It's very windy here in Denver. Tonight, Tyler, Kyle and I (John) are planning to go up to the Boulder area and spend time hanging out and I'm not sure what else. Fun times. It's been great to have a time to rest and relax here at Tyler's house, especially after such a heavy experience as the delegation. I've noticed though how hard it is for me to really rest and reflect, even in such a conducive environment. I really have to be intentional about it, which I think reflects a larger struggle in American culture especially. But anyway, that's beside the point. Here are some of my (admittedly delayed) personal and spiritual reflections about the borderlands delegation we recently returned from.
First off, I realize much more clearly now that the immigration reform bill currently being debated has major problems - as building a bigger wall and increasing the militarization of the border will not stop crossings and more people will die and etc. In earlier blogs, Kyle outlined some of the deeper issues, including NAFTA, corruption in the Mexican government leading to dirt-cheap wages for labor in Mexico, etc. The immigration reform bill seeks to treat the symptoms and does little to address deeper underlying root causes. But throughout the trip I was also faced with questions about the deepest root causes. Thinking about the border wall reminded me of the deeper problems which underlie such a divisive structure and in a very real sense thrust into view the limits of our delegation and other like-minded efforts. In an important sense, all social/governmental reform, symbolic action, protesting, etc. treats symptoms and stops short of dealing with the most foundational issues at the level of human hearts. Social justice, human rights, economic equality (or at least survivability) are all incredibly important, but they cannot become the end-all purposes or final goals. If we do not become the kinds of people for whom peace and rightness are truly possible, little will ultimately change. This quote from Alexsandr Solzhenitsyn encapsulates well some of my thoughts relating to the wall (and for that matter, border patrol agents, ourselves, etc.):
"If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?"
Also, I definitely came into this delegation drained and there (understandably) wasn't much down-time on the trip, so at times it was hard to be fully present. I think being slightly withdrawn or putting up a defensive wall of sorts within myself also helped prevent the impact of people's suffering from throwing me into at least partial social nihilism or at least despair. For every family re-united, another is split apart. For every life saved from heat exhaustion in the desert, another succumbs to it. And on the cycle goes. However, I recognize that any sort of nihilism or despair is not a right option, especially if I claim to be a follower of Christ. Nonetheless, it still loomed rather large at times and I think is a danger whenever one is tired - physically, emotionally, spiritually - and also tired of seeing so much wrong in the world and in individual people's lives (including one's own). So, I have been realizing (or trying to) that hope must come from a source that does not begin and end only in this broken world. The frustrating, oft-cliched, and in some situations, entirely unhelpful paradox of Christian hope is that one day things will somehow be restored and made right in spite of the apparent hopelessness; and that because of Christ, God cannot be accused of sitting up in the sky pointing and laughing at humanity's woes - He is involved. Of course, this isn't a lot of comfort to people actually in despair and it's ridiculously easy and even trite to spout off about such nice "Christian" sentiments - but I don't know if there are a lot of other options.
Another thought I had was about the response for followers of Christ to such difficult conditions and situations. While I think a Christian's final hope has to be future-oriented to some degree, one also must not withdraw from the present pain and grime of this world. To do so would be the worst kind of social Gnosticism. One of the biggest problems I have with "Left Behind" eschatology is that practically, I think it encourages (even subtly) an escape mentality. "I'll fly away...," but what about others? Furthermore, there is a related train of thought which detachs the human soul from the whole human person. Christians must have a holistic perspective that recognizes the need for the whole human person to be redeemed. No Platonic dualism allowed. The Incarnation of Christ invites an equally incarnational response from His followers.
A different, but similar question I have also been thinking about a great deal during and after this trip (esp. after meeting several people on the delegation and being challenged by how they lived practically) is how far should we go to extricate ourselves from systems of structual violence that persist all around us - esp. as people with wealth/privilege? To what degree do we attempt to have no part with those systems and rid ourselves of our complicity (which extends into what we eat, what we buy, what we drive, etc.) and when do we throw up our hands and just "live with how things are?" To what level is it possible to "be a good steward" of resources and even use aspects of these broken systems for the good of others and the Kingdom of God and when does that kind of thinking devolve into an excuse to keep living our lives of comfortable apathy and ignorance? I fear the latter is too often the case. However, I also recognize that we cannot completely escape this "fallen" world, that money/possessions are not evil in and of themselves and that as Paul says, "If If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing" (1 Cor. 13 - ESV). Again, deeper, darker problems plague rich and poor alike. I will likely wrestle with these questions for quite some time.
