Anabaptist activists in dialogue
Solidarity is another word for the connection
we exercise within the body of Christ. Unity expressed through actions reverberates beyond our efforts:
we raise our voices and our finances in support;
we stand together and lift each other up;
we pay attention so that no one is left behind.
Mikhael Ardiyanto (right) and Zachary Shields (centre) at the 500th anniversary of Anabaptism in Zurich, Switzerland, with Global Youth Summit participant Camila Perez Diener.
A way of resistance
This article is edited from a conversation between two young Anabaptists who reflect on their understanding of solidarity and how they live it out today.
Zachary Shields
I’m located in Langley, B.C., Canada. I go to Langley Mennonite Fellowship.
I’m currently in undergraduate studies in peace and conflict studies at University of the Fraser Valley in B.C., Canada. I also attended Goshen College, in Indiana, USA, for a year. I’m starting a peace club at University of the Fraser Valley alongside other students.
I am a regional organizer for Mennonite Action Canada in British Columbia and coordinator of Young Adult Anabaptists for Peace (YAAP), an initiative that started from conversations among young adult Mennonites to becoming a Mennonite Church British Columbia Task Group, to advocating for Mennonite Church Canada to engage with young adults nationally.
Mikhael Ardiyanto
I’m from a small city (around 800 000 people) called Kudus in Central Java, Indonesia.
I grew up with Anabaptist-Mennonite traditions, but “Mennonite” there is different than “Mennonite” where I live now in the Netherlands.
Theology was the focus of my bachelor studies. Last year, I graduated from the peace & trauma master’s program at the Vrij Universiteit (connected with the Mennonite seminary in Amsterdam, Netherlands). At the moment, I work with the Amsterdam Centre for Religion, Peace and Justice Studies.
While here, I am also involved in the protests among students, and writing articles related to that struggle. I am also involved in making documentaries about ecological injustice in Indonesia in collaboration with Kerk in Actie (a Dutch Protestant relief and development organization).
How does your Anabaptist faith/culture/training influence you?
Mikhael
The Anabaptist tradition has really influenced how I see social issues and structural problems.
When I was a child, I was always taught Mennonites: what makes Mennonites different is that we are a peace church. Whenever I identified myself as a Mennonite, what often followed was admiration for the pacifist movement.
Yet, things aren’t that simple. We have a tendency to understand “peace” in narrow terms: as long as nothing appears violent, everything is assumed to be fine.
Moreover, there’s often a gap between how faith is understood and how it’s lived out. Much is taught and learned, but it does not always translate into action.
Studying in the Netherlands in a diverse community, I am learning peace is always related with ecological issues, domestic violence, gender injustice, etc.
Zachary
We (Mikhael & Zachary) got to meet last year in Zurich. People had come from around the world for the 500th anniversary of Anabaptism. We were all recognizing each other as people who are part of the peace church. It’s something we share in the Anabaptist movement.
When I’m talking to Christian friends from non-Mennonite backgrounds, peace doesn’t come up in their churches at all.
And yet, for us, what does peace mean beyond “not war,” beyond doctrine? Even in our own tradition, we talk about peace but often fail to live up to it.
We can be averse to conflict, which is different than violence. In trying to avoid conflict, we create deeper issues that become harmful in verbal, emotional, spiritual ways.
An Anabaptist peace framework, in terms of faith perspective, informs everything I am doing, from my day-to-day living to my professional work to the position I find myself in with MC BC, it’s about building toward a positive peace that works for everyone.
A positive peace is about solidarity for people across the globe as well as in local context.
Mikhael, you have a specialty in trauma: how do you think Anabaptist faith informs you in that area of study?
Mikhael
Sometimes our Christian formation collides with our cultures.
When I came to the Netherlands, I gained perspectives on how we have collective trauma in Indonesia about happened in the past.
Yet, things aren’t that simple. We have a tendency to understand “peace” in narrow terms: as long as nothing appears violent, everything is assumed to be fine.
Moreover, there’s often a gap between how faith is understood and how it’s lived out. Much is taught and learned, but it does not always translate into action.
Studying in the Netherlands in a diverse community, I am learning peace is always related with ecological issues, domestic violence, gender injustice, etc.
