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May 2, 2010
Ezekiel 34: 11-16a The Spirit of Bartimaeus in Haiti Walking among the collapsed buildings, the rubble, broken bodies and broken dreams, nobody seemed to notice Jesus and his disciples. Port-au-Prince had suffered a terrible earthquake, hundreds of thousands were injured, 230,000 people were dead, and 1.3 million were homeless. The government buildings were collapsed and the city was in a state of chaos. Jean Louis Delouis, son of Jacques, was sitting on the road near his collapsed house. He had lost everything – his wife, JoAnne and his three children, Fey Fey, Manatee, and Thelma, their house and all his belongings lie in ruin. All he had was the dirty ragged clothes on his dusty thin body. He was thirsty and hungry but there seemed to be no help in his neighborhood. He sat there, because he didn’t know what else to do. He had heard a rumor that Jesus was in the city, but he thought it must be nonsense. Why would Jesus every visit a hell hole like this? He heard a commotion down the street, and he thought he heard someone mention the name of Jesus. He looked up. Jean Louis knew it was him, even though he looked like a typical Haitian man. With all the strength that he could muster, he began to shout out and say, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Many around sternly ordered him to stop, to sit down and be quiet. They rebuked him, “What are you crazy! There is nothing that can be done in this wretched city. Give it up, Jean Louis.” But Jean Louis cried out even more loudly, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stopped walking and stood still. He said to his disciples, “Call him here.” And they motioned to the battered and broken Jean Louis, saying “Take heart: get up, Jesus is calling you.” He slowly, timidly stood and walked over to where Jesus was standing. Then Jesus said to him, “What do you want me to do for you?” Jean Louis, battered and broken, said to him, “My teacher, my Savior, I have lost everything including my family, give me the hope to continue to live, give me the faith to dream once again.” Jesus said to him, “Go Jean Louis; your faith has made you well.” Jean Louis went back to his collapsed house and began to sort through the rubble. I have always loved the story of Bartimaeus in the Gospel of Mark. A blind beggar in Jericho, who through his unflinching hope and his faith in Jesus was cured of his blindness. Retelling the story in the setting of Port-au- Prince is very helpful for me. Because I need that constant reminder that God is with the Haitian people; that Jesus is walking the streets of Port-au-Prince; that the Haitians are not abandoned, forgotten people; that the world community does care and will continue to help them rebuild their country; that the government will re-establish itself with mutual cooperation from the world community; that God is working through human hands. Through television reporting, we witnessed the presence of Jesus through the accounts of some of the victims. I remember an elderly woman was pulled out of the rubble after one week, as she emerged from the tiny crevice that had entombed her body, she broke forth into hymn singing praising God for her release. When a reporter asked her what it was like being alone in such a space for a week without food or water, she replied, “I wasn’t alone, Jesus was with me the whole time.” Tomorrow morning Ted and I will depart for Haiti for ten days. For those of you who may be new to the congregation or visiting today, my husband, Ted, and I six years ago founded a scholarship granting organization that provides full scholarships to Haitian students at the high school and university level. The high school program is centered in the Artibonite Valley, about 50 miles due north of Port-au-Prince, in Haiti’s agricultural region. The university program is located in Port-au-Prince. We have 116 high school students, 6 technical or trade school students, and 24 university students. Through our church’s mission budget and through a gift from L.B.S., this church sponsors 24 high school students, and many of you sponsor students on your own. We are so very appreciative of this loving support. We have not returned since the earthquake, but we have been in constant daily communications with our employees in our office in Deschapelles and with our administrators in Port-au-Prince. Our high school program is functioning almost normally, with the exception that there is extreme over-crowding due to the influx of hundreds of thousands of refugees from Port-au-Prince flooding this valley. With this shortage of schools and overcrowding, we have had to provide much more tutoring help than we had budgeted to try to help our students learn under these conditions. Our university program is more problematic. Our 24 students went to 8 of the 15 universities in Port-au-Prince. 