Monday, February 11, 2019

Good News!

Good news! The history book has a publisher. Wipf & Stock has accepted our manuscript, and we’re finally looking at some light at the end of this long tunnel.
A tunnel is probably not the best metaphor for this seven-year project, though much of it has been underground: mining the past in the archives of nine different universities, yearly meetings, mission headquarters, and museums; sifting through a lot of debris; bringing the good stuff up to the top; discovering a few gold nuggets.
And then came figuring out how to organize, analyze, and understand it all, at least enough to begin writing. I have thousands of database items and scanned documents, all backed up and filed away.
But a lot of the research was carried out above ground. The field work required hundreds of interviews with the leaders of the church and, especially, with the children and grandchildren of past leaders. This is where our Bolivian team members were so helpful.
I must confess how joyful most of this work has been. I’m one of those strange people who love to research and write. Although much of this has been drudge work, I’ve been excited to make the discoveries, to begin to see the patterns, to come to understand how God and God’s missionary agents (both expatriate and national) co-labored to plant and develop a community of some 200 Quaker congregations scattered about the Bolivian highlands and tropical valleys.
And now I’m excited to be able to share the story with others.
Our working title has us climbing a mountain—A Long Walk, A Gradual Ascent: The Story of the Bolivian Friends Church in its Context of Conflict. I like the mountain metaphor better than the tunnel. It’s more accurate.
I still have to do my final editing, including cutting down the size of the book. I hope to have the final manuscript to the publisher by early April. Actual publication may take up to year from that date.
Rejoice with us!

Tuesday, January 8, 2019

How many Quakers does it take?

Actually, this is not a joke about changing a light bulb. (If it were, I imagine the answer would have to do with how hard it is to come to consensus on weighty issues.)
Rather, this is a story about how many different yearly meetings contributed to the beginnings of the Bolivian Friends Church (INELA).
In previous blogs we’ve seen how a Native American who was converted and discipled under California Yearly Meeting gave his life as a missionary to Bolivia after a few months preaching on the streets of La Paz. We’ve seen how this man, William Abel, partnered with Quaker missionaries from yearly meetings in Kansas (Florence Smith) and Indiana (Emma Morrow and Mattie Blount) in 1919, a year of beginnings.
Our attention now turns to a young Bolivia mestizo, Juan Ayllón, who was drawn to the witness of these early Quaker missionaries and became a convinced Friend, also in 1919. Ayllón was particularly attracted by William Abel, having encountered him one evening praying publicly in a street meeting. Ayllón found himself moved by the power and sincerity of Abel’s prayer, and he determined to get to know him. Ayllón joined Abel and the others in their street ministry, attended Abel in his bout with small pox, and helped bury him in the public cemetery in La Paz. It had been a brief but highly impactful relationship. At that point Juan Ayllón seemed to take on the mantle of William Abel, including Abel’s convictions about adequate preparation for Christian service.
Through Emma Morrow’s contacts with the fledgling mission work in Central America, Juan Ayllón received an invitation to study in the new “Berea Training School for Christian Workers” in Guatemala. Missionary to Guatemala, R. Esther Smith (California Yearly Meeting) was especially interested in this young Bolivian and offered him a full scholarship in the new training school. So, in the fall of 1920, Juan Ayllón began a four-month journey (via trains, boats, and a donkey) from La Paz, Bolivia to Chiquimula, Guatemala.
The journey itself was a series of misadventures (which you can read about when the book is published). Juan earned his passage through manual labor. Legal problems prevented his disembarking in Central America, and he ended up in New York City, knowing no one and speaking little English.
Arriving on February 14, the ship’s captain let Ayllón occupy his room on board for five days while the ship reloaded. After that time, on a Sunday morning, Ayllón gathered his belongings to leave at a police station in New York City while he attempted to arrange for his passage to Guatemala. A policeman at the station, upon learning that Ayllón was a Quaker, “just happened” to know of a Friends meeting house nearby and gave him directions.
Ayllón was the first to arrive at the meeting house and he prayed in silence for someone to help him. After the meeting, people were interested in his story. Paul Furnas of New York and Frederick Swan of New Jersey hosted him for the next few weeks. Between them they arranged for his trip by train to New Orleans, and then by ship to the east coast of Guatemala. Thanks to the grace and generosity of these Quakers, Juan Ayllón finally arrived in Chiquimula on the evening of March 9, 1921, late for the beginning of classes, but much welcomed.
Ayllón spent the next three years in the Berea Training School. In January of 1924, he married Honduran classmate, Tomasa Valle, and in the Central American Friends Yearly Meeting sessions, Juan and Tomasa were commissioned as their first missionaries to Bolivia. They sailed in April, arriving in La Paz in May of 1924, thus beginning a new phase in the development of the Bolivia Friends Church. In the years between 1924 and 1930, years which saw the first official Friends Churches (INELA) planted in Bolivia, the mission work was supported by the Central American Friends Church and Mission, through the service of Juan and Tomasa Ayllón.
Getting to this place in the story required the contributions of Friends from California, Kansas, Indiana, New York, New Jersey, Honduras, and Guatemala. Oregon Yearly Meeting would not become involved until 1930. But that’s another chapter.
I should also add that Ayllón’s fascinating conversion story involved a Methodist missionary, a Salvation Army evangelistic service, and a small Baptist church, after which Ayllón met William Abel and became a convinced Friend. (Read the book for the details.)
This particular light bulb required many Christians, as well as many Quakers, to finally reach the light-giving point!