Trauma can pass into the next generation. It becomes collective when next generation builds on the trauma. People do not want to talk about this trauma, but then it disrupts society itself.
Zachary
Struggling to understand peace beyond the absence of violence: I think that’s a global
challenge for Anabaptists.
Growing up in the church, I thought peace is just like relief work, peace is just working against war and conflict overseas.
But often, people were ignoring conflicts in church. People were not addressing their own personal traumas, their family traumas, the traumas of the church.
I think it’s important for the church to name that we have traumas that sometimes inhibit our ability to reach out and work with people with different backgrounds.
People might not be physically violent, but they might be talking about others behind their backs.
When we engage with Jesus’ teachings, we find solidarity. In the Gospels, Jesus sat with people from all walks of life. One of the first spreaders of good news Jesus chose was the woman at the well (John 4).
For me, those core stories shape avenues for solidarity work.
Mikhael
There’s also my struggle. When you learn a lot of things, you have a sense that you were called. Knowing what Jesus did in the Bible, it gives me a drive to do something.
But at the same time, I realize that I’m not a messiah, the one who can solve everything. I want to have solidarity with others.
I’m here, but I’m not the subject of the story. The focus of the story is people who are also working to right injustice. But even though we are working together, we are also in a different positions in terms of privilege.
Zachary
When you’re equipped with knowledge, a bit of power to make a difference, there’s a healthy instinct to help. That’s not a bad impulse, but we have to heed the impulse and listen.
In the way that we listen, we can kind of bring on a kind of prayer-like practice. If I am not hearing others, how could I hope to hear God’s guiding words?
What do you think of solidarity in terms of working with people going through tough. times: what does solidarity look like for you?
Mikhael
It is important to recognize that the urge to “help” can easily drift from its original intention. The impulse itself is not wrong, but without the practice of truly listening, the desire to get involved can turn into a tendency to dominate. In this oftenunconscious process, those who should remain subjects are gradually reduced to objects, no longer friends in the journey, but rather the recipients of our interventions.
But the problem is not limited to that. This shift also has the potential to strain relationships with those living in the reality being fought for. Instead of feeling part of the struggle, they may feel distanced or even displaced.
Solidarity, in this sense, risks being perceived as an intrusion – or worse: as a threat. At this point, the question is whether we are truly present to walk along together, or whether we are unconsciously positioning ourselves as the centre?
And further still: might this become, in subtle ways, a new form of domination?
Zachary
Connecting with those different than us is foundational for those looking to engage with solidarity. It can be a beautiful thing.
Part of solidarity is letting the different worlds collide. We need to have “micro reformations,” not in faith, but in spirit.
When you find common threads of interests really meet, peace and love begin to flourish. We see the fruits of the Spirit come alive when we gather, listen, engage and also hear the dreams for the future of the people who are suffering.
Looking back to the first Anabaptists. They were talking about their issues, meeting regularly and they came to radical revelations and became Mennonites, right?
When people get together in groups and talk about the issues dear to them, it’s much harder for empire and other repressive forces to crack down.
Thinking about my context as a Mennonite in B.C., we like to have potlucks and we like singing in four-part harmony.
This has been a powerful tool of solidarity. In Mennonite Action, we have gotten to sing and share our music with others in solidarity.
I think that the Spirit really moves when people use their collective voices to talk out against violence and atrocities. Let peace and justice flow like a river.
Solidarity is something we build through right relationships. And I think this is a struggle because we want to rush to the solutions. We need to get there, but we also need to get to know each other’s needs.
Mikhael
When listening is absent within a movement, collective actions are often reduced to mere acts of violence, while demonstrators get stuck blaming and criticising each other.
What is being fought for relates to the fundamental rights that arise from the experience of injustice itself. Yet in the public sphere, as the space for mutual listening grows ever narrower, what emerges is not merely suspicion or “troublemakers,” but also the risk of but also a deeper misrecognition—even domination—by those who should be the very subjects of the struggle itself; as if the struggle no longer belongs to them, but rather comes from elsewhere.
Without a willingness to be vulnerable – that is, the courage to open oneself, to listen, and to learn and unlearn – this situation will only continue to spin in the same cycle of misunderstanding.
When you listen to others, you learn why they do things. You may learn they are scared.
