Life under a curse

There was a neighbour who used to wolf-whistle at me when I went out running in the early morning. Last night he was murdered. The family reckoned he had been cursed as he suffered from a psychiatric disorder which when combined with marihuana or the full moon made him uncontrollable. He was well built, in his mid-20s and had been stealing from another barrio. Two teenagers from there came and killed him: a life is valued at the cost of a few trinkets.

The Seminary’s immediate neighbourhood is one big interconnected family and some of them come to the sewing room. They reckon the only person that’s sorry about his death is his granny. There’s no notion of his importance as a human being in the image of God.

Today in the class we examined the Spanish Conquistadors treatment of the Indians in the name of Christianity. They too were sold for trinkets and killed like soul-less rats.

How powerful are James’ words about genuine Christian faith resulting in doing good. It’s not much, but the sewing room tries to show this to local families, and to others through YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/user/0stresscolombia


Photo: Local people at a sewing room meal

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