Never Forget

Sometimes I'm just disgusted by this world.

Today is one of those days.

It's so easy for me to look around and hear their cries, see their misery, feel their brokenness and I just want to scream. I study history and my stomach feels sick; my thoughts swirl thinking of the atrocities that have been committed. Why did the world stand still and watch it happen? My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. How did they ever hate this much? My heart squeezes shut and I don't know what to feel... or maybe I forgot how to feel.

And then I'm disgusted by this world.

I'm taking a class called "International Humanitarian Intervention." I guess I should have known what I was getting myself into. We weren't going to talk about fluffy stuff and pat ourselves on the shoulder because the United States sends the most money (not percentage) of foreign aid abroad. I knew the class wouldn't be like that. I knew that we'd look at genocides and natural disasters. I knew that we'd analyze the effects of the international community intervening... or not.

And I knew I'd get disgusted by this world.

I felt nauseous as our professor told us that when the Hutu Power government in Rwanda imported 500,000 machetes, the world simply watched. Oh wait, they didn't. They sold them the machetes. They sold them enough machetes so that 1 in 5 working-aged men could own one. Machetes-- the historical weapon of choice in this nation.The historical background was stacked against peace in this small nation. The red flags were pretty apparent. And yet that wasn't enough to stop the mindless massacre of hundreds of thousands of Tutsis and Tutsi sympathizers.

 In 1994 Rwanda had a population of about 7.5 million people. In 100 long days, a minimum of 800,000 people were slaughtered. In 2001, New York City had roughly 8 million people. On the tragic day of 9/11, about 3,000 people died. To put it in perspective... Two and a half 9/11s happened for 100 straight days in Rwanda. How is it that the United States lost their mind after 9/11 (yes, admittedly, an awful event in American history. I am in no way minimizing it's horror) yet stood still, even opposed (for some time) peace keeping operations in Rwanda?

Almost 20 years have passed since the Rwandan genocide. Twenty years. We hear talk about genocides and then the phrases like, "Never forget" and "Remember" are thrown about. What exactly are we remembering? Are we choosing to never forget enough to prevent future genocides? Do the nations of the world have enough political will to step in and prevent these kinds of massacres? Will they own up to their Responsibility to Protect?

But it's so easy to point fingers. And blame? Oh, there's plenty to go around. But if I really stop and ask myself what makes me different from them, I have to hesitate. What assures me that I'd never be capable of committing such horrible crimes? What makes me so sure that I would stand up and speak for those who can't?

I'm human just like them. Without the redeeming work of the Spirit in me, I'd be done for. I could fall into that kind of depravity... without Jesus, I am that depraved. I wasn't just a "generally good person" and then Jesus came along and made me into a "better" person.

No. I was a dead person. Jesus came, stepped into this world of suffering, poured out his blood and grace and extended a new life to me. He made me into a new person.

And because of that... because of this new creature dealeo, I can't be disgusted by this world. Because Jesus loved this world enough to suffer for it... I must love it enough to hurt for it. I need to let my heart hurt because of the suffering. I need to ache because of the depravity. I need to cringe at sin. I need to cry out on their behalf.

I must never forget that I was once dead. I must remember that I am new. I must love.

No, I can't be disgusted.