Closing Comments: Case Studies

If you would like to comment on the June topic as a whole, please do so below.

Jeff Sessions and Generational Trauma

Reading the other author’s posts in this series I’ve appreciated how much we have in common in our sense of the role that faith institutions play in the political realm. I especially appreciated the post in reference to Jeff Sessions’ application of Romans 13 because it demonstrated the idea that faith institutions aren’t merely inserting themselves into politics from the outside but elected officials themselves are often people of faith, acting on instincts handed down from prior generations. The Romans 13 citation from Sessions also highlighted that there is an expectation that scripture and faith traditions have something to contribute to policy decisions and that they can play a role in shaping debates.

Pastor Will wasn’t the only person to take notice of Sessions’ Romans 13 comment. The Franciscan Action Network along with the Interfaith Immigration Coalition also joined together to organize a statement with dozens of faith institutions signing on. Their statement, below, picks up on some of the same sentiments as Pastor Will:

“Let us be clear; the Administration’s border enforcement tactics are, immoral, inhumane and unnecessary. It is an affront to religious faith that Administration officials are using the Bible to rationalize and validate these immoral actions. As it was in the eras of slavery and legal segregation, this perverse misuse of sacred scripture once again appears to be designed specifically to single out people of color.

Children should not be forcibly taken away from their parents; they and their parents should not be subject to inhumane conditions… …We are called to ‘welcome the stranger’ and to ‘love our neighbors,’ and as a nation of immigrants we should be ashamed. The Bible is unambiguous in the call to love God and love our neighbor as St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans tells us: ‘Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.’ (Romans 13:10 New International Version)”

I also appreciated Nathan’s thoughts on the inescableness of politics wherever we are, including in worship, combined with the idea that worship is a place where people are looking for healing and assurance and not a place to, as he said, feel bad about themselves. The challenge with this expectation, as Will and Nathan both mentioned in their own ways, is that if we are talking about healing and assurance at a surface level my ‘feeling good’ might be in conflict with yours. Faith and politics intersect on the level of speaking for justice in a given moment, like in the case of the family separations, but they also intersect in the sense that the church’s response will influence deeper value systems that will shape politics into the future–obviously sensing these shifts can be a source of discomfort.

In the summer of 2017 the CRC received a report to Synod on the Doctrine of Discovery. The Doctrine of Discovery is a series of papal bulls or declarations from the pope in the 15th Century. These papal statements gave European rulers official church sanction to claim a right of discovery over lands not held by Europeans and Christians. Some of the recommendations in the report that were not adopted because they brought up pain in the CRC, not just in recognizing the heritage of our Christian ancestors, condoning the claiming of another’s land in the 15th century, but in revisiting our own CRC missions to Native American people in the Southwest in the early and mid 1900’s and the damage done through those missions.

The learning that I’m taking away from this conversation is that our choices on how the church interacts in the political realm are extremely important because they have long consequences–both on people’s freedom from injustice now and on who the church will be as a people of God in the future. The choices of the church in the 15th century impacted the CRC’s choices in the early 1900’s and those choices are source of pain in our church to this day. Choosing to keep the politics of separated kids out of the church will probably contribute to ongoing trauma for those kids and it will traumatize the value systems of the next generation of the church.


 

Gratitude, immigrants, and our brother Jeff Sessions

As a final case study from our small church, I would like to present a sermon I gave on June 17th, 2018. Our fellowship observes communion about once a month, and this was given right before communion. The greater context was the news of that week: President Trump and Attorney General Jeff Sessions had hardened their immigration policy on the US-Mexico border, and begun detaining immigrants, even those guilty of the misdemeanor of entering U.S. soil for the first time, separating the children of these immigrants, and taking the children into custodial care, and removing them far from the parents, in some cases. Attorney General Sessions attempted to justify this action to his fellow church members as an application of Romans 13.

This is an unusual sermon for me, in that it’s a bit more “political” (that is, in this case, responding to a political issue in the news) and much less exegetical (we usually follow the lectionary, and I usually preach from one of the lectionary passages). But Sessions’s use of Scripture to justify his actions, and the acts of separating children from their parents seemed to call out for a response.

Gratitude, immigrants, and our brother Jeff Sessions

Kalamazoo Mennonite Fellowship
Will Fitzgerald
June 17, 2018

I want to talk to you this morning about three things: Gratitude, immigration, and our brother Jeff Sessions, the attorney general of the United States.

Let’s start with Brother Jeff. I call him “brother” because he is my, our, brother in Christ. He is a member in good standing at the Ashland Place United Methodist Church in Mobile. Alabama. He professes to follow Jesus, and it’s always been important to me to take, at least usually, people at their word.

As attorney general, Brother Jeff has cracked down hard on what he sees as violations of immigration laws and policies. Most recently, he has led the effort to detain adults crossing into the United States without permission, and even the detainment of adults who are seeking asylum in the US. He’s also come out strongly in favor of limiting which kinds of asylum seekers will be even have their cases heard. The detainment of adults has meant that children who have come with those adults have been separated from their families. We have reliable news reports that over 2000 children have been taken away from their parents in a recent six-week period, and this is ongoing. This happened to some extent even under the previous administration, but previously, asylum seekers especially were allowed to remain in the community, with their children, while they awaited hearings. That policy has been derided by the current administration as “catch and release,” and stricter, harsher policies put in place.

Brother Jeff justified the taking of children away from their parents by quoting the “wise words” of the apostle Paul in Romans 13 were that we should “obey the government.” In Brother Jeff’s mind, it seems to be a fairly simple argument: people should not seek to enter the United States illegally, or perhaps even to seek asylum here. We don’t want ‘em, if they come, they’ll suffer the consequences of being separated from their children. It’s not our fault, but theirs. If they would just do the right and lawful thing, they would be ok. (The attorney general and the president blames the Democrats, for what it’s worth).

Well.

There are so many things wrong with Brother Jeff’s exegesis. First, it is apparently against international law to threaten people to not seek asylum. Note: I am not an expert in international law. So, is he being disobedient to the Paul’s wise words? I’m sure he’d say no, and fight vigorously for the rights of the United States in international court. This is how the law, in the twenty-first century, works. Obedience to the government in these days is to follow, but also to challenge, through the court systems, the laws of government.

And second, to think that Paul’s “wise words” are a statement to obey the government in all cases is ridiculous on its face. Paul is writing to the church in Rome, but it’s important to remember that many of his letters were written from Rome, while under arrest from Rome. Even Paul didn’t heed Paul’s wise words. Which is to say, they can’t mean what Brother Jeff claimed they mean. Elsewhere, Paul says we should try to live peaceably if we are able, and he and the other early Christians showed, by their example, the importance of disobedience at times. And, as we saw in the example of Jesus a few weeks ago, Jesus broke the law by “working” on the Sabbath. Jesus said the Sabbath was made for humanity, not humanity for the Sabbath. And I think it’s a good natural extension to say that laws and government are made for humanity, not humanity for laws and government.

