The Consequences of Deciding Who Needs Our Service

I recently completed a course called "The Mind-Body-Energy Toolkit". The class was mostly geared towards people working in mental health as clinicians (as I do in addition to my work at William Penn House), but I find that what I learn in these classes also has applications in all of our community work and in Quaker Workcamps. After all, when it comes to addressing the large social justice issues, we have to remember that we are all humans first, and as human we have some basic psychological processes that transcend all the silos we like to create to divide us. Unfortunately, I have often noticed that when it comes to service programs and creating funding, policies and protocols, basic truths about psychology are often neglected. How else to explain why very smart people continue to address issues such as stigma by targeting people for service and engagement. It only reinforces the stigma.

In this class, the instructor, Dr. Robert Schwarz, a specialist in Comprehensive Energy Psychology, effectively demonstrated how moods and thoughts influence energy - our own as well as that of those around us.  In class demonstrations, "energy" was measured by muscle resistance. People had less energy both when they were asked to think thoughts, and when we were asked to think negative thoughts of volunteers, unbeknownst to them. We all know this: the more optimistic or good we feel about things, the more energy we have. But what are the implications of this when it comes to how we engage in well-meaning service work from a model that often relies on assumptions of what people need without knowing them?

It is both an honor and a responsibility we take seriously, and that responsibility includes trying to
bridge the gaps between what social sciences show us and how we engage in social justice work. The challenge is raising awareness about the importance of engaging with people at the personal level rather than at the level of assumptions. Often we hear reflections about how different people are, or how much we feel good about helping those in need. As Lilla Watson is often quoted, "If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together." It is this spirit - the spirit of unification - that we know sustainable change and peacemaking takes place. The "us/them" divide, even in well-meaning service efforts, still serves as division and requires a certain level of judgment about others and their needs that can negatively influence the energy flow of healing and possibility that we are trying to bring about.

So, as much as understanding history, and some of the disciplines of environment, climate change, culture, history and nutrition when we set out to do service, it is perhaps as important to consider the role of psychology, mirroring neurons and energy as a primer of service learning and experiential learning. It's not what we think, but how we connect, that matters. Planting the seeds of awareness about this are important. As Quakers are fond of saying, "There is that of God in All." Mirroring neurons flowing from positive thoughts and open hearts help to create the energy to truly let this be of peacemaking service to the world.

Words of War

Two consecutive Sundays. Two different Monthly Meetings. Two different states. One remarkably similar message reflecting on the popular Quaker query making the rounds: “How does your life help to remove the causes of war?” followed by a reference to “War is not the Answer.” 

Increasingly, I wonder how useful these ruminations serve Quakerism, especially as they seem to become an increasing part of congregational vernacular. And when these messages are also proudly displayed to the public, I wonder whether they are an admonition to others that they should be like us, and then how much does that help us live our faith.  The “causes of war” are so vast and complex, but war is really, in my mind, simply a part of the spectrum of violence that includes greed, power, fear, hunger, faith, love, education, institutionalization, nationalism, rigidity, and religion, just to name a few. A better query might be something like “What can I do today to break the cycles of violence?” 

The focus on “war” in these messages raises two thoughts for me. First, in Quaker circles, the action that often follows is a call to cut military spending. It is an over-simplification that ignores some of the realities of our society. If you visit many of the neglected parts of our country – rural areas as well as urban – you will hear many people say they want to join the military. This is not because they love war, but because the military is one of the few legal options many people have to get out of otherwise dire circumstances where employment and education are scarce and violence and drugs are rampant. As manufacturing jobs continue to disappear, there is little else currently on the horizon that is a viable option. In addition, we should recognize that the military also engages in many peace-making and emergency rescue operations. Given the small numbers of Quakers, we might want to engage in building an infrastructure to replace some of these rather than spending a lot of time, energy, faith and money on the notion that we can get the politicians running the massive bureaucracy to do the right thing. It’s a bottom-up approach, but when numbers are small, sometimes bridge-building and doing the small things can have the greatest impact.

Then there is the word “war” itself. It is a word that evokes negative imagery and energy, but in doing so allows us to gloss over all the ways that we participate in the cultural, environmental and economic injustices that perpetuate the cycles of violence. “War” is something that is easy to say others do. Focusing on war has a way of externalizing and, subsequently, absolving us from our culpability.  

Often I hear Quakers being described (at times self-described) as “against war” or, more interesting to me, “not believing in war.” As a pacifist, I have come to appreciate that we have to not only think but act deeper. I do believe in violence. I see it every day, and I abhor it. The power of Quakerism is not in our stance against war but in the oft-cited belief that “there is that of God in All”. When we can use this to steel ourselves to compassionately break down the barriers of classification that serve to divide us from our neighbors and fellow global community members, we are getting more to the root causes of violence – the real work of pacifism. Instead of the harsh messages full of words like “not”, “don’t”, and “war” that affirm little but evoke violent images, having positive words that invite positive energy and imagery would be a nice change. Words do matter.  

