The Birth of the Rebel Jesus (Reconsidering Ronald Reagan)

´´When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a communist.´´ -Archbishop Dom Hélder Camara

First of all, merry Christmas! As I celebrate Christmas in an entirely new way (expect a post on how Christmas is celebrated here in the next month…but I want to wait to write that until I’ve actually celebrated it!), know that I am thinking of and praying for each of you and hoping that you have a joyful holiday season.

This Christmas post has an admittedly strange subject (Ronald Reagan and the effect of U.S. neoliberal economic policies on Latin America), but it’s inspired by and structured around Jackson Browne’s beautiful, tongue-in-cheek, and profoundly challenging ballad “The Rebel Jesus.” Stanzas of the song will be included in italics. I recommend taking the time to listen to the song itself in this video.

Before proceeding any farther, I want to admit up front that this post is going to be honest and strongly opinionated. I recognize that, and I know that many of you will disagree with me. I know that many of you (including my dear parents – Hi Mom, Hi Dad) voted for Ronald Reagan. Many agree that his ideas of capitalism and neoliberal economics are in fact the best way to govern our country and our world. At least one of you (hello James, if you’re reading this) sleeps with a framed picture of the man next to your bed! Forgive me then, friends, if I speak too strongly. My purpose is not to offend you but to offer a different perspective, one widely held in Peru and as far as I know among the majority of the Latin American world (not including the proportionally miniscule rich aristocracy), on policies that we often take for granted as “necessary to defend democracy and freedom.” I want to offer you the perspective, as far as I understand it, of those who have lived through the negative effects of these policies and who know better than any of us ever could that in the economic and foreign policy decisions of the United States, there are Lives in the Balance.

All that said, let us begin:

All the streets are filled with laughter and light
And the music of the season,
And the merchants’ windows are all bright
With the faces of the children.
And the families hurrying to their homes,
As the sky darkens and freezes,
Will be gathering around their hearths and tables
Giving thanks for God’s graces
And the birth of the Rebel Jesus.

Many of you know that I tend to identify myself more with the left end of the political/theological/economic spectrum (Understatement? Yes.) And because of that, I have encountered many difficulties working with the more theologically and socially conservative Protestant church here in Peru. However, something very interesting I’ve noticed is that regardless of how conservative the people I’ve met are in their religious beliefs or understanding of personal moral conduct (no dancing, no drinking, etc.), none of them are economically conservative as we define it in the United States. And they all have their fair share of complaints about the policies of good ole’ George W. Bush.

But then again, that’s not really that remarkable. Most people in the States have their fair share of complaints about W. Bush-bashing is the cool thing to do. Heck, even the Dixie Chicks are doing it. What may come as more of a surprise to my readers is the virtually unanimous criticism of Ronald Reagan.

The United States loves to glorify Ronald Reagan. Reaganomics. Military strength. The Fall of Communism. Reviving our investment-centered economy. Though of course the inherent goodness of any of these things is certainly debatable (and I would be willing to talk about any of them with you, if you would like), the fact of the matter is that our national history generally remembers Reagan as a president who, in the face of any struggle, did all he could to serve the interests of the United States of America.

Well they call him by the Prince of Peace
And they call him by the Savior,
And they pray to him upon the sea
And in every bold endeavor,
And they fill his churches with their pride and gold
As their faith in him increases
But they’ve turned the nature that I worship him
From a temple to a robber’s den,
In the words of the Rebel Jesus.

And you know, despite what I or anyone else might say about the long-term effects of his policies on our country, the above is true: Ronald Reagan consistently did all he could to protect and serve the United States. But in the eyes of the people I’ve talked to here in Peru, that’s exactly the problem. Reagan was always looking out for the United States. And whether we like it or not, he lived then and we live today in a global community. The president of the world’s greatest superpower (or one of the world’s two greatest superpowers, in Reagan’s time) cannot justifiably look out for the interests of his or her country alone.

Some of the Reagan administration’s foreign policy blunders are well-known, such as the Iran-Contra scandal, where the administration, likely with Reagan’s blessing, used money that it had illegally gained from selling arms to Iran to, also illegally, support a right-wing, essentially terrorist group in Nicaragua working to overthrow the democratically-elected leftist Sandinista government. Other similar but lesser-known stories arise all over Latin America (Colombia, El Salvador, Guatemala, Panama) with the same pattern: US aids right-wing, military overthrow of a popular government that we perceive as a “potential Communist threat.”