Thirdly, when Brother Jeff was asked to justify the government’s actions, he did not justify the government’s actions, but put the burden on immigrants to obey. He is the policy maker and policy enforcer. Even if it were the case that we should always obey the government (and, as we have seen, it is not), if one is in a position to set policy and set enforcement, the question really is to ask whether those policies and enforcement actions are justified. Brother Jeff, like us, seek to serve a Lord who was wrongly crucified under cruel enforcement of government policy. Jesus was “obedient unto death,” but woe to those who set the policies and enforced those policies that led to his death! But also: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

Now, oddly, I want to talk about gratitude.

I have been reading Diana Butler Bass’s new book, called Gratitude, and it’s helped me to understand some things about our current administration and it has evoked some thoughts about ways to live under this administration. Like Bass, gratitude is not the first thing I think of when I think about the current chaotic and divided state of our society. But Bass has written some very interesting and useful things, some of which can help us to understand the Roman Empire under which Paul lived, and can help us to understand the current empire under which we live.

I hope I can do justice to what she says. In the days of the Romans, the top of the heap, of course, was the Caesar. He was uniquely blessed, and from him would flow all the blessings. The closer you were to the top of the heap, the more blessed and valued you were, deriving your blessings from those above you, and flowing down to those below you. And you were required to be grateful. And gratitude wasn’t a matter of just saying “thank you.” It meant cold, hard cash. To not pay your taxes made you an ingrate. As Bass writes, “Gratitude was not an attitude. It was a political requirement.”

Of course, with blessings flowing down (meaning favors that resulted in some kind of benefit) and gratitude flowing up (meaning taxes being paid), people were skimming those benefits along the way. Someone like Zacchaeus in the gospel story is a perfect example. He extracted taxes from those around him in return for a cut of the collection and a higher standing in the empire.

And there is something like this happening with President Trump. The son of a rich man grown even richer, he expects gratitude both in words and benefits. As a modern American Caesar, he expects praise, and sees it as his right to decide where largess flows. It’s why he can praise the Korean dictator Kim for having people obey and respect him. They have both successfully achieved the top spot, and he thinks we owe him the gratitude of obedience. This is not the only thing going on of course (I’m pretty sure he also wants to open hotels in North Korea), but Brother Jeff’s statements make more sense in this light. President Trump will set the rules, and we owe him this kind of gratitude.

But Jesus says (and Bass reminds us) that the ones who are blessed are actually the poor and the mournful. (You know as soon as she started talking about the Beatitudes, I would sit up and pay attention). In God’s economy, in God’s kingdom, privilege belongs to people like that, not people whom we call privileged.

“A voice is heard in Ramah, Rachel crying for her children” (Jeremiah 31). And voices are heard in Texas, Raquel and Maria and Carlos crying for their children, torn away from them by agents of the United States, agents who represent us. We, far away, see their poverty and their mourning, and we should ask, how can we be God’s blessing to them? Because we surely want to be part of God’s work and welcome and healing in the world. And God’s promise is also for us: when we make peace or hunger and thirst for righteousness, we too are privileged.

One small thing we can do is to simply state, as a church, that we stand with immigrant parents and children, and against those who would tear them apart.

Another set of things we can do is to contact our representatives in Congress, and the White House, and state our position to them. I have a sheet of paper to pass out with steps you can take, if you are interested.

Another thing we might do is explore taking some more steps, as a church, to welcome and stand with immigrants. I have some ideas about that, in particular contacting our friends at Bethany Christian Services and perhaps the local organization called Moviemento Consecha to see what kind of monetary support might be useful to flow through them. If anyone has time and energy and a vision for this, please let me know.

We also can pray for the children and parents who have been caught in this terrible situation. And we should pray for our brother, Jeff Sessions, and for the president for a change of heart. Honestly, I don’t have much faith in doing so (it’s not even mustard-seed sized), but we are called to do so anyway.

And we can be a community of gratitude. Truly grateful people are protected, at least somewhat, from the despair of living in a terribly broken world. Truly grateful people can open themselves up in welcome to neighbors and strangers in need because they know they will be cared for. Truly grateful people provide an alternative to the fears of missing out, of being cheated, of not getting what we need.

As we go into communion, I am reminded of a phrase often used in a communion service: “the gifts of God for the people of God.” Let us receive God’s gifts with grateful hearts, remembering our communion is with the poor and the mourning, and communion with our Lord who was poor and mournful himself. And, afterwards, let us remember to carry that communion and sense of gratitude into the rest of our lives.

Counting the Cost of Ministry Together

I am grateful for having read Will Fitzgerald’s post regarding the ministry at work in the Kalamazoo Mennonite Fellowship.  I have an immense amount of respect for small church ministry – I cut my teeth doing ministry in small group settings. I have found that the smaller the church, the more intense the relationships and the deeper the discipleship.  It is incredibly challenging to get more than a handful of congregationalists to agree on nearly anything. Small churches likely represent the future of the church in America and we ought to live into their example.

A concern that I have for all churches (large and small) that is highlighted by the articles posted by my peers is as follows: what is the substantial difference between participating in church and living a Christian life?  In other words, is church membership sufficient for transformational ministry or is it merely a supplement to following the Way of Jesus?  Our identity as a congregationalist church can become a hindrance when we selfishly fail to address the larger reality of the greater church in the world.  As Kris Van Engen helpfully points out, occasionally we are blindsided by circumstances beyond our control, or outside of our scope of understanding, when we act upon the world instead of within the world.  God, in Jesus Christ, was fully enmeshed in the world.  The Mennonite Fellowship is, perhaps, living into the very identity that God has called them to, and this may include a certain level of critical distance from politics for the good of the world.  If all theology is usurped by political posturing we’ve made a hash of a wonderful gift – namely, the living Bible.

Will suggests that our congregation, despite her firsts, has likely missed the mark in her two centuries of Christian labor.  I completely agree! I will give one absolutely glaring example. I am the 29th Senior Minister. I am a white man – as has been every single Senior Minister to come before me.  This is a product of the biases of the congregation – because it is certainly not a product of a lack of qualified candidates who identify as women or persons of color.

I do want to gently push back against Will’s concern over our activity in “identity politics.” Many in our congregation were created by God with identities that, like the Ethiopian Eunuch, or the Hemorrhaging Woman, or the Gerasene Demoniac, are considered “unclean,” or “undesirable,” or, worse, “criminal” by our larger society.  Their identities can occasionally get them killed. So we view identity politics through the lens of Matthew 25:40.

I don’t find myself particularly surprised that the three of us seem to substantially agree on nearly all of these issues.  When you spend your life immersed in the gospel of Jesus Christ the differences begin the get a bit fuzzy around the edges. Much of the disagreement in the church in America is a product, I believe, of untrained pastors and celebrities attempting to seize power by “othering” different Christians.  Observe, today, that the leadership of Christian denominations as diverse as the Roman Catholic Church, the Southern Baptist Convention, the Church of Jesus Christ (Latter Day Saints), and my own beloved denomination, the United Church of Christ, have each independently released statements decrying the inhumane treatment of children on our Southern Border by the agents of Immigration and Customs Enforcement.

