If you are a church-going person you already know that you will not hear any scripture about the pending birth of Jesus until the Fourth Sunday in Advent, that is, if your congregation follows the common lectionary. This coming Sunday is the Second Sunday in Advent, and the opening salvo from the third chapter of Luke is great news for all of us. Somewhere in the background a 30-something Jesus is waiting in the wings to come on the scene. Meanwhile, his cousin John the Baptist is out in the Palestinian wilderness preaching like a man possessed.

It is intentional that author Luke goes to great detail to name the political and religious power people of the day – the Roman Emperor, Pontius Pilate (the one who would order Jesus crucified), King Herod and ruler brother, Philip, as well as the high priests. None of these power people will be holding a press conference with breaking news, announcing the coming of the Messiah. None of these will be receiving an authentic word from on high. Nope. Luke says that among a setting featuring all those ruthless and corrupt power people, the word of God came to John… in the wilderness!

No authority figure needed to receive a word from God.

So, if a word from God can come to John, that word from God can come to you. John’s mission and activity out in the wilderness is about one thing only. God is coming to you and for you. God is not a top-down, imposing-her-power kind of god. God works at the grassroots in the midst of life wherever it happens.

Whatever it takes, God comes to you.

Luke, the author, writes of the physical world being shaken up as God comes for you. Luke speaks of mountains being leveled and valleys being filled. In an Advent sermon in December 2003, New Testament Professor Mark Allen Powell gave a sermon in my congregation in Colorado on the 2nd Sunday in Advent. I still vividly remember it. And considering all the stuff I have heard preached, that’s remarkable! What he proclaimed is that Luke’s words are an early rendition of Marvin Gaye and Tammy Terrell’s 1967 version of Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.

Ain't no mountain high enough
Ain't no valley low enough,
Ain't no river wide enough
To keep me from getting to you, baby.

That’s the great news. Ain’t no mountain high enough, ain’t no tragedy harsh enough, ain’t no adversity challenging or crippling enough, ain’t no obstacles or excuses profound enough to keep God from coming for you. Whether it’s around a Christmas tree, at a candlelight service, in a delivery room, in a homeless shelter, on the front line of a military zone, or in the midst of the most profound grief you have ever experienced, God is coming to you and for you. Count on it!

 In the abiding hope of the empty tomb,

Frame the Day

It is always a promising idea to frame whatever the day may bring with the bedrock proclamation, “The tomb is empty!” For me, it is the lens through which I strive to interpret and react to whatever life might serve up to me or to our world. This is not to say that I do not get anxious when confronted with ominous news or get very frustrated with the powers of this world not being able to pay serious attention to things like the developing global calamity of climate change. Yet, when I get knocked off my center, it is remembering and clinging to the promise wrought by the proclamation, “The tomb is empty” that centers me back to true north.

I had to find that true north when my heart was wrenched by the battle with a glioblastoma and the inevitable death of my best friend – a lifelong friend. “The tomb is empty” is what framed me when I was called upon to conduct and craft my words for Stuart’s celebration of life service for close to 400 people on a farm north of Statesville, NC. I had to find that true north late on a Friday evening while I was with my wife, Harriet, enjoying the fall colors at the Lutheridge conference and retreat center near Asheville. A nurse at Winship Cancer Center called me with the news that I was no longer in remission in my fight with leukemia. And daily I have to stay held by the bedrock proclamation when our siblings in Haiti are having to endure unnecessary daily suffering and our own government, who is complicit in Haiti’s demise, does nothing.

 The Tomb is Empty

The tomb that held Jesus, the one whom they crucified, is empty. To remind oneself of this is not a psych trick or a cliché. It is a reality. In the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus from the dead, God has already overcome everything that would demean us, fragment us, and destroy us. By the grace and tenacious compassion of God, love and life do finally win in the end.

In our congregations that use the ecumenical lectionary, the 1st Sunday in Advent comes with Jesus standing with his followers and pointing to some very calamitous events on the horizon (Luke 21). Contrary to the religious hucksters of our day, Jesus was not pointing to the end times. He was pointing to events just over the horizon. The nature of the coming trials could fit any generation, including ours. Nations still rise against nation. A global pandemic is still wreaking havoc and death. Political one-upmanship and culture wars are undermining our capacity to act on the big picture issues that matter not only for us but also for all humanity and all of creation. Cable news, social and the mainstream media deal in sensationalism and “click bait” rather than substance. These are trying times with a lot at stake.  

When Jesus was speaking truth of what was soon to come, he admonished his followers on how to respond. “Stand up and raise your heads.” Do not panic. Do not hide. Do not become cynical. And for God’s sake, do not give up or give in to despair. Despite evidence that would suggest otherwise, God still yet reigns and owns the future. Keep loving one another and this world. Keep doing what you can to make the world a better place for all. Be my heart, hands, and feet in the world. Jesus could say that because he knew that he would soon be taking a beating and be put to death by unspeakable torture and laid in a tomb. But he also knew, trusting the One who sent him, that on a Sunday morning, women who first came to the tomb would run and report the tomb is empty.

