Windows on cross-cultural servanthood

I have the joy of announcing another new book. The complete title is Windows on cross-cultural servanthood: A tribute to Betty Sue Brewster, and the entire book is available online as the current issue of the journal, Global Missiology,Vol. 1, No 4. Edited by Jude Tiersma Watson and Georgia Grimes Shaw, this is a different kind of festshrift to honor Betty Sue Brewster upon her retirement from Fuller Theological Seminary. Like Betty Sue, it’s unconventional and practical, a narrative record of the experiences of fifteen women who have given their lives to cross-cultural ministry. I contributed one chapter, as well as the preface, which I will reproduce here:

Preface to Windows on cross-cultural servanthood: A tribute to Betty Sue Brewster

This is a green book.  We chopped down no trees in order to produce it. In fact, it’s not even a book, strictly speaking. In contrast to the traditional “festschrift,” the editors decided early on to publish these essays as part of an on-line journal, thus making them accessible worldwide. Generosity is a green virtue.

There is another reason why we call this collection of essays green. We offer it in honor of Betty Sue Brewster, whose maiden name just happens to be Green. In some way all the writers reflect the influence of Betty Sue’s life and contributions.

A deeper reason for calling this volume green runs beneath the surface, an underground stream feeding its roots. I’m reminded of a song Kermit the Frog used to sing: “It’s Not Easy Being Green.” Our family sang along with Kermit, partly because of a metaphor circulating in the missionary community, a teaching tool to help missionary kids understand and accept the tensions of living cross-culturally. David and Kristin found insight and comfort knowing that they were a unique combination of the culture they grew up in and called home (Bolivia) and the culture their parents came from (the USA) and drug them back to periodically on those unnatural vacations known as “furloughs.” It’s like what happens when you combine the primary colors, yellow and blue. You end up with green. Our kids came out neither totally Bolivian (yellow) or totally of the USA (blue).  They’re green. And while it may not be easy being green, it’s good. All pilgrims are green.

The metaphor doesn’t apply just to children of missionaries. All people who work incarnationally in cross-cultural mission become changed.  Incarnational mission is a concept and practice that Betty Sue and her husband Tom pioneered, practiced and passed on to following generations.  It’s a concept that is fleshed out in the essays in this collection.  It reflects the lives of people who have integrated home culture with the cultures of the world as they seek to live out Kingdom values in mission practice.  It reflects people who have become green.

There is yet another link to the color green.  You’ll notice that all the authors are women. This is intentional. Betty Sue championed women as leaders in mission. Granted, she did this in her own quiet, gentle manner.  But gentleness does not equate weakness. In the case of Betty Sue (and the writers of this collection), gentleness expresses itself in strength, identification, relationship, creativity, narrative and the deep values of the Kingdom of God. Some would say that these feminine traits are more naturally green—conducive to walking gently over the earth—than are the aggressive masculine traits sometimes associated with mission. These stereotypes bear more than a grain of truth (but are probably not fair to men).

At any rate, this is a green “book,” full of stories written by women in mission, encouraging us to walk gently, thoughtfully and respectfully as we journey cross-culturally. And it aptly honors one who showed us how.

Latin American Friends write

Bringing a new book to the light of day is similar to birthing a child. Both experiences spring from pleasure and pain, and both can involve intense labor. I labored with this book for three years, but it’s here and it’s beautiful. De encuentro a ministerio: la vida y fe de los Amigos latinoamericanos (From Encounter to Ministry: The Life and Faith of Latin American Friends) springs from a series of workshops on narrative writing jointly sponsored by the Friends World Committee on Consultation (Section of the Americas) and Northwest Yearly Meeting in 2009 and 2010.

Some 57 Quakers from Central and South America participated in the workshops, and 23 actually submitted their stories for publication in the book. These include women and men, pastors and lay persons, seasoned Friends and young people, experienced writers and some who are seeing their first publication in this book.  They come from Bolivia, Peru, Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras, and all represent a Latin American Quaker perspective on life and faith.

The stories sparkle. Although they represent a variety of experiences, similar threads weave through the text: a vibrant faith in Jesus, a commitment to hear and obey the word of God, and a shared fellowship as Friends. Gaby Maita (Bolivia) writes about her experience of Christian conversion in an animistic and hostile context. Ricardo Jovel (El Salvador) shares his story of finding faith through a series of crisis situations that began with a car accident. David Bercian (Guatemala) writes of God’s protection during a time of political and civic unrest. Teodoro Alanquía (Peru), the oldest participant in the workshops, writes of his conversion and ministry experience as one of the early believers in the Peruvian Friends Church. María Carcomo (Honduras) shares fascinating details of a year in the life of a Friends minister. These are just samples.

