The Advent season that wasn´t

Christmas is approaching! But most of the time, I can´t tell.

I ask myself, "How do I usually know that Christmas is coming?"

Well, there is the snow falling in beautiful, fluffy flakes. I definitely missed that cue if it ever happened out here. I am getting used to sweating at all times, seeking out shade and breezes and fans automatically. The pattern of getting up early, staying up late, and sleeping the midday away makes more sense now than ever.

Then there is the cue of cheesy Christmas music on the radio, starting about a month before it should. That definitely didn´t happen here. Radio music is still reggaeton beats and the occasional romantic song from the 90´s or before. Christmas music here means "We wish you a merry Christmas." You think I´m kidding, but I am not.

There are the decorations of pine and red ribbon and glass ornaments. Nope, not here. On the rare occasions that I see them, it´s in big stores that are imitating the West. My favourite thing is the surprisingly popular icicle-style Christmas lights that dangle in strings. I love them in Winnipeg and I love them here.

Family traditions like baking and decorating cookies, setting up the tree, and celebrating at huge gatherings... All of those are obviously not going to happen here. I am on another continent than my family, so fair enough.

More than anything -- even more than the snow and lights that I love -- I miss the way the Church anticipates Christmas back in Canada. Here the concept of Advent is one that requires explaining. The Mennonite churches, at least, don´t do anything unusual. Sundays in December are like every other Sunday. The person preaching picks some passages to be read and preaches on a theme. But in my mind, this is supposed to be the Advent season. I miss lighting candles. I miss progressively decorating. I miss the familiar passages and the atmosphere rife with anticipation. I want to feel like Christmas is coming!!!

To be honest, I fear Christmas will be no big deal at all in the church here. I am happy to be rid of all the consumeristic baggage attached to Christmas in Canada... but not to be rid of Christmas entirely. It makes me really sad to be missing out on the benefit of a church-led Advent season.

It looks like this year, if I want Advent to be meaningful, it will be a do-it-myself event. Anybody got candles?

Danger -- Contents May Overheat!

These days, I often joke that my head is going to explode. But I´m only half joking.

I am learning SO MUCH STUFF.

First of all, of course, I am still working on my Spanish. On top of that, it seems that everyone I meet -- especially the older generation -- is keen to teach me Guaraní. This is OK with me, because I am eager to learn.

However, now that I am in Ciudad del Este, these languages are no longer enough. It is a given that I will pick up some Portuguese, as the majority of the merchants downtown are from Brazil and conduct business in Portuguese. If I want to go shopping, ever, some Portuguese would be a good idea. It´s not so much that it is necessary, as that it is considered rude not to make an effort.

There is also a lot of Arabic spoken in businesses downtown. Gulp. My host dad keeps saying phrases to me in Arabic at random times. It´s a game for me now, to guess at what he might be saying. I understand absolutely nothing, except for Allah and Isa. (If only his favourite expression were Insh´Allah.) As it is, I can´t imagine a language with a more beautiful sound, but I am making absolutely no effort to learn Arabic. My poor brain is doing all it reasonably can.

But don´t think for a moment that I am learning nothing but languages. No, no.

My students are eager to reciprocate by teaching me things, in exchange for English. Thus it happens that I had my first violin lesson this morning. I am pretty excited about the possibilities of this new endeavour.

Furthermore, one of my host dad´s nieces (so my cousin, I guess) is going to teach me to dance. Not the traditional Paraguayan style -- the contemporary stuff. That way I can dance along to the incessant Reggaeton beat that pumps through every neighbourhood. Those who know me well, know that I love to dance. It´s part of my embodied way of experiencing music, and joy.

Of course, I am learning to make traditional Paraguay foods and drinks. I love to cook, and my year would hardly be complete without some new favourite dishes. If I can serve a vegetarian, African-inspired dish in Paraguay, I better come home able to cook something Paraguayan!

Who knows what else I will pick up while I am here? I love to learn, so I am soaking it all up. That´s my plan for the whole year...

Unless my head explodes first.

Disenchantment

I think I have fallen out of love.

(No, not with Jonathan.)

I have fallen out of love with a version of Paraguay I knew. That was the Paraguay that centers around Mennonite colonies in the Chaco; the Paraguay where the cities full of Spanish-speakers are more dangerous than they are exciting; the Paraguay in which White Mennonites only ever relate to Paraguayos and Indigenous people as workers on their farms.

Yep. I am definitely out of love.


The good news is that I am falling in love afresh... with a version of Paraguay that I like much better.

Living with a Paraguayo family for a month has given me new eyes with which to see this place. I am learning to live as part of a warm, relationship-oriented culture. It is so person-affirming to greet absolutely everyone when you enter a conversation circle, with at least a handshake and a "¿Que tal?" if not with a hug and kisses. It makes sense to me that relationships should matter more than task efficiency. I like seeing that principle in practice here!

