Religion and War-building
Along with my half-time pastoral position, I'm also taking classes half-time to finish up my Bachelor of Arts. A while ago, I started pursuing a Bachelor of Mathematics, and after I lost motivation for that, I switched into Religious Studies, and I'm crawling towards completion. I felt like I never quite fit within the mathematics circle, because I never quite bought into the pursuit of the high-paying career and the whole technology for the sake of technology game. Switching into the liberal arts has left me still feeling like an outsider, but for various other reasons.

One class that I'm taking this semester is called Religion and Peace-building. It is offered through the Peace and Conflict Studies department at Conrad Grebel University College. Many of the students in the class are in the PACS program, using it either as a major or minor. Everyone in the class sees peace as a good thing. What divides the class however is our various views of religion. There are a few devoted Christians, a Muslim, a Jew, and a number of people that are "not religious, but heavily spiritual."

For the last four classes, we've had various guest speakers representing various religions, and their stance on peace. People have been complaining (amongst themselves, not to the prof) that the speakers only talk about theoretical practice of religion, and how each one should be peaceful.

They are frustrated that we only talk about the ideal, and never when those religions "fail" and wars go on despite religious unity, or worse, because of religious conflict. It seems to me that many of these people are really looking for a class called "Religion and War-building". I feel like telling these people, "Look this is what we do, talk about the theoretical crap. If you wanted concrete solutions, switch out of PACS and get a real job." Much of the academic institution within our society readily blames religions for most, if not all, international conflicts (not to mention domestic violence etc.). It seems to be a strangely new idea to a lot of these folk that religions can (and should) be peaceful.

I certainly don't want to hide the historical link between the Christian church, nor do I want to hide behind the pacifist tradition of my spiritual and biological ancestors, but Christianity can and should be a peaceful religion, and I want to show that. It seems however to be an argument that is lost before it begins.

   [ posted by William @ 1:27 PM ]

United I Stand
The week ending today was designated as the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity by the World Council of Churches. This past Sunday, as part of a local ministerial pulpit exchange as a response to this international ecumenical effort, I preached the sermon at two local United Churches. Theirs is a double charge, meaning that one pastor leads both congregations. It was a new experience for me, preaching the same sermon twice in one day, but I think it went alright. The theme of the Sunday was "No Other Foundation," using the text from 1 Corinthians 3:1-13a. Here is an excerpt from that sermon:

  "Let’s look again at the church as a family. I use my family as a metaphor, but I know that your family situations are likely very similar to mine. Time and growth have very similar impacts on the church as it has on all of our families.
  In my family, we would have squabbles when I was younger, and we still have some squabbles when we get together now. As much as we try in our various Christian circles, there still isn’t absolute agreement on things, and after centuries of doctrinal differences, we are more likely to disagree than ever. While we still disagree, we still hold core issues in common, and unlike in the Reformation, we are able to live peaceably beside each other. We also need to continue to do so.
  My one sister lives too far away, so she couldn’t afford to come home this year. Sometimes, churches work together, while there are other churches that are unable and maybe unwilling to participate. We cannot let these separations become permanent, and we must ensure that there is reconciliation when certain people or groups feel isolated, socially or theologically.
  Over the years, some of my siblings have gotten married and have had children, so it’s not the same family it used to be, there are different people in the house than there used to be. Internationally, as a result of mission work, churches are strong and growing in many different parts of Africa, Asia and South America, giving the global church a different look than it has ever had. The Holy Spirit is alive in these churches, and they are experiencing rapid growth and powerful spiritual renewal. We need to see these Christians in other parts of the world as equals in the body, and we need to open ourselves up to learn from them. They can teach us how to be more open to the Holy Spirit, and also how to hold strong to their faith in trying and difficult circumstances.
  In my family, many of us have traveled to different places and have seen and heard different things, so we don’t agree on things as much as we did then. We live in an ever-changing world, so different churches find different ways of adapting to their surroundings. Some try to embrace the culture and use it as a tool for outreach, while other churches stick to traditional methods of practicing their faith. We need to keep each other accountable, to make sure that one is not being too rigid, and that the other is not being too soft.
  My family gathers at Christmas in a building that is no longer home to many of us. One thing that we know has changed is the role of church in our society. Not long ago, 80-90% of the local population attended church regularly, that proportion is now likely half of that, if not lower. Government and community institutions no longer run as church based initiatives. We are not the majority voice anymore. However, this does not mean that we should go around complaining that nobody cares about church anymore, what it means is that we, as followers of Jesus Christ need to show people that church, and worshipping God is worthwhile. If we are ourselves divided, and we cannot even show love to each other, how well will we be able to show love to the outside world, and how well will Christ’s light shine through us.
  Despite all of these differences, and the hassles of getting together at the holidays, we enjoy gathering together as a family, and regret that it only happens roughly once a year. No matter how far away we travel, no matter how differently we see each other, there something inside of us that we cannot deny, that we are family. As long as we, in our different churches claim Jesus Christ as Lord, then we also cannot deny that we too are a part of the same body. We must see ourselves as one body by loving each other as equals. We must show ourselves as being one body by presenting one front to the world."