My greatest unanswered question has to do with sacrifice.  I honor and celebrate the sacrifices made by the missionaries in Kris’ post.  It sets my heart on fire – I think missionaries make an incredible sacrifice. Or the sacrifice made by turning one’s own home into a church.  What is God calling on the church in America to sacrifice, today? I’m not sure. But the church will remain strong for generations, of this I am most certain.


 

Transformational Advocacy

In 2012 the Office of Social Justice (OSJ) coordinated hundreds of letters to encourage Christian Indonesian immigrants who were living in Highland Park Reformed Church to avoid deportation. We also coordinated hundreds of letters to Congress, urging legislation that would allow these Christians, who came to the U.S. fleeing persecution, to gain legal permanent residence in the United States.

Highland Park Reformed Church started sharing their building with an Indonesian congregation in the late 1990s—not for immigration sanctuary but as a shared space where both congregations could worship. Members of the Indonesian congregation had recently left their predominantly Muslim country at that time and arrived in the U.S. on tourist visas which were offered as means of quick escape from the danger they were in as members of a minority religion in their home country. Once in the U.S. they had a year to apply for permanent asylum but many say they were unaware the necessity of that crucial step. Because they never adjusted their status, when their first year ended they were living here illegally and the window for a chance at permanent legal status was officially closed.

Later in 2002, after the September 11 terrorist attacks, male foreign visitors, mostly from predominantly Muslim countries, were asked to register with a program called the National Security Entry-Exit Registration System, or NSEERS.  Since Indonesia was on the list, the men from this church consulted with their own pastor and the pastor of the Highland Park church and made the decision to come forward and be registered. They believed this could be an opportunity to repair their legal status but that didn’t happen. Instead they found themselves on the radar of immigration enforcement. ICE raids were carried out and dozens of members of the church were deported. Leaders from both Congregations met together to make a plan to try to find a way to stop the deportations.

They managed to work out an agreement with ICE to allow undocumented Indonesians with no criminal record to live and work in the community if they checked in regularly but that was a temporary solution and within months the deportation raids started again. The only permanent solution would be an amendment to U.S. immigration law that would allow them to apply for asylum even though they were outside of the one year window. Without that change to the law there could be temporary waivers and discretion by ICE to not prosecute certain cases but they would still be a precarious situation without true legal status.

Attorneys from the church drafted sample legislation that their Congressperson could introduce to the House of Representatives. The Highland Park pastor shared the story throughout the U.S. and brought more churches on board to join in doing advocacy and raising awareness about the situation. Church members, including followers of the OSJ, sent letters and set up meetings with their own members of Congress and dozens of Representatives joined to cosponsor the legislation. Unfortunately, the legislation was never adopted and a permanent solution still hasn’t been enacted so the New Jersey church continues to show hospitality and to advocate for justice. The Highland Park congregation made a decision to stand with the Indonesian congregation and to this day they are continuing to share God’s love by sharing both their building and their voices of influence.

Biblical justice flows out of ministries of word and deed                                      

A similar story of advocacy flowing out of ministry starts in Sierra Leone where Christian Reformed World Relief Committee (now known as World Renew) and Christian Reformed Church World Missions (now known as Resonate Global Mission) began doing integrated community development work in the early-1980s. They were using the latest in community development theories and practice and they were seeing real results in terms of increased ag yields, increased savings for families to survive through lean years and decreasing rates of poverty and hunger. Fifteen years into the project, after seeing gains and opportunities to continue scaling the project up in neighboring regions, all of the progress was destroyed.

Peter Vander Meulen, the West Africa coordinator for CRWRC at the time wrote, “in the short time of a week or two, huge damage had been done to the 15 years of work and millions of dollars in investment. Buildings were burned. Villagers killed, abused, fleeing for their lives. CRWRC and CRWM Sierra Leonian pastors and staff were scattered to the four winds – fled over the Ginuea border or gone to Freetown – away from rebel held areas.”

In the months that followed, Vander Meulen and Sierra Leone staff analyzed what might have been missed in the careful planning, millions of dollars spent and years of investment. This wasn’t the first time that CRWRC’s work was stopped by rebels. It was a problem that was encountered in neighboring countries in the past but this was the first time that a project with such scale and planning faced this kind of devastation. The question on everyone’s minds was, “with all that we had to offer these communities is there nothing that could have been done to prevent this?” Pushed out of the country and away from the people they loved they turned their energy towards investigating the systemic factors behind the violence more closely. They were experiencing the reality of a third movement in the theory of giving a person a fish—give a fish and eat for a day, teach to fish and eat for a lifetime unless there is no access to the pond.   

Vander Meulen writes, “We were still engaged in our mission to Sierra Leone; still trying to get our arms around that country in church planting and integrated rural development; still serving the Kuranko people. It was mission by advocacy. We were using our influence as citizens of the most powerful country in the world in concerted action with others of like intention to change a corrupt global diamond marketing system, a system that was fueling West African warlords’ greed for money and power. It was clear that without stopping the illicit trade in diamonds there would be no peace, no development, and no CRC church planting in Sierra Leone.”

 

Missionaries who were once on the ground in Sierra Leone now placed themselves on the ground in Washington DC. They lobbied members of Congress and testified before committees. At the same time CRC members throughout the U.S. raised local awareness. This was one of the OSJ’s first major advocacy projects. Vander Meulen writes, “Over the two-and-a-half year campaign to bring our governments to agreement on what was called ‘The Kimberly Accords’, the CRC repeatedly used its small but strategic influence to help. Several small groups of church members visited their local diamond stores to simply ask: ‘Can you assure us that the diamonds you sell do not come from illicit sources? Are not ‘blood diamonds’? How can you be sure? Visits like this soon turned the diamond industry into allies. And our lone CRC congressman from West Michigan, Vern Ehlers, became a champion of the Kimberly Accords in the US House of Representatives.”

 

Following implementation of the Kimberly Accords the entire country of Sierra Leone experienced progress beyond what the CRC was originally able to accomplish in those individual communities where they had started working. For these communities ‘knowing how to fish’ wasn’t the end of poverty—it was about access to the pond and transparent conditions of the pond.

Currently, the Kimberley Process is losing effectiveness due to lack of enforcement but the progress that was made cannot be undone. Sierra Leone and other countries like it had the time to institute their own internal controls on diamond mining. There is still work to do on other abused commodities, such as precious metals in the Congo, but if we are willing to learn from the lessons of our own short history we could use our influence to push back on the unchecked abuse of power by those who control these resources.

