The Stretch

 

My last post, as well as an earlier one (The Need to Die, April 23) make considerable reference to Corona activity, whether that be reading or building or fixing things in the backyard, etc.  It's becoming clear to me that life requires more than things to do to keep from going crazy in your own backyard.  I also know I've gotta get out of here.  Social distancing or not, my life contains more than what's inside my fence.  Life also needs stretching.

Consider the picture above.  All these cyclists are a care group which our daughter is a part of.  This particular Saturday it was decided they would go on a bike ride within the ample space of a nearby provincial park.  My wife and I were invited to come along - just because we are Kimberly's parents or maybe because I have joined a number of them at some previous men's breakfasts.  At any rate it was our privilege to ride along with some very experienced commuter cyclists, some recreationists, and even a few for whom this was a stretch beyond the usual level of physical exertion.  It was a ride which would proceed at speed of the slowest - everybody very welcome! What a good way to spend two hours of a Saturday morning just before the anticipated rains would come.  Obviously the first benefit is to stretch and work out muscles that do not 'get it' just tinkering at home or sitting at Zoom meetings or email messages or even walking walking as we do a lot of.  The more significant stretch, however, is a relational one.  This Saturday group contains several on the autism spectrum, several parents of persons on spectrum, several happily married couples, several stressed marriages, a couple of divorcees, and one recently widowed, and even a couple of no-shows who simply could not make it because of physical mobility challenge.  Simply stated this is one of many groups in one of our community's evangelical churches.  It is a way of nurturing fellowship and mutual support within a faith community.

Another stretch comes to mind, at least for this guy who is always thinking of many things.  This is a life stretch.  It is a part of new relationships coming my way precisely in this new circumstance, and probably also because of old experiences now followed by opportunity to think about them more thoroughly.  One good example is the awareness and polemics regarding systemic racism, not only in the U.S. but (gasp) also in Canada, the country of wide open spaces and a liberal (?) immigration policy.  I just read an article about immigrants and their experience here, "For immigrants, hard work isn't optional - it's a matter of survival" <hello@sprawlcalgary.com>.  Many immigrants become minimum wagers here; and that is followed by political rhetoric about "they all taking our jobs", and then that followed by "those lazy indigenous people should go get a job".  Main point here, our country, our communities including most of our churches, must recognize that a short while ago we were guests of the Indigenous, our hosts.  Unavoidably now we must think forward.  Thinking preservationist is unrealistic and counter productive.  The good life we have apparently earned really contains a huge measure of gift - from our Creator and from those who were here before.  The stretch? I've said it before, and must again; we are entering a new day.  Churches must learn how to include "all of these". This particular church of the bike ride is providing delightful support for the emotionally and spiritually needy - just because they delight in fresh opportunities because of new life in Jesus Christ.

Tomorrow, however, I will meet with some very good new friends.  They also are Christians (yes, new life in Jesus!) recently immigrated from Africa, unemployed or underemployed (see above) plus, some are refugees and some immigrants.  They are in need of Christian worship space.  Can we as Caucasian Christians accommodate?  Very appropriate request and it appears we can help, but we cannot provide for the painful needs of family members back in South Sudan.  At this point, and based on the stretch of new friends gleaned from yesterday's bike ride, we will move forward together in a good way - perhaps in a way not quite envisioned just yet.  The amalgamation, the knitting together of communities will be a process of many years affecting both us Caucasians and my very tall black African friends, perhaps even in a spirit of gratitude for the Treaty land we dwell on?  In my mind this is stretchy material and it is of God.  This is the material for the future of a world that is repopulating.

Two scriptures come to mind: Isaiah 54:2 “Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes"; and Matthew 28:19
Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."  God is larger than all of this (read my profile).

I enjoyed and also gained perspective from this group of adults celebrating each other even within their range of needs.  These are the occasions that make retirement exciting, even more exciting than a make-work project in my back yard.

Stories of Knowing

Reading has been my favorite pasttime forever.  In that sense this Coronavirus Pandemic is only more of the same - except that I have a little more time to do it.  More time to do it might suggest I have read many books.  Not so!  In fact only two books in this last month!  My daughters would not be impressed; they of the book-a-day variety.  Mix in a little house renovation and walking, yes walking walking along with my wife and the whole neighborhood!  I read not for speed, but for some grist for my mill - that brain up there which still thinks many thoughts.  In addition to the print variety of course there are endless links and references brought my way via committee emails, Zoom and WhatsApp meetings, etc.etc.  I read enough to cause eyestrain, those blood shod eyeballs probably because most of the reading is on screen.