I am coming to value the traditional knowledge that is still passed on here, in ways that I think many older persons in Canada would envy. The elderly are revered as sources of knowledge and wisdom. Young people learn as matters of fact which remedios yuyos (remedial herbs) have which health benefits when added to the tereré water. Children work as apprentices with their parents outside of school hours, so they can make a living of their own eventually. This is especially important for those who do not complete high school or go on to university studies. Whether learning to cook or do laundry or chop wood or drive a tractor or brand cattle, children learn by doing, alongside their parents and grandparents.


I am growing to love the scenery, from the sunrises in the flat, dry Chaco, to the lushly green rolling hills and lake by Ciudad del Este. The blend of languages engages my attention and keeps me forever learning. (At present I am working on Spanish, Guaraní, Portuguese, and even Arabic. Imagine!) The people are curious and friendly. The red earth does not cease to fascinate me, and I am most curious as to what will happen when I start composting. Paraguayans live with gusto, and while the loud and repetitive reggaeton music sometimes gets to me, there is something irresistible about a place that vigorously celebrates everything from birthdays to soccer victories. I can hardly wait until Christmas -- apparently even the toddlers set off age-appropriate fireworks!!!

Now, more than ever, I get to spend one-on-one time with this culture I am coming to love. I am in Ciudad del Este, five hours away from the North Americans who came to Paraguay with me. When I resort to English words to explain myself, I am met with blank stares. Yep, this is the real deal -- like the potentially tough marriage that follows a wonderful period of dating.

I have an opportunity in this new setting to not only fall in love... but to choose to love. Pray that I may learn how to live that out.

Languages, languages...

"Monolingualism CAN be cured!"

That slogan graced the classroom of one of my high school French teachers. I always liked the poster -- it was easy for me to be smug since I already knew Low German, German, and English -- but only in Paraguay have I realized what a strange North American phenomenon monolingualism actually is.

Pretty much everyone here speaks at least two languages. For most of the population, that means Spanish and Guaraní. For the colony Mennonites, it means German and Plautdietsch (which may or may not be considered different languages -- I argue that they are) and Spanish. In addition to these, there are a considerable number of Asian languages spoken in parts of Paraguay; one prime example is the Japanese colonies in the eastern part of the country. In regions near the Brazilian border, of course, there are a lot of people who speak Portuguese. There seems to be a widespread desire for English-language training because of the economic opportunities that knowing English brings, and this is reflected in the public school curriculum.

There is so much to say about being surrounded by all this language that I hardly know where to begin.

Let me make the observation, first of all, that it is wonderful to be so well understood. In a number of the places that our group finds itself, there are people present who speak Spanish AND English AND German... If we find ourselves at a loss for words in Spanish, we can resort to explaining ourselves in another language and the conversation flows on virtually uninterrupted. Just today at lunch, I was conversing in Spanish at a table at CEMTA (the Mennonite seminary here -- a lot like CMU, except culturally modified). When the fact that I knew German was brought up, the conversation switched to German, except for one girl who understood perfectly but always spoke in Spanish. The conversation flowed like this with no difficulty for anyone! It´s wonderful.

I am still waiting for a chance to converse with someone here in French, but I am sure the opportunity will arise. It did last year! At the moment, the French language is pretty much my best friend, since the grammatical structures and many words are so similar to those of Spanish. This is making it possible for me to learn Castellano (Spanish) much more quickly than I could have otherwise. The Spanish language is very intuitive and logical, and the more I learn Spanish, the more I wonder why English -- which is, let´s admit it, a ridiculously illogical and irregular language -- is becoming a global language. Spanish is far easier to learn!

The second thing I really want to say is that I love and am fascinated by the fact that, in Paraguayan culture, the indigenous language of Guaraní is absolutely pervasive. It seems so entirely normal here, that it makes me wonder why the notion of widely using an Aboriginal language seems so strange in Canada. To be honest, I am really starting to want to learn Guaraní. At the very least, I will collect a wide assortment of phrases and words that pepper the daily use of Spanish within families and among friends in Paraguay. Furthermore, I am beginning to think seriously about learning Cree when I get back to Canada.

We English teachers-to-be received a brief article the other day (check it out at http://www.mwc-cmm.org/en/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=186&Itemid=108) outlining the eight languages of translation at next year´s Mennonite World Conference assembly. The languages are as follows: Spanish, English, Guaraní, Enlhet, Nivaclé, German, French, and Portuguese. THREE of those are local indigenous languages!!! Perhaps the fact that I find this so exciting and unusual reflects my own country´s marginalization and neglect of our indigenous languages and cultures. I am rather under-exposed to this sort of thing. It is delightful for me to be in a place where being rooted in indigenous culture and language is not a matter of shame, but rather cause for pride.

