My friend's house

Last year my friend’s house slid down the hill.  Her name is Petrona and we’ve known each other for 40 years. Our toddlers fought together, later learned to be friends and tell each other secrets. We’ve laughed together, told our own secrets, prayed for each other, and kept up our friendship even when it had to be long distance.  I was able to spend some time with her again last month during our visit to La Paz.

Yes, her house slid down the hill and was completely destroyed, along with several hundred other homes in the hilly barrio of Kalapa on the outskirts of La Paz. Unseasonable rains moved the sandy soil and an entire zone was wiped out. Fortunately there were several weeks’ warning and people were able to move their belongings.

Petrona currently lives in a refugee camp, a temporary village of small wooden structures put together by World Vision. The Bolivian government has promised a small parcel of land to each family that lost their home. The “village” is clean and orderly, with a communal well, bathrooms and a meeting place. The neighbors have organized a small city council.  Petrona has built a tin lean-to kitchen behind her room and settled in for the duration.

Separated from her husband (also our good friend), Petrona lives alone but keeps in touch with her daughters by cell phone. She has managed to get a clerking job in a sporting goods store in the rich section of the city and spends several hours a day in city buses going to and from her work. She likes being busy.  It keeps her mind off her problems.

We embraced, laughed, even shed some joyful tears at our meeting. The hour went by all too quickly. We prayed together before I left, knowing much time would pass before our next meeting.

I’m home again, and it’s Holy Week.  I’m thinking a lot about Petrona, about the differences in our situations. And about all the shared experiences that continue to bring us together. But I can’t get it out of my mind that my friend lives in a refugee camp and I in a condominium.  What a strange world.

Lord, have mercy on us all.

 Terraces where there used to be houses

The camp, bottom right

Friends

Her alley....

Reflections on Friends in Bolivia, Part 2

It’s good to be home.  We left the muggy tropical heat of Santa Cruz on Tuesday morning and arrived in the Portland Airport Wednesday night in a snow storm.  I love it.

I continue reflecting on the Bolivian Friends Church, thankful for insights that came from this time of listening.  In mid-March I shared insights that encourage me.  Here I’ll share concerns.

The first concern comes from the socio-political pressure the church faces. While we found many sources of encouragement, including a new sense of dignity that most indigenous peoples in Bolivia now experience and an economic growth that seems to have trickled down to most of our friends, pressures to conform to animistic religious practices continue.  This especially affects indigenous evangelicals in rural areas and is a source of deep concern to Friends leaders.

The second concern that Friends leaders expressed to us is the lack of a new generation of young men and women called to pastoral leadership among Friends.  This is partly related to the first concern in that government regulations and control make it difficult for pastoral training institutes to operate.  People are prayerfully seeking solutions to this concern.

The third concern is a personal observation about the current isolation of Bolivian Friends. I’m speaking in terms of the greater church and the almost fear of relating to parts of the Body of Christ that aren’t Quaker, that don’t hold the same views (especially on the sacraments), that don’t have the same history or sing the same hymns.   It’s a pattern that I sense somewhat among US Quakers, and while this is not universally true, it’s enough of a pattern to worry me.

This reminds me a little of the dwarves in C.S. Lewis’ final book in the Narnia series, The Last Battle. Refusing to join forces with others, their theme song became, “The dwarves are for the dwarves!”  Friends in Bolivia will grow in strength and courage when they can see that they are a part of the greater Body of Christ.

That’s true of us here as well.

Quakers and kites

Between packing our bags and last minute visits with friends, I am reading Dickens’ David Copperfield on my Kindle. Last night I came across this quote. Aunt Betsey is defending to David the childlike activities of an old friend who lives with her.  She says, “If he likes to fly a kite sometimes, what of that! Franklin used to fly a kite. He was a Quaker, or something of that sort, if I am not mistaken.* And a Quaker flying a kite is a much more ridiculous object than anybody else.”

Now why would anyone think that?

(*She was mistaken.)

