Prayers of gratitude and intercession

“I cannot be grateful enough that even though we are a large and diverse group, we speak the same language: the language of love for Christ and his people,” says Daniel Nugroho. He was part of the team that made it possible for all to understand.

Up to four interpreters from a team of 21 served from the stage at each worship plenary, interpreting all the speakers into Indonesian. Meanwhile, two interpreters from a team of eight served in the French and Spanish booths.

Interpreters experienced extra challenges in Indonesia with COVID infections and internet glitches affecting the listening headsets.

“Simultaneous translation is a particularly demanding exercise, requiring a great deal of attention, especially as you have to adapt to the accents and speech patterns of the different speakers,” says Karina DerksenSchrock, MWC interpretation coordinator.

And understanding is not only about the words used.

“Being an interpreter, we get the chance to be a bridge not just for language but also with culture and connect people too,” says Sarah Pillay, interpreter from English to Indonesian.

Interpretation coordinator for Indonesian Ary Rusdianto worked behind the scenes for years. He oversaw translation of MWC stories and worship materials into Indonesian to help fellow Indonesians become familiar with MWC before the event. One of his challenges was finding interpreters for Indonesian and Spanish.

“It is God’s blessing because he provided many Indonesian interpreters to help at the Assembly,” says Ary Rusdianto.

This article first appeared in Courier/Correo/Courrier October 2022.

Life in the Spirit: Learn, Serve, Worship

34 delegates: 4 from North America, 4 from Europe, 11 from Asia, 6 from Africa, and 9 from Latin America.

In delegate sessions, some common challenges for young people that surfaced were loneliness and the need for belonging, the need for good leadership, bridging the generation gap and the need to redefine church in a way that the function of it can shift to the spaces where young people are present.

Delegates also brainstormed solutions so they could be a part of bringing change by building relationships and sharing resources.

More than just discussing, the delegates and participants enjoyed their time learning from their different cultures, sharing snacks from their countries, sharing words of encouragement and strengthening, and praying for each other.

“One of the most impactful moments of GYS was after the delegates shared their conclusions with the participants and we spent time praying for each other’s countries on a large floor map, as well as for each other personally. The Spirit was very present as we united in prayer, and people authentically prayed for the change they wanted to see in the world and in themselves,” says Ebenezer Mondez, YABs Committee representative for Asia (2015-2022), YABs mentor (2022-2028).

This article first appeared in Courier/Correo/Courrier October 2022.

Wednesday morning

There have always been two main kinds of learning: academic and experiential. Most of us have an inclination toward one or the other, but the reality is that both are necessary for learning. Knowledge doesn’t do anyone much good if it’s not applied. Alternatively, it’s often counterproductive and wasteful to implement something without prior investigation. Navigating diverse perspectives could be understood in multiple contexts whether that relates to our global Anabaptist family, the worldwide body of Christ, or our broader multicultural society. Our ability to learn from someone is only limited by our ability to see the image of God in each person, and our openness to allow the Spirit of Christ in us to teach us through any person or situation – no matter how different, uncomfortable, or unlikeable. In thinking about what it looks like for us to learn together as a global Anabaptist family, four essential qualities that Jesus displayed come to mind: humility, integrity, discernment and responsibility.

Humility and integrity

Humility and integrity are equally tied to our identity in Christ. Psalm 119 starts with: “Happy are the people who walk with integrity, who live according to the teachings of the Eternal” (The Voice). If we know who we are as beloved children of the Father saved by grace through faith, we are able to engage in conversations with diverse perspectives humbly and without feeling prideful or defensive. Knowing who and whose we are gives us security so that we can act with integrity in diverse settings.

Jesus is clear: if we abide in him, we will do what he commands, and our lives will show it. The more up front we are about who we are and who we follow, the less people are surprised when we behave a certain way, and they are forced to make a choice in response. In the same way, Jesus knew his identity as the Son of God and his calling from an early age, which shaped his priorities, his ministry and how people reacted to him.