Meeting youngsters who are fluent in two or more languages, young adults who are working on their fourth or fifth language, and older adults who are determined to learn English to complement their Spanish and Guaraní, is inspiring. The enthusiasm and language-learning efforts of the people here are humbling. Not only that, but their generous spirit makes it easy to want to join them in this quest for even greater communication ability. In theory, I suppose, my "joining in" is supposed to take the form of me teaching, and to some extent it will. But what I really want is to learn.

This hunger for learning, I think, is precisely the cure for the monolingualism found in many parts of North America. Hopefully, it is also the start of a cure for our underlying arrogance.

In a Groove

I think I have found my perfect daily rhythm.

I wake up early, because when it´s bright out my body just does that. I go sit out front with Maria (the house mother) and her husband Secundido or one of their daughters, and start the day with some mate.

Breakfast is around 8:00, followed by a family devotional time, and then the morning´s activities follow. Usually this is some form of Spanish lessons, learning about the culture, or visiting places in Asunción. High stress to-do lists are unheard of here, so far.

Lunch is the big meal of the day. Maria spends much of the morning preparing it, and it is invariably delicious.

After lunch, I check e-mail or read or journal for an hour, or else trade backrubs with Krista. Then, once my lunch has settled in my stomach, I crawl into bed for a two-hour or so nap. Whenever I happen to wake up is when I get up. It´s a beautiful thing.

There are always young people from the church stopping by here, so we chat it up and drink tereré, and sometimes head over to the church (super close) to play some soccer and volleyball. Supper is around 7:30 or 8:00, and then the evening is open for socializing or studying or whatever else until 10:30 or 11:00, at which time we generally go to bed.

Our days are not super-structured so far, and at times we North Americans feel like we are being lazy. The main demand on us right now is to learn Spanish, and that we are doing. It can be exhausting mental work some days! So instead of feeling guilty about not technically accomplishing much with my days, which would be a very North American thing to do, I am savouring these relaxed days.

I feel welcome here. I love the culture, which is laid-back and very relationship-oriented. Being lonely is impossible, especially since there is internet access in the house, so we can e-mail and Skype home freely. The people from this Mennonite church are super-friendly and inclusive, and that helps make this place feel like a home for me.

The heat may take some getting used to... but I think my body has found its happy place.

First Days in Asuncion!

¡Hola amigos!

The Paraguay team, myself included, has arrived safe and sound in Paraguay. Even our luggage made it here at the same time as us -- we were thrilled!

In an odd way, it is like a kind of homecoming for me to be back here. I was overwhelmed on the drive from the airport to this house, by the sense of familiarity, by the flood of positive memories from when I was in Asunción last, and by the feeling of being so lucky to get to be here and do this for ten months.

What is the "this" that I am doing, anyway? In case any of my readers is not sure, let me quickly explain. In preparation for Mennonite World Conference 2009, the Spanish-language Mennonite conference (CONEMPAR) has invited six North American young adults to come and teach English to people who will be volunteering at World Conference. This is one of the many ways they are preparing, together with the Indigneous and German-language Mennonites, to host World Conference in the most hospitable way possible.

For this first month, all six of us English teachers are in Asunción, learning Spanish and learning how to teach English. My host family consists of parents Maria and Secundido, and their daughters Laura, Diana, and Achi. Most of the group downtime so far happens here at this house, and the family is being super-hospitable. I am most grateful for their friendliness, concern, and generous spirit. They are doing everything possible to help us learn Spanish and to ease our anxieties about the coming year in whatever ways they can. One important aspect of this is giving us as much information as we want about the host families we will be living with later, how to use the bus system, the currency, safety issues in the neighbourhood, food and culture, etc. In some ways we felt really short of details coming here, so it is wonderful having Maria and Laura in particular tell us everything we want to know! North Americans, after all, thrive on information!!!

Relations between the Mennonite conferences that are based in different ethnicities can be a delicate subject here in Paraguay, and I was a little concerned about how my colony Mennonite heritage might affect the way I integrate here. However, for better or worse, the fact of my parents´ colony origin came up yesterday. It is a relief not to worry about how discreet to be about that anymore. I intend to make every effort to be fully a part of the Spanish-language churches here, but the fact remains that I am who I am, and furthermore that I would like to visit my relatives in the Chaco while I am here.