   [ posted by William @ 5:45 PM ]

Menno Lit - part II
After my last post on the nature of Mennonite literature, Jared Penner, a Mennonite scribe of his own right (pun intended), posted a three-part reply, addressing some key questions. In it, he talked about his librarian mother, who wondered why writers of Mennonite books only know how to be critical.

Jared, thanks for your insightful reply. Your mom is right to notice that popular Mennonite literature only comes in one form, critical. While it sadden me as well, I see three main reasons that justify/explain this pattern.

1. Mennonite writers face two types of critics, first, larger society, including the literary community, and second, their extended Mennonite community. If a book comes off as being too pro-Mennonite, then the larger society sees it as propaganda, and it gets relegated as religious/cultural fringe work. If a book comes off as being too critical of the Mennonite community, then the writer gets ostracized. There is profit in appealing to the masses, and their is a strengthening of social ties in appealing to the home community. Also, if it's too lukewarm, we all spit it out of our mouths.

2. A social worker friend of mine said that the recent immigrant Mexican Mennonite women she works with have been brought up only being able to show two kinds of emotion, grief and shame. Maybe 400 years of cultural development has left that same mentality ingrained in all of us, including the writers of our best Mennonite novels.

3. Part of our problem (there's my ingrained shame) is that we try too hard to embrace writers (and everyone) as our own. Maybe when people leave the Mennonite church, and move out of their Mennonite communities, and they publicly state that they don't like sunflower seeds, perhaps we should no longer call them Mennonites, and as such, we no longer need to be offended by what they write.

   [ posted by William @ 5:20 PM ]

Aufgefallen
I'm taking a class now in Mennonite literature. I really enjoy the class, and have a great insight into the culture from which these books are written. I am however not a literature expert, which leaves me with two fundamental flaws when I read novels, 1.) I don't always catch imagery, and 2.) I don't understand the why.

Books are full of imagery, where something is happening in the book, but it means something else. For example, in "Peace Shall Destroy Many", Thom is unable to quiet all the frogs in the pond, even though he was sure that all that was needed was to throw rocks into the water, which symbolizes the community leaders' inability to quiet the questioning youth regarding fundamental issues. I only knew to watch for that imagery because I had been forewarned, and that warning made no sense, even though I had read the book once before. Now, my second time through, I get it. I know when I read a sexual encounter, that it likely implies something else, but I have trouble reading something non-sexual and seeing it as sexual imagery. I still get the plot, but I miss a lot of the deeper stuff that makes book worms go nuts.

What came as a surprise to many in the class, but not myself, is that most Mennonite writers leave their churches and communities soon after becoming famous. Rudy Wiebe was essentially excommunicated after writing Peace Shall Destroy Many. I think part of it comes from the fact that we (as Mennonites), like any large ethnic group, don't take self-critique well. In the larger Mennonite community as well, there is a certain suspicion about the outside world, including the academic world. Things that make sense in the literary world don't always jive in the world of the "quiet in the land". Writers are told to write everything, to be open and honest, because that is how stories are best told. Academic readers know this, and read novels accordingly. The general public, especially people who can perceive ridicule within a novel's pages, are incapable of reading in this way, so there is a fundamental disconnect. Fundamental, because these people receive praise and accolades from the literary world, and rebuke from their own communities. It's only logical then that most would see an obvious choice of which group to choose.

