Trustworthy (Scout's Honor!)

The following post is an assigned response to a 2013 article by Paul Louis Metzger entitled, Trustworthy Rivals: On an Alternative Path to Multi-Faith Discourse in which he asks the question, “Which would you rather be toward those of other faiths? A trustworthy rival, a mean-spirited and scheming enemy (like a former spouse), or a platonic and possibly even unscrupulous bedfellow? Can you think of other options?” This is an important question to consider…for everyone’s sake.

In our conversation about diplomacy, whether on the international, interpersonal, or inter-faith (or multi-faith) levels, we have considered the importance of listening carefully before speaking. We have talked a lot about the ethical and relational character of the ambassador, specifically, those called “Ambassadors for Christ” (2 Corinthians 5) who work to adequately communicate God’s message of reconciliation—in fact, that is where we started nearly two years ago. So, how should we respond when talking with members of other faith or anti-faith groups? Let me start with the via negativa or the “should nots” of religious diplomacy.

• First, we should not be ready to rise up from talking at some offense and plunge the hidden dagger of our arrogant agenda into our opponent’s heart.
• Secondly, we should not use relationships as a ruse, in essence, “fattening them with friendship” so we can consume them in a moment of defenselessness like the Sawi tribe did to outsiders in Don Richardson’s biography, Peace Child.
• Finally, we should not merely accommodate their positions like some kind of simpering, cloying, Gríma Wormtongue-esque sycophant always looking out for themselves if they can’t exert power over others.

We can disagree without being disagreeable, as Dr. Metzger wrote, “While the various faith traditions set forth competing truth claims at key points, such competing claims do not lead adherents of the diverse traditions necessarily to discount and demean one another.”

Dr. Metzger suggests that we aim for the title “Trustworthy Rivals” in our multi-faith encounters. The adjective “Trustworthy” is good and might get us invited back for another cup of tea, but "Rival" is not what I am looking for. It seems to place the opposition we are facing on the wrong actor. While I understand his reason for choosing the word “rivals” (for we go through our convictions, not around them) it leaves me hoping for something better.

Other adjectives might include, “Sympathetic” in the sense of “the act or capacity of entering into or sharing the feelings or interests of another…” without polluting the sacred space of relationship with our stuff and yet “Sharpening” each other’s understanding (Proverbs 27:17).  “Faithful” might also work very well as a relational anchor that allows us to remain despite resistance from them or pressure from others urging us to disengage and draw back.

So how do we get beyond labeling other religious groups as "enemies" or mildly better "rivals" without compromising our convictions? Might I suggest that Brother or Sister might work, since we share the same genetics, the same needs, and the same condition (mortality) on the same planet? Just because we are related doesn’t mean that we have to agree, but it should move us to their side to problem-solve together. Perhaps we should do as some others have suggested and call them “friends”. Certainly, we can be friends if we identify ourselves honestly from the beginning and we learn to listen. Or, maybe Neighbor might work best.

What do you think?

For Want of a Shoe…Discalced Diplomacy

The first question that many of my readers might have is, “What does discalced mean?” It simply means “without shoes”. In Exodus 3:4-6, we see that God revealed himself to Moses at the burning bush with the command for him to take off his sandals.

When the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Do not come near; take your sandals off your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” And he said, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

Even today, many cultures do not wear their shoes into homes or

houses of worship because they know the street is unclean and don’t want to track the grime and gutter-grunge of their world into the presence of their hosts.

There were men and women of faith in centuries past who became convinced that the monastic orders of which they were a part had grown too worldly and were seeking their own pleasure instead of being wholehearted followers of Jesus. It seems that they irritated their own people with all their talk of reform and either chose—or were forced—to leave and start their own missional communities. One sign of their devotion was to stop wearing shoes, or later, to wear only sandals. For example, St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross started the Discalced Carmelite orders in the 16^th Century.

My discalced story has nothing to do with medieval mendicant orders, at least not directly. But they removed their shoes as a symbol of a radical commitment to follow Jesus rather than compromising their convictions to serve the status quo.

