Called to Community

Recently I joined a community house of young Brazilians and one German in the middle of a favela in São Paulo Brazil. While I would never trade living with a host family in Bolivia (for the obvious cultural lessons, friendship, and love I experienced), living in raw community once again I can see concrete examples of beauty and life catalyzing.

When I say raw community I mean two things. First true community exists in its real sense. So often in the growing "me and I" world of individualism we do not really ever come into contact with intentional, true community. Many a times I have heard young people in the United States say, "Community, what's that?" or "I'm just fine without it, thanks." In this sense community is just being around other people; having a "crew," or being "known" or identified with a certain crowd, country club, business group, or even a church. This quasi-community is nothing more than a social club of identification, which is more often a sugar-coated front rather than a safe place with a deep sense of belonging.

If you have ever been to an AA meeting (or a similar 12-step program) you will know what I'm talking about. Just like the AA meeting in real sense, honesty and acceptance breaks down the defenses of pride and fear, and it washes away the overwhelming shame that all people carry in the baggage of their tired lives. How is this possible in community? The Master explained it quite simply:

Stay joined to me and let my teachings become part of you. Then you can pray for whatever you want, and your prayer will be answered. When you become fruitful disciples of mine, my Father will be honored. I have loved you, just as my Father has loved me. So remain faithful to my love for you… Now I tell you to love each other, as I have loved you. (John 15:7-9,12)

The Servant John puts it this way:

If we truly love others and live as Christ did in this world, we won't be worried about the day of judgment. A real love for others will chase those worries away. The thought of being punished is what makes us afraid. It shows that we have not really learned to love. We love because God loved us first. But if we say we love God and don't love each other we are liars. We cannot see God. So how can we love God, if we don't love the people we can see? (1 John 4:17-20)

The Divine love overcomes all evil. The Divine light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it. AA communities demonstrate the first step to real life, which implies real community, is putting one's trust in a Higher Power. The Master has overcome the world of darkness and so, if we can have the guts to trust, the Master will also overcome our deepest fears, regrets, and shame. In the real sense of community we are free to be our true selves, knowing that no one has it together. At the same time we stop playing the blame-game and begin to take responsibility for our faults and our sin. We know though that the Divine grace is sufficient to cover our imperfections and transform our lives.

(An El Alto, Bolivian Parade, as seen from Word Made Flesh's Center)

In Word Made Flesh, in Bolivia, I know this happens because I saw women who prostitute out of their destitution, find a safe place to open the deepest wounds of their souls with others. In community love makes people whole again. We who are imperfect find a place to confide our darkest stories and realize that we have a God who forgives completely. We find acceptance and renewed identity, because in community real growth occurs. Richard J. Foster explains in Celebration of Discipline, "…if we know that the [believing community is] first a fellowship of sinners [instead of a fellowship of saints] we are freed to hear the unconditional call of God's love and to confess our need openly before our brothers and sisters…our humanity is no longer denied but transformed." Transformation brings about true growth. Growth happens in honesty, raw sharing, and loving acceptance of each others gifts.

(The Word Made Flesh Drop-in Center)

This brings us to the aspect of "raw community" that I wanted to highlight. In true community it is not all roses and tulips. Sometimes we wake up and smell the coffee and other times we wake up to the smell of old sweat socks. In true intentional community that is Divine-fed, we do not always get to choose our community members. The Divine draws us together; we do not get to be in charge of the selection process. The other members of my Word Made Flesh Servant Team did not get to opt for a less "extroverted Clark." At the same time I did not get to go over the specs of my new Brazilian Casa Esperança community. In an intentional community house the wake-up calls and leadership styles won't always be compatible. So the rawness allows for the inconsistencies of humanity surface.

These abrasive moments and personal conflicts, though, are to our benefit. As it is said, "conflict is inevitable." It is how we choose to respond that makes the difference. If we respond as the Master, in Divine love, tremendous positive change occurs. Yes, when you put poor kids from the slum, former drug addicts, and a spoiled white-kid from the States together, it can get a little rocky. But my ego dies, wounds find healing, and emotional sores find soothing balm. Like the stones in a creek bed, the living water of Divine love washes over us, and we (sometimes not so gently) rub against each other, and become smoother with time. Intentional community makes space for honesty, finds room for acceptance, but also keeps the door open for brokenness and healing.

