Last week I took a short break in York.  Whilst there I read a fantastic novel - White Tiger - by Aravind Adiga.  It is about the experience of a low caste Indian in a country experiencing massive economic expansion.  The novel led me to reflect on the utter powerlessness of so many of the world's poor in countries where corruption is rife and human rights abuses are common.  Meanwhile powerful governments like ours  - who would stand a chance of changing things - often tip-toe around the issues because of vested interests in future trade.  The reflection would have stayed at that had I not then taken part in a Quiet Day on the arrest and trial of Jesus.  The connections became obvious.  It's one thing writing a reflection like this - another thing acting on it.  This morning, at our midweek communion service at Birstall, we wrote a letter on behalf of a Cuban journalist unjustly imprisoned - his fate being highlighted by Amnesty International.  Buying Fairtrade, supporting charities like MRDF and Christian Aid that empower local communities, and questioning our own MPs, are all actions we can take to help.  We're not as powerless as we might like to think!  Anyway, here's the reflection:

Just imagine

that you have been

most dreadfully wronged.

You are accused of a crime you did not commit

or

Your relative was taken away by soldiers in the middle of the night

or

Your employer is robbing you of your health, your dignity and a living wage.

The very stones

cry out for justice for you.

Yet there is no hope.

None at all.

You may fight,

but you will not win.

This is because in the game of

"scissors, paper, stone" that people play in your country

money

beats justice every time.

And you have none.

Money has greased the right palms

in the police station, the Town Hall, the Court House.

30 pieces of silver counted out in

rupees, roubles or American dollars.

Money is tied up in trade deals

and special relationships

so that those who might have helped

will wash their hands of you instead.

The Pilates and Judas's

keep playing their part and

the world's poor

keep walking the via Dolorosa.

And we

whose powerful hands

are signed up to a Saviour

whose powerless hands

were offered up to the cross

keep letting them.

Father, forgive us,

for we know what we do.

Rachel Parkinson, York, March 2010