Canadian Mennonite
Volume 13, No. 20
Oct. 19, 2009
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: Readers Write” (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.
A time to speak or a time to keep quiet?
Re: “Mennonite Anti-Zionism?”, Sept. 21, page 2, and “Justice at the expense of peace?”, July 27, page 22.
Dick Benner felt surprised and blindsided by Zexter Van Zile’s criticism of Mennonite work in the Middle East, including our promotion of nonviolence and a one-state solution to the Arab-Israeli conflict. Mennonite responses to Benner in the Oct. 5 issue emphasized the pursuit of justice and peace, acknowledgement of the problem of the two-kingdom stance, and eye-to-eye communication.
I shared Benner’s reaction when Iranian-Canadians, one of my professors among them, challenged Mennonite dialogues with conservative Iranian clerics in the summer of 2007. Incidentally, Van Zile’s criticism extended to Mennonite dialogues with Iranian president Ahmadinejad in 2007 and 2008.
In light of our past dialogues, I wonder whether our present lapse into silence and traditional responses is serving peace, justice or the truth necessary for either in the case of Iran.
In May, we participated in a dialogue with Iranian clerics on the theme of peace and justice, including the contemporary context and the role of the state. In June, Iran’s allegedly fraudulent elections sparked the largest protests in the Islamic republic’s 30-year history. The authorities responded with arrests, torture and death.
Mennonite Central Committee responded to what it characterized as “intense debate and sporadic violence” with a call to prayer for peace and justice for the people of Iran, healing for the nations, and faithfulness in our own commitments. In the July 27 coverage of the May dialogue, there was no mention of the June events.
In September, for the first time since 2006, we did not participate in a dialogue with Ahmadinejad during the UN General Assembly in New York. MCC gave no explanation, but the Quakers offered that “Americans meddling in the post-election situation [would] not be helpful.”
Meanwhile, the people of Iran are pressing, still nonviolently, on human rights issues, and the international community is pressing, still diplomatically, on nuclear issues.
Ecclesiastes teaches that there is a time to keep silent and a time to speak. We may not always have the wisdom to know which is which. But if we speak, let us speak truth to power, and not let power silence truth. And if we keep silent, let us be clear for what reasons and in whose interests we are doing so. Otherwise, dialogue—or no dialogue—risks advancing neither kingdom, and peace and justice risk retreating into appeasement and justification.
Fire story criticized for being too Mennonite-minded
Re: “Kelowna Mennonites safe from fire,” Aug. 17, page 29.
While I believe the intent of the report to be genuine, albeit naïve, something about it is just plain wrong. To lead with “Raging wildfires in the Kelowna area of British Columbia this summer have been making national news” is an attention-grabbing ploy, while further reporting that “no members of First Mennonite Church of Kelowna have had to evacuate,” and “our congregation is not that badly affected,” is neither newsworthy nor necessary. It’s like saying that a hurricane went through New Orleans a few years ago killing hundreds, displacing thousands and resulting in billions of dollars in damage, but fortunately no Mennonites were affected. Or that long-weekend traffic accidents across the country caused several fatalities, luckily none of which were Mennonites. Or that severe, record-cold temperatures last winter on the Prairies were the direct cause of at least two deaths, but, thank God, neither of them were Mennonites.
My point? Sometimes it seems we’re just too much about “us,” playing the “Mennonite name game.” In my humble opinion at least, it’s this narrow-minded, even selfish attitude of some of us that is perhaps a major reason why our churches are so hard to penetrate.
Manitoba churches urged to consider future of Camp Assiniboia forest
As a Mennonite farm kid growing up near Austin, Man., I overheard many an enthusiastic conversation about “breaking up bush land, draining sloughs and eradicating pesky wildlife.” It was a world of “man vs. nature,” and the sooner nature got “tamed,” the better.
Come to think of it, Mennonites, the consummate farmers, have been taming the land ever since Menno: in the polder lands of Holland, in the Vistula Delta in Poland, on the semi-arid Steppes of Russia, in the Paraguayan Chaco, and right here in the tall grass prairie of Manitoba.
