Waiting...and finding Peace

I love Christmas time- the cookies, decorations, lights, candles, hot chocolate, snow, Christmas music, and being with family and friends.  But I also realize that my love for Christmas goes much deeper.  In part my deeper love for Christmas is for the love of the celebration of Jesus' birth, but it's also about the celebration of what Jesus' birth (and death and resurrection) means in my life and in the lives of people all around the world.

Even with all the distractions of life and Christmas, I think about El Salvador and my Salvadoran friends and acquaintances all the time.  Not a day goes by that I don't think of my Salvadoran friends and acquaintances.  Many of my thoughts are thoughts of concern: Are they ok?  What are they struggling with today?  What needs haven't been met this week?  When will the next emergency or crisis be?  

But I also think about signs of hope and a better future for the Salvadorans.  I usually have to challenge myself to think about the positives, but when I do the rewards are great.  When I really think about it I realize that there are so many reasons for hope.  There are so many reasons to have faith that things will get better.

Advent is the season of waiting, and I have been thinking a lot about waiting.  We are waiting for the birth of Jesus, but more than that, Advent reminds us that we are waiting for the better world that is to come.  One day we will all share in a feast where no one will go hungry and no one will be thirsty.  The sick will be healed.  The mourning will mourn no more.  The enslaved and oppressed will be free.  One day God's Reign will be present on the earth and there will be justice.  But until that day we are here to watch and work and wait. 

Salvadorans have had to become very good at waiting.  They waited for the war to end.  They waited (and continue to wait) for government leaders who will always keep the best interests of the people their first priority.  They wait for the corn and the beans to grow so they can feed their families.  They wait for family in the US to send money so they can afford food, shelter, and education for their children.  They wait for the day when they can ride a bus without fear.  They wait for the day when violence will no longer be a daily part of life.  The Salvadorans wait for the justice that will come with the Reign of God.

The Salvadorans wait and I wait with them...we all wait for that better world.

Thinking about the better world gives me an overwhelming sense of peace.  It comforts me to know that one day, perhaps it will be generations from now, Salvadorans (and all people around the world) will not suffer as they do.  

Even with this image of the possibilities of a better world, the sense of peace I feel does not leave me passive.  A better world will not come about just thinking about it and waiting.  We do need to wait but not idly.  When a family is expecting a baby, they don't just sit around for nine months and wait for the baby.  They prepare for the baby.  Likewise, we must anticipate that better world, we must prepare ourselves and our world for what is to come (but all the while recognizing that it is only though God's grace and love that the better world will come about).    

A greater sense of peace comes when I recognize the ways in which that better world is already present in our broken world.  Sometimes I (and perhaps you) need to slow down and intentionally look for that better world but it is here now.  I see it in the beauty of creation, in the innocence of children, in the thousands of people who are dedicated to non-profit work.  I see a better world in churches where the members are putting their faith into action to change the world.  I see the better world in my classmates who have dedicated their lives to working for justice, for that better world.  And I see the possibility of a better world in the eyes of friends who firmly believe in that better world and are dedicated to making it a reality.

I also find great peace in this season of Advent as we are awaiting the arrival (again) of Jesus.  There is peace in knowing that we have a God of peace and a savior of peace.  Even thought it may not always seem like it, the God of peace is present throughout the world, in every single person and part of Creation.  We just need to take the time to find Jesus in the world and when we do take that time we will also find peace.

When I started writing this blog post I hadn't planned to write about finding peace, but in reflection and writing this I have found peace.  It took me a long time to decide on a title for this blog (Searching for Peace), but I eventually chose that title because that title encompasses so much of what I have been doing and what I see myself doing for the rest of my life.  I find it difficult to continually search for peace, especially in a world that seems to be any but peaceful.  I often let my search stop, I sometimes feel like giving up the search, and sometimes I do give up.  But Christmas reminds me that I need to return to that search.  Christmas reminds me that the Prince of Peace (Jesus) has already graced the world with his presence and continues to be present.  Christmas reminds me that there is peace in the world and one day there will be complete and perfect peace...one day...  

I think that without realizing it my love for Christmas has been because of the sense of peace that comes with Christmas- the sense of peace that I have within as well as the peace that is already present in the world yet not fully evident or expressed.  This year when all the presents are unwrapped, the Christmas tree is put away, and only the "yucky" Christmas cookies are left, I'm going to try my hardest to remember the peace I feel and know now and I will continue to wait for and seek out that peace.     

May your season of Advent be filled with hope.  And may you find peace in knowing that a better world is possible and is present among us already.

Taking Steps in the Right Direction

My last post was about a sad anniversary and today's post is about another sad anniversary (sorry for the sadness- I'll try to write a really happy post next time, but no promises).  

