Canadian Mennonite
Volume 11, No. 18
September 17, 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.
‘Absolute claim’ letter full of ‘skewed rhetoric’
In his letter, “Natives have no ‘absolute claim’ to Canada,” July 30, page 19, Harold Jantz exhibits the same fuzzy logic and skewed rhetoric that have been used for centuries to disenfranchise Aboriginal Peoples.
He refers, for example, to “the hole in which they find themselves,” as if the plight of aboriginals was a matter of bad luck, rather than the result of systematic oppression of European colonialism. He asks, too, “How can a 1784 treaty bind us today?” as if the mere passage of time can invalidate a promise made in good faith.
He likewise disparages the quest of Aboriginal Peoples for rightful compensation by construing it as “simply waiting for payments that can support them.” And he attempts to turn a political and legal struggle into an amorphous metaphysical one by saying, “We sojourn here for a time and then pass from the scene,” as if Aboriginal Peoples ought to simply forget about the bigotry and economic disparity that they have endured, and should, instead, just sit back and contemplate the unfathomable wonder of existence.
Jantz is at least right in noting the need for “honest speech.” However, I think that what honestly needs to be said is that our European ancestors plundered aboriginal land and decimated aboriginal cultures in order to profit themselves, and that we—their descendents—continue to perpetuate that abomination so long as we do not redress it through rightful compensation.
Peace witness must be a centrepiece
Re: “Church sends peace tax letter,” May 14, page 16.
Wishing to send a “gentle” peace message to the Harper government about the escalation of military expenditures, national church leaders are proposing a military tax redirection for some benighted Christians, including benighted Mennonites. Such a proposal against a military build-up would be admirable if the church at least had a consistent humanitarian and peace message. But it doesn’t. In fact, the church has no idea what the search for and pursuit of peace is about.
In an example from my own province, about a year ago, Mennonite Church Manitoba church leaders were presented with an opportunity, nay responsibility, to convey to our government, the public, and other evangelical groups what a peace-witnessing Anabaptist Church strives to be about. They might even have demonstrated to the world that they actually care about humanity, including Muslim humanity.
They failed to do this last October when many Mennonites attended the Franklin Graham Festival in Winnipeg, “swelling the multitudes for Christ” but ignoring Graham’s lack of human and Christian integrity.
At the Mennonite Church Manitoba delegate sessions, the leadership thwarted any serious discussion of Graham’s theology—heaven forbid that his politics be on display or dissected. Several stalwart senior delegates made a gallant effort to make delegates aware of Graham’s apocalyptic war rhetoric and his expressed hatred for Islam, but that upset others, including the leadership, so the issue died on the floor.
The handful of Mennonites outside the festival handing out leaflets with a “Bless our enemies” message was a last minute, valiant but feeble, effort to refute Graham’s war-mongering form of Christianity (Nov. 13, 2006, page 18).
So instead of having a courageous valid voice of integrity, while standing in the shadow of Anabaptist martyrs, your readers are now informed that “Telling a ‘better’ story” is “where it’s at” (May 14, page 18). From this, I’m led to conclude that Mennonites have no respect for the gospel they espouse. They are a disgrace to the “grace” they purportedly have bet their souls on. This story is a telling example of what comes out of CMU as Christian witnessing.
Evangelist Joe Boot is quoted as saying that in order to do evangelism, Christians “have to tell a better story than everyone else.” So now, in 2007, our theological teaching boils down to a sales pitch! Franklin Graham would approve. I’ve become convinced that evangelism is the coward’s way of practising faith. It is in fact a cop-out from just being Christian.
Since 9/11, Christians are encouraged to demonize Islam and the Qur’an. Soon they will demonize everyone except themselves. But then, that is already well on the way—while the peace witness is tucked into a “miscellaneous” file to be hauled out when it is convenient. I guess I was naive; I thought the peace witness was, at least, one of the centrepieces of Anabaptist/Mennonite theology.
Lord’s Supper must regain baptismal connection
God meets us in varied and wonderful ways. It may be the viewing of a newborn child, the awesome grandeur of creation or an ancient cathedral, the peacefulness of an isolated lakeshore, or even the gratitude evoked by an undramatic communion service.
My recent review of New Testament references to the Lord’s Supper reveal the distance we have come from the original apostolic practice. The Lord’s Supper, like baptism, is primarily a communal experience, not merely a sign or symbol of some other event.
Throughout the New Testament, the Lord’s Supper has a very strong emphasis on loving relationships among the participants, unlike our current privatized expressions of it—meditating over a bit of pastry and a sip of juice. The biblical accounts are loaded with terms and metaphors that have significant practical implications. Concepts such as cup, blood of Christ, new covenant, body of Christ, breaking of bread and koinonia further express the mutually interdependent implications of the Lord’s Supper.
Paul combines these terms in referring to the unique relationships within the church and how this separates us from idolatry. In I Corinthians 10:16, he asks, “The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ?” Two chapters later, Paul expands on the interdependent nature of the body of Christ. The English words for koinonia—fellowship, participation, sharing and communion—are loaded with mutuality, something inherent within the meaning and function of Christ’s church.
In Mark 10:38, Jesus makes some significant associations with the new covenant and with discipleship: “Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?”
The Lord’s Supper, by biblical implication, can be viewed as a covenant-renewing event, the original covenant being that of our baptism. That adds to its communal significance.
It is only a modern Protestant phenomenon that has separated the Lord’s Supper from a prior baptismal commitment to Christ and his church. Practices that were meant to be mutual expressions of renewed devotion and covenant commitment became religious rites with magical and legalistic emphases. While these practices received significant emphases within the Schleitheim Confession of Faith, and by both 16th and 20th century Anabaptist theologians, the emphasis within our churches unfortunately became progressively less.
Writer needs to ‘puleeze’ clarify comment
Re: “Reader response to cost of ministry claim” letter, July 30, page 20.
Rudy Kehler of Hope, B.C., responded to the statement, “Ministry costs money. Good ministry costs more!” in the Mennonite Foundation column, “To pledge or not to pledge,” June 25, page 14, with “Oh puleeze!”
I don’t know how to interpret that. I sense sarcasm in what appears to be the intentional misspelling of the word “please.” But I’d be very interested in hearing more. Is Kehler saying, “This statement is obvious”? Is he saying, “Ministry does not cost money”? Is he saying, “Good ministry does not cost more than mediocre ministry”? Is he saying, “Let’s not talk about money and ministry in the same breath”? Is he complaining about the high cost of good ministry?
Each of these possibilities can be legitimately read into his response. And each of them, in turn, warrants a serious response.
Another lesson from the global church
In mid-July, delegates from 140 countries were met by host families at the Toronto airport for the World Assembly of International Fellowship of Evangelical Students. (See “Lessons from the global church,” Aug. 20, page 2). We were delighted to meet our guests amidst the mass.
We met Yama (a pseudonym) from Africa. She was bright, cheerful, committed to God, daring and visionary. She told of experiences in her country we could not fathom. Evangelical Christians in her country are under constant watch and no public meetings are permitted. Conversations among believers in groups of four to eight are with hushed voices. Her pastor is in prison. Obtaining a visa and borrowing money for this trip were all a huge miracle.
Her husband is a pastor. He visits, teaches and encourages his church constituency—always with a guarded ear and eye. Believers meet in small groups, but do not sing aloud nor make any posture of prayer.
Neighbours, including those from other churches, may report “subversive” activity by these who wish to live God’s love. Yama’s family was asked to leave their rented home because the landlord was suspicious of unusual number of visitors. With prayer—and waiting—they found an even better place (a gift from God). This family truly lives by faith, with no security of income or salary.
While in our home for less than a day, she inquired about foods, spices and pottery, and asked questions about Mennonites. She called her parents by telephone, using code language.
I wonder what her thoughts were about our freedom to freely speak of God, her visit to the Mennonite Visitors Centre in St. Jacobs, Ont., and being allowed to take pictures of an Old Order Mennonite meetinghouse? In our guest book, she gave thanks to God for the rest, and for God’s preparation of Lorraine and my hearts for her visit.
I ponder the encounter. Why am I materially privileged? Why and how have I lived my life without sensitivity to my brothers and sisters? The bigger question is: How will I now live my life as a confessing Christian?