However, undoubtedly, when we think about the foreign policy of Reagan, the major even that comes to mind is the end of the Cold War. A milestone in history that any history book I’ve ever read regards as one of the greatest accomplishments in 20th-century history. And certainly there were good things that came from it; the Soviet Union didn’t have a great human rights record either, to say the least, and there are ways in which its demise contributed to human freedom, health, and dignity. However, one has to ask, was Reagan really “assuring the safety of the world in the face of a Communist threat” by building up our nuclear arms program? Was his ideal of neoliberal capitalism really the way to protect individual rights and liberties? After all, what about the rights to life, food, water, shelter, and health that the poor, in the US and abroad, were effectively denied by these policies? Why did the “great and legendary” president of a country that was to be the “beacon of light and freedom in the world” increase funds to the military but decrease healthcare spending? Where these policies really about the good of the world, or were they to protect our own interests?

We guard our world with locks and guns
And we guard our fine possessions
And once a year, when Christmas comes,
We give to our relations
And perhaps we give a little to the poor
If the generosity should seize us
But if any one of us should interfere
In the business of why there are poor
They’d get the same as the Rebel Jesus.

But the point of this post isn’t just to criticize the attitude and actions of Ronald Reagan and the policies of his administration. Because the fact of the matter is that Ronald Reagan, or George Bush, or Joseph Stalin, or Adolph Hitler, or any other well known historical figure who has played a role in serious human rights abuses, did not do it on his/her own. The blame extends even outside the circle of their administrations and direct supporters. The self-centered political and economic rhetoric so evident in the foreign policy of the Reagan administration existed in our country long before Reagan was born. George W. Bush did not detain Muslim-Americans after 9/11 without our fearful assertion that this was in fact the best way to detect Homeland Security, nor did his father send political refugees from Haiti to the inhumane, concentration-camp-esque living conditions of Guantanamo Bay without our xenophobia to support him. Stalin and Hitler would not have been able to commit the atrocities they did without the masses of people who believed in what they preached and without powerful countries like the US and Great Britain initially turning a blind eye to what was going on in Germany and Russia. The responsibility for what happens to our brothers and sisters living in other countries does not lie solely with our heads of state and elected officials. It belongs to you and to me.

I’m currently reading a book called Pathologies of Power: Health, Human Rights, and the New War on the Poor by Paul Farmer, the doctor and human rights activist about whom Mountains Beyond Mountains is written. Writing about his experience working as a doctor of the poor in Haiti, Peru, Cuba, Russia, and the United States, Farmer focuses on the root problem of the diseases he treats, which he calls structural violence. While he chooses to spend less time defining it and more time demonstrating it through patients’ life stories and real life situations, some of us (like myself) like more concrete definitions. So for those other Meyers-Briggs J’s out there, structural violence is, as I understand it, the existence of political and economic systems that, while they may not directly wage war against people (as the US did with the Contras in Nicaragua), perpetuate inequalities and lead to the inescapable suffering and death of the poor and oppressed.

This is hard stuff – harder still when we hear Farmer’s diagnosis that a great deal of the structural violence in the world is caused by the neoliberal economic policies of our dear old US of A. Whether we want to admit it or not, the lives of many of the world’s destitute are affected by our daily decisions. Where does the food we eat come form, the clothes we wear, the oil we use? I challenge you to start asking that question, and if you don’t know the answers, to do some research. I warn you, the answers you find will probably disturb you. This is not a fun exercise. But it is, I believe, the only way to begin to construct a truly peaceful world, free of the overt and covert violence that plague our world today. The only way to begin to construct the Kingdom of God.

But pardon me if I have seemed
To take the tone of judgment
For I’ve no wish to compete with
This day and your enjoyment
In a life of hardship and of earthly toil
There’s a need for anything that frees us
So I bid you pleasure, and I bid you cheer,
From the heathen and the pagan
On the side of the Rebel Jesus.

And this, perhaps, is why this Christmas season, I ask you to reconsider Ronald Reagan. I ask you to look at a president that the we the rich of America have idolized (and sometimes the poor too, for that matter) and remember those whose lives and families were torn apart by the violence, actual and structural, that his policies created in the Latin American world.

And here I return to the quote by Dom Helder Camara with which I began. Here in Peru, I have the opportunity to “serve the poor.” But what good is it for us to serve the poor if we don’t work to change the systems and situations that have cursed some people to be poor in the first place? And what good am I really doing offering my time and assistance if I continue to live my life according to the oppressive and violent structures that give me a nice free T-shirt but don’t pay the Haitians who made my shirt a fair wage with which to feed their families? (Just for the record, I chose Haiti for that example by looking at the tag of the T-shirt I’m currently wearing. What’s worse – it’s a shirt from a church event! I’m telling you, friends, this structural violence has just become an ingrained and acceptable part of our culture.)

