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.

Proud of My Church

I was a young pastor ready to embark on one of the most dangerous tasks: helping to lead a congregation through a building process. Building projects are notorious for doing in pastors. Everyone has an opinion. Everyone has a preference. Everyone is an owner. It is a context readymade for conflict.

With underdeveloped wisdom – not yet  baptized with the wounds of heated congregational meetings, I leapt into the context. And what a context: two congregations sold their separate buildings, amalgamated and decided to build a new building together.

I stood behind the wooden pulpit, looked across the congregation and dared to throw out the challenge.

“Building projects are known for producing congregational fighting” I said. “But we will have the opportunity to show the community something different.”

“The building committee will bring us decisions that will need to be made; colour of paint, carpet etc. But this is not about our individual preferences. Some have said that the church is primarily for those who do not belong to it. If so, then perhaps we should be asking our neighbours their preference for colours and textures. How would they like this church to look?”

The congregation rose to the occasion. They toiled together. They displayed the qualities of a community working together for the glory of God.

I was proud of the new building. I was proud of the process. I was proud to be their pastor.

I find myself in a similar situation now. The stakes are higher. Now I look across hundreds of congregations. Each unique and dissimilar and yet every one with a common yearning to display the wondrous love of our holy and passionate God.

This time it is not the construction of a new church building. It is a discernment process of a deeply personal and emotional matter: how to respond to persons attracted to the same sex. For many the stakes seem very high.

This too is a topic notorious for conflict.

But generally speaking, I have seen the Spirit of God at work in our community of faith. I have seen passion expressed: evidence of our love for God and the church. I have seen bold expressions of solidarity: evidence of our love for God and others.

I have seen a people listen to each other’s stories and passions because we know that that listening to one another positions us best to hear the voice of God.

I have seen a people who know that understanding someone is not the same as agreeing with someone, but seeking to understand is the same as seeking to maintain our unity in Christ.

The world is watching the church. It always has. I want the world to see a church that is unashamed to be in disagreement as they discern – because they are confident of God’s righteous grace and holy mercy. A church that knows how to lovingly disagree is a church that is ready to navigate the future.

We are Mennonite Church Canada; congregations representing a wealth of experience, passion and commitment. I am called upon to represent this body of believers. I am called upon to explain this body of believers. I do this with joy. I do this with confidence. I do this with gratitude – for in the midst of emotional disagreement – I see a people committed to extending the reconciling love of Christ.

I am not traumatized by these fearful times. I am grateful for a People of God ready to be church in fearful times. This is my church, and I am proud of my church. 

Taking Notice in 2015

We have begun a New Year and as expected, we've seen the usual barrage of media attention to New Year’s resolutions. People have shared their hopes for personal improvements. Many will strive to make positive changes in their behaviours throughout 2015. Some will recommit themselves to learning and understanding more about God.

My friend helps me to better understand God. As is often the case, it is not by anything that is said. Instead it is a behaviour that seems to exude a God quality. I marvel at the quality. I pray that I might exhibit the same attribute.

Whenever we are with a group of people, my friend notices things unnoticed by others. As conversation develops my friend detects those who are not speaking and things that are unspoken.  As shared laughter bounces off the walls, my friend observes the places of silence. I admire this, and note it.

As people mix and engage one another, I watch my friend gravitate to those not in the conversations; to those on the sidelines. Soon small talk evolves into smiles and the quiet are drawn into the circle. It is a beautiful thing to watch. It is watching God at work through my friend.

I think this is a quality that needs to be exhibited by the People of God. It reflects the character and activity of God. While society spots the obvious, the People of God recognize the undetected. Empowered by the Spirit of God, subtle changes are detected: the groaning of creation, the yearning for acceptance, the readiness for restoration. Such expressions are never ignored by God and should not be discounted by the People of God.

The Spirit of God also draws attention to that which is overlooked by society; sometimes by neglect, sometimes by a discriminating absence of concern. But the Spirit of God does not cooperate with such disregard. For the People of God attuned to the heart of the Creator, the over 1,000 missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls in Canada must be noticed. God hears every cry; the missing and murdered Indigenous women’s voices may be silent but cannot be ignored by God`s People.

When a group this large has no voice, the silence becomes a deafening chorus. The church cannot hear everything that is detected by God. Perhaps God is using the family and friends of the missing women to amplify the silence so that the church can hear this throng of indigenous female voices. It would be easier to stay within the confines of society`s selective hearing, but for the People of God such luxury is unacceptable. We are compelled by the acute hearing of God; the One who detects every sparrow falling to the ground.

I am proud of a church that offers a voice into the obvious, but also draws attention to that which is overlooked.

I watch my friend push aside a desire to be in the centre of the conversational energy and instead be directed by the Spirit of God and draw in those on the periphery. I smile with gratitude.

I am glad that I am part of a church that seeks to pay close attention to the yearning of God`s heart. May we always take notice of that which attracts the attention of God and seek to position ourselves in such a way that the Spirit of God may flow through us to the world.

This is my prayer for this New Year.

The Mystery of Trust: An Advent reflection

In times of uncertainty people want visionary leaders. But what if God's good plan is a period of sustained uncertainty?

