II

Over the next few years I was led to work in El Salvador, where the interaction of spiritual development and peace work were profound. I was inspired by Liberation Theology and impressed by the activism and dedication of Christian Base Communities. I believed in empowerment work, and knew that health care was an important area of need for poor people there.

When I first had a desire to work abroad, my immediate family was supportive. Soon thereafter, as my leading became clearer and focused on El Salvador, other Quakers became involved. At the first South Central Yearly Meeting I ever attended, I spontaneously expressed my desire for sponsorship. (I knew little then about good Quaker order!) I was surprised and gratified that Friends were not only willing to lend their names to a previously unknown woman's leading, but wanted some real participation in her experience--as we say, "way opened".

This was my first, but by no means last, experience with such a response. I was led to ask a number of churches for support, and continued to find individuals and groups that provided financial, moral, logistical and prayer support throughout the 4 years I was in El Salvador. Through many public and private talks about my work, I learned about speaking Truth to Power, and developed an active trust in God's ability to provide for my needs in abundance.

During the four years I was in El Salvador (1986-90), I confronted issues regarding community life, empowerment, intervention, nonviolence, and the struggle for justice. I found an assignment in El Salvador through Crispaz, an ecumenical group that placed church-sponsored volunteers with church-based projects. I was paired with a Catholic priest, and we were assigned to do parish work in a rural town, which the Bishop called "backward and abandoned." Although I was prepared to do health work, I found myself involved in Bible study groups, singing hymns and attending Mass, and trying to help parishioners with social and economic needs.

After a year or so I did begin a health project, but I remained an active part of the parish team. Over the time we worked together, (living in the "convento") several nuns and other lay people joined us. My relationships with others in my working group taught me about acceptance, negotiation, and compromise. Some of my co-workers' unappealing eccentricities became beloved traits after I came to know and trust them, and tasks I would never have imagined undertaking became openings to the health work I was prepared to do.

The Salvadoran campesinos taught me hospitality, tact, graciousness and humility (although I don't claim to have mastered them!) The highly polarized political situation further reinforced my refusal to support violence as a means of social change, while enabling me to understand why oppressed peoples may see it as their only option. Our position required us to take a non-partisan stance (that is, not supporting any political group), but we understood ourselves not to be truly neutral, in that we were siding with the poor and oppressed. The government and other Right groups assumed or accused church workers of supporting the FMLN (Farabundo Marti Front for National Liberation) guerrillas, and it was important for both security, moral and philosophical reasons to avoid the appearance of collaborating with them.

I saw many examples of efforts that were professedly altruistic but really intended to further one cause or another, and I began to question stances of neutrality or altruism, even as I sought to express aspects of these values. On the Left, many church workers, nationals and foreigners alike, became involved not only in supporting the armed struggle, but (more distressingly to my way of thinking) one or another faction of the FMLN. After the cease-fire, some of the factional disputes divided the Left, making it weaker as a player in the political process.

Among people in El Salvador and the US working against poverty and oppression, there was a temptation to minimize guerrilla violence, and emphasize the desirable changes they were fighting for. Many of the people I most admired were involved to some extent in the struggle, whether as armed or unarmed militants. Our pastoral team felt itself called to denounce the acts of violence that came to our attention from whatever source. It is my opinion that a preponderance of violence was committed by the government/Rightists, and I did all I could to communicate the facts of violence on both sides, and to remind US audiences of the imbalance between the acts of the two sides.

While in El Salvador, I kept a somewhat lower profile. For example, I thought it would be less confining to publish my newsletter anonymously in case the written information were to fall into the wrong hands. I thought that would help to protect the people involved directly in parish or health work, as well as maintain my own capacity to avoid being expelled from the country. When I spoke publicly of violent acts in El Salvador, I carefully considered my audience, and cited Biblical references or church teachings as my authority. In private I decided whether to be more pointed depending on the person with whom I was speaking. I considered the extreme need for discretion in speaking, not to mention the borderline paranoia of our constant watchfulness, to be among the most difficult of the burdens and dangers I encountered in my service there.

