Where Have You Been?
I recently listened to the excellent book The Rent Collector, a
novel about a family in Cambodia who live at the capital city’s garbage dump along
with hundreds of others. The family that
the book is based on are real people, and the novel was inspired by the
documentary River of Victory about
these people that lived at the Cambodian dump.
This weekend I watched the film with my family and was humbled to see
the kind of conditions that they live in.
The American man who filmed the documentary, Trevor Wright, clearly got
to know well the main family in the documentary and became a close friend. The mother is named Sang Ly, and after the
documentary a short follow-up film shows Trevor returning with his dad (who was
also the author of the book) to Cambodia to find Sang Ly four years after their
initial meeting. The footage of their
initial encounter with Sang Ly in that visit was moving and gives cause for
reflection to us that have so much. She
was clearly happy to see him, but she also said to him, “I’m mad. I’m not doing
well. Where have you been?” She explained, “You used to come and see me
so often… and now when things are so hard for us you haven’t come to see us at
all.” She and her husband were even
worse off economically than they had been before, they were about to get kicked
out of their “home” again, and she had recently tried to commit suicide. That it took Trevor four years to get back to
see her is completely understandable—and the fact that he went back at all
shows the love he had for her and this people.
But seeing the encounter made me wonder if any of those I have at some
point in my life been friends with or helped or come to love would say the same
thing to me. How many of those I could perhaps
lift or reach out to do I fail to remember?
The
scriptural phrase that comes to mind is one from Amos, who chastised the people
of Israel saying that they “lie upon beds of ivory, and stretch themselves upon
their couches, and eat the lambs out of the flock, … drink wine in bowls, and
anoint themselves with the chief ointments: but they are not grieved for the
affliction of Joseph” (Amos 6:4, 6). In
other words, they lived in their comfort and ease and would not help the poor
and afflicted around them. It is easy to
be comfortable in our “beds of ivory” and fail to search out ways to help those
in desperate need. The parable of the
rich man who “was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every
day” is a sobering one to those who similarly are clothed well and eat well
every day. This unnamed man failed to help
the beggar Lazarus who sat at his gate, and eventually Lazarus died and was
taken to “Abraham’s bosom.” The rich man
then died and went to hell, with Abraham saying to him, “Son, remember that
thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things” (Luke 16:19-25). It’s as if Abraham was telling him, “Well,
you got to choose whether you wanted a temporary reward in mortality or an eternal
reward thereafter, and you chose the former.”
As Jesus would say, “they have their reward” in this life, but He admonished
His followers to seek the “riches of eternity” instead of those of the earth (Matt.
6:2, D&C 68:31).
After
speaking about the pioneers and those who were physically rescued from
starvation and freezing on the plains, President
Hinckley said, “There are so many who are hungry and destitute across this
world who need help. I am grateful to be able to say that we are assisting many
who are not of our faith but whose needs are serious and whom we have the
resources to help. But we need not go so far afield. We have some of our own
who cry out in pain and suffering and loneliness and fear. Ours is a great and
solemn duty to reach out and help them, to lift them, to feed them if they are
hungry, to nurture their spirits if they thirst for truth and righteousness.” As Christians our task is to find ways to
help and lift all who are around us, and hopefully we can do so before in their
suffering they say to us, “Where have you been?”
Comments
Post a Comment
Comments: