Communion Will Never be the Same

It’s a big year for Lutherans – the 500th anniversary of the Reformation. So it struck me as significant that I was invited to participate in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada’s National Convention in July. I was privileged to present a sermon, and honoured to serve communion alongside a Synod Bishop.

At the 450th anniversary of the Lutheran’s Augsburg Confession of Faith in 1980, the Lutheran World Federation – representing 95% of Lutherans globally – invited Mennonites to join their celebration. Mennonites responded that it was difficult to celebrate a confession that condemned us for our views on theological matters such as infant baptism, even though the centuries-old memory of Anabaptist persecution had faded. But that invitation led to a 30 year reconciliation process, culminating in 2010.

As I stood before a full sanctuary of Evangelical Lutheran believers, the weight of responsibility descended upon my shoulders. I felt the eyes of a great “cloud of witnesses” observing. There I was; an Anabaptist leader about to help serve the Lord’s supper to Lutheran worshippers; those with whom we were in such harsh disagreement with centuries earlier.

Reconciliation is not an easy task. Though we'd all like to think that it's as simple as "let's kiss and make up," true reconciliation is a lengthy process. It involves truth telling. It includes admissions and confessions. It requires the non-defensive discipline of acceptance. Telling the truth can feel freeing to the one speaking. Hearing the truth can weigh on the one listening. But there is no reconciliation without this exchange.

For nearly 500 years, Anabaptists have borne martyrdom from a variety of persecutors. We have felt the weight of living out our beliefs. We have wrestled with the guilt of living safely and in peace while others risk their lives and take up arms. I wish I could say that in nearly 500 years we have learned how to express conviction without feeling like enemies to others, but long-standing patterns are difficult to break.

In this single act of reconciliation, of inviting me, an Anabaptist, to serve communion, Lutherans accepted our divergent understandings as an equal expression of love for God. Being invited to offer communion was not a statement of agreement. It did not mean that we are all of one mind. But it did acknowledge that we serve one God. We come to the same source of mercy and forgiveness. We go to the same place for redemption and restoration.

This provides Anabaptists with a huge challenge. Can we accept disagreeing viewpoints as equal expressions of love for God? I fear that we have not even been able to do so among ourselves.

"This is the blood of Christ shed for you." These are not words of entitlement. These are words of recognition. They acknowledge a fact – whether we like it or not; whether we agree with it or not.

In offering Eucharist to the Lutheran family, the feeling of being surrounded by a huge cloud of Anabaptist witnesses affected me more profoundly than serving communion has ever done before. 

CBC Drama "Pure": Gift or irritant?

I watched the first episode of CBC's new mini series entitled "Pure."

Understandably the various expressions of Anabaptist/Mennonite faith will feel misrepresented. The depiction lumps them all together like a typical potluck plateful of various foods.

As anticipated there is discomfort when particular shortcomings of the 'quiet in the land' is given national profile. We like to be known for our humble service not our humiliating deviations.

The spotlight is not a comfortable place for Mennonites. But it feels better resisting praise than it does refusing blame.

I don't know of any Mennonite who would feel comfortable being called "pure". But neither do we like faults being publicly flaunted.

However, this time of discomfort might offer a gift of self reflection. I think our discomfort mirrors a common Protestant aversion to facing shortcomings. To acknowledge the need of a Saviour is not problematic. But to describe the areas of personal struggle is.  When the confessional booth was discarded, our admission of sin was driven into private, unnamed remorse. Forgiveness then has also become a private struggle of acceptance.

We feel most comfortable looking like we have it all together and avoid portraying our frayed and frazzled selves.

I wonder how our God of grace views either the hesitation of admitting guilt or the fixation of holding onto guilt. Grace has never been an easy thing to accept.

The attention could provide the watching world with a refreshing display of self comfort. A faith community that is confident in Gods grace is able to smile at its own short comings. A faith community rich in experiencing grace is able to more easily extend grace to members of its own extended family without a nervous need to distinguish itself from bad behaviour. Such a comfort with who we are could be a refreshing contrast to the marketing culture dependent on having individuals feel bad about themselves.

This might be a gift to us as Mennonite communities. And we have the next few weeks to accept and use this gift wisely.

“Does that make sense?”

- guest post by Jonas Cornelsen

As a first-year student, it’s scary to speak up in class. This problem affects both students and professors. I took intro theology in my first year at CMU.

One day, the professor must have realized he’d been talking for over half an hour straight. He finished his point, took a step back from the lectern and asked, “Does that make sense?” Clearly not—the room was full of vacant stares. But class was over, there was no time to explain, and by then nobody remembered exactly what didn’t make sense. We were frustrated. I’m sure he was too.