Twenty-one years ago six Jesuit priests and two women were murdered by the Salvadoran army at the University of Central America (UCA) in San Salvador.  The priests were murdered because they spoke out against the violence being committed in El Salvador and the Salvadoran government/army did not like this.  Most of the violence was being committed by the Salvadoran state, but the Jesuits also spoke out against violence being committed by other groups like the guerrillas.  The Jesuits did not discriminate when speaking out against violence.  No matter who was doing it, these Jesuits declared violence was wrong.  For speaking out and being a voice for the victims of the violence, the Jesuit priests became victims of violence themselves.  See my post where I wrote about my visit to the University of Central America for more info.

Thousands of people are heading to Fort Benning, Georgia this weekend to protest the School of the Americas (aka the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation, WHINSEC).  The School of the Americas is a military training school that has trained many members of Latin American armed forces including the Salvadoran battalion that was responsible for the massacre of the Jesuits.  Many of the graduates of the school have gone on to commit grave human rights abuses.  The protest this weekend is the 20th annual non-violent protest which began on the first anniversary of the massacre of the Jesuits and the two women at the University of Central America.  Please keep the protestors in your thoughts and prayers this weekend as they march for peace and justice especially for the people of Latin America.  

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about what I am willing to do and what I am willing to give up for the things I believe in.  Reflecting on the massacre at the University of Central America (UCA) has given me further things to think about and challenge me.  The Jesuits at the UCA knew that speaking out against the violence in El Salvador put them in real danger, and yet they continued with their work.  They were willing to give up their safety and their lives in order to stand up for the poor and those who were suffering in El Salvador during the civil war.  So the question is: Am I willing to do what they did (speak out against the status quo and plead for peace, even when it's not the popular thing to do) and am I willing to give up what they did (their lives)?  I can probably say "yes" to the former and "I just don't know" to the latter.  It is obviously very difficult to say what I would do in their situation because I'm not in their situation and it is very difficult to try to imagine it.  Nevertheless, I can say that I firmly believe that there should be peace and justice in the world, but unless I'm willing to do whatever it takes and give up whatever it takes I'm not sure that I really believe what I say I believe.    

Even if I'm not quite ready or strong enough to say "absolutely, yes!" to following the example of the Jesuits at the UCA, their example and the example of so many other martyrs challenges me and gives me hope.  I can look at the lives of the Jesuit martyrs and see specific examples of what it means to be a Christian and to work for justice.  

In my post that I referred you to above, I wrote about one of my favorite theologians, Jon Sobrino.  One of the reasons why I love and admire Jon Sobrino so much is that even after his co-workers at the UCA were massacred, he continued on.  Jon was out of the country when his Jesuit brothers were murdered, but Jon went right back to El Salvador and picked up where they left off.  And he continues to this day to be a voice for the voiceless and to speak out against violence and injustice- no matter how much trouble it might get him in.  How many other people would continue to do the very same thing that got their friends killed?  I think Jon Sobrino is one of the few who takes his calling of working for justice so seriously. 

There are also so many other lives that I can emulate and learn from.  And it's not just "important" people like Jon Sobrino and the Jesuit martyrs- so many of my Salvadoran friends are just "regular" people and yet they are living their lives in a way that rejects violence and embraces peace.  I'm embarrassed to even begin to compare my easy, American suburban life with the way they live out their faith in radical ways even through incredible difficulties and suffering.  I am reassured to know there are people out there working for a just world and I am reassured and challenged to know that it is possible for me (a "regular" human being) to become a person who works for a just world, even through whatever struggles will come my way.        

Could I be as brave, courageous, faithful, and loving as these Salvadorans?  Highly doubtful.  Are there things in my life I can do to be a little bit more like Jon Sobrino, the Jesuit martyrs, my Salvadoran friends (and Jesus)?  Absolutely.  

So that's what I'll do.  Take steps in the right direction.  Isn't that all any of us can do?  

I came across this article by another amazing Jesuit, John Dear.  John offers some helpful thoughts on the Jesuit martyrs as well as how their death can help move forward us closer to a world of peace and justice.  Perhaps you might find it helpful as well.

Remembering and Mourning

A year ago today, my Salvadoran friend Jorge was murdered by a gang member.  My thoughts and prayers are with his family especially today and I ask that you join in praying.  Please pray for Jorge's family and for all the people around the world whose lives he touched.  As we remember Jorge and his death, keep other Salvadorans in your prayers who have lived through and continue to live through similar tragedies.  Pray for peace where there is violence, pray for love where there is hatred, and pray for healing where there are wounds.

Today is a sad day in many ways.  I mourn the loss of a loving and caring man who lived life to the fullest.  I grieve for Jorge's family who struggles in many ways to live without him.  I think of the many kids who Jorge treated and cared for as a father, even those who weren't his biologically.  I struggle to understand the loss of innocent life.  Beyond Jorge and his family, today has made me think more about the violence in El Salvador than I normally do.  I mourn the loss of the people who are killed everyday in El Salvador because of violence, the violence of gangs and the violence of poverty.