I constantly reminded myself of my outsider status and the need of Salvadorans themselves to work out the solutions to their problems. I had to reflect on my actions, to communicate the truth as I saw it, even when this vision was always evolving. I saw that the fundamental work of social change is slow, painstaking, and ever-changing, with needs being almost infinite.

Even after four years of work, the project in which I worked was only partially successful; so I learned to do what I could and leave most of what had to be done to others and to God. I believe I was living out my commitment to the oppressed in the best ways possible for me, which were accompaniment and sharing of resources.

A part of my work in El Salvador which was very satisfying was the participation of others in the project. This was true both at home and in El Salvador, in ways that reinforced my growing faith. For instance, one late afternoon in El Salvador, I found myself alone in a neighboring town, wondering how to get back home before the beginning of a forced traffic stoppage that the guerrillas had announced for that night. Because the stoppage was an effective sabotage of the economy, the government had mobilized many soldiers on the highways.

It was frightening to travel with so many heavily armed soldiers about, since foreigners were frequently suspected of having sympathy for the guerrillas. If there were any confrontations between soldiers and guerrillas, we civilians might be caught in the cross-fire. Also, if I couldn't get all the way back to my town, two or three bus-rides away, I would have to stay in a strange place, and I'd be unable get word to my co-workers until the stoppage was lifted, which could be from three to fourteen days.

I decided to risk trying to go on. After a tense ride in a very crowded bus with other last-minute travelers, I arrived at the crossroads of the main highway. There the military presence was even stronger, with tanks and armored vehicles in position. As the sun was beginning to set, I was overjoyed to encounter some other residents of my town, and together we hitched a ride in the back of a truck to the turn-off for our town. Then we set out to walk the eight kilometers home in the dark.

My greatest fear had been while I was alone, and I felt happy and safe in our group, so I was thankful. The quiet countryside and dark sky seemed beautiful to my grateful heart. But being there would have been a fearful experience without my gratitude for my companions and my sense of God's protection.

My faith has felt most lively in peacemaking work in intense situations. Faith becomes stronger when it is the only means of support. I also believe that the most important expression of faith is living out my beliefs, and that doing so has given me many blessings. I have felt a sense of strength in "the valley of darkness", and joy amidst suffering.

Since my return to the US in 1990, I've found other ways to work for peace. During the first year after, while working on a manuscript about my experiences I struggled with culture shock. A friend asked if I were re-adjusted and my response was, "Was I ever adjusted?" I developed ways to work part-time and keep my income under (federal income) taxable levels. With my free time I worked on developing inner peace through some counseling and 12- Step work as well as spiritual practice. I became a leader in the Alternatives to Violence Project in Texas; participated actively in my Monthly Meeting, Yearly Meeting, and other Friends groups; and later worked on the Friends Peace Teams Project. III

The Apostle Paul said in 1 Corinthians that faith, hope and love are the greatest gifts of the Spirit, and that love is the greatest of the three. Although they are gifts, we receive them only when we find ways to open ourselves to them. In the same epistle, he speaks of other gifts: preaching, discernment, healing, speaking in tongues, and others that were important to the early Church's survival and growth. He praises prophecy as a very important gift. All of the gifts were important because of their usefulness to the essential ministries of the Church.

Among these gifts, I believe that hope is poorly developed among first-worlders. In my own experience, I've been disappointed in some of the things that I was taught by family and culture to trust as sources of fulfillment. On top of that I feel guilty about what I know are terrible injustices in the world, and my witting or unwitting participation in many of them. These feeling are deadening, and I have to draw upon other resources to stave off despair--resources I've learned through my struggles as a peacemaker. For some, perhaps, being a Quaker is enough. But I'm sure others long to live out their faith and see some glimmers of the fruits of their faithful efforts. Sarvodayans (of Sri Lanka) say "We build the road and the road builds us", and link spiritual development and social action.