And you also unlearn. After that, we can have more fruitful conversations.
Sometimes when we are trying to fight injustice by ourselves, we feel like the world is so cruel. Like we cannot escape, like injustice is everywhere. That’s why I try to find a community who can work together.
When you go to the streets, organize structures, meet diverse people, you have a different perspective. We can share, we can work together. And when we have questions, we can come to each other and ask.
And then you feel hope.
It’s not only about a feeling, but about being present with others, and they are also present with you.
Zachary
In my Mennonite community, particularly with young adults, when I talk about peace and justice matters, it’s super electric. Talking about solidarity is extraordinarily engaging.
Young people have energy and want to do something. But often, we’re lacking in experience. So finding those avenues to work together with can be energizing to congregations in a way that really expands a church body, addresses the powerlessness people hold and helps them grow.
We know the church can be a transformational place and I think we need that transformational church for peace in the world – especially for those going through tough times. So let’s let the energy of the spirit that people have and connect in solidarity.
Mikhael
And solidarity is not a solo act. Sometimes you feel paralyzed, overwhelmed; you cannot sustain it alone.
It always starts with the community. It’s always related to people.
In Indonesia, we have the word tongkrongan, an informal, low-key social hangout. People can exchange ideas in a relaxed setting.
The gathering itself is important because from there you start to know each other. It can be tense but when you are sharing food, there is space to start building conversations.
At this kind of informal gathering, conversation can go anywhere from your personal stories to political situations and the discussion can become bigger. It’s a way of sharing to pass the stories to others.
When we can’t find a space to address an issue in spaces like the church, this kind of informal gathering to share stories acts as a way of resistance.
Zachary
Yes, this all requires leaning on different people. If you’re not very good at media or public speaking, find a friend who can help you talk about this violence in your neighbourhood or on the other side of the world that you’re really concerned about.
And also reach out to people who aren’t in your church. A big part of solidarity is that we should reach beyond our normal boundaries, even if it’s a little bit uncomfortable.
Mikhael
In Indonesia, conversations about structural injustice run the risk of being seen as “too political,” and precisely for that reason, the church tends to distance itself from discussions.
But when I see folks who are not in a position of suffering realize their privileged condition and also how they are connected through structures that perpetuate violence, and they find ways to protest in their own context (e.g., Mennonite Action’s advocacy for Palestine), it gives me inspiration. I can also connect with people to advocate in creative ways for Indonesia despite being located in the Netherlands.
Zachary
I have a message to people across the world. Do not be afraid to extend church in your solidarity work, to extend what church means.
That’s part of what solidarity is: the outpouring of love in cooperation, working together for peace and hearing and receiving as well.
We need to receive that kind of peace from people who are facing injustice to hear what their fights are so that we can work to address the issues that are keeping people hurt and suffering.
Mikhael
Solidarity begins with our recognitions: what do I have, what do we have, what do we carry and how privileged we are. But it’s not only about self-awareness. From those recognitions, we begin to see how our struggles intersect with others, what connects our struggles to other struggles.
Solidarity is when I choose let the suffering of others to change me, move me. And from that, we act together, standing for something different, learning new things and unlearning old ways that did not serve, and walking with others.
Pan y Paz (bread & peace) is an initiative of the Colombian Mennonite church. The goal is to engage local churches, people of good will and civil society in reflecting on the relationship between economic justice and peace, and between the basic well-being of people and the possibility of lasting peace. It bears witness to the world the voice of the church regarding critical issues of conflict and peace in the country. Photo: Anna Vogt
ARe we prepared for the true cost of solidarity?
This article is edited from a conversation between two long-time peace builders in Colombia who are living out solidarity in action and Peace Commission chair Andrés Pacheco Lozano.
Martha Inés Cortés
My name is Martha Inés Cortés. Ever since I heard the gospel, I have been a member of the Mennonite Brethren church in the city of Cali, Colombia. I have served as a pastor of the church and right now I form part of the leadership team at the Iglesia Misión Jesucristo Luz y Vida.
In addition, I am the director of the Foundation Edupaz: Education for Peace and Conflict Resolution. For 14 years I’ve been involved in working for peace within schools and local communities. I am a theologian and gerontologist. I studied theology at the Baptist Theological Seminary here in Cali, and I have also studied peacebuilding.
