The First Few Drops

Matthew's post is part of our Lenten Water Project. Throughout this Lenten season our writers will be focusing on the subject of water and what that means to them. Please donate to our well-building efforts, and if you have something YOU would like to say about water, let us know and we'll post it here!

The steady hum and rattle of the diesel engine powering the drill echoed throughout the property, as the cold water from the rain collection tower poured over my head, washing the soap down to the drain. It struck me for the first time in that moment, showering in the middle of the plantain field under the water tower, what a huge moment had taken place the day before as the drilling truck pulled onto the property. Hope had come on the back of the truck, the opportunity for clean drinking water for those in Quimistan, Honduras, who had previously filled their buckets in nearby rivers and streams, or had to buy clean and safe bottled water. With this well came the promise of clean water, that didn’t cost hard earned wages. With this well came the promise of piping water into the medical clinic and Church community kitchen, to better serve those in the community. Yes, with the arrival of the drilling truck, this community had just been transformed in many ways.

I was involved in their first water project with the church in Quimistan, Hondruas, and it wasn’t entirely on purpose. You need to know that I do not have a scientific or engineering background, but rather had a small request to help get the final piece of the water project together. The final meeting with the drilling company and subsequent arrival of the drilling truck was the result of years of meetings between Church and community leaders with the drilling company. I was merely one of the last people, in the long line of those before me who helped get the drilling truck to the property that day. So as the drill hit water after hours of drilling that first day, I felt like my work was insignificant compared to those who had worked years on making this day happen. Though, that did not keep me from celebrating with the people gathered waiting for those first drops to hit the ground.

As the water began to pour from the ground and flood the property the community celebrated! It was an exciting moment, and a moment that I will never forget. I hope that through the water campaign we have embarked on, we can join those communities around the world, as they stand in anticipation waiting for water to flood from the earth. I pray for those who live amid the drought and scarcity of this world, and I pray that in the midst of my flooded life that I will seek ways to be a better brother in Christ to all. Even when we feel that our work is insignificant, let us press on, following into all the places and times that God is leading us. Often times we are just one person in the long line of many who have gone before us and will come after us, but what legacy will we leave? In a world in which "first" are few and far between, it is amazing to think that some communities around the world are yet to receive their first well, and first drops of clean water. What is our responsibility to those communities and to those people?

In this season of lent, as we reflect, pray, and discern, let us be ever present to what God is doing among us. Let us recognize that it's not the first time God has called or will call. Let us be a people who respond.

Today's article is based on my time reflecting this past week, on my trip to Quimistan, Honduras in 2006.

A Thirsty Lent

Jessica's post is part of our Lenten Water Project. Throughout this Lenten season our writers will be focusing on the subject of water and what that means to them. Please donate to our well-building efforts, and if you have something YOU would like to say about water, let us know and we'll post it here!

Since I was a little girl I have entered church with the same ritual, dipping the tips of my fingers into a tiny metal bowl of holy water near the heavy wooden door of the sanctuary. I tap these wet fingers on my forehead, on the center of my chest, and on both shoulders; it is the sign of the cross. This practice, inherited from my Catholic tradition, reconnects me with the first Christian ritual I ever experienced—baptism.

It also engages the natural substance—water—that pervaded Jesus’ life. Jesus was baptized in water. Christ used it for miracles, using it for winemaking and walking on its waves. Jesus taught about living water.

Water is ubiquitous in my life and the Christian tradition, which is precisely why I find the season of Lent so startling. When I enter a Catholic sanctuary to pray or attend Sunday liturgy, I instinctively place my fingers into the tiny water bowl only to find it empty. Dry. During this forty-day liturgical season, the baptismal fount at the front of the church no longer hums with the trickle of clear, blessed water. It, too, is empty.

This is how we prepare for the annual remembrance of Christ’s suffering passion: we experience a little bit of life without the water that we take for granted most of the time. That way, come Easter Sunday when the baptismal founts are flowing and my finger tips are wet with Holy Water once again, I rejoice in the resurrection and the Water of Life with new gratitude.

When was the last time you were thirsty?

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Jessica Coblentz is currently pursuing a Master of Theological Studies degree at Harvard Divinity School. Her interests include Catholic theology, religious and cultural identity, and ritual studies. Follow her writing on the Web at www.jessicacoblentz.com.

The God Who Drank

Katherine's post is part of our Lenten Water Project. Throughout this Lenten season our writers will be focusing on the subject of water and what that means to them. Please donate to our well-building efforts, and if you have something YOU would like to say about water, let us know and we'll post it here!

