The Case of the Vanishing Orphanage

“You are the first American group to ever visit our community.” Simon’s words sent chills through the missions team that had ventured to his remote Kenyan village. It was a risk to come to such an isolated place, but its undiscovered magnetism was also its allure. Their arrival was a momentous step in a long journey.

Several years earlier, Simon* met these Colorado church leaders at a John Piper conference. They had an immediate kinship. It was hard not to love Simon: He was eminently likeable, oozing charisma with each handshake and smile. Now in Kenya, after months of careful planning, they had finally arrived. As their bus labored up the dusty driveway, the orphanage they knew only by pictures came to life.

The orphanage looked like many like it in Africa: A fenced-in compound with simply-constructed dormitories and classrooms. The zenith of the complex wasn’t its buildings, however. It was the 200 smiling children which greeted the visitors with hoots of delight when their bus arrived. The trip unfolded in typical fashion. The Coloradans spent their days playing with orphans, seizing photo opps, and dreaming with Simon about ways their church could help the orphanage flourish.

"The Vanishing Orphanage"

 The trip rattled stereotypes and collided cultures. Simon orchestrated the trip with clockwork precision, his robust leadership skills firing on all cylinders throughout the week.  As the trip came to a close, the bus drove the team away.  The children chased their bus, wrenching the emotions of even the group’s most stoic members. Hearts full, the team flew home, now well-equipped to share their stories of helping orphaned children and exploring uncharted places.

Despite the many positive moments throughout the week, there were unnerving whisperings among the group. It was strange the teachers didn’t know many of the orphans’ names. It seemed overly-controlling when Simon prohibited them from visiting the neighboring village unaccompanied. Also odd, the orphanage lacked a garden, which is like an Alaskan lacking a snow shovel: The fertile soil can give anyone a green thumb. These quiet whisperings slowly unfolded into loud gasps, and then into protests, and then into many tears, when the group returned to visit Simon’s orphanage just one year later.

On their return trip—one which almost mirrored their previous trip—a team member, Dan, stayed around after the team departed for the States. On his own, Dan journeyed from the Nairobi airport back to the orphanage on a scout mission to investigate the team’s concerns. As he arrived in the village and walked toward the orphanage, a woman approached him, grabbed his arm, and amplified the whisperings.

“Just so you know,” she shared solemnly, “the orphanage is not real.”

Dan, panged with a haunting feeling of betrayal, trekked from the village to the orphanage, hoping to disprove her. He arrived at the place where he played with smiling children just one day earlier. His eyes confirmed the woman’s words: The place was deserted. The yard where the children used to run and play? Nothing remained apart from the lonely debris which bounced with the wind across the red clay earth. The sleeping quarters? Empty. The cafeteria? Vacant. No workers, no orphans, no supplies, no anything. The orphanage had vanished. It was all a mirage.

In truth, the Colorado church was not the first American group to visit Simon’s community. In fact, many churches from across the US and Canada were privy to Simon’s deceitful wooing over the years. His highly-sophisticated web of lies featured faux staff, rented children (he pitched it to their parents as a day camp), and staged arrests (always resulting in generous bail outs by the visitors). All told, this Madoffesque charity scheme collectively defrauded these churches of tens of thousands of dollars. More disappointing, it tainted many wonderful memories and fertilized the unhealthy seeds of cynicism and close-heartedness.

My first response to Simon’s elaborate scam was eye-rolling distrust. This type of story can cultivate skepticism, prompting us to pull back. But it doesn’t have to. It does not mandate that we retreat. In the face of even unbearable trials, Jesus prods us to advance, but to do so with eyes wide open:

Behold, I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves; so be shrewd as serpents and innocent as doves. – Matthew 10: 16

Jesus’ instructions to his disciples preceded their harrowing journey to bring the good news to the world. He knew their path would be lined with hardship. Still, he sent them out, charging them to be as shrewd as they were innocent. Abounding in compassion, but not the undiscerning kind. Go to Kenya, but send back a scout if you sense something is amiss. Pour out generosity, but do so discriminately, taking Jesus’ instructions as your marching orders. Love abundantly, but always ask hard questions. Jesus sends us out. No retreat. No close fists. No bitterness. Go boldly, shrewd as serpents and innocent as doves.

*Names changed to protect confidentiality.

Mortensen, Madonna and Saving the World

Picture this scene: You are dining at a new restaurant. The server hastily distributes the plates and departs with a sarcastic, “Enjoy!” You sample each portion of the meal, but with every passing bite, your disappointment swells. The sautéed chicken is undercooked and flavorless. The corn risotto is pasty and infused with inexcusable quantities of black pepper. Wilting iceberg lettuce and gobs of artery-clogging dressing compose a poor façade of a salad.