For this post, Willard asked me to reflect on trust between Mennonite Church Canada leaders and constituents. I think of it in terms of clear, frequent, two-way communication. Misunderstandings hurt both sides. Between the publication of the Future Directions Task Force Final Report (FDTF) and Addendum last December, and the 2016 Assembly in Saskatoon seven months later, many expressed frustration that we, as congregations and individuals, hadn’t been fully informed or consulted about these big changes. I was one of them. But some hadn’t read the Task Force’s interim documents, or given feedback when previously asked. I was one of those too.

I’m not saying the Task Force’s interim communication was perfect. Like my prof’s lecture, it may have been complex, or difficult to follow for non-experts. I suspect this could have been fixed in both cases if something had been said. I recall one Task Force member saying they were pleased with the level of response the Final Report generated; they only wished it had been there all along.

It’s remarkable how similar the frustrations are on both sides. We want better communication from our leaders. They want the same from us.

It takes courage to speak up. We often think everyone around us gets it and our best bet is to catch up, or give up, in silence. My theology class, and the confusion after the FDTF report, suggest differently. If you’re lost, say something. Soon. It’s better to interrupt the lecture than to barely recognize the final exam.

MC Canada has called a special assembly for October, 2017, to vote on the new structure for our national church. This is sooner than I expected, but there’s still time to get into the conversation. Check out the Interim Council's transition site, or page through the Canadian Mennonite when it arrives. Emerging Voices Initiative (which I’m part of) was privileged to host a series of workshops this fall, where young and old have discussed our church’s future together. Events continue in Manitoba and Alberta this January.

We, as constituents, have a right to expect clarity from our leaders, and a plan for the future that reflects the best possible balance of our hopes. We need not wait until voting time to exercise that right. We’re more likely to be satisfied if we ask questions sooner, and show we’re listening.

Does that make sense?

The Unintended Message of Worry

Every term of leadership contains challenges. The church is always in a period of discernment - as it should be. Context is always changing. New questions of discernment constantly emerge.

This is why I think one of the greatest gifts a leader can provide is a display of non-anxious presence. A non-anxious presence is rooted in confidence that God will provide what the church needs to faithfully discern and make the necessary changes.

I was reminded of this at a workshop hosted by Emerging Voices Initiative (EVI). This young adult initiative began in November 2015, when Mennonite Church Canada faced a substantial donation revenue shortfall and was forced to reduce staff and program. Their concern for the church resulted in considerable conversation and a commitment to engage in the work of the Future Directions Task Force. Their enthusiastic participation in the issues facing the church is heartening for me as it is for many people.

One of the questions the EVI leaders are asking workshop attendees is: "What do you want to say to the leaders of Mennonite Church Canada?"

This is the gift being offered. For leaders interested in the thoughts of others it is a precious gift whenever people express themselves.

One of the first responses to this question has reinforced my determination to resist fear and panic in these changing times. The young adult voice walked up to the microphone and after glancing in my direction said, "the church will be okay.”

Indeed! What a message for leadership to hear: The church will be okay. It is both a message of hope and chastisement.

What message do we communicate to our youth and young adults when we express panic and fear about the state of the church? The underlying statement of fear and panic is that we do not trust our youth and young adults to carry on the faith.

Confidence in our youth and young adults would echo the statement offered at the EVI workshop. The church will be okay, because God is at work in our youth. The church will be okay because our youth and young adults are dreaming dreams and seeing visions. God is at work, even if as leaders, we don't always perceive it.

A confidence in God expects the Spirit of God to be at work beyond our comprehension. A confidence in God anticipates that our youth and young adults will see things we do not see.

The church of the future is the church informed by the past but embracing the developing expression of the leaders forming in our midst.

I am confident that our faith is finding new expression.

Open yourself up to possibilities not seen before: possibilities articulated and envisioned by our youth and young adults.

Upcoming EVI Workshops and locations in Nov./Dec.

The Covenant of Disagreement

In the past, the Church could hardly imagine placing 'covenant' and 'disagreement' into a shared concept. Disagreement represented the opposite of covenant. Covenant necessitated agreement.

But no longer. It is now possible to discuss covenant in the context of disagreement.

Followers of Jesus Christ are beginning to realize that covenant speaks more to relationship than it does to theological agreement. Jesus made it clear that covenant people commit to "turning the other cheek" and "praying for" those considered enemies.

This is no easy task! Indeed an endeavour quite impossible if not empowered by the spirit of Jesus Christ.

It is only reasonable then for followers of Jesus Christ to extend that same grace to fellow members of the body of Christ. If covenant people are instructed to love their enemies, how much more their brothers and sisters with whom they disagree?

In a recent trip to Israel/Palestine an ecumenical organization challenged a group of denominational leaders that unless we are able to speak as a unified voice of diversity, we have no platform to offer anything to the situation in the Middle East. I agree.

A reshaped understanding of covenant is an important challenge to a world becoming increasingly fragmented by ideological, theological, and ethnic conflict. Followers of Jesus Christ must stand ready to embrace disagreement within the covenant of loving your neighbour as yourself. This is not a poetic ideal. It is a covenant responsibility.

