Invited to be present as a small book club met to discuss “In Borrowed Houses,” I answered some question by explaining that in Lebanon all the big political leaders had their own militias. The group could easily see that this created a ready-made civil war situation, and this caused a few people to feel immediately judgmental of the Lebanese for tolerating such a system.
One man spoke up then to tell what had happened in his community. A meeting was called, its announced purpose being to talk about how individual home owners could cooperate to make the neighborhood a comfortable and secure place to live. The setting was in the California foothills, a rural and forested area. The man went to the meeting, expecting to talk about issues like easements and fire escape routes, only to discover that the intent had been to organize a militia. The expressed reason for this was that they were expecting a big crisis. Cyber terrorists would wipe out the communication system and all our systems would start falling apart. In the big cities, stores would not receive shipments and the population would not be able to get food. “They will be coming up here to steal ours.” After all, the foothills are the source of several major crops: grapes, apples, sheep.
This story shocked me at first, but almost immediately I remembered Adam Erickson’s blog: “Five Ways to Be a Peacemaker in 2015” on RavenFoundation.org. When I read it, I had a hard time getting past Adam’s first point: “Acknowledging Our Own Violence.”
Our own tendency to violence??? Like the impulse to form a militia?
Let’s step ‘way back here and think. What did Jesus say we should do about people who have no food?
There is a story in the New Testament about a crowd of 5000 hungry people. This story made it into all four of the gospels. Jesus sees the problem, and his disciples are concerned but have no solution. And in all four versions of the story Jesus tells the disciples in one way or another to do what they could about the problem. In the end all that crowd ate and baskets of leftovers were picked up. This was not done without the amazing power of Jesus; nor was it done without the effort of his disciples.
Apparently a lot of Americans are unwilling or afraid to try Jesus’ way. We would rather organize against a threat, form militias, arm ourselves, and shoot if necessary to protect our food. Living in Lebanon I learned that civil wars are made out of this kind of attitude.
But recently, there was a genuine crisis here. It did not involve city people. No one threatened to come up from the valley to steal our food. The crisis was a forest fire raging a few miles away, a little deeper into the hills. In fact the blaze traveled 50 miles overnight and was coming in our direction. The fire department said, “Get ready,” so the people of this community packed suitcases and waited. Even while we packed, breathing heavy smoke, refugees began to arrive from areas already under evacuation orders. This was a stopping place, safer than the one they came from. People arrived in mobile homes looking for space to park them. People without money for motel rooms needed places to sleep. Some were bringing animals, as small as cats, as big as horses. A lot of people needed a shower, food, emotional support. I knew a woman who left her house in the morning, drove to her job in the city, and found the road blocked by the fire department when she tried to go home. She didn’t have even a toothbrush.
So what happened? Nothing much, just a normal, humane, neighborly thing. Our church welcomed mobile homes into our parking lot. This one and others opened food stores for people in need. Families and individuals opened the doors of their homes. They took in the temporarily homeless, gave them beds, shared food, even cooked for them. They welcomed the visitors to use the water, the electricity, the phone. A friend of mine who does not have unlimited long distance in her telephone package let a refugee from the fire run his business from her house and then paid the bill. She considered it “the cost of radical hospitality,” which is part of our church’s interpretation of discipleship.
A lot of praying happened, too. With brave firefighters standing between us and the flames, creating barriers as fast as they could, the wind reversed and stopped the fire in its tracks. Even then the evacuees could not go home. People who meant to be overnight guests had to stay a week or more, making time for friendships to form, relationships to solidify, good will to grow, and gratitude to build.
It all happened without drama. No guns were drawn; no shots fired; no theft occurred. Jesus’ way worked.
Peace prevailed.