Author: tommestevenson@gmail.com

I have been thinking about this for some time. I’m trying to figure out what to say and how to say it. I have seen firsthand the plight of the 40% of the world’s population that lives on less than two dollars a day. I have looked into their eyes, I have seen how they live. My focus has been on these people called The Majority World (Africa, Asia, and Latin America). God has given me a skill set, knowledge, and experience that He wants me to use to help these people in any little way I can. Today I look in the opposite direction. I’m looking at one of the most prosperous nation in the world.

Lamentations 3:19-25, “Remember my suffering and my aimless wandering, the wormwood and poison. My soul continues to remember these things and is so discouraged. “The reason I can still find hope is that I keep this one thing in mind: the Lord’s mercy. We were not completely wiped out. His compassion is never limited. It is new every morning. His faithfulness is great. My soul can say, ‘The Lord is my lot in life. That is why I find hope in him.’ The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to anyone who seeks help from him.”

The story I want to tell today is not about The Majority World, in a small way it is. I was raised in the Midwest in a small farm community. Even though I have spent most of my life away from my childhood home, I still identify it as my home. I have returned twice a year, almost every year for a half-century. I have a vision infused deep within my brain of idyllic small-town America. It fosters a feeling of fondness, wholesomeness, and community that comforts me. This year as I sat in the park, listening to a local rock band sponsored by the City for “Fun Days,” I suddenly realized I was wrong.

THE GROWTH OF A COMMUNITY

First, let me tell you a little history of my home town. My hometown was established in 1836. A gristmill was built because the nearby river had a 15-foot waterfall that provided hydropower. The Illinois and Michigan Canal was to be constructed nearby to provide transportation. Unfortunately, the depression of 1837 bankrupt the state government, and construction on the canal stopped until 1848. The railroad arrived about 1850, becoming the preferred mode of transportation. The great news for my hometown is that industry grew with the hydropower and advent of the railroad. By the 1880s, raceways were built to provide mechanical power to the growing industry sector. By 1911 the raceway helped provide electrical power to the City. My hometown was one of the first to have electric trollies. Growing up, I still remember the rail tracks embedded in the streets from the trolley. Unfortunately, the trolley system went out of service during the Great Depression.

By the early 1900s, an eight-story Carton Factory was built provided ample employment for the City. Today that brooding brick building still towers over Main Street. It became the lifeblood of the community. It operated until 1960. The Federal Government finished Interstate Highway 80 just ten miles north of town in 1967, forever changing the traffic pattern away from my hometown. The power plant that used to power the Carton Factory, and my hometown stopped producing in 1989.

I was fortunate that I grew up in the ’50s and ’60’s when my hometown was called the City of Churches. It was a small town but economically healthy. To this day franchise systems bypass my hometown. All the drug stores, grocery stores, gas stations, restaurants, banks, hotels, news paper and even telephone company are local family-owned businesses. We were a community.

THE FALL OF MID AMERICA

I should have noticed it. I should have picked up on the clue when the city motto was changed to the City by the River. I should have seen it when the Carton Factory closed, then the power plant, then the High School, and finally two of the three grade schools. But I didn’t. It was still the small town I grew up in and loved.

I didn’t notice that 100% of the students were now on the free lunch program. I didn’t notice that the shops along Main Street were now bars and Slot Machine Outlets. I didn’t notice that the once vibrant three story hotel on Main Street was now a flophouse for the down and out. I didn’t live there, so I didn’t notice that unemployment was a way of life; Welfare, Unemployment, Food Stamps were lifelines. People didn’t have careers or professions; they had a series of disassociated jobs, mostly at minimum wage. They worked off the books because it wouldn’t reduce their benefits. Working at $5.00 an hour tax-free was better than minimum wage at a burger joint.

That night in the park, what I did notice was a lack of hope. A dark future permeated everyone in the park. Even those with steady jobs felt the pain of their friends and relatives. The City was surviving but on life support. Without government programs, the City would dry up and blow away. Instead, the residence now made life livable with alcohol and more potent stimulants.  I couldn’t help but think of the kids. What was their future? Would they slowly die from inside like the rest of the City?

The decay of small towns is happening all across America. Of the 19,000 incorporated cities in the United States, over 16,000 have a population under 10,000 people.

MY LAMENT

I guess what makes this story hard is that I have no answers. There are four levels of poverty; spiritual, being, relational, and material. Politicians and governments concentrate on material poverty because it is easy to see and measure. They throw money and programs at the result of poverty, not the source. The foundation to recovering from material poverty is to overcome spiritual poverty. In Christ, there is both a hope for the future and a prescription for achieving that hope. With faith in God’s promise through Christ we start to better understand our true worth. We also start to understand the importance of not only lifting ourselves, but those around us. Finally, we create a material environment that sustains our purpose. With Christ-centered hope, anything can be accomplished; people fall back on old habits without it. Generational, systematic, cultural poverty was not created in a generation and will not be overcome in a generation.  Without schools, there will be no jobs, and without jobs, there is no need for schooling. Without hope, no-one cares.

It is a lament. I have no answers; I can only pray and serve. The results belong to God.

Isaiah 40:28-31, “Don’t you know? Haven’t you heard? The eternal God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, doesn’t grow tired or become weary. His understanding is beyond reach. He gives strength to those who grow tired and increases the strength of those who are weak. Even young people grow tired and become weary, and young men will stumble and fall. Yet, the strength of those who wait with hope in the Lord will be renewed. They will soar on wings like eagles. They will run and won’t become weary. They will walk and won’t grow tired.”

There is a great book discussing the complexity of poverty entitled “When Helping Hurts.” By Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert.