by Chris Horst | Dec 1, 2017 | Blog |
Several times over the past few years, I have visited the Rwandan genocide memorial in Kigali. The first exhibit in the memorial displays an ominous image. At first glance, the picture is innocuous enough. It is far less grisly than many of the pictures throughout the rest of the memorial. But it is far more haunting.
In the picture, a Rwandan man sits in an examination room. A Belgian examiner measures the width and length of the man’s nose with a metal caliper. He then measures the eyes of the Rwandan man, contrasting and comparing the shape and size of the man’s eyes to a chart of various cultural eye shapes.
We now know that the Belgians sent scientists to Rwanda, wielding “scales and measuring tapes and calipers, and they went about weighing Rwandans, measuring Rwandan cranial capacities, and conducting comparative analyses of the relative protuberance of Rwandan noses.”
These tools, though far less violent than the machetes and guns used to perpetrate the genocide, are far more barbaric. When walking through the genocide memorial, jarring images of soldiers and militants line the walls. But it is this seemingly benign activity—a scientist wielding a caliper—that created division and preceded the slaughter of nearly one in ten Rwandan people.
First the calipers and scales were dispensed. Soon, the common physical appearances of the Hutus and Tutsis codified. Then, government officials mandated Rwandans record these divisions and differentiations between Hutus and Tutsis on identification cards. As the genocide unfolded, the perpetrators used these cards and physical differentiations to separate neighbors from each other. To separate friends and groups of students from their peers. To determine who lived and who died.
At the memorial, the second floor exhibits the terrible realities of genocides committed across the world and across history. In each case, division precedes violence. The Nazis forced Jewish men, women, and children to adorn their clothing or an armband with the Star of David. Turkish military and government officials organized the genocide against hundreds of thousands of Armenians who were identified as Christians on their national identification cards.
Earlier this year, we lived in the Dominican Republic for a few months. There, we learned about the history of Hispaniola and some of the horrific massacres carried out against ethnic groups on the island. In 1804, Haitian dictator Jean-Jacques Dessalines murdered all French residents who were unable to sing a Haitian nursery rhyme in Creole.
In a horrific turnabout, in 1937, Dominican dictator Rafael Trujillo commanded his troops to round up dark-skinned people living near the Haitian border. Once they did so, journalist Michele Wucker recounts that the soldiers held up sprigs of parsley and asked, “‘What is this thing called?’ The terrified victim’s fate lay in the pronunciation of the answer.”
If the victims were unable to get the Spanish just right, they were killed and thrown into the Dajabón River, known commonly as the Massacre River in commemoration of the thousands of people who were killed because of their inability to say perejil—parsley—correctly.
Massacre River flows between the Dominican Republic and Haiti. This geographic divide is emblematic of the many symbolic divides we create between ourselves. Caliper or nursery rhyme. Badge or identification card. These create borders between us, separating men and women from each other, signifying those who have more (and less) worth. These are of course heinous examples, but this evocative history gives us a glimpse into the human heart. And Christians are anything but immune.
Jesus says our oneness is the way that others will identify us as his followers: “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” Yet as clearly as Jesus prioritized unity among his followers, we are quick to disregard it. Our natural inclination is to splinter. For Protestants, protest is in our very name. In our tribe, when disagreements emerge, we split.
“Very soon we will find it difficult to sustain the metaphor of the ‘body of Christ,’” said Ajith Fernando, author and Youth for Christ teaching director. “We believe in ‘a lot of bodies’ of Christ … [but] there is one body of Christ.”
There is either one body or there is not. For followers of Christ, “Winning is when we are united, not when one has won and the other has lost,” Fernando argues.
As the culture around us in this country grows increasingly suspicious of and unfamiliar with our faith, it provides a new opportunity for Christians to share and show what we are for. To lead and serve differently. To focus on our unified mission and tenaciously pursue it. To do more together than we ever could do alone.
