REFLECTION FOR MARCH 2015

REFLECTION FOR MARCH 2015   PETER MILLAR

petermillarreflects.blogspot.co.uk

 

Close to the Jaffa Gate in Jerusalem stands the Tower of David. It dates from before the time of Christ and is now a famous museum, full of precious archaeological finds. Also known as the Jerusalem Citadel it was enlarged in the 5^th century and because the Byzantine Christians thought it was the palace of King David they named it “the Tower of David” – borrowing the name from words in the Song of Songs reputedly written by David’s son Solomon. “Thy neck is like the Tower of David built with turrets upon which hang a thousand shields, all the armour of mighty warriors.” Today the tower looks out over divided Jerusalem, perhaps, in quiet moments, reflecting on its own often turbulent history.

In Jerusalem over the years, millions of visitors have gone to the Tower of David. Hardly any have visited another Tower of David which I have been reading about recently. This second tower, known to locals by the same name as the one in Jerusalem, stands in the teeming heart of Caracas, the largest city in Venezuela, a country with one of the world’s lowest minimum wage rates and with high unemployment. As in many countries and despite attempts by successive left-wing  governments to bring greater equality, Venezuela  remains divided between those who have much and those who have nothing. Although it is true that there is a growing middle-class, the Caracas Tower of David, built in 1990, mirrors the huge divisions, not just within that country but within the present global economic order. It is 52 storeys high and was intended to house luxury apartments but the developer went bankrupt. In recent years this unfinished structure, which is in many respects very unsafe has been home to 750 local families who are squatting there indefinitely. 

The Dutch photographer Iwan Baan who has visited the tower writes: “About 3,000 people live in the tower. There is such an immense need for housing in Caracas that any vacant place is squatted. The political system is so dysfunctional people have to find their own way of dealing with things. Almost 70% of the city’s population live in self-built structures, slums and barrios. At first, the tower was just a construction site: no elevators, running water or electricity. But over the years more and more families have moved in, and nowadays it’s more like a village – a self-sustaining community in the sky. It has its own economy – every floor has a shop, there are hairdressers and a gym. Connected to the tower is a car park, also unfinished. Because there are no elevators, people set up taxi services in the car park, which ferry people and goods up and down the ramps between the floors The ingenuity is incredible. These people have absolutely nothing, but they have ways to get by. They are so proud of what they’ve achieved – they built everything in there by hand.”

Dr Martin Luther King wrote: “the moral arc of the universe is long but is tilted towards justice.” Many believe that, even if we often see signs to the contrary. Several of the Biblical passages used by the churches around the world during Lent remind us of that tilt towards justice: of God’s preferential option for the poor, for families like those in that great unfinished tower in Caracas. In recent weeks I have had the opportunity to be at worship services in various churches here in Scotland. Some have quite large congregations, others only a handful of people. Some are concerned only about their own welfare while others seek to reach out not just to the local community, but to those much further afield. Yet (and here I include myself) are we honestly in our prayers and worship able to comprehend in a meaningful way what it is to have nothing? We all know that actually feeling what the poor experience is almost impossible; a truth which came home to me every day when our home was in South India. Not only are we “comfortable” but even the most compassionate and insightful hearts can be unknowingly patronising to those who have nothing. I know this is a complicated issue which has led to endless discussion within many aid agencies as they seek to walk alongside marginalised people in places of great poverty.  

As we think of our sisters and brothers going up and down these ramps inside that 52- storey unsafe Tower of David in Venezuela, can we also think of God thinking about them? That may sound strange, but on the Cross as he was dying Christ was concerned about the two criminals who hung on either side of him. Not just about his own death but also about their well-being and future. “Today you will be with me in Paradise,” he told one of them – in other words, today you will be held in the loving hands of your Creator. Our Christian faith is never something just individual. It is not just about how I feel with God. It’s much more about how God feels about us all, and although some would disagree, I often feel he is much closer to the folk in that tower in Caracas than to me. The tilt to divine justice is still very much in play in our world. That being so, I hope I sometimes feel uncomfortable as I understand more about how my way of living is directly, not indirectly, connected  to the poverty of millions of others, even if many see no such connection. 

Lent is a time given to us by God to think hard and long about all these inter-connections. To allow ourselves to experience the pain others feel. To know that their sorrow is also our sorrow.  To recognise that the Christian faith is never static but can take us to difficult places in which we are neither secure nor comfortable. Our global technology is propelling us to understand more intelligently God’s world of which we are a tiny, yet meaningful part. At its best, technology is bringing us close to the truth of our common heart-beat; to the knowledge that the Tower of David in Caracas is part and parcel of our own short journey in this life. That is a living truth which both discomforts and encourages us. The late, and great, Bishop Helder Camara of Recife in North East Brazil was able to express it succinctly. “Lord, don’t give us an easy peace in our hearts but press us uncomfortably till we find that other peace which is truly Your peace.”  In the book “HOLY GROUND: liturgies and worship for an engaged spirituality” by Neil Paynter and Helen Boothroyd there are these lines from a litany – “ When politics and policies are biased to the poor, then shall the light shine forth like the dawn. When none go hungry and good food is for all, then shall the light shine forth like the dawn.”  Let us all say ‘Amen’ to that as we move through these weeks of Lent.