Hey there friends,
I found this picture on the internet awhile back and something about it struck me. I printed it out and put it up next to my computer at work, along with pictures of friends back home, old students I had, and postcards from Chico and Paradise.
Lady Justice is an excellent symbol. There's a lot to say about her. This picture in particular is so grave, even a little spooky. The old Roman like font gives the pursuit of justice and right law a sense of timelessness. The circular frame and her sure pose underscores the law as the essence of stability in civic life. She's clearly strong, and powerful, wielding a double edged sword - for the law governs the poor and the wealthy alike. She's impartial, being blind and carrying even scales to show that she judges in fairness.
But there are some subtle things about this picture that I think are telling. She wears black robes, imparting to the viewer that the matters of law, of right and wrong, are serious indeed. Matters of life and death even. And that while injustice anywhere is a threat and tragedy, the writing suggests that there is something lost in the pursuit as well. The inscription has this sort of sad threatening caveat, that justice must always be sought, ceaselessly, tirelessly, at the expense of all else - until it is either attained like some mythical treasure at the end of the rainbow, or until liberty is killed on the altar. The archaic use of the word "end", here meaning the goal or objective of government, calls to mind the modern sense of the word, suggesting that government and civil society might simply cease. Perhaps most tellingly, justice is always portrayed as a young woman, symbolizing purity - but also fragility. And while she is impartial, you can't deny that she is in fact blind, and bears the consequences of that serious handicap.
Justice is fragile. Maybe that's obvious in life. "Nobody said the world was fair." But it seems like this is a lesson I've been learning in a new way.
The past few months have been more difficult to handle. The grime of the work has been getting under my skin here and there. I've heard some pretty gross stories and seen a few pretty vile things since I've been here. Stories of abuse and hopelessness. Girls being sent as a sort of sacrifice to the brothels on behalf of a whole village. Sisters pimping sisters. I work with a lot of social workers who see the long term trauma of the girls we work with, and if you are familiar with that kind of work in the states, I'm sure you know how tragic and grinding it can get. I've watched folks who had the power and the means to end injustice, abuse, and rape of young girls turn and walk away, for the sake of a few dollars or to save their own skin.
And that kind of stuff takes it's toll. I've seen myself get unreasonably angry and upset. Or withdrawn for no good reason. It seems that the lesson I learn most often here Is that I simply don't have the internal resources to be a patient, compassionate, loving person on my own. My deepest desire is to love those around me well, and yet I sometimes find myself feeling bitter, frustrated, and cold. Relying on my own willpower get's to be exhausting, and I really depend on the prayer of you guys at home and the love and of my friends and coworkers.
That being said, I've seen some incredible acts of grace and forgiveness here, and I am seeing God at work in this country and in myself. The phrase, "God's strength is made perfect in our weakness" has been on my mind all the time recently, and I've been trying to learn that mystery. I'm not sure what it means, or what to do about it. But it seems to be a key to getting by in this work. I think it has something to do with facing our failure and death before God and others with humility and honestly . By looking deeply at our weakness, holding it at arm’s length, knowing it, examining it in detail, raising it up for others to see, and finally, with mourning and a contrite heart, giving it to God. It’s not simple, or brief, but I am grateful for the people that God has given me here and those back home who love and support me.
I've seen some great things. Girls made to smile from a simple joke or dance in the midst of total depravity by a kind heart. Unbelievable changes as victims grow healthy and whole after years of enslavement. Law enforcement and IJM staff travelling incredible distances and working long hours for the sake of a girls life. I've seen a young girl who was sold for sex, comforting the weeping child of her captors.
This verse is from Isaiah 42:1-4. It's been helpful to remember that while I get tired, while we get discouraged, when we are battered around like bruised reeds, Christ won't falter until the end, until justice is obtained on the Earth.
“Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen one in whom I delight;
I will put my Spirit on him,
and he will bring justice to the nations.
2 He will not shout or cry out,
or raise his voice in the streets.
3 A bruised reed he will not break,
and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.
In faithfulness he will bring forth justice;
4 he will not falter or be discouraged
till he establishes justice on earth.
In his teaching the islands will put their hope.”
Thanks guys for reading and checking in. I've gotten some serious donations since I last wrote, and I thank you guys for that. I'm not sure if I'll be in the black or not yet, but I'm getting pretty close. Thanks for your love and prayers.
-Greg