What else can I tell you all? There is so much to say. Yesterday morning started with some mate with my host mother and sister, and then we walked through the yard looking at the various plant: banana trees, guava (from which we harvested fruit), little tomatoes, and some interesting herbs and medicinal plants I´ve never seen before. Going inside, we made cocido as part of our breakfast preparations. You boil a liter of water in a kettle. Once it is nearly hot, put three heaping spoonfuls of yerba into a pot and add a little sugar -- maybe a teaspoon. Put that on the hot stove and swish it around occasionally, so it gets just a smidge burnt. After about a minute of this, add the boiling water. Let it boil for about three minutes, until it is nice and foamy (with green foam!). Then turn off the heat, adding a half cup or so of cold water to help the yerba settle on the bottom of the pot. Wait for several minutes until it is pretty settled. Then pour the drink through a fine strainer into a thermos to keep it hot. Pour some into a mug, adding milk and sugar, and enjoy! It is a bit like a very strong rooibos tea. I like it!

After breakfast (which involved homemade guava jam, which I love), Maria and I went out to the backyard to unearth some mandioca that was buried in the reddish sandy soil. My hands got all orange -- it was delightful! She prepared them for consumption at lunch, while Becca and Laura and I walked to the Supermercado España to get a few groceries. The living of day-to-day life is what makes a place for me, and so far I love living here.

A horse pulling some kind of cart clip-clops by around 5:30 in the morning outside my and Becca´s window. Motorcycles are a common mode of transportation, even for couples with a tiny baby. There are mangos growing in Craig and Krista´s front yard, and bananas in the yard of the church where Scott and Tyler are staying down the street. People visit us often, doing everything possible to make us feel welcome, and we do. We bust out the guampa and water all the time. I am trying to partake often, but not so often that my digestive system declares mutiny. That happened last time I was in Paraguay, and I would rather not repeat the experience. :)

My host mother just pulled me outside to look at some birds native to this area, eating bread in the yard. My understanding of "normal" -- normal trees, normal streets, normal social customs, normal food, normal sleep patterns, normal fauna, normal places to see cows -- is going to undergo a bit of a shift this year. And I love it! What an adventure is beginning here. Thank you for reading about it and in this way sharing these experiences with me. Thank you also for your support, from at home and abroad. It is good to know there is a network of people who are interested, who care, and who pray for me. Blessings to you all!

En amistad,
Dorotéa

Loving Winnipeg from Afar

One of my great sources of delight on this Chicago adventure is talking about Winnipeg.

First, my t-shirts were a springboard for conversation.  I brought every shirt I own that has any kind of reference to Winnipeg or Canada on it, and I wear them all the time.

Second, there is my music.  Winnipeg has an astonishing amount of musical talent within it, and I proudly play my Winnipeg tunes for my new American friends.  It pleases me immensely to have people from Pennsylvania, Indiana, and Iowa writing down names of some of my favourite local artists, so that they can look them up online and get access to their music.  Some of the popular ones have been Cat Jahnke, House of Doc, and Flying Fox and the Hunter Gatherers.  Another Canadian artist gaining some popularity in the Radical Journey group is David Myles.  It makes my heart smile to know that, when we all get back from our adventures abroad, these Radical Journeyers will go home to their friends and spread the knowledge of awesome Canadian artists from Winnipeg.

Third, I pull out my photographs all the time.  Many of my housemates could easily identify Jonathan, Marcus, Jenn, Johanna, Sophia, my mom, my brother, and my sister, because they have been made to look at my pictures so many times.  :)  I do miss my Winnipeg people.  I talk about my favourite places in Winnipeg too.

Fourth and most recent, now that the Canadian federal election date draws closer, I have begun researching the candidates in my riding in earnest.  That is pretty exciting stuff!!!

Don't get me wrong: talking about the American election is fun, because it engenders some entertaining comments.  "If McCain gets elected, I am moving to Canada."  This comment has been made in my presence by everyone from Radical Journeyers, to a hip-hop artist performing on the "El" (train), to random people on the sidewalk.  However, interested though I may be, at the moment the American presidential election is more a source of entertainment for me than anything else.

However, talking about the Canadian election is different.  It MATTERS for me!  I get to have some say!!  And exercising my right to vote is something I feel strongly about.  I think that everyone who can vote, should.  At the very least, they should spend an hour or two thinking through what issues matter to their community, and figuring out which candidate/party will speak most clearly to those needs in Ottawa.

So, thanks to politics, I am talking about Winnipeg yet again...

James Krabill says that when people leave their home context, they either seek to dissociate themselves from their home place entirely, or else become more patriotic than ever.  You can see which side of the line I am falling on.

Chicago: City of Churches

I am a woman of many churches.

When I am at home in Winnipeg, my Sundays are shared between Fort Garry Mennonite Fellowship and St. Benedict's Table (Anglican).  I am at home in both of these places and unwilling to give up either one.  In preparation for going to Paraguay, I temporarily added a Spanish-speaking congregation to my list as well.  The difficulty for me -- and part of the reason I sometimes run the risk of getting "over-churched," as some people joke -- is that there are wonderful people seeking after the heart of God in meaningful ways everywhere.  I want to be a part of all of that!