In a representative government where elected officials determine laws after listening to the input of all impacted sectors it makes sense for non-profit agencies, including churches, to give voice to the concerns that touch the lives of the people with whom they work. For the CRC, work like lobbying for the Kimberly Accords rests on an even deeper ethic than this. We believe in a Biblical call to work towards peace and justice. We see through redeemed eyes the possibility of flourishing for all people and we believe in sharing that vision with publicly—which includes shining a light on systems of oppression.

The CRC has adapted several statements that beautifully express our call to be agents of change in the political realm:

 

Our World Belongs to God Article 52

“We obey God first; we respect the authorities that rule, for they are established by God: we pray for our rulers, and we work to influence governments—resisting them only when Christ and conscience demand.”

 

Our World Belongs to God Article 53

“We call on all governments to do public justice and to protect the rights and freedoms of individuals, groups and institutions so that each may do their tasks. We urge governments and pledge ourselves to safeguard children and the elderly from abuse and exploitation, to bring justice for the poor and oppressed, and to promote the freedom to speak, work, worship and associate. We call on our governments to work for peace and to restore just relationships.”

 

Charge to Deacons, CRC Ordination Liturgy

“Be prophetic critics of waste, injustice and selfishness in our society, and be sensitive counselors to the victims of such evils.”

 

Belhar Confession

“That the church must therefore stand by people in any form of suffering and need, which implies, among other things, that the church must witness against and strive against any form of justice, so that justice may roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”

 

Heidelberg Catechism Q&A 107

Q. Is it enough then that we do not murder our neighbor in any such way?

A. No. By condemning envy, hatred, and anger God wants us to love our neighbors as ourselves, to be patient, peace-loving, gentle, merciful, and friendly towards them, to protect them from harm as much as we can and to do good even to our enemies.

Immigration and Creation Care Advocacy

The CRC has also made statements on specific biblical justice issues that intersect with the realm of politics. These include the sanctity of human life, religious persecution, immigration and climate change.

On the topic of Immigration synod directed the OSJ to create educational resources for churches and to advocate for comprehensive immigration reform. Even though immigration is a topic that makes headlines there tends to be a lack of awareness about how the immigration system works and what it takes to immigrate legally to the U.S. To overcome this lack of awareness the OSJ does immigration simulation workshops with interested congregations. The simulation gives participants the bio of an individual who hopes to live and work permanently in the U.S. With their bio in hand the participants walk around the room to try to find a visa for which they could successfully apply. For everyone who hasn’t had a lot of experience with our immigration system there are usually lightbulb moments. They discover the connections between the broken spots of our immigration system—like the fact that 70% of all U.S. farm workers do not have legal status—and how the system actually works, in this case how it is nearly impossible for a potential immigrant farm worker with a job offer in the U.S. to meet the requirements needed to earn a visa. This first step doesn’t always result in a consensus on solutions but it does lead to more civil conversation and more respect for immigrants because people are speaking from the same set of facts.

Like any workshop that exposes a previously unknown crisis, participants then ask, “what can I do about this?” The OSJ’s response to that question goes back to the statement on immigration from Synod and back to that deeper call to be a people who expose injustice. Along with faith-based coalitions like the Evangelical Immigration Table and Interfaith Immigration Alliance we share resources to empower members of the CRC to advocate in the public square for immigration reform that keeps families together. There are strong opponents to calls for more humane immigration laws so progress is a challenge but every time we see significant reforms come close to clearing the final hurdle we also see our numbers grow. When we started working on immigration in late 2010 we did about 15 workshops in one year and advocacy alerts would get about 50-100 people sending a message to their Congressperson. This year we’ve convened over 50 workshops, advocacy alerts have had over 1,000 participants and we’ve had several in person meetings between CRC members and their elected officials.      

Our climate change work takes a similar approach but engages more directly with individuals in congregations who are then empowered to set their own course for their church’s activity. Individuals sign up to be part of a campaign called the Climate Witness Project (CWP). Then, when a congregation has three or more people signed up regional organizers from CWP connect with those individuals to share resources and ideas based around four main pillars of the project: (1) worship, (2) education, (3) advocacy and (4) energy stewardship. We also send out a monthly newsletter with updates and we organize national level advocacy opportunities that all CWP members can get involved with on their own or as a church.                                                          

Transformational Advocacy

I wouldn’t describe the OSJ’s work as ‘redeeming the political system’ because politics isn’t our focus but I would say we are seeking, along with CRC congregations and ministries, to be faithful actors within the system; especially when it comes to standing in solidarity with groups whose voices are being marginalized. Neighbors and members of the Church have experienced oppression throughout her history in various forms and that marginalization continues to this day—so we advocate for change. Micah Challenge, of whom the CRC is a member organization defines transformational advocacy as, “Challenging ourselves and leaders to change attitudes, behaviors, and policies that perpetuate injustice and deny God’s will for all creation to flourish.” Because the Church is a body of people with so many backgrounds who have such of range of experiences of privilege and oppression, we are in a unique position to be examples of how to engage in the public square. Hopefully, our transformational advocacy work leads to systems of human flourishing and brings a value added of faithfully demonstrating the value of political engagement that amplifies voices from the margins.

 

Joyful Engagement

Note: We were asked to respond to our co-discussants by June 10; I am writing on June 7, unfortunately without access to the essay from the Christian Reformed Church Office of Social Justice. But I do have Nathan Dannison’s delightful post, and so I will respond to that.

Agreements: What can you affirm about the approaches that have been taken by First Congregational Church of Kalamazoo?

First, I will tell my favorite story about First Congregational Church.

My wife was confirmed at First Presbyterian Church, another one of the “downtown churches” that sit on Bronson Park, our town square. Later, her family moved to a smaller Presbyterian congregation, North Presbyterian Church, on the integrated North side of Kalamazoo, where she became a member. Much later, after we were married, we moved to Kalamazoo and became members there together. North Presbyterian was a wonderful congregation, with a strong gospel witness, great Bible teaching, active participation in the community, and a membership where a third to a half of the congregation had diagnosed mental illnesses. It was always a bit of a poor relation to the downtown church, and eventually had to leave its building.

But First Congregational Church, in addition to its main sanctuary, has a sizable chapel. Their welcoming hearts extended to North Presbyterian, and North meets in their chapel, without charge. North has been able to continue to meet because of the generosity of First Congregational. Isn’t that a bit amazing?

I heartily admire their stance of welcome. “Welcome” appears on their church’s home page eight times, and the website allwelcome.church leads you there. As I wrote in my initial essay, I am delighted that they have decided to be a Public Sanctuary Church and take in Saheeda Nadeem as part of that welcome, as we have welcomed immigrants into our own home/church.

As the pastor of a small church, I am grateful that some churches have enough time, talent, buildings, and money to put on larger events that we can participate in. And also I am glad for the way that First Congregational Church blurs the line between what is political, and what is just being loving to our neighbor. Putting a “Black Lives Matter” poster up might be viewed as solely a political act, helping with direct cash assistance might be viewed as solely almsgiving, but we both know that noticing that lives matter is an act of love, and that almsgiving can be a transgressive, political act.