In a lecture series "From Brokenness to Community," Jean Vanier goes into rich detail of how raw, open community brings about beauty and growth in its members. Vanier does not embellish community with flowery language. He recognizes that true community "is a place of struggle and sometimes conflict." And yet he boldly celebrates great truths about real community. When speaking about one of his friends, an "amazing" eight-year old boy named Armando, Jean explained a unique gift he possesses. While his disabilities prevent him from walking or talking and eating without assistance, and his body is contorted and broken, "when you pick him up, his eyes and his whole body quiver with joy and excitement and say: 'I love you.' He has a deep therapeutic influence on people." Vanier goes on to say:

…someone like Armando can penetrate the barriers they—and all of us—create around our hearts. But someone like Armando can awaken us to love and call forth the well of living waters and of tenderness hidden inside of us. Armando is not threatening. He does not awaken our sexuality. He just says "I love you; I love being with you.

Many people know they have a head because they have learned that two and two are four. They know that they have hands because they can cook eggs and do other things. Many know they have a sexuality because the have experienced strong emotions. But what they do not always know is that they have a well deep inside of them. If that well is tapped, springs of life and of tenderness flow forth. It has to be revealed to each person that these waters are there and that they can rise up from each one of us and flow over people, giving them life and a new hope...

If [Armando] is so broken and so hurt and yet is still such a source of life, then I too am allowed to look at my own brokenness and to trust that I too can give life to others. (From Brokenness to Community, 27-28)

(Missionaries of Charity (The Little Sisters of Kolkata, Home for abandoned, severly-disabled, and elderly people, El Alto Bolivia)

In the thick of the life of a real community, the rough spots of our brokenness, our difficulties in loving, and our sin is dealt with in a loving and graceful way. We begin to truly realize the words of the Master when he said "Love each other as I have loved you." We realize that abiding in the Master's love bears much fruit. We begin to accept a real forgiveness and become confident in an all-loving God. Who would want to pass that up? What an opportunity—to live free from guilt and to have a true sense of belonging and purpose. This is why the Master prayed that we would be one just as He and His Father are one. And yet it is so easy to not even give it a chance.

I have heard it said that Gandhi could not agree with Christianity, why? –he said that he had never met a single true Christian. Do those who listen to the Master really trust in His words? Yes, we can change the lingo and say "being a Christian is not a religion, it's a relationship," but what kind of a relationship doesn't fully trust and abide in the love of the other? The Master has called for those who really listen to remain in His love by loving one another. A real community accepts each other, not by judging like the world judges, but forgives and heals as He forgives and heals. Real community requires the responsibility to say, "Let the change start with me first, let me fess up to the mess of my life, let me get real." Do we really want to take the responsibility to learn real love and live real life?

During a discussion on the celebration of community in Bolivia, Laura, one of my teammates said after reading scripture and reflecting on Latino culture, "How much we are missing out on [in our culture of individualism!]" We just don't seem to get it. If the Master returned to the States today, I wonder what He would say. Would he ask our congregations the same question, "What have you done to my house of prayer for the nations?" would he grieve the segregated hours of Sunday mornings and afternoons? Would he be saddened to see the way we compartmentalize our spirituality and categorize our community? Would he ask "do you really know the person sitting in front of you or behind you in your worship service? How about the names of their kids? Do you love them like you say you love me? Would you wash their feet, if they were dirty? How about cut their lawn? How quickly do you run to your car after the closing song? Do you visit your brothers and sisters in the hospital, how about your co-workers?" I know that my personal answers are not as satisfactory as they could be. And still we have a Hope and a Teacher who is a real person and a starting point which we call community.

The Call to Solitude and Silence

During the past several weeks, I have been quite silent on this blog.  The reason though, I believe is good.  In this technological age when the presence of folks pouring out their rantings and gossip on countless blogs and Myspace pages and when entertainment fills our ears with more pointless noise, we lose a precious treasure.  That is that when people fill the remaining minutes of their busy days with news and numb their senses with psychobabble and techno-noise, it crowds out the last vestiges of their minds and time which should be reserved for reflection.  I've discovered that this temptation is all to easy and the only way I can prevent it is with solitude and silence.  Pure and purposeful reflection can only come from a quiet mind and trusting heart--knowing that Truth with a capital T is waiting to be met and taken seriously. 