11 of those 15 universities collapsed, crippling our program. Out of the 24 university students, 6 have returned to school, yet a couple of them are living in tent cities. We are trying to assist them in finding another place to live. For the remainder of the university students, we are exploring the possibility of transferring them to the state university in the Dominican Republic, so that they can finish their bachelor degrees on a timely basis. For this year’s graduating high school class, we may have to put on hold their dream to go on to the university. We will spend a week in the country in Deschapelles where our office is located, and three days in Port-au-Prince, surveying the damage to the universities and talking with officials about their plans for re-opening. Let us go back to the story of Bartimaeus and see how the spirit of Bartimaeus, the spirit of faith and hope, the courage to live again, is alive and well in Haiti. The narrative relates that when Bartimaeus shouted out that many sternly warned him to be quiet. Probably they were saying to Bartimaeus, “Jesus doesn’t have time for the likes of you. Look at you! -- dirty, homeless, blind, you are a nuisance to the public with your chronic begging. Go away, leave Jesus alone. He has important work to do.” Yet Bartimaeus didn’t stop, he called out even louder. Contrary to public opinion, contrary to how we might envision encounters with the holy, Jesus called Bartimaeus to him and healed him. Reminding us again and again, that God breaks into our lives in mysterious, unpredictable ways. We have to always be open for God’s word, always open to a revelation, a ray of hope, a surprising turn of events. It is not up to us to say that there is no hope, even if that seems like the logical outcome. God is the God of hope, and that is why the nature of hope is so profound, so unfathomable at times, because where God is, there too is hope. Working in Haiti over the past 11 years, I have witnessed first-hand the resiliency of the Haitian people and their strong faith, which baffles all reason. It is easy to be like one of the bystanders in the story of Bartimaeus, thinking to yourself why do they bother to call out to Jesus? Look at their lives? Look at their situation? How can they possibly have any hope? I have seen how hard the Haitian people work to simply stay alive, let alone dream of the future -- small children carrying water up the mountainside in buckets that would be hard for any adult to lift; the elderly walking for miles to the market in 100 degree heat balancing on their head a heavy basket of produce to sell or barter; a caravan of runners coming down from the mountain carrying a dying woman on a makeshift stretcher bringing her to the hospital, knowing that they have been running most of the night; the incessant desire of the parents to provide for their children and to do all that they can to get them in school, even if it means not eating. The people in most communities have no running water, no toilets, no electricity, shacks for houses, rats, no cars, no bicycles, yet they have a smile on their face when they see you, and a warm greeting. How on earth does it make any sense? I thought I had seen it all. But then the earthquake struck, and I began to see the images coming out of Port-au-Prince. Having been in Port-au-Prince months before the earthquake, I recognized much of the scenes and knew this was a catastrophe on par with none other in recent history. Ted and I were in Tucson, Arizona when we heard the news. We immediately started calling, emailing, texting our connections in Port-au-Prince – but were heard nothing. We feared for the worse. Days later, text messages started to come in….. “I am alive. Praise God” Bit by bit, message by message we checked off our list of students, board members, and friends in Port au Prince – all except one, Antonio, never checked in. Each message ended with a praise to God. I did not hear one of our friends be angry with God or blame God for the endless stream of natural disasters that hit Haiti year after year. There is only praise for God and the belief that Jesus walks with them every day. Weeks after the earthquake, with the reality sinking in of the devastation and loss and the enormity of the problems in Haiti, emails began to get very somber. Students wrote that they felt so sad, like they never have in their whole life. They didn’t know what to do. Life in Haiti was just too hard, too hopeless. “My head is not good,” Helene writes, “my spirit is so low.” Yet in the midst of this period of hopelessness, the spirit of Bartimaeus slowly returned. For our students, the spirit of Bartimaeus lives in Fednor Sidort, one of our university students. Fednor is in his third year studying management at the Universite Autonome de Port-au- Prince, now in a state of ruin. Fednor is tall and unassuming. He always has a half smile on his face and eyes that portray a wisdom much older than his years. He has been in our program for five years, and his presence is a delight for us. He gives me hope for Haiti’s future. He and several siblings live with their very elderly father in extremely poor circumstances. Fednor’s mother died several years ago, and he takes care of his father when he can. Last year, recognizing how difficult living in Port-au-Prince was for our university students from the country, Fednor organized a ‘Crosby university club’ and he was named President. He organized student gatherings, and our students met on a regular basis and checked in with one another, building fellowship, praying together and supporting each other’s needs. If one student has no food, they all try to help. When one is sick they keep watch. We are so proud of his initiative to bring