This Advent season’s theme from Mennonite Church Canada/USA is “O that you would reveal your mystery.” This theme drips with a longing to know God’s mind. Human trust comes much more easily when we have certain knowledge.

But there is an element of trust that is only learned in the midst of confusion. Following a vision requires trust in the form of courage. But remaining calm while facing the unknown requires trust in the form of quiet confidence.

I have felt the impatient pain of fear. I have felt the anxious pain of uncertainty. And I’ve experienced the terror of confusion, of questioning the possibility that what I once believed to be wrong may not be wrong after all. Trusting in God is not easy. It demands we find ways to feel comfortable with mystery; acknowledgement that God knows more than we are able to comprehend. Our safety is not in knowing right and wrong. Our safety is in trusting the One who does.

I am not afraid of making a mistake. I am not so proud as to think that God's redemptive plan and activity will be immobilized by my mess-up.

God can direct error that is rooted in love for God and neighbour. God can convert our mistakes and wrong decisions into life giving opportunities. But rejecting God’s possibilities is cemented in judgement that offers few options other than destructive crumbling.

I want to help create an environment that gives the Spirit of God the most ease of movement. So where does this lead us?

I cannot imagine that which only God sees. But I can surrender to God's vision.

Hunting down the ‘Radicalized ‘

I am feeling anxious.

The events leading up to Remembrance Day in Canada this year are particularly troubling. The killings of two military personnel in our nation’s capital city have created a deep level of mourning across the country. I join in this mourning.

Whenever a life is lost in violent encounter there is cause to mourn. It isn’t meant to be. It should not have happened.

I have been disturbed by the official rhetoric following these regrettable events. Numerous political leaders have defined the individuals responsible for the killings as persons who have been ‘radicalized’. In the global context and history of terrorism, this is a new term. The term will continue to be shaped and defined by official and popular usage. The introduction of the term is surrounded by negative sentiments. It is a way of targeting those who need to be stopped; whose activities need to be thwarted. The ‘radicalized’ need to hunted down and eradicated.

Today’s use of the term ‘radicalized’ does no favours to the values of the Radical Reformation movement of my spiritual heritage.  The 16th century Anabaptists were labeled radical reformers in large part because they refused to participate in war or to take the life of another. I pray that this kind of spiritual radicalization will continue.

I am not sure how to respond. I do not support the encouragement of people to sacrifice their lives in the killing of others. I am saddened that global systems seem to require people to take drastic actions.

It feels difficult to express my opposition to war without appearing disrespectful and uncaring for the two military personnel who have had their lives taken from them. The loss of their lives disturbs me deeply. It does require action. But it does not justify war.

On this Remembrance Day I want to join those mourning the loss of innocent lives. I want to support the notion that serious action is required. I want terrorism to stop. I want hatred to be disempowered.

So I will look to the One who is able to transform hearts, the One who can turn people from hatred and greed to the pursuit of health and wealth for all people. I will ask God to heal the world so that war and violence will cease – and the love of God and neighbour will rule the land.

Ed. note: For inspiring stories of peacebuilding in recent times as well as more distant history, visit www.liveforpeace.org.

After a Sad Day in Ottawa

Like many Canadians I find myself in a place of sadness following the senseless violence in our capital city. I resonate with the voices that lament the sense of loss for our peaceful context. I share the anxiety of how this act of violence might result in our day to day affairs being weighted with new forms of fear through heightened security measures.

I feel sad. I feel a loss.

I mourn that the life of another can be disregarded so easily - and an innocent father is gunned down.

I mourn that the rhetoric of revenge is seen as the best way to re-establish a sense of calm and confidence.

I mourn that religion has become so tainted that the Loving Creator can be grossly misrepresented by acts of violence.

I mourn that our global family is divided by systems of defence and self interest rather than a common commitment of seeking the good for all. 

I pray for mercy. I pray for healing. I pray for peace. I pray that the good in all of us may triumph over the tendency for evil in each of us.

I don't want people to die having to defend me. I don't want people to die trying to get the public's attention. I don't want people to die seeing each other as enemies. Surely as a global family we can find new and better ways of working for the common good of the earth and all its inhabitants.

I will mourn for awhile. My prayers will feel heavy for awhile. My heart will ache for awhile.

May the light of God's love blind hatred and revenge and give us all a vision for the dawn of a new day filled with the power of a love for all our neighbours.

A prayer in response to the events on Wednesday, Oct. 22

Ottawa, Ontario

-adapted from a prayer by pastor Carmen Brubacher, Ottawa Mennonite Church

Our God,

We call you Light of the world, but today we feel the weight of night.

We call you Wisdom, but today we have so many unanswered questions.

We call you Prince of Peace, but today we feel surrounded by violence.

We call on you in our fear, our disbelief, our sadness, and our helplessness.

Hear our cries.

Hold us as we remember the sounds, images, and experiences of Wednesday.

Hold the families of all those killed and injured in our capital city.

Hold families around the world who experience violence and instability.

Remind us to hold each other as we gather in our homes, schools and workplaces in the coming days.

May we seek your wisdom as we try to respond to the questions of our children, which echo our own questions. Why do people kill each other?

We are people shaped by your story of peace. May our responses to the events in our capital city be formed and informed by this identity. 

May we seek your light as we find our way through the dark.

In your mercy, Lord, hear our prayers.