A couple months ago, Chris Tomlin visited us in Omaha. Chris Tomlin is one of the most recognizable and prominent worship song-writers in modern age. He was in town to do a show at the Mid-America center.
During the past year, Chris and the Passion community have been raising money for the Sari Bari project in Calcutta India. Through Passion’s “One Million Can” campaign, they have raised over $100,000 for the women of Calcutta’s red-light districts. This money literally creates freedom for women enslaved in the commercial sex industry.
Sari Bari is one of the most compelling things WMF is doing anywhere in the world. I am often moved to tears reflecting on it.
Sari Bari’s website states:
Sari Bari, a business initiative, seeks the freedom and restoration of Kolkata’s red-light areas through dignity-giving employment opportunities for women affected by the sex trade.The name “Sari Bari” comes from two symbols. A sari is the traditional clothing worn by women in India. Saris represent the essence of womanhood. In Bengali, the word bari means “house” or home.” Our hope is for Sari Bari to be a safe home where women who have been exploited in the sex trade can have their dignity restored and experience a new life in the making.
By providing a way out of the commercial sex industry the women are offered jobs in the Sari Bari community centers to make beautiful quilted blankets from old, recycled saris.. The symbol is important. A garment, tossed aside or thrown away, is recovered and restored. Something seemingly used up is transformed into something beautiful and valuable. It’s a prophetic image of what the Sari Bari community is actively doing within the sex trade—allowing women who have been exploited and abused to discover dignity. Not only do the women of Sari Bari discover dignity, but the recovery of their identity has been one of the most hope-filled stories I’ve ever heard.
One of the many coping mechanisms of people who experience prolonged sexual abuse and trauma is the creation of false identities, or an alter-alias that a victim identifies with. Most of our friends who prostitute go by a street name, one that they emotionally hide behind. They externalize this alias so that the exploitation they experience happens to their false identity, trying to protect their real self by hiding that part of them deep inside. Many of our friends in Sari Bari have actually over-identified with these aliases, some of them adopting their street names as the only name they use.
A couple years ago when our project director suggested the women start “signing” their blankets with a “made in India by…” tag, we weren’t sure what name the women would chose. In a surprising eruption of grace, nearly every woman chose their real names—the precious names given them as babies—to sign their blankets. Recovering their names is a start to the slow and patient work of recovering their true identity as princesses of a King who loves them, chooses them and speaks restoration over them.
So, when Chris Tomlin was in Omaha we gave him a Sari Bari blanket as a “thank you” gift for the work he’s done on behalf of the women. Later that night I did devotions for Chris and his band, Israel Houghton and the New Breed (they were the opening act on the tour) and their road crew. After devotions I stuck around for the show.
The concert was quite the spectacle. Light show, huge video screens and the music popped. But toward the end of concert, Chris dialed it down and set the guitar aside. He stood alone, center stage, with a single spotlight shining directly on him. Behind a microphone, he gently and reverently held up his new Sari Bari blanket and began telling the packed auditorium about Sari Bari. He shared about the aliases the women take as means of coping with the abuse. As he reflected on how the women each choose their given names, he searched for the tag on his blanket. Upon discovering it, he said, “And this one, this blanket, was made by a woman named Mukti.”
I sat in that auditorium, surrounded by thousands of people and began sobbing. For much of her life, Mukti has lived in the small prison of her brothel room. Forced to have sex with as many as 10-15 men a day, she has been called horrible, unspeakable things. But that night, somewhere in mid-America her name was spoken of with honor and respect. Love was extended to her and her story of grace and restoration was an invitation to worship.
A couple weeks later I was in Asia and spent some time with Sarah Lance who directs the Sari Bari project. I recounted the story for Sarah when she told me that in Hindi, Mukti actually means “Freedom.” Freedom is the prayer we pray for our friends. And the WMF community in Calcutta has offered themselves as answer to this prayer.
I’m writing this letter to ask you to pray with us for freedom.
Enclosed you will find a ribbon with the name of one of the women who works in the Sari Bari community center in Calcutta. These women are not “prostitutes” or “hookers” or any of the other terms that contribute to their dehumanization. They are women who are on a journey. And they need our prayers.
Please take this ribbon and put it above your mirror, pin it up at your desk or work station, use it as a bookmark—just put it somewhere visible as a reminder to pray for freedom.
And may we find the courage to be available as an answer to this prayer.
For our friends,Chris Heuertz