Friday, January 4, 2019

Favorite books of 2018

Of the many books I read last year, these impacted me the most. As usual, this is not a list of books written in 2018, but of the ones I read last year. For some reason, I concentrated more on non-fiction, especially memoir.

Michael O’Brien, Sophia House (2005): Set in Warsaw during the Nazi occupation, a bookseller risks all to give refuge to a Jewish boy who proves to be a precocious seeker after truth. Through their long conversations in the dangerous setting, Pawel, the bookseller comes back to his own faith. A moving story.
Jane Kirkpatrick, Emma of Aurora: A Clearing in the Wild (2006), A Tendering in the Storm (2007), A Mending at the Edge (2008): Trilogy based on the real history of a Christian colony from Michigan (on the verge of becoming a sect) moving to Washington and finally to Aurora, Oregon. The story of one woman’s growth into maturity and compassion. Promotes the values and rights of women without being stridently feminist.
Ursula Hegi, Stones from the River (1994): Story of Trudi, a dwarf, in Germany during the rise of Hitler. Small town life of a marginal person, while larger issues surround the village, making many people (a whole race) marginal. As an adolescent, Trudi was molested by some boys her own age (including one who had been her friend), and in anger she throws stones into the river. Later, she uses stones from the river to name people and events in her life and to build an altar. Gradually as she matures, she learns tolerance and forgiveness.

Nadia Hashimi, The Pearl that Broke its Shell (2014): By an Afghani author about the sufferings of women under Islam. The stories of two girls, separated by a century, one the great-great grandmother of the other, interweave. Both suffered under the rule of the men in their lives, both lived for a time disguised as boys, and both found ways of escape. Good writing, important themes, cultural insights.

