Being Present & Saying Goodbye

June 19, 2014 / joyousjava / 1 Comment

Today was our final day in Chacraseca, and frankly, I’m sad. Our time here seems to have flown by, yet was also slow in the moment — and that activity of being present in the moment, hour after hour, has been tiring work. It takes considerable effort to truly listen, truly see, and truly feel what you feel in any given moment. That has been our task this week.

In these final hours here we have met with various small groups (young adults, elders, women who receive micro loans). We have met with excited stitchers who’ve already begun work on the first stole based on yesterday’s design. We’ve honored the women who cooked for us all week and said goodbye to Padre Tomas. We’ve said goodbye to the translators who made this deep listening possible, and who became our friends along the way

After those goodbyes, we headed west for an evening on the beach. The Pacific rushed and swirled across dark volcanic sand, refreshing us and stirring reflections on our time here. Stories surged with the roar of the ocean, bringing with them names and faces we hope to never forget.

This community has changed us as individuals and as a group in ways we likely won’t understand until after we’ve returned home. And now the hardest part begins: figuring out how to let those changes live and breathe in us, so that they take on life in our homes, our churches, and our hearts.

Accompaniment

June 18, 2014 / joyousjava / Leave a comment

Throughout our time here in Chacraseca we’ve been reminded of an African proverb that goes something like this: if you want to go fast, go alone…but if you want to go far, go together.

This is one of the ways you could describe the term “accompaniment,” a concept and way of being/doing about which our D.min course revolves. We are here in Chacraseca to witness and to learn accompaniment as a way of living our ministry, living our prayer, and living our struggle for justice. It is a core value and method for Just Hope, and it is a way of life for the people here — they survive and continue La Lucha (the struggle) because they walk the road together.

Today we met with some of the women of Stitching Hope, a group of women who create beautiful stoles, purses and other textile arts using fabrics that they paint and dye in brilliant hues. These pieces are sold in the United States, and their sale allows the women to receive fair wages for their work — wages that make it possible for their children to eat and to attend school.

Rather than merely supporting the women of Stitching Hope by purchasing their work, we spent most of the day together. First, we heard each other’s stories and ate a meal together. Then we began the work of designing a special stole together — one that represents the practice of accompaniment.

It was that creative process that touched me most deeply: women from two cultures, speaking two different languages, who (through translators, hand gestures, and laughter) first described their understandings of accompaniment and then created shared symbols to paint a picture of that reality in colorful fabric.

It was difficult. It was frustrating. It was funny. And it was also holy.

By the end of the afternoon, we not only had the basic design for a stole that will be produced both for us and for the Stitching Hope product line, but we also had experienced the power of working together in a manner that allows all voices to be heard and values all experiences on even footing. We dipped our toes into accompaniment, and it was cool water for our spirits.

When we left the Stitching Hope workshop, purchases in hand (because we did buy some of their gorgeous work), hugs were shared all around. We are partners now, yoked together on the same journey. We are sisters, and together (though language and cultural barriers may slow us down), we will walk far.

The Trouble With Gringos…

June 17, 2014 / joyousjava / 1 Comment

When you go on a trip to a poor community and your purpose is not to “do mission” but to listen to the people, you end up hearing lots of stories about mission groups behaving badly.

Stories like:

-the groups who come and build things so poorly that they must be fixed almost immediately

-the groups who don’t bother to ask what actually needs to be built, and instead create more problems by building what they assume is needed

-the groups who don’t think about local logistics and build things (or bring things) that the people can’t use (or can’t afford to use)

-the groups that don’t allow the people to help in their projects — they are only allowed to receive, not share in the accomplishment and improvement of their own communities.

The list goes on and on… And ultimately, the problem isn’t that people come to do the work. The problem is that many folks who “do mission” don’t bother working with local leaders because they think they know better than those leaders, and because they are more concerned with accomplishments than with building relationships.

Today, we were allowed to sit in on a meeting of the local pastoral comité here in Chacraseca. In that meeting we listened to representatives of each sector discuss challenges and reach consensus on a number of issues that affect the people here. It was a little messy, a little chaotic, and deeply faithful to the community. These leaders sacrifice a great deal in order to attend the weekly meeting, with some representatives walking up to 18 kilometers one way in order to get here. Yet they come and serve because they love their people.

