Pitfalls and Perfections of Parishes: A Partner Post with Luci Martin

My friend Luci is a prolific blogger. Especially this month. She's been posting almost every day in November, and her commitment to the #writeeverydaychallenge is quite something. Last Wednesday, at the end of her publication for the day, she asked her readers for discussion question ideas. When I sent her one about large and small congregations, she liked it. I found out that when she mentioned doing a partner post with me on the topic, she was serious. I thought it sounded fun, even though I didn't know what a partner post was. When I discovered that she didn't really know either, I thought it sounded even more fun - to explore it together. 

That is how this unofficial partner post with Luci officially came about. I asked her questions regarding her congregation, and she asked me questions about the two different church communities I've experienced in my life. After quibbling a bit about which of us two is more articulate, and both of us confessing some nervousness about answering each other's questions, we got down to it. You can read the results of the "interviews" over on her blog, and here on mine. Following are the questions I asked about her church and community in BayTree, Alberta, along with her answers:

1. If you describe your current congregation as small and remote, in terms of size and the distance you are from other Anabaptist churches, what sort of stereotypical labels of such a congregation make your defensive hackles rise?

I think that being considered sheltered and antiquated and redneck because we're off grid as far as Mennonites go is probably what would irritate me most. But I feel that is probably my own insecurity speaking. The vibes I described are not ones we get often from others. Usually people are curious and respectful of our choice to live where we do.

2. You’ve attended the same church basically all your life. What are some of the advantages and disadvantages of becoming so rooted in one place?

Advantages: You're not just able to leave your relationship problems or grievances against leadership or discontentment and find a church that's a tad more to your liking. You need to stay and work it out, leave (your type of) Mennonite church, or move away. The core people become a close knit group.

Your wider community relationships go far, far back and things feel solid and familiar.

Disadvantages: boredom, it's easy to become complacent and lukewarm, you may be less likely to try new things that involve stepping out of your comfort zone, it's easy to develop a resistance to change.

I feel that independence and individualism are a very real threat to a small church group. You'd think the smallness would keep us relying on each other, but where there might be a dearth in support or strong examples to follow, it can be easy to turn inward and just get by on your own somehow. 

3. In what ways, if any, do you think that these advantages and disadvantages would be different if your dad hadn’t been a part of the ministry in your congregation as you were growing up?

Hmmm. Dad being a minister definitely helped us get out more than some of our peers did. We went yearly to ministers meetings and large fellowship gatherings. But our family may also have contributed to the lackadaisical attitude a small, ingrown church can adopt so easily. When the leaders aren't fresh and current, the church feels it.

4. For a time, your whole family was a part of your church. What are some specific things your parents did to encourage you all to bond as a family while also expanding your friendship and love to include the rest of the congregation as well as engaging with visitors, neighbors, and unbelievers?

When I was growing up, no topic was off the table in our home. We hashed them all out. My parents were also very hospitable to ALL the people groups you describe. My mom looked out for marginalized people and we ate with and housed anyone God put in my parents' path.

We didn't always speak kindly about our church family when we were together, but our loyalty was fierce and we stood up for each other. I don't remember ever having the kind of drama that meant we weren't speaking to someone in church or avoiding them. Problems were usually worked on.

5. What helps a person to recognize they are/their congregation is becoming ingrown? Do they actually have to get out of the setting in some way, or at least broaden their horizons in order to recognize what’s happening? What do you think you would do as an individual if you sensed your congregation is too inward-focused to be healthy?

For me personally, my ingrown-ness is manifest the most when I see the needs in the larger community around me and don't think I can relate or understand or care for the hurting.

When it comes to being ingrown and unable to relate to other Anabaptist groups, it's a different scenario. I do feel that "getting out" to Bible school and job opportunities and visiting other churches is of utmost importance. It rounds out your perspective and feeds your intellect and introduces you to new blood.

My 17 year old daughter said this: "It's actually easy for any Mennonites to become ingrown, and it's sometimes even worse in large communities. You have your friends, your job, your youth group, etc."

And sometimes when you've got it all right there, you never see beyond and try something new.

As to your third question under #5 (your expectations are high, Danette!), what I would personally do if I sense becoming ingrown as a problem?

Umm...this is a hard question. I'd encourage Bible school for the youth, travel, broadening friendships in our own community and among other Anabaptists, volunteering, etc.

6. If there are fewer people with whom to “compare among yourselves” in a small, isolated congregation, does that lessen the tendency to be jealous of others?

Possibly. Probably.

