Today, my first full day back at Calvin, I’ve spent entirely on campus. I am volunteering for the worship symposium, and although I had few formal responsibilities today, I have attended sessions, had dinner with Stanley Grenz, talked with friends, ran into dozens of acquaintances in the halls, and had a great time. Now I am writing from my former workplace, the WA Office, aka my second home. It’s been great to see all the Worship Apprentices and Cindy DeJong, the chapel coordinator. But best of all has been having my sister Sarah around for the weekend. I can hear the LOFT team preparing for the service upstairs, and I am excited to worship in LOFT again after eight months away.
Archive for January, 2005
After more than a month at home, I have returned to the US. I flew up yesterday on Spirit Air (a horrible airline) through Fort Lauderdale and Chicago; then took a bus to Goshen. My friend Will put me up for the night. Today I will have lunch with my grandparents and then get a ride up to Grand Rapids. I am looking forward to moving into the Koinonia house, where I will live with 10 other students and a mentor family in an intentional Christian community. I am also excited about the Worship Symposium at Calvin. I am volunteering for about half the time and attending sessions the other half. Sarah is also volunteering. I am happy to have her around.
I’m frustrated with my church. I’m also frustrated with the Church, but let me restrain my scope for a while. This post is a collection of a few disturbing comments/phrases I’ve heard from the pulpit of my church in the DR. Unfortunately, I expect this to be a regular feature while I am home. The phrases are translated and paraphrased in order to approximate their original intent and feel.
1. “Haiti is so messed up because of all the witchcraft and santeria that Haitians practice. You’re either a brujo (witch) or an evangelico.”
The head pastor should have done some research before sticking out his racist tongue. Actually, Haiti has a higher percentage (20-30%) of Evangelical Christians than the DR (11-20%). Given approximately equal populations, there are numerically more evangelicos in Haiti than in the DR. Makes one wonder why the DR isn’t as economically ravaged, and also how the pastor of a large Evangelical church can be so racist. (Answer: he grew up in a town near the Haitian border, and anti-Haitian racism is almost universal in Dominican culture.) I wish my church would wake up and make a difference in its social, economic, and spiritual environment.
2. “The tsunami in the Indian Ocean is God’s punishment to pagan, muslim nations.”
I heard this one during the Dec. 31 late-night service, and almost didn’t believe that it was said. The statement preceded a time of prayer for those affected by the disaster – wait, there was a qualifier used: those Christians affected by the disaster. Yes, my church prayed only for Christians living in the area, with everyone else relegated to a footnote in the prayer, something to the effect of “May God use this tragedy to bring them to repentance and conversion.” I gritted my teeth and pretended like I didn’t hear it, or else I might have smashed my guitar on the floor and stormed out of the building.
3. A prayer based on Isaiah 61:1-3 that used each major phrase as theme for a section of the prayer. The phrase, “Bind up the brokenhearted” led to a prayer for unbelievers, asking for God to bring them to repentance. “Good news for the poor” became a prayer for the economic prosperity of Christians; “Comfort for those who mourn” became a prayer for stronger Christian families, “Freedom for the captives” was another prayer for unbelievers and their salvation. And so the prayer proceeded: the pastor read a bit of scripture, and then gave the pray-er a one-line thematic prompt. What left me amazed and incensed by the end of the prayer was the blatant self-centered, soul-saving evangelical slant that the pastor chose. Even more shocking was the total absence of any mention of social justice or wholistic, inclusive ministry. To be honest, I had never heard such an Evangelical interpretation of Isaiah 61, especially those first verses. I didn’t think it was possible.
I am ashamed that any of these things were said from the pulpit in my church. It’s amazing that Pat Robertson or some Bible-banging American Evangelical didn’t say these things first, especially about the tsunami. Maybe they’ve learned a bit of restraint after the famous post-9/11 comments. But I bet the fundamental attitudes have not changed. Even here, in my home church, people continue to think in this closed-minded way. If the leaders of the church think like that, is there any hope for the body?
A stimulating discussion with Carmen and Luis Sena and my mother awoke a number of latent thoughts. For years I’ve suspected that Reformed and Mennonite theologies are not as distant as one would expect. Unable to put my finger on any specific points of intersection, I held that intuition in the back of my mind. During today’s conversation I thought of one possible link. I will continue to think about these ideas over the next years. Anyone who would like to discuss with me is most welcome.
The conversation was about how to change systems: transformation from the inside, a la Reformed, or transformative witness from the outside, a la Mennonite. Luis Sena used Jesus’ life as an example of the Reformed perspective, arguing that Jesus worked within the Roman system, not advocating a violent revolution, but rather working toward change from within. While I did not disagree with him, I would add that Jesus’ life also serves as an example of the Mennonite transformative witness. These are some of the most fundamental differences between Mennonite and Reformed theology. But really, aren’t both articulating the same thing?
An even better instance of the theological similarities between Reformed and Mennonite thought is the Incarnation. God becomes human. The Word becomes flesh. The Lord becomes the Servant. The paradox of the Incarnation expresses the theological unity between Reformed and Mennonite thought. The system of sin is redeemed from within, by a screaming, babbling, pooping baby, and yet the system of sin is renewed from without, by the radical, unexpected hand of the Triune God.
Or does the Crucifixion better express the fundamental unity between divergent theological systems? Well, I think the Incarnation and the crucifixion are really about the same thing, too. That’s why Advent and Lent remind me of each other, and I cannot think of pain of the Incarnation and Crucifixion without experiencing the joy of the Incarnation and the Resurrection.
Immanuel!
Aleluya!
One of the last major traditions of the season is now over. We always go to church on the 31st for a vigilia, a worship and prayer service from 9-ish till past midnight. I served as a musician, which made it more difficult for me to participate in the service. The coming of the New Year was anticlimatic, marked by an ear-splitting rendition of “We Want To See Jesus Lifted High” (translated, of course), lots of candles, a horrible mix coming out of the speakers, and lots of contrived emotion. At least, that is how I experienced it. The best part was after the service, when I plastered a fake smile on my face and went around hugging and kissing and saludando everyone, whether I knew them or not. The only people I wanted to see were my closest friends and my family – they made the night worthwhile. And the hot chocolate, best in the world.
After the service, most of the youth from church went to someone’s house to hang out and wait for the sunrise. We played cards, domino (a far more complex game than the American version), played guitar, and had a decent time. At first, I was tired and wanted to go home, but the early morning hours were quite fun. I showed my best friend Junior my pictures from Europe, and we played guitar together. That was the best part. As usual, a big pot of espaguetis was served around 3am. I needed a coffee. We made it home safely, a huge feat on a night with more drunk drivers and fewer rules than any other, and crashed in bed ’till 3pm.