 

What is true solitude?  It's not simply being alone, but knowing that we can never truly be alone.  One of my favorite group of musicians, Enter the Worship Circle, says in one of their hymns, "Though I feel alone, I'm not alone, because... You are right by my side."  The Master has said, "And surely I will be with you until the end of the age."  Though our friends may fail us, though our neighbors may reject us, though we me feel like strangers in a foreign world, the One of the universe remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself.

 

You see when we isolate ourselves, we close our eyes and harden our hearts from feeling the love of God.  Conversely when we silence ourselves and rest from the busy activity of congested interaction, the world may withdraw from us, but in solitude we discover how close the Divine has drawn to us.  It is truly possible to discover why we exist, in the gentle whispers of Truth.  Upon the mediation of what really matters, we find our true selves.  Real community may affirm who we are.  But real solitude and close quietness with the Divine allows us to live the question "Why am I who I am?"

 

Often we are not afforded the opportunity to retreat to a cave, mountain top, or even a sanctuary for quiet contemplation, yet this doesn't diminish the call to solitude.  Every day true servants are called to quiet their thoughts and practice restraint.  This is so that they can be able to perceive the closeness and direction of the Divine.  Richard J. Foster in Celebration of Discipline explains two very important distinctions about solitude, first he says, "We can cultivate an inner solitude and silence that sets us free from loneliness and fear. Loneliness is inner emptiness. Solitude is inner fulfillment."  Second he says, "Without silence there is no solitude."  We must realize that solitude includes both fullness and silence.  The tension lies in discovering how to fill our souls without filling them with noise and junk-thoughts.

 

In today's culture, though numbed and stunted by advanced technology, spectacular cinema, and the shrinking of the world, the search for real wonder runs deep in the human soul.  The desire to be mystified and awed lends to big business in corners of the world like Hollywood.  No wonder Jesus' contemporaries demanded signs and wonders, to no avail.  The Master rather requests a different posture--a quiet, contrite, and broken heart.  Rather than looking for the next thrill, we should be looking for the One who brings us true peace and rest.

 

In my time here in Bolivia, I have noticed the noise of globalization leaking into this quiet mountain country.  That doesn't mean I have to react hostilely.  What it does mean is I must remember who I belong to, and that this Master is a solid rock of peace and comfort.  To the widows who work constantly to put food on the table, the Divine is the one who brings consolation.  To the subsistence farmer, His burden is light.  And to the servant, to the ones who break bread in solidarity with the abandoned, and those crying the night away in the streets, He does not deny.  How He longs for those who humble and quiet themselves and experience that He is God.  This is why those who mourn will be comforted and those who are meek will inherit the earth, because they know where to find the Master, they know how to approach the Divine.

 

Let us in solitude seek the One who binds up the broken and sets the captives free.  This is my prayer as I continue to serve in South America.

 

PS:  I have been invited to visit a community in Brazil who work among children who find themselves abandoned or have run away to the live in the streets of São Paulo.  =)  More news on that later.

Photo Update.

I know it´s been a long couple of weeks since my last post. For that I am very sorry. Please trust me, more posts are on the way. These past weeks have gone by so fast; with many programs and events to attend, and many excusions as well. I´m learning a lot about El Alto and Bolivia. Many of my friends and family have been asking for photos surrounding my experience. Below is a slide show from my public photo album:




I will add more captions in the future. Some things to know, the gringos in the photos are my fellow staff and teammates of Word Made Flesh. The Bolivians pictured include my host brother, Juan, and a local musician and pastor, Reddy. The mountains in the photos can be seen from my neighborhood on clear days. Pictures of buildings are within my neighborhood in El Alto.

Peace
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An Aside: Daily Life in Bolivia

I have decided to take some frequent detours from my more specific discussions about calling and simply share how life unfolds in El Alto.  I've decided to call these detours "Asides" and I hope that they will read as glimpses and snapshots into my experience in this wonderful city of the Altiplano.  

