“We – even we here – hold the power and bear the responsibility.”
~ Abraham Lincoln

Every Christian who invests in the stock market using mutual funds has to take the good with the bad. In any given mutual fund there is a long list of companies, some of which support or fund causes that may be contrary to Christian principles.

It can be difficult to decide where to draw the line. I disagree with some of the practices of Wal-Mart, but I’m not going to get rid of a mutual fund I have just because .38% of the fund is in Wal-Mart Stores, Inc. I’m certain that I could also disagree with practices in some of the other companies that my mutual funds invest in, but my grievances with them are in areas of debatable principles.

Genocide is not a debatable principle.

If you are not yet aware of the ongoing crisis in Darfur, take a look at SaveDarfur.org for some basic facts regarding the government-funded slaughter of at least 400,000 Sudanese persons. If you own any mutual funds, there is a chance that you have investments in one or companies that maintain a business relationship with the government of Sudan.

American companies cannot legally operate in Sudan, but they can invest in foreign companies that operate in Sudan, including those companies that make a significant contribution to funding the genocide taking place there. Consequently, many individual investors are unknowingly supporting the slaughter of thousands of Sudanese people.

I checked out the four mutual funds we have using a screening tool created by the Sudan Divestment Taskforce, and found that two of them had significant investments in Schlumberger Ltd, a company that is still known to operate in Sudan, partially funding the Sudanese government with their taxes and business growth. We are taking steps to divest, and then reinvest in funds that do not include these companies.

The situation in Darfur is no less a horror than the Jewish holocaust in World War II. The number of lives lost are fewer, but the targeted killings are just as brutal.

Money talks if a government hungry for it sees it going away. If the militia don’t have funds, they can’t continue their killing rampage. This is our opportunity to take action.

This link tells the story of Liviu Librescu, who I mentioned in the Virginia Tech post yesterday. It tells about the Holocaust survivor’s life and also gives some description of how he barricaded the doorway of his Virginia Tech classroom protecting many of his students from the killer.

It doesn’t take much looking to find evidence that evil and suffering are a reality. The tragedy at Virgina Tech this week was no exception. Especially significant was the death of Professor Liviu Librescu, a survivor of the Holocaust. April 16, the day of the shooting, was also Holocaust Remembrance Day, or Yom Hashoah. Interviews with students revealed that Librescu died shielding his students from gunfire.

No matter how much money is made or how secure a person is in their circumstances, everyone is touched by evil and suffering to some degree. Yet the Bible consistently calls us to trust God, and to be thankful for his care. Some have chosen to dismiss the difficulty of reconciling a trustworthy God with inexplicable evil, but to ignore it only lessens our ability to communicate God’s trustworthiness.

We can move beyond the mystery of evil and into a deep trust in God, not by explaining why evil occurs, but by knowing that God uses broken people and infuses their lives with meaning. He is not in search of the successful brokers of power and accomplishment, for upon his return, “Jesus will look us over not for medals, diplomas, or honors, but scars.”

Where do we take the miasma of pain, suffering, and evil? Philosophical speculation and rational reflection suffer shipwreck on the shoals of the enormous difficulty. The only territory left to explore rivets our gaze on the vast, unbounded ocean of the glory of God.
- From Ruthless Trust by Brennan Manning

Faithful God,

When we have trusted you and staked our claim with your power, your interference has been obvious.

You interfere with our worry.
You interfere with our failings.
You interfere with our opinions.
You interfere with our relationships.
You interfere with our self-absorbed way of living.

Sometimes you don’t interfere with our pain the way we would like you to, but even then we see you more clearly in our affliction because of the way you interfere with our blindness.

Thank you for getting in our way.
We need you to stand in the paths of our brokenness.

Amen.

Tonight, my dinner conversation with Krista centered around the transformation that God is so patiently performing in each of our lives. I have been reminded a lot lately of the vacuum in my heart in the places where mercy, trust, and humility should be.

I shared an incident from the day before when someone turned in front of me after looking directly at me from their spot at the stop sign. I was angry enough to tell PT Cruiser how I felt as I passed. I won’t go into detail regarding the “one point” sermon I gave him, but suffice it to say that he got the message.

Krista shared her own stories, and they were enough to remind me that I am part of a larger human struggle to resemble more closely the One in whose image we were made. That struggle is always connected to our pride or unbelief, as Krista is learning in a Bible study she’s involved with.

Pride gives me the power to place myself as judge over PT Cruiser and his pals. I can also play jury and executioner if I so desire. Unfortunately, as I climb onto the judicial bench to proclaim guilt, I have forgotten that when my name appears on God’s daily docket, I am treated with great mercy. The foolishness of my harshness toward the mistakes of others is now painfully obvious.

Krista and I have wine with dinner a couple of times a week, and we always toast to something. Sometimes it’s to a memory, a friend, or a special place. Tonight we toasted to the need for more mercy.

As the wine hit my palette, our dinner table became a communion table. I was being cleansed, again.

It was the dark night of the soul. In search of light, I set out; first for the porch, then for the altar.

Increase of mind didn’t bring strength of heart. This was the first lesson. I read more, but still longed.

Increase in love lifted me, but at times my love was misdirected. Love for things and ideas made love seem empty. I loved more, but still longed.

Increase in pleasure was only a temporary relief. Guilt accompanied my excesses, leaving me not pleasure, but pain. I enjoyed more, but still longed.

Increase in prayer soothed my guilt and gave me hope. It was natural to pray for relief from my longing. It seemed the perfect answer, but I was disappointed. I prayed more, but still longed.

I wanted life without longing, but as I imagined it, life lost meaning. Would I want to live in a vacuum where I didn’t have to know want?

I accepted the truth: my destiny was wrapped up in desire. Desire for freedom, vulnerability, and safety–all of which are known in my Father’s care.

My longing remained–
thanks be to God.