"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.

"They don't care about us."

These were the words spoken to me by Mr. Harold Brown, a life-long resident of New Orleans.  We were standing on the lawn of his newly-built but not finished and already falling apart house, thanks in no small part to corrupt government practices from local to national levels, to corrupt contractors, and to sleezy family members.  Mr. Brown is 68 years old, losing his vision, and has no where else to go.  Katrina wiped out his livelihood - a fish market business and 10-unit apartment building and after a few years living in Houston in a flop-house (at $75/night) and paying $10 for meals (subsidized by FEMA money that finally ran out), he returned to his house only to find everything inadequate.

The whole story is a tragic nightmare. What is haunting me, however, are the words "they don't care about us."  It is far too easy to align myself with his statement, and to point the finger at politicians and sleeze-bag, greedy contractors and family members. I am sure that, simply because I was standing with Mr. Brown on this sunny, brisk Tuesday, he would not include me in this "they."  But is this really accurate. How much do I really care? Yes, my heart aches, and my blood boils. But is that all?

I don't have easy answers to any of this. I do know that I have to be careful about simply nodding my head and saying "yes they don't care" without taking a deep look at how much I really care as demonstrated by my actions.  I can demand that "they" put more funding into programs, but money was a major part of the corruption as it wound its way through the system with little reaching the ground. I can demand that the corporate exploiters of the region (oil, mostly) clean up their act, but I too like my lights and heat. I know that I can do more to raise awareness, to call on all of us to look around us to see where we might be fooling ourselves as we align with people in these kinds of circumstances.  Even as I attended a Quaker Meeting the Sunday after returning from NOLA, I could not help but notice that, out of 100 people in attendance, the lack of economic and racial diversity is jarring. Is this a true reflection of what it means to care?

In the Book of John, Chapter 9 in the Bible, there is the story of Jesus restoring sight to a blind man.  There is a back-and-forth with the Pharisees about whether it was the blind man or his parents who were the sinners that caused the blindness, or whether Jesus had devilish powers because of his ability to restore sight. Ultimately, what Jesus reminds us is this: it is not a sin to be blind.  The sin is to claim to see.  So, while I can see Mr. Brown's point that "they don't care", I have to be careful not to overlook my own part in this.  It is a blindspot that I might take comfort in, but it is one that will blind me to seeing the hard work, personal commitments and sacrifices we must make to bring justice to these kinds of situations.  It is humbling that it takes the words of a man losing his sight for me to try and open mine.

Giving Thanks

It's the season of reflection and appreciation.  There is much to be thankful for, so here are a few:

• Janie Boyd.  Her spirit, wisdom and love just about move me to tears when I am with her.  And now she has me hooked on getting out to the farm as often as possible to pick greens in the morning, an amazing way to start the day.
• Rob Farley and Margot Eyring.  The breakfast they host every weekday morning at Capitol Hill Methodist Church humbles me, and the daily reflection often really hits home.
• The American Institute for Urban Psychological Studies, Dr. Grady and Helen Dale.  I met Helen when she was hosting a workshop at William Penn House, and they invited me to speak about HIV and depression at their conference on depression in Baltimore in October.
• The Southeast White House.  Sammy, Scott, Tina, Kathy, Ernest, and everyone who regularly partake in the fellowship lunches - if only the rest of the world could show the hospitality you do, we really could have peace in the world. 
• Brian Rodgers and his vision for a sustainable and healthy community in places many people would rather ignore even exist.  Your wisdom and quiet leadership are a model for all.
• Friends in Pine Ridge, SD, Caretta and Buckhannon, WV.  As I've learned from the High Horse family and the Sundance, annual traditions that are sacred help keep the cycles going.  For me, you are all part of that cycle.  And to Mike Gray - you continue to show what real commitment is.  
• Goodtherapy.org, for the opportunity to hone my clinical skills and to share my passion for integrating HIV prevention into the broader clinical/helping professions.  
• Byron Sandford - for his selfless dedication to doing whatever it takes to keep William Penn House going.  And to Josh, Ana and Allison - you've been great this fall during a busy transition.  
• Katy Swalwell (author of "Educating Activist Allies"), whose academic research has been affirming the spirit of how we have been developing Workcamps intuitively.  I look forward to an exciting future together.
• All the Workcamp participants, especially those who humble me with your on-going friendship and continued participation.  For the youth among you - especially those who take time to really question what difference we can make - you give hope for a bright future.  
• People I've met in Kenya, Israel and Palestine.  You remind me that we are all in this together, and I hope to continue to be an ally and friend as we struggle together to bring peace and health to our families everywhere.    
• There is also my family (Walter, mom, dad, sis, bros, steps, halves) - you mean the world to me and know how to keep me in my place, even when I don't want to be there.  And to "all my relations" - past and present - you are always with me.  
• Dogs.  Doesn't matter whether I've met you or not, you embody all that is good - love, play, being in the moment.    

These are the reasons I wake up in the morning with enthusiasm and anticipation.  You affirm my Franciscan/Benedictine/Quaker belief that when we seek the goodness in others, stay open to listening and understanding others, connect with a loving heart, and stay committed to a more peaceful world, it just might be possible.  From the bottom of my heart, thanks!

Brad Ogilvie

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."

