Resolution of Thanksgiving

Earlier today, while spending time with Tucker's family, my father-in-law remarked that he had read a challenge this week from D.L. Moody to write a "Resolution of Thanksgiving." I didn't quite understand what he meant by this "resolution," but after Randy read his own resolution, the concept became clear. Moody, in his own words, decided

We often set apart seasons and have meetings for prayer; I think it would be well for us to have special seasons also for thanksgiving, to praise God for what he is doing in our midst. Let those who have been redeemed from the hand of the enemy speak not of themselves, but of what God has done for them.

Randy challenged his family to each write their own Resolution of Thanksgiving, so I decided to put pen to paper (so to speak) and ponder my own gratitude to God. How often to I truly thank God for my blessings? How often does my own attitude alter depending on my circumstances? What's the frequency of my "I wish" thoughts? So, while contemplating these things, I developed my resolution of thanksgiving.

"I, Erika Mosteller, make this resolution of thanksgiving to meditate on the blessings of God.  

I recognize that my job or my husband's job may not always pay what I desire or think is fair, that it may not be the job I or my husband wish to have, that it may not allow me to do what I'm passionate about. The progression of my life may not move at the pace I desire, meaning I might not have children, a house, vacations, "nice" cars, or retirement when I plan to do so. I may not always have good health, nor may my family members. My future children may not make good decisions, nor might my husband and I. I may not be financially secure. I may lose friends. I may dislike my country's political climate and situation. I may have aches, pains, or injuries. I may gain weight. I may feel frustrated that I can't purchase what I want when I want to do so. I may dislike certain aspects of my church. I may never continue my education in an official capacity. I may no longer be able to travel widely. Ultimately, I may not live the life I expected or planned.  

But I hereby resolve to be thankful. I'm thankful for two families that love and support me. I'm thankful for a husband who loves me more and better than I could have imagined. I'm thankful that regardless of our employment situation in the last 4 1/2 years of marriage, God has provided for us financially, even when we only had $8 in our bank account at one point. I'm thankful that I have access to food, vitamins, water, sanitation, health-care, education, transportation, employment, banks, physical security, freedom of worship, and low-censored press. I'm thankful that my children will also have access to many of these things. Most of all, I'm thankful that I'm saved by Grace, that God is sovereign and present in my daily life, that God provides means of grace to give me strength, and that God loves me abundantly. I'm thankful that regardless of life's circumstances, I can relish in the promises of God's faithfulness to me, even when I fail to in fact be thankful."

Halloween and Human Rights

I read somewhere several years ago that much of the cocoa we eat in delicious chocolatey treats comes from forced labor. Of course, this information convicted me for the time it took me to read the article, and then I promptly forgot about it. Recently, however, I read a blog posting on Rage Against the Minivan that reminded me of the link between Hersheys, Nestle, Mars, American Cadbury and child slavery. In the post, Kristen Howerton linked a BBC documentary on the chocolate trade.

I suggest you watch all 5 segments, since they're only about 10 minutes each. I was so galled by this documentary that I did a little experiment with my Christian Thought class. I had already bought my Halloween candy for my students this year. After reading Howerton's blog posting and watching the documentary, I felt ridiculous for mentally whining about paying $12 for 3 bags of chocolate when in actuality, I paid LESS than I should have since the chocolate companies get free slave labor. Ouch. So I handed out the bags of M&Ms to my students, and after they bit into savoring the chocolatey goodness (at 8am...gross) I said, "Congratulations. You all just participated in the modern day slave trade." Their faces dropped in disbelief. We then watched the documentary, and they, like me, were disgusted by the corporate and human greed that leads to child slave labor. 


There are more slaves today than at any other point in history. The current estimate for modern-day slaves stands somewhere between 12 million to 27 million. The most prominent forms of slave labor are forms of bonded labor, where someone pledges themselves against a loan that "miraculously" never gets paid off, and slaves trafficked for the sex trade.  While slaves are today a lower percentage of the human population than during the 19th century, before Western countries abolished the slave trade and chattel slavery (picture cotton plantations in Georgia),  modern slaves are ridiculously cheap, therefore fueling the illicit trade. You see, slavery is illegal in all countries, with Mauritania being the last to officially outlaw slavery in 1981. However, the high levels of government corruption in many poor countries allows the slave trade and the use of slave labor to persist and often thrive. To read more on the human sex slave trade, read Half the Sky, one of my favorite books. 


Kevin Bales, President of Free the Slaves, states the following about how "market economics" continue the tide of forced labor:

"In the United States before the Civil War, the average slave cost the equivalent of about fifty thousand dollars. I'm not sure what the average price of a slave is today, but it can't be more than fifty or sixty dollars.

