Remembering Bill Cathers

Bill Cathers died last weekend. As we were with him in late December, we sensed it would be the last time. But the news is still hard, and we wish we were not so far away.

Hal and I met Bill and Irene 46 years ago in Arcadia, California when we were part of the Arcadia Friends Church. Those were exciting times when God’s Spirit moved among so many of us. Richard Foster was the youth pastor. Bill was sort of a Christian guru to a large group of us young adults. He and Irene adopted us into their large family of six kids.

We became pregnant with our first child. One evening as we were praying together, Bill came under the Spirit and prophesied that the baby was a boy and that he would grow up to become a man of God. After we brought David home from the hospital, it struck us both as funny how relieved Bill was that the baby really did turn out to be a boy. He was also delighted that David was born on August 20, his own birthday.

In late 1971, the Cathers saw us off as we began our journey to Bolivia as new missionaries. We kept in touch through letters, and always spent time together when we came home on furloughs. It helped when the Cathers moved from Southern California to Newberg, Oregon. When home from Bolivia, we made it a habit to spend Sunday evenings up at the Cathers farm. We watched the Cathers kids grow up, and they were alongside us as David and Kristin found their places in life. We shared the joys of becoming grandparents and (they) great-grandparents.

This long term friendship helped give stability to our lives, as well as joy. Bill was to us a mentor, counselor, prayer partner, co-conspirator in mischief, fellow poet, and friend.

He spent the last few weeks of his life in an intensive care home, and we were able to visit a few times, noticing how fast he seemed to be slipping away, a once highly articulate man losing his ability to arrange words in an order that made sense. The last evening we spent with Bill was at the end of December, just a week before we flew to Bolivia. As we came into the room and bent down over his bed, he broke out into a huge grin and reached for our hands. He pulled us down to where he could kiss us and wouldn’t let go. The only word that came out of his mouth was, “Yes!” And he said it over and over. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.” A couple of times he said, “Praise Jesus!” and then it was back to “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

At one point as he was holding both our hands, he said to us, “I love you so much. You’re wonderful!”

Hal had brought his harmonica and we played and sang some of his favorite songs; Bill sort of hummed along. We ended up staying almost two hours. Bill was alert the whole time, full of the joy of the Spirit. It was as if he were preparing to meet Jesus.

I will miss him, but I know he is now whole and young and articulate—but possibly silent in the presence of his Lord. I grieve, but Bill gave me the language for the kind of grief he would have wanted from me. He gave me the word, “Yes.”

If we could say anything to him right now, it would be, “We love you so much. You’re wonderful. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

   Celebrating their 60th anniversary, 2011

The Cathers kids honor their parents, 2011

The light we cannot see

We’ve been in La Paz three weeks now. Yearly Meeting has passed, and Friends are back to work. For me that means hours of going through INELA documents for the 1980s, deciding what might have relevance for that chapter of the history, scanning, transferring to my computer, filing. I’m preparing for the work of analysis and writing I’ll be doing back in the US for the rest of 2016. I hope to bring the project up to 2010 by the end of the year, and I’m beginning to wonder if my goal may be too ambitious. The amount of paper to paddle through is daunting. And that’s even before I get to the archives back home in Newberg.

One of my ways to rest and play is reading, and my iPad is loaded with good books for this trip. One of the best, so far (and probably for the rest of the year), is Anthony Doerr’s All the Light We Cannot See, a book of historical fiction that takes place in France during World War II. The protagonists are two children, a blind French girl and a poor German orphan boy, on opposite sides of the war, both struggling through tragic circumstances, yet with minds-alive, eager to learn. They both manage to find good, the light hidden in this awful time in history.

The title sticks with me and is helping me find my way through the history of Friends in Bolivia. Much of the INELA’s story takes place in a background of oppression and struggle, and some of the internal patterns that emerge are dark. The human side of the church has to be acknowledged. I’m continually asking myself, “Where is Jesus in all of this?” I’m seeking the footprints of the Spirit, the grace that, however hidden, was there at every turn of events.

It helps to identify the evidence of God’s Spirit, alive and well today. Grace sightings. Here are a few that have popped up in these few weeks we’ve been here:

--The faithful, dedicated work of members of our history team, especially Humberto, Felix and Victoria. All the investigative trips out to interview old Friends have borne fruit, but have required sacrifice and hard work. Victoria’s patient work in the yearly meeting archives is finally bringing order out of chaos. (Victoria, above)

--The camaraderie and fellowship our team enjoys. It brings to life the concept that “The joy of the Lord is our strength,” and that this joy is often found in relationships as God’s children work together on a certain task.