Mrs. Janey Boyd: A model of mercy in our midst

Over the past few years, I have had the opportunity to connect with Janey Boyd.  Janey is in her mid-80's, a long-time DC resident (over 60 years), and has been in food justice work going back to the Kennedy administration.  Our connection has been through the Mid-Atlantic Gleaning Network where she helps get crops from fields to poor families of all ages  We share a belief that when we work together, we can solve the world's problems better than when we myopically choose sides or focus on single issues.  She is the kind of person who breezily says children can't learn in schools if they don't get proper nutrition, which is why we can't let those good foods on the farms go to rot, but instead get them into the stomachs.  This sums up our work together.

Mrs. Boyd with Harford Friends School

Despite knowing her over these two years, it was only this past month that I got to personally meet her.  All previous communications had been by phone.  Last week, with a Workcamp group from Franklin, TN, we went twice to her house to drop off fresh collared greens and kale that we had gleaned from a local farm, and I stood in awe as Mrs. Boyd connected with the kids with her message of love, hope and justice.  Her commitment for speaking truth was on display as she told stories of confronting aldermen and judges on elder-care issues, and at the same time motioning for a car to slow down in her alley ("I'm not waving at you, I'm telling you to slow down", she said Friday afternoon as a car drove by).

This morning, I read this in my daily Bonhoefer:

The Merciful

"Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy."

These persons without possessions, these strangers on earth, these powerless people, these sinners, these followers of Jesus, have in their life with him renounced their own dignity, for they are compassionate.  As if their own needs and their own poverty were not enough, they take upon themselves the needs and humiliation and sin of strangers.  They have an irresistible love for the down-trodden, the sick, the wretched, the degraded, the oppressed, for those who suffer unjustly, for the outcast, for all who are tortured with anxiety.  They go out and seek all who are enmeshed in the toils of sin and guilt.  No distress is too great, no sin too appalling for their compassion...They will be found consorting with publicans and sinners, careless of the shame they incur thereby.  In order that they may be compassionate they cast away the most priceless treasure of human life, their personal dignity and honor.  For the only honor and dignity they know is their Lord's mercy, to which they owe their very lives.

- from A Testament to Freedom 315-316

This sums up Janey Boyd to me.  From her planting of seedling tomatoes to give away, to her connecting people to service and food, to her speaking her truth to the most powerful, she inspires me.  She is a woman of limited financial means, but endless energy and love that she gladly shares with any and all. I am honored to know her and to share her with others.  May she inspire more to be as merciful as she is.   

Recent Lessons in Humility

“The life that intends to be wholly obedient, wholly submissive, wholly listening, is astonishing in its completeness. Its joys are ravishing, its peace profound, its humility the deepest, its power world-shaking, its love enveloping, its simplicity that of a trusting child.” - Thomas Kelley

“What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” - Micah 6:8

During the past week, I have thought a lot about humility and what it means, because in the last week, several friends have canceled prearranged plans due to either snow or personal emergencies. None of this has bothered me. Life happens, yeah some of the plan changes threw off my schedule a little, but all of the cancellations actually gave me more time to breathe, so they were gifts in disguise.

One friend has repeatedly apologized for her not showing up at an event that we planned together. She had let me know before the event, so I knew about it as soon as she knew she couldn't make it. I have been in her shoes several times feeling like I have let people down when stuff happen to me. But life happens no matter if my calendar had something else planned.

Then this past weekend, a major snowstorm hit DC hard. It snowed straight for more than 24 hours and dumped more than two feet of snow. I was supposed to attend a retreat this weekend, but it was canceled the day before due to the weather forecast. One of the organizers was upset at this; a feeling which I totally understand. Similar things have happen to me and I have felt that same feeling of being upset that I just spent so much time planning something that will never happen and I have felt defeated like I had spent all that time for nothing.

Now I see all of these times during the past week and beyond as ways to keep myself humble, because it just reminds me that no matter how much I plan or try to control my life, something bigger than me is always in control. I believe that God has plans for me and God will reveal them to me little by little. Living on God's time is not easy and being humble is not always simple. It requires putting aside my ego and fully submitting to a greater power. When I have, amazing things have happen, like finding my dream job. Thomas Kelly's quote resonates with my few experiences when I obeyed and submitted. I have felt more alive during these times, because I had been fully present during these times.

Part of the weekend, I was unexpectedly snowed in at a friend's house a couple miles away. I had wanted to weather the storm in my house where I had stocked up on food, but the snow came down faster than I had thought and I was stuck. That night, as I was snowed in, I watched the Bill Maher's documentary, Religulous that my friends had from Netflix. For much of the film, he mocks organized religion. Several times he asks hard questions and the interviewee cannot answer, such as Couldn't the writers of The Bible made everything up? He uses this as proof that organized religion is a clutch for the week-minded.

As I watched the film, I felt like I had no answers to many of the questions he asked. I started to think, maybe I am weak in my faith and Bill has a good point. But I realized faith isn't about answering questions, but about believing in something far greater than myself. I have known God experientially, not through answering questions.

Part of humility for me is knowing that I do not always have quick and ready answers to questions about my faith and I should not pretend that I do. I continue to ask myself many hard questions daily: Was it in God's plans to have a snow storm this weekend or does God control the weather really? Or why did the earthquake hit Haiti and kill 100,000 people while I am living safely in a warm house in the richest country with a nice job? Are these events really part of God's plans? Like I said before, I do not know any answers to these hard questions and I won't attempt to answer these questions, but what I do know is that I have felt God working in my life before and I know that God is still working in my life, so I will continue everyday trying, as Micah suggested thousands years ago, 'to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God'.