Reflections on Friends in Bolivia, Part 1

After two weeks in La Paz, we’re back in Santa Cruz, finishing up interviews with students and leaders, getting ready for the transition back to Oregon. Our time in La Paz was intense.  We were there primarily to listen, and listen we did. It may take some time to absorb it all, but we’re getting a picture of what God is doing among Quakers in Bolivia (INELA), as well as the challenges our sisters and brothers there face.  The following are some reflections:

--I see administrative maturity, after some years of struggle with some difficult governmental regulations and a competitive regionalism that is a part of Aymara culture. In the last yearly meeting sessions in January, leaders representing the different regions (the La Paz highlands and the Santa Cruz lowlands) decided to work for solutions that would both satisfy legal requirements and promote unity in the church. Leaders seem committed to working together for the common good, and this is real growth.

Meeting with leaders of the La Paz Region

--I see a new optimism (faith might be a better word) in the Bolivian Friends Church’s ability to plan and carry forth projects independent of outside funding.  The new meeting house (“temple” is the word used here) on Max Paredes Street gives strong testimony to this faith in action, and this is but one of many such projects.

New Jerusalem Friends Church, INELA offices, clinic, dental office, primary and high school

--I see a new commitment to reaching out in ministry to other areas. A highlight for us was meeting with the La Paz Regional Friends Board to listen to their plans for sending four Bolivian missionary couples to areas of Bolivia that don’t have Friends churches.  We were able to sign an agreement with the Northwest Yearly Meeting Board of Global Outreach contributing 30% toward the costs of the mission project.  While this might seem to contradict the previous observation about financial independence, it really doesn’t.  This is no longer a matter of dependency, but of cooperation between two independent yearly meetings.

Working together in mission

--I saw evidence of a vibrant group of young Quakers.  The yearly meeting youth organization is strong, encouraging activities that bring together young Friends from all regions.  There is growing interest in learning about and strengthening Friends testimonies, such as peace-making, simplicity, equality, and the use of silence in worship.  There is also an enthusiasm for an involvement in holistic mission that would bring together preaching the gospel with ministry to the social needs of people. If young people are the future of a church, Bolivian Friends can look forward with hope.

--We were continually blessed by the hospitality and generosity of our Aymara Friends.  While this is certainly not a new development, we were again made aware of this expression of Bolivian Quakers. We stayed in Aymara homes, ate at Aymara tables, and spent hours listening to stories of how God has been at work in congregations and individual lives.

Sajjta de pollo, my favorite!

We see many examples of Quaker women and men, filled with the Spirit, spending their lives in loving ministry to others, seeking the voice of Jesus, and longing to grow in all ways as the church, the body of Christ (Eph. 4:11-16). There is much to be grateful for.

Carmelo Aspi, Quaker theologian, past president of the INELA, dedicated writer

Salome Huarina, Quaker pastor, theologian, missionary--and one of my favorite people

Living on multiple levels: Santa Cruz version

Right now Hal and I are in Santa Cruz, Bolivia.  As I got up in the darkness just before dawn this morning, the sounds of roosters and tropical birds greeted me. I remembered the rain on the roof sometime in the middle of the night. As the day slowly grew lighter, traffic sounds added their own tones, reminding me that in spite of all the rural atmosphere, this is a city. Taxis and buses, roosters and the parrots flying over the red tile roofs give a decidedly sensuous start to the day.  A new day in Santa Cruz de la Sierra.

 The view from our balcony

This is one of the realities, one of the multiple levels, I am living now: the level of cultural diversity, the sights and smells and sounds of a specific place that both challenges and delights us.  This is part of the richness of life we are so privileged to enjoy.

Speaking of sounds is good way to begin because we are basically here in Bolivia to listen.  It’s been two years since we’ve been in this place where we’ve spent more than 25 years. Our task right now is to listen and learn. What is God doing among Friends in Bolivia? What are the challenges and hopes people carry today?  We are spending time with church leaders and pastors, with people in the Bolivian Evangelical University, and especially with students, friends and fellow disciples of Jesus who have become part of our lives. And this opens us up to levels of reality on both the community and personal levels.  And this is the heart of why we’re here.