But I'm also trying very hard (yet not being very successful) to remember Jorge's life and the blessings he was given and the blessings he gave.  I'm trying to think about his life and his eternal life, and I'm trying to find the silver lining of this very dark cloud.  But no matter how hard I try to focus on life and blessings, the violent images of his death overtake my mind and weigh down my heart.    

I wanted to be able to spend the day thinking about the life and love of Jorge, yet the dark, violent images of his death have dominated my mind most of the day.  I’m not really sure why it is, but I have very vivid images of Jorge’s death.  I have heard multiple times the story of how he was killed and we drove past the spot where he was killed a few times when I was there this summer.  I guess the images have formed in my mind from hearing the story and being in the place.

Today, even when I was able to remember and cherish the good memories I have of Jorge, the trail of memories going through my mind always ended in the vivid image of his death.  The power of death and violence is strong and controlling- death and the violence of Jorge’s death have come to define the way I remember Jorge.  It seems even I, a person desperately searching for peace, cannot overcome the power of violence.  But that’s not the way I want it to be and that’s not the way that Jorge or anyone else would want Jorge to be remembered.  I’m not sure that it would be possible to separate the memory of Jorge from his death, and this isn’t something that we would want to do.  But I (and maybe others who are also mourning Jorge’s death on this day) need to think about the power I am giving to violence when I let violence define someone who graciously loved others and life.

In reality love is so much more powerful than anything else.  Just look at the ultimate expression of love: God sending God’s only son to die for the salvation of all.  This act of love has overcome a LOT of violence including Jorge’s death.  Even though I might know this intellectually, love just didn’t seem to be the force that dominated my thoughts and feelings today.  The good news is, God willing, I will have another day tomorrow to try to focus on love, life, and peace rather than violence.

More Grace

Since I wrote the post called Brokeness, Something, and Grace, I have become more and more convinced that the "something" I experienced in El Salvador is indeed grace.  Further reflection, reading some other great stuff, and a class I'm taking have helped me reach a fuller understanding of how it is that the "something" is grace.  And in general I've been doing a lot of thinking about grace (as all good Lutherans should do, right?), so I want to share more about all my thinking and experiencing of grace.

I'm reading a fantastic book by a brilliant man named Dean Brackley.  He is a Jesuit from the U.S. who took on the job of being the rector of the University of Central America (UCA) in El Salvador for 20 years after the previous rector of the university was massacred along with 5 other Jesuit priests and the two women back in 1989 (see my post about the UCA).  The book that I'm reading by Dean Brackley is called The Call to Discernment in Troubled Times and in this book Brackley writes about what it means to be a Christian through lived experiences (rather than just believing a certain doctrine).  Because of Brackley's time in El Salvador and his work among the poor previous to his work in El Salvador, the book focuses on how our interactions and relationships with the poor are especially relevant to helping us understand God's call.

Dean Brackley writes about a young Salvadoran woman, Marta, whose family had been forced to leave their community years before when the Salvadoran army came through.  One day, Marta, stopped by and Brackley invited her for a lunch of chicken.  The young woman gave thanks and then ate the meal.  When Brackley urged her to take a second helping, Marta refused saying that she should not get accustomed to what she could not have.  Brackley writes, "Marta had learned to steward her hunger.  She knew that eating a lot today only makes things worse tomorrow.  I was confused, then a little embarrassed, as the truth of Marta's life sank in.  Not that I should feel bad about eating.  Rather, it is appropriate to feel sorrow that Marta does not eat well- and moved to do something about that."  We should not be paralyzed by guilt because we have more than enough food (and water and clothing and shelter and all our other stuff) while there are millions of people like Marta who do not have enough.  We should not be paralyzed by guilt because of what we have done (directly and indirectly) to bring about the suffering of people like Marta.  It was through Brackley's interaction with Marta that he realizes "The grace-full acceptance by Marta and others like her of people like me places us before and acceptance more radical than their own.  It seems that God has chosen people like them as ambassadors of grace for people like me."

That was a lot of explaining to get to this point, but I think Brackley described the "something" just perfectly.  He experienced something very similar to what I experienced in El Salvador.  It was grace, a small taste of the grace of God.  

My Salvadoran friends, those I met in passing, and those who welcomed me into their homes accepted me just as I am.  There is absolutely no reason why the Salvadorans should have accepted me, welcomed me into their homes, and showed me such gracious hospitality.  If anything, there were far more reasons why the Salvadorans should have just continued on their way and ignored me rather than showering me with the love and hospitality they did.  For one, their hospitality cost them time, food, and money- all things that most Salvadorans don't have a lot to spare.  Second, I was a complete stranger (at least at the beginning) and they had no reason to trust me and no obligation to even take a second look at me.  Third, as an American I represent an entity that has created and intensified a number of things that have been very harmful for the Salvadorans.  The U.S. played a huge role in funding and providing weapons to the Salvadoran government during the civil war in which tens of thousands of Salvadoran were killed and far more were injured and otherwise detrimentally affected.  Today, the U.S. dominates the international trade system in which the average Salvadoran has practically no chance of making a fair wage much less a chance to get ahead.  Our immigration system and our war on drugs add more reasons why Salvadorans should not have embraced and accepted me.  Yet all these reasons and more did not deter the Salvadorans from showing me the grace through loving me and accepting me just as I am.

There are hundreds more reasons why God should not accept my sinful self, and yet God does and always will.  I think that because I experienced the grace of acceptance through the relationships with Salvadorans, I got a taste of what true acceptance feels like.  It is through the grace of God that God accepts me just as I am.  This taste of complete, unconditional acceptance and love from the Salvadorans helped me imagine just how much more I am completely and unconditionally accepted and loved by God.  That "something" that I felt in El Salvador was the grace of Salvadorans but even more it was the grace of God.  Now that I am starting to comprehend the grace I received from my Salvadoran friends, I have gotten a small taste of God's grace.  My brain can only begin to comprehend the fullness of God's grace- to be completely loved and accepted just as I was created not matter what I have done or will do.  And I do feel that grace through a sense of calm and peace.  

While I was in El Salvador and now, I have been trying to figure out how I can continue to feel that “something”, that grace that I felt so strongly while I was in El Salvador.  It has been difficult to continue to feel and recognize the grace of complete acceptance and love without my Salvadoran friends giving me that grace and acceptance they so graciously give.  However, I think now that I better understand what that “something” is and how it connects with God’s unconditional love and acceptance of me I can (maybe) learn to find that grace and acceptance within myself rather than depending on my Salvadoran friends to refresh my sense of God’s grace.  Perhaps part of taking that "something" with me from El Salvador is to give the grace I received to others around me.  I have received so much grace, and in giving that grace to others I can better appreciate the grace I have within myself (if I can give it out, then I will realize that I do indeed have grace in abundance).

But, as usual, such thoughts could not have come without more questions... Why is it that Salvadorans are so much more full of grace and willing to extend that grace than we Americans are?  Is God indeed sending God's grace to me through other people, and if so why did God choose to do it this way?  How does one continue to feel grace and then give out that grace to others?

Some "results" of my "research" in El Salvador

As I mentioned back in May when I was getting ready to leave, one of my main "jobs" while I was in El Salvador was to learn about what the Salvadoran Lutheran Church is doing to prevent and deal with the violence.  It is still my intention to do my final project for my graduate program on the violence in El Salvador, and the informal research that I did while on my trip will be very helpful.  I have mentioned in passing some of what I learned about what the Salvadoran Lutheran Church is doing in response to the violence, but here is a focused and more in depth post on what I learned.

A couple nights after I arrived in El Salvador, I talked with Pastors Matias and Martina about the sort of questions I have about the violence in El Salvador and I asked them some of the questions I had about the role of the Lutheran Church in dealing with that violence.  I told them that I was especially interested what the Church was doing to prevent and reduce the violence.

(I think it is significant to note that when I was talking with the pastors, I did not specifically ask about gang violence.  In my questions I only asked about "violence."  They immediately started talking about gang violence which could mean that they assumed I wanted to hear about gang violence.  Or it could be that for them, as for many other Salvadorans that I met, the word "violence" is synonymous with "gang violence.")  Here is what Pastors Matias and Martina had to say about violence and the role of the Lutheran Church in addressing that violence:  There aren't really any official programs in the Lutheran Church to deal with the gang violence.  It's basically up to the pastors who are working in their own communities to form relationships with those who are involved or are likely to become involved in gangs.  It is through these relationships and speaking the word of God to those that are involved in gangs that the pastors try to reduce gang violence.  

Pastors Matias and Martina said that forming relationships and walking along side those who are involved with or affected by the gangs is far more effective that any official or formal program could be.  The pastors have had experience working with gang members in their pastoral work and they admitted that it is VERY difficult to work with gang members.  In one community in particular where they work, there has been some gang violence.  The pastors organized a meeting with the community members, the mayor, the police, and a few of the gang members.  Of course it wasn't easy to get all these people to agree to go to a meeting with the others, but the pastors stressed that the main objective of this meeting was simply to get all these people together to sit down and just talk with each other in a civil and calm way.  Again this wasn't an official program organized by the hierarchy of the Lutheran Church.  Rather this was the work of Pastors Matias and Martina who saw a need in a community where they work and they discerned a way to try to meet that need for something to be done about the gang violence in that community.  

In all the academic reading that I had done on violence in El Salvador, gang violence was THE violence they talked about with few exceptions.  The Salvadoran news websites that I periodically look at always have some story about gang violence.  Salvadorans that I knew from my first trip to El Salvador had suffered because of gang violence.  And so, almost all my thinking about El Salvador and the violence there was focused on the issue of gangs.  However, after almost two weeks with Pastors Matias and Martina, I was beginning to seriously question the focus of my research.  I had visited all of the Lutheran communities where the pastors work and I didn't hear or see anything that indicated gangs were a problem.  Granted I was in the communities for a limited amount of time and I didn't get to see and hear everything.  With the exception of the one community that Pastors Matias and Martina had mentioned in our first discussion, the gangs are not a problem as far as I know in their other four communities.  But there were many other problems facing the communities that seemed far more important and relevant to the members of the community.  And so I was about ready to give up and totally abandon my research.  Violence just didn't seem to be THE problem for the communities where Pastor Matias and Martina worked, and it didn't seem like working against violence was one of the pastors' main tasks.

But then I realized that it was a different type of violence that was the main concern of the pastors and their congregations.  It wasn't gang violence that they were directly trying to get rid of. 

The issues that members of the community were most concerned about were:

• Problems with schools such as not enough teachers, teachers who weren't properly prepared to do their job, kids misbehaving, kids getting bad grades, kids not being able to go to school because they couldn't get there or because they had to work
• health problems: illnesses, not having money to pay for medicine or to go see a doctor, not knowing what to do for non-serious things like colds, minor cuts, or diarrhea
• Poorly constructed homes, damage from rains
• Not being able to access credit to buy things like a well-built house or to start up a small business
• Not being able to adequately feed children
• Not having ready access to clean water to drink and cook with
• Missing men: the men were off working, have left for the U.S., they aren't going to church, the men are unfaithful to their wives, they don't help take care of the kids 
• No jobs and jobs that don't pay enough

I heard people talk about these sort of problems again and again when I went to the communities where Pastors Matias and Martina work.  And throughout the rest of my stay in El Salvador I heard about these problems again and again.  These issues aren't what we normally think about when we think about violence (we think about things like gang violence), but these issues are a form of violence: structural violence, the violence of poverty.  I was relieved when I realized that I didn't have to abandon my research of violence in El Salvador and the role of the Lutheran Church in addressing that violence.  I simply had to shift my focus from gang violence to structural violence.  Once I did this I started to recognize a whole slew of things the Church and its leaders are doing to address the various forms of violence in El Salvador. 

By no means do I want to downplay the problem of gang violence in El Salvador, because it is indeed a huge problem and it is even getting worse.  Gang members are doing horrific things and the lives of practically all Salvadorans are being affected by the gangs in some way.  However, there are many other forms of violence that must be addressed along with the gang violence if the people of El Salvador will ever have the chance to live in true peace.  Here are some of the things that the Lutheran Church is doing to address the violence of poverty in El Salvador:  

• The Church is helping to address the problems in the schools through: the scholarship programs which require that the students behave well and get good grades, finding teachers who are better qualified to teach, the Lutheran schools, providing a university education that is affordable for all who want to attend, building schools, and encouraging students to strive to get the best education they can
• The Church helps address the injustice of a lack of access to health care by: the pastors giving medicine (mostly donations from people in the U.S.), money for medicine or doctors' visits, or medical advice to the members of their communities.  The Lutheran Church facilitates clinics in the communities when volunteer medical personnel come from the U.S.  Some medical assistance is provided at the Lutheran run homeless shelter, the Hope House.
• Through donations of time and money from people in the U.S., some members of Lutheran churches have been able to construct homes that are sturdy and are worthy of being called houses.  The Church provides shelter for those who would ordinarily have no place else to go- refugees and other people who need a safe place to stay are welcomed at the Lutheran guest house (Casa Concordia) and some people have found shelter at the Hope House.
• The Church provides food to many of the people in communities where there are churches, dozens of people without homes are fed at the homeless shelter, and the Church helps provide food for those in emergency situations like after the flooding
• I saw and heard pastors encouraging men and especially boys and young men to be men of virtue, to go to church, and to provide for their families

The Lutheran Church is helping to provide for these direct needs which is very important, but the Church is also working to change the unjust systems that lead to these problems in the first place.  The Church is providing help to individuals when help is needed, but the Church also recognizes that fundamental change must take place or the injustices will continue.  It seems like the pastors working in their communities are doing the first sort of "helping" while the Bishop and others leaders working beyond the community level are working for this fundamental systemic change.  As my time in El Salvador went along I realized more and more that the Lutheran Church was working hard against the structural violence of injustice (in all its forms) and by doing so they are indirectly working against the gang violence.  I talked about the Church's campaign against violence in a previous post.  

These things give me hope, that life will get better for my friends in El Salvador.  While there may not yet be much specific evidence that things are improving yet, there are so many people who are committed to making things better and are actually doing something to make things better.    

Brokenness, "Something", and Grace

I'm back home in Illinois now. Except for the 12 hours I was home between El Salvador and Canada, I haven't been home for two and a half months. I'm glad to be home, but it's a little bit depressing to be back in the boring suburbs after all the wonderfulness of El Salvador and the Northwoods of Canada. Now I'm getting ready for my next set of adventures...my second year of graduate school and a social ministry internship at my church.


I made the wonderful decision to read (again) a book by Anne Lamott called Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith. Anne Lamott is a brilliant writer. She is so brutally honest about her life and her faith, and it is this brutal honesty that really amazes me along with her incredible insights. As I read this book I found myself nodding in agreement, laughing out loud, and even crying once because she captured in exactly the perfect words what I hadn't been able to find the words for. She has lived through some pretty painful and difficult things and yet she isn't afraid to talk about them, how she was feeling during these experiences, and how these experiences affected her faith at the time as well as years down the road. She makes some brilliant analogies about God, Jesus, and being a Christian. Her writing has spoken to me in the past and rereading this book after my trip to El Salvador has led to some new reflections and perhaps a better understanding of what Anne was writing about as well as a better understanding of my experiences in El Salvador. I really hope that this will make sense, I'm not even sure that it makes sense in my own mind, but hopefully Anne Lamott's words will help make sense of the chaos of my brain.

I continue to think about my heart that was broken in El Salvador. Why was my heart broken? Can it be "fixed"? Has it healed at all? Anne Lamott quotes Eugene O'Neill (an American playwright and Nobel Laureate in literature) who said "Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue." I do believe it is true that we are born broken, knowing nothing, and understanding even less. So if we are born broken, why do I feel like I became even more broken at times while I was in El Salvador? Perhaps we have to be more broken before we can start to be mended, before we can start to become more whole, to understand and to know more about ourselves, our broken world, and our God. Or maybe it just feels like we are becoming more broken when in fact we are in the mending process.

Perhaps is it like when someone gets a really bad broken bone and the doctors have to force it back into place and then use some screws (rather than glue) to put the bone back together. I can't say from personal experience, but I'm sure it hurts something awful. Or maybe it's like when a bone heals the wrong way and the doctors have to rebreak the bone so that it will heal correctly. Maybe rationally and logically it makes sense to re-break a bone so that it will heal correctly, but at the time the bone is being rebroken it may not seem that way for the patient as the bone is being rebroken (even with pain medication).

But if we are to mend, to become whole, maybe we do have to experience that brokenness, to realize through the pain of raw suffering (our own or that of other people) that we are broken, that we do need to mend and that the grace of God can mend us. It is very much God doing the mending, but in my experience my mending has relied heavily on my fellow humans. It is through my interactions with others and it seemed especially through my interactions with Salvadorans that I have mended some, but the mending didn't come without feeling more broken. Maybe we can call it growing pains.

God created each living creature. We humans are born broken (most of us very broken), but God also created community where we can mend and learn and grow. By no means is community easy- sometimes I can't stand being within 100 yards of another human being- and we certainly have difficulty getting along a lot of the time. But we are deeply interconnected- for good or for bad- and we desperately need each other to mend from our brokenness.

Cleaning a wound can be painful, but it is a very important part of making sure something heals. Whether we are cleaning our own wounds or the wounds of others we can more clearly see how deep the wound is and in some cases cleaning the wound may help one see what caused the wound. When I was in El Salvador learning about the wounds (physical and otherwise) caused by violence I was able to learn about the role I and my country had in causing some of the wounds. And I also learned some ways in which I might help clean those wounds and start the healing process.

A 5 year old boy that I nannied for got a splinter in his finger one day while we were out playing on his deck. He didn't cry until I told him that we should try to take the little piece of wood out and clean it. He didn't want me to even touch his finger and even though I told him it would feel better once we took the splinter out, he got hysterical at the thought of the pain that would come as I was taking it out. I told him again and again that it would just hurt for a few seconds and then it would start to feel better real fast. All he wanted to do was put a band-aid over it and he was convinced that this would make everything better. I think maybe we are all like this little boy in that we are very reluctant to do anything that might cause us more pain. It is very easy to remain ignorant of all the pain and suffering going on in the world all around us. I have been guilty of ignoring injustices that are right outside my front door. Why would you want to submit yourself to learning about violence and suffering and injustice when we can just go watch the latest episode of American Idol or The Bachelor? In El Salvador, however, it was impossible for me to not see the wounds of injustice everywhere. And it was clear that these were wounds could not be healed with a "band-aid". They are far too serious to cover up and just try to forget they are there.

I couldn't do much more to heal the wounds of my Salvadoran friends except to listen to their stories and then to tell the stories to my friends and family back home (and even if I don't feel I did much, I do know that listening and being compassionate are so very important and significant). But I think the Salvadorans did far more to help heal my wounds. My wounds and my brokenness do not come from the atrocities of civil war or from the constant fear of gangs or from the violence of a lack of access to health care and food and water. I struggle to name my wounds, but I feel (as many of you may also) that something is missing. In some way I am not whole. Maybe this "something" is something that cannot be put into words but it is something that I spent quite a bit of time talking about with my fellow travel companions the last week of our time in El Salvador. I think it was only through allowing myself to join in solidarity with the Salvadorans and their wounds that I was able to experience this "something" that in turn helped mend my own wounds.

We noticed there is something that Salvadorans have that we don't. Despite our efforts to determine exactly what this "something" is and why Salvadorans have it and why we don't and how we can take it home with us, we didn't get too far in trying to figure it all out. That "something" made me feel truly alive, full of hope, and genuinely happy. Despite the suffering Salvadorans experience and despite the lack of material goods, they have that "something" that gives them faith, hope, love, and happiness.

Even if I don't understand what this "something" is, it was a true gift that I got to experience it along side my Salvadoran friends. However, Anne Lamott talks about gifts that require assembly and I think that this "something" is one of those gifts that requires some assembly. Or maybe it's like one of those dreaded Christmas gifts that says on the box "some assembly required" but what it really should say is "this will take all day to assemble, you need 20 different tools, and not all the parts are really included." This "something" will require me to do some unpacking and then I'll have to try to figure out what it is, how it works, and what to do with it.

Perhaps this "something" is a deep appreciation of life or maybe it is God's love or God's presence or perhaps it is grace, that grace that helps glue us together, to mend our brokenness (or maybe some combination of all of these things or maybe none of the above). If this "something" is indeed grace, Anne Lamott captures my thoughts exactly on this grace: "I don't understand the mystery of grace- only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. It can be received gladly or grudgingly, in big gulps or in tiny tastes." As I have struggled to understand and assemble the gift of grace or whatever this "something" is, I do recognize that I am not where I started. I'm not really sure where it's taking me, but I'm trying to receive it gladly and in both big gulps and tiny tastes.

Anne Lamott also wrote "Everything is usually so masked or perfumed or disguised in the world, and it's so touching when you get to see something real and human." and "I'm pretty sure that it is only by experiencing that ocean of sadness in a naked and immediate way that we come to be healed- which is to say, that we come to experience life with a real sense of presence and spaciousness and peace." In El Salvador things just seemed more real, more raw, more human. Here in my nice suburban home I am surrounded by comfort and nice things and distractions. While my life in my nice suburban home with my nice suburban family and friends certainly isn't bad, but there are things that I just don't see and experience as clearly here as I did in El Salvador. I think it is through seeing things that are real and human that I was able to be mended. It was God's grace that came through God's presence in each person I met in El Salvador. I know that God's grace is everywhere with everyone and I hope that some day I'll be able to feel that grace wherever I am just as strongly as I felt it in El Salvador.

Buses and Families

A while ago I promised a post about the public buses in El Salvador as well as a post about families in El Salvador. I don't want to break my promises and let my readers down, so here you go...

There are tons of public buses in El Salvador, especially in San Salvador. You can pretty much go anywhere in the country by bus (although it may take you a very long time). The majority of people in El Salvador do not have cars, so they can walk, ride a bike (not many Salvadorans can afford bikes and some of the rural roads aren't very biker friendly), hitch a ride in a pick-up truck, or ride the bus. It's rare that a bus isn't crowded. It costs 20 cents for a ride on the bus, 25 cents to ride on a microbus (I don't really know why it's different to ride a microbus, it's still a public bus), and for some buses that go farther out into the rural areas it costs $3. There are buses everywhere and they all look a little different- I'm pretty sure that no two look the same.

Microbuses

old school bus

Some are old school buses from the U.S., some are old Greyhound type buses, some are microbuses. Almost all the buses are decorated in some fashion. Some have awesome paint jobs and most have some sort of decals or stickers on them- anything from Garfield to Jesus to Winnie the Pooh to the Virgin of Guadalupe to flags from various countries.

 I'm pretty sure that there aren't any emission standards in El Salvador and even if there are they definitely aren't enforced. The buses (and a lots of the cars and trucks on the road) let out huge plumes of black and grey and white smoke. It's pretty gross. In addition to the driver, many of the buses have a fare collector. The fare collector, usually a young man, collects the money from the riders, helps people get on and off the bus, tries to recruit riders, and lets the driver know when it's ok to go after people get on or off. Some of the buses are equipped with nice (i.e. very loud) sound systems from which their regaton plays loudly.


When people think about buses in developing countries, a lot of people think about riding on a bus with chickens. I haven't had the pleasure of riding on a bus with chickens in El Salvador, but I can almost guarantee that it happens. If people are going somewhere to sell something, or if they have bought something they are bringing home, they bring it on the bus. Riding the buses in El Salvador was rarely boring. There was always someone or something interesting to look at inside or outside the bus. People would get on and sell little things like candy. Sometimes there was even live entertainment on the bus. A couple of times men with guitars got on the bus and sang a song or two and then walked down the aisle to collect any coins that people offered for his performance. The most amazing thing about these men that sang on the bus was that they were able to stand, play the guitar, and sing all while the bus driver did his best to go as fast as he could over the bumps, over the hills, and around the corners.