Ad not relevant to readers
I was surprised to find in the August 20 issue a very large advertisement for Tremzac’s wood shaving machine (page 19). It was, by my accounts, the largest and most glitzy of your advertisements. What will be next? A full-page colour advertisement sharing the benefits of Viagra?
Unless the aim is to turn Canadian Mennonite into a money-making poster board, I would suggest keeping advertisements to those items relevant to the large majority of your readers.
MCC leader’s departure a wake-up call
I’m writing in response to the article on Robb Davis’s departure from MCC in the July 30 issue of Canadian Mennonite (“From high hopes to frustration,” page 33).
I had the opportunity to meet Robb at an MCC Eastern Canada retreat in May 2006 (my six year term with MCC ended in July 2006, and I continue to be a strong supporter of MCC and its aims).
I was impressed by Robb’s passion and by his willingness to live the kind of ‘on the edge’ leadership which I agree that MCC needs. In the article, Robb seems to take all the blame for his premature departure on himself, and says that a mature leader would have stuck it out.
Obviously, I don’t know all that went on in Akron, or within Robb’s heart. However, I can’t help feeling that Robb’s departure is a serious wake-up call to MCC and to all of us who support it as a wider church. It brings many questions to my mind:
Why should a leader who is nudging us to be a prophetic voice feel like he has to “stick it out”? Shouldn’t we be supporting that person in any way we can? Shouldn’t we be running a bit faster to keep pace with leaders ‘on the edge’ instead of dragging them back to trudge along at our slow, cautious pace?
Robb put me on to Hebrews 12 which speaks of running the race before us with perseverance, with our eyes fixed on Jesus. I believe that’s what Robb was challenging us to do. Mennonites and MCC are well placed to be a prophetic voice, so let’s not slacken our pace in that race. Jesus calls us to go out ‘on the edge’ with him.
I also have to ask myself: If his name was Wiebe, Dick or Bauman, would it have been easier for him to “stick it out”? I ask this question with the utmost respect for all who bear such grand old Mennonite names, several of whom I count among my dearest friends. We need to be constantly vigilant against our human tendency to let a strong sense of identity become a force of exclusion, even subconsciously.
Robb Davis’ departure from MCC presents all of us with a challenge to look at ourselves as a church and MCC as an organization. We need to ask these tough questions of ourselves and look earnestly together for the answers. We may be surprised by what we find.
From Our Leaders
Growing in leadership and faith
“Resource” is a word we hear a lot in Alberta. We talk about natural resources, of which we have many, and human resources, of which we never have enough.
I am in a privileged position to be working with one of the greatest and possibly most undervalued resources in our church conference: our youth.
When I talk to people about my job, I brag a lot. I work with some of the greatest coworkers around and they are mostly between the ages of 16 and 20. I am always thrilled to let people know how hard my coworkers work, how committed they are, and how much fun they are to work with.
For many of these youth, there is no real connection between camp and church.
When I interview my staff in the spring, I ask them “How has your Christian faith grown or changed in the past year?”. The typical response is ‘Well, I was on a real high after camp and then sort of coasted through the year and just looked forward to getting back to camp.’ For many of these youth, there is no real connection between camp and church. Camp is seen as a separate entity from church.
From the youth perspective it makes sense. At camp, our young adults are in charge. They have duties and responsibilities and they run the show. At Church, they are often bystanders, in the way, or at best involved in groups of their own.
So here is the challenge, how do we make our youth and young adults feel as welcome and integral in the church as they feel at camp, a church institution?
I challenge churches to involve youth, and not just as ushers! Invite them to serve on committees, involve them in worship, and ask their opinions. There are amazing gifts and talents in these young people and while they will need guidance and encouragement it is infinitely worth it to watch them grow into leaders and deepen in faith. After all, they are our greatest resource.
New Order Voice
One hundred mile grace
The system that puts food on our tables is headed for major change. Agricultural is energy intensive–in Manitoba, agriculture accounts for 30 percent of greenhouse gas emissions–so as fuel prices rise and the economics of climate change evolve, the contents of our fridges will change.
We Mennonites could play a significant role in a graceful transition to a new food system. The question is whether we’ll see that role as inconvenient and threatening, or as a spiritual opportunity.
Food is on my mind these days because my wife Jennifer and I are five days into the 100 Mile Diet. For 100 days, over 100 Manitobans will eat only food produced and processed within 100 miles of their kitchen tables. Most of us will make a few exceptions; in our case, salt and vinegar for pickling are the main ones.
What if each church commissioned two members to become their vegetable farming ministers?
There have been a couple lean meals thus far, but right now I’m happily digesting a couple tasty crepes (flour, eggs from friends, and milk)–one with apple slices (from my parents’ tree) and honey, and another with tomatoes and homemade pesto (from the veggie farm I work on part time).
The point of this gastro-ethical adventure is to consider the story of each item that enters our temples of the Holy Spirit–to be mindful of the environmental costs, labour practices and energy inputs associated with each item, and then to respond with care. In supermarket aisles, our attention is focussed on appearance, taste, and price. The stories of the items are almost impossible to obtain. This leaves many questions unanswered, questions of spiritual import. If the food we buy is the fruit of exploitation of agricultural labourers or God’s creation, surely that has significance for our spiritual health.
The shift to local food is a shift from anonymous food to trustworthy food. Right now, we have three 100-pound bags of dried beans in our kitchen (to be shared with other 100-milers). I know who grew these beans. I know their names and where they live. I can learn pretty much whatever I want to know about these beans from them (and, it turns out, a whole lot about NAFTA and Superstore as well). And I know the money we paid for them went directly to the farmer, and to strengthening the rural economy. I find it easier to say grace before a meal of beans like these.
Mennos are well positioned to experiment with a more wholesome food system. Church denominations are among few forums in society in which urban and rural folk connect. Our MCC-rooted, more-with-less tradition of caring about food and the world also puts us on good footing. So what if each church commissioned two members to become their vegetable farming ministers? After receiving appropriate training, they could obtain land and supplies via church networks and congregational financing, and then be guaranteed a market. Or what about urban churches connecting with rural churches in order to gain direct access to meat, eggs and grains? What about non-farm Mennos providing financial safe-guards and markets for farm Mennos willing to take the risk of farming in less fuel- and chemical-intensive ways? I’m wary of using religious networks for marketing purposes, but I do believe in communities of faith sharing the gifts of God’s earth amongst each other.
The responsibility for making the food system more caring and loving lies as much with non-farm consumers as with the sometimes-maligned conventional farmers. We all need to work together graciously for a system that is healthier for body, earth, spirit, and community.
Outside the Box
Menno Idol
Are we Mennonite or Christian? There are moments when I wonder if the non-Menno world—and yes, Virginia, there really is a non-Menno world—see Christ when they see us.
Don’t choke on your borscht just yet, I have nothing against Menno Simons—he was a courageous godly guy with a really cool beard if the pictures are to be believed. Neither do I despise the solid heritage that is mine through martyrdom, immigration, faithfulness and three butter-laden meals a day. For this I am thank-full. I still believe the Anabaptist movement of the sixteenth century grasped what is transforming and Spirit-filled about life. I’m just not so sure we—especially we of European-ancestry—remotely grasp what they did. Let’s be honest, it’s been a long time since we comfy cultural Mennos faced any real suffering for our abandonment to Christ.
Menno was enraptured by an evangelical faith that could not lie dormant.
Menno was enraptured by an evangelical faith that could not lie dormant; it called him to yield all to Jesus and let the chips fall where they may as life is rewritten as a second book of Acts. We seem, five centuries later, happily captivated by our ethnic religious genius. We’ve hung our reputation on a name and it’s not Jesus—we are Menno unplugged.
Mennonites, apart from the Good News passed on to us and not discovered by us, are as lost and confused on this planet as any other people. Apart from the fruit of repentance we can say “Lord, Lord” all we want and it won’t make one iota difference. The Sermon on the Mount—have you read it and wept lately?—is now softened by a nicer, palpable and more politically correct social religion that laughs at original sin and shies away from saying “There is a Way, let us walk in it.” The cost of discipleship these days is Wal-Mart cheap and Jesus-light.