The reason for this post, however, is those two books.  I'm inclined to write a bit about them because, firstly they provided a break from the digital - sufficiently edited and published and safely printed on paper so that my read can happen complete with pen in hand affording opportunity to underline a few things and scrawl the occasional comment.  Secondly, the topic.  I like books that get me thinking. These two did!  Here we go.

Advocating for Peace: Stories from the Ottawa Office of Mennonite Central Committee, 1975 - 2008, by William Janzen (Kitchener, Pandora Press, 2019). 169 pages.
Those Who Know: Profiles of Alberta's Native Elders, by Dianne Meili (Edmonton, NeWest Publishers, 1992).  256 pages.

The topic slightly beyond words.  Two different books, one about 25 years old and the other just off the press; there is a similarity of topic.  William Janzen, sometimes referred to as Mr. Ottawa, is an expert in words.  He writes these stories, autobiographical but scripted in the style of an author more used to preparing briefs and official letters than books.  There is nothing sensational about book cover or chapter headings or paragraph after paragraph of prose.  His pedigree is enviable both in academic, government or church circles - two MA's one in International Affairs and another in Religious Studies, and a PhD in Political Science from Carleton!   As Marlene Epp-Tiessen, writing in the Forward about Janzen's 33 years in the Ottawa office, says, "They reveal the unique advocacy style which Janzen ... came to embody: a posture of patience and humility; a practice of detailed research, consultation and analysis; and a principled commitment to non-partisanship." (p.10).  So, reading his stories and the issues he was asked to address I was impressed and also eventually became a little flushed - with embarrassment!  Especially so when he writes respectfully about the Old Colony, the most conservative legalistic of the Russian Mennonites.  He seeks to be helpful to those in their wanderlust, their disregard for legal details, and a theology that almost ridicules the lawmakers of any country to the extent that it wants to become the stuff of movies, embarrassing movies at that (eg. Pure, CBC, 2017).  This is the office they approach for assistance in family moves, interpretation of marriage documents, and implications for immigrating and emigrating.  Many of them probably knew naught of the classy advocate they had; one who knew the ropes, indeed the one with patience and humility gently seeking to give the best interpretation and presentation to appropriate government departments, civil servants some of whom he knew personally.  Did they also know that he dealt with many many other issues?  Okay, I just ranted a bit!  Mostly these feelings came up after reading one specific chapter; but it is a biggee!  The other 17 chapters, many of them devoted to theological faith issues involving not only Mennonites, but Christians of other denominations and even other faith traditions in relation to our government. Fascinating to see how this man, working for and among his people, spent so much time outside the box.

Enter Dianne Meili.  Her book is not presented as a story book, but that's exactly what it is, all 31 chapters.  Each chapter features one elder.  Meili, a metis journalist from Edmonton, also one-time editor of Windspeaker, Alberta's bi-weekly Indigenous newspaper, became fascinated by these seniors of influence because of her professional work and also her own spiritual search that led her to a discovery of her own indigenous heritage.  The individual profiles are fascinating, heartbreaking, inspirational, sometimes hilarious; some hardly with story line, and all spiced with personality.  She presents them as 'those who know'.  These are the ones who have 'been there done that', lived every kind of life - on the trapline, in the army, in a camp on the move, in jail, in residential schools, on the reserve.  They are the ones who have counseled, prayed, fasted, healed, and helped birth.

Touching, moving books, both of these.  My retirement interest in theology beyond the church (see my profile) and also my lifelong belief in profound inspiration from among 'the least of these' (read some of my blogs from my trucker years) kept me fascinated page after page.  So it is that sometimes a coincidental season or sequence of reading can bring on an "aha".  I read for that - and as I sometimes say to my daughters, "Why read a book two or three times. There's always another book to read."  I once had a college teacher, Dr. David Schroeder, who encouraged us to read for that aha moment, and then begin our essays - not before!  At the moment I am recipient of an aha.

