The Friends custom of making “minutes” on current social issues encourages a congregation to think through the complexities. It’s an exercise in deep listening on three levels: listening to the context, listening to each other, listening to the Spirit. While not an easy process, it pushes us to grow.

Such has been the experience of North Valley Friends Church. Many of us in this faith community have relationships with Latinos in our area, some as businessmen, others as teachers and school administrators, all of us as neighbors. The concern for fair and humane treatment, in the face of what seem to be growing injustices, has been gradually increasing among us.

The formation of an “immigration task force” on the yearly meeting level has prodded us. In fact four members of the North Valley congregation have become active in this volunteer group that is seeking to make a difference through information, education, advocacy, and other concrete activities. We’re still finding our way forward.

So, why a minute? That was my first question. Now at this end of the process, I see value in the way it has helped us as a community explore and express our concern. The whole process took three months and involved a small group of people in writing the rough draft (parts of which we borrowed from recent affirmations on immigration reform published by the National Association of Evangelicals and the Friends Committee on National Legislation). The input of many people in two business meetings turned the initial draft from the concern of a few into the expression of the whole church.

We will now use this minute as the foundation for whatever future actions the church decides to take. We are already in a relationship with a new Latino Friends congregation, and are seeking ways to strengthen that tie. We hope to use the minute as we visit the offices of legislators. We plan to publish it in various venues (such as this blog post). And we hope this minute encourages other meetings to take similar steps.

Here is minute itself:

North Valley Friends Church,
Minute on Immigration, January 2010

The community of faith known as North Valley Friends Church in Newberg, Oregon seeks to value and reach out to persons of all races, cultures and social classes. We have a special concern for people marginalized by the dominant culture in the United States. This concern includes the large number of Hispanic/Latino persons in the Northwest, both documented and undocumented. We note the contributions these people are making to the economy and culture of our area, as well as the hardships and discrimination they often face. We recognize that, historically, immigrant status is a shared experience of many people within the United States.

Our concern has a biblical/theological foundation in the creation of human beings in the image of God (Gn. 1) and the dignity that confers on every person. The Bible itself is a book of immigrant stories, including the Old Testament account of the people of God. The Law of Israel makes provision for the care of “strangers in the land,” with reminders that the people themselves were once foreigners in Egypt (Ex. 22:21; Lev. 19:33-34), that immigrants are especially vulnerable and in need of care, and that God loves the foreigner (Deut. 10:18-19). The New Testament adds the concept of the church as a community of sojourners on this earth (Phil. 3:20; 1 Pt. 2:11). Christians are admonished to offer compassion and hospitality to outsiders (Rom. 12:13; Heb. 13:2).

Because of these concerns and our relationships with Hispanic/Latino brothers and sisters in our community and throughout Northwest Yearly Meeting of Friends (Oregon, Washington and Idaho), we at North Valley Friends Church believe there is a need for reform of the current immigration system. We recognize the complexity of the issues surrounding immigration, the importance of national security, and the need for humane treatment of the persons caught in the dilemmas of lack of legal documentation. We see these as moral, as well as spiritual, issues.

We affirm the need for the following:
• That safeguarding and monitoring of the national borders be carried out in a humane fashion and with respect for human dignity;
• That our government establish more functional legal mechanisms for the annual entry of a reasonable number of immigrant workers and families;
• That our government recognize the central importance of the family in society by reconsidering the number and categories of visas available for family reunification, and therefore dedicate more resources to reducing the backlog of cases in process, as well as reevaluating the impact of deportation on families;
• That our government support a refugee and asylum policy that offers meaningful assistance for all of those displaced by conflict, oppression, environmental change, natural disaster, and economic destitution;
• That our government establish a sound, equitable process toward earning legal status for undocumented immigrants already in-country, who desire to embrace the responsibilities and privileges that accompany citizenship.

We call upon leaders in all levels of government to take seriously the need for the reform of the immigration system so that it can begin to reflect the values of freedom, human dignity and opportunity our country was founded upon.

American Christians are generous, no doubt about it. And not only in terms of money. According to recent research (Priest, 2008), over 1.6 million Americans participate yearly in some form of short-term mission, whether as young people from a local church, university/seminary students in a studies abroad program, or professionals wanting to serve overseas for a summer. This is in addition to the many cross-cultural mission ventures that take place within the US. My own faith community, the people called Quakers, is especially generous in this sense.