Some years ago, I had a similar experience. I was at a gathering of pastors and leaders from several churches for a three-day time of mutual encouragement and seeking the Lord together without the normal conference-style agenda. During our last time of gathered worship, I felt strongly that the Lord wanted me to take off my shoes.  I have to confess that I wasn’t very open to the idea. To my rational German/British upbringing, it made no sense, and I could discern no explanation for the prompting. The music was quite loud in a rather small space, so I moved to the back of the room to sort things out and preserve what was left of my hearing. While standing there in the midst of a time of praise, I finally made the decision to obey the prompting of the Holy Spirit and humble myself by removing my shoes…opening myself up to potential embarrassment if questioned. It was a profound moment of surrender, over a very simple request, where I had to trust that responding to the Lord was more important than any appearances. After the service ended, I put on my shoes and headed for the airport to fly home. Still, I had no explanation in my heart from the Lord about why I had been asked to take my shoes off. There was not even a hint of the “for this is holy ground” that Moses had received at the burning bush. However, I knew that at that moment I was in right relationship with the Lord and that I wasn’t holding anything back.  

On the flight to Atlanta, I was privileged to sit next to a critical care nurse headed to visit her aging mother in California. After a time of chatting about my destination in Oregon, she labeled herself as a “lapsed Catholic New Age practitioner.” Upon hearing this, I asked her to tell me about what that meant. She was surprised that I was interested, saying, “Most Christians I meet don’t want to hear anything about what I believe.” This led to a delightfully serene conversation about our core convictions while the plane was increasingly batted about by the thunderstorm raging outside.

At one point, she confessed that she could tell that I must be “a holy man” for I had “very clean energy.” That was unexpected, but I thanked her for the compliment. At that point, I realized that if I hadn’t humbled myself at the Lord’s request just a couple of hours earlier, she would probably not have noticed any “clean energy” emanating from me. It was the Holy Spirit that guided me in an unhurried, patient, and kind approach, my discalced diplomacy if you will, which created space for thoughtful and authentic interaction to occur. I consciously left my ideological shoes at the door, so as to hear her in her own words, instead of parroting all the anti-New Age authors and apologists I may have heard in the past.

I listened respectfully, asked clarifying questions when necessary, and thanked her genuinely for helping me understand her perspective, with only the admission, “That is very different from what I believe.” A few minutes later, she asked me about my beliefs and how they were different from her own.

As things grew more turbulent outside, I noticed others were listening in on our conversation. There was the woman one row in front of us who had turned her head so that she could listen through the gap between the seat-backs.  There was the middle-linebacker-looking man across the aisle, whose reddened face and bulging neck veins made me wonder if he disagreed with what I was saying or was fighting airsickness. To my surprise, once we landed, a co-worker of mine, who had been seated five or six rows away, said that everyone around us had been listening and he had been praying for hearts to be receptive to the gospel presented conversationally.

There is a verse of conventional wisdom, nearly a thousand years old, which says,

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe, the horse was lost.
For want of a horse, the rider was lost.
For want of a rider, the message was lost.
For want of a message, the battle was lost.
For want of a battle, the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

The proverbial lesson that every small detail matters is not lost on me. We have no excuse to be lazy or careless in our calling. Yet I also know the Lord often works in counterintuitive ways.

 

So, what if we intentionally took our metaphorical shoes off when engaging others with diverse perspectives and world-views? What would happen if we simply took off the ideological combat boots of the culture wars and the supple-to-hand designer shoes of our consumption-based economy, and went barefoot for a bit? Then, after slowing down and stepping on a rock or two, we tried to walk in the other person’s proverbial moccasins for a mile or so.

I remember having to walk down a gravel road to and from the beach many times while growing up and most often we were barefoot. The gravel was uneven and sharp which made the trip painful, slow, and a bit unsteady as we tried to pick our way through and find the best route for everyone. Perhaps we should approach our times of inter-faith and multi-ethnic diplomacy the same way…slowly and sacredly.