It is from among the ponderous reflections of down-to-earth uneducated (some educated) indigenous elders that I discovered a great appreciation of a humble knowledgeable servant like Bill Janzen advocating for justice in and among the least and the elite.  Eventually the possession of knowledge, detail and procedure and relationships becomes a spiritual gift.  Eventually it serves especially within the power structure (or lack thereof) within the Mennonite churches; it incarnates the peace message of the people he represents in his dealings both within and beyond.  It struck me that in a similar manner, many of the indigenous elders are an invaluable presence even as they lament the individualism of this younger generation and of course alcohol and drugs messing with their communities.  Their presence in that culture provides essential service for indigenous self understanding and of course communication with Settler society around them.  I recognize considerable similarity to Mennonites, they sounding exactly like 'the old ones' I sometimes heard in my rural Saskatchewan farm family and neighborhood.  Not only that, I am fascinated to hear testimony of the influx of Christianity right in alongside indigenous ceremonies - similar values advocating for sweat lodges or church - depending on which elder is talking.  Of note also, a number of these subject elders are devoted Christians - Anglican, Catholic, Pentecostal or non-denominational evangelical!

Now to really add punch to this developing theme, allow me to add a third book; arrived in my mailbox after I had begun this post.  It is a booklet actually, one in a series, Mission Insight #19, Toba Spirituality: The Remarkable Faith Journey of an Indigenous People in the Argentine Chaco (Willis G. Horst, Elkhart, MBM, 2001).  Fascinating; I must learn more.  It is an intriguing sample of an embodiment of Christian faith within a group of indigenous tribes in the Chaco, Northern Argentina.  The essence of Christianity, complete with new birth in Jesus Christ (John 3:3), very celebrative worship, and this comfortably alongside indigenous cultural practice, all the while resisting affiliation with historical denominational church groupings!  "Aha", say I once more, another support for this tome.  Tome? probably not.  A tome is a heavyweight document.  We're not quite there just yet with these couple of "aha" thoughts.😉 Furthermore I believe the most profound inspiration cannot be contained in words anyway (read my blog Pentecost Still, June 2).

"Times, They are a changing", so crooned Bob Dylan to me and my cool university friends in the 1970's.  I remember thinking the church was so outdated and  must face the fact that we really knew our stuff - us and the anti-Vietnam War draft dodgers!  At this point, in midst of a world-altering Covid-19 pandemic and crisis racist social upheaval in the U.S, Dylan's songs ring true as ever.  Today's times-a-changing, not only among christian or indigenous communities, but all religions, all society.  It was my good fortune (providence?) that I happened upon a couple books that give excellent hope for the ongoing perspective and even relationship with Creator God especially for days such as these.  
   Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and^[a] knowledge of God!
    How unsearchable his judgments,
    and his paths beyond tracing out! (Romans 11:33).

Pentecost Still

June 1, 2020

It is the Monday after Pentecost.   I’m glad I have this day to reflect on a slightly unsatisfied – not necessarily dissatisfied – spirit within me.  It is as though the fires of Pentecost left me a little ‘underwhelmed’ as a friend of mine once quipped.  In these days of Corona services including ever novel ways of doing that which must still be done – going to church at least for those of us who have the habit – I saw digital flames atop children playing nicely with friends, grandmas reading to little ones, young people reading the Bible together, neighbors carrying groceries to quarantined friends, and even some flames wiggling a little on a couple of rubiks cubes.  The sermons and the illustrations spoke creatively to our circumstance, even offering thoughtful suggestions on how we might not let flames get too big (out of control), the possibility of flames cleansing or clearing debris, purifying, etc.  Helpful and edifying, all of this, including the testimony of one of the preachers that on Pentecost Sunday a number of years ago he was baptized upon his confession of faith.

It was all good, and provided some satisfaction as I sat at my laptop.  In fact, I was grateful for this rather than some of the other neighborhood activities going on, like tinkering in personal garages or mowing lawns or clipping at things in their worldly back yards (Oh yes, my church habit so ingrained it even survived twenty years of long haul trucking).  This, however, was Pentecost, and in my mind it requires more.  This is not merely an occasion to assuage the church-going conscience. 

Pentecost is that fiftieth day after Easter which was, and still is, the day of earth shaking experience for those who had just endured, agonized, wondered, wept and marveled at all things just transpired.  A mighty wind appeared where they had gathered to pray, and tongues, as of fire, rested on each of them (Acts 2:2-3).  Pentecost is dramatic undeniable verification of Jesus’ words spoken about Holy Spirit just before his crucifixion (John 14:26), shortly after the resurrection (John 20:22), and even just ten days prior at ascension (Acts 1:8).  Pentecost appears in the Bible in the book of Acts, often also labeled the Acts of the Holy Spirit.  The rest of the Bible from thereon to the final chapter of the last book, Revelation, is a description of the experiences, adventures, teachings and relationships with those freshly Holy Spirit empowered apostles of the faith doing that which Jesus had instructed them to.  And no longer are we dealing with the twelve or even the 120.  It's larger than that; it's a pandemic!  “The Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved  (Acts 2:47).