A

 Visiting with, Emiliano, one of the pillars of the Friends movement in Santa Cruz

 Helping Sergio put the finishing touches on his masters thesis in mission

As international/intercultural travelers, we are also very aware of living our adventures on the physical level.  This does not get easier with age and experience.  Quite the opposite, our bodies don’t seem to be quite as adaptable to sudden changes of climate and diet.  Although I don’t intend to go into detail about this, it is certainly a reality and one of the multiples levels we experience.  (There are, unfortunately, moments when this is the primary reality!)

Another very real and simultaneous level of reality I’m experiencing has to do with what I’ve been reading. I loaded up my Kindle with great material for this trip, and for the last week I’ve been deeply into Eric Mataxas’ biography, Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy. Dietrich Bonhoeffer is certainly among that “cloud of witnesses” (Heb. 12:1) cheering us on, and I’m learning much from his life and witness, comparing the challenges he faced in German church of the 1930s and -40s with those of the church in Latin American today.  I finished the book last night, and this morning Hal looked at me in surprise and said, “Nancy, you’re crying.”  I hadn’t realized it, but I had been in the middle of an imaginary conversation with Bonhoeffer, trying to process his story by entering into it.

Another level of current experience is family. Our kids and grandkids are never far from our thought and prayers. Thanks to modern technology, we can keep up to date, not only with big decisions, but with the funny things the grandkids say.  Like three-year-old Peter correcting his mother when she told him to “Chew your food up good before you swallow.”  “No, mom,” he responded, “it’s ‘chew my food well’.”  He’s right, of course, but how did he know that?  And why is it important that I know that he knows that?  I’m not sure, but it’s part of my experience today, making me smile each time I think of it.

If I’m beginning to sound a bit schizophrenic, let me say that there is a center that holds all this together.  The good Quaker testimony of Jesus in the midst of his people applies in several senses.  I find that Jesus is also the center that holds all my levels of experience together, the hub that orchestrates all these levels of reality, creating beauty.  I’ve been reading and re-reading the book of Colossians this month, meditating everyday on a verse or phrase. It’s a spiritual discipline that helps me center on Jesus and reminds me that I’m here to listen.  The verse that Hal and I chose for pray for this trip is Col. 3:15, “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts…and be thankful.”

That’s a good note to close on.

Lugubrious times five

I just finished one of my airport-waiting-room novels for this trip: Isabel Allende´s Island Beneath the Sea (2010). Historical fiction, the story takes place in colonial Saint-Domingue, which later became Haiti.  Following the life of a slave woman who faces great challenges with courage and creativity, it gives an insider´s view of slavery in Haiti, as well as in Louisiana.  As usual, Allende tells a compelling story.  The English version is a translation from the original Spanish.

But a funny fact poked me in my literary ribs, something probably no one else would notice. Believe it or not, Allende uses the word lugubrious five times in this one novel.  Five times!

So what, you say? Well, you need to know that lugubrious is not the most popular word in the English—or the Spanish—language.  In fact, its use is so rare that it leaps out at me every time I run across it.

I remember the first time. About twenty years ago Hal and I were reading aloud Jacob Have I Loved, Katherine Paterson’s award winning novel for young people about growing up on a small island in the Chesapeake Bay.  It was Hal’s turn, and as he read, he came across the sentence, “This piano is lugubriously out of tune.”  That stopped us, and he read it again. We rarely pause to look up new words when we read together, especially if the context hints at the meaning. But the sound of this word captured and delighted us.  It’s one of those words that you don’t just say; you chew it out loud.  So we looked it up and again were delighted to discover that lugubrious refers to something exceedingly gloomy or morose.  What a good word to have available if you ever need to say something exceedingly gloomy or morose.  No harm in being prepared. (My delight led me to write a poem in honor of the word lugubrious, which I’ll add to the end of this reflection.)

But it’s true that one doesn’t come across it much in contemporary literature.  So Allende took me by surprise.  Even with a great word, once is probably enough; twice is permissible.  But five times?

Granted, the author wrote in Spanish, and while lúgubre is not common in that language either, it’s used more frequently than its English counterpart.  Even so…..

I would still recommend Island Beneath the Sea. It provides a rich literary banquet. But beware.  The heavy use of words like lugubrious is like adding too many hot peppers to your lunch.  Even with a skillful word chef behind the creation of the dish, you’re apt to burn your mouth.