This practice has a biblical base, given the justice thread that runs throughout Scripture, that emphasizes caring for the poor and marginalized. And no doubt short-term mission has benefited both those on the going/giving end and those who receive. But this generosity has a shadow side.

Last month Hal and I, along with our friend, Fred Gregory, were privileged to lead in the annual Seminar by the Sea, sponsored by Twin Rocks Friends Camp. Our topic seemed a bit daunting, impossible to cover in a weekend: “American Christians—Understanding and Engaging with the World’s New Realities.” We certainly don’t consider ourselves experts, but we do represent three life-times of walking this path. Coming from different perspectives—Hal and I with experience in traditional mission work, Fred with extensive experience in relief and development work through NGOs—we have all come to similar conclusions and grown into similar values.

So we decided to take a narrative approach. We told our stories (or selected pieces), invited the participants to do the same, then facilitated conversation around the issues that surfaced. A good bibliography was part of the process, and many came having read one of the suggested books. Effective—and ineffective—short-term mission experience was one of the themes addressed, since most of those present had participated in an over-seas adventure.

Two books proved especially helpful to this discussion: When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty without Hurting the Poor and Yourself by Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert (Moody, 2009) and Effective Engagement in Short-Term Missions: Doing It Right! edited by Robert J. Priest (William Carey Library, 2008). Both books face the shadow side of Americans serving abroad (“when helping hurts”), but also offer guidance for effective service among the poor, recognizing that the short-term missions movement is probably here to stay.

The potential, and certainly unintentional, damage done through short-term mission has to do with creating dependency and reinforcing the sense of deficiency that most of the world’s poor experience. In part this comes from what Corbett and Fikkert identify as a mistaken view of poverty that limits it to material lack. This in turn encourages ministry in the form of unexamined generosity that does not address root causes and unwittingly reinforces the sense of inadequacy on the part of the receptors.

The authors give their own definition of poverty as “the result of relationships that do not work, that are not just, that are not for life, that are not harmonious or enjoyable. Poverty is the absence of shalom in all its meanings.” They see poverty alleviation in terms of a ministry of reconciliation, which I find refreshingly holistic and biblical. They describe this ministry of reconciliation as “moving people closer to glorifying God by living in right relationship with God, with self, with others, and with the rest of creation.”

Another part of the equation comes from what Corbett and Fikkert term the “God-complexes of the materially non-poor.” That would be us: generous North-American (or European) Christians who, with good intentions, go as experts, ready to share what we have (money, knowledge, skill, materials, etc.) with those who lack these very things. The “God-complex” is largely unconscious. Corbett and Fikkert give the equation for harm as follows: “material definition of poverty + God/complexes of the materially non/poor + feelings of inferiority of materially poor = harm to both materially poor and non-poor.” This may take a bit of pondering, but it merits our serious consideration.

So, how can North American Christians help and not hurt as they travel abroad in mission? Is there some kind of Hippocratic Oath (where new doctors pledge, in part, to do no harm to their patients) we can adapt for short—or long-term mission activists? Following is a partial list, gleaned from experience, reading, and reflection in community. I invite comment and additions to the list.

--Go in humility. We who go out must recognize that we ourselves are broken people with much to learn. And recognizing that there’s not a whole lot we can accomplish in one or two weeks is only common sense.

--Go as learners. While we may have things to share, we are essentially learners, with much to gain from people in the places we travel to.

--Go appreciatively. Regardless of economic or technological challenges, every culture has its richness. Expect to be surprised and delighted. If possible, prepare by acquiring tools of observation.

--Focus on the assets of the poor, not on their lacks. Or at least begin by considering assets. There’s even a term for this in the literature: “asset-based community development” (ABCD, conveniently).

--Let any ministry be participatory, with the receptors calling the shots. That means the people name their needs and assets, help make any plan of action, and work alongside expatriate Christians. These last two points actually refer to projects that are longer in range.

--Focus more on relationships than on products or efficiency (how much can we accomplish in how short a time). These North American values inevitably clash with local culture.

--Recognize that the greatest beneficiaries of short-term mission adventures are those who go. If we can also bless and encourage the local Christians, that’s good. It’s also possible. But we need to first re-align our attitudes.

This list is partial. I hope it encourages more conversation.