During our month here in Chicago, we are expected to visit many different churches.  This is good for me because it means I can't get really involved at or committed to any one of them, but just participate in fellowship as a sister who is a guest.

The first Sunday we all went to First Church of the Brethren, since they are our host in the city.  People were very welcoming and delighted to have us in their midst.  Most of the congregation was Black, with a few white and Asian faces mixed in, and we were all introduced.  It being Family Day, the meditation was given by a married couple, who talked about what it had meant for them to become a family in the face of opposition to their inter-racial union.  The music was lively, with hymns from the African Heritage hymnal being accompanied by organ and lots of percussion scattered throughout the rows.  We were also in for a treat with the performance by Men of Destiny, who sang like they really meant it.

The service was followed by a fellowship lunch, in which the Radical Journey group's only contribution was to help set up and then partake of the food and visit with people.  These folks were serious about the "fellowship" part of the fellowship lunch!  Being friendly and talkative was by no means optional.  I met Orlando, the pastor of the church, and we discovered that we went to the same elementary school in Winnipeg.  The whole experience of church with this congregation was positive.

The second Sunday, I went to Living Water Community Church with three others from the group.  The worship music was almost all organic to the congregation, which reminded me of St. Benedict's Table back home.  It was cool, too, that two of the people leading the worship music were people we had met already at Emmaus Ministries.  The sermon fed into a series of ideas on community that were already floating around in my mind, so I really enjoyed that as well.  After the service, we had a snack and cup of tea and chatted with people, familiar and new, before heading back to Faith House.

In the evening of that Sunday, I went with another girl from the house to Church of Our Saviour, which is an Anglican congregation.  It was the most delightful thing!  Partly this was because I had been missing St. Benedict's Table very much and it was good to be back in the familiar ritual.  In addition to that fact, the priest's way of speaking was uncannily similar to that of Jamie Howison, my priest back home.  She even started a sentence with, "I have a hunch..."  I loved it.  It was, in an important way, like being at home.  I find that I really miss Communion too, if I go one or more Sundays without it, so it was good to get back into my routine with that.

On to Sunday number three in Chicago!  This past weekend, I went with four others to Reba Place Church.  I had heard about it from Marcus and Jenn when I was still in Winnipeg, and had been looking forward to seeing for myself what this place was all about.  It was described to me as an intentional Christian community that started 51 years ago in Evanston (a suburb north of Chicago).  For this reason, I planned on more than a morning worship service.  We e-mailed ahead, and we were invited to come for the service, then be hosted for lunch in someone's home, and then have a tour of the Fellowship (intentional community).

The service was great!  The opening song was a hymn from the standard Mennonite Hymnal: A Worship Book.  Everyone was clearly very familiar with singing four-part harmony, and it was beautifully done.  Imagine my surprise, then, when not a single hymn was sung for the rest of the service!  Every song was led by a different member of the worship team, and the styles varied drastically.  The African-American drummer led a really lively, upbeat song with lots of clapping and movement.  There was a song that involved a congregational dance around the sanctuary -- yes, really!  It was great!  There were a few classic "praise & worship" songs, but they were well chosen and had more meaningful lyrics than the stereotypical "God gives me good feelings" tunes from this category.

I just want to say right now that one of the reasons I am unwilling to commit only to one home church is that I feel multiple ways of doing worship, including music, are good and meaningful.  It has been my general experience that the same congregation cannot authentically do multiple, very different styles of worship.  Usually when a well-intentioned congregation tries too hard to implement different styles of liturgy and song, it feels kind of awkward and forced.  It has therefore been my belief that different congregations should continue to do things in their own way.  People should visit (or be a regular part of) multiple churches, to expand their horizons and learn new ways to worship, while staying connected to at least one home church.

Well, now Reba Place Church has genuinely got me wondering if I was wrong.  Maybe it IS possible to do several, totally different styles of music... in the same congregation... totally authentically and naturally.  Does this mean that maybe it is possible to have one "perfect" church?  One that can do and teach and sing everything that is worth doing and teaching and singing?  REALLY?  I have no firm conclusions about this yet.  But I am thinking about it again.

The rest of my experience at Reba Place was fantastic.  I would love to say more about that to anyone who is interested.

I continue to accumulate information and opinions about community living and what it means to be church.  Next on my "To Read" list is Shane Claiborne's Irresistible Revolution.  We'll see how that informs and shapes my thinking about the subject...

Thea's Top Ten Bible Passages

If you could only keep ten texts from the entire Bible for your personal use, to the neglect of all others, which ones could you not live without?

Tough question.

After some deliberation, I narrowed down my much longer list to the following ten. These are not the ten passages I would recommend for someone who has never read the Bible, or who needs a summary of the entire Christian faith. They are my favourites: passages that encourage and convict me. Passages that I would memorize.