But over the decades, as wild spaces everywhere become scarce, and as we observe some less-than-desirable side effects of our conquest, many in our commu-nity, both younger and older, are calling certain aspects of our “having dominion” into question. They assign a much higher value to the preservation of remaining natural areas, both for its own sake and for its faith testimony. Their reading of God’s commission to Adam has much more of a caregiver/steward ring to it.
So a resolution from the 2007 Mennonite Church Manitoba delegate session triggers a whole spectrum of perspectives about the “value” of the relatively unspoiled 36-hectare forest at Camp Assiniboia, located a mere 20 kilometres west of Winnipeg.
The task force appointed to follow up on the resolution will soon be tabling its recommendations for the care and management of this unique old-forest/riverside environment. An information package is being distributed to each MC Manitoba congregation this fall. It is hoped that good discussion within each congregation can inform the delegates who will process these recommendations at the November and February sessions.
Bullying pamphlet available from Mennonite Publishing Network
Thanks to Elsie Rempel for her “Fight back against schoolyard bullying” article in the Sept. 21 issue, page 4.
Further to it, readers should be aware of a pastoral care pamphlet for which Rempel was a consultant. “Dealing with Bullying” is part of the Mennonite Publishing Network’s “Close to Home” series on hard-to-talk-about issues like abuse, mental health, and addictions. More information and free study guides are available at www.mpn.net/closetohome.
Colonialism, wealth disempower non-Germanic-Swiss Mennonites
Re: “What about the non-German Mennonites?” Aug. 17, page 16.
In a similar line of thinking as Scott Bergen, I have realized that the way some Mennonite historians approach their history is very much like those who write about Christian history. Authors such as Scott Latourette and Williston Walker write from the perspective of white Christianity, emphasizing the Protestant view while not taking into account the view of Christianity that comes from the margins (the real Christianity, the one that Jesus lived out).
Mennonites, unfortunately, have acquired power the same way others have done in the past, due to colonialism and their wealth. Germanic-Swiss Mennonites have become powerful and wealthy, and have used these things to disempower others.
And this is just the tip of the iceberg. Whether they like it or not, ethnicity has played a big role in how they live their faith. This is why we see Mennonite institutions only made up of people with Germanic-Swiss Mennonite names; at the same time, they become over-protectionist when looking at how they hire people to run these institutions.
I am glad someone has been courageous enough to point out this issue.
But for many Mennonites, this is a non-issue. “We are ethnic Mennonites, where religion and tradition meet,” some would say. Yes, it is true, but for many “tradition” takes precedence over faith.
While studying at Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary, I approached a retired professor who wrote a book on the history of Mennonites. I asked him why there was not more information about Spanish-speaking Mennonites from Latin America. He actually apologized and said that he knew that the one page he gave to the subject was not enough. But his book is still used in Mennonite colleges and universities in Canada and the United States.
A second experience happened while working at Canadian Mennonite University. I realized that there was one class called “Mennonites in Latin America,” which I was very excited about because I thought that finally someone was going to teach the hidden history of Mennonites in Latin America, of those who spoke Spanish, Guarani and other languages. However, I was very disappointed when I looked at the syllabus and realized that there was nothing about Mennonites of “my kind.” The professor was using these same two books that Bergen mentioned in his article.
I have had to explain to many people that Mennonites in Colombia are not from a Germanic background, that we are a mission church committed to the Anabaptist teachings on peace and justice, and that they are lived out every day, simply as part of life.
I ask myself: Why is it difficult for Mennonites in Canada to empower minority groups?
Relationship with Jesus—not service projects—the core of Christianity
As I read Lisa Carr-Pries’ “Laying the Foundation” article, Sept. 7, page 10, living waters began stirring within me.
The emphasis in her discourse was Mennonite, Mennonite, Mennonite. Mennonite Christian education is important to her, but there is more to Christianity than service projects, travelling choirs, sports teams, and local and international trips. Mennonite education is limiting when it comes to the deep things of Christianity.