But there's also this type of scenario: There are only two of you in grade 3. Your friend always gets better grades. It wears you down that you can never beat her. You may go through school always feeling less than. In a larger setting, there would be 12 students in grade 3, two you can seldom beat in academics, six of you who are similar and competitive, and four who seldom perform quite to the standard you are able to achieve.

There may be a greater sense of belonging in a larger, more varied setting.

(And woe to that third grader who was always at the top of her two person class when she gets out and meets people at Bible school who get straight A pluses when she's just an average student.)

7. How is growth of a church (in numbers) accomplished best in a setting like yours?

Common to a lot of us who are of our stripe and flavour of Mennonite, we haven't done ourselves proud with growing from the community around us. Sadly.

We have recently been growing from within and God is also giving us some young families and singles from other communities.

I've long given up on making people Mennonites. I think we're here to be a safe place, a nudge in the right direction, the hands and feet of Jesus, that touch of joy, hope, love, or truth someone encounters. I pray my quick smile or act of kindness makes someone want to encounter the Jesus I serve. Maybe I am just lazy or not on fire enough?

When we became leaders in our church, Dan said often that he takes comfort in Jesus's words that HE will build HIS church. It's not our job. The church belongs to Jesus.

8. Let’s say that a newcomer to your congregation has some really good ideas for improving an event, a method, or a situation in your church, but to go with that person’s ideas would mean uncomfortable change for some in your congregation because it’s so different from “the way it’s always been done”. How would you advise your people to proceed in the case of a newcomer posing this perceived threat to the (written or unwritten) established pattern?

I don't tend to be a traditionalist personally, so I'd like to believe that I'm open to change. To embrace big changes, our church would operate very democratically. Probably the issue would come to discussion and likely a membership vote.

9. In a small church, how do you get everything done? Do members of your congregation need to double up on the jobs? Do you ever resent having to take on more than your share of the load?

It's been a hard road, in some ways.

Everyone is just really expected to do their part. If you can't make it to school cleaning, you trade with your friend and take her place next time. Or you tell your group to leave the bathrooms and you'll do them the next day.

Yes, I remember years when the song leader would put down his song book and pick up his Bible and have Sunday school devotions.

There have definitely been days of resentment and burnout. It feels like God has been so gracious lately in giving us a few more people to round out the responsibility load.

10. How do you cope with the lack of opportunity to do huge church events or sing in a couple-hundred-voice choir or bring in thousands of dollars for your school at a community-wide fundraiser?

I guess this answer proves that I truly am "bushed": I don't just love huge church events and I'm glad we don't have to make pies and quilts for fundraisers! I'm not a singer, so I don't mind not being able to join a huge choir. I would like to be able to listen to them more often, though. Edmonton is a long ways away to go hear Handel's Messiah and southern Alberta is far to go to hear an SMBI program.

I think it is of ultimate importance for our youth to get out and experience the wider Mennonite world. We lived for those experiences as young people growing up in BayTree. Not all of our peers did, though.

Honestly, I still live for those times. But still not all of my peers do.

Here's the 17 year old again: Honestly, I'm cool with it. I kind of like having a smaller friend group. The choir thing I sometimes long for, but I plan to be part of other choirs in the future. And we had our church/community choir and that was really good.

Added note:

If you are a dyed-in-the-wool Anabaptist of a similar type and flavour to me, you may be wondering if it is easier to lose our youth because of the "advantage" I posed in question #2's answer....

That it's hard to find another church similar but a tad different from our own if we become unhappy and we have about three options: work things out, leave the Anabaptists altogether, or move to a likeminded church farther away.

I think it's more likely that people will abandon the Mennonite faith more quickly in a remote setting like ours. And that's sad to us who love and embrace it.

I hope I didn't come across as smug and self-satisfied in who we are as a remote community. I often wish my children could have experienced a broader Anabaptist experience. I know that where I grew up and where they are growing up has shaped us incredibly much. Hopefully more positively than negatively. But where's the scale and who mans it?

A huge thank you to Luci for answering my questions with her typical thoughtful observations and wise conclusions. Maybe this exchange has sparked some interest in you regarding the topic. If so, feel free to share your thoughts and questions with the rest of us.

Luci with her family

Bear With Me

Bear with me as I ponder some phrases that show up when I've got Bear with me.