Some last reflections I had on the delegation involve what struck me about those whom we met. Two things in particular really stood out to me - resiliency and family. Resiliency because many people we met had stories about jumping/riding on trains, jumping fences, facing armed bandits and enduring incredible hardship and exhaustion in efforts to get further North. There are no categories for that in my comfortable life (although, that is not to say that I should wish to have to face such dangers or that my own struggles are somehow unimportant or insignificant - you can't quantify suffering). Also, I was amazed in many instances of the importance of family for people south of the border. Nearly everyone was going up north so they could support their families or open up a window of hope for their children. Some people we had met had earlier been in the U.S., but had traveled back to see their families again. These were all incredible sacrifices. The new immigration reform package's "point system" and lack of emphasis on family re-unification is possibly one of the worst aspects of a deeply flawed piece of legislation in my opinion, as family is so incredibly important for so many who are attempting to come north.
Anyway, those are some thoughts I've had during and after the delegation. It was definitely an intense and challenging experience on many levels for me and I know I will continue processing it for some time (hopefully the rest of my life, to some degree).
Many thanks for everyone's prayers and interest.
Blessings,
John Williamson
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Mas Reflejos
That is, more reflections. But first, an update. Yesterday, John and I (Kyle) pretty much vegetated all day and finished season 1 of Arrested Development, which is like visual crack (in terms of addictiveness). Last night we met up with one of Tyler's friends and Alec Olschner and went ourselves to a Colorado Rockies game. And you know, it was fun. $4 is a great price for pro baseball game, although we ended up wandering around and finding better seats that were lower on account of the wind. So I say that I truly appreciate a community event like a baseball game. And I think I'll try and get to a game by our local AAA team back in Lynden. You should, too. Bring some friends and family.
Now, down to business. This morning I woke up thinking about school and how it relates to this delegation. One of the things that struck me most about going to graduation was just how much there seemed to be a theme of peace and justice running throughout the whole event. I recall students being charged to do justice something like three times, and I remember seeking peace being said as well. I can't say I'm that surprised to hear that, especially from the people who I recall saying them, but it did kind take me aback when I thought about it. In a positive way, of course.
But as much as I hear it talked about from administrators and faculty, it's not in a unified voice. It seems like there's a lot of people doing a lot of different things (some big and some small), yet they lack an insitutional synthesis.
It's interesting, the more I give this thought, the more I realized my frustration is a tad misplaced. I think the question that provoked this was one of finding meaning life and work. IT all relates to the question of vocation that I have in fact been presented numerous times in my two years at Whitworth. How indeed do you live a life with meaning? What gives your life meaning?
Last night, watching Arrested Development, one of the characters was on his way to the mall, and he made the comment, "I could buy a new pair of shoes, maybe that will make me feel better!"
LIES.
That may be a little melodramatic, but I know you don't find fulfillment in possessions. If you haven't caught on yet, I despise materialism (even though I struggle with it constantly). I think my reaction here comes from being surrounded by a culture that is driven by material gain and feeling like it has an inescapable chokehold on me.
You know what else? Stewardship (of the earth) is hard in this culture. Last night, we had some Chipotle's for dinner. On the way out, I looked at the (disposable) paper cup I had. If I hadn't taken a straw and top for it, I could have saved some plastic from being used. For that matter, I could have brought my nalgene to put water in instead of using a cup that I would throw away anyway. The point is, our culture is not set up to be sustainable or even to be a good steward of the earth. And that, to me, shows the grip of the kingdom of darkness.
I realize little to nothing of this has to do with immigration, but alas, the thoughts do come out of the experience itself.
Now, down to business. This morning I woke up thinking about school and how it relates to this delegation. One of the things that struck me most about going to graduation was just how much there seemed to be a theme of peace and justice running throughout the whole event. I recall students being charged to do justice something like three times, and I remember seeking peace being said as well. I can't say I'm that surprised to hear that, especially from the people who I recall saying them, but it did kind take me aback when I thought about it. In a positive way, of course.
But as much as I hear it talked about from administrators and faculty, it's not in a unified voice. It seems like there's a lot of people doing a lot of different things (some big and some small), yet they lack an insitutional synthesis.
It's interesting, the more I give this thought, the more I realized my frustration is a tad misplaced. I think the question that provoked this was one of finding meaning life and work. IT all relates to the question of vocation that I have in fact been presented numerous times in my two years at Whitworth. How indeed do you live a life with meaning? What gives your life meaning?
Last night, watching Arrested Development, one of the characters was on his way to the mall, and he made the comment, "I could buy a new pair of shoes, maybe that will make me feel better!"
LIES.
That may be a little melodramatic, but I know you don't find fulfillment in possessions. If you haven't caught on yet, I despise materialism (even though I struggle with it constantly). I think my reaction here comes from being surrounded by a culture that is driven by material gain and feeling like it has an inescapable chokehold on me.
You know what else? Stewardship (of the earth) is hard in this culture. Last night, we had some Chipotle's for dinner. On the way out, I looked at the (disposable) paper cup I had. If I hadn't taken a straw and top for it, I could have saved some plastic from being used. For that matter, I could have brought my nalgene to put water in instead of using a cup that I would throw away anyway. The point is, our culture is not set up to be sustainable or even to be a good steward of the earth. And that, to me, shows the grip of the kingdom of darkness.
I realize little to nothing of this has to do with immigration, but alas, the thoughts do come out of the experience itself.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Reflections, in Denver
Hello everyone, this is Kyle yet again. We arrived this morning back in Denver. We left Tucson Sunday night and stayed the night in the Phoenix area at John's grandparents' house. We spent the morning with them, and then Tyler and I went to see my uncle and aunt who lived nearby and we also went to the Food for the Hungry headquarters (this is the organization I might be headed to Uganda & Rwanda with fall semester). Then we hustled up to the Grand Canyon and watched the sunset there. (I might add that the terrain around Flagstaff, AZ looks surprisingly like Spokane.) Then we got in the car and made our way north through the night with a couple stops thrown in.
So now I'm sitting here, comfortable, trying to switch myself into vacation mode for the week. This is a lesson the three of us have learned: you NEED a rest after a semester at school, if only a short one. Going from school, finals, packing, etc. straight into the trip was quite fatiguing. That's not to say it was bad in any way, just not ideal. But then, I can't honestly think of ideal circumstances for seeing the things we did.
Now, if you'll bear with me, I need to vent a little.
My view of Mexico has changed substantially. I've only been there once, and that was for the standard mission trip to Mexico that it seems like every young American Christian must do (albeit to Guadalajara instead of Tijuana, and we didn't really build anything). We went, and met poor people, helped drug addicts, presented the gospel in prisons, and all around just had a very nice spiritual time. But we never asked why people were addicted to drugs, or why people were chronically poor in ways that made them turn to robbery that would land them in prison. I guess we all just assumed that's the way it was in poor countries and then massaged our consciences by knowing that we had done so much to help these poor, joyful people and they've given so much back to us. You know, "they have so little and are so joyful, oh how admirable."
Insofar as I know, none of us came back and sold everything we had to claim that sort of joy and faith we perceived. No, we satisfied ourselves to be "stewards" of great resources and then went and drove around in our SUVs and bought our $4 coffees and worshipped in our $1 million churches and so on.
Please don't take any of this personally. I'm just really angry (at myself and my own life, in way ways). And I know it's somewhat cliche, but I'm just trying to let off some steam. And there are plenty of counter-critiques; I make no pretenses at this being particularly logical.
It's so much easier to call myself a steward, because that justifies my having a laptop, email address, bank account, etc. I have to use them to be a good steward, you know? As for SUVs, there is little doubt in my mind that Jesus would not have been a patron of our gas-guzzling monsters. For that matter, the one time I can think of off the top of my head when he was riding anything (when he entered Jerusalem on a donkey), he was crying the whole time (I know, that's a totally irresponsible way to interpret his reason for crying, but it's kind of funny). And coffee? Jesus probably had coffee back in the day. But nowadays, he'd probably ask the question of where it came from and if the people growing and picking it were making enough to survive. And $1 million churches? We met an evangelical pastor in Naco who is building his church building with his own hands, from scratch, with the help of his 15 year old son and congregation.
Anyway, my real frustration is that we always went and had pity and compassion on these poor underprivileged people, but we never asked why that was alright with us. What were the underlying causes? In a globalized economy, we are far more connected than any of us grasp, and the violence that goes into production and transfer of goods is far more prevalent than you want to think. I realized on this delegation that we are much farther from the kingdom of God than I had ever thought. The kingdom of darkness has an inescapable chokehold on almost every aspect of this world, it seems.
Let me specify this a bit. Back under President Clinton, we formed something called the North American Free Trade Agreement. (The Central America Free Trade Agreement has similar effects.) I'm going to horribly underrepresent this because I am still learning about it myself. As always, the wikipedia article is good starting point. In a nutshell, NAFTA allows companies in the US, Canada, and Mexico to transfer raw materials and manufactured goods across their borders without tariffs, etc. Two problems that have come of this:
1. Many manufacturers saw the opportunity to exploit the much cheaper labor (and the absence of effective non-governmental unions) of Mexico, so they picked up and moved. This left workers in the US (and Canada) without work (which, under the protection of strong unions, had generally provided a living wage). Mexico's unions (at least for those factories that were established directly after NAFTA) are government-sponsored, riddled with corruption, and basically just in bed with the manufacturers. They make a mockery of standing up for workers' rights and safety. These factories (known as maquiladoras in the border region) pay on a system of bonuses. Essentially, if you miss a day's work, you lose out on production and attendance bonuses, which account for up to 2/3 of your pay. When you're only taking home about $65 a week, that's a huge loss. (On a side note, Northern Mexico is known for having a better economic well-being than much of the rest of the country; so imagine what everyone else is making.) So who's making the buck? Investors, CEOs, big people, I don't know.
2. Because the US has such a huge farming industry with enormous operations working to maximize efficiency in agriculture, the small farmer in Mexico and Central America can't afford anymore to make a living off agriculture. I met one of these farmers, his name was Miguel, and he was from El Salvador. He grows tomatos, cucumbers, and lettuce back home, but can barely make enough to feed his family, much less try to attain any sort of higher living standard. He and his wife tried to cross twice already into the US, but decided that instead they would return to El Salvador (and a wage of maybe $35 a week). They're now working in the grape fields outside Altar to save up for a bus ticket home.
So why should it surprise anyone that hundreds of thousands of people every year are fleeing north to the US? Even working in low-wage, low-skill jobs, you can make more money in a day than you can in a week back home. Let me balance this by saying that you won't hear many migrants say they want to come to the US (let's not kid ourselves, eh?). There is a very prevalent desire to go, make enough money, return and be able to start or engage in some sort of small business in the home country. Likewise, let me also balance this by saying that it's not all the US's fault. Mexico and Central America have notoriously corrupt governments, which helps nothing. In fact, Mexico's Federal Police are known as being the most exploitative of Central Americans coming through the country. I heard one story where one of these policemen was inspecting a Central American's papers, found them in order, ripped them up in front of the person, and then asked where their papers were. That's ridiculous and totally unacceptable. My point is, the corruption runs deep.
So let me see if I can bring this full circle. I'm pissed that when I went to Mexico on my conscience-massaging mission trip none of us had the attitude that it's not alright for poverty to be so prevalent when we are so affluent ourselves. Someone on our delegation pointed out that there are so many believers of Jesus in this country, but so few followers. I can believe in and pray to Jesus, but there is clearly far more to it than that. The gospel has to actually affect the way I live my life, and that means more than not having sex before marriage. Anyway, I'm hungry and accursedly rich by the world's standards. On that note, I'm going to head to lunch and recommend everyone read Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger by Ron Sider. He gives a great evangelical commentary on all these issues and reading it ought to change or at least affect your life in some way. Love,
Kyle
So now I'm sitting here, comfortable, trying to switch myself into vacation mode for the week. This is a lesson the three of us have learned: you NEED a rest after a semester at school, if only a short one. Going from school, finals, packing, etc. straight into the trip was quite fatiguing. That's not to say it was bad in any way, just not ideal. But then, I can't honestly think of ideal circumstances for seeing the things we did.
Now, if you'll bear with me, I need to vent a little.
My view of Mexico has changed substantially. I've only been there once, and that was for the standard mission trip to Mexico that it seems like every young American Christian must do (albeit to Guadalajara instead of Tijuana, and we didn't really build anything). We went, and met poor people, helped drug addicts, presented the gospel in prisons, and all around just had a very nice spiritual time. But we never asked why people were addicted to drugs, or why people were chronically poor in ways that made them turn to robbery that would land them in prison. I guess we all just assumed that's the way it was in poor countries and then massaged our consciences by knowing that we had done so much to help these poor, joyful people and they've given so much back to us. You know, "they have so little and are so joyful, oh how admirable."
Insofar as I know, none of us came back and sold everything we had to claim that sort of joy and faith we perceived. No, we satisfied ourselves to be "stewards" of great resources and then went and drove around in our SUVs and bought our $4 coffees and worshipped in our $1 million churches and so on.
Please don't take any of this personally. I'm just really angry (at myself and my own life, in way ways). And I know it's somewhat cliche, but I'm just trying to let off some steam. And there are plenty of counter-critiques; I make no pretenses at this being particularly logical.
It's so much easier to call myself a steward, because that justifies my having a laptop, email address, bank account, etc. I have to use them to be a good steward, you know? As for SUVs, there is little doubt in my mind that Jesus would not have been a patron of our gas-guzzling monsters. For that matter, the one time I can think of off the top of my head when he was riding anything (when he entered Jerusalem on a donkey), he was crying the whole time (I know, that's a totally irresponsible way to interpret his reason for crying, but it's kind of funny). And coffee? Jesus probably had coffee back in the day. But nowadays, he'd probably ask the question of where it came from and if the people growing and picking it were making enough to survive. And $1 million churches? We met an evangelical pastor in Naco who is building his church building with his own hands, from scratch, with the help of his 15 year old son and congregation.
