Privilege

In the midst of a country going through political unrest, many people have left. There are Nicaraguans getting their passports and visas ready. Many mission agencies have pulled their foreign missionaries from the country and retirees have returned to their native lands. There has been mass exodus at the airport for the past two months.

In the context of power and privilege, it seems grossly unfair that some people can leave when a country's situation goes bad and others can't. The exit of many foreigners has meant loss of jobs and income for many Nicaraguans. Those who can leave have options. The Nicaraguans and expats who flee the country have privilege. This is a major justice issue, to be sure. I have to confess my own privilege and exploitation of my power because of my skin color, money, and options. Life is easier for me and for my compatriots, and that's wrong.

But I think it's those who stay who are more privileged.

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:2-4

You wouldn't think that trials should be taken with joy. Endurance, yes. Patience, yes. Joy, not so much. And yet James tells us in this Biblical passage that trials produce steadfastness, and when we become fully steadfast, we will be perfect, whole. So we can be joyful in the midst of suffering because we know that it will have a good effect. Perhaps the thing we are going through doesn't make us giddy with delight, but we can be excited for the effect it will produce in us.

I think of water... steadfastness looks like a deep, still, refreshing lake, rather than a wide, rippling, superficial puddle. I want to be a mountain lake rather than a puddle, and that takes suffering. Trials make a person dig deep into the grace that God offers.

You wouldn't think that political unrest could be seen as a privilege. However, when I see many fellow missionaries take the the skies (some not by choice but by orders), I feel privileged that I am still allowed to stay. I feel privileged to be able to partake in this new way of life in Nicaragua, seeing with my own eyes, touching with my hands, hearing with my own ears, feeling my own heart race with anxiousness like most of those around me.

Even so, amidst the uproar, I am safe because of where I am living, because of where my offices are located. This is a type of privilege, to be close and yet not in the midst of it (another part of the injustice I must confess and deal with).

Yet the greatest privilege of all is to experience something that most of the world has or is experiencing. I feel humbled to realize that when one of my friends watched her stable country erupt in violence and unrest, I didn't take it as seriously as I should have. I had no idea what it was like to have what was expected to be normal ripped away. The increased tension, the contingency plans, the constant alert for evacuation or attacks. Until one experiences these things first hand, there's no way to know what it's like. Now I have the privilege in sharing in the suffering -to a minor degree- of the majority of the world. Now I know what to pray for, how to pray with more compassion and heart, for millions of people and especially my friends.

Any time God opens our eyes and hearts to connect more fully with humanity, more fully with the family of God worldwide, it's a privilege. We get to palpably feel that we are not alone, that we share in the burdens and joys of all of God's people. And we know that there are prayers being lifted before God by people we have never even met. I'm thankful to share in these trials of this country during this time.

The trials themselves are not a privilege, not a joy. But the results, the changes that they bring in us, the ways they bring forth the fruit of unity, steadfastness, faith... that's a privilege.