To operate in our own calling as priests and ambassadors of God, we must know who we are in relation to our Father. When we are confident in who we are because of our Father’s love and forgiveness, we are free to extend the same without expectations. Jesus knew he was the beloved Son of God and yet he came to serve, not be served. We are able to live in that same identity of divine sonship and servanthood that he modelled for us.

Discernment

Discernment is not so glamorous, but I’ve realized lately it will become more essential for the church as the noise and news and never-ending reels inundate us with information – both true and false. How – amid the clamour of voices in the world – are we to learn from others while discerning and bearing witness to what is true and authentic?

A pastor recently reframed discernment for me as being able to identify the source: the world, our flesh, Satan or the Spirit. Our ability to do this is something that only comes through the Spirit. One passage of Scripture that illustrates this is 1 Corinthians 2: “for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God …. Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit that is from God, so that we may understand the gifts bestowed on us by God…. Those who are spiritual discern all things…. But we have the mind of Christ.”

One of the most difficult things to learn to trust is someone else’s experience of God. Among Christians, there is a wide range of how people experience their relationship with God and discern God’s direction and guidance in their lives. Sometimes we evaluate learning from others as if we are always learning directly from God. But what we learn from others isn’t always from God or aligned with God’s Word. This is something that is discerned by the Spirit, with whom we should always be testing everything we receive (1 John 4:1, 1 Thessalonians 5:21) – whether prophecy, teaching, or experiences – and measuring it against God’s Word.

Responsibility

Responsibility is the most dangerous thing that comes with learning. It’s a kingdom principle that with knowledge and blessings come responsibility to steward them well before God. “When someone has been given much, much will be required in return; and when someone has been entrusted with much, even more will be required” (Luke 12:48, NLT).

Therein lies the danger of one-sided learning: acquiring knowledge without putting it into practice. This particularly applies to the West and to those of us who have grown up in Christian environments. Even so, having less does not exempt anyone from responsibility. There is so much available in my culture to resource people from books, to conferences, to social media content, to retreats to cohorts – any kind of content you want, you can find. I wonder sometimes what would happen to the church in the West if all of that was taken away. If all we were left with was the Word of God, the created world, and the people of God directed by God’s Spirit, would that be enough for us to learn?

I’m not saying we need to disregard all the resources out there, but my concern, even as I evaluate my own life, is how easily I can turn to other sources for growth and knowledge than the true Source. And more importantly, what am I doing with all I have learned and gained?

This is my challenge to you, dear brothers and sisters, in these tumultuous times, to, as Ephesians puts it, “no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ” (Ephesians 4:14-15). As we become continually transformed into the image of Christ, may our ability to learn together in all humility and integrity lead to greater discernment through the Spirit to know truth and display what it means to live our lives according to it.

This is the kingdom Jesus initiated, and this is our calling as the body of Christ: to flesh it out for the world to see.

—Larissa Swartz serves as chair of the Young Anabaptists (YABs) Committee (2015-2022). Currently, she is transitioning to New York City to be a part of a house church movement.

This article first appeared in Courier/Correo/Courrier October 2022.

Wednesday morning

Learning together to discern the will of God”: the first Christians were confronted with this challenge from the beginning. Indeed, “learning together to discern the will of God” is not mere wishful thinking! It is not a comfortable process. In fact, it is the major challenge of Christian life; of our personal lives as well as those of our local congregations.

To consider this challenge, I suggest returning to a fundamental moment in time, an original moment: the time when the disciples were called Christians: “The disciples were called Christians first at Antioch” (Acts 11:26).

To my great surprise, reading and meditating on this episode in the history of the church would force me to question what I believed I knew. This shift came when I observed that the period in which the name “Christian” was given to believers was anything but idyllic. It was not so much the context of persecution – or “distress” as described in the text – that was the most dangerous threat to the emerging Christian church. No, the most surprising thing for me was to realize that this beautiful moment, this moment when they received a “name,” moreover including the name of Christ, corresponded in reality to a situation wherein the major threat for the new believers was one of division, that of internal division.