The global community has considered it important to remember the devastation of war. Divided church bodies realize destructive outcomes of internal conflict. Loss of life, destruction of families, relationships broken by harsh words are the lamented impacts results of armed violent conflict. Such lament should be expressed. But so should a commitment to peace that displays a new comfort with disagreement. Disagreement is an opportunity for conversation, not a reason for conflict. The Christian faith must learn to embrace disagreement if it hopes to be relevant in a diverse world.

I think God has provided an opportunity for the church of Jesus Christ to shine. This is a chance to display a renewed commitment of love and respect for all people of diverse understandings. It is an opportunity to boldly model how to remain in disagreement without resorting to hateful and hurtful rhetoric. It is an opportunity to portray the compelling love of Jesus Christ.

I pray that we will rise up to this opportunity. I pray that followers of Jesus Christ everywhere will commit themselves to represent the covenant of disagreement.

Retaining the Ability to Break

Our vision of leadership seems most informed by the common urge to win. A good leader is defined as someone who leads to victory and growth. However to limit ourselves to this as the only description of good leadership might be to misunderstand our very character as followers of Jesus Christ. 

The church is God's representation of the sacrificial love displayed in Christ. It is correct to declare the redemptive power of Jesus. Lives can be transformed. But could it be that the transforming power of Jesus is best revealed from a place of brokenness? 

The biblical account of God’s redemptive strategy seems to suggest this. The incarnation initiated the redemptive strategy from a place of vulnerability rather than strength: an infant. The pronouncement is to the politically weak rather to those of influence: shepherds. The birth is in a stable rather than a palace. 

Jesus is raised in Nazareth rather than Jerusalem. His following is secured with common folk fisherman rather than the religious establishment. The triumphant entry is on the back of a common donkey. And as we know the defining moment of secured victory is the cross: death and suffering. 

There is a lesson here in leadership that we must not ignore. For Jesus, death is the new beginning; failure is the victory. 

Yet as followers of Jesus Christ we resist weakness. We despise failure. 

Even in our history the church is strongest when it is weak. The church seems to grow strongest when driven into hiding by persecution. This has been evidenced in many examples: China, Ethiopia, to name just two. 

I don't think that God rejects strength. But I do think the most effective way to relate to a broken world is from a place of brokenness. It is where we most clearly display the passionate and radical love of God. 

Maybe the church is strongest when it is weak because that is when it is easiest for us to break and take on the brokenness of our Saviour. As Mennonite Anabaptists we recognize that the church is the broken body of Christ for the world. As followers of Jesus Christ, we can be comfortable with embracing vulnerability and brokenness. We are most effective when we feel the weakest. 

May we never lose the ability to break so that we never fail to portray the transforming love of our Sacrificial Lord.

A Confession...

I have a confession to make.

I have been raised in a faith community that emphasizes expressions of compassion. I am proud of this heritage. I have been formed by an understanding of Christian discipleship that prioritizes striving for peace and justice. I am deeply thankful for this modelling.

So when I learned of the horrendous massacre of gay patrons at an Orlando night club, I did what I thought was only natural. I expressed mourning. I named the pain I felt for the family and friends of victims thrust into brutal grieving

.

I thought such discriminatory violence must be mourned. I thought that lament must be confessed. I expected many others to be quick with expressions of solidarity.

But I found an uneasiness growing within me. I felt an urge to calculate my expressions of sorrow. As though expressing support for the suffering LGBTQ community might be suspect. To feel pain for those in sorrow should be an expected reaction - especially for the People of God. But I felt it necessary to waver. I found unholy questions invade my mind: How might this be misunderstood?

  

I do not want the debate of morality to stifle responses of compassion. I do not want ongoing theological discernment to create a fear in expressing sorrow. 

It is natural to weep with those who weep. It is normal to mourn with those who mourn. It should be a basic human tendency to moan and wail against injustice - especially for the People of God.

When faced with deep, intense sorrow for fellow humans there is no place for fear of being politically incorrect. It is not God who asks us to waver or reconsider.

I am shamed by my own misunderstanding of righteousness. I am humbled by my misdirected yearning "to keep the peace." I confess the desire to temper responses of compassion in favour of my desire to keep the peace. It is a sad commentary on ungodly influences on our expression of faith.

Compassion is a basic human response to suffering. To ask people to deny this basic impulse of humanity because of a need to be politically neutral is to ask people to deny the very image of God.

Massacre in Orlando

I am deeply distressed about the massacre of fellow humans in Orlando, Florida on June 12. The fact that the lives of innocent people were gunned down simply for being gay is horrifying.

I find myself in deep mourning.

I mourn the loss of life. I mourn the bitter grieving that families and friends have been thrust into.

I mourn that hatred could so control an individual.

I mourn a society that can foster such discrimination.

All of Canadian society should be weeping.  It is a sad event for the human family. 

