Canadian Mennonite
Volume 11, No. 17
September 3, 2007
Readers Write
We welcome your comments and publish most letters sent by subscribers intended for publication. Respecting our theology of the priesthood of all believers and of the importance of the faith community discernment process, this section is a largely open forum for the sharing of views. Letters are the opinion of the writer only—publication does not mean endorsement by the magazine or the church. Letters should be brief and address issues rather than individuals.
Please send letters to be considered for publication to letters@canadianmennonite.org or by postal mail or fax, marked “Attn: Letter to the Editor” (our address is on page 3). Letters should include the author’s contact information and mailing address. Letters are edited for length, style and adherence to editorial guidelines.
Bible still able to speak to us in our time and place
Phil Wagler’s “The Bible as fiction” column (June 11, page 13), got me thinking. He asks, “[W]hen was the last time [Scripture] brought you correction and rebuke, rather than you bringing it criticism?” That is a question of challenge.
I am a student of English literature, and I also enjoy lay preaching once a year. I find the study of literature highly compatible with the study of Scripture. When Wagler states, “We seem to have lots of time to study a whole host of other things,” and then asks, “[S]o what has happened to Christians immersing themselves in Scripture?”
I find myself responding with, could we not use these “other things” as a springboard for an exploration of the Holy Scripture?
As I look at the Sermon on the Mount with eyes that have also read and appreciated a lot of current Christian literature, as well as post-structuralist theory, I see a text that is still very much alive. I see a text that has been written, paraphrased, translated, interpreted and exegeted countless times, yet is still able to speak to us in our time and place.
Matthew 6 “rebukes” me for wanting to be recognized for my talents rather than being content to be a person of integrity, reminds me of my dependence on God for even my most basic needs, stresses the importance of relationship and community, and exhorts me to “look at the birds of the air” and to “see how the lilies…grow,” in order to let go of material concerns and seek after righteousness. If I take this passage to heart, I feel “corrected” and, consequently, desire to strive after what is really important in life.
Not all biblical passages are clear to me. Nonetheless, increasingly I see a strength and power and timelessness within Scripture. Perhaps if we are allowed to look at Scripture as a text that is open to interpretation, precisely because of its ability to transcend time and place, and as a text that is able to speak to us exactly where we find ourselves, we will be more willing to explore it and find meaning and salvation within its holy pages.
All Canadians are ‘treaty people’
As coordinator of the MCC Saskatchewan Aboriginal Neighbours program, I have worked closely with the Office of the Treaty Commissioner in Saskatchewan for the past few years. Through our dialogue I have gained a new understanding of the treaties, both the written and oral understandings of them and how they have shaped and continue to shape our lives.
Through the commissioner’s office, I learned that we are all treaty people. When treaties were signed, there were three parties present: aboriginals, and non-aboriginals and the Creator God, who all gave their blessing to this sacred covenant.
The treaties offer direction and guidance about a mutually agreed process of how to live together in peace, harmony and mutual respect. This covenant binds the lives of the original signatories and their descendents together for as long as the sun shines, the grass grows and the rivers flow. Our lives and futures are bound together, but it requires trusting in God to guide us, building relationships with each other and love.
Soldier’s tales convince students not to enlist
In Esther Epp-Tiessen’s article on Canada’s involvement in the war in Afghanistan, “‘Confirmed kills’ include Canada’s peaceful identity,” June 11, page 12, she talks about the euphemisms that are used to diminish the horror of military combat.
It reminded me of the young soldier who visited the Grade 11 English classes I teach. A 21-year-old alumnus of our high school was home on leave from military duty in Afghanistan and some of my students suggested we invite him to our class. The euphemism he used to describe the killing of enemies by Canadian forces in Afghanistan was, “We neutralize them with extreme prejudice.”
My students weren’t fooled.
“You mean you kill them?” they asked. “Have you killed people?”
Our young guest then proceeded to tell us how his job was to ride atop a tank and, as cars approached on public roads, to assess whether the driver might be a suicide bomber. He usually had less than 20 seconds to decide to let them pass or “neutralize them with extreme prejudice.”
He told my students one of his first jobs in Afghanistan had been to take garbage bags and pick up the body parts of dead suicide bombers. The young man spoke with candour about the dust storms, sleep deprivation and side effects of malaria drugs on soldiers.
He told them he had not seen an Afghan female face since arriving at the Canadian base near Kandahar. All the women there wore burkas.
He talked about the thriving opium trade; the rampant sexual abuse of children; the garbage everywhere; and seeing people urinate, wash clothes, dispose of garbage and take a bath in the same stream that served as their source of drinking water.
He told us he had seen dead Afghan citizens skinned and hung from towers because they angered the Taliban by acting as informants for Canadian troops.