"Outside the Gates": Why Diversity won't come from within

I am currently reading "Disquiet Time: Rants and Reflections on the Good Book", a collection of writings edited by Jennifer Grant and Cathleen Falsani. I know both these women through Wheaton College connections, and find their work inspiring as they reflect the growing convergence of deep faith and social liberalism.

One of the chapters, "Running from 'Healing' to Healing" by Dr. Calenthia Dowdy, is a reflection on Mark 11:17: "Is it not written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations'? But you have made it a den of robbers." Dr. Dowdy writes about her experiences with churches and that she often found more affirmations for her talents and calling in transracial/cross-cultural ministry outside the church. She writes about how churches "loved having me in their congregation, but their objective was to change me - to heal me?- instead of recognizing that we could transform each other in community with one another." She includes a quote from Orlando Costas: "Salvation lies outside the gates of cultural, ideological, political, and socio-economical walls that surround our religious compound and shape the structures of Christendom. It is not a ticket to a privileged spot in God's universe, but rather a freedom for service." She concludes with "We are whole when we are outside the church gate, face-to-face and shoulder to shoulder with the grit and grime of a diverse humanity that, like us, is in need of Christ's healing."

As I move in Quaker circles, I often hear about desires in Friends Meetings and organizations to become more diverse. Dr. Dowdy's writing, for me, affirms that this work is not likely to happen when we-self-segregate in our congregations but out in the world. If we gloss over the word "Christ" in Dowdy's writings (at least those for whom the word does not resonate), and replace the word "Christendom" with "Quakerdom", what pearls of wisdom can Friends take from this that may help us understand why we lack diversity on our benches and pews?

Last fall, I wrote about an experience where I also felt like running - and in fact did run - from a Quaker gathering where diversity and racism was much a topic of discussion but not much of a reality among the gathered (see a blogpost about that here). It might behoove many Friends who are serious about becoming more a part of a fabric of diversity to move away from called meetings that talk about this and instead go out in the name of fellowship and service. At William Penn House, we welcome you to join us almost any day of the week with an opportunity to do this, or perhaps take a break from your Meeting for Worship and congregate with others. Sit with the discomfort of how you choose where you go, and how much race, color, politics and theology influence your decision-making. Mix it up a bit. Become a part of the healing. Isn't that a gift of Quakerism that can only take place when we venture out as Dowdy calls, "face-to-face and shoulder to shoulder with the grit and grime of a diverse humanity"? It's not going to come to us, but it is there for all to embrace.

How does Quakerism influence Hearts and Minds?

It is fairly well-known the political stances of Quakers - especially the liberal, unprogrammed branch - on issues such as energy, the environment, military engagement, and equality. Lobbying on these issues takes up a significant part of Quaker resources - financial as well as human. But how well do we influence people's thinking? I don't mean how much do we influence politics, but how much do we influence the minds of the community that, ultimately, could have greater impact?

I have often wondered how do we go about "expanding the choir", and an article I read this morning has had me thinking more. The article in question points out that big business, despite the obscene amounts of money it pours into lobbying, spends multiple times more into marketing, advertising and public relations not on its products but on the issues. It's why we see warm and fuzzy ads for natural gas and it's why we see Walmart as a sponsor of NPR programs. They are strategically influencing minds - literally infiltrating and altering the way people think that will ultimately influence how they act and vote.

But what do Friends do to counteract this, and why should we do it? Unlike big business, we do not have as clear an end game such as increased sales and profits. Big business is so good at this game that they can influence people to act against their own well-being and better judgment, something we are all susceptible to everytime our materials does not match our politics. But we do have some fairly clear goals and objectives - a more just world, a cleaner environment, greater diversity. In almost any Quaker circle you step in, one if not all of these will fairly quickly emerge, and you will also fairly quickly get connected to the work of AFSC and/or FCNL as the outlet for these. The question remains, for me, however: "What influences are we having on our neighbors, especially those who are not of 'like-mind?'"

As we start to gear up for another election-cycle, and coming off the heels of a troubling last cycle (where, like business, politicians were effective in getting people to keep them in power despite the fact that less than 20% of voters are happy with what we have), perhaps Friends should consider at least adding to the repertoire of how we seek to make an imprint on things, if not directly influence them. Rather than gobbling up candidate signs and bumper stickers, or having more called meetings where we self-segregate and consider what to do, or putting more "War is not the Answer" signs on our lawns and care, we should practice in the art of fellowship where we listen to others with open hearts, challenging our own comforts and assumptions. This does not mean we drop all the other stuff we do, but perhaps that we take time to do something different for a week or two and then see if new possibilities and new allies emerge. It's really about using Quaker process in new arenas, which also means that we would not be telling others how we are led by spirit, but how simply listening for spirit can influence all of us. This is how we are approaching the upcoming Quaker Workcamp season. We invite others to join us and perhaps reallocate how and where they spend precious human capital, and see if, as we have found, this experience re-news faith and hope and re-energizes us for the work to be done.