But I also find myself weeping for my own people in particular - my family of faith.

I mourn the hateful discrimination of the LGBTQ community in our own families’ experience – and how this massacre reminds them of this.

I mourn the increased terror some of our youth will experience – already too terrified to acknowledge their sexual orientation. 

I mourn the way God will be misrepresented. No one should feel placed outside of God’s mercy and passionate love.

I don't want fear and misunderstanding to begin with feelings of hostility. God is not honoured in violence. Righteousness is not portrayed through violence.

I pray for something different. I pray that my family of faith will be something different. This is my hope.

But today I am in mourning.

There is reason to weep whenever hatred is given expression.

Not a Fragile Faith

In a recent bible study we were looking at John 20 where Jesus appeared to the disciples. Gathered behind locked doors Jesus appeared in the midst of them and said "Peace be with you". Then he did an amazing thing. He breathed on them and they received the Holy Spirit.

This is a significant development. It was a graduation. They would now carry on the faith - not by receiving more teaching by Jesus but by listening to the Holy Spirit. It was an empowering. It was an unleashing of the law written in their hearts.

It would be easier if Jesus had stayed around. But now, in the safety of community, followers of Jesus listen for the Holy Spirit to draw out the law written on their hearts. Faith was not left fragile. Rather it was entrusted to the power of the Holy Spirit.

This biblical account has made me wonder about the character of our faith.

A fragile faith must be defended. It must be protected. But a confident faith is free to face uncertainty. It is able to navigate through complexity.

A vulnerable faith must be propped up by constructs that refute uncertainty. But then it is a faith imprisoned by unquestioning conviction.

But faith unquestioned is a flimsy faith. It is a faith ready to be shaken by the first real disappointment of life. It is a faith that avoids death rather than a faith that embraces the promise of resurrection.

A faith fearful of death remains locked in a present that was constructed by the past. An uncertain faith produces confidence by entrenching itself in what is known; or in what is thought to be known.

Our faith is not a fragile faith. Born in persecution, it rooted itself in the confidence of resurrection. It was a faith that in death sang harmonies with the unseen future.

Our faith is not bound by past constructs. While aligned to the timeless truths revealed by Jesus, it is freed by the Holy Spirit to emerge in new and constant relevancy.

A robust faith does not need to know the future, only that the God we worship holds the future. An unshakable faith is reconciled to uncertainty, knowing that the only definite is the grace of God's transforming and redeeming power.

This is the faith we hold. This is the faith we profess: an assurance in the gift of the Holy Spirit to guide us in faithfulness and confidence. Now is the time to let our faith shine.

Responding to terror: Belgium, Ankara, Nigeria...

This March alone, there have been attacks in eight countries. Brussels is the one currently getting major media attention.

I don't like hatred. It erodes my sense of well being. It robs me of joy. It ridicules peace.

If left unattended, hatred develops enemies. It intentionally misinforms until fellow humans are mutated into monsters. It stigmatizes others and portrays stereotypes as truth.

A community governed by hatred will be a place where no one feels safe. It will be a place where laughter is silenced. I don't want to live in such a place. Yet such places are silently being developed.

Subtle reactions to events like the bombings in Brussels build and accumulate. Safety feels threatened and hatred begins to nest. Anger and revenge is directed at strangers. Soon fear is used as political platforms; hatred is nurtured. Discrimination is justified as protection; hatred is given flight.

I yearn for a world where one's own life and the lives of others are treasured. I long for communities governed by love and empathy, where safety is maintained by a commitment of well being for all.

To ensure such communities, each person must work to cut off that which gives birth to hatred. Violence of any sort must be discouraged, whether that is in schoolyard play or sports arena competition. Stereotypes must be questioned by truth. Friendships must be developed with strangers. And respect for one another must accompany disagreement.

Such communities are possible. Such communities are needed in a world giving into the forces of hate.

May we all determine to feed tolerance and understanding. May we be committed to developing new friendships and destroying old feuds and misunderstandings.

This is the place we all want to live. This is the place we should all strive to create.

New Leadership

Whenever a young person initiates conversation I take note.

It is noteworthy for two reasons. First, connecting with young adults interested in church is not all that common. Second, finding young adults not intimated by position or status is significant.

In these situations, I always feel I am in conversation with either an existing leader or a potential leader. I want to understand as best as I can what is being articulated, how it is being articulated, and what it tells me about how young leaders think.

One of those experiences happened recently. As I left an event looking at the impact of human activity on our environment, a young voice behind me asked, "Were you at Mennonite World Conference this summer?" I swung around and faced a smiling young adult. "Yes," I said. "You must've been there too."

We chatted about the experience. We shared stories. We agreed the thrill of meeting Mennonite/Anabaptists from around the globe was inspiring. "I was baptized earlier in the spring, so thought I should go to World Conference," explained the young adult.