In some ways, I too am Aufgefallen (having abandoned the traditions of the fathers), because I have left my original church conference, I read this kind of literature, and I'm dating outside my immediate culture. However, I think it's still important (as does Rudy Wiebe), to work as hard as possible to bridge those gaps, address legitimate complaints, and work on toward greater goals.

   [ posted by William @ 5:20 PM ]

Maybe, Baby
I enjoy winter driving. Understanding the limitations placed on me and my vehicle by the weather empowers me to enjoy the occasional intentional fishtail, donut, etc. Unfortunately, this understanding is thrust upon us by our first loss of control on the roads.

Last night, coming home from Waterloo, I took the scenic route (fields, forests, country roads and the region's new round-a-bout, instead of the highway). As I approached the one 90 degree turn, I remember thinking that the roads were better than a few days before, so I didn't need to let off the gas too much. Then, just as I began to negotiate the curve, I realized that I was still driving 80 km/h, which would be too fast on a good day. The only option was to keep driving, which I did. I started to think that I would escape the curve without skidding, but then I felt a familiar sensation, the back-end of my car was skidding. Instinctively I tried to correct my steering, and the car swung back in the other direction, but more drastically than the first swing. I had rolled a car before, so I was ready for that to happen again, in fact, I began to expect that to happen. It was weird to accept that I might total my car, or that I might injure myself, but not lose hope. I had no fear of death, but I still had little faith in my capacity to get out of it unscathed.

Magically, after my split-second of deep contemplation and resignation to failure, I straightened myself out. I don't know what I all did correctly, or how well my instincts were trained to handle just such a situation. I don't know how much I deserved to escape unharmed, or how much good driving skill was being exercised. I do know what I should have done, steer into the skid, and step more on the gas (my car is front wheel drive).

Driving away, I could only laugh. I actually enjoyed the experience, not enough to try it again, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. I was excited to still be okay, to not have to walk for help, or try to push my car out in the frigid cold, in the late, late hours of the night. I couldn't help but thank God for my deliverance. Was this a sign? I believe that it was. Maybe it means something other than a reminder to drive more slowly. Maybe it should force me to bring other things into question.

If I had wiped out, and damaged myself or the car, I would have likely taken it as a more serious sign. Maybe that means that my interpretations are preset, no matter what the random occurrence is. Then again, maybe this post has too many maybes.

   [ posted by William @ 1:02 PM ]

Nazi Harry and William the Leopard-hearted
By now, many of you will have heard of the latest kerfuffle across the pond, where prince Harry attended a recent costume party dressed as a Nazi officer. Click here for CBC's coverage of it.

Jewish groups internationally are outraged by his insensitivity, and understandably so. What's frustrating to me, is that the theme of the party is getting none of the same raising of eyebrows. The party, which was attended by both William and Harry, was a "colonial and native" themed party. We in the developed world like to forget the evils committed in history by colonialism. Maybe there aren't enough natives left to complain about the nature of that party, or maybe they are just tired of trying to make people care. I am certainly not sympathizing with neo-fascism, but Nazi's weren't simply the embodiment of antisemitism.

The guy is 20 years old. I don't care if he's third in line to the British throne, and a potential head of the Anglican church (historically you have to be both), the costume parties I've been to with 20 year-old guys are full of guys with distasteful costumes. Certainly his had the capacity to offend Jews, but also any soldier (and their families) who fought and/or died because of Hitler's imperialism (including Axis and Allied troupes). It was a joke, and you can acknowledge that you don't think it's funny, but remember that it was a joke.

Wait until he follows the family tradition of divorce and infidelity before you throw up flags of moral outrage.

   [ posted by William @ 4:22 PM ]

entering the Lion's Den
Recently I've been attending a Bible study in the town where I pastor. It's billed as a community Bible study, but it is quite clearly run and geared towards one particular congregation. I don't particularly enjoy the Bible studies, they're even more boring than normal, but I still go. Essentially what motivates me to go is a gesture of goodwill between churches, at least, I hope it's that noble. Part of me is afraid that I attend simply to show that I am not intimidated by their knowledge of the Bible, that I am not backing down from them. Maybe I'm arrogant enough to believe that my mere presence will show them the best way to read the Scriptures, maybe.