The foundation of our faith is not, and must not be, Mennonitism. It must be Jesus. The stories of Jesus provide great Sunday school material, but we are not being told that we must have a relationship with him. We must first have sufficient intellectual light on Christ’s redemptive work and then confess him as Lord (Romans 10:10). Jesus said in John 17:3: “And this is eternal life, that they know thee, the only true God, and Jesus the Christ whom thou has sent.”
The next step is receiving the Holy Spirit. There are three facts about God:
• God for us;
• God with us; and
• God in us, the divine indwelling of the Holy Spirit.
In the baptism with water, we surrender our sins; in the baptism of the Spirit, we surrender ourselves. In the new birth, we have the Holy Spirit; in the fullness, the Holy Spirit has us.
The greatest thing that any of us can do is not to live for Christ, but to live Christ. We cannot do that without the Holy Spirit. That is what we must teach our children. “Let the children come to me,” Jesus said.
Who do we really worship?
Re: The Sept. 7 back page photograph of North American aboriginal Mennonites “raising their hands in prayer to the eastern sun,” I would like to know if we have become sun worshippers.
Native Ministry leaders respond to worship question
We are very concerned that the caption to the Sept. 7 back page photograph that Anne Ewert questioned gives a very wrong impression of what was happening when the picture was taken. While the prayer of thanks being used at the time acknowledges the gifts and people groups from the far corners of the world, the prayer is totally being made to God and Jesus Christ alone. At one point in the prayer we raised our hands to the heavens to recognize God’s gifts to us, and that is when the picture was taken.
Call to prayer and action for Honduras
Given the political turmoil in Honduras, the Latin America and the Caribbean program department of Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) urgently asks that people everywhere pray for true justice and peace for the Honduran people, and call on their own governments to pressure Honduran authorities to act in ways that will bring peace.
We are concerned about the June 28 military-led coup that deposed president Jose Manuel Zelaya on June 28 and the subsequent actions of both the de facto government headed by Roberto Micheletti and the ousted president. These actions have polarized the people of Honduras and deepened social conflict.
As the Iglesia Evangélica Menonita Hondureña (Honduran Evangelical Mennonite Church) said in a July 3 public statement, “What remains after the events of June 28 is a divided and polarized Honduran society, living in a climate of uncertainty, insecurity and violence.”
We echo the call of our partners and the church in Honduras for dialogue and reconciliation among political leaders and within Honduran society.
We denounce the violations to human dignity by the de facto Micheletti government, including mass detentions, suspension of constitutional rights, and violent repression of opposition.
We recognize that the reinstatement of Zelaya to the presidency is not a sufficient response to the growing polarization of Honduran society, nor will it respond to the urgent needs of the majority of the population, which lives in poverty. We ask the international community to recognize the long-term response needed to bring sustainable justice and human security to Honduras, one of the poorest countries in the Western Hemisphere.
We call you to:
• Pray for all Hondurans living within a frightening, unfolding reality; and
• Write to your government representative, asking for increased pressure on both sides of the political divide in Honduras to agree to the San Jose Accord, a proposal to end the country’s ongoing political crisis. Exhort your representative to pressure the Micheletti government to immediately end all human rights violations and political repression.
Caught between a warning and forgiveness
Re: Mennonite World Conference assembly coverage, Aug. 17.
I read Nzuzi Mukawa’s sermon, “Micah’s warning,” page 4, and Dick Benner’s article, “Forgiving the murderer,” page 11, back to back.
The emotional impact of the two was miles apart. Mukawa’s words were not comforting to those of us in the middle class and higher. The closing session with Helmut Isaak extending forgiveness to the Ayoreo people who murdered his brother decades ago was moving and heartwarming. I would have had tears in my eyes had I been a part of that. It must have been a truly “feel good” way to close the assembly.
But who needs to forgive whom for what? It feels much better to be the one who forgives; that is, the gracious one. And in that transaction I am sure we identified with Isaak, for we, after all, are not the Ayoreos. We were—and are—the carriers of the good news.