It was an interesting alignment – one I would not have immediately expected. For this young leader, baptism was clearly a family event; it was a public entry into the family of faith. And to learn the extent of this new family was truly inspiring.

Meeting new leaders always reminds me that the Spirit of God is very active. The tendency can be to look for those who are like what you see in the mirror. But that would be a pretty limiting expectation of God. Perhaps the better place to locate new leadership is to look at the places that appear the least like present leadership.

I am confident that the church is in good hands, even if those hands do not yet recognize that they are holding it. God's Spirit is at work. Hearts are being stirred. Imaginations are unfolding. Yearnings are being strengthened.

I pray that new leaders will be met with all that is needed to give their dreams and visions wings.

Periods of Dramatic Change

Change is always occurring. But when that change appears more dramatic than usual, it can feel frightening.  I wish there was an emoticon for anxiety to accompany my thoughts on change.

I think that the Christian Church across Canada is experiencing such a time of dramatic change. Although the Mennonite Church Canada family has been navigating this period of change through the work of the Future Directions Task Force, the need for modification is not unique to us. The Canadian context is significantly different than when our current church structures and programs were developed.

In a recent conversation of a small group Bible study I am engaged in, we reflected on the work of the church. For many, it has often felt like spending energy keeping things alive, just for the sake of keeping things alive. This has become a tough sell for many people.

I must admit, I have often felt uncomfortable with the enterprise of Christianity.  Worship has become a retail commodity. Representing God has become an occupational career. When individual achievement becomes ingrained in this spiritual movement, is it any wonder that much of Christianity has become addicted to growth and success? 

Do not misunderstand me. I think God is very active redeeming the world. But has sharing the Good News of Jesus become a means to assure the ministry and financial sustainability of an institutional church? That would seem misguided to me. 

I see a different future: a future where people are invited to discover their own vision through Christ rather than keep the dream of the church alive. I am not advocating for rampant individualism. But individuals must be able to see themselves as integral to a communal expression.

I have seen the importance placed on debates that many people consider irrelevant. I have heard a panic expressed that has made the concerns of the church feel self-focused. 

I see a different future: a future where the transforming wonder of God's grace is experienced by those who have historically been rejected. In a growing secular society, people are aching for spiritual meaning and connection. Our debates should not be dictated by secular society. But our debates should be relevant to the spiritual aching of society.

I don't think we have gotten it all wrong. But much of our wisdom is bound by culture and context. Wisdom is constrained by what we know. The Spirit of God is active in the realm of what we do not know.

In this season of dramatic change it is important for the church to display an unshakable confidence in the God who knows what we do not know. Only then can we push away the fear and despair that always accompanies times of dramatic change.

You can't get there from here

In the story of Jesus’ birth, I wonder if the Magi ever stopped to ask directions. Although the biblical record says they were guided by a star, the journey was a long one, and stars are not visible during the day.

I don't like to stop and ask for directions. I usually think I can figure it out myself. I am hesitant to take the time to ask for directions because the stop will make me late.

I remember one time I stopped for directions and was told; "well you can't get there from here". The comment was an acknowledgement that I needed to get on the right road before I could get to the desired destination.

I have often reflected on that comment. I wonder if God might say the same to the church.

I remember as a child hearing remarkable stories of faith - where people placed themselves into a place of great risk, and then finding a miraculous encounter with God's grace. I longed to experience similar stories but recognized that I was not willing to embrace the risk necessary for such a story. I wanted the relief of a miraculous intervention without embracing the risky platform of faith. I think God would say to me "you can't get there from here."

I remember as a teen listening to a missionary tell the story of their spouse who was murdered in the service of the church. The remarkable grace displayed by the missionary in retelling the story was striking. The experience opened up many speaking engagements to share the story.

After the message a number of youth wanted to  have follow up conversations. One individual expressed a desire to have a similar ministry. The missionary paused and asked; "do you want to experience the pain that developed made the story?"

I recognized myself in that encounter. I too wanted an exciting testimony to share, but I didn't want to experience the sorrow that created such an understanding of God's grace. I think God would say to me: "You can't get there from here."

Now, many life experiences later, I have bruises, scars and memories. They remind me of God's faithfulness. Every time I run my fingers along a bumpy scar on my back I am reminded of God's intervention of grace.

I have come to learn that life doesn't consult you before introducing pain, sorrow or disappointment. Yet it is in these events where the richness of God's presence is experienced.

Wondering what a New Year will bring can be intimidating if we dwell on it for too long. Times of uncertainty and confusion can be fearful. It can make the church question the presence of God. Yet experience tells us, that if our intention is to be where God wants us to be, then no matter how daunting and fearful the journey - we will be able to get there from here. 

Is God abandoning the church?

I have been having some disturbing thoughts lately: thoughts that have made me feel uncomfortable. I have been struggling with the notion that maybe God has abandoned the church. Let me explain.