 

“Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.” (Col. 4:6)

[Update: I wrote this five years ago, but in recent weeks we have seen the world changed by the COVID-19 virus. Many areas are on lockdown or at least practicing social distancing. One thing that public health leaders advised early on was to not wear shoes in the house. Instead of potentially tracking the virus into our homes, let's take off our physical and metaphorical shoes out of love for others!]

Negotiating the Bridge (Bridge-building 4)

Postcard Circa 1930.

I have recently been driving across what Wikipedia says was “the longest and highest cantilever bridge in the United States” at the time that it was opened…nearly 85 years ago (March 29, 1930). Just so that you know, crossing bridges makes me a little bit nervous… especially when I find out how old they are! This particular bridge was designed by Joseph Strauss, who was the engineer of the Golden Gate Bridge so it has that in its favor. Counting approaches it is 8,192 feet long with its longest span reaching 1200 feet 210 feet above the river below. The designers claimed that any vessel then in existence, including a fully rigged clipper ship, could pass under it successfully. I agree it is a very tall bridge! Can you guess where it is?

Golden Gate Bridge in the fog.

Over the last year, I have written several times on the subject of bridge building. I have used the metaphor to introduce posts on the need to engage others cross-culturally (Bridge-Building In A Chaotic World), to take time to do adequate and authentic listening as an indispensable phase of construction (Bridge-Building 2: "Relational Impact Studies") where we prove that we “can be trusted to safely treasure the story, needs, and longings of others” or if we skip this step, “our efforts a bridge-building will be seen more as an invasion and occupation rather than an authentic connection.” And finally, I wrote about how building well includes a consideration of behavioral tolerances at points where we don’t agree (Bridge-Building 3: Tolerances & Tighteners, Gaps & Grips). I wrote, “Finding common points of agreement or meeting places is important if we are going to build effective bridges.” But, after so much water under the metaphorical bridge, what about working towards agreement on beliefs not merely on behaviors?

Can we continue to be authentic in our beliefs while fully listening to the beliefs of others? If we think that this is unacceptable for us to do, then certainly we cannot expect their attitude to be any different. If we hope to apply diplomacy to the areas of faith and culture we need to learn to negotiate differently than what we might see from a tourist haggling with a bazaar merchant over the price and quality of a samovar.  

“Whether a negotiation concerns a contract, a family quarrel, or a peace settlement among nations, people routinely engage in positional bargaining. Each side takes a position, argues for it, and makes concessions to reach a compromise.”[1]

We are generally faced with one of two negotiating tactics—hard or soft—and neither produces a solution that is best for both parties. In Getting To Yes, Fisher, Ury, and Patton describe these approaches.

The soft negotiator wants to avoid personal conflict and so makes concessions readily to reach [an] agreement. He or she wants an amicable resolution; yet often ends up exploited and feeling bitter.

The hard negotiator sees any situation as a contest of wills in which the side that takes the more extreme position and holds out longer fares better. He or she wants to win; yet often ends up producing an equally hard response that exhausts the negotiator and his or her resources and harms the relationship with the other side.[2]

If negotiation was only to choose between these two flawed outcomes then there would be very little hope for Christian diplomacy.

There is a third way to negotiate, a way neither hard nor soft, but rather both hard and soft. The method of principled negotiation developed at the Harvard Negotiation Project is to decide issues on their merits rather than through a haggling process focused on what each side says it will and won’t do. It suggests that you look for mutual gains whenever possible, and that where your interests conflict, you should insist that the result be based on some fair standards independent of the will of either side. The method of principled negotiation is hard on the merits, and soft on the people.[3]

The bridge which I mentioned earlier was only built after long negotiations at the local, state, and national levels. It was opposed by the city of Portland (50 miles away) because they thought that it would negatively impact shipping via the river and their collection of tolls on their own bridge. Once the designers successfully made arguments at the State and Federal levels that what they were building was high enough that shipping wouldn’t be hindered the project was cleared to proceed. At this point, it would seem that most interests of all parties involved were met, with the exception of determining the exact location on the Oregon side.

