Goods & Service
following God’s heart to the margins
By: Elisha Smith
This article is part of the Claritas fall 2024 issue, Margins. Read the full print release here.
The sun was quickly setting. I knew I needed to get back to town before evening arrived. The warm Middle Eastern sun seemed to kiss the dusty plains as it quickly sank below the horizon, serving as a reminder that time was short for me to be back in town by dark, as required by security precautions. This was not an ordinary village; it was a village that had been through war and unspeakable destruction just a few years prior.
As I walked back to the car, I reflected on what I had seen that day. I was an eyewitness of the ashes of burned houses, bullet holes in walls, the chaos of bombed out concrete roofs, and sorrowfully empty homes. But more than the physical damage, I had felt the brokenness of heart of a hurting people who feared that the world had forgotten them. It was in a remote part of the Middle East. Its population, once displaced, were returning to their homes and trying to rebuild their lives. There I was, a foreigner with a local team walking through these village streets, evaluating how my NGO relief and recovery program could do the greatest good to help this village.
My reflection was soon interrupted by two of my colleagues asking me to visit one more family living on the edge of the village. As we approached the family standing at the end of the road, their great physical needs were instantly apparent: sickness, homelessness, and poverty. But I could see that they were also suffering from the greatest poverty known to humankind - loss of hope. “These people seem to be in a situation out of reach of even my program to help them,” I thought to myself. “What can I possibly do for this family?”
Because of our own innate sense of justice, we want to alleviate the plight of the poor and suffering. In fact, just about every religious tradition has some kind of basis for charity towards the poor: whether it be the Jewish Torah’s teaching to give justice to the widow, the orphan, and the foreigner or the Islamic concept of giving to the poor, meant to bring healing in human relationships. [1] Giving in Buddhism lines up with the core concept of interdependence of all things, thus giving generosity a preeminent place as a virtue that inspires compassion for our common human connections. Indeed, we do not even require religious teaching to tell us that charity is important, that helping the poor brings a sense of fulfillment. There is a sense in all of us to do as the Hebrew prophet Micah says, “To act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” [2]
Christianity communicates this longing in the model prayer, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.” [3] The divine love, rooted in the heart of God, that Christians must reflect into the world is the ultimate resting place of faith that leads to the ultimate purpose and greatest good of a Christian’s life. Early in Church history, “Christians believed that the motivation for charity should be God’s self-giving love. The Greek word for love/charity is “agape”, a word denoting an unconditional, sacrificing love that God epitomizes.” [4] Early Christians embodied this by intentionally loving the slaves, women, orphans, and infirm living in the margins of Roman society. In the Bible, Jesus sets a standard of charity by expounding on the “Greatest Commandments.” The Greatest Commandment calls us to love God with our whole being: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” The second commandment says, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” [5] Jesus extends that love for neighbor to an even greater love and says, “Love one another, as I have loved you, so you must love one another.” [6] There is a clear connection between divine love and what love looks like for our fellow humankind, an imitation of the sacrificial love of Jesus’ death for all on the cross being the standard of Christian love for others. The ultimate motivation of our love and charity for others is to pursue the same beating heart of love and delight that God has for His Creation.
For me, it was that day in that war-scarred village, meeting that family in the street, when I realized that God’s heart for the hurting is not a humanitarian or ministry service program, a level of intelligence, or a super-power on my part. My perception going into humanitarian work was that I would be the one to “help the poor” and be in a position to solve the problems of others. Situations like this were about to transform my perception of what God really wanted to teach me. As the father of the family handed me a large stack of doctor’s notes and explained his family’s problems to me, I realized there was nothing I could do. My voice choked up with emotions when I tried, unsuccessfully, to even speak. However, I stayed. I listened. I was present. Something deep inside of me was moved with compassion for this man and his eight children as they all stared at me and my colleagues, waiting for answers and assurance of help in our next visit to the village. Thankfully, my team was able to provide assistance to the family in the following weeks, but as I got in the car and went home, I couldn’t help but wonder at this deeper glimpse I had seen of God’s character.
Later that week, a colleague shared a Bible verse from the Book of Psalms that reminded me of that encounter. The passage read “The LORD is near to the broken-hearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” [7] As I looked at those beautifully comforting words, I had an epiphany. I reflected that if God is near to the broken-hearted, then when I was listening to and being present with the broken and crushed, I was closer to God’s heart for His Creation. That deep sense of connection with people from a vastly different culture, in a remote location that most people will never visit, was a divine love. In that nexus of time and space, I was there, witnessing a glimpse of God’s heart of love for the broken-hearted. Discovering this heart of God usually happens through our life experiences, both our successes and shortcomings.