--Sharing a meal with Palermo and Olivia, learning how God is helping them overcome economic hardships and build a life for themselves as young professionals. 

--Sharing another meal with Tim and Elise, rejoicing in their new home and how it has opened up for them possibilities of ministry and hospitality. Tim is yearly meeting superintendent and represents a new generation of professional Aymara Quaker leadership. I sense in him the humility to relate to his past with gratitude, even as he moves forward.

--The joy of worshipping in the Aymara language, another vehicle of grace.

--The doves that coo above our door in the early morning. The sound of the hard rains that pound the roof at night.

--Fresh bread, fried country cheese, mangos and papayas any time we want them.

--Sun light illuminating the sides of the city that climbs the walls of this canyon called La Paz. The buildings shine. The distant Andes Mountains rise above them.

Lord, show me your grace, hidden in the ordinariness of life. Show us all the light we cannot yet see in the history of your people here in this place. Open our eyes.

Sharing a meal with Olivia and Palermo

Bolivian Friends (INELA) Yearly Meeting: Reflections

Hal and I landed in Bolivia on January 1 and five days later participated in the opening session of the INELA’s 2016 yearly meeting. (INELA stands for “National Evangelical Friends Church.”) For five days (Jan. 6-10) some 263 registered representatives of all the churches of the INELA gathered in La Paz to worship and conduct business, according to the customs of Friends. Here are some highlights:

--Some considered the final approval of the new Estatutos (equivalent to the Faith and Practice of yearly meetings in the US) to be miraculous. The necessary revision process has been going on for more than 10 years, accompanied by controversy, even agony, and many drafts. We spent several days reading aloud the whole document with its over 100 articles, making observations, and, section by section, approving it by consensus. INELA president, Timoteo Choque, along with the Estatutos committee, will spend much of 2016 obtaining legal government approval of the document, in order for it to come into practice in 2017. Choque’s experience as a lawyer has been most helpful in this whole process.

The new Estatutos affirms the INELA’s status as an evangelical, Christ-centered Quaker yearly meeting, and adds a section that establishes the Quaker principles of simplicity, peace, integrity, community, and equality. It makes major structural changes, putting the executive authority back under one national committee, followed by 15 district executive committees that maintain the broad participatory leadership base of the church.

--Another major change is the formation of a commission (responsible to the national executive committee) for church discipline, called the commission for “Admonition and Restoration.” In contrast to the rather harsh disciplinary procedures of the past, this commission is to emphasize restoration of pastors and leaders who have fallen into some kind of moral problem.

--The annual reports of the national women’s and youth organizations are always a highlight. These groups provide much of the sacrificial energy to carry on the ground-level ministry of church, and the representatives appropriately and enthusiastically affirmed their reports.

--The new social action branch of the INELA, El Buen Amigo (The Good Friend), gave its report which was also received with appreciation and enthusiasm. This group of mostly university and professional volunteers represents the young idealistic branch of the yearly meeting. In many of their projects this past year, they worked alongside the Missions Commission in new areas, conducting medical or dental clinics, teaching, and affirming new believers. They provide a light of hope and an outlet for young people anxious to “do something” for Christ and their society.

I could report on much more, of course. Sunday morning’s concluding worship service began at 8:30 and ended at 1:00. One by one different groups of leaders came forward and were “consecrated” for a new year of service, a ritual that is very meaningful in this context. I was especially moved to see the district executive councils crowding the front of the temple; the 15 districts of the church were all represented, again emphasizing the communal, highly participatory leadership of the INELA. Likewise, the pastors of the 200 congregations came forward to receive words of dedication and encouragement for the new year.

The choir of the New Jerusalem Friends Church (where we were meeting) gave a rousing presentation that included two original Aymara hymns and two historic hymns of the Christian church, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” and “Onward, Christian Soldiers.” The uniqueness of the Aymara Friends Church thus flowed into the greater stream of the Body of Christ throughout the generations. It brought tears.

I confess to sleeping through much of the sermon, the last hour of the service. I’m reasonably sure it was good, given by one of our pastors from the upper city, El Alto. The loud “amens” at the end woke me up, and we all joined in the final song and prayer. And then came the communal meal in the patio behind the church, where different congregations and districts spread their offerings on blankets on the ground. Hal and I went from group to group and ate more than we should have, but it was all good, flavored by the love and dedication of these Andean Quakers.

We are blessed to have been adopted into this family of Friends.