I sat on the bouncing bus, feeling so woozy that my brain seemed to be several feet above me and so nauseated that my stomach seemed to be…well…everywhere. 12,000 feet up on a winding Andean road, I sat grasping the little white altitude sickness pill in my trembling hand, wishing desperately that I could take it.

But I couldn’t, because I had no water.

On this long, rural road, there were few places to purchase water. Where it was available, stacked crowdedly in tiny, gated tiendas beside the road, or draped over the shoulders of traveling salesmen yelling “agua, agua!” it was impossible to know if it had been drawn from local faucets, containing parasites and bacteria that my unaccustomed gringa stomach could not tolerate.

Unlike the 1 in 8 people on the planet that drink dirty, unsafe water every day, me having nothing to drink was entirely my fault. I was thirsty, achy, trembling, dehydrated and sick because I had been stupid to take safe, accessible water for granted, to assume it would be available somewhere along the road, instead of buying it in a grocery store or larger tienda, where the water for sale is purified.

In the end, my stupidity cost me nothing other than an uncomfortable ride back to the capital city. I could chose, young and healthy that I was, to avoid drinking unsafe water. I did not have to choose between a certain death of thirst that day or a probable threat of death due to waterborne disease the day after, which of course is not a choice at all. But millions of people are forced to make this non-choice of a choice every day.

No one should ever be forced to drink water that kills. We serve the God of who offers us living water, who cried wearily for a drink as he fought for his last breaths. How then, can we let others go thirsty?

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Katherine Pater is a recovering Irish dance instructor from Wisconsin. She is currently a first-year Master of Divinity Student at Harvard Divinity School who is pursuing ordination in the PC(USA) denomination.

Announcement! Lenten "charity:water" project!

In the days and weeks after the Haiti earthquake, the Church is ALIVE team - like so many others around the world - watched in horror as images of destruction flooded our television and computer screens. Feelings of hurt, sadness, and helplessness filled us as we were reminded of the great need in our world each day of the week, let alone when a natural disaster strikes. As a team we donated and prayed - and continue to do so - but we felt that we should be doing more. This led us to conversations about mission, and ultimately to ideas of partnering with an organization so as to raise awareness and live into the call to help our sisters and brothers in Christ. That is, we sought to break out of our shells of apathy and take action.

Thus, we chose to launch a “water campaign” at the beginning of lent. We do this because instead of giving something up, we wanted to add something to both our lives and our world. There is something so somber and real about the Ash Wednesday services we attended today; something very poetic - very soul filled - to be reminded that our lives will come to an end and to dust we will return. We believe that the charity:water initiative - the organization we have chosen to work with - reminds us of this message. After celebrating Fat Tuesday (in which we gorge ourselves on pancakes and whatever else we will soon be giving up during the season of lent) we gather on Ash Wednesday as a community of faith that marches together into the reflection, confession and prayer of this season. As we walk away from the music and celebration that is Fat Tuesday, we walk into the silence and quiet of Lent.



Again, we as a Church is ALIVE team want to begin this Lenten season by adding something to our lives and to the lives of other. We are reminded in the stillness and silence of Lent that many of the world's needs fall on deaf ears, and those who suffer in this world do so in silence, despite lacking in food, medical care, and water. We posit that we cannot be a people of faith who stand on the sidelines and watch helplessly. We are called to take action and care for our sisters and brothers in Christ.

Thus, we seek to raise money to build a well somewhere in the world. Right now, almost a billion people on the planet don't have access to clean, safe drinking water. That's one in eight of us. charity: water is a non-profit organization bringing clean drinking water to people who go without. We give 100% of the money raised to direct project costs, funding sustainable clean water solutions in areas of greatest need. Just $20 can give one person in a developing nation clean water for 20 years. A single well can provide an entire community with clean water for 50 years.

We have set up a charity: water campaign page to help raise money to build a well that will provide a community with water! We recognize there is a great need for water throughout the planet, and we will leave the "where" of the well-building to the professionals of charity: water.

So - we ask that you go to our charity: water page and donate! Give up your birthday, get people to sponsor the miles you run, sell lemonade, do something! Get your friends involved, your youth group, your Church, and your family! Together we - as a community and a church - can do make a difference!

Check out our profile: http://www.mycharitywater.org/churchisalive

We are excited about this project, and we are excited to see people come together to make this happen. If you have any questions ask them in the comments section below this post, we will respond to all of them!

In order to get the message out, we ask that you change your Facebook statuses to, "Help build a well - thechurchisalive.com!"