The Love Chapter (1 Corinthians 13)

Love is here declared to be at the center of Christian faith, coming above all else. The ideal love described in these verses is both comforting and frightening. I find assurance that God, who is perfect love, loves us unfailingly and never ceases to hope the best for us. However, I also encounter a powerful challenge to live up to this standard of love in relation to those around me. A lifetime is not long enough to master the task set before me, to love others with this perfect love.

God Consoles God's People (Isaiah 40)

I like this image of God as a loving parent of the people Israel. God has allowed her children to live with the consequences of bad decisions and therefore to suffer, but nonetheless has compassion. Unable to watch her children suffer any more, God consoles and comforts them, assuring them of a bright and happy future. The disobedient children, with whom I can often identify, will not have to suffer the consequences of their sin forever.

God's Interrogation of Job (Job 40:1-41:11)

I love the way that God takes Job, and indirectly me, down a few pegs in this passage. Human arrogance is exposed for the folly that it is. Sometimes I turn to this passage when I have been trying to figure out how to live my life apart from God's direction, and I imagine God yelling this at me: "Brace yourself like a man! I will question you, and you shall answer me!!!" Yikes. That reminds me of my place, and of how little I know compared to God. This passage is important to reinforce a sense of humility and my need for God.

The Creation Story (Genesis 2:4-25)

I love this creation story because it is so beautiful and spontaneous. The first creation account is structured and rhythmic, and it appeals because I like poetry. This version of the story is my favourite of the two, though. Here the creation of humankind is so deliberate and intimate: God forms us out of clay with his own hands. Then we -- humankind -- are placed into the beautiful garden and given the task of caring for and serving it. I feel that this story, in an important way, gives us a sense of what we were created for.

The Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55; see also 1 Samuel 2:1-10)

A song expounding upon the glory and wonder of God, who lifts up the needy and brings down the haughty! I love it for its rebellious and daring social justice message, for its image of God as the ultimate judge and equalizer of all humanity, and for its beauty.

The Greatest Commandments (Matthew 22:34-40)

All the law, and the task of those who seek to be faithful, are summarized here. From Jesus' own lips, we receive our mandate: love God, love others. This encapsulates the selflessness with which we are required to live, and lays love out as the most important task of human beings.

Demand for Social and Environmental Justice (Micah 6)

Before the birth of shalom, there is suffering and widespread injustice caused by humankind. This passage is a strong declaration of what God demands from human beings: Justice! Mercy! Faithfulness! And it is a list of demands with consequences for failure attached. God's unfaithful people will stand trial before the mountains -- the created order which they have failed to love -- and will be reduced to nothing for their sin against it, against each other, and against God.

Hope of Future Glory for Humans and the Earth (Romans 8:18-27)

This passage gives me hope. We, as human beings, have done and continue to do a great deal of harm to the garden that we were created to care for. Likewise, we have hurt one another in unimaginable ways. This passage gives me a vision of the re-creating that God is doing to bring good out of a human mess. The entire creation is groaning in birth pains as God delivers, slowly and painfully, shalom into this garden. Part of this birth process -- perhaps the highlight -- is seeing what comes out: who the children of God that will live rightly in the garden really are.

The Beatitudes (Matthew 5:2-12)

The counter-cultural nature of Christ's message is perhaps best outlined here. Everyone who is trodden upon by society, who is rejected or dejected, is lifted up out of the dirt in this poetic passage. Jesus declares that it is the underdogs who will be truly blessed: who will be comforted, who will be shown mercy, and who will inherit the earth that they have cared for. The passage is both a reassurance to those who are suffering in the world, and a reminder to those who live in material and social comfort that the easy life is not the one of greatest blessing.  It is a challenge to our notions of what makes a good life.

Love Your Enemies (Matthew 5:43-48)

Here we see Jesus' commandment to love others drawn to its logical conclusion.  We are not spared from the difficult task of loving everyone, even those who hate us.  Of course, it is a challenge to envision what that kind of love looks like.  Looking at 1 Corinthians 13 (see above) is probably instructive, but in this passage Jesus keeps it pretty simple: we are to pray for our enemies and bless them.  Yikes!  Easily said, but not quite as easily done.  However, if we are to take seriously the life of Christ as our example, then we must necessarily pursue with whole hearts this ability to love our enemies.  Jesus spoke truth in the face of hateful lies, but in the end he submitted nonetheless to the violent force perpetrated against him and prayed for his enemies as they killed him.  This instruction from Jesus to love our enemies was not lightly spoken, and nor should it be taken lightly but us who read it now.

So there they are. Ten Bible passages I couldn't live without. They say a lot about me, I think, and the aspects of my faith that I consider central. It will be interesting to see if this list is still the same at the end of my Radical Journey adventure.