Anyway, my real frustration is that we always went and had pity and compassion on these poor underprivileged people, but we never asked why that was alright with us. What were the underlying causes? In a globalized economy, we are far more connected than any of us grasp, and the violence that goes into production and transfer of goods is far more prevalent than you want to think. I realized on this delegation that we are much farther from the kingdom of God than I had ever thought. The kingdom of darkness has an inescapable chokehold on almost every aspect of this world, it seems.
Let me specify this a bit. Back under President Clinton, we formed something called the North American Free Trade Agreement. (The Central America Free Trade Agreement has similar effects.) I'm going to horribly underrepresent this because I am still learning about it myself. As always, the wikipedia article is good starting point. In a nutshell, NAFTA allows companies in the US, Canada, and Mexico to transfer raw materials and manufactured goods across their borders without tariffs, etc. Two problems that have come of this:
1. Many manufacturers saw the opportunity to exploit the much cheaper labor (and the absence of effective non-governmental unions) of Mexico, so they picked up and moved. This left workers in the US (and Canada) without work (which, under the protection of strong unions, had generally provided a living wage). Mexico's unions (at least for those factories that were established directly after NAFTA) are government-sponsored, riddled with corruption, and basically just in bed with the manufacturers. They make a mockery of standing up for workers' rights and safety. These factories (known as maquiladoras in the border region) pay on a system of bonuses. Essentially, if you miss a day's work, you lose out on production and attendance bonuses, which account for up to 2/3 of your pay. When you're only taking home about $65 a week, that's a huge loss. (On a side note, Northern Mexico is known for having a better economic well-being than much of the rest of the country; so imagine what everyone else is making.) So who's making the buck? Investors, CEOs, big people, I don't know.
2. Because the US has such a huge farming industry with enormous operations working to maximize efficiency in agriculture, the small farmer in Mexico and Central America can't afford anymore to make a living off agriculture. I met one of these farmers, his name was Miguel, and he was from El Salvador. He grows tomatos, cucumbers, and lettuce back home, but can barely make enough to feed his family, much less try to attain any sort of higher living standard. He and his wife tried to cross twice already into the US, but decided that instead they would return to El Salvador (and a wage of maybe $35 a week). They're now working in the grape fields outside Altar to save up for a bus ticket home.
So why should it surprise anyone that hundreds of thousands of people every year are fleeing north to the US? Even working in low-wage, low-skill jobs, you can make more money in a day than you can in a week back home. Let me balance this by saying that you won't hear many migrants say they want to come to the US (let's not kid ourselves, eh?). There is a very prevalent desire to go, make enough money, return and be able to start or engage in some sort of small business in the home country. Likewise, let me also balance this by saying that it's not all the US's fault. Mexico and Central America have notoriously corrupt governments, which helps nothing. In fact, Mexico's Federal Police are known as being the most exploitative of Central Americans coming through the country. I heard one story where one of these policemen was inspecting a Central American's papers, found them in order, ripped them up in front of the person, and then asked where their papers were. That's ridiculous and totally unacceptable. My point is, the corruption runs deep.
So let me see if I can bring this full circle. I'm pissed that when I went to Mexico on my conscience-massaging mission trip none of us had the attitude that it's not alright for poverty to be so prevalent when we are so affluent ourselves. Someone on our delegation pointed out that there are so many believers of Jesus in this country, but so few followers. I can believe in and pray to Jesus, but there is clearly far more to it than that. The gospel has to actually affect the way I live my life, and that means more than not having sex before marriage. Anyway, I'm hungry and accursedly rich by the world's standards. On that note, I'm going to head to lunch and recommend everyone read Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger by Ron Sider. He gives a great evangelical commentary on all these issues and reading it ought to change or at least affect your life in some way. Love,
Kyle
Friday, June 1, 2007
...
This is a worker at Just Coffee, a cooperative that works with farmers Chiapas to help give alternatives for people who would otherwise probably migrate north. SUPPORTING THEM HELPS STOP IMMIGRATION!
...
Myself and Rachel, a teammate, with the Border Patrol agent about to pull us over in the background.
...
This is a casa de huesped, of which there are over 90 in Altar. They charge $4-6 per person per night to stay in terrible conditions. If you notice, the racks they are sleeping on look remarkably
like those found in concentration camps.
Pictures: Proof we are Alive
The three of us sitting around in Benjamin Hill waiting for the train to come.
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