The Church is ALIVE in mission!

Reaching Out Where You Can (Even With Pancakes)

For four months out of the year, I have the opportunity to attend church six days a week, take communion every Sunday and Thursday, and meet some of the most inspiring ministers in the PC(USA). I work year-round at Montreat Conference Center (come say hello!), and some really cool stuff happens here.

A few times per year, the Assembly Inn invites the public to a free pancake breakfast. It's a great opportunity to connect with members of the local community, and donations support a great cause: the Employee Assistance Fund, which provides financial support to members of our staff in financial or medical crisis. This past Thursday, the staff of Montreat Conference Center decided to take contributions for the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance effort in Haiti instead of the EAF.

I thought it was a wonderful gesture of missional outreach. I mean, we're usually the ones asking for money.

Mission. Always one of my favorite things done at my home church growing up. The opportunity to support those with less, often finding they were able to give back with glowing personalities, wonderful stories, and heartfelt thanks. It's a two-way street, and you often get more out of it than you were expecting. To me, it's soul satisfaction.

So I humbly encourage you to discover what kinds of mission opportunities there are in your community, your country, and the world, faith-based or not. We might be able to help you with that last one pretty soon... In the words of the rapper MURS,

"If you leave the world a better place than it was when you got here,then we all win"

[end note] I totally credit my good friend Jack Jenkins with introducing me to MURS. It's also his birthday today, so if you're his Facebook friend, you should totally utilize that poke feature all day long. (He's the first search result for "Jack Jenkins")

2.17.10

Major Announcement coming in 5 Days! www.thechurchisalive.com

An Unlikely Path

Much has been written, produced, filmed, and recorded about New Orleans and the Saints over the past fourteen days. Seeing the images of the flooded city, brought back a rush of memories for me. Until moving to Atlanta four years ago, I had spent more time in New Orleans than any other major U.S. City. Needless to say, New Orleans was and is a special place to me. After seeing and experiencing all the images in the build up to the Super Bowl, I went back to my journal and re-read my entry from December 17, 2005, the first time I went back to the city after Katrina. In the midst of the excitement of a Super Bowl win, I offer this reflection of that car ride into the destructed city, on December 17, 2005:

Silence falls over the car fifteen miles outside of New Orleans as we begin to count the blue tarps that cover rooftops of homes; the marking signs that FEMA had been there to repair roofs, and checked off each home surrounding New Orleans. As the van makes its way closer to the heart of the city we see that a majority of the power has yet to be restored, and in every sense of the word it is a ghost town. Billboards split in two, restaurant signs blown to pieces, cars turned over, walls on one Sam’s Club blown completely off, and homes destroyed. The homes, the one thing that we all connected to, the reason that we felt the call to New Orleans. Homes where families were born, raised, the first Christmas’s, Thanksgiving’s, Birthday’s, and the countless other memories that we cherish about our own homes. The homes that made up the communities that were now displaced, and from all outward appearances “washed away”. The sinking feeling in the heart and the aching in the stomach were all signs that pointed us that we were indeed in the middle of the destruction and exactly where we were called to be.
The van continued to make its way into downtown, more of the same, no power for miles with the exception of one or two lights sprinkled here and there, as if the last signs that there was power there to begin with. The flood of emotions and memories of the images that flooded our television screens, the internet, and magazines came to mind. The streets we were now driving covered in eight to twelve feet of water at one time. It’s hard not to envision what it must have been like a mere two months prior to us driving that day. People swimming, clutching to whatever they could find that would float. These are all images that we are familiar with. They were the images that we clung to in the days and weeks after what has been called the worst natural disaster in U.S. history. It’s hard to put into words what it felt like that night. Yes it was devastating, but we were there for bigger reasons than flooded houses, broken signs, ruined stores, and rusted cars; you see we were there to be in relationship with each other and the people that made these places home. Otherwise these were just houses, stores, wood, nails, and cement. So many people have asked where was God in the storm? How could this happen? As we addressed many of these questions throughout the week we quickly understood that God was there, in the rebuilding process. God was there in the community that was taking place in the destruction of houses, but in the rebuilding of relationships, that were broken long before the hurricane. Our eyes were open to the community that we are called to live in each and every day of our lives.


A lot has changed in New Orleans since the flood and the city in many ways will never be the same, but the spirit of that place lives on. New Orleans is a place like no other. I cherish my time there, and the relationships that have come from that city. The spirit of that city lives on, and now with a Super Bowl trophy.