On one hand, there is the community of Jerusalem, the mother community, the oldest and culturally Jewish. On the other, there is the Antioch community: culturally Greek and a younger and more dynamic community with greater growth and more visible fruit! So, on one side there are those who proclaim the Word exclusively to the Jews, and on the other side, those who proclaim the good news to the pagans, the Greeks.

Two styles: the elders close to tradition, and the younger ones, without a doubt more inventive and with greater freedom!

Thus, two ways of being and two evangelistic projects. In such a situation, how can they continue to learn together? How can they discern the will of God together?

From the beginning, the first Christians were painfully confronted with this challenge. We can apply this to our situation today: What do the Mennonites of present-day Europe – where Anabaptism first got started – have in common with the Mennonites of other continents, with the younger and more dynamic churches?

Let’s return to our story of the Acts of the Apostles: what are the reasons that schism did not take place, at least not at that moment, even though all the ingredients of division were present? What were the steps taken in the process of discernment?

First, we notice that the mother church (that of Jerusalem) chooses to send a man, Barnabas, who is not a high-profile individual, at least not then. It is the attitude of this man that is the decisive factor and will make the bonds unity possible: “When he arrived and saw what the grace of God had done, he was glad and encouraged them all…” (Acts 11:23)

So, Barnabas first begins by taking time to observe, not scrutinizing with judgment, but rather with a gaze of amazement. He is not afraid of newness! Without a doubt he saw all the risks that this young, dynamic community was facing, all the potential deviations, and rightly so, since otherwise Jerusalem would not have sent him. But his first impression is one of amazement of what he sees the other is experiencing, giving thanks for the fruits others are bearing.

This is the first step in the process: to have a vision of kindness and admiring the good in the other, the good in the church of the other. Wouldn’t the relationships between our countries and different cultures change if we dared to admire the other? Are Westerners ready to appreciate what is happening elsewhere and learn from others? Are we ready for this conversion of our perspectives?

Once again, let us return to our story! Barnabas is not blissfully optimistic for what is bearing fruit! True kindness, genuine goodness does not exclude the task of examining the truth which makes things firm. And so, in a second step, we see how Barnabas takes the initiative to go find Paul and bring him back to Antioch so that the two of them can teach this new, young community for one year.

There is, however, a small detail, which, in reality, is not a small one: Paul and Barnabas do not only have the role of teachers. It is said that they “met with the church” (Acts 11:26) They are not afraid to be “one among others”, to be on equal footing in a relationship of reciprocity where everyone takes part in the conversation. This happens over time; a one-year period, allowing them to build relationships and become familiar with the situation from the inside. This is the second step in the process.

Let us go back to the young church in Antioch. It is not afraid to welcome someone sent by the mother church, to accept being taught by a person coming from a community that is much less dynamic and apparently bearing less fruit. It is not afraid of accepting others.

But the story is not finished. The young church would, in turn, take care of the mother church. During a time of famine, it would organize a fundraiser and send money to Judea (Acts 11:27- 30). There is genuine reciprocity in this concrete care of one another

The moment when the believers receive the beautiful name “Christian,” is therefore the moment when they accept not to remain in their way of seeing, only depending on their ethnicity, their culture, or their local reality. “To learn together” is accepting the risk of crossing boundaries, because we belong to one and very same body, because “we are members one of another” (Romans 12:5).

We are of the same flesh, that of the Body of Christ.

—Anne-Cathy Graber is a Mennonite pastor and theologian and a consecrated sister in the Chemin Neuf community in Paris, France. She serves the MWC Faith and Life Commission as representative to the Global Christian Forum and the World Council of Church Faith and Order.

This article first appeared in Courier/Correo/Courrier October 2022.

