Wendy Tyndale died on Christmas Day, A special soul, practical and idealistic, demanding and generous, she truly lived her life as what Mary Catherine Bateson termed a composition. She worked in many world regions and for different causes. Her career included stints as a quiet and effective human rights activist, working for a non-governmental organization, a journalist, an author, aunt, and loyal friend. She knew well East Germany at the time but above all loved Latin America. But for all her achievements and important legacies, Wendy was, in many respects, one of those women who infuse life and make things work, but don’t seek or even accept recognition, almost invisible to those without a discerning eye.
The part of Wendy’s life that I knew best and want to celebrate was her founding role for the World Faiths Development Dialogue (WFDD), which I now lead.
In 1998, the World Bank’s then President, James D. Wolfensohn, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, George Carey, launched an effort to bridge the very separate worlds of international development and religion. For all their differences they shared a deep concern for those left behind in poorer countries. They called on Wendy Tyndale (who was then working for Christian Aid) to help in a task that, it became increasingly clear, was far from simple and uncontroversial. Wolfensohn soon brought me into the picture and Wendy (and Carey’s colleague Canon Richard Marsh) were my first tutors. Wendy was a key leader in those early years, helping to navigate unexpected tensions and skilled in bringing wise people into what was a new and complex venture. Indeed, she set us on a path that continues to this day and in many core questions and ideas I hear the echoes of Wendy’s hopes and admonitions.
Wendy played many roles in those early years, a period that included the year 2000 turn of the millennium (with large events at the United Nations to launch hoped for new visions, secular and religious), the World Bank’s uneasy venture into the world of religion, the terrorist attacks of 9/11 and efforts to understand what had happened and why, and the doubts of World Bank member governments that engaging with religious actors was a priority. She began, I came to realize over time, with healthy skepticism about the international development world but always looking for common ground. Among early lessons I learned from her was to avoid the term ”expert”, associated with arrogance in Wendy’s world, and to look always and in meaningful ways to women working at the community level.
Three memories stand out for me from that foundational era, when the WFDD was truly testing the turbulent waters of religious attitudes towards development mantras, and vice versa.
First was the Millennium Summit of Religious Leaders at the United Nations in September 2000. The Summit began with a VERY long session with speech after speech. Tensions began to mount as there was no opportunity for participants (who had come from long distances to be part of what they saw as a historic event) to get a word in edgewise. A session we organized followed and the simmering tensions exploded, reflecting a widespread sense that the rich and powerful were excluding most voices. In an unruly shouting match, Wendy helped to bring about a process where microphones were labelled as “talking sticks”, respectfully managed by two colleagues (both were World Bank staff members but no one realized that). Among those she brought as a speaker was now Cardinal Ramazzini from Guatemala, a courageous advocate for farmers, migrants, and those hurt by mining ventures. (Wendy later went to San Marcos to support women’s groups in his community).
Then after the shock of 9/11, Wendy organized an event that I believe was so far below the radar that few even now are aware it took place, to explore what we could learn from people who were on the borders of more extreme religious ideas and organizations. It stands out to me as one of those rare events where my own thinking and values were tested and new paths opened. That illustrated the best of interfaith dialogue in action.
And Wendy loved Guatemala, where she had worked as a journalist and activist, and so that country was chosen as a “pilot” for the emergent WFDD. Wendy drew on her knowledge and contacts to support an interreligious group that sought to heal some of the bitter legacies of the war. I saw there what is widely touted as “best practice” but rarely truly practiced: respecting the ownership of people affected, even when they went in directions that diverged from the original ideas. Among many “learning” experiences for me was a meeting with an angry Christian evangelical leader whose contempt for the World Bank and the Guatemalan government were pretty much equal. The insights were painful but invaluable.
These glimpses and memories of Wendy’s WFDD activities are engraved in my memory, as she served as a tutor to someone who was navigating a very new world that included new kinds of doubts and hostilities. She was a true mentor, someone who thought deeply about both development as she experienced it and about the complex roles of religion. She insisted on a nuanced approach to understandings of poverty and poor communities and would never let platitudes go unchallenged. She truly cared about and invested in relationships. Her legacies include much of the best that I see in the WFDD over the years and indeed in what today was call (hopefully) strategic religious engagement. And I miss my dear friend.