There is no better time of year than Christmas to model and extol this type of unity. The world around us sings our songs and tells and retells our favorite story. As we surge into Advent, might we eschew every temptation to castigate and embrace every opportunity to love.
by Chris Horst | Jun 15, 2017 | Blog |
Our minibus rumbled up the mountainside and pulled into our destination, a missionary compound just outside of Cabarete, Dominican Republic. The missionaries, Jon and Shannon Haslett, greeted us warmly as we climbed out. For the next few hours, they hosted me and a group of HOPE’s friends on their property. And I believe the Hasletts embody the future of how Christian missionaries and ministries will serve our neighbors.
Jon and Shannon Haslett (photo: Simon Tam)
A decade ago, the missionary stories I experienced, heard, and retold exposed a serious problem. Documented by excellent books like When Helping Hurts, Created to Flourish, and Dead Aid, these stories showed how our charitable efforts often created more problems they solved. This is HOPE International’s origin story. For a long time, we’ve gotten charity all wrong. And, even if we organize our charitable efforts in dignifying ways, we have another major problem. Christian nonprofit leaders often forget their identity first is in Jesus Christ.
But, I believe things have changed over the past decade. I believe these big ideas have begun to sink in. It’s now more common than not leaders I meet have read these books, are familiar with these ideas, and have made positive changes because of it.
Jon and Shannon embodied the makings of one of the telltale cautionary tales. Hailing from Southern California, they followed the way of Jesus, responding to God’s invitation to love and care for the vulnerable. 25 years ago, they sold it all and moved first to Caracas, Venezuela and then to Cabarete, Dominican Republic to minister to street kids. But in what I’ve observed with increasing regularity, the Hasletts serve their neighbors in all the right ways. They aren’t perfect and they are the first to admit the mistakes they have made along the way. But theirs is a story of when helping helps, of missionary service marked by dignity and faithfulness. Their ministry, Niños de la Luz, serves dozens of street kids each year in Venezuela and the DR.
As Jon and Shannon walked us around the campus, they introduced us to kids and staff members as we toured the property. We peppered them with questions. How did you get this property? How many boys live on campus? How do you share Jesus with them? What is the legal environment like? What happens when the kids graduate the program?
It’s impossible to summarize 25 years of faithful ministry in a few hundred words, but a few things jumped out to me.
First, the work is done together.
The Niños de la Luz campus is beautiful. The mountaintop location is breathtaking (and a miracle story in itself), but the facilities too are beautiful. The classrooms, skate park, boys’ homes, outdoor pizza oven, swimming pool, kitchen, and meeting rooms featured excellent craftsmanship. The reason for this, Jon said, was because of who did the work.
“The boys have built almost everything here,” Jon shared.
Central to the Hasletts’ work is their belief God designed all people to work, even boys abandoned to the streets by their parents. And when boys move into Niños de la Luz, work goes beyond household chores. These boys dream up and plan new building projects. They pour concrete floors, paint walls, construct roofs, and even make furniture. Their work is so good they’ve caught the attention of nearby hotels and restaurants who hire them to make furniture for their businesses.
The boys living here are not passive recipients of the charitable efforts of mission trippers. The Hasletts do employ the help of short-term trippers, but only when the work is done collaboratively with the boys. They build together, with the boys serving as the construction experts. And, if visiting trippers or donors bring clothes or candy to give to the kids, it isn’t just given away. Instead, the American swag stocks the community store, available for the boys to purchase with currency they earn when they embody the ministry’s core values.
Second, they plan for the future.
I was struck by the Hasletts long-term vision for the boys living on campus. Early in their ministry, they saw their graduates struggling to make it outside the comfortable confines of the ministry. Today, they look beyond graduation as a success point, helping prepare these boys for a life beyond. That’s why they launched a vocational school to help the boys learn welding, carpentry, and job skills. It’s a hands-on education, helping them develop their God-given gifts. And the training extends beyond the workshop. Last year Ninos de la Luz launched Vagamundo, a waffle and coffee shop situated right in the heart of the tourist district of Cabarete. There, boys in the program don’t just learn about job skills, but they work and earn good wages making waffles, pouring lattes, and serving customers. The business has exploded beyond Jon and Shannon’s expectations. And, as a regular during the two months I lived there, I have no trouble understanding why.
