Coffins

I’m in the business of Global Transformation. I don’t necessarily like the negative connotation that goes along with the label of “non-profit” if that includes getting by with doing things in a secondary manner or living with second-class results. There is a whole world of the social sector conscience presently marching under the banner of “goodness.” These agents of change are creative, tenacious individuals with unshakable motivation, and they are desperately needed to propel the innovation necessary for our civilization to tackle our most serious ills. 

It has become quite obvious that the needs are not going to be met by the paralytic hands of world governments. And, sad to say, many religious denominations and organizations have become as stymied by institutionalization and lockstep tradition as the most inadequate government. But the people who are becoming involved in this push for global transformation are setting aside visions of personal financial accumulation and the narcissistic lifestyles in order to experience the excitement of genuine worth-building adventures. 

If there is a perfect antithesis to the terrorist’s impulse it is this swelling surge of the new global transformers bent on making this needy world better off through the power of goodness. They demonstrate the power of building things up and making things better off instead of blowing them apart! And they are addressing many of the underlying causes of today’s global instability like: sickness, causes of poverty, and lack of education. 

I take courage and personal confidence in the fact that throughout history when the powers of evil and ignorance seem to be gaining an upper hand there are those dedicated and compassionate people who step forward and receive their marching orders to become agents of global transformation and never blink an eye at the cost that will be exacted from them. 

While traveling through the war-torn countries of Congo and Angola I was reminded of the price that had been paid by global transformers of past generations. Our Cessna 208 circled over the huts along the Songolo River. As we landed on the grassy runway of Kajiji, the villagers ran out to greet us. The entire school of nurses showed up in their pink and white uniforms and starched white caps. As we unloaded the medical supplies from Project C.U.R.E., the native chorus began singing. 

I was led to the hospital compound and a stately old stone house with a picturesque veranda that overlooked the river and south toward the hazy distant valley. While being served a lunch of bananas, rice, goat meat and bread made from manioc plant, my hosts related to me how in the early 1900s the people of the whole central African area were dying by the thousands. Then some people from England and America started coming, promising to help them get better. They were global transformers with incredible love and compassion. They were called Presbyterians and they accepted applications from people to go to the Kajiji area to see if they could discover the reason for the pandemic. The average stay of the young Brits and Americans was 11 months! They came to Africa, trying to discover as much as they could. They journalized carefully what they had discovered, sent the information back home, then succumbed to the illnesses themselves. Another wave of brave global transformers would come to take their places. Part of the agreement in order to go to Kajiji was to pack all their belongings in a wooden coffin when they traveled to Africa so that there would be a convenient way to ship their bodies back home for burial. 

I probably won’t be required to pay such a price for my involvement as a cultural transformer, but I am proud to be included in the growing, compassionate army of wonderful and brave people who stand undaunted by risk or resistance when it comes to helping needy people all over this world become better off.