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Last summer I had the privilege of working
at Open House Ministries' day camp. The camp gave the
children from the wrong side of Homestead an opportunity
to learn and have fun in an environment where they would
be exposed to Christian love.
The voices that stick with me from camp last summer
are those of Joel, Julia, Ellis, and Michellae. They
are children's voices. They are voices that I still
hear ringing in my ears.
They are crying out for a new way. They don't want
the lives of those that they see all around them everyday.
They don't want to be a junkie. They don't want to become
homeless. They don't want to be hungry when they go
to bed. They don't want to become their parents, the
over-worked and under-paid migrant workers. They don't
want to become a single mother trying to support a family
and rear a family at the same time. They don't want
their community to still be struggling to survive when
they are adults. They don't want to be faced with the
'murder problem' that is plaguing Homestead right now.
They want a better life.
I can still hear Ellis telling me that his favorite
thing for dinner is egg and that he didn't have any
breakfast this morning either.
I can still see Michellae's mom getting into a shouting
match with an eleven year old, and it ending as we escorted
her out of camp I can still hear her yelling, 'well
you're ugly' at the child.
I can still hear Julia's gentle voice singing the songs
each day at camp, and I worry that she will be corrupted
by her surroundings.
I can still see the temper tantrums that Joel would
throw as he spouted off to us in his family's native
language, Spanish.
The voices I heard were not happy voices. However,
I have hope. I believe that the empowering work that
Open House Ministries is the work of my Savior, Jesus
Christ. I struggled along side Ellis, Michellae, and
Julia, trying creating a better tomorrow for each one
of us.
And I am happy to be with you here today with a concern
for the poor, the outcasts, and the oppressed, working
together for a better world, a world that looks a little
more like the kingdom of God. But these works are not
where I find hope. I know that anything can fail me,
even if its practices seem to be in line with God's
will. I know that Ellis, Michellae, and Julia might
not be changed by the work we did together this summer.
I know that we may be gathered here with every intention
of doing God's work in this world, but we fail.
We are all sinners. This is the reason I put my hope
in a higher place. To borrow from Tony Campolo, I am
happy to say that although it may be Friday, I know
Sunday is coming. The children of Homestead may be in
the depths of despair, but I have hope for a new day.
I hope for Sunday, when life is victorious over death.
This is where I place my hope.
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