Wednesday night

When he was 17, my grandfather was forced to fight in World War II (WWII). When I started talking about my plans to study peace and peace theology, he got a little upset. He said: “You talk about peace and war, but you don’t know what you’re talking about! When war comes, you don’t have any choice. There is nothing you can do!” At that time, I believed that what Western Europe was missing during World War II was good peace theology. Which we have now, so we’ll be fine. Or so I thought.

A few months ago (and about 80 years after WWII), war broke out in Ukraine. And while our brothers and sisters in Ukraine face the evils of war, many Mennonites in Western Europe are shocked by the nearness and the reality of war. Our many years of good peace theology are forgotten. We feel again like my grandfather felt: “There is nothing we can do”. Suddenly, for many peace-believing Christians, the only possible option is violent engagement. We affirmed nonviolence when our context was peaceful, but in the face of war we see nonviolent resistance as naive and unrealistic. We have many good peace theologians, but now what they were saying has become irrelevant. Today, we are afraid that war may overtake Europe. Suddenly our theology and our beliefs feel obsolete. A storm took over Europe, and our convictions collapsed. Storms tend to do that: they break the things that we thought were solid and strong.

The Scripture we read today is the closing argument of the Sermon on the Mount. This sermon is a collection of teachings of Jesus, addressed to people living in difficult times. At that time, Palestine was under Roman occupation, and the Jews struggled under the oppression of a violent regime. Heavy taxation, forced labour and sexual abuse were part of their daily life. Yet, Jesus calls them, the people oppressed by imperial Rome, to collectively love their enemies and to not resist the evildoer. And he warns them that this will be really hard to do, and that they may pay it with their lives.

Somehow, the crowds seem to like what they hear. “Wow, Jesus sure has a lot of charisma, see how he teaches! The authority!” Jesus probably knows that many of his listeners are just curious. They’re here to see what the fuss is about, to listen, discuss, comment… and they won’t act on his teachings or practise them. But a storm is coming that will put all their ideas and beliefs to the test. For the people sitting on the mount and listening to Jesus, the war with Rome is about to get a lot worse. For Matthew’s readers, persecution will afflict those who decide to follow the Way of Christ. And these storms will break some of the opinions and beliefs that felt so very solid.

However, there is a way for beliefs to survive the storm. Jesus talks about two houses, one built on rock, the other on sand. The storm came for both. “The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house”, but one house fell and the other one did not. The difference between the two houses is their foundation. The foundation of the house is not believing or not in Jesus. Jesus tells us that the rock foundations are the practice of his words.

In the story he tells, both men have heard the words of Jesus, but only the wise man acted on them. Other translations have “put them into practice.” It’s acting on the words of Jesus, again and again, day in and day out, that prepares us for the storm. Because the storm will come anyway. There’s only one way for us to stand firm in the storm: practise! Practise the love of enemies, practise nonviolent resistance, practice disarming the oppressor without harming the oppressor. This is something we can all practise together.

If we practise together, we learn together. Before I was a pastor, I was an occupational therapist. The core idea in occupational therapy is that the brain and the body learn by doing. When we do something new, neurons in our body connect in new ways. When we repeat and practise, the connections grow stronger. After a while, we can do that new thing in different situations, without having to think about it anymore.

When we practise, we learn. That also means that if we want to learn, we need to practise. In theory, I believe I could run a marathon. But I’ll only be able to do it if I practise running. The same goes for a radical peace witness, or nonviolent resistance. In Western Europe, when we Mennonites talk about peace, we spend a lot of time talking about how we should act in different situations. And most of the time, that’s all we do. When the war actually comes, that’s when we should start doing what we’ve been discussing. But the middle of the storm is not the right time to learn how to act.

Don’t wait for the storm to figure out if your foundation is solid. Make sure it is. How? With practice! Mennonites are used to hearing calls to nonviolent resistance at Assembly.