During the Christendom era the church saw itself as invincible. Entire families attended weekly service together. Our congregations thrived. Our institutions grew. Our influence was obvious. We even had the luxury of competing against ourselves. When seen as the place of moral authority within society, the church began to consider its activity as the sum of God's activity.

But success has its price. Influence deadens the hearing so that the still quiet voices are no longer distinguishable. Power decreases sensitivity so that the frail and disadvantaged are unintentionally overlooked. When that happens, the church subtly looses the character of God.

The current thinking of the church represents a posture of unnecessary fear.  In our effort to understand and engage the post-Christendom context, we still consider the activity of the church as the primary activity of God. When society rejects the influence of the church our faith is shaken; we may we feel that God is vulnerable and fragile. We feel plagued with guilt for letting God down. Have we have inappropriately taken the role of God? Do we have self imposed expectations that perhaps never ordained by God?

To be sure, God longs to bring people into the community of the church. However to limit our understanding of God to the context of the church is to constrain God to human thought and ability. It might just be that God is needing to shed the constraints of the church in order to more fully be expressed. This would be disconcerting for the church but it need not paralyze it with fear. In fact when we acknowledge that God's activity is beyond us, beyond our ability to fully understand, our concept of God is enlarged and our faith becomes enriched. If we need to be able to understand what God is doing then it limits God to what we are able to understand, comprehend, and accept.

It is not easy to admit that we don't have the answer. It is not easy to acknowledge that we do not understand what God is up to. But maybe if we let go of our demand to understand all the complexities of God’s ways we might begin to see the overwhelming evidence of God at work.

If that is so, then God has not abandoned the church to reject it.  God has abandoned the constraints of the church so that we can find God all over again.

My, what a merciful God we serve!!

Defining the other: Reflecting on the Syrian Refugee Crisis

Early in the Syrian refugee crisis, I was asked by the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada (EFC) to be part of a delegation meeting with Chris Alexander, Minister of Immigration. We indicated that the church was ready to do what it could to respond to the crisis. It was a natural impulse of the church.

But as the crisis continued to unfold and governments struggle to know what to do, I have found myself pondering further.

Defining the "other" is a common way to strengthen group identity. By articulating those who do not belong, you also identify the traits and characteristics of those who do belong. It often begins with general attitudes found in statements like; "They are not like us", or "They are not our kind of people." Left unattended and unchallenged these general attitudes can grow into specific expressions of racism and bigotry - expressions inconsistent with Christian values.

Jesus challenged the common definitions of the "other" by regularly welcoming Samaritans. He purposefully elevated the status of women and children. He refused the rejection of lepers. This is the example we ascribe to as followers of Jesus.

To follow the example of Jesus is to radically erase the definition of the "other." Cultures are recognized as different expressions of the human experience. Borders are recognized as merely geographic identifiers. We are a diverse expression of people under the grace and love of a common Creator. In this we are a global family.

So a global refugee crisis, like that facing us now, is an opportunity for all humanity to reflect on our capacity to welcome one another. How well do we accept difference? Are we willing to acknowledge various understandings and experiences?

To only open our borders to people who seem most like us is to deny our commonality. We are all created in the image of God. We are all filled with the capacity to love. We all long for safety and well being for ourselves and our families.

The Christian Church is seeking to reflect the attitude of Jesus. In our Mennonite Church Canada family of congregations, this is expressed by our ecumenical memberships in the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada (EFC) and the Canadian Council of Churches (CCC). In both these relationships we commend Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) as our response platform in helping our congregations become places of welcome for Syrian refugees.

But let us not leave responses only to church organizations. This crisis is also an opportunity for each of us to help erase the definition of the "other." Some simple suggestions include:

• Inviting someone new to share a meal. 
• Trying a different ethnic meal
• Watching a movie with subtitles
• Listening to non-English music
• Reading books from non-Western authors
• Access study material from CommonWord
• Invite a Mennonite Church Canada Witness Worker/Staff to share understandings and insights from their experiences. 

While these steps may appear simplistic, they will help strengthen the capacity to appreciate differences. This in turn will help broaden an understanding of God. Then as a part of our human family requires a safe haven, our doors will naturally swing open in welcome and embrace.

Worth the Energy

It takes a lot of energy to tend to our large church family.

Mennonite World Conference (MWC) met in Harrisburg, PA this summer. That global gathering followed closely behind the Mennonite Church USA Convention in Kansas City, MO. The work of the Being a Faithful Church (BFC) process and the Future Directions Task Force (FDTF) have continued through the summer as well. The conversations have been rich, the dialogue engaging. But it has taken a lot of energy.

It has been tempting to focus the summer entirely on myself. The heat waves beckoned me to the beach. Gentle breezes begged me to fish along rivers and lakes. Growing gardens and lawns welcomed my tending. Of course I was able to participate in all these activities. A summer fully consumed by pleasure may increase my sense of relaxation, but it can also leave me feeling empty and alone.