When I speak of peacebuilding, I do so through a number of lenses, including work to stem intimate partner violence, conflict resolution in schools and the prevention of sexual abuse toward children and youth.
This inspired me to find out more, and this is how I ended up in new spaces of religious reflection about socio-political issues. It was fascinating and this became my doorway into the church.
Jenny Neme Neiva
I am Jenny Neme Neiva, from Bogotá.
I grew up in the Catholic church. I was baptized, took First Communion, was confirmed and all the rest. I was a teenager when I first encountered the Mennonite church of Colombia (IMCOL) and that was when I became a Mennonite.
It was through activism that I met up with the Mennonite church. A very strong social movement arose during the ’90s as a result of the changes being made to the Colombian constitution. Along with that came an important cause, especially among the youth, to push for the recognition of the right to conscientious objection to compulsory military service. There was also a push to recognize religious freedom. Both these rights became enshrined in the new Colombian constitution.
At first, I found it strange that a church would be advocating for these changes, and in the National Constituent Assembly to boot. Religious groups did not usually appear in these contexts wielding religious language.
Andrés Pacheco Lozano
Tell me about the solidarity you see in the contexts where you work, and what does it mean to speak about solidarity as an expression of faith?
Jenny
I think solidarity is part of life. I’m not sure whether we’re born with it or whether it evolves over time. What I notice in almost every area of my life is that when there’s a problem, I ask myself what I can do.
Currently, I occupy a number of roles, among them as special delegate of the World Council of Churches to the peace talks the government is holding with one of the armed groups. In that role, we must interact with the government delegation, with the armed group, with civilians, with international actors, among others.
Difficulties arise in that context. It’s there that I ask myself in what ways I can help. However, the question and the answer isn’t always easy.
For example, taking into account that the state is required to protect our rights, and when someone’s rights are infringed and they are going through something difficult, it’s tempting to step in and solve the problem. But it’s not always possible to intervene directly and resolve the situation because the solution is often out of my hands. Rather, I should be thinking about how to set in motion the specific mechanisms available to find possible solutions.
We also interact with victims. Given that I am both a woman and I belong to a church, this creates a degree of trust that leads people to tell me what they need. Additionally, they trust that I will know how to find a workable solution.
Another role that I play is to participate in restorative justice programs with perpetrators of violence within the armed conflict. Within this context, it is of utmost importance to listen to and witness the needs of both victims and perpetrators. And it’s important to work with them to design and generate ways to reduce harm, repair harm, provide reparations for the damage they have caused, and ways of being that depart from the violence they have lived
with.
Based on these roles, I believe that solidarity is an attitude and willingness to walk with women and men as they seek solutions together. In other words, solidarity does not mean giving hand outs.
Martha
For me, solidarity is closely aligned with empathy. It’s about mutual fellowship and collaboration in the moment. We are connected through action: how we respond to the realities we must face that require an immediate response.
For example, a woman suffering intimate partner violence experiences hunger and must feed her children who are with her. She doesn’t know what to do. In such a situation, we must ask: what are we going to do and how can we act with solidarity?
Empathy is key in moments like this. At the same time, it’s important to channel her toward the appropriate legal processes that support her as a woman and a mother.
So, it’s not just empathy and meeting her immediate physical needs such as hunger, nor is it just denouncing to the authorities what has taken place. It’s also accompanying her and encouraging her to recognize that she can move forward without her identity being only that of an abused woman. Solidarity is about orienting and accompanying her while meeting her immediate basic needs. It’s supporting her with her ideas and alternatives to get ahead, including financially.
So, solidarity means supporting the community, while teaching them about their rights and how to protect them. It allows me to unite with another person and collaborate.
Jenny
A word that comes to mind when I think about solidarity is mercy.
I think that different actors have different interests and different political, economic and ego motivations when it comes to solidarity. However, for people of faith, our
solidarity is based on mercy.
Mercy is what moves me to solidarity because what happens to other women and men hurts me. It calls me to put myself in another’s shoes and help with their catharsis, as well as considering possible solutions.
Andrés
If I’m understanding correctly, solidarity is more than empathy. Instead, it means searching for and providing tools that allow people to change or even transform their realities.