Our guest said there was absolutely nothing glamorous about the war. “It’s hell and I don’t want to go back,” he told my students.
Epp-Tiessen says she hopes future generations of Canadian young people will no longer engage in military combat, but find better ways to build security in the world. The 50 students who listened to a soldier speak honestly about the war in Afghanistan all assured me they will not be signing up for military duty. Hearing a soldier who had chosen military service tell his story certainly convinced them there must be more constructive ways to serve their country.
From Our Leaders
Come and see
I spent the summer immersed in the Gospel of John, writing Bible insight essays for adults working with the Gather ’Round children’s curriculum.
As always, the call of Jesus’ first disciples drew me in too. With them, I was privy to strange conversations, marvelous signs, a journey to the cross and a final picnic on the beach. My summer was not just about presenting this story in a helpful way for children’s writers and teachers. It soon became clear that the writer was addressing me—and the community of 21st century disciples we call Mennonite Church Canada.
“What are you looking for?” is the first question Jesus asks in John’s gospel. And it’s the provocative question that sets many of us on the journey of faith. When we wonder what it’s all about, Jesus responds, “Come and see.”
We’d better get ready, for the same invitation to discipleship takes us to places surprising and wonderful—and to places we’d rather not go.
Jesus’ “come and see” took his first disciples on an amazing journey through Galilee, to Jerusalem, to the cross and beyond. While Jesus addressed individual disciples from time to time, he also formed them into a band of disciples. Later, he sent the Spirit to guide the fledgling church along the way of all truth and to keep showing disciples things they couldn’t take in earlier (see John 16:12-15).
We’d better get ready, for the same invitation to discipleship takes us to places surprising and wonderful—and to places we’d rather not go. Because we dwell with Jesus as individuals and congregations, following him into our various communities and beyond. And we invite others to come and see, even as we go deeper ourselves. And the same Spirit wants to lead us along the way of all truth, in keeping with the life, teachings, death and resurrection of Jesus.
As we enter into the renewed energy of congregational life this fall, may we accept the invitation as congregations, as area churches and as MC Canada, to “come and see.” May we notice with surprise and gratitude God’s Spirit at work where we weren’t paying attention. May we learn to respond to the gentle rustle of God’s Spirit as sensitively as a grove of aspen trees catches the slightest puff of a breeze.
This fall in our churches across Canada, may we come to a more complete understanding of who Jesus is. May we willingly enter fully into the joy and the pain of following Jesus. May we grasp where Canadian society is attuned to God’s purposes, and where we must be distinct from our increasingly militarized society in order for our witness to have integrity. May our courage increase as we engage our world with the reconciling gospel of Jesus. May we listen to each other carefully and respectfully, knowing that God’s Spirit is likely to prompt us from just those places we find least acceptable.
What might God’s Spirit long to show us as a community of churches that we haven’t been able to take in earlier? Come and see!
Young Prophets
God is a programmer and life is his RPG
It is my belief that all humans perceive God in a way that is natural or logical for their state of mind. A painter says that God is a painter and life is his masterpiece. I’m a computer programmer; to me God is a programmer and life is his role-playing game (RPG).
An RPG is a game that usually has no clear ending. Players have the choice to do whatever they want whenever they want. It’s this open-ended story that allows a great comparison between life and an RPG.
God is a programmer. I believe this to be the case because it explains what our world is in the simplest of terms. When I program a game, I see everything. When I show gamers a world, I’ve seen the whole world. I know every inch and what every area has in it. When I create a program to allow a character to move around this world, I know every section he can reach, every place he can walk, and every way, shape and form of walking he can do.
I believe that God did the same thing with the creation of the universe. He told it how big it could be (an ever-increasing number), what shape it took (spherical planets), and what each little part looks like. When he made all plants and animals he told them how far they can move, what directions they could move (360 degrees), and how big each of their steps could be.
Similarly, I believe that God programs our lives like I program the lives of my characters. He, therefore, knows every move we can make, every place we can go, every step we can take. He’s seen the whole universe, he knows what every area has in it and what every inch looks like.
Life is an RPG. All RPGs are contained inside a world; this world might be big or small, but they all have some area in which they are placed. Similarly, our world is contained. We all exist inside this one universe, on this one planet—a contained environment.
Life, God and an RPG. Now all these things are fine, but how does this change anything? I believe that life is one big RPG that is written by God and that is so complex we can’t even comprehend it.
Why does this matter? How will this change your way of thinking? If God programmed life and has seen the whole universe, then he knows every step you can take. He doesn’t choose that step for you, but he knows every possible step that could be taken because he programmed what steps could be taken and in which directions.
You have the ability to choose your own destiny, to make your fate unique—but God set your limits, no matter how vast they are. God knows how far you can go and every possible distance you could go.