Clodaugh Finn, A Time To Risk All (2017): The sub-title reads, “The incredible untold story of MARY ELMES, the Irish woman who saved children from Nazi concentration camps.” This is a good academic biography that focuses on Elmes’ time in Spain during the Spanish Civil War and in southern France during World War II. It’s an incredible story, but doesn’t go much into Elmes’ personal life, probably because she was such a private person and no personal records remain. She worked for Quakers, but her own commitment to Quakerism is unclear.
Tara Westover, Educated: A Memoir (2018): Amazing memoir about what it means to be poor in the context of a right-wing cult in America. About the role of education in breaking free and coming to live an expanded and full life. Powerful.
Kathleen Norris, The Virgin of Bennington (2001): One of my favorite books this year, this is Norris’ memoir of her college years at Bennington (where she finally lost her virginity as well as her faith, but discovered poetry), and her years in New York working at the Poetry Academy and learning more about the life of a poet, struggling, and finally deciding to leave New York for her grandmother’s ancestral home in North Dakota. Good insights about poetry and poets and mentoring.
Jamie Wright, The Very Worst Missionary: A Memoir or Whatever (2018): Wright’s typical rant against Christian missions, based on her very limited experience as a missionary for two or three years in Costa Rica. She seems to be trying to shock. She’s a skillful writer and an intelligent person, but arrogance may be her downfall. She makes some good points but needs to broaden her experience and read some history. Even so, I enjoyed the book.
J. D. Vance, Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis (2016): Excellent and insightful on the situation of the poor white working class in Kentucky, Ohio, etc. Vance reflects on the factors that provided a way out for him, mostly people like his grandparents who genuinely loved him and others who provided a positive example. He talks about his ongoing battles to resist his learned responses to conflict (shouting or escaping). The book illustrates the power of the environment of poverty, but shows that it is not necessarily destiny.

Peter Wohlleben, The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate, Discoveries from a Secret World (2016): One of my favorites this year, this is an excellent non-fiction study by a German tree scientist about the complex underground connections (fungi) between trees in an old growth forest. It deals with the differences between and old growth and planted forests, the slowness of healthy growth, how trees handle disasters—storms, fires, beasts, humans (the worse), how they feed each other, how they share—or don’t share—light, how they migrate when necessary. Much more complex than I ever dreamed.
Bob Woodward, Fear: Trump in the White House (2018): A hard and terrible book to read, but an important one. Woodward carefully documents details of Trump’s behavior, confirming the suspicions I’ve had of a childish, stupid and very dangerous and controlling man. It’s important that this is documented. God have mercy on us and on the whole world.
Douglas Preston, The Lost City of the Monkey God (2017): Non-fiction, story of the discovery of two large pre-Columbian cities in the Honduran rain forests. The difficulties of working in the snake and bug infested atmosphere, the importance of the discoveries (still happening), etc. The book shifted emphasis to the disease of Leishmania braziliensis caused by sand flies, which the author and others on the expedition contracted, with life-threatening and life-long consequences. Discussion as to what caused the sudden demise of the cities, and the effects of diseases, both from the Old and New worlds.
Lisa Ohlen Harris, The Fifth Season (2013): The subtitle is, “A Daughter-in Law’s Memoir of Caregiving.” The events happened in Texas but the author has since moved to Newberg where I live. An excellent book and a compassionate story that doesn’t withhold or gloss over the hard stuff. Well written.

Jane Kenyon, Otherwise: New and Selected Poems (1996): I love her poetry and find it accessible, much of it based on the ordinary stuff of life.
James Wright, The Branch Will Not Break (2011) : I love the title and the poem it’s based on, about waking up after a hangover (and more). Others I love include “Trying to Pray,” “Beginning,” and “Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota.”
Scott Cairn, Endless Life: Poems of the Mystics (2014): Cairns takes the writings of some of the church Fathers and Mothers (many of them Orthodox, as he is) and turns passages into contemporary poems. Good devotional material.

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

How to become president

I recently checked out a library book compiled by Herbert Hoover in 1949. It’s called On Growing Up: His Letters from and to American Children. The letters show Hoover’s character and values. One in particular seems especially appropriate today, for children of all ages.

