Don’t Forget Me: Compassion in Action

It can be confusing… The Week of Compassion is both an organization, AND an actual week of the year. This week, to be exact. WoC is the humanitarian aid ministry of the Christian Church, Disciples of Christ. And while they do work all year long– and our congregations support this shared ministry in every season– this is the time when we celebrate, emphasize, and generally beat the drum for this important mission. So today we have the gift of a guest post from Vy Nguyen, Week of Compassion’s Executive Director. Enjoy. Pass it around. And most importantly, GIVE HERE. 

“Don’t forget me, ok?”

I love the way my mother-in-law plays with my 10-month old son. She is always asking if she can take him  all day.  Of course my wife and I always say yes—who doesn’t like free babysitting? Yes, please!

My son loves his grandmother.  He opens his eyes wide when he sees her; he laughs loudly when she picks him up; he puts his head on her left shoulder and gently falls asleep to the rhythm of her heartbeat; he is at peace with her.  And my mother-in-law loves every moment of it, too.  My son has grown attached to her, and often cries if she walks away, or if he can’t see her at a distance when he is playing with his toys.  He has to have her nearby: he needs to know that she has not abandoned him.  My mother-in-law has grown attached to him as well: like most grandparents, she always asks him to say “bà nội,” which is “grandma” in Vietnamese, and after saying “bà nội,” often whispers to him “Con đừng quên bà, nhe?”

Don’t forget me, ok?

Like many Vietnamese, my mother-in-law has been shaped by Daoism and Confucianism.  For a child to be able to remember his or her grandparents represents the linage of respect, honor, and ancestral identity that puts their whole self-being in balance.  To remember your grandparents is to know where your ancestors came from.  There is a similar saying here in America: don’t forget your roots.  For many of us, forgetting your ancestors is a grave act that shows you have lost your footing in this world.  Those simple yet deeply important words from my mother-in-law’s mouth carry so many memories; so much history and love.

Don’t forget me, ok? 

When people are hurt or displaced, they often feel forgotten. Our calling as Christians, and the work of Week of Compassion, is to see; to accompany; and to always remember. When individuals and communities are forced to rebuild by circumstances beyond their control, we respond with compassion and hope.

Don’t forget me, ok?

People in Nepal lived through a devastating earthquake last year and are still trying to rebuild their communities and lives.

Don’t forget me, ok?

People in Rowlett, TX, saw their homes destroyed by a major tornado over Christmas. They continue to clean up the damage, and rebuild.

Don’t forget me, ok?

People in the Middle East and Europe flee their homes as refugees.

Don’t. Forget. Me. Ok?

As the disaster, refugee, and sustainable development ministry of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), Week of Compassion doesn’t forget. We respond to these communities on behalf of the entire Church, and listen to people across the world who are hurting. Wherever there is a disaster, Week of Compassion responds.  We provide resources, medicine, emergency food and water, blankets, and much more; but more importantly, our support is a sign of solidarity—a sign that the people are not forgotten, and that the church is with them.

It is hard, heavy, exhausting work to respond to all the communities hurt by violence, natural disasters, economic inequalities, and more.  There are so many things happening around our world, especially right now.  There are more disasters, every day, happening more frequently and on a larger scale.  My phone is constantly going off, giving me warnings that there has been an earthquake, or that a tornado has landed somewhere, or a hurricane has hit an oceanside community.  All can be too much and daunting.  At times it feels easier to focus on the media’s obsession with the election year debates.

It is tempting to turn away, when so many voices say Don’t forget me, ok?

During the season of Lent, we enter deep reflection about our humanity, our journey into the desert, and we examine our relationship with God.  We move through 40 days of this until we get to Easter… until we get to the promise of resurrection and new life.  It can be heavy, exhausting work too. But recently I read a beautiful post where someone reminded us that you can’t get to the resurrection without going through and walking in the season of Lent—the season of hurt, of pain, of not forgetting who we are as children of God.  We have to walk through Lent to get to the resurrection.

Don’t forget me, ok? This season of Lent calls us to remember God’s love for the world.  So that when we are in the resurrection, we can live fully and not forget our bond to God and to one another.  The season of Lent helps us to remember what is important, what is really at stake: the world still needs love, compassion, and connection.  We are called to remember.

We remember so we can return to our roots, to our God.  We remember so we can be strengthened and not forget, and not be tired.

At Week of Compassion, we do the work of remembering, with the help of the whole Church.  We hear the voices of the hurting, and assure them that they are not abandoned; that we are thinking of them, praying for them, and ready to offer relief to those displaced by natural disaster or violence.  We are with them,  even when the world starts to focus on other things after several months. We “remember,” by providing food to the displaced, water to the thirsty, a place to sleep for someone who has lost everything.  Sometimes this requires that we stay for years.  And we stay, because we cannot forget.

The more I think about my mother-in-law and the way she whispers to my son, “Don’t forget me, ok?” the more I am sure she wants him to remember more than just her.  She wants my son to remember her journey over 30 years ago when she fled on a boat to escape a war-torn country, bringing her children safely to the United States.  She is saying something profound about her journey and the life that my son will live into in the future. Just as he must not forget his ancestors, he also must not forget the many people in the world who are still hurting.

“Don’t forget me, ok?” is about much more than her; it’s also about the world we all are trying to create, together.

Con đừng quên bà, nhe?

Vy Nguyen, Executive Director of the Week of Compassion, holds a Master of Divinity from the Divinity School at the University of Chicago, and earned his B.A. in religious studies with a minor in environmental sciences from Texas Christian University. He joins Week of Compassion after serving more than 5 years with Church World Service for the Southwest Regional Office where he worked with congregations and donors to increase their fundraising portfolio. Prior to his work with Church World Service, Vy worked with the Lutheran Volunteer Corps office in Berkeley, CA where he strengthened relationships between volunteers, congregations, and non-profit agencies. 

Vy and his wife, Linh Bui, live in Oakland, CA.