I'm not an argumentative sort, and I hate confrontations, so I don't say much, I just sit and listen. Also, your question won't really be heard unless you attach a specific Bible verse, with exact reference, and nobody has tried to disagree with the speaker so far. For me, the real action happens after the study concludes. Since I am not a regular, I always get approached and asked, "so what do you think?", which translates as, "have we converted you yet?" or worse, "I challenge you to point out any possible flaws in what you heard." I know that I have asked that question before with similar intentions. Understanding their logic, I avoid the hot button questions, but they seem unavoidable.

One guy closer to my age was at my church with his family, for the Christmas Eve service (which featured Christmas Carols and a play I wrote and acted in). I asked him what his thoughts were. He didn't like how I made a joke with the Magi. (I used girls instead of guys. They were asked why they were women instead of men, and responded "Of course we're women. If we were men, do you think we would have stopped in Jerusalem and asked for directions?" At which point the audience burst into laughter) His point was that such an important story should not be taken lightly. I said that humour is an important tool is spreading the gospel, and he challenged me to back that up with Scripture, and then somehow we were arguing about a 6 24-hour day creation. I don't want to bring this guy's whole faith into question, I just want to give him a new way of thinking. His point is that the gospel doesn't need us to preach it with worldly methods, because the Holy Spirit will be active in people's hearts. My point is that we are called to make the good news relevant to people.

It seems like I'm trying to do two things at once, not be labeled a heretic, but still present new ideas. Perhaps it's futile for me to try, seeing as how they are not particularly good listeners. Perhaps it's arrogant of me to think I'm any closer to a full understanding of the Bible than they are. At times, I wonder if I should read my Bible more, so that I'll be better equipped to debate them, but then I remember, that the Bible isn't a weapon. Sure it's a double-edged sword, blah, blah, blah, but it shouldn't be used in this battle of oneupmanship. I've been invited over to one of the guys' house for dinner, and I expect that invitation to include an attack on Anabaptism (this guy just borrowed a Mennonite history textbook from me), or a religious discussion of some kind. We'll see how it turns out.
I know this post is a poorly structured rambling, but it's late, and it's not worth rearranging.

   [ posted by William @ 11:22 PM ]

Mennonites of the Round Table
A friend of mine is preparing to discuss and then author the summarizing document of a roundtable discussion on human rights. In his blog, he asks three questions, to which I submitted a response.

Here are the three questions:
1. Violating basic human rights: What is the risk to sustainable peace, security and development?
2. UN reform: can the UN adequately protect basic human rights?
3. How can Civil Society best strengthen human rights for enduring development?

I only answered the first one essentially. I guess that leaves me wanting as far as practical suggestions and extra research, but he wasn't specific about what kind of input he wanted, so I chose myself.

Here is the text of my response:

Pat, I don't know enough about the structure of the UN, or about the definitions of some of the key terms here.

What are basic human rights? A steady supply of food, clean drinking water, shelter from the elements. Over the course of history, people have voluntarily chosen to live with much less. Anything else that we can add to that list is either theoretical, or a need that has been created in our affluence: freedom of religion, security from war, economic opportunity, free speech, social welfare, Tim Hortons coffee. These are all great things, but how many of them are universally applicable, economically feasible, and relevant for me in my cozy University computer lab. I only know life with those things, but that doesn't mean anything else isn't life. No matter how much "we" give people, they will always want more. No matter how little I have, I will never understand what it means to have less.

Peace. Following the international definition of this word, I cannot give you a good answer. Peace as the absence of war or armed conflict leaves out so much. By my definition of peace (and according to the Hebrew word Shalom), the moment any human right is violated, there is no peace. When people need more, they will do whatever they can to get it. When people want something, they will do whatever they can justify to get it. By violating basic human rights, there is no sustainable peace. Why should I feel safe, when they still feel hungry? What is the point to development when people are being mistreated? Peace, security and development ... I'm wonder how accurate it is to reword the question as, "how little can we get away with providing to make sure that we are safe, they feel safe, and we can turn a profit?"

So, in short, my answer to your question is that violating basic human rights negates sustainable peace and makes security and development irrelevant.

