Wrestling the tensions between gospel and culture

Last weekend we presented the first half of the consultation on “The Gospel and Culture in the Aymara Context.” About 60 people showed up to the event held in the large meeting room in the basement of the New Jerusalem Friends Church in La Paz. People are vitally interested in the topic at this time in Bolivian history where the government, led by an indigenous president, is pushing people back to their animistic roots.  How to be an Aymara and a follower of Jesus is not an easy question.

The team of people leading this event have chosen to call it a consultation rather than a seminar or conference, with the idea that we bring people together to share their experiences, reflect on some key passages in the Bible, learn some tools of discernment, and together listen to what the Spirit is saying to the church at this time, in this place.

A highlight for me was hearing from Romualdo A. on Friday evening, followed by a question and answer time between him and Hal on Saturday. Romualdo is an Aymara pastor, president of his denomination, and director of a Christian publishing company. He lives in a rural community just outside of La Paz and has successfully juggled being a follower of Jesus with fulfilling community obligations. At one point he was elected “Jiliri Mallku” of the community, the top leadership position. He felt he had to accept, but told people he was a Christian and would not be able to participate in some of the obligatory animistic rituals or share in the drinking (a religious obligation). He did not resign his pastorate, as other pastors have done, but managed to serve his term of office in a way that earned the respect of the community. He has gone on to carry out other civic roles, seeing this as a service to his community.

It’s stories like this that give other Aymara Christians hope.

The participants in the consultation are seated at tables and after each presentation, people discuss the ideas in their table groups. These small groups are the heart of the consultation, the place where people talk, apply the concepts to their situations, and do the hard work of theological reflection.

It’s been good so far, but not entirely smooth. Last minute logistical snags, the traditional disrespect for time and schedule, the cold that permeates the meeting room all contribute to a sense of chaos. But I trust it’s creative chaos. Toward the end of Saturday’s all day marathon, one young man stood up and said he was mad, that the consultation was not meeting his expectations, that he needed answers and so far we hadn’t given any. Aymaras are action oriented, so his frustration was not unusual. But we who have planned and prayed and are now leading have deliberately decided not to try and give answers. This may be hard for some to understand. We hope we are providing tools for discernment, helpful information about government laws and guaranteed human rights, biblical insights and testimonies of people like Romualdo who are finding their way through the tensions between Gospel and culture. I think the process is working, but this is hard work. We really need the Spirit to show up.

We have this week to continue to prepare and pray. On Friday and Saturday we conclude the consultation. Our prayer is that people will not only have tools for discernment but renewed hope. And a word from the Lord.

The Coca-Cola Law

Since arriving in Bolivia last week we have learned of two new federal laws. The first, the Coca-Cola Law, degrees that as of December 21 (summer solstice—an important indigenous ceremonial day), Coca-Cola will be banned in Bolivia. On pain of arrest and jail time, no one can buy, sell, own or drink Coca-Cola, that dark devil liquid produced by the evil empire of the north. Seriously.

But in the meantime, ads for the drink continue to dominate bill boards and TV time, announcing to all citizens that Coca-Cola is the “chispa de la vida” (the spark of life). When I asked why the government was permitting the ads, my friend told me it was to help the supermarkets, small business owners and restaurants that need to get rid of a huge inventory before December 21. On that date, the spark of life will leave Bolivia.

This reminds me of the time in the 1980s when MacDonald's left Bolivia. This time it was at the instigation of the company, having determined its profit margin was not large enough in Bolivia. The government was not involved. MacDonald's had become a prestigious gathering place for Bolivia’s youth, and the company’s decision stung. I remember newspaper headlines lamenting, “MacDonald's! Why Have You Abandoned Us?”

I’m not seeing any public laments over the exit of Coca-Cola, and that may have something to do with the second new law. This one is more serious. It’s an anti-discrimination law, directed against a real problem of racial and ethnic discrimination that has plagued Bolivia ever since the Spaniards discovered her. Now, with an indigenous president and more even ethnic representation in congress than ever in the country’s history, some of the ancient wrongs are being righted. Yet people continue to carry their prejudices. And express them. This is the point the new law addresses.

It is now against the law to insult or verbally discriminate against anyone of another race, social class or ethnic group. Of course, such discrimination is never right, but turning verbal expression into a crime is dangerous in itself. Recently several newspaper and television reporters have been arrested for publicly criticizing the government. The government agents involved claimed, on the basis of the new law, that these reporters were verbally discriminating against them.

My friend warned us not to criticize the government while we were in La Paz, or to mention anything that might be considered discriminatory during our consultation on the gospel and culture. This conversation took place in a barrio restaurant, as we sat there, wondering about the future of the country, sipping our cokes.

Dreams, drama and a thesis defense

Sergio da Silveira began the presentation of his thesis with a story. As an idealistic young man he had just graduated from the state university in Rio de Janeiro with a major in Portuguese literature. His dream was to go on and get his masters degree in literature, but there was an obstacle. He sensed God calling him to become a missionary.

Sergio chose to follow God and he gave up his academic dreams. For over 30 years now he has been involved in missions, first as a Brazilian missionary to Bolivia, and more recently as director of a program that trains Brazilian missionaries in Bolivia before sending them on to their final destination in Africa or the Middle East.

He told us that this afternoon, God was fulfilling his original dream. He was here to defend his masters thesis, not in literature, but in mission.