An excerpt from my journal (February 25, 2008) follows:

I and my Bolivian mom awoke early, and as I washed the sleep out of my eyes she quietly prepared me a warm cup of chocolate soy milk and set out some crusty rolls of  pan bought just the day before.  We quietly discuss my plans for the day and Mama (as I call her) softly speaks of her gratitude to God.  After gulping down breakfast, I cross the patio to place my dishes in the cocina; and with my rain coat zipped I bear the morning shower exchanging a warm "Hasta tardes" with Mama...  I round the corner of a local shop-keeper's storefront, outlined by adobe and concrete walls, to meet up with my teammate Kelly. 

 

Kelly, cheerful as ever, greeted me with a smile that shined through the light blue shroud of her hooded rain jacket.  And we continued down the rocky/muddy road that runs toward the main avenue of the neighborhood.  The rest of the team was ready to catch a mini-bus (usually a Nissan or a Toyota)... After hopping off bus 685 we walked across several empty lots separated by dirt roads and a couple potato plots.  We passed by several adobe hovels, some lonely crumbling adobe walls, and even the rare completed concrete-walled courtyard-home. 

 

As we walked there was a sense that we were in the area where the city met the country and suburbia was only a distant dream.  Cara told us that not even five years ago there was only a field and the Missionaries of Charity compound.  She pointed to the green roofed buildings off in the distance.  It's about a 15 minute walk from where the only direct bus passes.  A silent but smiling doorman anticipated us and let us in the gate as we approached.  Bundled up in a blue jean jacket, hood, and dark sunglasses he quietly returns our "Buenas Días."

 

Immediately we plunge into a white and blue courtyard with many simple but colorful floral gardens and ornamental shrubs. The Sisters with shawls and skirts that match the color scheme... greet us warmly; after a while one of the residents with a expectant smile shuffles over to peal the bell that calls the compound to Lauds, or the morning prayers.  As the residents pour out of their quarters the greet our team with a humble anticipation and then take their place near an icon of St. Mary and the baby Christ...

 

Bryan and I head towards the men's quarters which is separated from the women's by a spartan yet spacious concrete and tiled kitchen.  In El Alto most utilitarian spaces are filled with concrete counter-tops and cubbies that are lined with tiles along their vertical surfaces.  Quite abruptly we were immersed in the scents of ammonia, cleaning detergents, and dampness. But soon the shy smiles and animated expressions of the residents caught me up in a swelling feeling that this is a home of the unashamed.  No that word doesn't give the atmosphere justice.  A sheltered brokenness and vulnerability will be an intimate detail of our lives over the next four months. 

 

While at a loss and slightly overwhelmed in our new environment I was drawn (with Bryan) to our new friends, who were ready to share their stories of brokenness with us.  Changing the yellow and maroon bed sheets, folding blankets and clothes, sweeping and mopping the floors, washing the walls of the bathroom, hanging clothes to dry, toilet cleaning, and serving pasta (or rice) and stew to the residents have become our celebration and our prayer as we come close to these new friends... 

 

At noon we returned to our host families; I perceived that our new experience filled the whole team with a pregnant silence of stories waiting to be birthed over meals with our families and prayer meetings in the coming weeks.

 

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Called to Community

When living overseas the tension experienced between solitude and community always seems to be heightened.  Caught vulnerably in new and unfamiliar cultural situations two great fears can rise within the ego--the fear of being alone and the fear of not belonging.  These insecurities are unavoidable when living overseas.  The challenge is how a person responds to these insecurities and therefore transforms and becomes more mature than before.  One key step in this journey is navigating a healthy life in community--not to be dependent on others but interdependent with others.  In ¡Gracias! (a Latin American journal that I´m currently reading), Henri Nouwen describes how gratitude of the individual greatly affects the community.  In fact, it paves a path that allows our companions and intimates to discover their gifts and abilities.  This in itself, though, can only bring a person so much happiness.  Nouwen says that helping others recognize their gifts does not alone sustain long term joy and real gratitude.  Real joy can only come from meeting the Master Divine in the community we find ourselves living and serving.  Receiving the ¨Lord himself¨ as the Gift.  (Matthew 25:40)