   [ posted by William @ 1:31 PM ]

The Gift that Doesn't Keep on Giving
Like many others, I made a donation to the Asian Tsunami relief efforts. I've been reassured that the Canadian government will match my donation, and I think I might get receipted for both mine and Paul Martin's portion. I want people to keep giving, and I want things to stabilize over there through our gifts, but I'm worried:

- I'm worried that people will only see one cause worthy of charitable donations, and that other charities will suffer in the very near future.

- I'm worried that soon this whole story will dissappear from the newspapers, and that people will forget about the continuing need. Long-term development doesn't sell newspapers like immediate tragedy does.

- I'm worried that after this, people will only be willing to contribute to events of a similar size. It's like after the $30 million lottery jackpot, nothing else is big.

I'm not worried that people are giving too much. I'm not worried that I personally will suffer because of it. I'm worried that the general public will forget the important lessons that the media says we have all learned.

   [ posted by William @ 5:40 PM ]

First Day of School
I was back at school again today, with the same weak level of enthusiasm that has plagued my academic career. Today though, had a few exceptions.

1. I get to take a class with my sister. ENGL 218 - Mennonite Literature is a class I've been meaning to take for a long time. Upon graduating from high school, I vowed I would never take another English class, but here I am. With my ever present interest in Mennonite history, theology and sociology, having read a few of these books already, and since the course counts toward a certificate of Anabaptist Studies, it was innevitable that I take the class. My sister and I sat together, and near the end of the lecture, I leaned over to her and said, "I've got to shut up, or people will think I'm a browner." The prof was going over a basic introduction to Mennonite literature and culture. A few times I helped her out with dates, book titles or names that she couldn't remember. A similar thing happened in my Mennonite sociology class, so I decided not to brand myself as the Mennonite expert in this class as well. In truth, I may know more about Mennonite literature now than some people in the class will know at the end of the course, but I refuse to be labelled as a keener.

2. I'm carrying a brief-case. As a family, we have a name exchange at Christmas. I drew a different sister's name, and in consulting her list, bought an extra "just in case she already has the first gift" gift. It was a brief case, and since she didn't already have the first gift, I kept the briefcase for myself. Carrying it around, I feel more important, and look it apparently as well. My said that if she didn't know any better, she might have thought I was the prof. I'm tired of carrying around a backpack. It may not be as comfortable, but it looks better, and will be more impressive when I start carrying it to all the meetings I have to go to.

   [ posted by William @ 1:37 PM ]

Thai Rant Source Rex
The September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks on New York City and Washington, D.C devastated the USA. Part of the mourning and the spiritual quests of that time was a renewed interest in church attendance. The people turned to the church for hope in their time of struggle. That Sunday, the 16th, while pastors across North America and the world were trying to instill hope and comfort in their parishioners, my home church had almost no response. Some guy who had been chosen to read scripture chose a passage about the end times, "wars and rumours of wars" etc., and he commented how it seemed fitting to the events of the week. Then, a representative from World Vision did his bit (his lack of notes left his sermon disorganized and repetitive) but made no mention of the attacks. I wasn't personally distraught in the face of the disaster, but I felt mildly violated that my church had no response. The place where I was supposed to turn for guidance offered no assistance in light of this catastrophe.

I am preaching this Sunday, and I will not be accused of the same negligence. I am preparing an update/reflection on the crisis to be said this Sunday morning. My intention is to re-inform people of the extent of the crisis, contextualize it in some way, encourage charitable giving, and alleviate some theological questions. Maybe if people have their faith shaken by this kind of tragedy, they won't come to church, but it's also important to have a good groundwork for when doubts and questions do arise. I will likely borrow some thoughts from Rex Murphy's Point of View, which is an interesting line of thought carrying some heavy social justice issues, but without the religious element I'll use.

I'm not entirely sure what I'll say to alleviate their theological questioning, partly because I haven't written it yet, and partly because it is a touchy subject with no solid answers. Much of my logic in this area has been formed reading Phillip Yancey's "Where is God When it Hurts?" Essentially he says that while we are looking up at God pointing at a crisis and asking what he's doing, he is pointing at the same situation and asking us the same question.

   [ posted by William @ 1:56 PM ]