Disagreements: What concerns do you have about the approaches that have been taken by First Congregational Church? What key questions do you think First Congregational Church has avoided or have not addressed adequately?

In my essay, I stated my belief that individual churches have different gifts, or charisms, and I believe it is First Congregational Church’s charism to be a progressive Christian church, and I am glad they are who they are.

As Nathan writes, they sometimes struggle to remain Christian as well as progressive, and he writes about three incidents. First was his statement that some in the congregation are willing to knock on doors for Bernie Sanders but would refuse to knock on doors for Jesus Christ. Second was his story of some who would prefer Sunday morning to focus on “raising awareness” rather than on joyful worship. And third was his story of the dissenters who came expecting a new home for like-minded progressives. Very much to Nathan’s, and First Congregational Church’s, credit, all of these resulted in challenging the underlying assumptions about where power really lies. “We do the painful, critical work of understanding our role in powers and principalities six days a week. On Sunday, however, we rejoice without ceasing.” That’s some powerful stuff.

Still, the claims that “we have no politics but the politics of Jesus Christ” and “We aren’t liberal, we’re just early” are a bit disingenuous. I would prefer them to acknowledge with a bit more humility what they are about. I don’t know much about the history of First Congregational Church. It really is wonderful that they worked as abolitionists during the Civil War and invited Sojourner Truth to speak to the congregation. But any church with a history of nearly 200 years has closeted skeletons and the legacy of some of those problems. Even acknowledging that they were “early” to the right position or stance implies there was a time when they were wrong. It’s hubris to believe there they’ve gotten everything just right.

I will suggest two such areas where they might be wrong; they are just suggestions, and barely rise to the level of criticisms. First, are questions of what some Catholic theologians call a “seamless garment” ethic of life, including the life of the unborn. Nothing in Nathan’s essay, or the First Congregational Church’s website, mention the unborn or abortion. Is it at least imaginable that, one day, First Congregational Church will look back and wonder why they did not care for the least of “the least of these”?

Second, I wonder whether we will look back and ask why progressive churches spent so much time on identity politics implied in Nathan’s list of “the demonic forces of systemic sin (racism, sexism, homophobia, ableism, etc.)”. I don’t really know what the reality at First Congregational Church is, but it takes up an inordinate amount of energy in some of the church circles I am in. Will there be some new insight that comes along which dethrones power dynamics as the central concern of the progressive church? I see Nathan’s leadership in joyful worship as a possible hint.

But as I say, these are my suggestions, and Nathan can probably come up with a longer list of lamentations for First Congregational Church. Mostly, I am glad for the way they seem to “study, pray, meditate, interview, protest, and converse over shared meals,” and then to join together on Sundays to rejoice.

Also, I can confidently say that the bell at North Presbyterian Church has, in fact, been rung in the past half-century, because I use to ring it when we were members in the ‘80s.

What insights can you glean from the approaches taken by First Congregational Church as to ways in which they are seeking to be faithful to their particular understandings of commitment to the Christian faith? What, if anything, did you find out about First Congregational Church that surprised you or caused you to change your view of them?

Here’s something I really do want to learn from First Congregation Church: that sense of joyful worship on Sunday in the midst of a politically engaged congregation. In fact, I’m taking a short sabbatical this summer, and I hope to join my sisters and brothers at First Congregational Church for worship, both to rejoice with them, but also to learn from them. There is so much dourness, depression, and discouragement in our current moment, and in our past. It sounds refreshing to join in a large group of people in joyful worship. I want to learn more viscerally that “nobody goes to church on Sunday morning to feel bad,” and what to do about that.

A Body at Work: Politics, Protest, and Praise

Recently I was asked by a frustrated Christian how I might respond to the imprecation, “keep your damned politics out of my church.”  I asked her to allow me think on this – as it is something that I have wrestled with in my personal ministry but have rarely spoken about in a pastoral context.  Comforted by the promises of Jesus Christ in Matthew 10:20 and Luke 12:12 I offered the following encouragement.

I riffed on the famous quip by German novelist Thomas Mann.  I said, “Everything is politics. And nobody goes to church on Sunday to feel bad.”  On balance, these two counterweights have informed nearly every sermon I’ve ever preached and my efforts at encouraging fellow pilgrims to repair this broken world and build upon it the Kingdom of God.

I serve as the 29th Senior Pastor of a church that is nearly two centuries old.  Our congregation is older than the city in which we reside. Kalamazoo is a marvelous town of roughly 80,000 inhabitants and we view our mission focus as a principally local concern.  We are descendents of Puritan stock and take seriously Winthrop’s words that we ought to establish ourselves as “a City upon a Hill.”  Communalism is a deep-rooted theological constant among traditional Congregationalists.  As puritans, we are also thoroughly intolerant of sin. As we view sin through the Biblical lens of the oppressive actions of “powers and principalities,” it is incumbent upon us to use the capacity of our body (the Body of Christ) to confront, condemn, and ultimately exorsize the demonic forces of systemic sin (racism, sexism, homophobia, ableism, etc.)

Historically, our church has sheltered refugees from every war involving U.S. military engagement since 1835.  In the 1850s, we willfully and publicly violated the Federal Fugitive Slaves Act in order to provide cover, accommodations, and supplies to Americans fleeing the state violence of chattel slavery.  Sojourner Truth preached in our pulpit. Today, we manifest these core, theological values by advocating spiritually and materially for marriage equality, support for the immigrant and wanderer, ending the unnatural abomination of homelessness, and providing radical hospitality in our current house of worship.  Each of these issues stem from a Biblical mandate.

To be absolutely clear, we are not liberals.  We do not “celebrate” or “endorse” any political party.  In our affiliated denomination, the United Church of Christ, you will often hear it said: “We aren’t liberal.  We’re just early.” Most, if not all, of the positions we stake on scriptural grounds (i.e. the abolition of slavery, the ordination of women, persons of color, and lgbtq individuals, the enfranchisement of women, opposition to wars of aggression, marriage equality) typically become “common practice” in the greater church within a generation or two after adoption by our independent churches.

Our reasons for selectively taking church-wide positions on ministry are typically the culmination of a great deal of prayer, the study of God’s Word, and advice from the individuals directly affected by the issue.  Recently, we voted to become a Public Sanctuary Church and are now protecting a 63 year-old woman from deportation at the hands of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). We share the use of our campus with over 130 different community justice, arts, and support organizations and nearly 14,000 unique visitors passed through our doors last year.  We have revitalized the traditional practice of hosting town-hall meetings in Congregational Churches. We share our building completely free of cost or expectation.  Our church’s benevolence provides direct cash assistance to those in need, absent the red-tape of our bureaucratic government or the Kafka-esque process of “proving need” established by other social service agencies.  We donated the use of our chapel to another church that was at risk of closing.