Consecration of women leaders

Consecration of youth leaders

Consecration of leaders of the 15 districts

Prayers of dedication

Sing to the Lord!

Favorite Books of 2015

Right now the suitcases are out, and piles of this-and-that cover the floor. Early tomorrow morning we board the plane for our flight to Bolivia and two months of field work on the history project. An important part of our preparation is making sure our Kindle is loaded up with enough good books to sustain us while we’re away.

Which reminds me, of course, of some of the great books I’ve read this year. I’ve had to pick and choose for this list. Again, it’s not a list of good books published in 2015, but a list of what I especially appreciated of the books I read during the year, whenever they were published.

Fiction:

--Sue Monk Kidd, The Invention of Wings (2014): Based on the history of the Grimké sisters, abolitionists and fighters for women’s rights in the early 1800s. Also part of Quaker history. The heart of the story is the relationship between Sarah Grimké, a slave-owner’s daughter, and Handful, her personal slave.

--Marilynn Robinson, Home (2013) and Lila (2014): These follow Gilead and each focuses on one of the characters who live in the small town of Gilead. Beautifully written. Themes are home and family, grace, sin, repentance, forgiveness, and the possibility of transformation.

--Jenna Blume, Those Who Save Us (2004): A holocaust novel about baring the burden of a hidden story and how the revelation brings forgiveness and grace between generations.

--Dorothy Sayers, Clouds of Witnesses and Whose Body?: I love Lord Peter Wimsey! Once again intelligence and intuition combine to solve the crime. A favorite quote from Clouds has Lord Peter reflecting on his mother: “Time and trouble will tame an advanced young woman, but an advanced old woman is uncontrollable by any earthly force.”

--William Kent Krueger, Ordinary Grace (2014): From the point of view of a 13 year-old boy reflecting on the tragedies in his family. Themes include war and violence, marginalization, and friendship, but once again grace and forgiveness have the final word.

--Ruchama King Feuerman, In the Countyard of the Kabbalist (2013): Fascinating story of the unlikely friendships between an intellectual New Yok Jew, a firey Jewish woman in Jerusalem, a Kabbalist, and a poor Muslim worker, all involved in the discovery of an ancient relics site near the Dome of the Rock and the question of who owns it. “If I tell you my story, you will listen for awhile and then you will fall asleep. But if, as I tell you my story, you begin to hear your story, you will wake up.”  “Nobody knows who he is until he tells his story to God….”

--Helen Simonson, Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand (2011): Good romance about two older people who refuse to be limited by other peoples’ (including their own children) concepts about what’s good and proper at their age.

--Anne Tyler, Dinner at the Homesick RestaurantI (1996), Back When We Were Grown-ups (2001), and Digging to America (2007): I keep coming back to Anne Tyler’s novels.

--Darragh McKeon, All that Is Solid Melts into Air (2014): Fascinating story about different people affected by the Chernobyl disaster in 1986. Brings in the tragic and heart-breaking human factor.

--Jacqueline Winspear, Maisie Dobbs (2003), Birds of a Feather (2004), and Pardonable Lies (2005): Another woman detective with wit and humor, a British version of Botswana’s Mma Ramotswe (who is actually herself a British version of an African detective). This has been the year of British detective novels!

Non-Fiction:

--Lamin Sanneh, Called from the Margin: Homecoming of an African (2012): More of an accounting of the development of his thought than of his life experiences. I loved the section on his Muslim childhood and conversion to Christianity without being “evangelized,” his rejection by Christians, his encounters with the West and his eventual conversion to Catholicism. He brings together the pieces of his life, staying African, yet finding his true home in Christianity.

--Dominika Drey, The Twelve Little Cakes (2006): Memoir of growing up in communist Prague, the child of dissidents. Chronicles the joys of childhood in spite of the oppressions surrounding the family. “The system was unfair but the human spirit triumphed on a daily basis….”

--Joahua Wolf Shenk, Lincoln’s Melancholy: How Depression Challenged a President and Fueled His Greatness (2005): Excellent and well documented study of Lincoln’s depressions, set in the context of contemporary perceptions of mental health and its treatment. I was interested that two ways Lincoln coped with his predisposition to depression were humor and poetry.

--Leanne Payne, Heaven’s Calling: A Memoir of One Soul’s Steep Ascent (2008): Her awakening to a healing ministry, through experiences, relationships, experimentation.

--Katherine Patterson, Stories of My Life (2014): I love reading the memoirs of writers I love, and Patterson’s book did not disappoint. Her early experiences in China and Japan, daughter and then wife of missionaries, and the struggles with adaption to life in the West certainly enriched her spirit and, consequently, her writing.

