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| Here's one of my students, holding up a child who came to VBS |
I love what Laura Hillenbrand writes about dignity in her 2010 novel Unbroken. She records the true story of WWII airman Louis Zamperini. Zamperini is not just a fighter, but also a survivor. He faced it all, including being adrift in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for 47 days in shark infested waters, warding off the open fire of enemy planes. Having survived both the Pacific and earlier missions, you’d think he’d experienced the worst that life had to offer. He soon realized that it could get a lot worse, for what he was about to experience, made him long for the raft.
What did Zamperini experience? The loss of his dignity. That’s right: dignity. Having been picked up by the enemy, he became a prisoner of war. Their strategy was to dehumanize him, treating him with no dignity. They spit on him, beat him, and did things that are too gruesome to recount here. They treated him worse than an animal.
Quite perceptively, Hillenbrand notes that humans have basic needs in order to survive, things like food, water, oxygen—and dignity. Dignity is as essential to human survival as oxygen. Without it, we perish; with it, we can survive. So long as we have dignity, then we can fight; but without a sense of worth, we’ll give up. Nothing made Zamperini contemplate suicide more than the loss of his dignity.
Why do I say all of this? Because today, I saw our group give this vital life ingredient to others. Lest you think I’m being overly dramatic, then think about what it’s like to live in inner city poverty as a child, where you’re mostly seen as a drain, rather than a blessing. Think about the broken people who surround you in the city, who burn all of their energy just trying to survive, whose lives are often marked by dysfunction, leaving them with little time to invest in the next generation. Think about being a refugee, having fled your country in order to find life in the US . Now what? Think about your family being raided by unexpected disease, financial hardship, or a wound inflicted by another. You didn’t ask for it, but now you’re dealing with it.
And so are your kids.
They get to watch mom or dad fight a seemingly losing battle, day after day, year after year. Hardly anyone is glad to see them. These kids don’t get sent away to expensive camps, amusement parks, or family vacations. Their summers are filled with nothing but heat and trauma.
In fact, as we were told, the highlight of their year is when Payne Avenue Church
But it goes beyond the fun and programming. It’s much deeper than that. I realized this as the neighborhood kids began pouring in off the streets for day number three of VBS. Unprompted by me, my team began running to them, greeting them with hugs and smiles, even before the kids got to the door. One of my students basically tackled an older child with excitement, holding her as they laughed together, looking forward to a night together.
When was the last time any of these kids were greeted like that? When was the last time someone was excited to see them? When was the last time each of these children received such dignity?
Showing joy when seeing another person is one of the most profound things that you can do for him or her. Tripping over your own feet and bursting with a smile does a lot to undo whatever wounds have been inflicted earlier by life that day. Being excited to see someone is a gift, more precious than just about anything else. It helps that person to remember, though maybe they have forgotten, that they are one of God’s special creations, having intrinsic beauty and worth.
And that’s what we tried to restore today.
—Sam Kee, North Suburban Church , Deerfield , IL
