Showing posts with label communication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label communication. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Intentional ambiguity and Quaker process



A good friend of mine, when asked what his spiritual gift is, usually replies, “I have the gift of ambiguity.” I wish I had thought of that first.
It’s been over a week since yearly meeting, and as I reflect back on the hopes and expectations I had versus the actual experience, the word ambiguity stands up and takes a bow. Our discussions on human sexuality took place in an atmosphere of mutual respect. And while we were not able to “lay aside” our own perspectives and just listen to the Lord as instructed by the clerk, no voices were raised. In the end we were not able to come to consensus (OK, OK! I know Quakers don’t use that word!) on the re-wording of the statement in Faith and Practice, so the old statement stands. It stands, even though we’re all aware that we don’t agree on its content.
It seems we’re still in a holding pattern, a place of continuing ambiguity.
When our superintendent asked for a five-year moratorium on any “sudden movements” around this issue—meaning, I suppose, no churches leaving or being expelled—while we slowly continue the conversation, I thought that this was, indeed, the word of the Lord, the path forward. But it appears that even this admonition has engendered controversy. So, back to ambiguity.
Is that so bad?
It reminds me of a term I discovered in my graduate research. I integrated the disciplines of theology, anthropology and linguistics as I explored the cultural ramifications of writing about God in the different contexts of the church. (Let me insert here that I had so much fun doing this research that the legality of the academic degree I received is probably dubious.)
 While most of my case studies were conducted in contemporary cultures, I did one biblical study of the book of Ruth as effective communication in the context of its original receptors. As part of that study, I researched the communicational values of the Hebrew culture. And I discovered the concept of “intentional ambiguity.” Good communication in the Hebrew culture does not answer all the questions or tie up all the loose strings. It leaves you wondering, pondering, asking God what it all means.
This value affected all the writers of the Old and New Testaments. While the New Testament wasn’t written in Hebrew, its speakers and writers were Jewish and had Jewish values as part of their cultural DNA. Even Jesus.
One might ask, if God really wanted to clearly communicate with humanity, why did God choose the Hebrew culture as a channel, ambiguity and all? I think of the old poem, “How odd of God to choose the Jews.” You’d think God would elect a culture that has popular sayings like, “Come to the point!” “Say what you mean and mean what you say!” “Quit beating around the bush!” That’s us, folks. My dad said all those words to me, and transmitted those values into my brain.
But God chose a culture that values intentional ambiguity as a communication style.
It all gives me pause whenever I hear a brother or sister say, “But the Bible clearly says that…!” Actually, it’s not always that clear on the details. Intentionally so.
In some ways we Quakers are like the Hebrews. Quaker process, however you define it, seems to allow for slow movements and time to let the Spirit work. This may clash with the values of our surrounding culture, but so much of Quakerism does. Or speaking more broadly, many of the values of the whole kingdom of God clash with whatever culture we happen to swim around in.
So here we are at the end of yearly meeting again, still immersed in ambiguity. I guess that means we have to keep waiting, keep listening, keep talking to each other.
And keep on hoping for a clear word from the Lord.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