When Sergio speaks, all his Brazilian passion and flare for the dramatic come to the forefront. This was probably one of the most entertaining thesis defenses I have sat through. Sergio doesn’t just speak; he preaches, and although this was a formal academic event, he preached his way through it, accompanied by broad gestures and dancing feet. After he informed us that his research was qualitative and descriptive, based on empirical data obtained from case studies, he paused, then exclaimed, “Isn’t this marvelous?” At another point he explained, “Don’t be alarmed. This is my natural way of talking.” An occasional “amen” and “hallelujah” punctuated the 45 minute presentation, which had to be sped up at the end to include his conclusions. We were all panting. This was followed by 45 minutes of questions from the panel of judges. Sergio’s style didn’t change.

I love the origins of the word “enthusiasm.” It combines the Greek words for “in” and “God,” and one might say it meant, “infused with God.” That describes Sergio yesterday. I know the long road he walked to get to this point and the triumph it represents. Academic propriety can just go out the window sometimes. I didn’t miss it.

In his research Sergio was evaluating the effects of the intermediary training program that prepares Brazilian missionaries for their future service. He was motivated by the fact that well over half of Brazilian missionaries sent abroad encountered problems so severe they quit and came home before their first term ended. The program Sergio directs places missionary candidates in places of ministry in Bolivia as part of their training, hoping that experience in a culture that is a little different from Brazil will help prepare them for their posts in Africa or the Middle East. In the cases he studied from a 15 year span, over 70% of the 54 candidates were able to persevere in their new posts. Hopefully Sergio’s research will encourage his mission agency to continue this type of preparation.

It certainly encourages us. Hal was Sergio’s mentor and has had to work with him long distance for the past several years. He graduates from the masters-in-mission program we founded and directed at the Universidad Evangelica Boliviana. Even though we are no longer there, it’s good to know that the process works, and that our students are making significant contributions.

 Sergio passed his defense. We all went home tired but content. Today he is back to work, full of enthusiasm, one dream accomplished, many others ahead. Thanks be to God.

On being an expert

Hal and I are once again in the throes of preparation for a trip to Latin America. This time we will be in Bolivia for the month of September. The big event is a consultation we are calling “The Gospel and Culture in the Aymara Context,” and seeks to address one of the crucial issues Aymara Christians face in this time of an indigenous revitalization movement. The Bolivian Friends Church (an Aymara church) invited us to lead this consultation, partly based on Hal’s anthropological background and years of experience among Aymara peoples. We strongly sense God’s leading and have been preparing for some time now.

It’s turning into a very participatory event, with five sponsoring organizations and many leaders. Hal is the coordinator, always a challenge when done over the Internet, but things seem to be coming together.

We received the event poster this week, and it’s impressive. But we are having a very Quaker reaction. It features us as the special invited guest experts and makes it clear that we have our doctorates, thus, I suppose, qualifying us to lead. Actually, what excites us about this consultation is the level of participatory leadership. What up-front leading is done will be shared with six others, all of whom are Bolivian, five of whom are Aymara, all of whom could be called “experts” in the topics they will be sharing. And most of the work of the consultation will be done by all the women and men who show up, bringing their own experiences, concerns and dreams.

The poster gives the idea that we’re coming to lecture. Some of my least favorite words include “lecture,” “expert,” and “doctor.” In Spanish the word for “lecture” is “ponencia,” and is linguistically related to “imponer,” or “impose” in English. It’s what the expert doctor, usually someone from outside the context, comes to do to the passive but eager learners. Ouch.

Okay! Okay!  So I’m exaggerating a little. My Quaker preference for understatement is now clicking in.  But I do wish the publicity could underscore the names of all the people who are giving time and leadership. And someone needs to warn people that they are coming to work, not passively listen to lectures.

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on us all.

On accepting our losses courageously (and hairlessly)

I love St. Francis de Sales. Although his classic, Introduction to the Devout Life, was originally published in 1609, I continue to find in it grace for living today. But maybe the real reason I like this book so much is that it makes me laugh. I don’t know if St. Francis deliberately sprinkled his writing with jokes, or if it’s the clash of cultures and centuries that so tickles my funny bone, but his metaphors and comparisons are often so strange that I’m frequently doing double-takes and asking, is this monk crazy? Or sometimes his analogies are just slightly askew, and I wonder, did he really mean that? 

Here’s one of those passages that caused a double-take. The subject is serious, but…

“If you meet with losses that impoverish you either very much or a little, as in the case of tempests, fires, floods, droughts, thefts, or lawsuits, that is the proper time to practice poverty by accepting your losses meekly and patiently and by courageously submitting to such impoverishment. Esau presented himself to his father with his hands covered with hair, and Jacob did the same, but because the hair on Jacob’s hands did not belong to his skin but only to his gloves it might be taken away without injuring his skin. On the contrary, the hair on Esau’s hands adhered to his skin, which was naturally very hairy, so if anyone had tried to pluck it off it would have hurt him and he would have cried out, been angry, and defended himself. Thus when our worldly goods cleave to our hearts, what complaints, what trouble and what impatience do we fall into if a storm, a thief, or a cheat takes any part of them away from us. When our goods do not cleave to our hearts and we think of them only because of such care as God wants us to have for them, we don’t lose reason or peace of mind if they are taken away from us. Hence the difference as to clothing between men and beasts. The garments of beasts, namely, their skins, adhere to their flesh, while those of men are merely put on them and can be taken off at will.”

Thinking in the same logical vein, I wonder if women are better able to accept losses than men because women shave their legs.