Isn’t there a burden of forgiveness on the part of the indigenous peoples, not only in the Chaco, but in North America, where many of us live on land that formerly was their home? How many murders were committed in that land-clearing?
Mukawa addressed us, not the Ayoreos. The injustices he listed are global, and therefore generate a feeling that we are less able to do anything, and by some sort of axiom are also less responsible. But who will forgive us? Who can speak the word of absolution?
Use stock photographs sparingly, please
I have so appreciated Canadian Mennonite’s use of photographs that arise out of the faith community, rather than dependence of stock photos. I understand that bullying is a difficult subject to document pictorially (“Is your school bully-free?” Sept. 7, front page and page 4), but I hope that such stock photos will be the exception.
Thank you for yet another good read.
From Our Leaders
Rediscovering God’s call
I am in the midst of planning for a sabbatical in 2010. In the middle of answering some questions on a funding application, God spoke to me about my heart condition.
As I began pastoral ministry 20-some years ago, I remember saying to the Lord, “I always want to minister out of flowing streams in my heart and not stagnant pools; I never want to go through the motions. I want to serve out of a deep sense of calling and a life-giving relationship with you, my Saviour.”
Much water goes under the bridge of a life in two decades. In it all God has shown the truth of Psalm 37:25, in which David says, “I was young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken.”
I know that I rejoice in that, yet in the midst of it I realize that my heart has been growing harder, my soul is parched and at times I come dangerously close to going through the motions of ministry.
I need to rediscover the ability to pull away and listen to God on a regular basis.
In the early years of ministry, everything seemed so simple. I preached, prayed, visited, cared for people and shared Jesus with those who did not know him. I was thrilled to be engaged in what I fully believed God had called me to and gifted me for.
Over the years, ministry has changed and so have the expectations. Most pastors I know are running an organization in addition to their more usual pastoral responsibilities. I manage, supervise, cast visions, strategize and plan. There is nothing wrong with these things, all of them are necessary.
But I need to rediscover the ability to pull away and listen to God on a regular basis. I cannot lead and minister the way God calls me to without a deep connection with my Heavenly Father. Neglecting this critical area causes a loss of perspective and results in my serving out of my own strength. I need to fulfill all my responsibilities out of a sense of call and after listening to the voice of God. All of my tasks must be viewed as opportunities to allow God to use me. I must allow the people that God has graciously placed around me in the church to hold up my arms in those areas where my joy and vitality are sapped, and allow them to experience the fulfillment of using their gifts in their areas of passion.
Ministry is too high a calling, the church too valuable, the stakes too costly, to not invest wholeheartedly in this wonderful privilege of pastoring. It is my prayer that the people who drink from my ministry and the people who drink from yours will enjoy the freshness of springs of water welling up from a spirit-filled servant of God. That is the kind of spiritual leadership God calls us to, and the kind of spiritual leadership that the church desperately needs.
New Order Voice
In defence of the institutional church
It is tempting these days to say, as many others are saying, “I am spiritual but not religious.” To join this increasingly fashionable group is to be open to spirituality in a broad sense, but to spurn “organized religion” and “the institutional church.” This sentiment is not uncommon in Mennonite circles.
Let’s face it, church can be hard to take. Many of us have, at times, felt frustrated, disappointed, infuriated, hurt or alienated by circumstances or events in our home congregations or in the broader church. What are we to do with these sentiments?
The temptation for some, including myself, is to gravitate towards a spiritual-but-not-religious stance. This might mean going for a hike or reading a good book instead of going to church on Sunday morning. It might mean yoga instead of small group meetings. It might mean simply drifting bitterly away from church without really replacing it with anything other than a vague spiritual longing.
But, ultimately, I believe the spiritual-but-not-religious path is something of a mirage. It looks good from a distance, when one is fed up with church, but ultimately the expectations it creates prove illusory.
[T]he act of going to church, aside from what actually happens there, is the most important spiritual discipline.