Such low prices influence how the slaves are treated. Slave owners used to maintain long relationships with their slaves, but slaveholders no longer have any reason to do so. If you pay just a hundred dollars for someone, that person is disposable, as far as you are concerned...

And while the price of slaves has gone down, the return on the slaveholder's investment has skyrocketed. In the antebellum South, slaves brought an average return of about 5 percent. Now bonded agricultural laborers in India generate more than a 50 percent profit per year for their slaveholders, and a return of 800 percent is not at all uncommon for holders of sex slaves."

So where do we as consumers fit into this? We have the power of the purse. If we curb our demand of Hersheys, or Mars, or Kraft chocolates, and demand these companies pursue cocoa sources from fair labor only, and that the US government regulate these companies to ensure they follow fair trade sourcing, we can impact the lives of children forced into slavery all the way in Ghana. Write your congressman, buy fair trade chocolate with the official seal (same goes for coffee, by the way), and do your part as a consumer. You can even join the #nohersheyshalloween movement and sign a petition to get Hersheys, the largest offender for child labor cocoa, to pay attention to its consumers or lose profit. To read about ethical candy options for trick or treating, click here. 


In the meantime, look for this symbol and buy fair trade. 
Is it more expensive? Yes. Personally, I'm OK paying a little bit more knowing that I'm not contributing to human rights violations around the world. Not to guilt you or anything...

I'm Racist

True confession. I don't want to be. I try so hard not to be. But I'm bombarded with racism in our society, and I find it creeping from my subconscious when I least expect it. Many people I know, especially many white people, get annoyed with me when I claim that most people are racist. "I'm not racist," they say. "I don't see color," others assure. I'm here to tell you that if you were raised in a western culture, and you are white, more than likely you're racist, even if you try so hard not to be. It's because in our culture, especially in the South, we find ourselves "surprised" if we meet a highly educated black person, or a wealthy African American who doesn't play sports or work in entertainment. Can you imagine being negatively pegged your entire life based on your phenotype? To be expected to never finish high school, let along college? To be expected to end up in prison, or living in the projects with illegitimate kids? To be poor your entire life? I can't, because I'm white. I have always been expected to go to college, get married, have children only after being married, have steady income and savings, parent my children responsibly, be cultured and well-traveled. These expectations were set in place from the time I was socialized, and, I would argue, heavily impacted my motivations, goals, and methods of "fitting the norm." So what does that say for the flip side of this picture, those who are expected to fail? How does that impact entire generations?

I know these are sensitive issues, and I think many white people don't want to face them because they think "slavery ended after the civil war. It's been over a century. Get over it." But our culture still grants primacy to those with "white" skin. Maybe, as a white person, I'm not supposed to talk about this? But I read a blog posting by a black professor tonight, and it convicted me so deeply. I started thinking through how many times I hear people say with such surprise, "oh, you study slavery and the history of racism?" Or "your summer reading for your US history kids was on black men in Reconstruction? Your black students will really appreciate that." I literally want to ask, "And why wouldn't my non-black students appreciate it too?" I get nauseaus when I hear people say of slavery in the south , "But the slaves liked being taken care of. They didn't want freedom." Or when people claim that "affirmative action" is racist against whites. Skin color is SO powerful, but we think that racism is no longer a game-changer in our society. I ask you, then, have you read the new laws against immigration in Arizona? Alabama? Georgia? If those aren't about racism, I don't know what is. Hispanics aren't "white" and therefore aren't acceptable. Spew at me all you want about them "not paying taxes" and "being here illegally," but I will shoot right back that the answer is not racially profiling them and intimidating them into pulling their children out of school and fearing going to the grocery store for being arrested. The answer is finding a peaceable, respectable way to naturalize them. 


Here's the excerpt from that blog, the words that got my whole rant started. Click here to read the whole posting. It's pretty powerful, for me at least. 

"...I don’t want to talk about race because it gives weight to a fiction that was created to oppress. It has no basis in biology and is a social construction in this country that was engineered to maintain access to free labor. The fiction created by race distorts the reality in which we live.

Plus, as a black person, I am called on often to speak for my “race.” I can never give an opinion without it being assumed to be that of a multitude. So when a white person asks me my opinion about an issue that can be related to race, I suspect that there is going to be a moment later when that white person is going to say, “Well, I have a black friend, Steve, who says…” And that will be the black authority on the subject.

Black people can’t talk to white people about race anymore. There’s really nothing left to say. There are libraries full of books, interviews, essays, lectures, and symposia. If people want to learn about their own country and its history, it is not incumbent on black people to talk to them about it. It is not our responsibility to educate them about it. Plus whenever white people want to talk about race, they never want to talk about themselves. There needs to be discussion among people who think of themselves as white. They need to unpack that language, that history, that social position and see what it really offers them, and what it takes away from them. As James Baldwin said, “As long as you think that you are white, there is no hope for you.”