So friends and family, merry Christmas. Know that on this special day, it is hard for me to be far from you. But I take comfort in the knowledge that December 25th, we will be united in a celebration of joy, peace, giving, love, and perhaps even the overturning of structural violence. Feliz Navidad a todos. Let us celebrate the birth of the Rebel Jesus.

Beyond Mountains are Mountains

The title of this post is a Haitian Proverb and the title of Tracy Kidder's book Mountains Beyond Mountains. I don't remember exactly how it was used in the book (I think to describe one of Paul Farmer's treks across Haiti?), and I'm not even that sure what it's supposed to mean in the cultural context, but yesterday I think I got a glimpse into what it might be trying to say...

By the way, I'm in Peru! Lima, to be exact. I've been here for almost a week and so far am having an incredible experience! Orientation was wonderful (particularly the worship services...hopefully I'll have time to write more about that later), and though saying goodbye to Andy for a year was really hard, I've found myself feeling very alive here in Lima. My fellow YAVs are wonderful (check out the links to their blogs on the left), and I've really enjoyed living with them this week. Though I know we are all going out to where we are called and where we belong, I'll be sad to see 4 of the 6 leave for their placements in the provinces of Peru at the end of this week. (Though Joe will still be in Lima with me. Poor thing.) Regardless, I'm excited to be building a community that can offer each of us fellowship and support during our time in Peru. It helps to know that there are people I love and care about who are going through similar experiences.

Anyway, onto the real subject of this post -- mountains. Yesterday, we went on a hike with some friends of the family we're currently staying with and members of the churches where I'll be working. Many of you know this, but for those who don't, I'm not the biggest fan of hiking. I'm in terrible shape and I always feel self-conscious about how slow I am and guilty for holding others (usually my fast-walking mom) back. So needless to say I was apprehensive yesterday morning as we prepared for what our Peruvian friends called our "walk," especially when I learned that it was 13 kilometers (for American brains like mine, that's a little more than 8 miles). Fast-walking mom's jaw probably just dropped as she read that. That's right, Mom, 8 miles. And aside from being very sore and sunburnt, I'm still in one piece!

We started the hike at 9 AM in the shantytowns of Comas, a district of Lima very near where I'll be living and working. Many of the poor families of Lima have built their one-room homes up along the side of the mountains we were climbing. It was a moving and heart-breaking juxtaposition -- the natural, divinely-created beauty of the mountains next to the heaps of garbage and rampant poverty that our human institutions have brought about. The mixture of emotions it brought about in me really can't be put into words. I wish that I could share pictures with you, but my camera actually broke (sad times...anyone looking to get me a birthday present?). However, I know you can see at least a few pictures on the blogs of my fellow Peru YAVs, so please explore that if you have the time. It's the best and really only way I know how to describe what we saw.

We were told our goal was to travel over a mountain between Comas and San Juan Lurigancho another district of Lima with similar poverty to Comas. To be honest, for the first hour or so, I hated it. Like I said, hiking's never been my thing, and this was by far the most difficult hike I'd ever been on. There was no trail like my cushy Blue Ridge Mountain hikes, and we were literally scaling surfaces that were at about a 45 degree angle to the ground. I found myself many times on my hands and knees climbing over the rocks and dirt (apparently my face got pretty dirty too and served as the entertainment for many on the hike). While I enjoyed the time with my fellow YAVs and new Peruvian friends, I felt physically exhausted, and my self-esteem was taking a pretty big hit.

And here's where the title comes in. Each time we made it to the top of one mountain (which, naturally, got progressively bigger and more treacherous), our Peruvian guides promised that the next was "el ultimo cerro" (the last hill). However, we soon learned that "el ultimo cerro" means something a little different to us gringos. Each time we made it to the peak of one mountain, an even larger loomed before us. The Haitians are right -- beyond mountains, there are mountains. They NEVER stop. And apparently for the Peruvians, all these separate peaks were one big "cerro," el ultimo cerro, in fact.

After awhile, I gave up believing that we would ever reach el ultimo cerro. Which was good, because there must have been at least 4 "ultimos cerros." But the thing is, I started to really enjoy the hike. As we climbed on, I became accustomed to the physical exhaustion and began to accept the self-esteem blow as a lesson in humility. There was no way I was going to make it through the mountain(s) by myself -- I needed to accept Efrain's outstretched hand, listen to Joe's expert climbing advice, and accept Alissa's knee-brace on the way down (and listen to Anna when she oh-so-motheringly insisted that I put it on right then!). At the same time, I was provided with small opportunities to reciprocate generosity to the group -- I could carry Sarah Alta's water bottle in my backpack, catch Sarah Baja as she slid down the mountain behind me (most likely because I had loosened up the dirt by sliding down myself), and offer my hand to Jose to help him make it up a particularly difficult patch of rocks. Yesterday, I feel that I truly learned about solidarity and reciprocity. Those are two buzzwords that the YAV program likes to throw around that I've contemplated and "theorized about" countless times, but yesterday, I lived and experienced them as realities and integral parts of the Christian life. Why else am I in Peru except to practice solidarity and reciprocity? How else can we live as disciples of Christ?


