Bridging Cultural Divides

What will it take to bridge our divisions?

Today we are awash in evidence of our deep divisions. I don’t need to say any more about that because the violence to which our divisions can lead us just got horrifically splashed across news outlets globally in the assassination attempt; who knows if additional violence may follow? Even in the same country, among those appearing to share similar backgrounds and speaking the same language, we are living in dramatically different cultures with completely different understandings of our settings and different world views. Failure to address this reality through the lens of our faith is, in my opinion, the main crisis facing the Church (writ large) today. Building God’s Kingdom requires us to make connections grounded in understanding and Christ’s love across all the gaps and barriers we experience. How do we engage in building trust so we can work effectively as long-term partners across these sorts of divisions to address the very real and urgent needs of our community, nation, world?

I find myself examining my 30+ years of experience as part of St. Anne’s ministry in Guatemala to try to draw some lessons, for our context here and now, that are so sorely needed.

My husband Wayne and I were not part of the group that laid the initial groundwork for a connection between St. Anne’s and rural Mayan communities in Guatemala’s beautiful highlands in 1992. At that time, the Mayan population had been victimized by their own government’s army through over 30 years of murder, kidnapping and destruction. The Indigenous population, still about 50% of the nation, had been suppressed and oppressed for nearly half a millennium by Europeans and their descendants. Building trust between St. Anne’s folks and these people whose lived experience bore so little resemblance to ours would seem to be a tall order.

Here's the way I recall being told how that began: the St. Anne’s group had been offered a connection through contacts between the Maryland and Guatemalan bishops. The initial group spent a few days in getting-to-know-you activities with the identified Mayan leaders, visiting a few communities, worshiping, sharing meals, etc. Finally, the Mayan leaders asked the St. Anne’s group: “This has been nice but are you here to build us a mailbox? Because if so, we aren’t interested.”

Our group was understandably puzzled and asked for an explanation. The answer was revealing. “We see a lot of American church groups. They come smiling, look around a bit and say, oh, you poor Mayans, we know what you need: you don’t have any mailboxes! Don’t worry, we can take care of that. Then they build us a dandy mailbox. Only guess what, we don’t get mail. So, if you are here to build us a mailbox, we aren’t interested.”

Thanks be to God, the St. Anne’s group responded: “We thought you would know what you need and then we could talk about how to work together on your priorities.”

The Mayan leaders decided that was different and was a basis for moving forward.

As I write this, a memory from our first trip to Guatemala arises. Fr. Rosalío, the main Mayan leader at that time, asked me, “Have you figured out why God called you [meaning all of us from St. Anne’s] here? Do you know yet what He knows you need to learn here?”

I would say the answer has been humility, and the patience to let a process grounded in humility work itself out.

Bridging divisions requires the humility to recognize that I can never know what something looks like and feels like from someone else’s perspective, however much I may think I bring relevant knowledge and skill to any situation. This is grounded in the vital theological truth that if every single person – no exceptions! – is created in the image and likeness of God, then each of us has equal worth in God’s scale of values. I can’t know what I might be able to do to minister in love to or with anyone else until I am willing to shut my mouth and open my ears – and the ears of my mind and my heart – to try to listen deeply. I need humility to realize I don’t yet know what I need to know about someone else’s reality. And that takes massive patience (not one of America’s most prominent civic virtues). Partnering with rather than doing for someone else is (a) always more time consuming, at least initially; and (b) always likely to lead to more appropriate and sustainable results.

Those baseline understandings have anchored our shared ministry that developed over time into what is now a multi-generational partnership to demonstrate love of neighbors across thousands of miles, seeking to do this as Jesus commanded us. We moved forward always knowing our Mayan sisters and brothers understood their own priorities as communities much better than we do and jointly making decisions based on their awareness of what would work best in their context to improve their lives in Jesus’ name.

This is what grabbed my heart on that first trip Wayne, and I made in the fall of 1993, and my heart has remained grabbed. He and I have lost count of how many trips we have made, and we both know that there has never yet been a visit in which we have not learned something that was surprisingly eye-opening. My relationships there are as precious as my own extended family relationships as I have had the honor of watching children grow into a new generation of emerging community leadership. I am constantly reminded, by God’s grace, to remember those initial lessons that are essential to bridging deep divisions between life experiences and world views. This matters as much in Annapolis as in Guatemala.

And I’ll make a confession: participation in this ministry is probably the most selfish thing I do. I receive lessons in Christian love from our Mayan sisters and brothers that are of enormously greater value than my own small personal contributions. Our partnership works to help people in deep need shape their own communities’ lives for greater flourishing for all, which nourishes our own flourishing as well. Thanks be to God!

Linda Adamson, St. Anne’s Leader/Partners in Mission Guatemala