 

I must find ¨the Divine treasure hidden in the hearts of the people in my community¨ (Henri Nouwen, ¡Gracias! 19-20). When I choose to see the Master in his children and in the least of these, then I am truly receiving his love and allowing it to pass through me unto others.  ¨The true skill of ministry is to help fearful and often oppressed men and women become aware of their own gifts, by receiving them in gratitude.¨ (p. 19)  In receiving each child of God as a gift from the Master, in seeing his face in the suffering, I am in-turn receiving the Master Divine.  Precious are the moments when Christ is welcomed and received in community.  As servants of the Divine among us, acknowledgement of hospitality and gratitude are critical in accepting the Divine among our community.  This is a key truth to understand''we are not bringing goodness to God or even to others for God, it is God who brings all the goodness to us. 

 

God also brings it out of us.  When my teammate and I work harmoniously together, as we clean the bathroom at Missionaries of Charity, the harmony exists as a gift of the Spirit--inviting us to keep step with the Divine´s timing.  When my Bolivian family knows how to serve each other well and even to relate to a foreigner in their midst, it is the Divine influence that evokes this hospitality.  The servant must enter into community with acknowledgement of a holy presence; we are not alone.  The servant must always be aware of the rhythm of the Spirit; for our feet and our hands are not ours alone--we belong to Something greater.

 

Amen

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Vocation: A Call to Follow

As many of you know, my experience in El Alto as a Servant Team member with Word Made Flesh is well underway.  As required by my Servant Team leader I´ve begun reading Henri Nouwen´s ¡Gracias!.  And in this journal he describes that his journey to live in Peru and Bolivia for six months was immersed in the theme of calling, particularly to answer: "Am I called to live and serve God in Latin America?"  He described that as the time came closer for him to travel to Lima, the more and more affirmed Nouwen felt in his decision to go. He felt it was what he was supposed to do in order to answer the previous question.  Indeed a person cannot really know the answer to such questions as "Am I called to live/work in (insert field/place)?" unless they live out the question.  It has been said that the journey into the answer is in fact more important than the answer itself.  So as I follow into what God has invited me, I must take up the task of¨"living the question" (as Rilke has put it, Letters to a Young Poet) of calling.

 

I will attempt to identify the main themes of calling as I live and serve with Word Made Flesh, in El Alto.  I believe that the first theme that confronts me is that of humility.  Not only does it take humility to follow the Divine into territory previously unknown to self, it requires humility to successfully enter.  I would venture to say a humility that a human does not normally possess.  I´m not speaking of a mere entering, visiting, photo-taking the way of the tourist entering.  To really enter is a process of identification, understanding, and compassion--the way of Christ, as he literally moved into the neighborhood. Since I´m not even a degree as perfect as Christ, I must allow my whole being to be re-shaped, ever stumbling, as I learn how to be a human again, in this new culture.  To enter into a new culture requires a constant observation, a control of ones tongue, a dedication to quietness (at times even silence), and an attitude of gratitude. 

 

I would agree with my mentors in that living with a Bolivian family, right away, enhances the experience of acquiring a new language and becoming more at home in this culture.  My family (whose names omitted to protect their identities) are my best teachers and I can only pray that I will be a good student. 

 

So here´s a little antidote about my context of calling.  Amerindians have lived in Bolivia for thousands of years.  They Aymara has controlled most of Western Bolivia from the 1300s until the Inca of Peru conquered them and expanded their empire over the region of Bolivia. In the 1530s the Spaniards made Bolivia a colony called "Upper Peru" and they poured in by the thousands when silver was discovered in 1545.  The path to independence was led by a revolutionary named Simon Bolivar (whom the country is named after) in the early 1800s. Since then most of Bolivia´s history has consisted of nearly 200 coups and counter-coups.  The country has been ruled by many a dictators and only recently has a president, Evo Morales, for the people been placed in power. 