Monday evening in Santa Cruz, Bolivia, we dedicated the book in a small worship service. Four of the authors were present, and it was so good to share in their delight and sense of accomplishment. Our prayer is that the book encourage Latin American Friends with the beauty of their heritage. I’ve already begun on an English translation. I want English-speaking Friends everywhere to know these people and to sense the contribution that they bring to the Quaker movement worldwide.

Meet Maud

Certain inconveniences of life in Bolivia have actually endeared themselves to us through the years. I write this tongue-in-cheek, but it’s true. The cobblestone streets, the rattle-trap busses, the heavy blankets that make going to bed seem more like being buried—the list goes on and on. These are life-style quirks that make us smile.

I put electric shower-heads on this list. We are currently staying at a hostel in the upper section of La Paz, near the New Jerusalem Friends Church. Like most hostels (and homes) this one does not have hot running water. Here is where the electric shower-head comes in. This device houses electric coils that heat up, allowing the water that flows through them to become somewhat hot. “Somewhat” is a key word here. When the water pressure is sufficient, the coils automatically switch on. When the pressure lowers, they switch off. This all happens quickly. In a hostel, water pressure varies depending on how and when other people in the building are turning water off or on.

I suppose one could consider it a rich sensual experience. In rapid succession, the water goes from tepid to cool, back to tepid and up to somewhat (that word again) warm. If the pressure gets too low, the coils switch off and you have to quickly turn the pressure up before the water becomes icy. This is tricky and you will most likely have to fiddle with the faucet before you reach a temperature that approaches lukewarm. And once you get there, someone in the next room turns on his faucet.

We’ve named our present shower Maud. Personalizing the thing helps us focus on the humor rather than the inconvenience. “Shower” in Spanish—“la ducha”—is a feminine noun, which helped us name her. But something else convinced us of her femininity. Maud is clearly going through menopause. While normally providing us with water ranging from cool to tepid, she occasionally has these glorious hot flashes. For a few seconds, I can actually imagine that I’m home in my own comfortable, convenient, and consistently hot shower in Newberg, Oregon. It never lasts long, but I’ll take what I can get. Way to go, Maud!

La Paz: city of uncertain peace

Today is our last day in La Paz. Early tomorrow morning we head down to the tropical city of Santa Cruz, adding about 40 degrees to the temperature, plus a much welcomed increased percentage of oxygen in the air. I’ve been looking forward to breathing again.

Our16 days in La Paz have been good, but as usual this lovely city has not lived up to her name. On the social and civic level, the background music for our stay has been fire crackers that recently upgraded to dynamite. We are in the middle of a civil war between two groups of Bolivian miners: those employed by the government since the nationalization of the mines and those belonging to the labor unions. Both groups are claiming rights to the Colquiri mine in the mountains south of La Paz. The government has made promises to both groups and it is finding it difficult to reconcile these promises. There have been marches and clashes, with some causalities in the center of the city. Roads to other parts of the country have been blocked. (We’re told that the road to the airport is still open. We hope it stays that way.)

This is not strange. With the radical changes to the Bolivian constitution and the increasing participation of the indigenous populations in government, this is a time of major transition. Transitions never happen smoothly, so much of this is to be expected.

Our consultation on gospel and culture officially ended on Saturday, but we are all realizing that this conversation is a beginning. Aymaras are action-oriented, and the expectations for this gathering were solid conclusions as to how Christians are to respond to the cultural pressures. Good things happened during the consultation, mainly that people with differing perspectives were willing to come together, share their experiences, search the Scriptures, and try to find a way forward. In the concluding session, several expressed dissatisfaction that they were not given ANSWERS. As those of us in the leadership team are evaluating the event, we are more and more positive about the steps taken and the plans for further conversations. The complexity of the issues demands time and serious reflection, and hopefully this will lead to principles for action and behavior. More and more we are seeing the tensions in Bolivia today as fertile ground for mission through service.

But the uneasiness of so many of the participants adds to the lack of peace surrounding us these days.

Another ingredient in our dis-ease is bad news. A few nights ago we received news of the death of Jon Holt, our pastor’s husband, and our friend.  This was unexpected. We know we are supposed to be here in La Paz right now, but we wish we could be home to help bear the burden and share the grief in person. We wonder what the church service was like yesterday. We shared in both the grief and the prayers, but doing this long distance is lonely.

So here we are, our last day in this city of uncertain peace, surrounded by situations that would normally rob us of peace. Yet we sense the presence of Jesus, hear his voice, sense his love, and his peace is with us. Who can explain it? We’re grateful.

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.