When you went to Africa, you said “you were the minority for the first time in your life.” That’s not true. You have been the only adult in a room full of children, the only man in a room full of women, the only non-incarcerated person in a jail. In America if you were a minority at a hip-hop concert in Compton, you would still have the privilege that accrues unbidden to persons designated as white, with all of the political, social, and economic access that comes with it."

Something to thing about. I know I will.  To read more on racism in our society, read here a former post I wrote on racism.

Youthful conviction

If you read my blog, you probably realize that the idea of social justice is something I've been wrestling through. It's taken me years to even begin to reach the point of having my heart broken for the things that break God's heart. I used to be the one who wanted to help those less fortunate than me to make myself feel good, to "be a good Christian," and, probably on some level, to show my superiority. I honestly believed that I wasn't in "their" (meaning the poor) shoes because I worked hard. I had a job because I pursued it relentlessly. I wasn't in debt because I made good choices. I received an excellent college education because my studiousness allowed me to do so. Only recently have I realized that all of my opportunities came from my socioeconomic position. I am white, born to parents who taught me to value education, who sacrificed to allow me to thrive, who were able to move so that I could attend excellent public schools. While I wouldn't say that until recently I was apathetic to the poor and suffering, I will say that my heart was not broken for them as the Lord's is. 


At Furman, as I learned more of the human consequences of sin, I recognized the complexity of poverty and oppression. When I began to teach high school in Macon, I showed my FPD students the documentary Invisible Children. As someone who prizes education and despises ignorance, I wanted to enlighten my students to the world outside of their bubble. But it was their hearts that moved to ACT after hearing about the plight of child soldiers in Uganda by raising money to help fund schools. Now, with the students in my Christian Thought class, we've been talking through James 1:22-27:

"²²But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. ²³For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. ²⁴For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. ²⁵But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing. 

²⁶If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless. ²⁷Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world."

This idea of "being doers of the word" has been plaguing me. My heart is broken for the orphans, for mothers who can't feed their children, for the victims of human trafficking, for women denied education, for mothers dying in childbirth, for babies who contract HIV, for aging grandparents trying to provide for their grandchildren after AIDS ravaged their family, for countries still reeling from ethnic genocides, for gender-based abortions, for communities who have no clean water, for honor killings, for the fistula crisis in Africa, for Haitian children who still can't find their parents, and on and on and on. Sin has very real, painful, dire consequences. But what can I do about it?

As I read through my students' recently assigned papers answering the question of God's vision of social justice and how American Christians respond, I was humbled and inspired. Their youthful conviction struck me. One student wrote, "We as Americans are sheltered, spoiled, and most of the time blissfully unaware of the tragedies of everyday life in other countries...But when we show justice and God's love to people, we are following after God's own heart, because he cares about them deeply." Another student beautifully summarized, "Human nature keeps track of social justice by hours and calls it community service, but God's vision of social justice is constantly measured in the heart and demonstrated through words and actions." This student then continued, "Americans are narcissistic. Sinful nature causes us to focus on ourselves and forget those suffering around us, but Jesus begs us to travel through the narrow gate and go beyond the simple desires of our flesh."  (Can you tell I have a future writer on my hands!?) Another student wrote about God's association of himself as "defender of the poor" in Isaiah, determining that "God needs us to be earthly defenders, going out of our way to show people the love and mercy" that Christ showed us on the cross. She continued that "Christians have turned their faith into a habit, instead of creating a personal relationship with God. Since they have no relationship with the Lord, they cannot successfully make just relationships with society."

Most students decided that we as Christians fail to act on God's design for justice. Tim Keller argues for biblical justice based on the Hebrew term, mishpat, which means to treat people equitably and render what they are due, whether punishment, protection or care. However, Keller emphasizes that mishpat must work in tandem with chesedh,  the Hebrew term for "mercy." My students beautifully expressed their belief that God's vision of justice necessitates "doing justice out of merciful love," a mandate perfectly enacted through Christ's death for us on the cross. Jesus died to take our punishment, but he did so out of merciful love to protect us from eternal separation from God. How then could our hearts not transform and extend this same mercy to others? One student aptly concluded her paper with Psalm 33:5: 

^"5He loves righteousness and justice;    the earth is full of the steadfast love of the LORD."

I pray that I would help show God's steadfast love, righteousness and justice. And I'm thankful that my students' convictions helped remind me to act on these commands. As a teacher, I continually strive (obviously) to instruct my students; but in the meantime, my students end up teaching me so much along the way. 

Where were you?

