The World Through the Eyes of an Imperfect Saint: May 2013

One month ago today, all the USP students boarded buses and vans and began the 17 hour drive to Rwanda. It seems like a century ago, and fitting all the details of this past month into one blog post would be torturous (for myself and the poor soul reading it). So, knowing that I will never do justice to the experiences here, I will try to recap as best as possible.

Rwanda:

As I mentioned previously, 17 hours... "Wow, just wow!" It took a while, but we finally made it to the capital city of Kigali (pronounced 'Chi'gali (like Chicago)). My first impression was how unlike Uganda it was. Rwanda is clean, well organized, and pretty modern/western in comparison with Uganda. The city streets are paved, all landscaping is well manicured, goats and cows don't wander the city streets and plastic bags are actually illegal. Kigali is an up-and-coming city, and it's plainly evident. We spent the first day at two memorials - quite possibly the worst day of my life. The church at Nyamata, where 8,000 people were murdered, was particularly painful. Hearing the stories of what people did to families, to children, inside the church and seeing the piles of shredded clothes and the broken bones and skulls of the victims... I have no words to describe how heart wrenching it was. It was easy to ask "Where was God?", especially considering that this and many other massacres happened inside churches. But instead of being bitter and waiting for an explanation of how He could let this happen, He answered me with "I Am." I was blessed with the understanding/sense that God was in the midst of this 100 day genocide, He was with the people inside this church. And as much as it broke my heart to see what had happened, it was nothing in comparison to the grief and sorrow God felt as people, made in the image of God, brutally murdered other people. I immediately thought of the verse "And the Lord said, 'What have you done? The voice of your brother's blood is crying to me from the ground.'" (Gen 4:10) And was blessed with the smallest glimpse of the pain God feels as a result of our brokenness, hate and sin.

Thankfully, the next day we spent time working with CARSA (http://www.carsa.org.rw/carsa%20english.htm) an organization that focuses on reconciliation between victims of the genocide and their attackers. This was at the complete opposite end of the spectrum from what we had seen the day before. As part of the reconciliation process, an offender can meet with their victim and ask for forgiveness, if the victim accepts they begin to work towards living alongside one another and building a relationship out of the violence. We spent the morning helping CARSA and the community build a house for a woman, Bridget, whose family had been killed during the genocide. When she got up and spoke, she explained how she hadn't had a home since the attacks and was so grateful to everyone for a place she could call her own, and for the community that would continue to support her and her family. When she sat down a man (who looked older than he probably was) got up and started speaking. Alphonse explained that he was part of the group who had murdered her parents and siblings. My heart turned to stone. I don't think I've ever met anyone who had ever killed another human being before, and this man who killed at least one family had just been sitting one person away from me. As he spoke, anger gave way to the realization that Alphonse was just a man. He was just another person, a human just like me, my parents, friends, neighbors. He has the capability to do good and to do evil, and 19 years ago he made a terrible (that word isn't strong enough, but we'll keep this kid-friendly) decision to act on evil. He had repented and asked for forgiveness and spent his time helping build up a life for this woman and her family. They now live next to each other, share a cow (big deal), and her sons spend time with his family. I'm not sure that I will ever be able to understand that level of forgiveness, and honestly hope that I never have to be put in a position where that type of forgiveness is necessary. But to think that I have witheld forgiveness from people who have done far less to offend me is almost sickening. The love that was shown just blew me away. Through the heart of hatred, death and darkness, light broke through. Like the new growth after a fire, life prevailed. Love prevailed.

We had the wonderful privilege of meeting with other people and other organizations focused on rebuilding the people of Rwanda. Because of language barriers, many times we just danced with our new friends. And while there is still much brokenness, the joy that people have is contagious.