Dear Mr. Hoover,
I am a boy 10 years old and who would like to become President like you were when I grow up. I thought that if I wrote to you that you can give me some information how you got to be a President. I wish you would send me an autograph. I would like that very much.
Your friend, Martin ______

Dear Martin:
I am in favor of your ambition to be President. As to your request on the rules as to “how to get to be President,” I suggest that:
The first rule is just to be a boy getting all the constructive joy out of life;
The second rule is that no one should win the Presidency without honesty and sportsmanship and consideration for others in his character—together with religious faith;
The third rule is that he should be a man of education.
If you follow these rules, you will be a man of standing in your community even if you do not make the White House. And who can tell? Maybe that also.
Regards, Herbert Hoover

Perhaps if Hoover were writing this letter today, he would factor in little girls as well as little boys. But it’s still excellent advice. 
If only…….

Monday, December 17, 2018

1919, a year of convergence in Bolivia

William Abel was not the first known Quaker to visit Bolivia with the intent to share the gospel message. That honor goes to Florence Smith, a recorded Friends minister and Bible teacher from Kansas Yearly Meeting. She had met Abel in the Training School for Christian Workers, probably in 1913, his first year back from the Philippines. The school had invited her to be a teacher, and she served for the 1913-1914 school year. Abel would have been one of her students.
Smith’s passion was evangelism, so she left the school after only one year to pursue a ministry of preaching. We lose track of her activities but discover that sometime around 1917, she traveled to Bolivia as an independent missionary, and found employment in La Paz teaching English.
William Abel graduated from the school in 1916, and after several years working to pay back his school debts, he renewed his relationship to Peniel Missions, the agency that had sent him to the Philippines. Peniel assigned him to Bolivia, apparently to work in a newly established mission farm on Lake Titicaca.
Travelling by boat and train, Abel arrived in La Paz sometime in March 1919. While waiting for the right time to move out to the farm, he occupied himself with selling Bibles (a typical missionary activity of the times) and preaching on the streets of the city. We don’t know when or how he reestablished contact with Florence Smith.
But Smith was definitely active in persuading two other Quaker missionaries to come to La Paz in 1919. The Union Bible Seminary in Westfield, Indiana had been actively looking for a mission field, and partly through Smith’s persuasion, they commissioned two young Quaker women for that work. That very year Emma Morrow and Mattie Blount traveled together and were met at the La Paz train station by Smith. The month was May. The three women began exploring what form their mission work would take. Although their Spanish language skills were largely lacking, the women soon joined forces with William Abel and began preaching on the streets of La Paz.
El Prado, La Paz, the 1930s

On August 21, 1919, Morrow wrote home a description of a three-week series of street meetings where the four ministered together, after having obtained an official permit from the local government. Morrow wrote that,
“We have been out in the ‘Prado,’ one of the main streets of the city every night except two since Aug. 8th, and during that time hundreds of people have heard the Gospel. I believe there has been an average of a hundred people each night that would stand for a full hour, and sometimes longer, to listen, while many came and went, and the attention has been remarkably good….
“We have given away thousands of tracts and have sold 100 New Testaments during the three weeks…. Mr. Able [sic] and Florence Smith do the preaching, and Mattie and I pray and help sing.”
Abel apparently made several converts and influenced several other young Christians, among them Juan Ayllón, a young mestizo Christian. He joined with Abel in the street ministry and was deeply influenced by Abel’s spirit and zeal for the work.
Upon his arrival in La Paz, Abel had written home, “I have a strange feeling that somewhere around these parts I shall end my days.” And, indeed, William Abel died of small pox only eight months after his arrival, on October 12, 1919. Ayllón and Morrow cared for him in his final illness, and Ayllón arranged for the funeral and burial in La Paz. The verse on the marble slab marking his niche reads, “Whether living or dying, I am the Lord’s.”
Ayllón would take up Abel’s mantel in the years to come. Today the Bolivian Friends Church (INELA) considers both Abel and Ayllón to be its founders, Abel’s sacrificial death being the seed of the church (John 12:24).
But the year 1919 and the convergence of Friends missionaries from different yearly meetings (Kansas, California, and Indiana) would prove to be the foundation of all the Quaker work that would later grow up in Bolivia. These would eventually find expression in the different Bolivian yearly meetings, the largest being the Bolivian Holiness Friends, the INELA, and Central Friends. They all date back to three hardy young Quaker women, one Indian Quaker from California, and one young mestizo convert, preaching on the streets of La Paz.