The problem is that this path tends towards an individualization of spirituality, with everyone just doing their own “unorganized” thing. Sure, some activities may be done with others, but the emphasis is on doing whatever is “right for you,” not on commitment to community. Of course, there are exceptions to these generalizations, but I think the generalizations stand.
As appealing as it may seem to follow one’s individualized path, I believe that spirituality is, by nature, a collective endeavour. Meaning and God are found collectively—where two or more are gathered. In some sense, individualized spirituality is not spirituality at all. Of course, there is a deeply personal dimension to spiritual quest and experience, but ultimately it must lead us not away from others but towards them. The complications and conflicts that arise from that coming together are an essential element of spiritual growth.
A spiritual advisor once told me that the act of going to church, aside from what actually happens there, is the most important spiritual discipline. I come back to this counsel often. I think about the value of choosing to spend time with people of various backgrounds, ages and viewpoints. In the intersection of our lives I believe I can find something that I cannot find alone. It’s nothing spectacular, just a (hopefully) humble sense of the wealth of diversity and fellowship. For me, this applies to Sunday morning as well as broader church involvements, including writing for this magazine.
Rather than spurning organized religion, I am trying—with occasional lapses—to embrace it. That is not to deny or downplay the frustrations, but to accept them as a humbling spiritual discipline. The words of Carlo Caretto, an Italian church worker who left all to live as a monk in the Sahara Desert, capture something of my effort to remain spiritual and religious:
“How baffling you are, o Church, and yet how I love you! . . . You have given me so much scandal and yet you have made me understand sanctity. I have seen nothing in the world more devoted to obscurity, more compromised, more false, and I have touched nothing more pure, more generous, more beautiful. . . . No, I cannot free myself from you, because I am you, although not completely. And where should I go?”
Out of the Box
Question. Period.
I sat in a century-old church building surrounded by grandmas. I had been invited by a denomination I really didn’t know well, to talk with a women’s group about the kingdom of God and how we live that out. I began by asking questions to understand the way these faithful saints perceived the life of the church these days. Their answers were questions themselves: Where are the young people? How do we compete with the busy work and recreation schedules of people? What can we do to make church effective and alive again?
I understand their quandary. Many churches in my own denomination, I assured them, would ask similar questions given the opportunity.
We trip and stutter our way towards answers to those queries. Try as we may, this search only leads to more questions and plenty of opinions, many of them polarizing. There were even some sparks in that room full of grandmas!
It’s not that the conversation was heated; desperation would more describe the mood. Hanging in the air was the hoped-for wish that something we could do would change things. That was quickly followed with the despair of trying to figure out what that happy pill would be. I began to see that I was supposed to have brought the prescription along. Yet the further into the answers we plunged, the deeper the pit became.
The question is . . . whether we produce people who look increasingly like Jesus.
Throughout the conversation a renewed insight came into view for me. It seems to me that we spend a lot of time asking the wrong question and then end up wasting time seeking answers that only leave us more confused, bewildered and befuddled. We become like a young child trying to undo a knot in his shoes by pulling in the wrong direction.
I am convinced that while many of us, legitimately and with right motives, seek to re-imagine the life of the church for a new day by asking the question, “What can the church do better?” we are actually posing a self-defeating question. Without fail, this leads to endless conversations, meetings and opinions that tend to go nowhere in the long run. The knot just becomes a frustration. Instead of discovering new freedom, we end up with schism and parties that resemble question period in the House of Commons. We’re all present for the same reason and purpose, but an outsider would surely begin to wonder what all the noise is about and how anything ever gets done.
Instead of the non-starter, “What can the church do better?” we need to begin with a truly kingdom of God shaped question: “What will bring glory to God?”
At least in my feeble mind, this question reshapes the discussion. It takes our eyes off ourselves and places it where it belongs: on our Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. The question is not, what can we do, but who is God? The question is not whether we can produce more people who think like us, but whether we produce people who look increasingly like Jesus.
The question is not whether people think our church is cool, effective, tolerant or relevant, but whether or not we bring God glory. What will make God great among us and through us? That is the question. Period. That is the question out of which re-imagination begins, biblical thirst re-emerges and new creations are made.