When practicing diplomacy in a multi-faith context, we would do well to make use of the four main elements of principled negotiation. We may be able to do more, but we should not do less.

People: Separate the people from the problem.

Interests: Focus on interests, not positions.

Options: Invent multiple options looking for mutual gains before deciding what to do.

Criteria: Insist that the result be based on some objective standard.[4]

What do you think? Do these approaches fit into a Christian approach to engaging the world? Would following such guidelines serve to lower the polarizing rhetoric and truly work for the common good?

Looking to the Northeast into Washington

Sometimes we have to slow the push for our own agenda in order to achieve the best results for everyone. By the way, the original speed limit on the Lewis and Clark Bridge was 20 MPH and currently remains at a moderate 35 MPH. I find that plenty fast enough…if you want to negotiate the bridge and enjoy the view a little longer!

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[1] Fisher, Roger; Ury, William L.; Patton, Bruce (2011-05-03). Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement Without Giving In (Kindle Locations 344-346). Penguin Group US. Kindle Edition.

[2] Ibid. (Kindle Locations 318-322).

[3] Ibid. (Kindle Locations 323-327).

[4] Ibid. (Kindle Locations 499-506).

Trash-talking

This week’s blog post is in response to a post by Paul Louis Metzger and John W. Morehead, who wrote a response addressed to both the religious and the irreligious following a controversial “atheist invocation” at a Lake Worth, Florida, City Commission meeting. Their post can be found here. The irreligious invocation offered at that meeting was considered by many to be deliberately mocking of many religious systems and advocated for their being discarded from the public square. Metzger and Morehead’s response calls instead for civil dialogue, free from mocking on either side, that allows us to work together for the common good. Working for the “common good” seems like a good idea, but how does one determine what is good? Why should one side be able to dictate the ground rules so that the other side has to check their convictions at the door? Sounds like intellectual gun control by a nervous sheriff to me.

The particular objection, in this case, is the practice of opening public meetings with a prayer of invocation. However, that seems to reveal an ignorance of their purpose and the common good that is served for religious and irreligious alike. Invocations are essentially an act of humility, a request for help that, if not a direct request of elected officials, is the desire of the people served and is offered up for the common good. 

It would seem to be a more sincere “invocation” by an atheist if they were simply to offer a moment of silence (since they don’t believe there is anyone to which we should pray) enabling participants to reflect on values to be applied during the meeting to follow, or perhaps to recite a list of commonly held community virtues and expectations that should guide officials in their leadership duties. Denigrating another person’s religion or irreligion should not be part of any invocation. In fact, it mocks it. Atheistic mocking of people of faith shows how intolerant the mockers can be. Yet it can also be a good reminder to Christians and other religionists to not pray or rant disparagingly against other groups. In my opinion, an invocation should not be a time to do evangelism or “devangelism” as the case may be, but to ask that the common good might be sought through the meeting to follow.

In the Florida case in question, many have objected to the man’s mocking tone in his mention of the various religions and have cautioned against such strident confrontation. I agree with Metzger and Morehead that such inflammatory methods do not lead to an increase in civil discourse or a greater sense of the “common good.” I personally don’t like our culture of trash-talking our opponents, be it in sports, politics, science, or in sermons. To be honest, too many religious leaders spend too much time mocking other religious groups in their communications with their own adherents. Imams are demonizing Christians and Jews in their messages, Christian pastors mocking Mormons, Muslims, Pagans, and yes, even Atheists (especially during April) from the pulpit, while Mormons mock Evangelicals' “salvation by grace”, etc. Should it surprise us when an Atheist mocks us all as well? Nope. But the whole level of rhetoric does sadden me.

While I agree that insulting someone is not civil or kind and will not be a part of my own engagement methodology, in an effort at full disclosure, I would like to point out that the Bible does contain examples of trash-talking, though it certainly is not presented as a prescriptive.