At the 1967 MWC Assembly in Amsterdam, Vincent Harding called on Mennonites to come alongside our Black sisters and brothers in the freedom struggle, to come alongside the many revolutionary movements around the world.

At the 1984 Assembly in Strasbourg, Ron Sider urged the church to develop a highly trained peacemaking task force – which sparked the creation of Community Peacemakers Team.

But most of us have stayed on the sidelines, where things are comfortable. In a nice little house on the beach.

What does it look like to practise love of the enemy on a collective level in our time and place? It may very well look like nonviolent war resistance. Maybe Mennonites could prepare for war resistance with an “anti-military service,” like a nonviolent resistance boot camp. Nations prepare for war with military service. There is first-aid training for emergency health care. It might be time for us to create a widespread training for regular church people to learn and practise the basics of civil resistance.

Some people do and will commit their whole life to nonviolent peacemaking, and we desperately need people like that. But we also need a foundation of practice for the whole church.

In most of Europe, we have more experience in discussion and debate than we do in activism, war resistance, revolution or social change. We need the help of the global church if we want to find our footing in the field of practice. We know that we have brothers and sisters who have experience in nonviolent resistance. Please train us. Practise with us. So we can learn together. That’s how we’ll hold fast when the storms come.

—Salomé Haldemann is a trained occupational therapist and a graduate of theology and peace studies at Anabaptist Mennonite Biblical Seminary, Elkhart, Indiana, USA. She interns as a pastor of Eglise Evangélique Mennonite de Béthel, Neuf-Brisach, France.

This article first appeared in Courier/Correo/Courrier October 2022.

Tuesday night

Jesus is exhausted, frustrated probably! He recently planned a retreat with his disciples, but clamouring crowds get in the way. So, he spends a full day teaching and organizing food for 5 000 people.

Next comes a night of prayer and then a stroll across the Sea of Galilee. He sees his disciples struggling against the wind. His plan is to walk past them and reveal his divine identity, but they completely miss the point. So, he miraculously calms the storm, and sighs that they just don’t understanding anything!

Then comes a heated confrontation with narrow-minded religious leaders and a disappointing conversation with his dullminded disciples (Jesus’s words, not mine!).

He needs a break. So, he heads for the nearest resort town on the Mediterranean Coast – something like a beach resort on the coast of California, or Bali, or Tenerife or Rio. Again, his plans are foiled: (I quote) “He did not want anyone to know it; yet he could not keep his presence secret!”

Did you notice how the human and divine aspects of Jesus intertwine in this section of Mark’s Gospel? Jesus miraculously multiplies loaves, walks on water, identifies himself as “I AM.” Yet he’s tired, frustrated, unable to follow through on carefully made plans.

“Jesus is the centre of our faith.”

• the human Jesus, who learned and lived and served and suffered and experienced all sorts of human limitations, as we all do.
• the divine Jesus, who exists from all eternity as the second person of the Trinity, creator of heaven and earth, worthy of all honour and worship as GOD!

This “divine-human Jesus” is the centre of our faith.

The faithful church has always confessed that Jesus is fully human and fully divine. That is the mystery we call “the Incarnation”: God becoming a human person, uniting forever in the person of Jesus, divinity and humanity.

The Incarnation is the greatest barrier-crossing event in the history of the universe. In Jesus, the barrier has been crossed between eternity and time, spirit and matter, Creator and creation. And because of this, we can be confident that the great barrier still separating God and God’s faithful people will one day be gone forever.

After the great barrier-crossing event we call “Incarnation,” Jesus just kept right on crossing barriers: between rich and poor, powerful and powerless, male and female, sacred and secular, clean and unclean, Jew and Gentile.