I could have focused the summer entirely on my family and close friends. Relationships closest to you need attention and are often overlooked. Sunsets offered front row seats on the back deck. Quiet afternoons offered relaxed conversation along shady forest trails. Balmy temperatures provided concentrated times of vacation. Of course I also participated in these events as well. A full summer restricted to those closest to you may greatly enhance these relationships, but it can also insulate them from other important influences. Even good friendships and families can become self serving.

Our culture seems drawn away from larger associations. Attention to the individual is priority. But individual fulfilment requires community. Healthy relationships with friends and family also seek ways to benefit others together.

Our families of faith are facing the pressures of the focus on individuals. But our church families have much to offer. When gathering with people from across Canada or around the world, you are reminded that you are part of something much bigger than yourself. Hearing how God is at work
across the country and the world strengthens your faith. It reinforces the sense that God is at work.

Hearing matters of faith processed from within a different context enriches your own understandings of faith and theology. Different contexts provide new illustrations that can frame the familiar with fresh perspectives.

Staying contained within your own experience and relationships can create limited insight. A broader family of faith can see into your context and see things that you may have become blinded to. A broader family of faith can ask the simple and innocent questions that generate profound reconsideration and review.

There are many benefits to investing energy in the broader family of faith. To remain healthy individuals need to care for themselves, their families, friends and broader relationships. For congregations to remain healthy they too need to pay attention to themselves and to the broader family of faith.

All of these relationships are worth the energy.

The Fight of Truth

When truth is being spoken it is hard to only hear what you want to hear. Truth has a way of speaking directly to the soul even when the mind has tried to dull the hearing.

There are many conversations seeking a hearing. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) has been giving voice to residential school survivors.  The community of LGBTQ, their family and friends have been asking for the church to listen in our national church’s Being a Faithful Church process. People concerned for the health of the earth and its environment are seeking a serious consideration from the church. These emotional conversations sink into the heart where voices cannot be easily muffled. It seems simpler to shut out what is being said. It is often the preferred option.

Not many delight in confrontations. Not many welcome being challenged. It feels easier to avoid tough conversations. It feels easier to ignore the dialogue.

But avoidance takes as much energy as engagement. Denial takes as much energy as acknowledgement. Resistance is as difficult as acceptance.

When truth is being revealed it takes work to remain uninformed. When facts become evident it takes work to maintain disbelief. It is not easy to pretend ignorance.

I have listened to hearts express pain so raw that my mind begs to stop listening. My emotions beg for distance. It takes energy to remain open and vulnerable so that what is being spoken can penetrate me deeply. But it takes just as much energy to deny a fair hearing to what is being said.

When the deep conversations of the heart emerge, a fight ensues. In fact, it would appear fighting is not optional: either we fight to remain uninformed, or we fight in support of the new information. .

I have come to realize that difficult truths are a friend of God. Revelation is a result of the Spirit’s work. I'd rather fight apathy than struggle against the Spirit of God. Confronting the truth is not easy, but it has the potential of setting you free.

This is a fight even a pacifist should not avoid.

Uncomfortable Conversations

I do not go looking for challenging conversations. But I don't run from them when they find me. I have come to realize that discomfort is an indispensable element of growth. We generally realize that being stretched is a good thing, even though few revel in the stretching.

I have been reminded of this during the Church Leaders Justice Tour this spring. Together with Susan Johnson, National Bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Canada, and Karen Hamilton, General Secretary of Canadian Council of Churches, when the tour is done we will have been to ten events in five cities listening to citizen concerns and aspirations regarding poverty and climate justice.  The conversations have been reinvigorating and challenging.

I have been encouraged by the gentle but bold aspirations expressed for the church. We have been reminded that the church should be the voice in the desert. The church should not be constrained by lack of popular support. The church needs to be prophetic and should not be dissuaded by initial resistance. It is reinvigorating to hear people articulate a clear role for the church. It is challenging to hear people articulate a clear expectation for the church.

In Saskatoon we were reminded that our congregations contain those opposed to the fossil fuel industry and those dependent on the fossil fuel industry. "It becomes very uncomfortable to have any conversations," stated one participant. In Edmonton we heard a pastor push back at claims that the oil industry is globally impacting climate, stating emphatically "My people working in the tar sands do not want to kill children in Africa!”  And in the heart of mixed agriculture in Kitchener we heard a passionate call to abandon meat and dairy products to become vegan.

These are not comfortable conversations.

But the church needs to be a place where uncomfortable conversations can occur. The church is a community of people committed to one another; a commitment that does not require agreement. The church is a community expressing love to one another; a love that does not require assent.

Perhaps this is our best witness in a secular society becoming more volatile in disagreements. Showing that disagreement does not negate our love for one another may be the strongest Christian witness the church has today.

As communities of faith we must resist the temptation to shut down uncomfortable conversations. As communities of faith we must resist the impulse to avoid difficult conversations. These conversations are the context for growth. These conversations are the context for a compelling display of the love of Christ at work.

