Sorry in
advance that this isn’t the normal cheerful update on how things are going, but
it’s important to me, and I hope it makes us all think.
I have a
difficult thing to explain to you all. One that I hope we all can learn from. I
know I already have spent much time in reflection about this particular issue,
and I still don’t know what my conclusion is, or if I will ever come to one,
but for now, I just need to share.
Several
days into my new assignment in Mirebalais, the night before I was to be
introduced to the local partner church, I was asked by the pastors to remove my
nose ring. They made it clear that neither of them (the local pastor or the
head pastor of the denomination) had a problem with me or what I chose to do
with my nose, but that after a long meeting at the church that night, the conclusion
was drawn that they needed to ask me to take it out.
At that
point, I knew I had two choices. I could refuse, plant my feet in the ground,
and be stubborn about the issue (not the best way to start off the year), or I
could do as they asked and make everyone but myself happy. I suppose I
responded with a combination of both. First of all, I started crying as I
explained to them how much it hurt that the church felt I needed to change
before I could join in worship with them.
I told them one of the reasons why I have a
nose ring in the first place. Looking around my church growing up, I saw a lot
of the same kind of people. This isn’t necessarily wrong, but if I had been a
person with even the slightest difference, I wondered if I would ever feel at
ease wandering into a sea of uniformity. I knew that some people had certain
opinions or assumptions that came to mind when they encountered folks with
tattoos, piercings, hair, or clothes that were a little out of the ordinary. I
was uneasy about those unspoken assumptions and judgments, and I suppose I
wanted to challenge them. I wanted to be a counter example, that would open the
door to more counterexamples. If say, my grandparents (and I love them all
dearly) had something against people with, for example, nose rings, and I,
their granddaughter that they love very much, showed up with a nose ring one
day, and that little piece of metal didn’t have any effect on the character or
behavior of their granddaughter, perhaps they wouldn’t be so quick to judge
other people with nose rings. And perhaps other people with piercings might see
me in the church and think, oh! Maybe I am welcome here “as is”. You see my
logic here? I wasn’t trying to be super rebellious. I just like the idea of
challenging people’s mindsets so that they might be more open to differences .
Back to the
whole ordeal..
So I
explained, in my broken Creole (I also had my Creole teacher/translator nearby
who was very kind and helpful), how it saddened me that a church would ask
someone in my position, someone who has left her home behind for a year to come
and work in one of the world’s poorest countries, far from anything familiar,
to change her physical appearance in any way before being able to feel welcomed
by the church. I do not say all that to put myself on a pedestal for the choice
I have made to live here, but rather to say that if they would ask that of me,
what are they requiring of their neighbors and other Haitians who might want to
enter the front doors? I am glad that I
had the strength and the Creole to ask the pastors these questions in the midst
of my tears, and I could see in their eyes that they had no answer for me other
to say that it was an extremely legalistic church, and we all agreed that maybe
that wasn’t such a good thing, seeing the pain their rules were bringing to our
little meeting.
At the end
of it all, I did indeed take it out. I
felt it was the only thing I could do.
I learned a
great deal from the whole evening. I discovered how much these two pastors
really do care for me. I saw it in their eyes when I started to cry and in
their voices when they told me how much they fought on my behalf, explaining
that I was a hard worker and a good person and a tiny ring of metal has no
adverse effect on that. And I realized how much the pastors want this to go
well, as one of them woke up early to cook French toast as a special treat to
make it up to me. I realized what a good friend I have in my Creole teacher as
he helped me remove my nose ring for the first time from my snotty, tear soaked
nose, and then as he stood in my room with tiny pliers for a half hour trying to bend it back into shape
after I accidentally squashed it. I learned how much sadness a decision on
behalf of the church can bring, when my teacher told me the next day that he
couldn’t sleep because he was crying over the inability for people to accept
others just the way they are as Jesus would. And I learned how much love I
already have for this project and these people. I deeply care about this
experience and I want it to go well, so much so that I will change myself for a
church that I didn’t even know at the time. A church that I hope will grow and
open its mind and its doors to all who pass by.
I do not
tell you this to speak badly of this church. I am probably one of the first foreigners
to join in their fellowship. I know that even without my piercing, I come with
so many differences, and my skin color, my hair, my earrings, and my clothes
are enough differences to start with. My hope for this year is that I can show
Christ’s love though my actions here, and I hope, through baby steps, that
people here can look past whatever is on the outside and see what, or rather
Who is inside of me.
I also tell
you this as perhaps a plea to take people as they are. Invite them in and hear
their story before even thinking about making a judgment or assumption about
them. Chances are you’ll find something in common. You’ll laugh, smile, maybe
sing or share a meal, and before you’ll know it, you’ll forget all about the
thing you were first so caught up on.
Thanks for
reading. Hope you all are doing well.