Today in class, I asked my students if they remembered September 11, 2001. All of them were either in 1st or 2nd grade, and many of them remembered parents and teachers crying and being glued to the TV. One of my students said his mom told him the people jumping out of the towers were landing on trampolines, I guess in an attempt to shield his innocent heart from pain. I told them how I was a junior in high school, their own age now, and saw the plane sticking out of the tower on a TV in my school's library. It seemed like a bad movie. For the rest of the day, we watched the horror unfold, people leaping from the towers, the towers ultimately falling, hearing about the pentagon. My dad rushed out that afternoon to buy an American flag, embarrassed that we didn't own one to fly in remembrance.

As I spoke with my students today, it dawned on me that in the past ten years, I rarely, if ever, recall September 11. I don't pray for the families who lost so much, or who still suffer with sick family members who fell ill from inhaling the dust and debris during rescue attempts. I don't pray for mothers and fathers who lost all their children that day, or for wives and husbands who lost their spouses. I forget that many children are growing up one parent short because of that fateful day and the aftermath that followed. One of my students thanked me after class for letting them talk about their memories and honor those lost in the towers. Another of my students teared up and grabbed a friend's hand while listening to a little boy's oral history about losing his "Pop-pop" and wishing he could tell his grandad how much he loved him. On a Friday, a day the students are normally so antsy, chatty, and ready for the weekend, my students sat in silence and listened to these oral histories, these voices releasing their pain and asking others to remember their loved ones. The sorrow of this tragedy weighed on my students, as it did me.

The truth is, I wouldn't have thought to do anything if a parent hadn't emailed me a reminder to honor the memory of 9/11 victims. How soon we forget. I can only imagine the worst part of losing someone in a tragedy is that you feel like the world forgets about that person who was so dear to you and who was snatched away so abruptly.

NPR is gathering oral histories of victims' families and friends to help honor those lost in 9/11. Click here to listen to some of their stories and to remember and honor those who lost their lives.Scroll down to the bottom of that article to see many stories from those remembering 9/11. Click here to see NPR's special series reflecting on 9/11.

A Third-World Wallet

Recently I posted on freedom and our American mind-set that being free in life means being financially stable enough to purchase whatever stuff, experience, etc that we want. Today I read a great post from a missionary in Peru about spending money. Her third-world wallet has allowed her to see the flaws in our American mindset, and I thought what she said was much more eloquent than my posting. So, here are some excerpts, but click here to read the whole thing. 

"One last thing that becomes glaringly obvious when living in a developing country is how insulated from poverty we have built the US to be. Except for a few rare places, we have created a country where the haves and the have nots do not interact. We live in different communities, go to different schools, hang out at different places, and most disheartening to me, go to different churches. We, as the haves, have made sure that we do not cross paths with the have nots and have to face what living in poverty is like. And here's what I know to be truth because I have seen it happen again and again: when you enter the lives of people living in poverty, you are changed and therefore, how you spend your money is changed. 

Watch this video about the famine in East Africa. If you are purposely avoiding news of the famine, I dare you to enter this world for just a few minutes and watch this video. Will it make you think twice about how much you need to spend on your own food tonight? I believe it will and I believe that is why we avoid the poor. It is easier to be ignorant, but if you were that parent walking miles and miles just for clean water and food for your child, would you hope for more from your fellow human beings? Can we keep turning our backs on those in desperate need because we feel entitled to certain things and it just feels too hard to give them up? When it is someone you care about starving, you will move heaven and earth to help them. So, we have made sure that we don't know those who are starving. We don't want it to be our problem and we don't want to be inconvenienced. I know that sounds harsh, but it is true."

I hope you'll watch the video. If you're looking for somewhere trustworthy to donate money to alleviate the Horn of Africa's famine, check out World Vision.  Through government grants and their reputation for bringing highly organized, efficient help, World Vision is able to take our donations and multiply them greatly. In fact, World Vision is the largest US-based international humanitarian organization, according to a recent New York Times article.  


Moral of the story? Don't feel guilty for being blessed. Take advantage of it to help others. 

  

Take advantage of our "democracy"

OK, so I can't honestly say that we live in a democracy, but that's a debate for another day. We can still at least petition our congressmen and women in the hopes that they will listen. So let's take action!


There are over 27 million slaves worldwide, the most ever in world history. The International Justice Mission is sponsoring a letter campaign to pressure congress to pass the Trafficking Victims Reauthorization Act (TVPRA) that was initially passed in 2000 and has put some pressure on America and third world countries to enforce anti-traficking laws. So, tell Congress we want it passed again! Click here to write your email to your senator. It only takes 1 minute, and, according to an awesome book I'm reading called Half the Sky, US government diplomatic pressure has proven the MOST EFFECTIVE MEANS of curbing sexual exploitation in places like America, India, Cambodia, Thailand, and China, to name a few. Let's use our super-power status for good for a change. And do what your kindergarten teacher told you makes America great: Write your senator!