That’s interesting because sometimes we think of solidarity as an event or an isolated act that responds to a specific and immediate situation. And what I’m hearing, rather, is that it is a process of walking with people; it takes time and commitment, and means building trust.
Martha
I think that what motivates our practice of solidarity is what’s contained in the Sermon
on the Mount (Matthew 5–6). The text lets me understand my identity in Christ, where I have come from, and where I am going and this is what allows me to serve.
My faith identity is what has urged me to serve. And this is a model that other people can see and know that it’s not just a case of religiosity; it’s a lifestyle.
Andrés
So, is there something special or distinct about solidarity when approached through an Anabaptist lens?
Martha
In moments of trouble, I think that there are many organizations and spaces that are willing to accompany people. However, the big difference is that while many organizations will leave after a time, as Anabaptists, we stay. The Anabaptist world remains to walk the extra mile.
For us Jesus followers, it’s not possible to simply leave or abandon people; we must follow the call to keep walking with people.
Jenny
I think it’s a little risky to say that there is an element of solidarity that is distinctly Anabaptist. Although, I think our commitment to nonviolence could be a distinguishing characteristic.
It could happen that initially you help in a specific situation without knowing what the
future consequences will be. For example, trying to help in a situation where a family is asking for support to rebuild their house that they lost in a flood, well, OK. But perhaps
the house originally stood too close to the floodplain and rebuilding it there risks it being washed away again in the next flood.
This is a simplistic example. But the point is, there are so many risks in contexts where there are oh-so-many violent situations, as Martha has already mentioned: intimate partner violence, socio-political violence, armed conflict. These contexts demand nonviolence.
In other words, how can I live in solidarity without causing more harm?
Andrés
That is a good question. Sometimes solidarity seems like something unilateral in which I do something for others in a specific situation without counting the cost of the repercussions. So, we could have good intentions, but our expressions of solidarity may cause other types of harm.
Considering your accompaniment of Anabaptist and Mennonite communities in Colombia, what stands out for you in the solidarity you practice in the Colombian context?
Martha
There is a spirit of wanting to help each other, of wanting to be present. Colombian culture and what we have lived through makes us tough, and we look for ways to help and to cope; we help each other get ahead.
Jenny
It’s difficult. I think of the violence in our country and the concentration of wealth in the hands of a few. Really, people have to think of each other. I think that acts of solidarity are forged within a context of limitations, violence and precarity. To some degree, faith (or various faiths) promote this sense of solidarity.
Within the scope of building peace, the government, embassies and other international actors are beginning to acknowledge local efforts to build peace, and the important work the communities do themselves.
This speaks to me. Although, this isn’t something new for me because so many of us have had the opportunity to walk with communities in their journeys toward peace. For a long time, we have insisted that building peace must come from our local communities based on their social reality. This is where the churches’ solidarity and our communities of faith shine.
Andrés
What is the connection between solidarity and activism?
Martha
For me, activism can lead us to solidarity, so they are linked.
I think of the beginnings of Edupaz during the ’90s at a time of great violence. At the time, it was clear that something had to be done about the violence that we lived under, even in the schools. It was a concrete action, and even though Edupaz’s work began in schools, soon it travelled beyond the school walls so that we joined the universities in the streets.
We marched, we advocated and we talked about peace in many places in search of bonds of solidarity. This helped us understand we must strengthen our constituencies. And we started to reflect on how we could organize ourselves as a collective and a community of faith.
This reflection was born of activism.
At the same time, I also think that activism is one way we make solidarity concrete.
Jenny
I think the expression of solidarity has to go further than good intentions. Solidarity has to materialize in something. Perhaps activism is what helps us to materialize our good intentions. We have learned that activism isn’t only about disjointed responses and simple actions.
Activism is becoming more and more exacting because it invites us to go beyond our solidarity and put ourselves in the shoes of others so that together we can envision various paths to transformation and different types of transformation. Examples of new criteria for activism include “do no harm” and “embracing difference” and these exemplify the costs inherent in solidarity.
It seems to me that our task requires more thought. In this, our Anabaptist tradition serves us well because our faith also calls us to deep theological and contextual reflection. For this reason, we cannot fall into the trap of acting out our good intentions in ways that end up harming others.