Case #1 Sacrificial Showdown of the Century featuring Elijah vs. the 450 prophets of Baal and the 400 prophets of Asherah in the Mt. Carmel amphitheater.  In this situation, Elijah, outnumbered 950 to one, did in fact boldly “mock” the tiring prophets of Baal, but not with an intent to discourage them but to spur them on to give their best efforts in dancing, shouting, and cutting.

And at noon Elijah mocked them, saying, “Cry aloud, for he is a god. Either he is musing, or he is relieving himself, or he is on a journey, or perhaps he is asleep and must be awakened.” And they cried aloud and cut themselves after their custom with swords and lances, until the blood gushed out upon them. And as midday passed, they raved on until the time of the offering of the oblation, but there was no voice. No one answered; no one paid attention. (1 Kings 18:27-29, ESV)

As a result, he got them to give a few more hours of effort before they gave up. Then he even handicapped himself by soaking his sacrifices and wood in water. He wanted to make sure that the people knew God was making a point.

There are several other examples, such as Judges 16, where Delilah mocked Samson, but that didn’t turn out well for the Philistines in the end. 

Another example is 2 Kings 18-19, where the Rabshakeh, sent by Sennacherib, king of Assyria, mocked God before King Hezekiah and the people, and God destroyed their army of 185,000 in a single night. Not the results they had desired. Even the people of Israel, who decided that their own wisdom was better than that of the Lord, became mockers and sealed their own fate.
 

The Lord, the God of their fathers, sent persistently to them by his messengers, because he had compassion on his people and on his dwelling place. But they kept mocking the messengers of God, despising his words and scoffing at his prophets, until the wrath of the Lord rose against his people, until there was no remedy. (2 Chronicles 36:15-16)

I don’t want to be a mocker of what is true, nor do I desire to deride what is false, even if some believe it to be an effective technique to “get into the head” of their opponent. I would much rather speak encouragement to them to bring their best effort, their most rigorous argument, their most impassioned plea to the debate and have the courage and consideration to expect the same from me; having done that, to listen fully to each other, yearning to understand if not to agree. Now that would be worth the price of admission.

“…let us, above all, love one another, not to obtain mythical rewards for ourselves now, hereafter, or based on superstitious threats of eternal damnation, but rather, embrace secular-based principles of morality – and do good for goodness’ sake.” (Quotation taken from The Palm Beach Post article by Chris Persaud).

This quote causes me to wonder how we might arrive at secular-based principles of morality. This sounds like an intriguing line of inquiry. Is that a certain morality that encourages behavior that leads to a survival of the fittest in a Social Darwinist redux, or a “live and let live” laissez-faire bowl of platitude porridge for the philosophically lobotomized? Who is left to engage others through their convictions in order to determine what secular morality might be? What then is the “good” that we are supposed to do, how can we know it is, in fact, good, and while we are at it, how can we do it for “goodness’ sake” since goodness is not a person to have a sake?

In conclusion, I would say that it is hard to bite your tongue when someone insults the person you love the most. It is not something that produces the most rational response, but rather an understandably emotional one. Some religions may have adherents who respond violently to perceived mocking, as we have seen this week in France; others may protest, and some will just complain. Irreligionists are no different. Reading through the comments on the original blog post demonstrates how difficult it is to practice diplomacy at such times, and yet how important it is for us to learn how to do so.

It is for the common good that we treat each other with common courtesy. I would think that should be the starting point, not the finish line.

A Cultural Welcome Wagon?

It was 1970, and I remember that when we moved from the foreign country of California to the town in Oregon where I would grow up, we were visited by some ladies from the local “Welcome Wagon.” They brought a nice fruit basket, some words of welcome, and some advice as to good places to shop, doctors, dentists, and other professionals that were in the area. Apparently, the “Welcome Wagon” has been around since 1928, as their website explains, 

Welcome Wagon was founded in 1928 by an insightful marketing man in Memphis, Tennessee, Thomas Briggs. Mr. Briggs was inspired by stories of early Conestoga “welcome wagons” that would meet and greet westward travelers, providing fresh food and water for the journey. He created Welcome Wagon to embody this same spirit of warm hospitality and welcome. He hired "hostesses", women who were friendly and knowledgeable about their neighborhood, to personally deliver baskets of gifts supplied by local businesses to new homeowners. Over a cup of coffee, hostesses would tell new home buyers about local civic and cultural activities in the community while handing out gifts and coupons from local businesses. This hostess network expanded across the country until, aside from Briggs and just a handful of males, Welcome Wagon became one of the first all-woman companies in the US.