I leave you with this: a reflection from Eduardo, my host dad and the pastor of one of the churches where I'll be working. For devotion one day this week, he shared the story from John's Gospel of Jesus healing the cripple at the pool of Bethsaida. (Read it here -- John 5:1-9) In this story, many who need healing have congregated around the pool of Bethsaida, for legend has it that the Angel of the Lord comes down periodically to stir the waters and, after this happens, the first one into the pool will be cured of any disease. The man that Jesus heals is a cripple who has been waiting there for 38 years and has never made it down to the water in time. When Jesus sees this man, he asks him a strange, either sarcastic or dim-witted question, "Do you want to get well?" The cripple does not answer the question, but responds in an even stranger manner, saying, "I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred.
While I am trying to get in, someone goes down ahead of me." Eduardo proposed to us that this is not so much a story about miraculous healing as it is about solidarity. So many people lived together by this pool, likely in some sort of community, and some for as long as 38 years. They must have shared with one another and been integral parts of each other's lives. Still when the water was stirred and the miraculous healing was offered, it was every man or woman for him or herself. Despite living in community for so long, when it came down to the wire, selfish individualism won the day. However, Eduardo proposed to us that maybe these desperate and sick people had been experiencing this miracle the wrong way. Maybe it wasn't about getting to the water first. Maybe it was about helping one another get down to the water. Maybe it was even about circling the pool, joining hands, and and stepping in at the same time so that all present might be healed.

What would happen if we all joined hands and stepped into the pool? Perhaps that, in fact, was the "milagro" (miracle) that Jesus wanted us to experience.

"When summer's beginning to give up her fight..."

Welcome one and all!! For any of you who don't know, I will be spending next year (beginning August 31) in Lima, Peru, serving as a Young Adult Volunteer for the PCUSA. I will be working with an organization called the Fraternidad Cristiana Vida, a group of 10-12 churches that are part of the Peru Joining Hands Network. I will be working with two churches in particular with their Sunday School and youth programs as well as compassion programs and humanitarian aid. I'm living with Eduardo Arborccó, the president of the Fraternidad, and his family. As I find out more about my placement and what I will be doing, I will let you know!

This blog is here partly to keep you all updated as to my adventures and partly for my own sake, to make me intentional about writing down my thoughts and experiences in a regular and coherent manner. I've been reading the book ¡Gracias! by Henri Nouwen, a journal that he kept for the six months that he spent in Bolivia and Peru. While I may not agree with all of his theology, I love the way he records his thoughts, however disparate and random they may seem, into a book that as a whole makes many important points and lasting impressions. So consider this blog my own humble attempt at my own important points and lasting impressions. If I ever publish it, I promise to give it a less cliché name than "gracias."

By the way, ¡Gracias! was one of two books recommended to me by a fellow YAV (I don't remember who...maybe Sara or Anna? Whoever recommended these books, thank you so much!) before coming to Peru. While it's certainly an interesting read, I'd recommend Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder if you're looking for one book to read this summer. Kidder writes of his first-hand experience with Dr. Paul Farmer, a daring and unconventional doctor who dedicates his life to helping the poorest of the poor, particularly in Haiti, but also in Peru, Russia, Cuba, and many other places. It is a truly inspiring, moving, and challenging book about modern-day heroes that wrestles with many important questions and challenges our modern Western idea that serving the poorest of the poor is not cost-efficient. Check it out, I promise, you won't regret it.

I leave for YAV orientation a month from this Friday (the 24th) and am spending most of my time babysitting and preparing for this great adventure. Each YAV is asked to raise $9,000 to help fund his/her time of service, and I am blessed and astonished to say that, thanks to the immense generosity of family, friends, and several churches, I have exceeded this fundraising goal! Thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart! Should you wish to contribute more (or if you had planned on giving to me but have not yet done so), I encourage you to give to my boyfriend, Andy Bair. Check out his blog here. You can also still give money to me, and any money over the $9,000 will go into the general account to support all 60 national and international YAVs.

Well, I believe that's all for now -- I should be getting to bed before I babysit at 8 tomorrow morning. I don't know exactly how often I'll be updating, but check back in every week or so and see! I'll try to also send a message out to the facebook group every time I update!

Paz de Cristo, mis amigos,
Ginna