Monday, December 10, 2018

Native American Quaker missionary: the story continues

After graduating from the 6th grade and while making his living in Ramona as a butcher, William Abel joined with other young men his age and began experimenting with liquor and wild living.
Simultaneous to Abel’s experiences in Ramona at the end of the 19th century, the Ramona Friends Church was founded (1883) and recognized as a monthly meeting in 1892 under the Pasadena Quarterly Meeting. At the time it was the only church in town. William Abel seems to have ignored the existence of this little meeting up until 1897.
In September 1897, Levi Gregory, superintendent of evangelism for California Yearly Meeting, held a three-week series of meetings in the Ramona Friends Church. Somehow, William Abel found himself in one of these meetings. Twenty conversions were reported at the end of the three weeks, and these included one surprised William Abel. There are various versions of his conversion experience, but we’ve yet to find one in his own words.
Subsequently these meetings were referred to in the documents as “the Ramona revival,” and the excitement seemed to go on for at least three years. A report written in 1898 notes that, “We frequently have overflow meetings…. No time for preaching but spontaneous prayers, praise, and testimonies, and hands raising for prayers. Oh, such wonderful love!” Concerning an offering for a new parsonage, the same report goes on, “One Friend put in fourteen acres of grain for the Lord’s work. Another gave the use of twenty acres and plowed it…. A Methodist gave a horse, a young Mexican who was converted at the revivals gave $5.00. Some tithed, others gave work, etc., etc.”
The generous “young Mexican” was probably William Abel. It’s interesting to note that $5.00 would have been his annual wage several years back when he worked as a goat-herder. Abel’s conversion was genuine and the following years found him still among Friends at Ramona, maturing as a new Christian. Abel was around 27 years old at the time of his conversion.
In 1900, Abel moved to Whittier, California to enroll in the new Training School for Christian Workers, a Quaker sponsored offspring of the holiness movement sweeping through the country. (This school would one day evolve into Azusa Pacific University, but that’s another story.) Abel was deeply impacted by his experiences at the school, including contact with Quaker prophet Amos Kenworthy and China missionary J. Hudson Taylor, both speakers at the school. He participated in different ministry opportunities when not in classes, including speaking in different Friends churches. Quaker missionary to Alaska, Dana Thomas, remembers “seeing many large audiences composed of cultured, intelligent people, who were moved in a wonderful manner by this simple native. He was a true Friend, refusing to address meetings where he did not feel the Spirit’s leading.”
In 1902, Abel cut short his studies and volunteered with Peniel Mission. Peniel sent him and a man named C.G. Carson to the Philippines where Abel served for the following 11 years. The few letters he wrote home give scant details of his work as a Bible colporteur and a street preacher. The work was hard, and at the end of these years (1913), Abel returned to California, weakened by malaria and sensing the need for further training. He enrolled again in the Training School for Christian Workers, this time graduating with the class of 1916.
After working in the greater Los Angeles area for over two years to repay his school bills, William Abel was ready for his next missionary adventure. This time the destination was the highlands of Bolivia.  (To be continued.)
(An additional personal note: Several discoveries linked this investigation to us, personally. One surprise was the role that the town of Ramona played in the story. I, Nancy, grew up in Ramona, attended the same elementary school, and found Jesus in the same Ramona Friends Church. The other discovery came as we found the 1916 graduation class photo for the School for Christian Workers. Of the eight graduates, Abel is the tall man in the back row. The young woman second from the left in the front row happens to be my husband’s grandmother. Both Hal’s grandparents, Clyde and Mary Kellogg Thomas were school mates of William Abel.)