This business plan for this group found that by giving public service-type information, their representatives could move into giving coupons and plugging local businesses. It really was all about the money.

What if we, as Christian ambassadors, could set aside the commercialized approaches of merchants and mega-churches always looking for market share and program growth, and provide a different, more relational, and culturally helpful kind of welcome?

In my last post, I included a quote from Soon Ang and Linn Van Dyne’s Handbook of Cultural Intelligence: Theory, Measurement, and Applications that emphasized the importance of training immigrants in the rudimentary elements of the culture of the country to which they are moving. I will repeat the last part of it here: “Immigrant cultures need to change, and people must become culturally intelligent or stay in the margins of society. People who are culturally intelligent zero in on aspects of culture that are different and respond appropriately.”

This issue was brought home to me again as I was asking a friend of mine about her own experience as a refugee from Laos in UN-run camps in Thailand, and then in regards to her coming to the US in the 80s. I asked her what could have been done better, and I was surprised when she said the same thing as the Handbook of Cultural Intelligence. She said it would have been better to have someone explain some of the aspects and expectations of our culture before arriving here, when all the lessons come the hard way. In addition, no one explained that she could have attended high school when she came. She got a job and taught herself English working in a 7-11 Store. She was one of the feisty ones who seemed to be able to succeed despite the odds. 

Part of the problem is that we tend to have cultural myopia and think everyone thinks like we do and should behave the way that we do in our native culture. What seems strange to them may be normal to us and vice versa. We need to be able to talk through the potential points of friction before it starts a fire, seeking mutual understanding instead of sitting back and complaining.

What if we were intentional about not just teaching ESL classes, but actually engaging culturally with immigrants, teaching them our cultural “dance” so that they will not be sentenced to “stay in the margins of society” like economic and political wallflowers. At the same time, it would be helpful for us to learn about their culture as well, thus mutually benefiting each other. Revisiting the "Welcome Wagon" idea, what if we also shared the lay of the land, letting newcomers know where "locals" hang out--the best places to shop, eat, and get your car fixed--without any financial kickbacks? It might actually become a wonderful neighborhood!

Finally, there has been much written in criticism of America as a “melting pot” and how it tends to homogenize cultures into one bland bowl of porridge. I prefer to think of it as a pot of soup or stew where the flavor is enhanced and made richer by the inclusion and blending of many other cultural influences. However, for this to happen well, we must do better at welcoming the stranger that stands at our door and be involved, allowing them to become a friend, or perhaps family.

A Generational Jihad of Blame

[This post is an assigned response to a September 2014 post by Paul Louis Metzger entitled Who Is to Blame for the “Jihad Generation”? His original post was in response to the increasingly radicalized nature of Islamic youth populations in Europe and North America and such phenomena as ISIS/ISIL and how we should respond.]

Who is to blame? Interestingly, my first thought is why start with the concept of blame? I am not sold on the value of affixing blame, pointing the finger at others, for actually solving the problem. While it can be beneficial to confess our own failures, working to pin blame on another is a rather negative and polarizing negotiating approach. If Dr. Metzger’s point is to use Britain’s purported failure to engage young 1^st & 2^nd generation immigrants to prompt us to look inside our own hearts and society for the cause of this phenomenon then I can see the point. But why ask “who is to blame” instead of considering how we may have failed?

 

My second thought is that if, as Metzger’s Islamic friend suggests, jihad “is the internal struggle within oneself to battle and overcome evil” then why is prompting such spiritual struggle blameworthy in the first place? Either the rise of jihad is negative with blame attached or positive with credit attached. If it is neither positive nor negative then we can attach a little apathy and say “Who cares?” The problem with the practice of jihad, and usually with blame as well, is that it tends to be directed externally, demonizing others instead of the evil working on our own hearts. It’s just easier that way…but it is not helpful. We have been doing it almost since the beginning, starting with Adam blaming Eve and Eve blaming the snake (Gen 3:12-13).