I lifted my head during a lull in the conversation and looked around the room. Our group had been interacting with Hilarión on an article he had written about his experiences as a Quaker in the Bolivian military. I noticed that the exchanges in other groups were just as lively. A circle of four men, conveniently seated in the patch of afternoon sun streaming in through the window, was debating. Another group listened to María reading aloud from her manuscript, the first article she had ever written. I liked what I saw.

This was the first afternoon of a writers workshop, held in Juli, Peru, September 10-13, sponsored by the Friends World Committee for Consultation, Section of the Americas. The 27 participants represented the various Friends yearly meetings in the highlands of Bolivia and Peru. This was the third workshop in the series that Hal and I had been invited to lead, the first two taking place in 2006 and 2007. The previous workshops, at the request of local Friends, had focused on the preparation of didactic materials for adults and had resulted in booklets (or plans for books) covering such topics as reconciliation in the family, the local congregation in response to its social context, and practical holiness.

But this time I wanted to do something different and proposed that we focus on narrative writing. I’ve long had a concern that we be writing down and collecting the stories of Andean Quakers, both on the personal and communal levels. The sponsors and the workshop participants responded positively, sharing the same concern.

Narrative writing fits the Aymara context; cultural communication styles are traditionally oral and narrative. In rural communities the grandparents pass on values to the children through the animal fables, which, by the way, are hilarious. Education and urbanization are changing the picture, mirroring what is happening to traditional cultures all over the world, but the importance of stories remains.

We gave the workshop twice, in Juli for the highland Friends, and on a series of Saturdays in Santa Cruz, Bolivia, for Friends in the tropical lowlands, also in the month of September. Some 17 women and men participated in the Santa Cruz workshops.

We began by talking with the participants about narrative, its nature, its universal appeal, and its specific cultural importance. Why do we need to remember and pass on our stories? How do we express them in a compelling way? In a culturally appropriate way? How do we help each other to do this?

We also included a focus on Quaker values and some of the fascinating history of Quakers and literature. We noted that while most of Quaker writings have come from the global North and West, we can take inspiration from this history and step up now to take our turn. It’s time to hear from Friends in Africa, Asia, and, of course, Latin America.

But the heart of the workshops is always just doing the stuff. People were to come with a preliminary manuscript, a story from their own experience of an encounter with Jesus. About half the participants had the assignment ready, a good result actually. The others had to catch up during the workshop. With some orientation from us on principles of good writing (and re-writing!) and on the writing process, we divided into small working groups to read manuscripts and learn to do peer review. As I sat in on the groups, I was pleased by the observations different people were making, and the way the writers were learning to receive both praise and constructive criticism. That is never easy to learn!

The fact that the workshops are backed up by a specific project provided further motivation. We hope to publish selected stories in a book, or perhaps a series of books, tentatively entitled, Fire from the South: The Faith and Life of Latin American Friends. We want to include narratives from Central America, Mexico, and Hispanics in North America. The primary purposes are internal: a book in Spanish to help unite Latin American Friends, help them identify their particular characteristics and callings as part of the larger Quaker and Christian movement, and, of course, to pass the stories on to the next generations. The secondary purposes are for English-speaking Quakers. Participants in the workshops are encouraging us to look beyond a Quaker readership for the book, further expanding the purposes.

While final drafts are due the first of November, the preliminary manuscripts I brought home encourage me. Elisabeth and Ana have together written the story of their father, the pioneer of the Friends movement in the lowlands. We especially need the stories of older Friends who were involved in the beginnings of churches and even yearly meetings; many of them have died (such as the Friend in this story) and others don’t have enough formal education to write. But their children and grandchildren do. Two other articles deal with the early Quaker movement in the highlands, and how migration to Santa Cruz fueled the beginnings of the lowland church. Julio writes about how his profession as an entomologist is helping him live out his concern for protecting the environment. Gaby tells her story of encounter with Jesus in a context of animism and hostility to Christianity. Esteban writes of his calling to ministry and later to missionary service in another country. Abraham tells the story of his congregation’s response to situations of family abuse in the surrounding community.

All of these stories give insight into the faith and life of Andean Quakers. It is my prayer that they will enrich and encourage all who read them, both in and beyond the Quaker community. It’s time to let their voice be heard.