The last three years have been among the most difficult in Haiti’s long history of unrest and corruption that together maintain Haiti’s status as the most impoverished nation in the Western Hemisphere. For 20 years, the Haitian Timoun Foundation (htflive.org) has partnered with the Haitian Education and Leadership Program (uhelp.net) to create a rising class of talented and dedicate young professionals who will forge a path towards Haiti becoming a more just society. In an extremely challenging context, HELP has an astonishing track record of creating life-giving impact. In the following op-ed, two of Haiti’s finest, Daphnée Charles and Stephanie Rubin, speak to the current crisis. They, their tenacious resiliency, and character speak to why we need Haiti more than Haiti needs us.

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The murder of our President last week is a shocking development in a country that has become almost numb to shocking developments. How did we get here?  How have we, the first nation in the world to abolish slavery, gotten used to cohabiting with chaos, up to and including the assassination of the President? We seek to answer that question and propose ideas to build the Haiti most of us want to live in.

Both of us are among the rare “success stories” of Haiti’s struggling democratic transition. Daphnée was born in 1986, weeks after the fall of the brutal 34-year Duvalier family dictatorship. Stephanie was born in 1995 and grew up in one of the most lawless districts of the capital. We are lifelong witnesses to, and victims of, the degradation of Haiti’s politics, economics, and security. Often we studied by kerosene lamp because the state rarely provides electricity and sometimes we studied under our beds as gun battles from gang warfare raged outside. Daphnée’s parents didn’t finish primary school and Stephanie’s didn’t finish secondary, but our parents’ focus on education and our love of learning saved us; we won scholarship after scholarship, necessary for success in a country where public secondary schools educate no more than 20 percent of age-eligible children. Now with college degrees, we are part of Haiti’s “one percent”, the educated, economic elite.

How should Haiti work toward providing all its children a shot at similar success? First, Haiti and must focus on process over products. Second it must prioritize quality public education at all levels, with an emphasis on civic education and patriotism. Many countries may feel that Haiti’s problems are far removed, but the coronavirus has shown us that distant problems that we ignore can soon show up on our door, with devastating effects. So we ask that Haiti’s longstanding partners remain engaged to overcome the weaknesses of past efforts, and we invite new partners to join us in our renewed efforts.

Since the adoption of Haiti’s constitution in 1987, Haitians and our international partners have valued the products of democracy at the expense of its processes. Elections are a prime example. Our constitution establishes a permanent council (CEP in French) to organize elections. The process of electing the CEP is complicated, so for the 1988 elections our leaders made do by appointing a temporary council. No one paid much attention; the election took place. But that single failure was the harbinger of a dangerous trend. Since then, Haitians have held, and international partners have financed, seven Presidential elections as well as additional parliamentary and local elections without ever constituting a permanent CEP. Thirty-three years later Haiti remains without a CEP or any credible electoral institution. Haiti and its partners have so ignored processes in favor of quick results that today there is no constitutional method of choosing an interim President to replace the murdered Moise. Together we must commit to the long-term investment required to building these institutions which are the foundation of a durable democracy.

An educated population is another pre-requisite for shared participation and prosperity. Although universal education is enshrined in the constitution, and we have made great gains at the primary level, Haiti enrolls only 20 percent of children at the secondary level, the lowest in our hemisphere and less than a quarter of the regional average. Imagine trying to run a modern company with no more than 20 percent of the employees having reached secondary school. We Haitians are trying to run a country like that. Haiti and its friends must commit to massive, long term investment in universal education at the primary, secondary and tertiary levels if we are to have any chance of broadly shared prosperity. Post-secondary education, long dismissed by international donors, is particularly important. Without our university scholarships, our current success and influence would have been unimaginable. Luckily, international donors have begun to see the light on this issue; for the first time ever, the UN sustainable development goals include targets for university scholarships in developing countries. This will be money well spent. 

Good education is necessary but not sufficient. As we have reached adulthood we have seen too many of Haiti’s educated leaders prioritize their narrow interest over the national interest, and either look the other way when faced with corruption, or participate directly, as the reports on the recent PetroCaribe scandal demonstrate. We have been lucky to receive strong civic education throughout our academic career, including university scholarships with a focus on active citizenship, community service and ethical leadership. Lessons we learned from our primary school civics textbook, I Love Haiti, and from planting trees every May Day, still guide us. Civic education transformed our view of our role in society and what we can accomplish for our country, so much so that one of our service projects at university has blossomed into ACTIVEH, Haiti’s largest university student association. If all Haitian children had access to this same information and encouragement in their youth, we could really build a new Haiti.

Of course, counting on people’s good feelings and good will are not enough. Corruption exists where there is opportunity. And today our institutions are so weak that the opportunity exists everywhere. Which brings us back to institution building. We have been nurtured by schools and programs that are among Haiti’s few remaining strong institutions. We have seen how the emphasis on policies and procedures maintain these institutions and are the foundation of their successful products, among which we can count ourselves.  

Rather than use our education to move abroad, we chose to stay and build a better Haiti. Today Haiti is weak and needs international collaboration: thoughtful, targeted and most of all sustained collaboration to strengthen critical institutions, provide good education to all Haitians and encourage them to use their skills to fulfill the long-lost promise of Haiti’s inspiring revolution. Won’t you join us?

Daphnée Charles is the Development Officer at the HELP scholarship program. In 2017 the Lorquet Foundation named her one of Haiti’s most influential women. Stephanie Rubin is a Fulbright Scholar at the Rochester Institute of Technology, pursuing an MBA in information management. Both women are graduates of HELP.

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With Abiding Hope,