I can sympathize with the quoted statement that “young Muslims in inner-city Britain have been left disenfranchised by politics and let down by imams and other community leaders.” This is the case in many places of the world, especially in areas containing a high number of culturally distant immigrants. Refugee parents may have had good reasons for coming to Britain, the US or Canada, etc. but their kids may not have fully felt the pain that prompted such a move. They often have only felt disappointment at the inability of Western culture and economics to ultimately bring the sense of satisfaction and belonging that they seek. One issue here in America is the indoctrination of immigrants into a life of dependency on government and private sponsorship instead of working closely with immigrants to help them navigate their way out of the system.

Don’t get me wrong, I am glad that there is help available to the destitute refugee-type immigrant. But their drive to achieve and succeed can quickly be ruined by well-meaning charity and a less-than-well-meaning cultural environment in the ghettos where they often have to settle. We need to consider how we as a society can be more invitational and relational to the sojourners in our midst.

Dr. Metzger also quoted an Independent article that “addresses the need for Muslim leaders to connect better with youths to make sure they are well-adapted in their Western cultural contexts.” This agrees with something I read in the Handbook of Cultural Intelligence that suggested that this acculturation process should start before the person ever emigrates. In our pluralistic, politically-correct, tolerance-oriented behavior are we actually marginalizing immigrants by not teaching them our culture? Soon Ang and Linn Van Dyne, suggest that we are doing just that, and caution,

"When there is a large cultural distance, it is necessary to train immigrants to understand the consequences of their immigration, and to become somewhat culturally intelligent. In my opinion, it is irresponsible to give permanent visas to people who do not understand the local culture. It is also undesirable to use the "leave them alone" policy in "respecting" immigrant cultures. Immigrant cultures need to change, and people must become culturally intelligent or stay in the margins of society. People who are culturally intelligent zero in on aspects of culture that are different and respond appropriately."^[1]

Reconciliation must be sought. It might take longer than we would like and it may require us to humble ourselves walking slowly back the way we came to learn a different approach, but ignoring it will leave casualties in a growing minefield of anger and resentment.

When people prepare to immigrate, they really need to prepare themselves in advance for the cultural expectations, temptations, and disappointments that they will experience. It is almost like an iteration of Proverbs 20:21 “An inheritance gained hastily in the beginning will not be blessed in the end.”  

So am I blaming the immigrants? No, I am not, but we would be doing them a service to help prepare them before they come as well as coming alongside to befriend and coach them once they are here. I have read a number of studies that show that most foreign university students studying in the US will never be invited into an American home for a meal, or a holiday, during their stay here. If that is the case then they will probably leave without any positive relational ties to the West, and that sense of exclusion and distance may spell trouble for us in the long run since they are the next leaders of their countries.

Here are a few of the ideas that I think might be helpful to communicate to cultural guests and to ourselves as well:

·       No place is perfect no matter what it looks like on TV.

·       No people are without flaws and engagement will require intentionality, patience, and forgiveness.

·       While no one should be kept down, don’t expect everything to be handed to you. It takes work to get a leg up.

·       Much of what you observe will seem strange or even wrong according to your culture of origin, don’t hesitate to ask for cultural clarification.

·       No one should expect someone else to have to carry their load for them.

·       No one should be kept at arm’s length and ghettoized by the dominant culture, but no one will be successful without learning the culture of the land where they live and work (or want to work).

Part of breaking out of the cultural ghetto is building trust. Someone has to go first. Instead of joining in the generational jihad of blame that hinders true engagement, perhaps we can just pause to consider how well are we doing in our efforts directed at breaking down barriers of mistrust and make any adjustments that are necessary. [This applies to members of both the dominant and the minority cultures.]

 

Then, if you have a table, set another place and invite someone in.