After the comité meeting, we met with their smaller board (similar to a cabinet or executive committee). During our conversation, Leslie (a leader of Just Hope) asked them to share the troubles they have had with some “gringo groups” who come to Chacraseca and refuse to work with the board. After pointing out some of the situations listed above, one leader summarized the situation by saying, “sometimes they come here and work by themselves…we’re just on the side somewhere…. We are the face of the community and I believe we deserve respect.”

I believe he is right. These leaders remind those of us who do mission work that it isn’t our job to swoop in and “save” people from situations we don’t even understand. Instead, it is our job to show up and listen first. If our work is grounded in relationship and respect, then we build more than only houses or latrines — we slowly begin to build the kind of just community that hints at the kingdom of God.

The leaders of Chacraseca’s pastoral comité want us to visit for relationship building and work projects. They believe it is better for us to come and see than it is for us to just send the money. But when we come, we need to acknowledge their lives, their commitment, their knowledge…their dignity. For, as Dr. Elmer Zelaya says: Just because you’re doing a good thing, doesn’t mean you’re doing good.”

Mission work can be a good thing. The people of Chacraseca are teaching us how to do good while we’re at it, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to be one of their students.

Giving and Receiving

June 16, 2014June 17, 2014 / joyousjava / Leave a comment

The bulk of today was spent in a sector of Chacraseca called La Bolsa. We gathered at a family’s home with women from the community, went through a round of introductions (using our excellent translators), and then spent a couple of hours cooking together. Nicaraguan women taught us how to cook their special dishes, supervising us as we made their family favorites — and we taught them how to make a few of our favorites, supervising them in the same way.

When the feast was ready, we ate. And ate. And ate some more. Fried plantains, rice, beef, tomato & cucumber salad, and tortillas came together with green bean casserole, biscuits & gravy, and crunchy cole slaw with ramen noodles. It was the meeting of cultures, spread across one long table, and it was beautiful.

As we ate together, Elba (director of women’s projects at Just Hope) facilitated a conversation in which we all shared stories of the women who have inspired us. Those stories were funny, heartbreaking, relatable, foreign…and sacred. In the telling and hearing of those stories, we became a part of one another’s lives. All were able to give, all were able to receive, all had dignity and respect.

Tonight, as I lay in bed I replay those conversations and faces in my mind’s eye and I’m struck by the difference between charity and social justice. By allowing these women to give of themselves rather than passively receive things from us, we honored their full humanity. Each woman is my sister, and she is worthy of that respect. I will remember their faces and their stories for a long time to come.

“I am still here.”

June 15, 2014 / joyousjava / Leave a comment

Chacraseca is a poor farming area outside of Léon, approximately 50 miles wide and self-organized into 12 sectors. A part of the history here is that a Catholic sister named Joan came here to serve, and helped the people to organize themselves and discover their own capacities for leadership so that they could care for one another and improve life in their community.

Joan left eight years ago, and Alzheimer’s has stolen her memory of this place, but she is still here in spirit. Presenté. The work, the struggle, continues — and that is seen so clearly in the women of Chacraseca.

We witnessed many of these women today, after Mass. They gathered for the annual meeting of Mujeres Unidades (Women United), the microcredit organization that has created a women’s bank in most of the sectors of Chacraseca. In this meeting, women from each sector came together to decide an important question: could women who have already received and repaid loans of $250 reapply and receive loans of up to $800 for larger projects or business improvements?

$800 might not seem like much, but in Chacraseca it means that a woman who usually plants 1/2 an acre of crops could install an irrigation system and plant 4 acres of crops — AND grow things during both the rainy season and the summer. That means more food to feed her family, more food to sell at the market, and more money to pay for things like the bus rides her children need in order to get to school.

While children played around the room, the women discussed the question from multiple angles: interest rates, repayment deadlines, collateral required, etc. Ultimately, they decided to approve the increased loans with 1% interest and individualized repayment deadlines. With the question answered and the annual report completed, we moved on to a potluck lunch. (Note: this program had existed since 2009 and has maintained a 100% repayment rate throughout their 5 year history.)

In the afternoon, we gathered with a smaller group of those same women so that we could listen to their stories of what it means to them to be leaders in Chacraseca. Many expressed that “to be a leader is a beautiful thing.” One woman noted that while at first she had no idea what it would mean to be a leader (when she was chosen by her community), “I am still here.”

I am still here. That statement points to the resiliency, resourcefulness, determination and hope of these women. They struggle, they strive, and they are still here, improving the lives of their children…and improving life for themselves as well.