As you dejectedly push the underwhelming plate away, the chef stops by your table for his customary check-in. “How’s the meal?” he asks.

You proceed to detail the substandard reality of the bad meal and poor service. In the middle of your complaint, the chef interjects with an outstretched hand.

“Before you go on, let me explain,” he says. “I need you to know something: I truly, honestly, attempted my very best on this meal. I made it especially for you and had actually hoped this would be the best meal you ever tasted. In regards to the bad service, we endeavor to treat our customers with first class service. It’s our hope that anyone who steps through the doors of our restaurant is treated like royalty.”

The chef’s response is baffling. Regardless of how desperately he wanted to serve great food, it does not excuse his terrible food and shoddy service. You would hold him accountable for the meal, for the results, not for his noble aims. Still, this scenario is not as preposterous as it reads.

Over the past few weeks, two major charity failures hit the press. Madonna, perhaps America’s most iconic pop diva, raised eyebrows from the public and furor from the donors who supported her nonprofit. Madonna raised over $18 million to build a school for 400 girls in Malawi. The only problem is that her organization spent millions of these donated dollars but never actually built a school. “It has always been my dream to train women leaders who can help develop the country,” Madonna said when she launched her fundraising campaign for Malawi. “It is my aim to see Malawian girls get the right education.”

Photo Source: The Guardian UK

Greg Mortensen, the oft-ballyhooed author of Three Cups of Tea, was also in the news for what we now know were highly-exaggerated (in some cases wholly fabricated) accounts of his heroic journeys in Pakistan. A 60 Minutes investigation of the nonprofit he founded revealed innumerable cases of mismanagement and lack of financial accountability. Sadly, 60 Minutes cites that half of the dozens of schools he claims to have built are nonexistent, empty, or were not funded by Mortensen. Several years ago, in his acceptance interview after winning a Public Service award, Mortensen said, “I decided…that I’d like to dedicate my life to promoting education and literacy, and building schools in Pakistan, Afghanistan.”

Mortensen and Madonna, like the aloof chef, had grandiose and honorable aims, which attracted thousands to support them. As we say, their hearts were in the right places—in this case, Malawi and Pakistan. What matters, however, is the quality of the food, of the results. Is it any good? Are the results positive? If someone says they’re going to change the world, we should ask if they know how to do it. If we’ve learned anything from politicians and pastors; it’s that we need to measure them by the lives they lead and by what they have done, not solely on what they say, by how famous they are, or by the nobility of their intentions.

We aren’t concerned whether the doctor loves her craft, but about whether she makes her patients well. We don’t care about whether the builder hoped to construct the world’s best home, but about whether it keeps out the rain. We don’t excuse the doctor, builder or the chef and we shouldn’t excuse Madonna or Mortensen in something as important as educating vulnerable children in Malawi and Pakistan. Madonna and Mortensen endeavored to help the poor, but pious motivation is no excuse for bad charity. Big dreams don’t matter if you can’t season the chicken or hire a quality waitstaff. 

Should I Sponsor a Child?

In a conversation with a friend a few years ago, we began discussing international child sponsorship. We wrestled back-and-forth for some time, discussing both the good and the bad. Since that initial conversation, I have repeated that discussion time-and-again, including a lengthy conversation with a colleague who was himself sponsored as a child in the Dominican Republic. His insights have informed this post significantly. It is a sensitive issue and I pray, even while I write this, that my reflections are gracious and balanced.

Child sponsorship has been a wildly successful in connecting donors with poor children around the world. Billions of dollars are funneled every year to international organizations through child sponsorship programs. Letters are written back-and-forth and funds are given faithfully every month. But, is it doing long-term good? Or could it actually be perpetuating the problems it claims to solve?

I am reminded of Christ’s admonition to us… “Be shrewd as serpents and kind as doves” (Matt 10:16).  In that light, I will highlight both the good and the bad of child sponsorship programs and allow you to disseminate accordingly. First, a few strengths of child sponsorship:

• Jesus had a special place in his heart for children (Matt 19:14). Without exception, children are our world’s most vulnerable demographic. Christians are mandated to defend and protect orphans throughout Scripture.
• The majority of people which enter into a relationship with Christ do so before the age of 18. How can we ignore this important demographic? The data supports this as a strategic age upon which the Church should focus.
• Helping children can change the future. As children are educated, equipped and mentored, we have the opportunity to train the next generation of leaders.
• Many organizations are “doing it right” and I am convinced that Compassion International, to be very specific, does child sponsorship better than anyone else. The centrality of the Gospel in their curriculum, their close partnership with local churches, their laser-focused precision on children, and their grounded and principled operations set them a notch above all others.