A recent evening town-hall meeting held in the historic sanctuary of the First Congregational Church

These and other actions are preceded by a need, a call for action, critical reflection on God’s Word, and typically conclude with a congregational vote.

Are these ministries “political” by nature?  If we define political as, “having to do with a particular political party or party agenda,” then the answer is, “no.”  If, on the other hand, we adopt a more traditional definition of politics as, “concerning public affairs and public well-being,” then they are certainly political issues.  Our concerns stem not from loyalty to some political party or figure – but rather from God’s high expectations for the practicing Christian. I gave a sermon in which I channeled the words of a preacher I greatly admire, lightly admonishing a few parishioners (which led to some outrage): “Some of you are willing to knock on doors for Bernie Sanders but you refuse to knock on doors for Jesus Christ – and this tells me a little bit about where you believe the real power in the universe resides.”  For all I know – in another century we may be lambasted as backward, conservative relics. Our so-called “liberal” identity is a manufactured product of a secular culture responding subjectively to a church tradition that predates modern liberalism by almost three hundred years.
Church sign addressing the protests over the Dakota Access Pipe Line

Supplies donated to the water protectors at Standing Rock Reservation were blessed during a Sunday morning worship service

But what does this mean for parishioners who are frustrated or disagree with our common ministries?  Our congregational votes are rarely unanimous. Congregationalists speak their minds and vote their conscience.  By this measure, we are a remarkably healthy church. Our members know that if they stand and voice an opinion, no matter how unpopular, they will never be shunned or held to a separate standard than the dissenting majority.  We are, after all, a body made of many members.  While our church does enforce church discipline our disciplinary procedures are reserved for abusive or criminal behaviors.  We would never consider exercising church discipline to punish a member for a differing opinion – political or otherwise.  Thankfully, God has provided us with the gift of worship and praise by which we can be made whole, regardless of our diversity of thought and behavior.

Every single Sunday morning is a celebration.  Every Sunday morning is a little Easter.  Every Sunday we rise with dawn and exalt our creator and the work accomplished through the empty tomb by our Risen Savior.  On Sunday morning, it no longer matters where we reside on the political or economic spectrum. Indeed, if our worship is authentic, these things cannot intrude upon our joy.
Joy comes with the dawn.  It comes not with some metric or pedagogy for the coming week, but rather with the simple anamnesis of who we actually are.  We are stewards of creation, made in the very image and likeness of God (in whom there is resplendent diversity), who have been completely and irrevocably set free from the powers of sin and death.  This is Sunday morning (and, as we have it, Sunday evening as well). The message from the pulpit may rage against the criminal injustices of sinful systems and oppressive regimes – but it is only all the more in order to rejoice over their coming collapse and the ultimate reign of God’s shalom.  There is nothing that we cannot accomplish through our faith in Jesus Christ and our fealty to the Bible.

I have received no small measure of impatient criticism from my peers within my denomination and elsewhere regarding our excessive, exuberant joy on Sunday morning.  Some prefer Sunday morning as an opportunity for demonstration or “raising awareness” about the rampant cruelties in our mission field. Recently, a small army of defectors from a neighboring city abandoned their congregation for our own after a Sunday worship event.  (This happens as frequently in Congregational Churches as in other denominations – I suspect, perhaps, with greater frequency.) Their pastors had held an obligatory service of mourning for black victims of state police violence. When dissenters appear at my door I take their concerns seriously while gently encouraging to make their way back home.  These are not refugees – they are rather protestors. Thankfully, most of them did return to their home church. However I received an aggrieved complaint from a fellow clergyperson demanding to know why we didn’t hold such a worship session.  I responded that we had done our work – we had hosted a very large protest and “die-in” in the adjacent park, held talk sessions with young folk targeted by police aggression, spent time investigating our own Public Safety Department, and we placed a “Black Lives Matter” banner in a prominent place much to the ire of Monday morning passersby. On the Sunday morning in question we had marked this state violence with a moment of silence and a reading of the names of those afflicted. But then we began to praise God.  Because, ultimately, we know that God is going to conquer this terrible evil – and that we have a critically important role to play in the battle.  We can hear the victory refrain even now in the distant wind. And every single one of us – no matter our political affiliation – has a role to play in this journey.  We do the painful, critical work of understanding our role in powers and principalities six days a week.  On Sunday, however, we rejoice without ceasing. Because, ultimately, nobody goes to church on Sunday morning to feel bad.  And after a sufficient amount of suffering, even the most stalwart Christian would prefer to simply sleep in.

Our journey into the Word of God is going to naturally challenge our personal politics.  You cannot get very far on the Jesus path without acknowledging God’s preferential option for the poor.  It is as though it’s written in letters ten feet tall. There will always be those who claim that “illegal immigrants” are somehow outside of God’s protection or the domain of the church.  That the children murdered by autolatrous fascists and their servile agents “got what they deserved.” That the prison population serving unjust sentences as chattel slaves to the corporate estate are receiving their “just desserts.”  There will always be those who stand firmly rooted outside the Kingdom of God. And God knows them by their fruits. Yet there will always be at least one congregation, on the corner of one park, in the center of one little rust-belt city that is going to unapologetically fly the pennant of the conquering lamb.  When we begin and end in the very body of our Lord Jesus Christ, we can have a spiritual clarity that defies the raging world and all its many voices and turns, instead, to the still, soft voice of God and obediently follows wherever it leads.

We have no politics but the politics of Jesus Christ.  Throughout the week we study, pray, meditate, interview, protest, and converse over shared meals.  Occasionally, we reach a conclusion. Regardless, on Sunday morning we rejoice, and rejoice, and rejoice always.

 

The gift of a small church

Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers. Romans 12:9-13.

Kalamazoo Mennonite Fellowship is a small house church in Kalamazoo, Michigan, fewer than twenty people, including kids, on a good day. We are part of the Indiana-Michigan Conference of the Mennonite Church, USA, the largest, at least for now, Mennonite denomination in the United States. I say, “at least for now” because difficult questions around scripture, human sexuality, and politics have led many congregations and even whole conferences to leave. The very idea of having respectful conversations is critical to institutional survival, but it is also critical to our spiritual growth and obedience to God’s command to be “quick to hear, slow to speak, and slow to anger (James 1:19).”

Even though we are a small church, we believe that God gives us the gifts that we need, as Paul writes in his first letter to the Corinthian church (1 Corinthians 12:7 and passim). If this is true, then when we do not have a particular gift, it is at least likely that God has decided we don’t quite need it yet. The charism of a small church is intimacy and a certain ease: we don’t need to do everything; we lack time and resources.

What kind of social service ministries the Kalamazoo Mennonite Fellowship provide?

As a church, we have exactly one social service ministry per se: almost every Thursday night, people (almost always women) gather to make comforters which are then distributed by the Mennonite Central Committee in Syria, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and elsewhere. This small and faithful cadre makes about 65 comforters per year.