 

Here is a quote from my orientation manual about our immediate context:

     "El Alto, where we work, is populated mostly by the indigenous Aymara... the Aymara have been under some form of domination for most of their history.  They are a gentle, polite, hardworking people.  Often, they have moved from the campo (countryside) within the past generation.  Strong political and social activism often results in blockades, parades, and social demonstrations, sometimes daily."

 

Interestingly enough, there haven´t been as many demonstrations since the election of Morales in 2005.  When they do happen though, they are received as if its a part of the way of life and they are resolved according to commonly practiced procedures.  For example, the police and union workers clear vacant spaces in the roads for dynamite explosions--so only the road is affected.  Thus after needs are met or changes are made, life normalizes pretty rapidly. 

 

These are just a couple realities of my new home that I must patiently understand and incorporate into my new pattern of life. As I begin to read in a new language and think with new expressions, I return to the vulnerability of an young child.  So as I follow the Master along this path, I must take each step with an increasing trust.

 

Yesterday, Cara, led us on a walk of silence from the heights of El Alto (taking several micro-buses along the way) into the city of La Paz. I discovered that as I quieted my tongue and therefore my mind, my perception increased and I could hear more clearly. I could not only hear my environment more clearly, but also the whispers of the Master. Henri Nouwen reminded me of this when he said how unfortunate it is that thinking can deter true listening. Christ preached that if we can hear and truly listen, we can actually turn and be healed.

 

As I follow this calling into my new home in Bolivia, I pray that I may further quiet my mind so that I am more opened to the fullness of what the Master has for me. In this new place, mass transit of people and goods seems to exacerbate the over congestion, and yet there is a humble quietness about the people (despite the toots of their car-horns) that allows the drivers to be courteous and un-bothered. It could be just an acceptance of the reality of space, but something tells me that they see other vehicles as "people" because they´re really listening and ready to perceive.  May this also be true within me. 

Exploring the Call: an introduction to a series on vocation and service.

When observing a friend or coworker enjoying her craft have you ever heard the comment "I feel like I was made for this?" Or calculating his task with beautiful diligence, has someone ever told you "I'm in my element; I live for this stuff?" One time a friend discussed with me the decision to alter a pattern of her work and studies. She recounted that through the process she felt a great tension was lifted from her, because it was as if "she was no longer like a knife attempting to scoop up green peas, but a knife cutting a tender piece of steak. " This idea captures a beautiful truth that we know exists deep within the human soul; that humans long to fit into a purpose in life. The hunger is so deep within us that I would argue (I'm definitely not the first) that our nature has been designed to include it--a calling on our lives.

While I make preparations to embark on my journey to Bolivia, discussing vocation makes for a worthy subject. Addressing the process of answering "one's calling" in particular is central to what I'll explore as I live and serve in La Paz, Bolivia. The very prospect of celebrating service and participating in a community that revels in the power of Christ at work among the powerless rests on faith in the wisdom of God and God's supremacy in determining the steps of those who heed Divine instruction.

At the time of writing this introduction, the length and breath of this series remains open ended. My hope, though, is this: that I thoughtfully and succinctly address the most relevant topics to seeking to fulfill a vocational calling. In the posts that follow I wish to address the general themes that are associated with calling. I hope that the posts should include not only the thoughts and musings from my own worldview (that of a evangelical Christian), but also perspectives held by cultural and ideological persuasions that differ from my own. I will not claim to perfectly represent all positions on any matter, but as opportunities come I will include supplementary sources and perspectives as I'm inspired to share.

As of this post my about page is incomplete, so I will work in the coming days to also fully introduce myself, my interests, and any other information that will better facilitate a context for understanding my posts.

I will end on two thoughts: first exploring one's calling is not always easy. To take up the task of discerning one's role in the world and in your immediate community we know takes a great deal of effort, learning, and patience. Still the most important tasks entrusted to us are often the most difficult.

Second fulfilling our calling can be just as difficult. Appropriately a friend of mine quoted the famous words of Luther on this subject: Vocational Calling

Sometimes while navigating the arduous path when we finally feel we can make conclusions, we find that we realize that the lesson has just begun. And so, with an enduring patience and a love of beauty we must commit to reach our goal; to discover truth for our neighbor and ourselves. For it is in Truth that we know we find freedom. I'm excited that we begin this journey together.