That being said, not all child sponsorship programs are as effective. While “helping children” is an amiable aim, we need to examine the long-term impacts. Several important considerations:

• These programs can undermine the role of parents. I had a friend who visited a community in Ghana and an angry mother chased him out of her neighborhood saying, “I can take care of my own children!” She thought my friend was with a child sponsorship organization. An extreme example, but worth considering. God’s design includes parents as providers for their children. Only a small percentage of sponsored children are truly orphaned.
• Child sponsorship can have the same impacts of a bad welfare system. In an email I recently received, a friend shared a story which communicated just that. “My sister is a missionary in Chile…She knows of families that live off the money they get from child sponsorship programs. As one child outgrows the sponsorship program, the parents have another child so they can continue to qualify for the funding.” Yikes.
• These programs can pitch wealthy Americans as the “great heroes” to the poor children in the developing world. Are we sending a message which paints a picture of the donor as the healer and the child as the patient? The nature of this type of relationship can be unhealthy.
• Many of these programs are wrought with fraud.  A friend who worked in Congo shared that one of the Christian child sponsorship program directors wrote (not translated) the kids’ letters to the donors. She would often come to his office and he would have piles of letters which he authored, pretending to be the sponsored children.
• Jealousy is alive and well. My colleague who was sponsored as a child talked about how it stirred up jealousy among his peers. He would receive special gifts (baseball gloves, toys, etc.), a better education, hot meals, and a chance for college scholarships and the un-sponsored children would not.
• Child sponsorship can encourage dependency. Poorly designed charitable aid can put a choke-hold on ingenuity and entrepreneurship. Our goal should always be to help those on the margins stand on their own feet so that continued support is no longer needed. I have met with countless friends working in orphanages and with sponsorship programs who have expressed concerns about kids who graduate from their programs being unable to fend for themselves.

I’ll end with a suggestion from an expert, Jonathan Martin. Jonathan was a missionary in Asia for over ten years and is currently a missions pastor in Portland Oregon. His fantastic book, Giving Wisely?, devotes a chapter specifically to this issue. He ends with a list of four hard questions which he suggests we all ask the agencies through whom we sponsor children:

1. How does this program seek to get the children out of a cycle of dependency?
2. How does it encourage work?
3. How does it keep the responsibility upon the shoulders of the parents and the society to take care of its own?
4. What time frame does the agency have for getting the community to stand on its own feet so sponsorship is no longer needed in a given village?

No intervention or program is perfect (as I’ve written previously) and this is not an indictment of an entire approach, but rather a call to prudence and accountability. Not all child sponsorship is created equal.

Atheist Supports Evangelism

Matthew Parris, an award-winning columnist with a prominent British newspaper, wrote this in a recent column:

 Travelling in Malawi refreshed another belief, too: One I’ve been trying to banish all my life, but an observation I’ve been unable to avoid since my African childhood. It confounds my ideological beliefs, stubbornly refuses to fit my world view, and has embarrassed my growing belief that there is no God.

Now a confirmed atheist, I’ve become convinced of the enormous contribution that Christian evangelism makes in Africa: sharply distinct from the work of secular NGOs, government projects and international aid efforts. These alone will not do. Education and training alone will not do. In Africa Christianity changes people’s hearts. It brings a spiritual transformation. The rebirth is real. The change is good. (emphasis mine)

What a powerful proposition Parris suggests. I agree with him strongly, as does my organization, HOPE International. We believe his comments are the reason Christ-centered organizations are so important in Africa. Still, it is confounding to read this from an atheist. Essentially, what Parris says compares to Mitt Romney making a comment like this in a primary debate: “You know, I believe I’m a great candidate, but I just think Rick Perry is better prepared and will be more effective than me at bringing about the type of change we need in America.”

It’s laughable to think about. Yet, this is what Parris says. Despite that he whole-heartedly believes there is no God, he supports and believes in the work of Christian organizations in Africa because of the transformation which only God can bring. We have seen this clearly demonstrated around the globe. The transformative message of Christ coupled with an effective and empowering method of helping is a dynamic combination.

As a decidedly Christian organization, we are actually able to add tremendous value to the lives of our clients because of our Christian-ness. And Parris, an atheist, seems to agree. In other words, HOPE is not just a Christianized knock-off version of bigger secular organizations. HOPE’s faith-based approach is much more than that – it’s ultimately the singularly most-important characteristic of our work.