--Phillip Yancey, Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference? (2006): This was a re-read of a book I need to re-read every year. Very insightful and motivating and I try to learn to pray in ways that might make a difference.

--Joy of Zentangle: Drawing Your Way to Increased Creativity, Focus, and Well-Being: Putting aside the hype of the title, zentangle is so much fun! The “Joy” part of the title is correct.

Poetry:

--William Jolliff, Twisted Shapes of Light (2015): Possibly my favorite book of the year, a collection written by a friend and Friend, bringing together memories of life on a farm, family, and growing up in a fundamentalist church. Bill should be more famous than he is.

--Billy Collins, Aimless Love—New and Selected Poems (2013): I love how Collins uses humor to do social criticism and explore reality and relationships.

--T.S. Elliot, Four Quartets (1943): I love this book, even though I can’t say I totally understand it. I love the language, and how Elliot plays with time and eternity. I’ve been reading it over and over, sort of rolling around in the words.

I would love to hear about the books that touched or challenged you in 2015.

Cat in the manger

by U.A. Fanthorpe

In the story, I'm not there.
Ox and ass, arranged at prayer:
But me? Nowhere.

Anti-cat evangelists
How on earth could you have missed
Such an obvious and able
Occupant of any stable?

Who excluded mouse and rat?
The harmless necessary cat.
Who snuggled in with the holy pair?
Me. And my purr.

Matthew, Mark and Luke and John
(Who got it wrong,
Who left out the cat)
Remember that,
Wherever He went in this great affair,
I was there.



My version of the cat in the manger



Chiri at worship

In belated gratitude to my right thumb

I am a frustrated writer. Two of my preferred tools are giving me fits. The first is my computer. The second is the thumb on my right hand.

We’re working through the computer problems, with help from some technicians. Today we’ll install the programs that might solve everything. Or not. Being without this tool for almost three weeks has slowed me down. At least I have a reason other than myself to blame for missed deadlines.

But I must confess that I’m even fonder of my right thumb than I am of my computer. And more miffed at its disloyalty.

Right now, swollen and sore, it reminds me of how much it usually does for me and how dependent I am on it to get through the day. I have to ask Hal to open cans and chop the onion for our evening meal. The car door is too demanding for me to manage, so we’re back to the days of courtship when he did the honors. In a way, that’s nice, but I actually prefer the independence of doing it for myself. All these little ordinary services my thumb has faithfully preformed for me all my life.

To say that having a fat throbbing thumb cramps my writing style is understatement.

So—sorry, thumb, for taking you for granted. Thank you for serving me so well in the past. Please, if you would, come back from this weird vacation and become, once again, my faithful servant.

Sincerely, the rest of your body

A lesson from Joseph

One character in the Christmas story is speaking to me today. It’s Joseph, one of the supporting cast members in this drama. He’s usually in the background, which is one reason I like him. Being a background person myself, I am comfortable around Joseph.

What strikes me today is the inner wrestling match he surely went through after finding out that his Mary was pregnant. The Scriptures say that Joseph, Mary’s soon-to-be husband, was faithful to the law, “and yet….” It’s the “and yet” part that tells me compassion was also part of his character. And now faithfulness to the law and compassion for others go head to head. The law tells him that Mary must be publically exposed and cast off, perhaps even stoned. Compassion reminds him that Mary is still a person worthy of love and respect. So Joseph compromises and chooses to move with gentleness. Out of faithfulness to the law he will end their relationship (and I sense undercurrents of sorrow), but out of compassion he will not expose her but do what he feels he must do quietly. It’s not the perfect solution. But it’s the best he can come up with.

Joseph acts with integrity, and perhaps that’s why he and God are still on speaking terms. God communicates with him by way of an angel in his dreams, tells him that he doesn’t have all the facts. Gives him a way forward that was completely off his radar.

And the story goes on from there.

As I ponder the dilemma facing Northwest Yearly Meeting, I sense the tension within us between faithfulness to the law on the one hand, and compassion for people on the other. Perhaps this is a simplistic view, as my husband would tell me, but I see us as holding these two ideals and wondering how to find our way through without giving up either one. Is it even possible?

And then the Joseph story reminds me that we don’t have all the facts yet (and perhaps never will), but that the same God who told Joseph to marry Mary can also tell us, “This is the way. Walk in it.” It may be a way we have not yet even imagined.

Yes. Come, Lord Jesus. Show us the way.