the students together, because in unity they are so much stronger than they are alone. About a month after the earthquake, when the despair was palpable in the voices of the students’ emails, Fednor wrote to me that he had gathered the students in Deschapelles. He said it was time to start talking about their horrendous experience living through the earthquake. The students, some recovering from head wounds and some on crutches, gathered together to begin to share their stories, their losses, and their fears. They needed to acknowledge the empty chair, that one of them, Antonio, had once filled. Antonio had stayed after his class to work on a project. He was in the university when the earthquake struck and the building collapsed. Much to all of our despair, his body has never been recovered. Fednor shared with me that the meeting was very good, and that they would continue to meet on a regular basis. The students decided to expand the leadership of the club, Helene, a medical student, is now the Vice- President, and Mesidor Mendel, an environmental studies student, is the secretary. So at a time of collapse and despair, a ray of hope emerges. The students once again begin to dream of their future, expand their club, and work together to solve problems. They are anxiously awaiting our return to share with us their ideas for our program. Together with this group, we are planning a memorial service for Antonio, and naturally, it is Fednor Sidort who is making all the arrangements. God Bless Fednor Sidort. Another Bartimaeus figure is Helene Clervious. Helene has been in our program for six years. She is now a fifth year medical student at Quisqueya University, also collapsed. Right after the earthquake, Helene stayed in Port-au-Prince to help out at a make-shift hospital. She is now volunteering at the Hospital Albert Schweitzer in Deschapelles. Helene wrote to me several weeks ago about her idea to offer a seminar for the Haitian people on basic first aid training. She said that after witnessing the devastation of the earthquake, and working with so many injured people, that she feels that everyone could benefit from this seminar, and learn how to help themselves and their loved ones in a time of emergency. She is also volunteering to tutor our high school students in biology. Helene’s spirit of giving, strong faith, and hope to fulfill her dream of becoming a doctor has returned, and this fills my heart with joy. Verna Cledomen is a sixth year student who is studying physical therapy, a new career in Haiti. He wrote to me after the earthquake saying that he is so happy that he is in this field because he knows that he can help so many of his people. He said this is what I can do for my country to help it heal from the earthquake. With young people like Fednor, Helene and Verna I have hope for the future of Haiti. Hope that their educated young people will help bring forth a new time in Haiti’s bleak history. We see the spirit of Bartimaeus a lot in our life in this church. I think of Winona Kasto, our friend from the Green Grass Community on the Cheyenne River Indian Reservation in South Dakota, and how she always exemplifies that spirit of hope and good will; and Dunia and Hudah from the community of Beit Sahour in Palestine, and their courage to stand before us and speak the truth in their hearts and dream of a day that Palestine will be free from the occupation. I think of Mxolisi Duda, who came here in 2002 with the South African Choir. His voice was simply incredible. We learned he was too poor to ever go to college and study music. Through a scholarship from members of this church, Mxolosi, entered Hartt School of Music in 2003 and graduated at the top of his class in 2008. He went on to the New England Conservatory and will graduate with a Masters Degree this year. Yet it is Mxolisi’s spirit of life and love that is as beautiful as his tenor voice. That spirit of faith and perseverance in times of trial, the courage to confront life with hope is the spirit of Bartimaeus, and it is alive and well today. This morning we are blessed with The Children’s Storefront School Gospel Choir, and we hear the pure joy in their music. The School is located in the heart of Harlem, and we know that at times life cannot be easy for these children and their families. Several of us visited the Storefront School a few weeks ago. We heard from the graduating eighth grade class about their dreams for the future, and where they are studying next year. The school lifts my spirit, because there is such a positive energy of hope -- there is no such thing as “I can’t” or “that is impossible.” We heard that energy in the Choirs’ voices today -- that spirit of hope. Bartimaeus was told to stop calling Jesus, to be quiet, to give up, and he said ‘no,’ and called louder. He dared to dream of a life of possibilities, he dared to hope. Hope is not of this world, it is a gift of God that sparks the human spirit to be more than it could be otherwise. Hope participates in the divine and rests in the fact that in and through God all things are possible. How is it possible for the Haitian people to have hope? That can be answered quite simply. God is with them. Amen.
The Rev. Rebecca T. Crosby First Congregational Church of Old Lyme
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