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I have read of poverty, depicted it, and even tried to help it but realize now that I had never actually felt it. National Geographic, Invisible Children, and your Sunday night missionary can't tell the story appropriately. No words can describe the immensity, destruction, disease, grime, sludge, and inhumanity of the truly impoverished.

I'll never forget the day we went to see the slums in the Philippines. We jumped in the car with Pastor Boyete who pastors in the slums of the Manila region and he took us on a small winding road 10 miles north of the city. We ended in the small city of Payatas, also termed "Smokey Mountain" for the clouds of acidic smoke that drift off its peak. It's a city of shacks set amidst the mountain of trash that exits metro Manila each day. In this trash thousands rummage for lunch, dinner, and items to sell.

As we turned down the ever narrowing dirt streets I felt my stomach go weak. I swallowed hard as we drove by a monument where the trash mountain had collapsed in 2001 killing 1000 people. Their bodies remain to this day, buried only feet from where their families still live. The families are unable to move from the horror and perilous hill that took the lives of their loved ones. When the car could no longer handle the road conditions we parked under some hanging palm trees and continued on foot into the smoke, haze, and trash filled pathways. Lined with sewage and dead animals there was an inescapable stench that crept down off the mountain... a kind of burning bile torched through your nose and mouth keeping you breathless as you plodded through the swarms of flies (pic above).

We entered the city gates reminiscent of an Indian Jones movie. Above us hung the looming mountain of trash and around us ran children (pics under our profile on homepage). These dirty and sometimes naked children peaked out of small sheds, shanties, and bushes. Some of them sat alone and forlorn on the side of the path while some played basketball with a hoop formed of sticks and chicken wire. We were quickly told that many of the youngest children are sold daily for sex acts. Current Smokey Mountain rate for sex acts with a 2 year old is 1000 pesos ($10)... abhorrent.

As we rounded a corner and stepped over a few chickens we ran into Rose. Rose is one of the original members of the small church of Payatas and is married to a man who works at one of the food stands and is a former drug addict. They have two children and live in a one room concrete structure that measures about the width of your outstretched arms. Rose quickly and graciously introduced us to her friends and they invited us to share their breakfast of raw, fly infested, sliced fish. They then excitedly explained that they were working on expanding their weekly bible study for women... I looked over and my wife had tears streaming down her face. Rose had nothing, yet she cared that the others grow closer to Jesus.

After meeting a few more locals of Smokey Mountain we had the chance to see Pastor Boyete's church. A concrete slab that runs 40 feet by 40 feet covered by aluminum siding. Inside he boasted of their new plastic patio chairs which the recent special offering had provided along with their newest music addition, a drum kit left recently in the trash. Off to the left sat his residence. It was a small wood shanty with two windows and about 400 sq. feet of living space.

I must tell you that the moments I spent standing in that small building with Pastor were moments that I will take with me for a lifetime. You see Pastor Boyete wasn't raised in Payatas he chose to minister there. He had a life in metro Manila, has friends in America, and used to be in government work but now chooses to live in a landfill. Hearing about what that man had endured to share the gospel, how he lived to show love, and how he smiled despite circumstances proved for me that contentment comes from God alone and not monetary resources. He was not an outside missionary doing work and then returning for vacation, he was a man who lived in the ravages of this destitute land because he loved the people. Before we left he hugged me, looked up, up and said "The air is bad here Pastor Tony, this means that I won't be around long...it's important that I raise up the youngsters to take my place and lead the ministry forward."

It was hours later that the comment made sense to me. Pastor Boyete was aware that the water, the air, and the disease were shortening his life but he felt God's call and he serves anyway.

Pastor Boyete is one of my heroes. A man who exemplifies Christ and is "generating" hope.

Generate Revival

1 comment | posted Feb 4

I have been spending a lot of time praying over the core values of our new Generate service which launches Feb. 20th and I hope to share a few of these Wednesday night. The one that sticks with me, however, above all others is the idea of 2nd chances. In the bible and in our life most anyone who did something great would have no worth if they hadn't been provided a 2nd chance. Think about the failures of biblical characters, our own president's, converted pastors, and comeback athletes. Even when we watch ER, a love movie, or Spiderman movie we always know that the star will survive, regain his strength, or be revived because great failure equals great victory. My hope is that Generate will be a place where people come to be revived and take advantage of their 2nd chance. In short, a place where people can admit their failure, start over, and begin living the life God has called them to... a life not of perfection but of definite progression.