Red-Light Manikin in the Flowered Dress

She sat on a stool, legs crossed, in a flowered dress.

I was in the Red-Light District of Koh Samui, Thailand. Why? Because I was invited by the groom-to-be to accompany he and his friends for drinks. If you want to get drinks in Koh Samui, you cannot avoid the Red-Light District.

It's an island known for its stunning beauty, breath-taking sunsets, picturesque beaches, and high-end but affordable resorts. As a result, Koh Samui's economy is dependent upon tourism. Tourists, mostly Western and European men, frequent Koh Samui in pursuit of a different kind of picturesque beauty...something all together gruesome that will, no doubt, take their breath away. They come here for sex.

She's still sitting in the same posture on the same stool. Only now, she forces a smile.

I know the story of this place. I've read countless books and articles about the reality of sex slavery. Every year, I scour the Persons in Trafficking Report that documents its global progress and problem spots. I subscribe to the email of every abolition organization in an effort to feed the break in my heart for this particular form of injustice and to learn how I can continue to be a part of its solution.

I've read of how it all works. Now, I've seen it.

Twelve girls, ages 14-19, dressed in little more than thong and boots dance to the rhythm of their DJ inside of and on the street in front of their bar. They are aggressive in their work, dancing in front of you, reaching for your hand, asking for your name...anything to get you to stop, even for a moment.

Then, there are the little girls, ages 7-10, no doubt in training to fill the boots of their mentors. These little ones are bold. They walk up with arms filled with roses, placing one in your hand. Their objective is to sell you a rose which you, in turn, offer to the girl you want. Little girls, courageously approaching Western men, talking seductively to them outside of the bars at midnight...

The den mother sits near the back of the bar watching everything. She is the matriarch who, no doubt, is too old to wear the thong and boots. Now, she runs the show. I watch as she screams at and slaps under-productive girls while simultaneously pushing men at the most seductive ones.

All of them, the dancing girls, the little girls, the den mothers...all of them are owned by someone.

She hasn't moved in three hours. Same posture...same stool...same forced smile.

"Who is she?" I wonder as I walk by her again with the groom-to-be and his friends.

"Why hasn't she moved?"
"What will happen to her if she doesn't?"

Our next stop brought us to a bar where I could periodically check on what seemed to be a human manikin in a flowered dress. I knew she wasn't a manikin. I knew that she was a real person with a real story...she and I had made eye contact...but what I saw in her eyes left me wondering about her story.

She wasn't like the other girls. She made no attempts at aggressive seduction, her smiles were forced and her eye contact was labored. She didn't expose her thong or wear black leather boots. She wasn't moving to the rhythms of her DJ. She simply sat there, in a conservative flowered dress, obviously wishing that she was anywhere else but on that stool.

Was she a young mother with children in bed somewhere selling herself so that her family could eat?
Was she a young wife with a husband working on the main land selling herself so that she could eat?
Was she a slave owned by someone selling herself so that she could be free?

"Hi, my name is Jeremy."

She sat up uncomfortably, the forced smile growing progressively strained. Was that panic I read in her eyes? Fear? It was certainly not relief.

"I just wanted to say hi."

OBL and the quandary of Bi-Citizenship

I was stunned to pick up the newspaper one week ago today to discover that Osama bin Laden had been killed. The most monstrous face of terrorism of my time was no more. The cynical tyrant, distorter of Islam, and disseminater of hatred was no longer free to plot the demise of innocents.

As I read the countless articles highlighting the top-secret mission that led to OBL's death, I found myself somber and wondering aloud, "How am I to process this?"

When I read a compelling article, my practice is to scour a dozen reputable websites in an effort to get a more well-rounded, global perspective. What I discovered last Monday left me undone and my question deepened.

The new question: "As a citizen of the Kingdom of God and of the Contemporary Empire, how am I to process the death of Osama bin Laden?"

The consensus answer that resounded throughout the Empire was "celebration". By the 9th inning of an east coast MLB game, the sold out crowd was unified in chants of "U.S.A!" News cameras captured the jubilation of college students in front of the White House and in the streets of their college cities celebrating the death and demise of the one who had been the face of "the enemy" for more than half of their lives.

As I watched the celebration ensue, I was reminded of September 11, 12, & 13, 2001 when I watched people on the other side of the world celebrating the atrocities of 9/11, burning effigies of people that looked like me, and, with jubilation, chanting the names of their countries. Ten years ago, as I watched that unfold, I became fueled not with a desire for justice...but with a desire for revenge.

An image came to mind...an image of a divided world sitting on opposing sides of a stadium looking at each other. Periodically, a team on the playing field would score and their fans would cheer while the opposing team dropped their heads and the opposing fans sat by stoically, awaiting their chance for celebratory retaliation.

I wonder...do we live in a world much like this image? Do we live in a world where we take turns cheering each other's demise?

I wonder...will the cheering stop only when there's no one left to cheer?

"As a citizen of the Kingdom of God and of the Contemporary Empire, how am I to process the death of Osama bin Laden?"

The Scriptures have been my guide this week as I've considered the question. I've read a number of Old Testament passages where God warns against our celebrating the fall of the enemy. I've read a number of Old Testament passages where God seems to initiate the demise of the enemy. This tension requires other blog posts and doesn't necessarily help with the question at hand.

Then I re-read Matthew 5:38-42 where Jesus says, "When power is abused and you're the victim, don't get even. Get creative in love." These words of Jesus, whose death and demise was celebrated by other Empires, gave credence to my misgivings with our Imperial celebration.

While "celebration" is a way of processing bin Laden's death, it's probably not the ideal way for those of us with bi-citizenship.

If not celebration, then what?

As I pondered the question further, I heard the word "justice" emerge and re-emerge as the Imperial definition of bin Laden's death.

The word "justice" paired with images of dancing college students holding signs with a bullet-ridden Osama bin Ladan raised yet another question for me:

Are our definitions of justice and revenge synonymous?

In the Kingdom of God, justice is the word that describes the moment when something wrong is made right...when something broken is made whole again. In light of that definition, can citizens of the Kingdom of God celebrate justice in the wake of bin Laden's death?

Perhaps we who call ourselves citizens of the Kingdom need to be careful not to let the definitions of the Empire become the definitions of the Kingdom...

The question remains: "As a citizen of the Kingdom of God and of the Contemporary Empire, how am I to process the death of Osama bin Laden?"

Perhaps a better way than "celebration" is "relief". The world can be relieved that a leader like bin Laden can no longer plot the demise of countless people. The world can be relieved that one more mass murderer has been stopped. But in our relief, let us be realistic that evil and suffering did not go away with the life of Osama bin Laden.

Evil and suffering remain...and will likely intensify...dancing in the streets has that effect on the other side of the stadium.

Is there another, better, more beautiful way forward?

Yes.

The Jesus Way of Shalom. Reconciliation.
The Jesus Way of thinking carefully how we live as citizens of the Kingdom within an opposing Empire.
The Jesus Way of not letting Kingdom definitions become cross-pollinated with Imperial definitions.

The other, better, more beautiful way forward is the Jesus Way of getting creative in love. This will likely require you and I meeting in the middle of the field, learning each other's name, embracing each other, apologizing on behalf of our "team", and conspiring together for a Kingdom future.