Thinking about Community

A few days ago, I started reading Brian D. McLaren's A Search for What is Real: Finding Faith.  The book focuses on experiential acquisition and practice of faith, with the first chapter highlighting five common ways people experience God.  While I responded to all five in my journal -- nature, ritual, obedience, worship/art, and community -- I surprised myself by writing the most about community as an experience of God.

My understanding of the church as community began at CMU (Canadian Mennonite University), where I heard its importance being expounded upon for the first time.  I carried this notion into my search for a home church in south Winnipeg.  It spurred my spontaneous decision to volunteer as a youth sponsor at Fort Garry Mennonite Church (FGMF) -- I wanted to really know people, and that meant getting involved.  Likewise, I jumped at every chance to get involved at CMU, because I wanted to be a contributing member of the community to which I belonged.

My experiences at both CMU and FGMF have been significant in forming my understanding of Christian community.  I have seen not only the broad love and concern that people have for one another, but also the active interest and specific involvement that people have in each other's lives.  This has begun to open my eyes and my mind to a way of living in purposeful relationship with others.  Not only that, but it also prepared me for my most intense and formative experience of community thus far.

During the last month and a half that I spent in Winnipeg, I lived on Fawcett with a houseful of fantastic roommates.  For most purposes, though, my home was on Alloway with the Rempel/Nast-Kolb crew.  Marcus, Jenn, and their wonderful daughters -- together with their roommate Jonathan (who is also my boyfriend) -- came to feel like a family to me.  I tried to figure it out the other day: how did these people become my family?  What can I learn from them about the formation and practice of genuine community?

I thought of a few things.  Much of the relationship began with encounters on the sidewalk.

  Marcus and Jenn demonstrated a general willingness to engage in conversation.  As we chatted more and more often, it became clear to me that they don't maintain the conventional physical and emotional distance from others.  I was welcomed into their house, and then into the stuff of daily life.  I got to participate in painting walls and making supper.  I was welcome to be part of celebrating birthdays and splash-pad visits, and eventually I even got to spend a weekend on the farm.

The key things that emerge from this experience are the broad sense of invitation, and the eagerness of the person being invited in to participate fully in relationship and in quotidian activity.  

These lessons learned, then, are what I am taking with me.  I have brought this understanding of community living to Chicago, where it is informing the way I live with 15 other people.  Perhaps even more importantly, I will go to Paraguay with this beginning of knowledge.

This past Sunday, I went to the worship service at Living Water Community Church.  Reflecting on the powerful story of Jonathan and David's friendship, pastor Sally Longquist led me to think further about intentional relationship.  She pointed out that sometimes God sets us up for relationship with the most unlikely people -- people we would never choose on our own.  What matters in these instances is not the personalities of the people involved, or their interests.  Instead, what the success of the relationship depends on is the intentionality with which it is pursued.  Both parties need to be open to the possibility that they have a lot to learn from each other.  That they NEED something that the other has to give, even.  When relationship is intentionally and lovingly pursued, God can pour profoundest blessing on the people  involved, through each other.

As I go to meet my host family in Paraguay, I go hoping to be incorporated into their household.  I go hoping to love and be loved, to need and be needed, to give and to receive.  It is my great hope that they, likewise, will receive me in a spirit of invitation: a welcome into full participation in their daily living.

Above all, I go expecting to learn a lot about what it means to live in Christian community.

Hymn Sing!

What is the best thing about Mennonite young adults?

Well, I don't know.  That is probably an unfair question.  But one of my favourite things about living, working, eating, and playing with a big group of them is their musicality!

I should have realized how awesome this month was going to be, music-wise, when we sang The Doxology for grace before a meal.  That is my favorite song in the universe.  Even putting that bias aside, the harmonies were beautiful and the voices powerful.

Yesterday the Radical Journey group spent the afternoon and evening sharing our stories.  We talked about the experiences that have brought us to where we are in our lives and in our faith.  This is never an easy exercise in a large group, because people's lives inevitably involve some pain.  Predictably enough, after many hours of this sharing and listening and praying over one another, we were emotionally exhausted.

What was less predictable was the response of the group:

"Hey!  We should have a hymn-sing!"

"YEAH!"

"YEAH!"

"YEAH!"

And indeed, the majority of us gathered around the piano in the church sanctuary.  We sang songs from Hymnal: A Worship Book, and from Sing the Journey.  Many, many songs.  We were astonished to realize how late it was getting when, at 10:30, we were still going strong!

The wonder in this experience, for me, was not primarily the beauty of the music we were making.  Although it was certainly beautiful.