However, we have no paid staff and no building to maintain, and so when we donate money to “the church,” almost all of that ends up going to others. We don’t really have a budget, but about 90% of our money ends up going to others. The “social service ministries” we supported in 2017 included:

And several of our members work in social services, including a chaplain at a local hospital, the education director of Community Homeworks, and the president of The Colossian Forum. Another is a librarian, one of the most important social services around, although libraries are so much part of the warp and woof of our society, it’s easy to forget this.

How do you encourage your members to become involved in social service ministries?

Here’s a bit of our story. Some details have been changed to protect privacy. But I tell it because it tells the story of how we have gotten involved in “social service ministries.”

Some friends of ours came over to sing together at our house on November 8, 2016. We thought it was a better way to spend time than waiting out the US presidential election returns. All of us, I think, expected Clinton to win; none of us, I think, were especially glad of that expectation. But we had been appalled by candidate Trump’s brutal words about immigrants.

As the night passed, the singing petered out. Our hearts weren’t in it, for the news was depressing — fortunately, we hadn’t spent every waking moment in anxious waiting. Singing is a good alternative to anxiety. We woke to the news that Trump had won the election.

In the wake of election and inauguration, many of us in the church were discouraged and disorganized. It seemed important to take some kind of action, if only to clear the miasma we felt. Like the singers who gathered, a major discouragement for us as a church was President Trump’s immigration policy. Some of us had lived overseas, and some of us had been directly or indirectly involved in the “Overground Railroad,” which helped Central Americans, fleeing war and distress in their home countries get to Canada in the 1980s. And of course, our comforter group had been making comforters for refugees and immigrants elsewhere, and our hearts were soft towards those who sought a better life. We try to be a place of welcome: “Welcome the stranger,” and “welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God,” as Paul wrote in Romans.

As a church, we agreed to look for ways to be more involved in welcoming immigrants. Some of us attended protests and demonstrations of support that started to happen in our downtown park. (At one, I stood on the stage with Nathan Dannison, one of my co-discussants). These demonstrations and protests, as important as they may have been, didn’t especially connect with our desire to welcome.

One of our members, Carlie, volunteered to contact Bethany Christian Services and see what would be involved in sponsoring a refugee or immigrant family. The branch director, Joel Bell, came to our church to talk through what this would mean. When we looked around at who we were, and what this entailed, we realized it was more than we could realistically offer. Other churches than ours have support groups for refugee families that are bigger than our church.

It did introduce us to Joel Bell. My wife, Bess, learned that he and his family welcomed ten members of a refugee family into their home for six weeks. Bess said, if they could do that, so could we. So, we offered our home for emergency housing. Through Joel and Bethany’s Refugee and Immigrant Services, we have been able to welcome a lively Egyptian family for a couple of weeks, and a young Rohingya man, fleeing genocide in Burma, and whom Bethany essentially rescued from enslavement locally. Before meeting him, we knew nothing of the Rohingya people and the dangers and horrors they have been undergoing.

Joel came to us with a bigger ask: a longer term commitment to a young man from Guatemala named Helder, who came as an unaccompanied minor to the US, taken under Bethany’s care, and who was about to age out of their services. A sweeter and more helpful person you couldn’t imagine. Coming from a farming family, he loves working with Bess in our garden, taking good care of our rabbits, cooking us empanadas, and telling stories from his village and especially about his abuelo. Helder is here legally, and is waiting for a final determination of his case. Both fortunately and unfortunately, the case load is heavy, and Helder’s had to wait a long time. It’s unfortunate because he lives under a constant cloud of uncertainty, and is unable to work without government permission. It’s fortunate, because he’s been able to secure needed medical care and learn English.

And it’s been fortunate for us: both our family and our church. It’s great to have a sweet, kind young man in the house, who is handy and tells a good story. Bess and I lived in Spain donkey’s years ago, and we’ve been able to revive, somewhat, our atrophied Spanish. He also attends worship with us. We have begun to make parts of our service bilingual. Even the non-Spanish speaking members of our church don’t seem to mind hearing a sermon in both Spanish and English.

Having these folks in our home has taught our church many things, including:

  • Gratitude for the gift they are, in and of themselves
  • Gratitude for the ways state, federal, and local agencies have programs in place to welcome immigrants and refugees (it’s not all bad)
  • Anger at the ways immigrants and refugees are exploited by unscrupulous family and so-called sponsors
  • Anger at the ways immigrants and refugees are often scapegoated in the current political climate
  • Anger at some of the piss-poor services offered to immigrants, borne by the the public, but often flowing to private, for-profit organizations
  • Acceptance of our limits of what we can realistically do
  • Spanish Vocabulary We’re learning words we never knew in Spanish ?. ¡It’s really estirando us!

Do you encourage your members to be politically active, and why? What are your reasons for NOT taking church-wide political positions or initiatives?

First, some background.

I did not grow up in the church, but my father was what came to be called a Reagan Democrat. He strongly believed that participation in civic life, especially voting, was the duty of every citizen. This duty was strongly engrained in me. It came as some surprise to learn that the traditional — or at least one traditional — belief of the Anabaptists was to not participate in politics, even to vote.

Mennonites form one of the historic “peace churches” (along with the Church of the Brethren and the Quakers). And, historically for Mennonites, that meant being nonresistant in the face of violence. And, because “the sword” is reserved for those in government service, we should not, therefore, participate in government as office holders, or even as voters. One of Anabaptism’s treasures is The Martyrs’ Mirror, a hagiography of how “defenseless Christians” faced down violence and torture in faithful obedience to Christ.

The current confession of faith used by Mennonite Church, USA expands and erases some of this historic understanding. The idea of nonresistance is expanded to include peace and justice. Jesus, as the confession says, “has called us to find our blessing in making peace and seeking justice.” We are still not to resort to violence, and we call on our members to conscientiously object to military service. But influencing and participating in the secular political process is not forbidden, and even encouraged. Mennonite Central Committee (independent from, but supported by Mennonite Church USA) even maintains a Washington, DC office to “better advocate for U.S. government policies that make for a more peaceful and just world.”

Some more traditional Mennonites and other Anabaptists maintain the more traditional nonresistant position. Other conservative Mennonites have joined the general trend of conservative evangelicals in supporting politicians and policies set forth by political conservatives. And, for some, this has meant supporting the military and other so-called pro-American values. This has led to some interesting politics, in and outside the church. For example, the upcoming 2018 congressional election in the newly created Pennsylvania 11th district features a politically liberal Democrat and Mennonite, Jess King, versus conservative Republican Lloyd Smucker, who was raised Amish.