Pentecost is about wind of the spirit, it is about the Hebrew ruach and the Greek pneuma.  It is about God, creator God, breathing extra life into his creatures.  New life, new meaning, new confidence, new joy, to the extent that windows rattle, that rough places look simple and mountains are climbable.  Pentecost is at least one day in the church year when we get to proclaim and maybe even experience (?) the Power source.

Churches, no matter the denomination, are not churches if there not be a divine anointing.  I just read an essay “Glossolalia: Divine Speech or man-made Language?  A psychological analysis of the gift of speaking in tongues in the Pentecostal Churches in Botswana” by James N. Amanze (University of Botswana, 2015).  I happened upon this academic on-line paper recently and kept on reading because it referred specifically to an African country in its title and for me that raised the expectation that I might read a unique spirit interpretation of Glossolalia (ecstatic utterance) from another country possibly a different perspective.  This is a topic which has held my interest almost forever - even wrote an undergrad term paper on it in Bible College many years back!  Surprise, this paper by Amanze pursues the topic in what I would characterize as simple familiar format - as I would have expected from any of my college teachers. The conclusion however is uniquely fascinating.  Says the author, theologically glossolalia is God communicating in tongues in another language.  Psychologically, however, the conclusion is that it always happens in anxiety or stressed circumstance!  Also interesting, this is a study done by a Pentecostal professor.  Reviews indicate varieties of response even from reviewers who are of the Pentecostal church. I am intrigued to observe Pentecostals speaking or writing about this in similar manner as I or any fellow students have or might continue to do. Denominational lines become slightly more blurred when one studies divine outpouring.  The conversation is accessible for anyone who might wish to participate. Clearly the Pentecost incident, as described in the Bible, was not prepared for Pentecostals only or for one particular culture only.  It's for any who had or would yet become followers of Jesus!  

Perhaps this is why as an evangelical Mennonite I have an ongoing Pentecostal neediness.  Mennonite Christians are not known for much emotion, so kind of hoping that AT LEAST on this day there might be some outpouring!  Might there be at least some rippling of the sails or some extra exuberance or perhaps opportunity to celebrate the new faith of some by baptism!  [As indicated in a previous blogpost “Holy Week Battle” (April 7) my Old Colony Mennonite background may have instilled in me a bit of church year yen, including a good appreciation of the Lectionary to organize church services].  In addition to my need for baptisms on Pentecost Sunday I’m also ready for singing till the rafters shake.  I need confident proclamatory anointed preaching, and yes, also open for speaking in tongues or unplanned prophetic utterances if need should arise. The charismatic movement is not lost on me.  Indeed I'm an Anabaptist, neither Catholic nor Protestant (Walter Klaassen, 1973).   Check out 1 Corinthians 12 – 14.  It’s everywhere in the early church.

I write this stridently as a retired preacher, perhaps with a little abandon.  After all there is no need for caution lest my salary be jeopardized!  This is a testimony of what’s important to me, ie an open dependence on the anointed obvious presence of God, both in Word and Spirit.  Also, it's a declaration of what I believe important for the upcoming years.  The organized church consisting of hundreds of denominations has fallen on hard times.  The reason for that is because the church is now modeling itself on modern societal individualism.  Organizational structures, salaries, and safe workplace guidelines seem more important than pastoral care of the faithful (and the faithless). We think we are 2000 years beyond that Acts 2 Pentecost Service and all we must do is interpret that for our own denomination, be it Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant (and its myriad of Reformed or Evangelical or Ecumenical variations), and of course the Anabaptists and Quakers run right into Mormons and spiritists and unaffiliated sectarian groups often qualifying as cults.  No, we are not beyond Acts 2.  Church history has included many wars and many books, but now will need to rethink denominations. Tongues may eventually become the language of Mennonites and maybe Catholics and even in sweat-lodges in Indigenous communities.  In fact church history will need to become a reflection of how God was and continues to be here for all persons, all faiths. 

Oh yes, even before Acts 2, Jesus had given an instruct to those same disciples.  “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations”.  (Matthew 28:19).   More than ever we need that original Pentecost now.  And now just one more look at Acts 2: 8 and 11.   Then how is it that each of us hears them in our native language?  —we hear them declaring the wonders of God in our own tongues!” 

God has a language and a place for each and every one of us.