I find myself these days in a very different location but living with the same truths. In graduate school at Cornell University, I spend my days in the labs and libraries in my global development program, seeking answers to how I can do something greater for families like the one I met. I dream of a world where there is flourishing and peace, and where children can thrive in safety. But some days, I become lost in thought, reflecting on what I read on a banner next to Bailey Hall every day on my way to class: “Cornellians are united by a common purpose, to do the greatest good.” [8] Ezra Cornell’s desire to use his wealth to establish such an excellent university was a very good thing, and all Cornellians are grateful for this wonderful university we are blessed to call home. But what I puzzle over is how we think we must position ourselves “to do the greatest good.”
As I ponder and make my way past the Ag Quad towards Mann library, I pass the Tsujimoto Family Plaza, and am challenged by the example of Josh (‘49) and Harry (‘51) Tsujimoto. [9] These two sons of Japanese-American immigrants overcame the injustices of an American internment camp to become Cornell alumni and lived lives of service through important agricultural research and global agricultural missions. They now generously give back to Cornell University’s Global Development Department to continue shaping students who will serve their fellow humanity in the margins of the world through their professions.
To do the greatest good, perhaps our natural Cornell perception is to be at the center of power and influence. We Cornellians are told “Excel, lead student groups, study hard, graduate, make lots of money, become well-known in high places, and build a good life for yourself.” I frequently hear both inside and outside of the university about how “brilliant and full of potential” Cornell students are, and “oh, you are going to an Ivy League, you are set up for life.” But think for a moment, what if the greatest good is found in the margins, and not in the mainstream center of what our culture tells us is the “good life?” It is good to pursue excellence, and our ambition can carry us to do a lot of good in the world. But our ambition can become selfish if we use our opportunities at Cornell to live only for ourselves. We need to think deeply about who the greatest good is for.
Doing the greatest good is not tied to a specific location, career, or major. Indeed, one can do great good in “any field of study,” as Ezra Cornell stated when founding Cornell University. I believe that the greatest good is more about heart posture and motive. Are our pursuits for the greatest good for ourselves? Are they for our comfort, our pride, and our desire to be famous, respected or perceived as successful by others? Or do we want to do the greatest good for the honor of our Creator God, who gave us the talents and the opportunity to be at Cornell? Imagine if we viewed our Cornell education of “setting us up for life” as using whatever major or career He has given us for God’s purposes. The “good life” we seek is a heart posture aligned with God’s desire to grace the broken and crushed who live in the margins of our world with the greatest goodness of His heart.
And finally, let us not limit ourselves to considering our careers after Cornell, but let us also live in the moment today. We have broken-hearted people around us every day at Cornell. Do we dismiss our classmate who is depressed and contemplates taking their own life? Or does our heart rush to be an instrument of the divine love that “saves the crushed in spirit?” What goes through our minds when we find ourselves at the homeless encampment behind the Ithaca Walmart? Do we believe the truth that God’s heart is near and present there? When we seize the extraordinary, door-opening opportunities Cornell offers us, like spending a summer in New York City for an internship or venturing around the world for a study abroad program, are we willing to open our eyes and see that God longs for us to step out into the margins of a broken world and draw near to His heart?
Sources
[1] Levenson, Jon, Dudley, Rose, Jocelyne, Cesari, Berlin, Chris, Harpreet, Singh, “Why Give? Religious Roots of Charity” Harvard Divinity School 2018 26-Nov-2018 (27-October-2024) https://news-archive.hds.harvard.edu/news/2013/12/13/why-give-religious-roots-charity
[2] Micah 6:8 (NIV)
[3] Matthew 6:10 (KJV)
[4] Ferngren, Gary “Demonstrating the Love of Christ” Christian History Institute, 2020 (28-October-2024) https://christianhistoryinstitute.org/magazine/article/demonstrating-the-love-of-christ-135
[5] Matthew 22:37 (ESV)
[6] John 13:34 (NIV)
[7] Psalm 34:18 (ESV)
[8] “To Do the Greatest Good” Campaign, Cornell University https://greatestgood.cornell.edu/
[9] Gashler, Kristy “Brother Alums who Triumphed Over Tragedy Honored With Scholarship” Cornell Chronicle 14-December-2021 https://news.cornell.edu/stories/2021/12/brother-alums-who-triumphed-over-tragedy-honored-scholarship