Because Jesus is fully divine and fully human, we do well to explore Gospel narratives with two questions in mind:

1. What does Jesus, the incarnate Jesus, God in the flesh, reveal to us about what God is like? and,

2. What does Jesus, the fully human Jesus, reveal about how we should relate to God and to each other?

In many texts, the divine aspects of Jesus seem to be in the forefront. In Mark’s text about Jesus and the Syrophoenician woman, the human aspects shine through pretty clearly

God in the flesh cannot even keep his presence secret. A woman shows up – a very unlikely candidate for Jesus’s ministry. A woman, a Gentile, a Syrophoenician; the nearest biblical equivalent would be Queen Jezebel! Jesus is not amused. And if we don’t listen carefully, it sounds as though Jesus simply insults her! “What? Throw good food to a dog? No way!”

Wait! What? Is this Jesus talking? If that is all we hear, we are not listening carefully. It is true that Jews sometimes called Gentiles “dogs! (kunes).” Not house pets: wild, unclean, dogs that roam the streets. Yet Jesus here uses a different word! If your translation doesn’t make that obvious, check the footnotes. He refers to (kunaria), puppies, “dear little puppies,” house pets surrounding “the kids” who are eating at the table. The text sounds quite different already, doesn’t it? And note that Jesus does not actually call her a puppy; he’s using a metaphor! And did you notice that in English I just called the children little goats? (That’s what “kids” actually means!)

Jesus’s metaphor is not designed to be offensive, any more than mine was. He’s not demeaning her. He knows that one day Gentiles will be fully equal partners with the Jews in the people of God.

The real problem with this text is not that Jesus talks about puppies; it is that Jesus denies her request! “I’m on vacation! It is not a good time. Sorry, your request is denied!” But again, let’s listen more carefully. “First, let the children eat all they want.”

“First…” Jesus is not saying, “No”; he is saying “Not, yet!” Some things need to happen first! Jesus knows the divine plan for the salvation of the world, “First the Jew, then the Gentile.” First the blessing to Abraham and his descendants, then through them to the rest of the world. Jesus came to save the whole world! That is why he starts with Israel, recruiting and training those he will commission to spread the good news to the ends of the earth!

And this spunky, persistent, faith-filled woman agrees! “Yes! Yes, Lord! First, the children! So, I won’t ask for a seat at the table … not yet! I’ll just wait for a tiny crumb to fall from the table now already. That’s all I’ll need!” Her clever and faith-filled response is enough to make Jesus change his mind!

Martin Luther put it this way: “Behind Jesus’s ‘No,’ she heard God’s secret ‘Yes.’”

Jesus did not come to Tyre to do ministry, but he ends up doing it. Jesus did not plan to start ministering to Gentiles, not yet, but he ends up doing exactly that. Jesus has his plans in place, but he changes his mind. Or maybe we should say she changes his mind.

In fact, she does even more than that. She becomes the instrument through whom Jesus learns which “next step” he should take in doing his Father’s will.

Why should that surprise us? He is showing us how to be responsive to the needs of others – others whom God will often use to help us discover our own ministry calling. Jesus is showing us what our redeemed humanity ought to look like. At the same time, this is a portrait of what God is like, hearing the pleading cries of those in need, breaking through the barriers in a response of generous grace.

May we learn from Jesus what God is truly like, crafting a plan to save the world, working in time and space to bring that plan to its glorious fulfillment and pouring out grace on individuals all along the way. May we learn from Jesus what we are called to be, barrier crossers who minister God’s grace to others. And may we learn from the Syrophoenician woman what it takes to cross barriers, reaching out in courageous faith to connect with the heart of Jesus, the divine-human Jesus, who is the centre of our faith.

And may all that we do in these next four days together – listening, praying, singing, worshipping and celebrating the diversity of God’s family – give us glimpses of what Jesus is doing among us, and around the world that he came to save.

—Timothy J. Geddert is a professor of New Testament at Fresno Pacific University (Biblical Seminary) in Fresno, California, USA. He is a member of North Fresno Mennonite Brethren Church, California, USA.

This article first appeared in Courier/Correo/Courrier October 2022.