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[1] Soon Ang, and Linn Van Dyne, eds. Handbook of Cultural Intelligence: Theory, Measurement, and Applications (Armank, NY: M.E. Sharpe, Inc., 2008), xii.

Bridge-building in a Chaotic World

Tilikum Crossing "The People's Bridge",
a controversial new bridge in Portland, Oregon

Why do we need bridges? So the people can cross over something in their environment that divides them—like a canyon, river, or other body of water. Probably the first thing to be decided in building a bridge is if one is needed and wanted, secondly we need to ask who is going to pay for it. Once these questions have been addressed a bridge builder needs to know something about the forces (loads) that a bridge must withstand.

·         Dead loads that don’t move or change, the weight of the bridge itself.

·         Environmental loads that include hydraulic friction, seismic stability, and wind.

·         Live loads referring to temporary or moving forces (e.g., traffic), etc.

I frankly don’t want someone building a bridge that doesn’t know anything about engineering, geology, local weather, and the needs of the people it is designed to serve. Do you remember the famous debate over the very expensive “bridge to nowhere” in Ketchikan, Alaska? Right here in the Portland metro area, we have the failed Columbia River Crossing (CRC) an effort to build a very expensive bridge without solving a problem, and without the support of the population as an exercise in a government’s agenda being forced on the people. Thankfully it has been stopped, but approximately $240M of the people’s money was wasted on this project.

Obviously, my question isn’t really about building physical bridges but about building relational bridges, bridges of understanding, forgiveness, and reconciliation between individuals, groups, races, and nations. So why talk about the engineering of physical bridges? Because many of the same issues come into play when trying to metaphorically "build bridges" between people(s).  

As we build relational bridges, we first must ask if a bridge is needed. Bridges should not be built any further than they are wanted. Having a bridge spanning our defensive separation is scary if we don’t fully trust those people on the other side. If we seek to bring people together then we had better make sure we are not placing one group at a greater risk for oppression (2 Timothy 3:2-5). The bridge must be for the benefit of both parties.

Building a bridge also takes time. A physical bridge not only has to be planned, and built, but it has to be maintained against structural degradation due to the normal stresses of use and environmental stresses from corrosion, freezing, temperature fluctuation, insects, etc. Sometimes bridges cannot safely be crossed quickly. Are relational bridges so different? We all know that relationships take constant work to maintain. So how do we pass on the passion for maintaining relational bridges to the next generation? (2 Timothy 2:1-2).

Bridge-builders also need to be concerned about the safety of those working on the bridge as well as those who will use the bridge in the future. Do we care that some of those working with us might “fall off” during construction? When the Golden Gate Bridge was built in the 1930s they pioneered the use of hard hats and safety nets. Do we have a safety net in place for our relational bridge-builders that is at least as effective as when the Golden Gate Bridge was constructed? Or, are co-builders merely commodities to be used up, expendable resources before the overarching goal of completing the task?

Tragic bridge collapses in recent years cause me to warn against bridges being built too quickly on the unstable soil of assumption and misunderstandings. Recently, newly constructed highway bridge columns had to be blown up after it was discovered that they were built on unstable ground. Without measuring the cultural distance that needs to be spanned, doing the seismic mapping of past offenses, and completing the site preparation of building trust, the bridge is doomed to fall beneath the weight of the forces arrayed against it. When building relational bridges we need to count the cost as well. Is this bridge worth the cost it takes to build, or does it lead nowhere? (2 Timothy 2:23) Do we evaluate the process and participants on a worldly level or according to the metrics of Christ? (1 Samuel 16:7; 2 Cor. 5:16-17) Jesus, the ultimate bridge-builder, became one of us and completed the task not by force of power or decree of authority, but by the humble giving of himself to save others. Our calling is to follow his uncomfortable example in showing reconciling love for others.

I will explore some of these questions in future posts. I welcome your comments along the way. In the meantime, Ephesians 4:31-32 gives us a great place to start building, preparing to be safe, bridge-worthy people that others would welcome into their neighborhood. “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”

Golden Gate Bridge in Fog