We need more inputs, including our Anabaptist faith, so that our reflections and actions may be potent. I believe these inputs make the connection between activism and solidarity more robust.
Another thing I wonder is whether solidarity is an individual or collective vision. And I ask myself how to live out nonviolence, especially when our response includes indignation due to injustices that produce anger and rage.
Some people may question us: “Didn’t you say you are non-violent?”, as if we are not entitled to feel indignation and discomfort at the things that are wrong and we don’t agree with. Or to start actions and processes in response.
For example, I’m thinking about how solidarity means looking after the people who are working on issues of intimate partner violence, which are so complicated. There’s so much to do, but I know that the burden of this work creates emotional, physical and economic fatigue, in addition to the safety risks. This requires a much firmer stance from the churches.
We have so much to give from our theological perspective and our understanding of the gospel. From what our Lord inspires in us.
Andrés
In the world in which we live, it seems that activism is often stigmatized. What do you think about activism being viewed negatively or with a certain reticence?
Jenny
I think that not everything should be considered activism. There are things that people come up with that perhaps have no effect even though they insist that they are transforming the world with what they are doing. That even happens within our Mennonite family.
For example, here in Colombia, deep tensions have arisen around situations that accompany the arrival of Mennonite colonists in the last few years. And, well, they have made offerings and made work available to Colombians living in the terrain they have bought, but there are also open court cases against them for violating the rights of Indigenous communities. That is juxtaposed against the long history of the Colombian Mennonite church working to defend human rights and build peace.
Now we find Mennonite communities involved not only in land dispossession, but also environmental damage. I feel that a contextualized theological reflection is necessary. I would think that if we share an Anabaptist vision, where we make room for discernment in community, this should help us see whether actions are producing good or evil. We need to discern with honesty, facing these tensions head-on since they are a constant now.
Martha
Through the media and social networks, we now have access to information that was
hidden from us earlier. Now, it’s possible to access information within minutes, even live as it happens. So, when our youth have lost their way or instead of embodying their history, they embody what these sources of information tell them daily, it’s easy to lose
their grounding. Therefore, the topics of identity and what motivates and guides us
become paramount. Especially in the face of activism.
With respect to the Mennonite world, sometimes certain forms of violence are evident in how people lead. Within our own family of faith, we have failed to acknowledge violent episodes, as Jenny has shared, and we have failed to attend to the people and victims within our own communion.
From my perspective, often solidarity sounds great when we are looking outwards. The real challenge is to recognize the implications of solidarity within our family, with those who have been victimized.
Andrés
Jenny and Martha, thank you so much for this dialogue; for your reflections, lessons learned and testimonies of solidarity. Thank you as well for drawing our attention to the dilemmas and conflicts that exist within our own Mennonite family. And for exhorting us
to assume the responsibility we have toward the victims and people who have suffered within our own family of faith. It is there that our commitment to walk in solidarity – following Jesus’ example, as you have reminded us – must be made a reality too.
Peace Club Committee and facilitators at Wanezi Mission School, Zimbabwe.
Forgiveness and a safe space
As told to the Courier editor by the chair of Peace and Social Justice Committee in Zimbabwe.
Rev. Dr. Nosten Ncube
I am passionate about pastoral ministry, peacebuilding and leadership development. I currently serve as an Overseer within the Brethren In Christ Church (BICC) in Zimbabwe, in Nono District, Matabeleland North. I am married to Thobekile Ncube, who serves as the women’s program director and an adjunct lecturer at the Theologica College of Zimbabwe. We have been blessed with two sons, Nathan and Neville.
After sensing my call, I trained at our local Bible school called Ekuphileni Bible Institute (1993–1995). I became a voluntary evangelist and then a full-time pastor (1997–2014) at Maphisa and Nkulumane congregations.
When the church asked me to serve as chairperson of the Peace and Social Justice Committee, I discovered that I had some limitations in my peacebuilding skills. I then applied to Eastern Mennonite University in Harrisonburg, Virginia, USA, and trained there (2015–2017). After I returned to Zimbabwe, I began conducting workshops and seminars on peacebuilding and conflict transformation.
