Bucket-bath Justice
What if "Do Justice" meant something more than what we've made it out to be? I grew up in a Christian family where the value of Micah 6:8, "Do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God." infiltrated everything we did. But this summer I've been wrestling with what justice really is. Is it just caring about the less fortunate? Is it giving to foundations and organizations whose missions focus on bringing that justice to others around the world? Is it buying fair trade coffee? What is justice? I'm sure it includes all these things. But I'm also sure it has to be more than the socially cool care and concern we've made it out to be!
During my time in Haiti the issue of "justice" was brought into focus in a strange way for me. There is no running water, at least where we were in the country. Therefore, each day water had to be carried from the well about 1/3 mile down the road. We used this water for cooking, cleaning, and bathing (we purchased drinking water as the well water isn't potable).
I don't know if you've ever had to carry the water you would need for bathing. How much do you think you would need? A gallon? Five gallons? I will admit that I've had other experiences with bucket baths, etc. I'll also admit there's something romantic about bathing by bucket under the Haitian stars. Even though I'm sure the romanticism wears off after a few weeks, I'd still recommend keeping "bucket bath under the Haitian stars" on your bucket list. But I digress. Have you ever stopped to wonder whether lack of running water is an injustice or an inconvenience?
I think we can all agree that access to clean drinking and bathing water are necessary. But, is running water a right or a privilege? Where does that fit into my understanding of true justice? I don't have the answer and I'm still processing it for myself. But I did decide that my understanding of justice might need to be expanded.
What if true justice means knowing the names of the homeless and understanding their struggles--not from afar but from the dirty streets where they live? What if loving my neighbor means more than buying an extra turkey to donate during Thanksgiving? Maybe it really means inviting them over to share our entire Thanksgiving meal with us. We might have to adjust our family traditions. But they might tell their stories... they might become my friends. What if doing justice means more than righting the wrongs of injustice--which it certainly includes! What if it means building relationships with the victims of injustice in such a powerful, binding way that the injustices hurt me, too? Somehow I think that's what Jesus and Micah were getting at.
Something beautiful happened when I was carrying my bath water through the Haitian countryside--I was carrying it alongside Evlyn, Job, and their two sons. I became bound to them in a powerful way that affected my understanding of justice. I know the names of individuals suffering the effects. I experienced their lifestyle.
My understanding of doing justice with my life has changed--I want to do more than purchase fair-trade coffee and give money from a safe distance. I want to be bound to those suffering the effects of injustice in a powerful way... but I'm scared. The selfish part of me would much rather continue to care from a comfortable distance where I don't have to carry my own bath water or make any personal changes. It's not easy and I wish I could go back to the way things were before Haiti... back when "doing justice" meant caring from a safe, convenient distance. But I can't and the rest of me doesn't want to. It's going to be a lifetime transformation--but I guess that's what Jesus meant when He asked me to follow Him. It's a journey.
During my time in Haiti the issue of "justice" was brought into focus in a strange way for me. There is no running water, at least where we were in the country. Therefore, each day water had to be carried from the well about 1/3 mile down the road. We used this water for cooking, cleaning, and bathing (we purchased drinking water as the well water isn't potable).
I don't know if you've ever had to carry the water you would need for bathing. How much do you think you would need? A gallon? Five gallons? I will admit that I've had other experiences with bucket baths, etc. I'll also admit there's something romantic about bathing by bucket under the Haitian stars. Even though I'm sure the romanticism wears off after a few weeks, I'd still recommend keeping "bucket bath under the Haitian stars" on your bucket list. But I digress. Have you ever stopped to wonder whether lack of running water is an injustice or an inconvenience?
I think we can all agree that access to clean drinking and bathing water are necessary. But, is running water a right or a privilege? Where does that fit into my understanding of true justice? I don't have the answer and I'm still processing it for myself. But I did decide that my understanding of justice might need to be expanded.
What if true justice means knowing the names of the homeless and understanding their struggles--not from afar but from the dirty streets where they live? What if loving my neighbor means more than buying an extra turkey to donate during Thanksgiving? Maybe it really means inviting them over to share our entire Thanksgiving meal with us. We might have to adjust our family traditions. But they might tell their stories... they might become my friends. What if doing justice means more than righting the wrongs of injustice--which it certainly includes! What if it means building relationships with the victims of injustice in such a powerful, binding way that the injustices hurt me, too? Somehow I think that's what Jesus and Micah were getting at.
Something beautiful happened when I was carrying my bath water through the Haitian countryside--I was carrying it alongside Evlyn, Job, and their two sons. I became bound to them in a powerful way that affected my understanding of justice. I know the names of individuals suffering the effects. I experienced their lifestyle.
My understanding of doing justice with my life has changed--I want to do more than purchase fair-trade coffee and give money from a safe distance. I want to be bound to those suffering the effects of injustice in a powerful way... but I'm scared. The selfish part of me would much rather continue to care from a comfortable distance where I don't have to carry my own bath water or make any personal changes. It's not easy and I wish I could go back to the way things were before Haiti... back when "doing justice" meant caring from a safe, convenient distance. But I can't and the rest of me doesn't want to. It's going to be a lifetime transformation--but I guess that's what Jesus meant when He asked me to follow Him. It's a journey.
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| My host Haitian family and translator. |
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