The  Justice Tour arrives in Montreal on May 12, and makes its final stop in Ottawa on May 13. 

Where Are You church?

With our increasingly secular Canadian society I have always been thinking that people have disregarded the church. However this assumption has been challenged for me.

This spring I have been asked to participate in a Justice Tour developed by Citizens For Public Justice and the Canadian Council of Churches (CCC). Together with Susan Johnson,  National Bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Canada and Karen Hamilton, General Secretary of the CCC, I have been listening to community leaders across Western Canada express their hopes and frustrations in regards to Canada's engagement with poverty and climate justice. It has been a moving experience. Whenever people share the concerns of their hearts, it is impacting. 

This is where my assumption of secularization has been challenged. I was not surprised to see young adults engaged in the conversation. I was not surprised to hear their passion about issues of poverty and climate justice. I was not surprised to receive their criticism of church leadership. However, I was not prepared to experience the tone of their message for us as church leaders. 

From Vancouver, Edmonton, and Saskatoon across six forums, I heard accounts of community action. I heard of new collaborations. And I heard a growing lament. I heard young adults lament the lack of church presence in their struggles of addressing issues of poverty and climate justice. Many of them acknowledged that it was because of the church that they were currently engaged in these activities. The church taught them that God cares about the poor. The church taught them to love their neighbours as themselves. The church taught them that part of worship is caring for neighbour and the earth that we all share. That is why they were so disappointed to experience the church's absence in the concrete struggles of advocacy and actions seeking social change. 

I heard our young adults express a deep lament. They want their church with them. They want to be part of a faith expression that lives out the values they have been taught by their faith. But while they struggle for social change they look behind them and watch the church in a comfortable embrace of a society that benefits the advantaged. While they stand in solidarity with indigenous communities they witness the church avoiding indigenous peoples. While they stand in solidarity with the poor they witness the church maintaining distance through impersonal charity. 

Our young adults are not very interested in maintaining the current form of church. In that, they are aligned with secular society; it isn’t interested in carrying on the current form of church either. Our young adults are compelled to be engaged with care for the poor and the earth. In that, they engaged with the Spirit of God. 

Our young adults have not disregarded the church. Our young adults are missing the church. Many of our young adults are ready to take serious the expectations that God has for the People of God. And they long to be accompanied by the church in their efforts. 

I was prepared to hear people say; "we really don't care about the church." Instead I heard a resounding question of deep lament: "church, where are you?"

Perhaps that is the question that has resulted in a growing secular society. When the church truly remains aligned to the activity of God's Spirit it will never become irrelevant. 

In May, the Justice Tours will continue in Kitchener, Halifax, Montreal and Ottawa.

Another possibility

I like to pause and imagine myself in the Gospel stories. When I do, the familiar passages often burst with new meaning.

I have been drawn to reconsider the story of Jesus encountering the crowd who brought the woman caught in adultery for judgement (John 8:1-11). The central feature of the story is when Jesus stooped to write something in the sand. Scripture does not tell us what Jesus wrote. I have always assumed that shame had a pivotal role in this story, because whatever Jesus wrote caused the accusers to leave one by one.

But recently I have been drawn to consider another possibility to the story. As I imagined myself in the crowd, I envisioned how I could have felt as I watched the finger of Jesus scribe the words in the dirt:

The gentleness with which his finger traced the words in the sand; it felt like he was tracing the words across my tear streaked face. I was out done. He never looked up; not wanting to expose anyone. But the honesty of the choice words made me feel like he was staring directly into my heart. More than that; shining a light into the space of my heart I barely am able to recognize. 

It took everything in me not to gasp out my astonishment. But that would identify me; associate me with the words unfolding in front of everyone. 

I didn't feel shame. I wanted to. But the tenderness with which his finger touched the earth wouldn't allow shame. 

It wasn't a stern Jesus. This was not an act of protective defiance; as though he was saying; "Go ahead throw the first stone, I dare you!" 

No, he was granting us the freeing gift of truth. He was letting us know that in his sight, our sin was as public as the woman's. He wasn't accusing us. He was acknowledging us. He was revealing to us that we were known; known and loved. 

It wasn't guilt that made us pull away. It was grace. It was a profoundly numbing grace. 

I walked away. But I have never seen myself the same again. I was truly known. Because of that I now knew I was truly loved. 

The miracle that day was not that I didn't throw a stone on the woman. The miracle that day was that I finally stopped throwing stones at myself. 

It was as though I was invited to allow the tenderness of God's love to gently trace the words that will expose me across my cheek. Then in that space of that vulnerable truth I could hear the voice of my Saviour - and finally - be set free. 

It is a sad faith that tries to hide what is already known. It is a suppressed faith that permits guilt from acknowledging the sin that God has already forgiven.

Not until we recognize that we are truly known do we realize that we are truly loved.