|
Friends United Meeting |
 |
Quaker Life
July 2002
FUM 2002 Triennial Sessions
July 10-15, 2002
Nairobi, Kenya
A Call to Quakers for Stepped Up Evangelism
By Miriam Khamadi Were, Nairobi Yearly Meeting of Friends
While writing my book, The Land Between, I am discovering the transcendence of the act of writing. My relationship to the small symbols on the page has become intimate and transformative, moving me out of myself while at the same time moving me deeper into self. This paradox, this act of writing has become a ministry to me.
My story is not so unusual: a mid-life mother goes back to school and ends up practicing her education in a new setting. Yet there are deeper stories in it—love of land, survival and faith in God. Perhaps my writing will connect others to creation or to the deep spirituality of another culture. I hope so. Writing has been an act of creation in itself.
As I write, I am in relationship with my readers. I place myself behind their eyes and imagine their responses. Are they moved by this passage? Does the choice of this word excite and elevate the meaning? Will they find hope and wisdom in this? I do not write alone. If the muse sits on my left shoulder, then an audience of readers sits upon my right. Sometimes they squirm.
My writing, like spirituality, is rooted in reconciliation. The relationship between my reader and me has potential. As I heal old wounds, so may they. As I encounter fears, they may move to courageous action, and as I build community, so may they. If I am able to communicate how loving and gracious the Yupik Eskimo people of Alaska are, then my reader may let go of some of their racist or stereotypical thinking.
Words have the power to soften and inform, to clarify and show. Words are teachers. In the quiet of our private spaces while drinking tea in our favorite chair, we may come across a phrase or thought that clicks and shifts our awareness. We grow. Wanting to share this growth with others, we pass the poem, phrase or book to friends and thus a simple ministry begins—simple on the surface, but deep in its potential. I hope my book will be like this; I hope my voice will reach out to others and help them grow.
The Bible says, "In the beginning, there was the Word..." (John 1:1) I don't take this lightly. Word. Words. Letters. Sentences. Paragraphs. Chapters. Essays. Psalms. Poems. Books. Magazines. Pen to paper. Writing. Words—small units of language, plain, yet with roots so deep they march down history, past wars, and plagues, and cultures into forgotten time.
Can you imagine humanity before writing? Only 100 years ago, Yupik people did not write. Yet the word was alive, kept alive in story, in dance, in song. They drew pictures in the sand with "story" sticks. There were no letters; words were pictures, miniature shadow figures engaged in acts of survival. When letters finally defined their language, they wrote these stories, ancient tales from as far back as the people lived, perhaps 15,000 years. Fifteen thousand years. I am humbled. The words survived.
Writing is a ministry to the writer and the reader, to human history and the subjects. Working as a scribe or an inventor, writers may gather thoughts from a source of greater mystery than themselves. This is the miracle of writing; the transcendent does occur. Writers become pilgrims on a quest, searching for truth and clarity and sometimes, just sometimes, in the excitement of a carefully chosen phrase, an incarnation takes flight and the illuminated page becomes a holy grail. The tiny symbols perform an act of grace.
And so we crusading writers plod the mundane road of words, seeking flickers of inspiration in our choice of slithery squiggles, hoping upon hope that we expose a sacred relic or pave the path so others find their way. Usually we won't know if we've scratched the surface of another. We can only guess. And try. If I am able to share the awe I feel for the people of the Arctic plain or bring the beauty of our planet into focus, if I am able to give hope to one person who is grieving or set afire the courage of another, then I shall have ministered in words.
Ingrid Fabianson is a licensed Clinical Social Worker who graduated from ESR with a MasterŐs in Divinity. She works as a chaplain/social worker/substance abuse counselor in the acute psychiatric unit at Reid Hospital, Richmond, Indiana. She is the mother of four children and the grandmother of one.
Copyright (c) 2002 Friends United Meeting
Return to June 2002 Contents page