The Great Divide

Last week, I realized that I’ve been in the presence of one of the most amazing barriers in the world on a weekly basis without even realizing it.  This barrier separates two people, two stories, and two drastically different sets of emotions as effectively as the Berlin Wall.  It divides the clean and the unclean, partitions a human being into mobile and paralyzed sections, and in some ways separates the past and the future. 

In all honesty, the thing itself it’s quite unassuming.  It’s made up of a painstakingly sterilized green cloth, supported on each end by forceps clipping it to vertical metal bars.  On one side, brilliantly focused spotlights illuminate a small patch of skin exposed between layers of fabric.  On the other, amid a tangle of wires, lines, and equipment, is a young woman’s face—nervous, expectant, and hopeful. 

It only takes a few minutes for the power of this barrier to become apparent.  Place yourself in my shoes for a moment: You’re standing about six feet away from the barrier, with a perfect view of each side.  On the right, blood, muscle, skin, and fat are exposed to the blinding glare of the spotlights.  Masked men and women work quickly and quietly with a wide array of stainless steel tools, cutting, pulling, stretching, and suturing.  They are completely absorbed in their work, and scarcely glance across the barrier.  On the left, the young woman, her hair wrapped neatly in a surgical cloth, has an expression of radiant joy on her face.  Her gaze is fixed on a bundle of green towels in the arms of a nurse.  The bundle, which is the focal point of her joy, contains her newborn child.     

Perhaps most extraordinary is the child herself.  So soon after entering the world under the blinding spotlights on the right side of the barrier, the baby crossed over to the left.  She bridged this gap without even knowing it, without realizing the power of the mental snapshot she helped create in my mind, without realizing she just changed her mother’s life.  Remarkable.

The image of this child’s arrival that imprinted itself on my memory seems particularly applicable this Christmas season.  New life entered the world, and began crossing barriers from the moment she took her first breaths.  Although her arrival was anticipated by some, this birth went largely unnoticed by the world around her.  The hospital and surrounding community continued life as usual, taking only the time to record the delivery of another child in their log books. 

I imagine that Jesus’ arrival over two millennia ago was quite similar.  Minus the operating theater, sterile barrier, and medical advances, our Savior also entered the world in the middle of a bloody mess.  His arrival was cherished and celebrated by a few, but unheard of by many.  Yet from the moment of his birth he began changing lives.  This Advent, as we look forward to spending time with family and friends, sharing food, singing carols, exchanging gifts, and celebrating dozens of other Christmas traditions, let us not forget the birth of this baby boy and how his arrival has touched us all. 

Reflection on COP 17

Back story:  Last Saturday, I had the opportunity to attend the multi-faith opening rally for the seventeenth Conference of the Parties (COP 17) in Durban.  The rally, which was held at King’s Park rugby stadium, was well organized, sponsored, and endorsed.  The event featured performances by dozens of local and national musicians, the presentation of an interfaith petition on the need to regulate climate change to the president of COP, and addresses from several very well known public figures,  the most notable of which were endurance swimmer Louis Pugh and Archbishop Desmond Tutu.  Leaders from dozens of faiths and faith backgrounds stood together and expressed their support for the goals of COP17.  Students made up a significant portion of the crowd; they sang, danced, and cheered throughout the concerts and rally.  Some attendees had traveled from as far as Soweto, Norway, and Kenya to attend; it was invigorating to be present with such a high energy group. 

Despite all this energy and enthusiasm, there were several very noticeable clouds hanging over the rally.  Other than the massive thunderstorm moving in from the north, the most conspicuous was attendance: organizers had expected to pack the 40,000 seat stadium, but at its peak the audience probably only numbered around 2,000 to 3,000.  As a result, the stadium had a somewhat forgotten feeling, as if the rest of Durban had played a twisted practical joke on the multi-faith rally participants.  Although I don’t want to discredit Durbanites’ senses of humor, another explanation may help explain the low participation at this rally.

First, a brief tangent: I’m sure most readers are familiar with the statistics about which nations contribute the most to global greenhouse gas emissions and climate change.  Wealthy, industrialized countries, particularly the United States, emit the vast majority of greenhouse gases into the atmosphere.  Members of these countries also use a disproportionately large share of the world’s resources to maintain their lifestyles, industries, and economies.  On the other hand, developing nations use a fraction of the resources their wealthier neighbors consume and contribute a similarly small proportion of greenhouse gas emissions.  In addition, residents of these nations (who collectively make up the majority of the world’s population) are the most vulnerable to the effects of climate change:  droughts, floods, and rising sea levels are devastating for communities who are struggling to survive under the best of conditions. 

The lack of attendance at last Sunday’s rally is a perfect example of one of the biggest challenges to those interested in reversing climate change.  As the low turnout showed, many citizens of developing nations (i.e. some of those who are most affected by climate change) are also rarely able to make their voices heard in the struggle to stop it.  The social and economic circumstances that define the lives of many people besieged by unemployment, oppression, and poverty force families to prioritize everything in their lives.  It is understandably difficult for someone who is uncertain where tomorrow’s meal will come from to dedicate time, energy, and capital to abstract movements like multi-faith rallies or COP 17.  This isn’t to say that the world’s poor and marginalized are unaware of or apathetic about the causes and effects of climate change, but that their daily struggle for survival limits opportunities to join the resistance movement.

Those of us who contribute the most to changes in our planet’s climate, on the other hand, have ample incentive (and responsibility!) to care about the problem and the social and financial means to contribute to its solution.  This is both a privilege and an obligation: we owe it to ourselves, our children, and our global family to take the necessary steps to slow the snowballing changes in climate, and are blessed to have the resources to contribute to the solution.  Unfortunately, as the need for seventeen COP’s shows, many nations with the ability to influence climate change choose to use their affluence to remain indifferent and unaffected by it.  This is a luxury that few in the developing world possess. 

Although climate change will affect everyone in the world, the first major steps to slow its effects must be taken by the privileged and wealthy of the developed world.  To paraphrase Paul Farmer, anyone interested in being called humane has plenty of incentive to investigate and act on the inequalities that make up both the causes and effects of climate change.  Developed nations have the resources to take sustainable, renewable technology from science fairs, show rooms, and corporate propaganda to the countries and communities where it can be directly used to make a difference.   A massive worldwide industry is waiting to grow around renewable energy, but governments and corporations must work together to provide the jump-start necessary to get it off the ground.  Whether COP 17 provides a concrete legislative launch pad for the global fight against climate change or not, we can no longer ignore our ability and responsibility to help reverse climate change, both for our generation and those to come.