The Little Red Hen strikes again



About 25 years ago in La Paz, Bolivia, I gave a class in a Friends Women’s Conference that has haunted me down through the years. I taught the class in Aymara, thanks to the patience of my language teacher and hours of practicing the lovely raspy sounds. Knowing the Aymara’s love for their own animal stories (the rascally fox, the astute humming bird, the deceitful condor), I chose to tell the American folk tale of the hard working little red hen who tried in vain to get the other barnyard animals to help her with her work that went from sowing the wheat to baking the bread.
As I mimicked the sounds of the cow, the sheep, the pig and the llama coming up with all sorts of excuses, the ladies laughed until they cried. Their reactions surprised me. Then I related the story to us women in the church and the need to be hard-working (another Aymara value) like the little red hen, not lazy like the other animals. I went on to teach about spiritual gifts and the Spirit’s help as we do God’s will.
I gave that class several times in different areas of the country, accompanied by a flip chart with my silly animal drawings, and always with the same enthusiastic result. It was the most fun I’ve ever had teaching a class.
Much time has passed since then. Recently we find ourselves visiting La Paz several times a year on different assignments. What has amazed both Hal and me is how many old ladies come up to me and tell me their memories of the little red hen. (I taught lots of other classes on biblical women, on the Christian family, etc., etc., etc. No one mentions—or probably remembers—those. What is it about that hen?)
It happened again last week. Our old friends Ildefonso and BrĂ­gida invited us to their home, and we had lunch with them, two of their five kids, and BrĂ­gida’s parents who have come to live with them. As we were sharing memories of experiences our families shared together, the Grandmother piped up in Aymara and began talking about the little red hen. She not only remembered details of the story, she summarized the lesson about working hard for Jesus in the church. That was 25 years ago.
It’s wonderful when cross-cultural communication works. I’m always amazed. And I continue to wonder—what is it about that chicken?

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Don't touch the gringos!

We arrived back in Oregon just a few days ago, and yesterday we welcomed our son David and his family, just home from Rwanda where they serve with Evangelical Friends Mission. A whole lot of hugging went on at the airport! These last two days I have been walking around wearing this huge smile that just won’t go away, knowing that for a year at least I’ll have my family all around me.

Speaking of hugging, I want to reflect on a conversation I had our last day in Costa Rica. We were saying our goodbyes to students and colleagues, knowing that we probably would not be seeing some of them again, especially the students of the 2009 cohort group. At one point Angela Durigan, a Brazilian Nazarene pastor, put her hand on my face and just looked at me. It was a beautifully affectionate gesture. And then she said, “I hope this doesn’t offend you. I know we’re not supposed to touch North Americans.”

Now that took me aback! Angela quickly added, “I know that’s not true of you.” I’m glad she recognized that. After a life time of service in Latin America, many of our natural preferences and reactions are more Latin than gringo. But in the conversation that ensued, she told me that part of the training Brazilian Christians receive for cross-cultural ministry is the warning to give North Americans plenty of space and not to touch them more than is absolutely necessary. Discrete formal handshakes are fine, but keep those Latin American abrazos for Spanish- or Portuguese-speaking colleagues.

I hate stereo-types. And while most cultural stereo-types are partially based in fact (North American Caucasian culture does indeed emphasize personal space), it’s the unthinking application of the stereo-type to all persons that causes damage. Actually, there are more personal differences within a given culture than there are personality or preference differences between cultures.

I think of other stereo-types I’ve struggled with. Are all Quakers naturally quiet and peace-loving by nature? (Thank God for the feisty prophets among us. Even extroverts can live out the peace testimony.) And what comes to mind with the label “missionary”? I’ve wrestled with that stereo-type all my life.

I think of the stereo-types we currently face, particularly that of “undocumented Hispanic immigrant.” May God help me—us—step beyond the stereo-types to see people that he created and gifted and called to lives of service. May he enable us to cross the cultural barriers and form friendships with those of different backgrounds.

I thank God for Angela and her expressive ways. All those goodbye hugs—as well as the daily greeting hugs—still warm me in memory. And I’m glad for friends who hold warnings such as “Don’t touch the gringos!” with a grain of salt.

Monday, May 31, 2010

On reading the Bible aloud

A description from Alan Patton’s novel, Cry the Beloved Country (1942)


“Msimangu opened the book, and read to them first from the book. And Kumalo had not known that his friend had such a voice. For the voice was of gold, and the voice had love for the words it was reading. The voice shook and beat and trembled, not as the voice of an old man shakes and beats and trembles, nor as a leaf shakes and beats and trembles, but as a deep bell when it is struck. For it was not only a voice of gold, but it was the voice of a man whose heart was golden, reading from a book of golden words. And the people were silent, and Kumalo was silent, for when are three such things found in one place together?”