Mine is still tingling.

*********

A WORD LIKE LUGUBRIOUS 

needs a poem of its own.

Consider the slime and the slink of it,

the slightly sinister wink of its eye

as it peeks from behind potted plants at wakes,

lingers at the altars of Protestant revivals,

or sobs with soap opera heroines.

An irreverent Uriah Heapish word,

a marbles-in-the-mouth sound,

it offers no apologies

for its lumpish singularity.

Some suggestions for everyday use:

--"This piano is lugubriously out of tune."

--"He shed a lugubrious tear

            as she passed him the marmalade."

--"This morning at exactly 5:37,

            a lugubrious lummox was sighted

            at the corner of 11th and Lucerne

            in downtown LA.  We have investigators

            on the scene and will interrupt our broadcast

            to bring up-to-date coverage

            on this fast-breaking story."

--"Not tonight, dear.  I'm feeling lugubrious."

Three brave women

At this writing, Hal and I are in Lima, Peru for two weeks of intensive seminars with our PRODOLA doctoral students. As usual, the highlight for us is getting to know these men and women. In the new 2012 cohort group, we have twelve men and two women. These join seven students from previous cohorts. In the week we’ve already been together, the group has melded into a community of scholars and friends. We’ve become family.

Although in the minority, the women among us make a major contribution in both the class dynamics and in their own research projects. Let me introduce you to three of them.

 Nancy, Eva, Irma and Margarita

As a child, Margarita F. emigrated with her siblings from Mexico to Los Angeles, and she now has US citizenship. Margarita is the first Roman Catholic to become part of PRODOLA. She is strongly drawn to work toward communication and cooperation between all branches of the Christian church, and her perspective adds an important piece to the conversation.

Margarita currently holds the position of Parrish Life Director in the Sacred Heart Church of Los Angeles, basically a pastoral role. She is also active as a life skills coach and advocate for Hispanic immigrants in the greater LA area. As if that were not enough, Margarita is the mother of six. Behind her dynamic personality, as well as her obvious leadership gifts, one senses a kind, compassionate heart. Her ready smile warms and invites others to enter her world. 

Irma E. from Peru has been a missionary among the Candoshi tribal peoples of her own country. She lived among the people for 18 years, speaks their language, and offers a low-key holistic service of presence, teaching, and advocacy. She currently works in support of a Latin American organization, Red Transamazonica, that represents indigenous Amazonian peoples of nine countries. Irma has a special concern to see indigenous Christians doing theological reflection from their own cultural perspectives. Simplicity, compassion, and a great sense of humor combine to make Irma a person other people love to be around, myself included.

Several years ago Hal and I gathered around the dining room table with Eva M. and her husband, Juan.  They were wondering if they should apply to become PRODOLA students. This took place in Santa Cruz, Bolivia, where Juan and Eva serve in Paz y Esperanza, a Christian NGO that works with local churches in marginal barrios, seeking to help the church find concrete ways to minister to the many needs of people around them. Along with other groups, they are currently working with a Friends church.

Juan and Eva entered the PRODOLA program in 2010, and they are here these two weeks to work on their dissertation proposals. I have the privilege of being Eva’s research mentor, so we will be working closely together these next few years. Related to her ministry, Eva wants to do research on women in Santa Cruz who have suffered domestic violence.  She hopes to discover the images of God these woman have, as a key to understanding them more deeply and ministering to their needs.  It’s a fairly complex theme, but with Eva’s background in psychology and theology, she should make a significant contribution toward addressing a wide-spread problem throughout Latin America.

Juan and Eva are fun to be around. They have a four-year-old son, Felipe, whom they’ve left at home with Grandma these two weeks.  In the middle of the intensity of this seminar experience, they still find time to worry about Felipe, hoping he’s not missing them too much (and maybe afraid that he isn’t).

Margarita, Irma and Eva are three valiant women, and I am blessed to call them friends.

They are three of the more than 90 students working on their doctoral degrees in theology, all of them motivated by the needs of people in Latin America. We take PRODOLA’s theme seriously: “More preparation for better service.” May it be so.  What a privilege to be a small part of this movement.