Nor was it the enthusiasm with which we raided the church's percussion basket, playing tambourines and drums and maracas to the more upbeat songs in Sing the Journey.  Although that was impressive too, given that we are a bunch of North American Mennonites who don't generally dance during worship.

No, the aspect of our hymn sing that made the deepest impression on me was the deep love that Mennonite young people have for these songs.

It moved me to realize that these young people have been shaped, encouraged, and strengthened in their faith by many of the same songs that have been influential for me.  We are connected to our home congregations by these songs.  They bring up memories of struggles we have overcome and moments that we have celebrated!  Perhaps best of all, they are our connection to the past and to the future of our church.

I am so glad I have learned to love hymns in my lifetime.  And I am especially glad that other Mennonite young people love hymns as well.

Fun Times Playing Duck-Duck-Goose

I don't think I have ever had more fun playing duck-duck-goose than I did yesterday.

It was supposed to be my day to serve in one of the many community gardens of Chicago.  I had been looking forward to that, as the gardens here make me think of my own garden in Winnipeg.  Most of the vegetables there will soon be ready to harvest.  However, this gardening adventure was not to be.

After ten of us took the bus to the garden, we turned right around and came back to Faith House because of the rain.  Arriving back, our alternate assignment was ready: go to Gads Hill Center and volunteer as teaching assistants with pre-schoolers.  I was excited to be given a task I knew how to do well.

Sam (from the Sweden team) and I worked in the class with 5-year-olds.  When we arrived, they were playing at a wide variety of activities.  I was included in some sandbox adventures and I also joined a group of little girls who were playing with a nifty collection of buttons.  We sorted out the green ones, just for fun!  :)  The big dimpled smiles, runny noses, and eager hands reaching for my own were reminiscent of little smiles and hands back home.  

The preschool center is fully bilingual, and the staff and students switched back and forth between Spanish and English with ease.  The story was read in Spanish: ?Me Quieres, Mama?  I tried my hardest to understand as the teacher explained and dramatized the pages.  Then lunchtime happened in English: soy burgers, zucchini slices with dip, and mashed yams.  The food reminded me of the things I would commonly eat in Winnipeg, especially the zucchini.

More than just having fun and being reminded of some of my favorite things and people from back home, my day with 5-year-olds gave me a glimmer of new hope.  I have seen some pretty clear evidence of race division and racism already in Chicago, and it has been really hard to deal with.  It was really good for that reason to see a whole bunch of preschoolers -- White, Black, and Hispanic -- mix and play and talk in two languages with one another, without apparent regard for their surface differences.  It makes me wonder if this kind of programming on a large scale could make a difference for the future of race relations in Chicago and elsewhere.  After all, if we are capable of teaching hate and inequality, the good news is that we should be able to teach acceptance and mutuality just as well.  Five-year-olds having a blast playing duck-duck-goose together make that possibility believable.

First days in Chicago

Hello everyone!

So far, I love Chicago! Which has a lot to do with how much it reminds me of Winnipeg, but let me back up a few steps before I say too much about that.

I left Winnipeg on Saturday morning (September 6th). Walking out of the house was one of the hardest things about leaving -- I could hardly tear myself away. I actually had to walk from room to room saying goodbye to the physical space. Is that strange? I'd been goodbyeing for just over two weeks already, starting with co-workers and then various friends and family members. The most tears were reserved for the last 24 hours, though.

On the Friday night before I left, I had to say goodbye to Johanna (8) and Sophia (5), who basically own my heart. I thought that would be the worst of it, but the real tears started when I said goodbye to their parents, Marcus and Jenn.

The next morning, I had to say goodbye to my mom, my brother, and my boyfriend, Jon. More tears -- many more! But it was wonderful to know that I have so many people in my life worth missing while I am away. And when I finally

 drove off in the car with Scott Bergen and his parents, I was glad not to be one of the people standing at the curb watching the car drive away. That's even worse.

What followed was a two-day trip through a few states, stopping for meals and to stretch our legs, on our way to Chicago. The scenery was lovely and I quite enjoyed the trip itself. I just refused to think about our destination and what would happen once we got there.

Until we actually drove into Chicago.

I was really excited to realize that we are in a beautiful city!!! Parts of it are ugly by

 conventional standards, I grant you, but much of it is very pretty. There are lovely trees. The downtown skyline is unbelievable. The actual buildings in the downtown are gorgeous -- like the best parts of Winnipeg's Exchange District, but on a much grander scale! The buildings are far larger and more numerous and are in better repair. One of these buildings is the main library, which is eight storeys high and full of marble and high ceilings and beautiful wood panelling and artwork and security guards... Oh, and books, too.

There is far more that I want to say about this place, and about Faith House and the 15 other young people who presently live there with me. That will have to wait for now. Suffice it to say that I am having an amazing experience thus far and look forward to keeping you all posted!

Love,
Thea