There’s a bit of an open secret about Mennonite history that’s relevant, too. A large strand of the Mennonite and Anabaptist movement in Europe was German-speaking. Many migrated to what is present-day Ukraine. When the atheistic Communist revolution occurred in Russia, these Mennonites found themselves sandwiched between Germany to the west, and the Soviet Union to the east. With the rise of Hitler and Nazism, many Mennonites saw the Nazis in a positive light, supporting their German culture and their religion, and the Nazis saw the Mennonites as good Aryan Volk and possible partners in a Greater Germany, both in Europe as well as Mennonite colonies in places like Paraguay. The most recent issue of The Mennonite Quarterly Review treats aspects of this history. The open secret is that some Mennonites, in living memory, were Nazis or Nazi sympathizers. I have friends who have great uncles or grandparents who were.

The sweep of Anabaptist history has tended towards non-involvement in politics and non-resistance to violence. Over time, these ideals have been lost and compromised (as in the case of Nazi collaboration), or changed and enhanced to include a focus on social justice and social peacemaking, as in the official confession of the Mennonite Church USA.

As a pastor, I have been very wary of encouraging people to identify their political convictions with their Christian beliefs. I’ve even hesitated to suggest people vote, which I’m sure causes my union-going Democrat father to spin rapidly in his grave. In the end, during the 2016 presidential election, I did encourage our church to vote, not for one candidate or another in mind, but to vote. At the time, we had at least two regular attenders who grew up under the ancien régime, and so were not even registered to vote, and were not inclined to do so. I’m pretty sure the others would have voted whether or not I encouraged them to. On Facebook, on my personal page, I encouraged people to vote for Hillary Clinton, trying to make it as clear as possible that I was not speaking for anyone but myself, and definitely not for our local fellowship. I encouraged people to do so because, at the time, and to this day, I view the presidency of Donald Trump as an existential threat.

On our private Facebook group, which is pretty recent for us, there have been some calls to action about state legislation, and information about Saheeda Nadeem, a woman taking refuge in the building of Kalamazoo’s First Congregational Church. This is another commonality that Nathan Dannison and I have: our churches are both housing and supporting an immigrant or refugee in our meeting houses! I think this activity is fine, although if it were to be all politics, all the time, I might change my mind. Or, if the politics were to be overwhelmingly partisan and not issue-based. But, as I say, the group is new for us, and we are feeling our way. We’re more likely to post Bible verses or funny videos, or to encourage one another to visit our elderly member at her nursing home.

That’s our internal messaging. I do not, and probably would not, encourage our little fellowship to take “church-wide positions or initiatives” for a number of reasons. A very important one is simply time and resources. We’re a small church, we all live busy lives. The closest thing we have to paid staff is the child care person who comes on Sunday morning, and she’s not going to lead us in storming the barricades.

Another, related, reason is that we have church members involved in social justice, care, and peacemaking, and supporting them in their work seems more valuable than working on causes directly. Often that means loving them as they parent their children, work through the frustrations of their jobs, and encouraging their spiritual lives, all of which makes it possible for them to be more effective in their ministries. Of course, we try to do the same for anyone, and we don’t value a career doing social justice over a career doing accountancy. But we also put our money where our heart is, and support agencies and advocacy groups like the ones listed above.

Frankly, I am wary of official church positions for a number of reasons. We have seen in our Mennonite history how some members of a comfortable church, frightened by real dangers, ended up making extremely bad decisions about their place as part of Hitler’s Volk. And I have viewed with increasing skepticism the capture of the American evangelical church by Trumpism. It’s a foolish conceit that we are going to make just the right call, when others, not really any worse or stupider than we, did not. I also recognize that sometimes we just need to take the risk, though the church worldwide and through history has not had a great track record, especially when the church has been in places of privilege.

The passage from Romans quoted above is an excerpt from a longer description of what Paul thinks a healthy church should look like: mutual love and honor,a common life of virtue, prayer, generosity, hospitality, and so on. All of these things are about what it means to be in, and extend, the kingdom of God. Jesus promises that those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be satisfied, and that peacemakers will be called God’s children. It’s not an either/or thing; it’s not a choice between a common life of virtue, and fighting for a more just world.

I mentioned previously the charism of our church. Of course, I have no illusions that we are the perfect model of a church, no illusions whatsoever. And I can affirm that other churches have other gifts or a calling to do something different. Much of what we do has grown organically (in a vine-like way, I hope) out of our own size, resources, and abilities. I might want to post warning signs about getting too cozy with powers and authorities, but I don’t assume that other churches making policy pronouncements are necessarily in bed with Beliar. In fact, I await with eagerness to hear what the other discussants say.

It’s hard to do a good job at being the church; it’s difficult to make decisions for ourselves as individuals, much less a common life of people at different stages. One way to engage in respectful conversations is to recognize, with humility, that we might be wrong and others might be right (and so are called to learn a new way of virtue), or that we might be right and they might be wrong (and so are called to extend grace), or that we might both be right (and so can praise God for a divine gift of diversity). Of course, the most likely thing is that we are both wrong, but in different ways. So we need to throw ourselves on the grace of God, and the promises of God, and remember that “underneath are the everlasting arms.”

Subtopic 10: Case Study Conversations Regarding Political Discourse and Political Action Within Churches and Christian Para-Church Organizations (June 2018)

Case Study #1: Kalamazoo (MI) Mennonite Fellowship – A church that encourages its members to become involved in social service ministries that serve persons in need (e.g., the homeless, the hungry); that has church-wide social service ministries; but does NOT take church-wide political positions or initiatives (whether or not it encourages its individual members to be politically active).

Leading  Questions: What kind of social service ministries does your church provide? How do you encourage your members to become involved in social service ministries? Do you encourage your members to be politically active, and why? What are your reasons for NOT taking church-wide political positions or initiatives?

  • Conversation Partner: Will Fitzgerald, Senior Pastor, Kalamazoo (MI) Mennonite Fellowship 

 

Case Study #2: First Congregational Church – Kalamazoo (MI) – A church that encourages its members to be politically active and involved in social service ministries that serve persons in need (e.g., the homeless, the hungry); that has church-wide social service ministries; and SELECTIVELY takes church-wide political positions or initiatives.

Leading Questions: What kind of social service ministries does your church provide? How do you encourage your members to become involved in social service ministries? What are your reasons for selectively taking church-wide political positions or initiatives? What types of issues have you selected and on what basis did you make that selection?

  • Conversation Partner: Nathan Dannison, Senior Pastor, First Congregational Church – Kalamazoo

 

Case Study #3: Christian Reformed Church Office of Social Justice – A Christian para-church organization that believes that reforming/redeeming the political realm is an important activity for Christians; that Christians should carry out social justice ministries that persons in need; and that provides resources and others assistance to help its church constituent members and their congregational members to carry out these responsibilities.

Leading Questions: How do you encourage individual Christians and your church constituent members to become involved in political activities that reform/redeem the political realm and in social service ministries that serve persons in need? What kind of resources do you provide for such individuals and churches? What has worked well? What hasn’t worked well?

  • Conversation Partner: Kris Van Engen, Congregational Justice Mobilizer for World Renew and the Christian Reformed Church Office of Social Justice