Family Ties
Second step to a good hug
For all of my adult life, home—that particular place of kin and familiarity where I spent my childhood—has involved a long drive or even a plane ride. In earlier times, when my dad was alive and my mom was younger, there was a joyous ritual I could count on, as predictable as the sun brightening the new day. When our car rolled into the driveway, my parents would hear the sound and immediately scamper through the door to greet us, arms extended and with huge smiles on their faces. These were great hugs, full of generous love and warm affirmation. Today, eight years after Dad’s death, I get a similar response from my mother, even if she has to push the cat off her lap and rise slowly from her easy chair.
Hugs with family members often move effortlessly through the different stages. People know what’s going to happen. They have given their assent long ago by participating in hugs repeatedly with these loved ones. This column addresses Step 2 of a good hug: the hugger’s task of waiting for the other’s response.
The first step—opening one’s arms—signals a desire to be closer, to receive something from the other. In the second step, the hugger pauses, however briefly, to obtain permission from the huggee. This step of waiting is one of the most nuanced, and most overlooked, steps to a good hug, but it is essential in setting the stage for mutuality. Huggers do not impose the hug, or force the other person to respond according to their dictates. It’s not a good hug if the person who is the object of the hugger’s request can’t choose to say no as well as yes.
We know we’ve missed our cue when we find ourselves hugging a stiff board instead of a responsive and engaged human being!
Sometimes we blow it. We don’t allow that window of waiting which gives the huggee the space they need to signal their yes or no. We know we’ve missed our cue when we find ourselves hugging a stiff board instead of a responsive and engaged human being! The other person’s discomfort should be a message for us to back off and maybe even apologize.
There are some occasions where we might hug without that space of permission-seeking. For example, with a distressed child, the hug might be exactly what is needed to bring calm and comfort. Children themselves often barrel eagerly into a hug, and adults are wise to respond in kind. If a person is overwhelmed, a touch can help bring strength and focus.
My son has a particularly effective move when I’m overly anxious and on the edge of “losing it.” “Mom,” he says, looking me steadily in the eyes and firmly grasping my shoulders with his hands. “It’s going to be okay.” The first time it happened, when he was a young teenager, I was so startled by the role reversal—I’m the adult here after all—that I was jolted out of my distress. On the few occasions it’s happened since, his touch helps to ground me. He didn’t ask for permission for this kind of touch, although he’d back off quickly if I sent the signal that his touch wasn’t wanted.
Good hugs involve permission. We let other people know we want a hug, and then we wait for their response. When they say yes to the hug, we move to Step 3—embracing.
God, Money and Me
Generous to a fault
Gifts are curious things. When Christmas, birthdays and weddings arrive, gifts are expected and easy to accept. Unexpected gifts are more complicated. Questions such as, “Why is this gift being given?” plague us. We tend to forget that it is the way of the Holy Spirit to bless us when we least expect it or when we have tremendous need.
“A couple stood to the left of the cash counter, the young man frantically searching through his wallet. The minutes passed, other customers came and went, but he kept thumbing through his wallet. He glanced over at his anxious wife, who shook her head as she flipped her cell phone closed.
“Is something wrong?” a curious bystander asked.
The young man explained that his credit cards were full, he had no cash and that his wife was unable to reach her parents on the phone. In short, he had no way to pay for the gas he had already pumped. Although he did not voice the question aloud, the question hung in the air, “What am I going to do?”
The next customer stepped up to the counter and handed his card to the cashier, saying as he did so, “Put his bill with mine.”
Or, as one student writes, “I was searching for a place to live and having a difficult time finding an affordable apartment. A friend and I had talked about living together, but the rent on her place was too high for my budget, so I had turned it down. A few days later, my friend approached me again. Her parents had offered to cover part of the rent so that we could live together. I did not expect to be the recipient of such generosity, and I was overwhelmed. All of a sudden, I had a place to live, manageable rent and a great roommate.”
In these stories, the individuals were in situations of need. We can imagine their surprise, relief and perhaps even shock at the unexpected generosity offered.
The next customer stepped up to the counter and handed his card to the cashier, saying as he did so, ‘Put his bill with mine.’
We all face situations in which we are the receiver. Accepting the gift of another’s generosity can be difficult to do joyfully. Sometimes it involves accepting our circumstances or limitations and acknowledging that the giver has a capacity that we ourselves may not have. But when we realize the giver is an agent of God in helping to meet our need of the moment, we find true joy in the gift.
For every giver, there must be a receiver. We ought to be like Paul, who was earnestly grateful for the generosity he received from the church at Corinth. At the same time, we should seek to emulate the Corinthian church by being generous to a fault.
There is tremendous joy in being able to benefit others and there is tremendous joy in being blessed by a gift. We ought to receive generosity from others with grace, thankfulness and humility. In addition, we must be joyfully and willingly generous with all that we have been entrusted.