EACH CHILD HAS A NAME

Onstage in the Gathering Place on a recent Friday night was the band Rootdown. They played a beguiling blend of rock, pop, and reggae at a seriously loud volume. Packed densely in front of them stood 150+ teens from about eight area churches. Some of them grooved to the beat. Most of them just stood there, elbow to elbow, swaying gently, letting the wash of sound blast over and through them.

Behind the students were their adult leaders. As the evening progressed they gradually retreated through the doors that lead out of the Gathering Place into HeBrews. It was a gallant attempt to put enough distance between themselves and the band to extend the working life of their ears.

A typical Chapel Hill youth event, to all appearances. But wait. There was a difference. There was no food.

The Rootdown concert marked the first evening of Chapel Hill’s 30 Hour Famine, a World Vision-originated event designed to focus attention on homelessness and hunger. None of the students and leaders had eaten since noon of that Friday, nor would they eat again until 6:00 p.m. on Saturday. Between now and then, they would sleep outside in cardboard boxes and spend all day Saturday doing strenuous physical labor.

It was all designed to drive home a point. Student leader Hayden Indahl, who helped organize the Famine as his senior project for Gig Harbor High School, had taken part in such an event previously. It was an experience that changed his life, which is what gave him the idea of re-creating it at Chapel Hill. “It made me realize what I have,” he said. And he advised his fellow students to “take it in, come with your hearts broken, and learn to love the Lord.”

The students did take it in. After the band finished playing, they listened to a talk by Mawut Mayen, a young man who is a native of Sudan. Mawut was one of the “Lost Boys of the Sudan” who traveled hundreds of miles barefoot to flee oppression in his homeland for the relative safety of refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya. He told them the story of his travels and his travails, which eventually led to his resettlement in the U.S. But he spent many years, from the time he was 3 years old until he was 16, living from day to day. Many of those days did not include any food, and none of them included enough to satisfy his hunger.

It was a powerful story, told well, and the students listened intently.

They also watched a video, a montage of black and white photos of hungry and starving children. It reminded them over and over that each child has a name, that 29,000 such die each day from hunger, 14,000 from drinking unsafe water, and that 852 million go to bed every night hungry. Just like what the Chapel Hill students were feeling right then, many for the first time ever.

Students had varying reactions to their night sleeping in boxes. Many were cold. Some slept well. A few thought it was fun. But all realized that while for them it was a one-time experience, for millions it is what they must do every single day.

The work day on Saturday was tough. The students did yard work and construction work, and spoke afterwards about “somehow finding energy to work without food.” One student said she felt “pathetic” having such a hard time going for 30 hours without food when Mawut had told them he often had to go four days without. Another boy said when he listened to Mawut tell about how he walked so far with so little food it struck him that he “would never ever be able to do that.” Another said it taught him that “you can do anything with God.” And still another mentioned that he felt his prayer was more powerful while he was fasting.

High School Director Brad Scandrett encouraged the students to “keep fasting in different ways,” to try giving up other things—TV, cell phone—to practice gaining strength by filling themselves with God instead of the things they give up.

The students broke their fast with communion, which gave them a whole new level of appreciation for what it is to “hunger and thirst for righteousness.” Then Brad gave the command to “Feast up!” He didn’t have to ask twice.