Tonight, as the much-needed and prayed-for rain comes down outside, I give thanks for the women of Chacraseca. Thanks be to God for the spirit of resiliency and hope, and thanks be to God for those words said with quiet pride: “I’m still here.”

Amen.

From Managua to Chacraseca…

June 14, 2014 / joyousjava / 1 Comment

At the end of this first day in Nicaragua, words escape me. We’ve experienced so much that my brain and heart are packed tightly with images and stories that aren’t my own — stories shared because of trust borrowed via the credibility of our hostess and guides.

So tonight I share a few image/word pairings in hopes that they will inspire your imagination, awaken your hope, and challenge your assumptions (the way they have inspired, awakened and challenged mine):

“Presenté”:

Pride:

“La Lucha” (the struggle):

Quesillos:

Sandino:

Momotombo y momotombito (volcanoes):

Deforestation:

$20:

Sacred Story:

Amen, and buenos noches.

Keeping Faith

May 9, 2014 / joyousjava / Leave a comment

She’s a gentle giant. Liquid gold eyes watch us as we move about the house, each of our steps marked in time by the “thwap” of tail on hardwood flooring. Spread across the couch, she seems still — lazy even — but the moment we near the front door she springs to life with the energy of a puppy and the gait of a small horse.

“I don’t want to keep this dog.”

These words have crossed my mind and lips multiple times this week: when she dragged me down the street at 6:30 am, when we tucked away every bit of food normally stored on countertops, when she licked a couch cushion to the point of saturation… And yet, she’s a gem. A peaceful spirit. A lapdog inside a 70+ lb body.

And I do want to keep her. But to keep her, and love her well, some things are going to have to change.

During the day, when I’m at work in the church and community, I’m all about change. It’s my bread and butter, something I love and embrace more often than not. Heck, it’s even the field of study for my Doctor of Ministry program: Transformational Leadership for Women in Ministry.

Yet, when I head home at the end of a long day, change is the last thing I want to think about. Instead, it is comfort and routine that call my name. I want something I can count on, something dependable, something that is the same. For all that talk of transformation, at the end of the day I’m no different from the folks who want everything to remain unchanged in our life together as church. I crave the comfort of continuity, just in different parts of my life.

But we have to change. I have to change.

Some of those things I’ve come to count on when I head home simply aren’t healthy. They may have been at one time, but it turns out that my needs changed when I wasn’t looking…and my mode of being morphed into something unhelpful. Comfort turned into clutter, rest became inactivity, and something’s got to give. It’s time. This enormous pup, with her zeal for long walks and open space, may be the very one who can break me out of the rut I’ve mistaken for stability.

Our life together as church is no different. Over time, our patterns become unhealthy. Instead of being informed and moved by the Holy Spirit, we become predictable. Instead of striving for the Kin-dom of God, we rest on fading laurels. Instead of being alive and energetic, our comfy ways of being turn into lethargy, and something’s got to give. It’s time.

Sometimes, in order to keep faith (or to keep a dog named Faith), things can no longer remain the same…and that’s a very good thing.

What Not to Wear: Church Edition?

August 19, 2013August 19, 2013 / joyousjava / 1 Comment

I had started to believe that we church folk had moved beyond judging one another’s clothing choices. Clearly, I was wrong.

In the past two months, I’ve heard enough snippy remarks about “those young people” and the clothes they wear to church that I could have scripted an entire season of What Not to Wear: Church Edition. And I’m not just talking about remarks made in my own congregation – I’m talking about things I’ve overheard in other churches and in restaurants during the Sunday lunch hour. I’m also talking about myself.

Sometimes while on vacation I visit other places to get my worship on and see what other folks are doing. Just yesterday, as I walked up the steps to visit another place of worship, I saw a young woman in a skirt that was slit way up in the back. I mean, waaaaaaay up. Her rear end wasn’t exposed, but one wrong move could easily have changed that. And boy howdy did I start judging.

