Sunday, January 23, 2011

Week Two

Reading Reflections:
Hispanic/Latino Theology pp. 73-103
            This week’s reading continued the theme of storytelling. Chapter four, “In the Image and Likeness of God” by Ana Maria Diaz-Stevens, focuses on the role of literature in Hispanic theology. Literature is framed as storytelling, and Diaz-Stevens asserts that “storytelling…transcends the personal worldview to reflect the values upon which a society is either maintained or transformed” (86).  Throughout the chapter, she discusses several works of Hispanic literature that have contributed to Hispanic theology, such as Don Quijote (92). She emphasizes the power of la palabra (the word) in Hispanic culture, explaining that words have “the power to cause movement and change” (90). She goes so far as to say that through their words, Hispanic authors have illustrated “a new way of being Hispanic” (101). Words have a tremendous capacity for transforming the world and building peace, if used wisely. And most of all, words, if heard, can be a source of unity: “everyone must articulate his or her own story so that out of many voices will come one harmonious story of humanity” (90).
Chapter three, “The Lesson of the Gibeonites” by Francisco Garcia-Treto, focuses on the dialogic nature of Scripture, particularly in the story of the Gibeonites in Joshua 9 (74). Even though God commands Israel to “utterly destroy” the people of the land, “[making] no covenant with them and [showing] them no mercy,” (Deut 7.2), the Gibeonites manage to trick Joshua and “obtain a covenant that protects them, albeit reduced to the status of ‘hewers of wood and drawers of water’ for the congregation of Israel’” (75). In this story, the biblical text clearly displays a dialogic nature. God’s command to Israel does not get the last word; rather, the creative (and deceptive) Gibeonites are given a voice that ultimately tricks Joshua into disobeying the command of God! This is a matter of survival for the Gibeonites, and they do “[succeed] in subverting the genocial project the Deuteronomic Yahweh promulgated” (83). This redefines the dialogue between Israel and the “outsider” (83). In Joshua 9, the one “first defined as an undesirable alien to be exterminated from the promised land, has been heard and once heard can no longer be denied humanity or the consequent right to exist” (83, emphasis mine). Once the voice of the Gibeonites is heard by Israel and given a place in the biblical narrative, it transforms the relationship between Israel and the “other,” the “outsider” (83). While the status granted to the Gibeonites in Joshua’s covenant is alarmingly low, it is a status of life, of humanity. This is the fruit of dialogue; to hear the voice of the outsider, of the other, is to affirm their humanity and walk with them on the path toward becoming “strangers no longer” (42).

Journal Article Reflections:
            This week, I read one article in The Latino Journal and two articles in El Interprete. The article in The Latino Journal focused on the reapportionment of congressional seats in relationship to Latino population. According to the article, Hispanic voters make up 15.2% of eligible voters in states that gained seats, while they make up only 5.4% of eligible voters in the states that lost seats. Thus, “Hispanic voters are nearly three times more prevalent” in the states gaining seats. The article also pointed out that there are more Hispanic U.S. citizens under 17 (15.5 million) than the total non-citizen population (12.8 million). While this article did not specifically focus on Hispanic ministry, in order to serve the Hispanic population in the U.S., it is important to understand these political dynamics. In the short term, it will be interesting to see how Hispanic voters will use their increased collective power in Congress. And in the long term, it will be fascinating to see how the 15.5 million Hispanic U.S. citizens under the age of 17 will impact both local and national politics as they become eligible to vote.
            The article I most appreciated this week was “Grupos pequeños: El eslabón perdido” in El Interprete. This article focused on the “missing link” in our United Methodist churches today: small groups. It discussed John Wesley’s use of small groups, or “classes,” early in the Methodist movement. These groups served as a means of grace, as well as a way to live the life of both personal and social holiness that Wesley taught. This theme fit well with the other article I read in El Interprete, “Mi pasión es la enseñanza,” in which Irma M. Garza, a member of IMU El Buen Pastor in the Rio Grande Annual Conference, described the joy she has found in teaching Disciple Bible Study and ESL classes at her church. Irma herself was an ESL student when she came to the U.S., so this story is an example of the power of small groups in the local church setting. Small groups not only create space for people to receive God’s grace, they also provide the opportunity to those people to give back to their church family and community as Irma is doing. Both of these articles in El Interprete reminded me of the thing I love the most about the Wesleyan life of faith: the connection between personal and social holiness, and the abundance of opportunities to make and live that connection. As it says in the Book of Discipline of the UMC, “We proclaim no personal gospel that fails to express itself in relevant social concerns; we proclaim no social gospel that does not include the personal transformation of sinners” (BOD 49). While the UMC does not always succeed at proclaiming this relevant gospel, the firm foundation of tradition has been laid. Stories like Irma’s are glimmers of hope that the “missing link” of social holiness in our church is not really missing— it just needs reconnected and renewed.

Vocational Discernment:
            This week was filled with many opportunities for vocational discernment— conversations, classes, and much time in prayer. In Peacemaking Seminar this week, my understanding of career and call were challenged in ways that had me thinking all week long. You asked me to think about where I draw the lines consistently in my life and how I intentionally live in solidarity with those whom I feel called to serve. And you talked about being called to serve the Hispanic community as something that transcends a career— something that I could (and will) live out even if I am not employed specifically in Hispanic ministry. This struck me as revolutionary, that my call could be about living in a certain way rather than doing a certain job. As I spent time in prayer about this, I realized that in my attempt to discern my vocation, I have been neglecting my call. I have spent far too much time discerning what God wants me to do and not enough time discerning who God wants me to be. And honestly, it seems to me that if I know who I am called to be, what I am called to do will flow naturally out of that. Last week when I listed all the possibilities I see for my vocation, I did so with the hope that by the end of the semester I would figure out which one was the “right” option. But after this week, I have a new hope: that by the end of the semester, I will have a better understanding of the person I am called to be in Christ. And through the lens of that calling— that identity—I pray that I “may discern what is the will of God— what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Rom 12.2).

No comments:

Post a Comment