Finally, I was encouraged by their heart.
The Hasletts understand their strength and success flows from their complete reliance upon God. They pray continuously. Their staff and programs integrate the Gospel in holistic and powerful ways. The person of Jesus is not just motivational, nor tangential to their ministry, but central.
“Our work is all a testimony to God’s goodness to us,” Jon said.
As I walked the property, I was taken up with the beauty of God’s goodness and Jon and Shannon’s faithfulness. In one small community, operating largely outside of conferences and headlines, one couple now joined by many Dominican and Venezuelan staff, serves their neighbors with dignity and forbearance. One story does not a trend make. But they are not alone. Each week I’m meeting leaders like them and believe things are changing. The Hasletts provide a reason for hope and encouragement for those of us who have named the many ways the Good Samaritan movement has gone off track. We have ample work to do, but men and women like the Hasletts give me incredible hope for what lies ahead.
by Chris Horst | Mar 2, 2017 | Blog |
What should have been a 15-minute walk to the beach turned into a 45-minute stroll, our boys meandering the long dirt road leading to town from our rental home in Cabarete, Dominican Republic.
Our two-year-old, Abe, yelped with glee upon spotting each dog and motorcycle (it was a lot of yelping) along the way. Our six-year-old, Desmond, exchanged holas with our neighbors, confidently deploying one of the ten Spanish words he’s devoted to memory. Our two-month-old, June, enjoyed a siesta as she bounced along with me in the baby carrier.
We reached our home in Cabarete earlier this week after a long, red-eye journey to get here. For two months, this Dominican beach town will be home. We live next door to a man who sells trinkets to tourists on the beach and across from a man who drives a mototaxi for his livelihood. Our home is beautiful, borderig Parque Nacional El Choco. Vistas of the sprawling lagoons linger outside each window, beckoning us to load up the kiddos in the canoes.
Baby June: An exemplar of rest.
In Cabarete, we live at the nexus of two worlds. In this town are the heights of global prosperity and all its accompaniments. Beautiful gated resorts line the beaches, kitesurfing excursions entice thrill seekers, and breathtaking waterfront restaurants serve bounty from the sea. And, in the shadows and side streets, prostitution runs amok. In just a few days, we’ve already seen it evidenced. And, with a wide wealth gap between the tourists and most of the Dominicans we’ll meet, these two worlds exist in a harmonious tension.
It’s in this diverse town where we’re taking sabático. I crossed ten years with HOPE in June. And, with the $3,000 milestone gift awarded HOPE employees upon reaching ten years, we rented this home for two months. Here, we’ll canoe the lagoons, adventure to the beaches, and host family in our Dominican home.
Andy Crouch once said sabbatical (and Sabbath) are designed by God as “circuit breakers for idolatry.” The idol we worship, of course, is our work. Paid or unpaid, it is a longstanding human tradition to elevate the importance of our daily work to unhealthy levels. When something good becomes something ultimate, you’ve got an idol. And it’s Crouch’s view that most of us wait till we retire to actually practice sabbatical. Crouch’s counsel is to work longer—but healthier—by taking Sabbath more like the every-seven-years prescription outlined by God for his people (and not just the priests and professional clergy!).
Ten years into my work at HOPE, it’s easy for my good work at HOPE to feel ultimate. And, I hate to even write it, but I can even feel indispensable. I’m not, of course. But it’s easy for feelings of my own importance to undermine my dependence upon God and others for the good work I do. Thus, it’s time to break that circuit. For two months, most of my job will be done by the capable leaders around me.