After two weeks in Costa Rica, Hal and I are now in Santa Cruz, Bolivia, staying in the home of Friends pastors, David and Arminda Tintaya. As was the case in San Jose, we have been enveloped in a cape of hospitality. We arrived here at midnight, but no matter. Before retiring to our rooms, we had tea with the Tintayas, taking time to catch up since our last visit. And in the few days we’ve been here, we have been hosted and celebrated every day. Each meeting is accompanied by tea and pastries, by laughter and conversation. The focus is on the event and the relationships, not on the schedule. It feels good to be back.

I’m recognizing again that hospitality is part of the spirituality of Latin America. Meeting together around a meal, taking the time to nurture relationships, acknowledging the other—these are values that are core to the very identity of people on this continent.

While in Costa Rica, much of my time and energy was given to the class I taught on “Culture, Spirituality and Mission.” I’ve had a love/hate relationship with teaching all my life, partly due to my own introversion. I guess I’m sort of like the little girl in the nursery rhyme who, “when she was good, she was very very good, but when she was bad, she was horrid.” (I even have the same curly hair!) I seem to have either very good or horrid teaching experiences.

This time in San Jose, thanks be to God (and to my praying partners), the class was very good, and I’ve gained new insight. I’m seeing a relationship between hospitality and teaching. The teacher is, in a sense, a host who, like a chef, prepares food that both nurtures and delights. And there is joy in the serving, especially when the host/teacher serves something she herself loves. I’m reminded of Quaker educator Parker Palmer’s model of both teacher and students gathered in a circle around a great theme. In this model the teacher is a learner along with her students, sharing her love of the subject and facilitating as the group learns to gaze at the mystery, “the secret that sits in the center.” This sharing and facilitating are basically acts of hospitality, part of the spirituality of teaching.

I think also of Brazilian educator Paulo Freire and his participatory model of education where students are respected for what they bring to the class and encouraged to be active participants in the “construction of knowledge.” This makes the teaching/learning situation one of mutual hospitality, and this dynamic facilitates discovery, application and, hopefully, transformation.

On the airplane between San Jose and Santa Cruz (Saint Joseph and Holy Cross), I was reading a book of essays by Ricardo Barbosa (Conversas no caminho,2008), perhaps the key writer of contemporary Protestant spirituality in Brazil. In an essay simply titled, “Attention,” he makes the statement that “Hospitality is the virtue of paying attention to others. It is the way in which we gather in, listen, touch and create the necessary space for the other to feel loved, protected and accepted.” This is more than serving good food or a stimulating lesson. This integrates hospitality and spirituality and becomes ministry that transforms. Lessons from Latin America.

This is rich food, indeed.

Several years ago on a personal retreat, I decided to name the five values that I want to characterize me during the last 20 years of my life. Five is an arbitrary number (why not six? or nine?), but I found the task of limiting the field helpful. After several days, I had narrowed my basic life values down to gratitude, wisdom, compassion, poetry and humor.

(Actually, “20 years” is another arbitrary number. I may need a lot more time to grow into these values, and I may have a lot less. I’m content not knowing that detail.)

Simply naming my basic values has encouraged me, as I pray them, envision my growth, and thank God for helping me become the person he created me to be. Recently I wrote a poem called “Faith Statements,” and the title is important. This poem is not self-description, despite all the “I am” affirmations. It’s a prayer of becoming.

FAITH STATEMENTS

Gratitude--
I am one who thinks “Thank you”
before, “Oh no!,” “Why me?”
“Why bother?” or “Ouch.”
“Yes” is always on the tip of my brain.
In the rain, the dark, with ants on the sink,
beside you as you sleep, my secret
inward smile. There.

Wisdom--
I am one who really does get better
with age. All those years and tears
matter, season the stew of now,
make people want to taste, touch,
see, feel, hear, grow.

Compassion--
I am one who feels the pain/joy/fear/hope
of another, from the inside out.
When I give you a cup of cold water,
it’s love that compels. It’s love
that flows through my veins,
and love that moves me out the door.
Leads me to you.

Poetry--
I am one with eyes that see, ears
that hear. I am attentive to
the small voices the leaves make.
I see the hidden
footprints all around me. I
can show up to the page
because I show up to life.

Humor--
I am one who laughs a lot,
even at inappropriate times.
Not always out loud.
I can’t tell jokes, but I discover
them everywhere. Give me
a second look and you’ll see.
I’m laughing at you.