You may have heard these things before (or thought them yourself):

“What is she thinking leaving the house in that, let alone wearing that to CHURCH!?”
“What are her parents thinking? ARE they thinking?”
“You’d think that people would KNOW what is APPROPRIATE to wear to worship!”
“If only girls today had more respect for themselves and their bodies…”

Now, here’s the funny thing: when people have said these sorts of things about kids in any one of the youth groups I’ve served, my immediate reaction is to shut them down. I tell folks we should be glad those young ones are here, no matter what they wear. I tell them that I won’t be a part of shaming young women and men for their bodies or their clothing choices. I explain that the judgments we make about women’s clothing are directly linked to the victim blaming that often accompanies sexual assault and rape. I advise them to get to know the young people in question, because if they do, they will discover that health problems have caused the weight gain that makes clothing snug, that tight finances mean wearing clothes that no longer fit “properly”, that those jean shorts and t-shirt really are the nicest outfit a young one owns.

And yet, in a situation where I don’t know the teen, I catch myself making the same unhelpful judgments. Oh, what a hypocrite I can be!

But enough is enough.

If you don’t have a real relationship with a teenager in your faith community, you don’t have a right to make statements about his choice in clothing…and neither do I. In relationship, I can begin to discover who this teen really is: what she cares about, who and how she loves, what motivates her and what makes her feel defeated, how she dreams and works for a future, how she hurts when no one is looking. I can begin to appreciate her full humanity, instead of seeing her as an object – a mannequin – dressed in a particular style of clothing. In relationship, I also build the credibility and trust to begin having conversations about clothing, embodiment, self-image and self-esteem in ways that are compassionate instead of judgmental, loving instead of shaming, and mutual instead of unilateral.

Outside of real relationship I lack any necessary context for understanding the person or outfit in question. For example, with the young woman I observed on the church steps, I know NOTHING about her. Though she walked in with her family, I don’t know them or what they value. I don’t know the circles they run in, the professions they choose, the schools they attend. I don’t know where she plans to attend college, what event she was attending after worship, when or if she was baptized, or which family member helped her choose and purchase her outfit. I don’t know that she attends 2 Bible studies or none at all. I don’t know that she’s a Girl Scout or a cheerleader or a member of the math club. Hell, I don’t even know her name. And even if I did know her name, even if over the years I’d observed her from five pews back as she grew from a curly-haired cherub of a child into this young woman, if I’m not in real relationship with her then I don’t have the right to comment.

Outside of real relationship, the judgments I make about this beloved child of God are more about me than about her. They are about my assumptions, my prejudice, my tastes, my beliefs and my own sense of shame. Outside of real relationship, if I judge and grouse and complain about what she’s wearing, I’m acting like a jerk. And so are you.

We all become jerks when God’s house is closed to those who don’t have the right wardrobes. That’s not church, that’s a country club.
If we strive to be about right-relationship more than we’re about the “right” hem lengths and start loving each other better…we’ll start acting like the Church again.

Let’s be Church, y’all.

*NOTE* Though I write primarily about the judgments we make about young people, I’ve heard remarks about people of all ages and the choices they make in church clothing. Too sexy, too frumpy, too loud, too shabby…these labels get thrown at adults too. And they’re just as wrong. We’ve got to cut it out, people. Myself included.

*SECOND NOTE* In response to the question of a dear friend, I am not advocating judgment WITHIN relationship. My hope is that when we enter into real relationship (and start doing the hard work that is a part of that), the temptation to judge will turn into a desire to talk, know, understand and, if necessary, hold accountable in a way that is loving instead of all those other alternatives (a way that allows the other person to say “I disagree, and here’s why…”). Also, while I’m at it, I recognize that this may rub folks of certain generations the wrong way. After all, if you were raised in a time/manner in which church dress was all about respect for the sacred, it is obviously difficult to let particular styles of dress slide. We’re all welcome to think what we think and feel what we feel, and some of our most deeply held views may never change. But let’s give others the benefit of the doubt and not assume that their choice of clothing is made out of malice or disrespect, acknowledging that we don’t know their heart, mind or difficulties.

A Longing Fulfilled (or, why I took the leap into a D.Min program)

April 17, 2013April 17, 2013 / joyousjava / Leave a comment

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.
-Proverbs 13:12

When I was a little girl, my career path practically changed with the weather. For a time, I wanted nothing so badly as to be a paleontologist, to spend my days under the sun patiently unearthing the bones of prehistoric monsters. Eventually, books about dinosaurs gave way to tomes of Greek and Roman mythology. Then I yearned to be an archaeologist (Indiana Jones style, of course), pouring over the written remains of ancient civilizations by day and snatching artifacts from mischievous thieves by night. Somewhere in there I also wanted to be an astronaut and a medical doctor, though those dreams didn’t last as long or come with the same reading lists. By middle school, I’d returned to my love for the animal kingdom and announced my intent to become a marine biologist (oddly enough, a choice most influenced by my family’s love for Star Trek 4…the one with the humpback whales). And when I graduated from high school I’d again returned to that obsession with our human story, entering TCU as a history major and religion minor with the hope of becoming a history professor in the academy.