After learning about the Peace Clubs from friends in Kenya, Zambia and Tanzania, we began dialoguing about peacebuilding in our church schools in 2017, and we introduced the Peace Clubs in 2023/2024. They are now established in six BICC high schools and in five primary schools.
The BICC in Zimbabwe is grateful for the financial support received from our partner, the Mennonite Peace Centre (Mennonitische Friedenszentrum) in Berlin, Germany.
Peace Club leadership
In our BICC schools, the Peace Club Committee is composed of the mission pastor, a patron (male teacher), and a matron (female teacher), together with elected students. The involvement of mission pastors connects the Peace Club directly to the church.
Within the Peace Clubs, the students choose a president, vice president and other committee members who are supervised by the matron, patron and the pastor. The Peace Clubs have enjoyed cordial relationships with schools’ administrations.
The main task of Peace and Social Justice is to train the Peace Clubbers through workshops so that they lead peace activities weekly.
Transformation among the students
We received reports from some of our schools that the senior students were bullying the juniors, and they were abusing drugs and alcohol. So the Peace Clubs were introduced to address the rising conflicts, violence and social challenges.
Peace Clubs aim to transform young people’s mindset and help them make informed decisions to ensure a bright future. Role plays, dialogues, debates, poems and songs are among the tools used to teach peacebuilding and foster resilience, reconciliation, forgiveness and healing.
After training, there some transformation among the students.
Students now come to the tables to discuss whenever they have some misunderstandings.Issues of destroying school property and fights, as well as drug abuse, have been minimized through Peace Clubs’ activities.
One pastor noted that the Peace Clubbers’ “behaviour at church has changed as they listen and participate in church services, including giving. Behaviours like noise making or sleeping during church services are minimized.”
Solidarity
Jesus taught and showed mercy, compassion and solidarity to his followers. He commanded his followers to be merciful and to love their neighbours (Luke 6:36 and Luke 10).
We see that Jesus healed the sick, fed those in need and raised the dead. Jesus taught about repentance, helping people recognize their sinfulness and leading them to confess their sins. He put on principles of peacebuilding and conflict transformation. We are trying to influence Peace Clubbers to follow that example.
For example, the high school students at Mtshabezi bought 100 exercise books, 150 pens and 10 pairs of shoes to show solidarity to vulnerable primary school students who are needy.
Peace Clubbers take leadership
The commitment and dedication of Peace Clubbers are beyond our expectations and
imagination. In some instances, they have encouraged each other to intentionally
speak to their classmates about leading a life of peace.
One high school received negative publicity at some point. It was accused of being a haven for drug and substance abuse. The Peace Clubbers sprang into action to refute the allegations.
The Peace Club president used his camera to record the students’ positive activities and sent the pictures to the newsletter read by parents and other stakeholders.
Furthermore, the Peace Clubbers used their money to buy and print some T-shirts with messages about teaching peacebuilding and an anti-drugs and substance abuse message.
Practising forgiveness
I have realized that the most important thing is to give these young people a safe space
to share about their conflicts, fears, traumas and confessions. And we have taught the
young people to apologize when they have wronged other people.
The book of Philemon has been one of the tools used to teach about principles of forgiveness, dialogue and reconciliation. Paul models these principles through his handling of the relationship between Philemon and Onesimus.
Beyond the club
Currently, Peace Clubs are in our schools, but we also find conflicts within the church. We have done some workshops at local congregations, districts and even at the conference level to help people understand the principles of peacebuilding and conflict transformation.
We have identified and trained a pool of peace practitioners who have been instrumental in equipping both the church and the community. They have been assigned to facilitate sessions and raise awareness in church fellowships – including men’s, women’s and youth groups – during their camps and conferences.
In addition, we are reaching out to communities through workshops, and we have also been invited to help resolve conflicts at the community level. I also coauthored a peace manual that is currently being used by the BICC in Zimbabwe.
Anabaptists value peacebuilding! They are a peace community.
Speaking from my context, I think it is essential to identify the prevailing challenges and key people and then design a curriculum or a peace manual to address them. Identifying the needs will help the church to scratch where it itches. Networking and collaboration will help the church to collectively challenge structural violence and marginalization. Practical ways like music, sports, dramas/plays, and art have also been proven to be helpful.