids do not need that new gizmo or another set of lessons. I want to worship with brothers and sisters who do not believe that Jesus came to make me a better consumer of religious goods and services but an active participant in the expansion of his Kingdom in this world.

So here's my question: What would be on your list of 16 (or however many) Decisions for Kingdom Living? I have some ideas I'll share in few days, but first it's your turn.

Google Meme

I've been out of town for the weekend, and actually have some thoughts to write about when I'm not so tired, but I saw this meme at Kingdom Grace and wanted to have a go at it.

I was tagged by Bill Lollar to do this meme. So I took a few minutes to check it out.

Google your full first name and the word "needs" like this - "William needs" - and then post the first 10 things that Google finds.

So here's what Maria needs…

1. On second thought … that one seems X-rated, and this is a family-friendly blog. Moving right along…
   
2. Maria needs further surgery (thankfully, not me)
   
3. Maria needs – Leicester (huh? I think that's a city in England … pretty sure I don't need it)
   
4. Maria needs a job (not yet, anyway)
   
5. Maria needs your love
   
6. Maria needs your help
   
7. Maria needs your prayers (am I seeing a theme developing here?)
   
8. Maria needs you (now we're getting to the point)
   
9. Maria needs shadow to save (again, huh?)
   

and my personal favorite…

1. Maria needs diamonds
   

On that note, I'm going to bed and will hope to write something profound another day…

Desire

I was standing in front of the altar waiting for communion. The manger scene was still set up, right in front of me. I was making surreptitious glances to the right to make sure I didn't goof up when the elements came to me. I wasn't expecting the realization that hit me that moment -- how much I wanted Jesus -- baby Jesus, crucified Savior, risen Lord.

Somewhere in the dark of last winter, there was a Sunday morning when I opted out of church and walked on the beach. The darkness was spiritual and emotional; I think it was a sunny day. A smooth pebble caught my eye and I bent to pick it up, and then another. My handful of rocks reminded me of another beach, encountered at the end of a chaplaincy internship at Children's Hospital. A rock for every deathbed I attended, every child whose family I connected with at some level. Tossing rocks as far out into the waves as I could, I said their names and grieved and tried to let them go.

I tried to name my frustrations and griefs as I picked up rocks. False promises -- a daily quiet time and you'll always have God's peace. Disappointments -- why is church the hardest place to make true friends? My pockets were getting a bit weighed down as I approached the slough. I turned toward the incoming tide and started launching. Done with that one. Give up that expectation. I can live without devotions, without church and its trappings. Finally I was down to one smooth stone. Its name was "desire" -- my desire for God. I looked down at it, turned it over in my hand a few times, put it back in my pocket.

So now on Sunday mornings, I stand with a handful of brothers and sisters and open my hands and receive. Body and blood, food from heaven, forgiveness and grace, life.