These dreams pointed toward such varied paths. My lifestyle, location, and the contents of my bookshelves would have been so different, depending upon the adventure I chose. And yet, those largely incompatible dreams all shared one moment for which I yearned: the day I would walk across a stage and hear the words “Congratulations, Doctor Blackwood.” As silly as it might seem, those words were the hardest thing to give up when God called me into ministry. Changing majors was a delight. I loved the study of religion even more than I loved studying history (it was the same thing only somehow better), so the switch was more joy than sacrifice. The bargaining took place over the PhD:

“God, I’ll do this thing that you want of me… I’ll get a PhD in church history and teach in a seminary.”

*long pause from God* (translation: “That’s not who I’ve called you to be.”)

“Ok, God. I’ll do this thing you want of me…but I’ll do it like this: I’ll get a PhD in religious ethics and teach future ministers how to parse out the ethical quandaries that come with ministry.”

*similarly long pause from God* (translation: “That’s ALSO not who I’ve called you to be.”)

“God, listen. I’ll do this thing you want of me. Really. How about this? I’ll get a PhD in whatever You choose, and I’ll teach…”

*sound of God banging head on table* (No translation necessary)

Ultimately, I accepted that my call was to congregational ministry, finished a Master of Divinity and was ordained (we’ll just skip over the years where I kicked and screamed and dragged my feet and lived out an embarrassingly long hissy fit, m’kay?). And the truth is, I love this calling. I love that I get to share in the holiest, scariest, most joy-full and sacred moments of life with our congregants. I love teaching and being taught by our teenagers, preaching the Gospel with words and action, immersing baptismal candidates in the freezing waters of God’s grace (the heater’s broken…sorry kids!), introducing new babies to their church family… Though sometimes we don’t see eye to eye, I am in love with this life and these people.

And still, at every college graduation when those PhD candidates receive the words “Congratulations, Doctor ______,” I weep. This is why being a student in the Doctor of Ministry program at Phillips Theological Seminary means so much to me. When I read the program description for the Transformational Leadership for Women in Ministry track, my heart leapt with hopeful possibility…and for the first time since I’d begun bargaining with God about my future, GOD SAID YES!

This is the right program and the right moment for me; it is a way to re-engage my inner academic for the sake of God’s call into ministry, not in spite of it, and a way I can develop and use my particular set of God-given gifts to help our church be transformed for faithful new possibilities in ministry and service. The program of study is for me, but not only for me. It’s for the church, but not only for the church. It’s a hell of a lot of work in addition to everything else, and to some folks around me it seems downright crazy. But it’s right. It is a longing fulfilled, a tree of life that promises to bear good fruit in God’s good time.

This time God said yes.

A Prayer

January 13, 2013 / joyousjava / Leave a comment

In the stillness of this moment we turn our hearts to you, Eternal One. Yet, our questions, our fears, our pain, even our joys make us restless.

Some of us long for your shalom, that peace which passes all understanding – and wonder if our patience will hold out.

Some of us yearn for healing, a body or life made right and new – and wonder if hope is a vain thing.

Some of us marvel and bask in the love shared with us by others, yet wonder if such a sublime thing can last – our fears nibbling, slowly getting the best of us.

This life, with its mixtures of good and bad, hope and despair, wonder and fear – this life confuses us. And yet it is here, in this muddled place, that you meet us, day after day. We fall before you in awe, that you would enter our lives exactly as they are – that through Christ you would come to know precisely what it feels like to live with such mixed emotion.

Remind us today, and always, that in You we are never alone. If we ascend to the highest heavens, you are there. If we make our bed in Sheol – yes, even in the grave – you are there. In all the messy joy and muddied sorrow of this life, you are with us – loving us, strengthening us, calling us…

Help us to answer your callings for our lives. A call to teach, to parent, to do business with integrity, to preach, to seek justice, to heal, to learn – in all the varied ways you call us into lives of meaning and service, give us the courage to say “YES”. Infuse our life together with creativity and hope, so that we can step into your future for our church with “yes” on our lips.

We ask these things, along with the unnamed prayers of our hearts, in the powerful name of Jesus.