Mindfulness, Simplicity, Fear and Quaker Workcamps

I just finished reading the book "Mindfulness" by Harvard professor Ellen Langer.  The premise is that mindfulness is much more than a meditative state of consciousness; it is an awareness of choices, and that things have different meanings in different contexts.  One of her main themes is that we often live mindlessly, having assumptions about people, places and things because of the way we have been raised.  We can see this in the divisive nature of our culture and the assumptions we make about people with differing opinions.  We see it in the way we are led by polls and community conversations that give limited options, leading us to think these are the only options.  Her research supports that when people are actively engaged and have many options, they are more likely to stay engaged, to be optimistic, to be healthier and to even live longer.

Much of her writing is in sync with what we strive to accomplish with Washington Quaker Workcamps.  We talk often about options and opportunities, instead of problems.  We talk often about the importance of the journey, not the destination.  A guideline is that there are not mistakes, only opportunities to learn.  By walking to places, we encourage practicing mindfulness about our surroundings.  Through reflection and action, we change the context within which we see ourselves in the world.  All of this is intended to create safe spaces for participants - mostly youth - to see the world as one of opportunities to be embraced and for them to see their own gifts in embracing them.

Two common challenges we run into when planning and running Workcamps that are also reflected in Langer's work are fear and control. They usually go hand-in-hand, and the result is that they often lead to more mindlessness rather than mindfulness.  The desire to create and follow a set schedule blocks our ability to engage in what is going on in the moment.  The fear of upsetting parents can lead to limited options of service - revolving around perceived needs or around false senses of security such as only doing service that guarantees nothing bad can happen.  Not only do these limit the experiences and learning opportunities of the participants, I think they are also doing a disservice by not allowing the youth to actively look at options and make (or at least influence) decisions by engaging in the process of weighing factors such as personal hunger and personal risk.  It does not adequately prepare them to deal with these things as they head off to post-high school lives where the supervision is far less.

In 1 Peter 3: 13-22, the message is about not letting fear stop us from doing what is right, but to also have good reasoning for doing what is right.  At Washington Quaker Workcamps, we do not shy away from conversations about the role that fear and control play in guiding daily action, and how these can lead us to be negligent in our responsibilities.  A fear that a teen may hurt him/herself by climbing a ladder or using a power tool does not adequately prepare that youth for when he/she is no longer at home.  Likewise, concerns that a parent might be upset because his/her youth has to wait 2 hours for dinner while preparing food for homeless people is not a reason to avoid the important experiences and lessons about justice and privilege that are at the root of so many service programs, and a fear of being in close proximity to homeless people who may have mental illness should lead to conversations about how we make assumptions about people and things we have not experienced rather than not going to a fellowship breakfast of mostly homeless folks.

The Quaker Testimony of "Simplicity" is one of the ways to break down some of this fear and control.  "Simplicity", in this context, is in the Benedictine tradition of striving to let go of assumptions of what we have been told about other people or places so we can be open to seeing what is with our own eyes.  When we tell people that certain neighborhoods in our own town are unsafe (even though we may send them to places just as unsafe in other cities or countries), we perpetuate closed assumptions rather than open wonder. When we engage with something or place that is new to us, our eyes are open. The right thing to do is to engage, create, collaborate, and inspire curiosity, not to perpetuate fear through assumptions. It is not only right for the benefit of Quaker Workcamp participants, but it is right for bringing greater justice and peace to the world.

Reflections with Bonhoeffer

Sometime in the last year, I started reading a daily reflection with writings of Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  I had read portions of some of his books, but he is very heavy and I find it hard to digest too much at one time, so this book has been great.  Just small but often heavy doses once a day.  What I have also found helpful, as I read some of his writings, is that since I do not consider myself a trinitarian Christian as he clearly is, that by secularizing his language I find his message more accessible.  The basic translation I find helpful  - and I hope still keep with the spirit of his writings, given his messages of inclusiveness, love and humility - is to consider "Christian communities" as "loving communities", "Christian service" as "loving service", and so on.  My belief is that God is a loving God, and our calling is to be loving people towards all, so it works for me.

Periodically, in this blog space, I'll be putting a writing of his that moves me and seems applicable to the work of William Penn House and Quaker Workcamps.  Yesterday's message was one such message, especially as it was a day that we were doing a few hours of service with students from Baltimore Friends School.

"The basis of all pneumatic, or spiritual reality, is the clear call to love and to live with grace.  At the foundation of all psychic, or emotional reality are the dark, impenetrable urges and desires of the human soul - the ego. The basis of spiritual community is truth; the basis of emotional community is desire.  The essence of spiritual community is light. For 'God is light, and in God there is no darkness at all' (1 John 1:5); and 'if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another' (1 John 1:7).  The essence of emotional, self-centered community is darkness, 'for it is from within, from the human heart, that egotistical intentions come' (Mark 7:21).  It is the deep night that spreads over the sources of all human activity, over even all noble and devout impulses.  Spiritual community is the community of those who are called by love and grace; emotional community is the community of pious souls.  The bright love of service, fellowship and grace lives in the spiritual community; the dark love of pious-impious urges burns in the self-centered community.  In the former, there is ordered, loving service; in the latter, disordered desire for pleasure.  In the former, there is humble submission one to another; in the latter, humble, yet haughty subjection of other people to one's own desire."