A sabbatical is not something I deserve. It is something I need. A sabbatical is not something God mandates to constrain my work, but rather an exercise to position my work in its rightful role in my heart and life. Paid clergy and professors are decent at taking sabbatical, I’ve found. But, the rest of us? Not so much.
So, for two months I will rest, read, adventure with my family, and begin work on my next book project with Peter Greer.
So, now the work of detaching begins. For nine weeks, I’ll be much more unplugged. If you want to reach me, a carrier pigeon sent to Cabarete might be your best option. Till May, bendiciones, amigos.
by Chris Horst | Feb 19, 2015 | Blog |
On a recent trip to the Dominican Republic, I accompanied a group of donors to visit a few of the entrepreneurs served by HOPE’s wonderful partner, Esperanza. One of the women we met wasn’t a typical success story. She sold clean water to her community. But, to be frank, she was getting badly beat by her competitors.
And that was not a challenge we should try to solve for her.
Interestingly, her competitors charged more that she did for pure water, but they were delivering the water door-to-door, a service she wasn’t able to start. As a result, her profits and her customers were disappearing. She described the difficulty of the business environment in her neighborhood and recounted the many barriers holding her back from achieving her dreams.
While we were with her, I noticed a few of our guests holding whispered side conversations. I sensed I knew what they were discussing. When we got back on the bus, they confirmed my assumptions. They shared that they were interested in buying her a truck to deliver her water to her customers. A $10,000 truck could change her business prospects forever, they shared.
As we drove away from the community, another member of our group spoke up. He suggested that the struggle and challenges she was facing were really important. She needed, he said, to figure out how to overcome those challenges without us solving them for her.
If we simply removed that barrier for her, another one would certainly take its place. Perhaps the water system would need repairs or intermittent electricity would demand a bigger generator. Removing today’s obstacle would do more harm than good.
Finding a way around those obstacles would define and shape her character. With the support of the Esperanza team, she would need to create a plan, lean on her community, and work really hard to accomplish her goals. In these sorts of situations, it’s actually much harder not to buy the truck. But that’s what she needed more.
My wife, Alli, has taught first grade for many years in one of Denver’s most vulnerable neighborhoods. Interestingly, the importance of obstacles has prevailed in academic research on how at-risk students can thrive. In How Children Succeed, journalist Paul Tough chronicles why kids need to be allowed to fail.
“Most parents are more worried than they need to be about their children’s grades, test scores and IQ,” wrote Tough. “And what we don’t think about enough is how to help our children build their character… In the classroom and outside of it, American parents need to encourage children to take chances, to challenge themselves, to risk failure. Paradoxically enough, giving our kids room to fail may be one of the best ways we can help them succeed.”
After extensive research on how kids thrive, Tough concludes that it’s not test scores or IQ that determines whether or not children succeed. It’s character. More specifically, it’s grit. It’s when kids see obstacles not as defeating or immovable, but as challenges they can overcome. When kids develop grit, they develop the buoyancy and work ethic they need to thrive in school, work and life.
In her classroom, Alli often opens up lessons with her low-income first graders by saying something like this:
“I’m about to give you guys a math problem that makes many third-graders cry.”
The kids inch forward in their seats. She’ll then give the kids a chance to opt-out if they’re scared. They don’t. They know they can handle it. Because Alli’s taught them her classroom is a safe place for failure. That together they can work together to overcome seemingly insurmountable challenges. When that happens in her classroom and in the Dominican Republic and in our own lives, obstacles become positively formative, not problems to be avoided.
by Chris Horst | Feb 26, 2013 | Blog |
It was a first for me. I’ve led many trips to the Dominican Republic, but they’ve always been HOPE International trips. We’ve exposed our guests to the Dominican culture and introduced them to the hard-working clients we serve. But for this trip, I linked arms with friends at Edify and Plant With Purpose. We invited friends of each of our organizations to meet Dominicans served by all three of our organizations.