“Who do people say the Son of Man is?” Jesus asked his disciples. Everyone had an opinion, but he was looking for an answer beyond human reason. He pressed in close, “But who do you say I am?” to see if his closest friends saw only with ethnic eyes. “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Only God settles this heavenly reality in any earthly heart, causing life to readjust dramatically. This conviction moved born and bred Jews to set aside their peculiarity for the sake of Gentiles and a Dutch priest to abandon his pension for life on the run. This conviction brings a sword to human identification, demanding that we bear his name alone and not share his glory with another. Jesus is not defined by Mennonites; he must define, and perhaps redefine, us. “Peace, peace” we cry, while increasingly holding to the outrageous idea that utopia will suddenly dawn apart from lives bowed at the foot of Christ’s cross. His broken body, not our protests, is the only hope for peace. When did we stop believing this?
We have turned Menno into an idol, Jesus into an available option on our proudly humble ethnicity, and we risk no longer being his Church built upon the rock. We risk becoming nothing more than an adjective for furniture, crafts, baking and the simple life—the pathetic polar opposite of Martha Stewart and Paris Hilton. This Menno idol must fall. We must decrease in spades; Jesus must increase. This hypnotic gaze upon ourselves must be redirected if we really are Christian, and if there remains any true evangelical faith among us.
Viewpoint
Toward a reverential use of God’s name
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When my young son glimpsed the gargantuan strawberry, an involuntary “O my God” burst from his lips. In the following stunned silence, we read shock in each other’s eyes and waited long seconds for words to come.
“Where do you hear that kind of language?” I asked.
“At school” was the immediate reply. “All the kids say it. It’s just an expression.”
The incident led to an amazing discussion about the power of names, and who we are as witnesses to our Lord.
In the last few decades, society has used the phrase “O my God” as an audible exclamation mark. While it used to be mainly in the domain of private adult usage, the phrase is now firmly entrenched in the public sphere, heard regularly in prime time media, and is shouted across playgrounds by elementary school children.
In secular usage, the name of God has become meaningless, a simple matter of convenient punctuation. In the church, however, this cannot be the case. Christians pray, do works of charity, and spread the good news of Christ in God’s name. The name of God is power. For Christians, it expresses the meaning of life and should never be reduced to a thoughtless expletive.
So how do Christians claim back a reverential use of our Lord’s name in the midst of a culture that assumes it is meaningless?
Elsie Rempel, director of Christian Education and Nurture for Mennonite Church Canada, says; “Spoken language needs words and tones of exclamation, much like written language needs exclamation marks for expressing our passion, enthusiasm, or shock…. Channelling that need for expression into words that are appropriate—and that really express what we mean—is healthier for children than learning to stifle the inappropriate, or ‘swear’ word that comes so easily to lips that haven’t practised an alternative. Experimenting with and picking harmless sounds that serve our need for expression is one good approach.”
In a society working toward cultural and religious tolerance, respectful use of language plays an important role.
A Christian teaching in Edmonton’s public school system for 25 years, Jan Wilhelm makes use of the concept of respect. When she hears children saying “O my God,” she replies with something like, “No, we don’t say it that way in the class because some people believe in God and think that’s a swear, and that’s not the right way to talk.” She then gives them some alternatives and moves on.
Wilhelm notices that children will sometimes courageously hold each other to account regarding their use of language, and she sees a good example for adults in this. “I was personally in a situation last weekend where someone was saying it quite emphatically and quite often, and I didn’t say anything,” she says. “As adults, especially in social situations, we’re uncomfortable, but we don’t always know how to respond”.
At Menno Simons Christian School in Calgary, principal Joanne Wiens asked staff if they notice inappropriate uses of God’s name among their students. “We really do not see this as a large issue at our school,” she says. Occasionally, when a student uses God’s name inappropriately, other students and the teachers gently hold them accountable.
In our post-strawberry discussion, I asked my son how he would feel if people shouted his name whenever they were surprised, angry or shocked about something. He didn’t like the idea, as it would be confusing, disrespectful and annoying. We agreed that God might feel the same way.
For us, ‘O my God” is a phrase we will use reverently when we speak to or about the Lord we love. Our talk was an incredible awareness-building experience for both of us. Perhaps there are more of these conversations waiting in our communities if we are courageous enough to voice our reverence for the name of God.