The buses in El Salvador have gotten some international press time in the past year or so because the gangs have been killing people on the buses and burning the buses. On many of the bus routes the gangs make the bus drivers pay "rent". The gang members collect money from the bus drivers and in return the gangs say that they will protect the bus drivers or at least leave them alone. However, paying the rent doesn't always ensure that the bus driver will be safe and some bus drivers have been refusing to pay the rent. Sometimes when the drivers on a specific bus route decide that they don't want to give into the demands of the gang and pay the rent they may stop driving the route to protect themselves and to send a message to the gangs. Whether or not the bus drivers pay rent to the gangs, they go to work everyday not knowing if they will return home at the end of the day. It made me a little nervous to ride the buses, and even many of the Salvadorans don't like to ride the buses because you never know what bus will be the next one to be burned by the gangs.



Now onto the families of El Salvador...

I have to admit that my knowledge of Salvadoran families is only based on my experiences with a few families, but I'm pretty sure that my observations do apply to many Salvadoran families.

The best words to describe Salvadoran families are complicated and loving.

Salvadorans tend to have a lot of kids which translates into lots of grandkids. Because the families are so big, I'm still not sure if I understand all the relations of the families I stayed with, and it seemed like every few days a new family member would show up. There were always at least a few kids running around. I think "alone time" and privacy are concepts that Salvadorans know very little about. At times it was a bit chaotic with all the people and all the kids, but it was also nice to always have someone around. Everyone helps take care of each other's kids. Aunts and uncles regularly take care of their nieces and nephews. The older kids help take care of their younger brothers, sisters, and cousins. It is especially true that the whole family helps take care of each other, but it is also true that Salvadoran families will care for friends and even complete strangers as if they were family. Everyone pitches in to help with the cooking, cleaning, farming, building, and any other tasks that need to get done. Even the kids are expected to work hard. There were a couple of times when I saw kids not wanting to work, but the norm is for them to just do whatever needs to be done and most of the time without their parents even telling them to do it. Kids help around the house because they need to and because they know they are expected to (and not because they know they are getting something in return like an allowance). How many kids in the U.S. do that?

Salvadorans have a great sense of humor and this is especially evident in their families. They are always joking around and (lovingly) making fun of each other. They love to give each other nicknames (which made it even more difficult for me to learn who everyone is because i had to learn their real name and their nickname!). I love how they are so blunt and honest with how they joke with each other and just in normal conversations. Everybody is always in everybody else's business and it's hard to keep secrets.

While families in El Salvador are very supportive and loving of each other, there are also signs of weakness in their families. I can think of very few nuclear families where the wife and husband are on their first marriage and all of the kids living with them are biologically theirs. There are step-children and half-brothers and sisters and "adopted" kids. Many Salvadorans do not get married because they cannot afford to pay for even the legal paperwork, and a wedding ceremony is even further out of the question. Perhaps in part because marriage is less common and for many other reasons, many couples don't tend to stay together for life.

One issue is that the men are often absent from their families for a number of reasons. One reason is that many fathers, sons, uncles, grandsons were killed during the war. They left behind wives and children who have had to learn to live without them.

Another reason why the men are absent from home is that they have left to find work. Some men leave the rural areas and go to the larger cities in El Salvador to work. Some men travel to neighboring countries to find work. And many Salvadoran men have migrated to the U.S. to find work. Whether the father has gone to the city or to the U.S., he will send money back home. There are so many Salvadoran families who depend on money that is sent from family members living in the U.S. Without this money many would not survive. Some will work for a few years in the U.S. where they can earn much more money than they ever could in El Salvador, and then they will return when they have enough money saved up. However, the men don't always return, especially those who have migrated to the U.S. Some find new wives and new families and stop sending money back. I think that most have the intention of returning to El Salvador, but once they realize how much better life is in the U.S. they just stay. This tares up families and leaves kids without dads.

Men are also absent from families because of the violence of the gangs. They often abandon their families when they join the gangs (or their families disown them) and they leave behind young wives and little kids when the gang members are killed in gang activities. The gangs also murder those young men who won't join or those who won't give in to the demands of the gangs. The absence of men is creating a very vicious cycle. Young boys have very few positive role models in their own families. It's rare for boys to see what a faithful relationship with a woman looks like and it is rare for them to have a father, or brother, or uncle, or grandpa who they can look up to and strive to be like.

The men shouldn't get all the blame though. Salvadoran women will leave their men. A woman may leave because her boyfriend or husband was unfaithful or because he couldn't provide for her and her kids. Sometimes survival has to come before anything else and if a woman can find someone who can feed her kids I don't think it is our place to judge her for leaving a man who cannot feed her kids.

While Salvadoran families certainly have more than their fair share of problems and difficulties, these problems and difficulties do not diminish their strength and love.