Thursday, December 6, 2018

Native American Quaker missionary: the story begins

The fact that one of the first Quaker missionaries to Bolivia was a Native American from Southern California has long fascinated people, myself included. But details of the life and service of William Abel remained largely unknown, and differing versions competed, according to who was telling the story.
So Hal and I spent a year investigating this part of the history of the Bolivian Friends Church (INELA). Our travels took us to university and mission archives in California and Indiana, the city museum and school district records in Ramona, California, the Indian museum in San Pascual, California, and the Kumeyaay Indian Reservation in Valley Center, also in California. Mysteries still remain, but we were able to unearth a good part of the story.
William Abel (probably not his original name) was born a member of the Kumeyaay Indian tribe on the tribe’s lands in San Pascual, California. The year was likely 1870, although Abel himself was never sure when he was born. This was during a time when white settlers and poachers were gradually taking over land that had been previously given back to the tribe by the US government. Within ten years no more Indians would be living in San Pascual.
While Hal and I were going through the archives at Azusa Pacific University, I found an autobiography written by Abel in the school’s 1900 newsletter. It was one of those historical discoveries that caused me to yell, even though I was in a library. Abel wrote it as a young man and new student in the Training School for Christian Workers, so it only covers his childhood. But it answered some of our questions and provided a wonderful link to the Aymara peoples of Bolivia. Let me share some of his early experience with you.
He writes that he lost both his parents by the time he was eight years old and found himself living for a time with his grandfather in the mountain village of Julian. He notes that he “was left mostly to look after myself.” He goes on to give a brief picture of his ten years in the area around Julian and his work herding first goats, then pigs, and finally, cattle. In his first work herding goats, he says he made his living, “such as it was,” and earned $5.00 a year. This corresponds to the conditions and customs of an indentured child servant, part of California’s legal way of dealing with the Indians. Summing up his misadventures as a child goat herder, Abel writes,
“I didn’t know how to herd goats, and the American for whom I worked was hard on me, oftentimes my flock would wander away from my care. The goats would climb up the mountain, on and on to the highest rock and there lie down. I would follow and by the time I was with them at the top, I would think it was a good place to lie down too. I was tired and while the goats were resting I would go to sleep.
“Sometime when I awoke, my goats would be gone and if I did not bring them home I would have to suffer for it. Once when I lost the flock I was afraid to go again to my master, and so I ran away, after two years as a boy goat herder.”
Abel tells of his next two years herding pigs, noting that “I didn’t know how to herd hogs any better than I did goats.” He goes on to explain the details of being fired from this job, at the probable age of ten: “The occasion of my leaving them [the hogs] was this: I had let them run into the dry foxtail so much that, strange as it may seem, the eyes of many had become destroyed, the eyeballs emptied by the barbs which had pierced them. My master, when he discovered this, accused me of having punched out their eyes with my thumb, and so he fired me.”
Abel writes that his life improved with the next job of herding cattle because he got to ride a horse. He did this for the next several years, and at the age of 18 was freed from his servanthood and made his way to the town of Ramona where he enrolled in the first-grade. He describes this experience: “I did not know my letters, but entered the public school. I was put in the first grade with the little children. I was ashamed, but I staid by and in three years I had passed the sixth grade, leaving the little ones behind, but I worked for it, studying almost night and day.”
Abel also apprenticed himself to a local butcher and in a few years learned the trade and opened his own butcher shop. It was all quite an accomplishment for an orphaned Indian boy who had been pushed off his tribal land and spent his childhood as an illiterate indentured child servant. We don’t know where the motivation to become educated and learn a trade came from, but it would not stop there.
As I read this, I was aware of the similarities of experience between the Kumeyaay and the Aymara, although a continent apart. The Aymara of Bolivia are a herding people (among other things) and have a history of loosing their ancestral lands and being marginalized. Universal education for Aymara kids is a recent reality, not part of their history. The list could go on.
I will continue with the William Abel story, the Quaker part, in the next blog.