Compassion, Healing Waters and the Local Church
We landed in Santo Domingo just after noon. Our guests packed light and we were able to bypass baggage claim and head straight for our first ministry visit. As a bonus, we arranged a visit to a church near our hotel. This Pentecostal church modeled partnership perhaps better than I’ve ever visited. Their church building was a hub for ministry in the community. In the basement, children sponsored through Compassion International met in classrooms to study God’s word, learn to read and to play with one another. A sewing and literacy training center was located on the second floor. And at the ground level, a clean water outlet disbursed safe water to the community. Healing Waters International designed the water solution. Using creative technologies will provide clean water to this community for at least ten years.
Church-based water filtration technology
Highlight: The pastor, Domingo, reflected on how his church has changed over the years. Early on, he and his church condemned their neighborhood, quick to note the sin they saw in their community. Today, however, the community knows them by the way they serve. And the church is growing. This church serves with the help of partners, all of whom work with and through their church. “We see all these organizations as links in the same chain.”
Plant With Purpose
On day two, we were on the road early and started our day with Plant With Purpose (PWP). We visited a community they serve and met the farmers they work with. We toured the farm of Eladio Cabrera. He showed us the compost pile and organic fertilizer he created with the help of PWP and pointed out the diverse crops growing on his beautiful land. Avocados, coffee, pineapples, yucca, and citrus trees colored the fertile countryside. We finished our morning with a lunch at his home, feasting on the produce from his farm.
Highlight: As we stood by the lemon trees overlooking the rolling Dominican hills, Mr. Cabrera commented, “Even if someone offers a great price, I will not sell this farm. I raised my family on this land.”
Plant With Purpose farm
Edify
In the afternoon, we visited the first of three Edify schools we saw during the trip. Edify serves over 500 “edupreneurs” in the DR. On average, these private Christian school proprietors outperform government schools by a margin of 3:1 and do so affordably. The first school–Mi Casita (“my little house”)–served close to 300 students, all paying $20/month for a top-notch education. There are some children unable to afford that rate so this edupreneur actually has 35 students on full scholarship. My wife, Alli, teaches first grade in a Title 1 school in the Denver Public Schools system. And so meeting these students and seeing them thrive brought great joy to me, personally.
First grade students in an Edify school
Highlight: We prayed for the proprietor before leaving her school. And she blessed us by returning the favor, praying for the members of our group. The spirit of mutuality we experienced throughout the trip sharply countered the paternalism so common on many short-term missions trips.
HOPE International
We visited two additional Edify schools on Friday. Our partner, Esperanza, partners with Edify as their lender. When these school owners are ready to expand or improve their buildings or add computer labs, Esperanza and Edify together provide the loan. Esperanza serves over 8,000 Dominican entrepreneurs. Brunilda was the “missionary banker” to the three Edify edupreneurs we visited and a separate group of eleven entrepreneurs we also met. We participated in an Esperanza community bank meeting, where Brunilda artfully modeled the three services HOPE provides its clients: biblically-based business training, savings accounts, and business loans.
Brunilda, a missionary banker in her community
Highlight: We finished our day by visiting Ingrid. Ingrid took her first business loan out in 2010. At that time, she had just one sewing machine and two employees. Today, she has five sewing machines and seven employees. Her business continues to flourish. I was struck, however, not by her business success, but by the way she conducted her business. The Bible on her desk was not a paper weight. It was her source of encouragement and guidance in her business. “My faith impacts everything that I do,” she shared. “I came to Esperanza for the business loan, but experiencing God was the real value of working with them.”
Ingrid, seamstress extraordinaire
Summary: The 13 guests I traveled with were all emerging young leaders. As a group, we read the story of William Wilberforce, a man who at the age of 26 determined to abolish the slave trade in the British Empire. And he did. But he didn’t do it alone. In his summary of Wilberforce’s life, biographer John Pollock summarized, “Wilberforce proved that a man can change his times, but that he cannot do it alone.” Amen.
