Netherlands
We live in a society – in Western Europe – that does not speak our language anymore. We have been the dominant culture for ages and ages…be it Roman Catholic, Protestant or Mennonite. The Christian language, Christian imagery, Christian norms and values were absolutely dominant within the Dutch culture. And within a generation that all disappeared.
Oh, of course, we had secularization before. It has been going on for a few decades. And we lived with it.
Our churches have always been small, our congregations too. We like that. We like to know each other.
But there was a turning point, apparently. And we reached it without actually noticing it. Some of us don’t even recognize it still.
It is not only about secularization. It is about a whole culture with all its references that disappears, in the blink of an eye.
But there it is: the people around us don’t understand us or our story anymore. It is like Pentecost in reverse. We speak and tell our story, using the same language as the people around us. But no one understands what we say. The words we use have no meaning – or even have another meaning to our listeners.
We are waking up in a strange, strange reality. Incomprehensible.
This is different than decline. This is a new world.
And I like it.
We are beyond trying to salvage what was. We are beyond trying to turn the tide. We are on the brink of re-inventing ourselves, our churches, our storytelling. We are on a route of discovery.
There is no fallback position. Not even our money can save us now. That is very, very scary.
And I like it.
Exile in our own land
This strips everything down to the bone. Even the gospel. We need to read it, study it, find it again. What is of worth? What is truth? What is tradition? What story? What are ancient answers to even older questions? And what still speaks to us, to our hearts, our souls now? We have to search ourselves, our motives, our confessions. There is no easy way out.
And that is the thing. Our growth must be measured spiritually for now. Not in numbers, but in gentle wisdom. In humanity. In community.
We need to delve deep. We need to sit with the loss of our being at home in this land, this world, this language and mourn that loss.
And the Bible will tell us how.
We have done this before. Different time, place, situation; same problem. We are in exile within our own land and continent: “Rivers of Babylon,” even if we are the only ones left that understand that reference (and we don’t mean the Boney M song).
And here we find new ways.
We don’t tell people about our faith. We live it.
A different world
A lot of our younger people have met the church through AKC – our summer camps. Not a word of gospel is uttered during these camps. But in these camps, we create a world that is utterly different from what these children and young adults know at home or at school. A healing space, without pressure or judgment. A space where they learn that the ways of this world around us may not be the final answer.
We don’t push, we don’t lecture. We have fun, we hold the space for them…and we wait.
At one point, they become curious. They start asking questions: what is so different here? And why?
In the broederschapshuis where I work, all sorts of people come and stay. We don’t share our faith unless asked. But we ask everybody to meet, to work together, to be part of our community while they stay.
In doing dishes together, we encounter God – or at least questions about God. In each question we try to find something that we can learn.
We don’t have answers any longer. But questions of people that don’t know about God or faith show us our way.
It touches me when a young volunteer at our broederschapshuis visits our church for the first time, finds the courage to stand up and testify: ‘There is something here. I don’t have the words for it yet, but it lives in my heart now.’
In our situation, that is a testimony of faith. Because it is true: we don’t have the words. Yet.
Our growth will not focus on numbers, but on being human-with-God. Our mission is our own finding of the Way. And in doing so, we try and live it out.
People notice. People ask questions. We try and answer them and we fail. And that is the beauty of it. That’s what keeps the conversation, the learning process going.
We will grow in not knowing at all. And being hesitantly fine with that.
Thanks be to God.
—Wieteke van der Molen is a pastor and spiritual director within the Algemene Doopsgezinde Sociëteit (Dutch Mennonite church). She is co-director of Dopersduin, a Mennonite Broederschapshuis (fellowship house) and retreat centre in Schoorl, Netherlands.