"a black Bear from the States"   He sometimes uses this description when referring to himself having come across the border to visit us and other friends he has in Canada. Decades ago, when he was in high school, his class did a play in which the characters were animals. He played the role of a bear and wore a big furry brown coat for his part. After that, his classmates started calling him Bear, and the name stuck. Although he doesn't hesitate to call himself a black bear, we aren't sure that we should refer to him as black. We sometimes ask him what the preferred term is, knowing that Negro is no longer considered acceptable by many of his color. African American? Person of Color? He doesn't seem to mind what the term is. Accepting him as one of us is more important to him than us making sure we get the right description. 

"Canadian cubs"  With a name like Bear, one naturally takes on bear lingo, I guess. Bear often refers to children and teens as cubs or young bearcubs. Sometimes he calls his home the Bear Den (or cave, or hollow log), refers to his hands as paws, and says he's growling when he's only talking. Leaving a crowd and going to his room for a rest, or not messaging his social media friends for awhile can be described as going into hibernation. He's also been known to issue his friends bear-related nicknames such as Cub Ears, Winnie the Pooh, Goldilocks, and Brown Bear. 

"running around" and "seeing people"  Bear became blind when he was quite young. He and his twin brother were preemies, and were on oxygen while in incubators after their birth. This was decades ago, before doctors knew the detrimental effects that too much oxygen can have on premature infants' eyes. Because his oxygen levels weren't carefully monitored, Bear's eyesight was permanently damaged; he has been coping with blindness for most of his life. He doesn't use a white cane nor does he own a seeing eye dog; his friends have been his guides throughout his life. Being blind doesn't keep him from "running around", as he calls it. When he came to our house on his first visit here, we were amazed at how quickly he learned to know the place. The first few times I heard him say that he saw this person, or that he'll be seeing that cub next month, it fascinated me coming from someone who can't see. But he sees people by hearing their voice, by being in their presence, and sometimes, if appropriate, by hugging them. 

"one another"  If you'd ask Bear how he came to know us (Kihnny & Dihnette), he'd probably say, "We've known one another for fifteen years now" or "We met one another at Storybook Camp in 2007". This refers to our place of meeting when our family first attended a week-long gathering for families called FOCIS (Families of Christ in Service) in northern Minnesota. Bear is a rather permanent fixture at this annual meeting. He and our family stayed in the same cabin at Storybook Camp that year, and Bear took a special liking to our boys who were fifteen and thirteen at the time. Our family's mere acquaintance with Bear in the summer of 2007 quickly deepened into a lasting friendship, especially after he began making yearly visits to our home. As I've heard Bear talk about various people he's gotten to know, I've picked up on his terminology: where I say "each other", he tends to use the biblical phrase "one another" - and it seems a fitting way to describe mutual relationships. Also, Bear uses the phrase "keeping company with one another" to describe a boy cub dating a girl cub. I think that is quaint and sweet. 

"you folk"  Other homey phrases that Bear uses in referring to us two and our family is "you people" and its close cousin "you folk". "What are you folk up to tonight?" he might ask us when he's at our house and, having his own evening plans lined up, is waiting on one of his friends in the area to come pick him up to go out for supper. Or he'll inquire about our December schedule: "Are you folk going to hear Messiah this Christmas?"  Sometimes he'll half-scold us in his voice message on our phone: "You people never stay home!" His astonishment over discovering our acquaintances and relatives North America-wide will have him extending the "you people" phrase beyond our household to include Mennonites in general: "You people know everybody!" 

"a little more honey, please"  Bear has distinct likes and dislikes when it comes to food and beverages and he feels free to let you know what they are. Breakfast cereal can be a mix of three or four different kinds, and he prefers to eat it dry - without milk. Eggs should be fried hard, wiener schnitzel shouldn't be too dry, and cookies should be made with butter. (In fact, many foods are enhanced by subjecting them to butter on, in, or under) Cold beverages such as water and juice need plenty of ice in them. Bear's taste for hot beverages are quite exclusive. No coffee for him, but tea will do just fine. English Breakfast, Earl Grey, and peppermint tea are favorites. The water should be as hot as possible, and when the tea has steeped long enough, a generous teaspoon of honey should be stirred in. Shortbreads, cutout cookies, or donuts - sour cream and the old-fashioned glazed ones from Tim Horton's - would make wonderful sidekicks. And to the tea for a Bear, could you add a little more honey, please?

"Hey!"  Bear expresses himself spontaneously, intensely, and uniquely. That's why we're bound to hear him declare, Yeah right! or Get out! when he can't quite believe something is true, or when someone is pulling his leg. When he's riding in the van with us, we often hear him shout "Hey!" or some equivalent word, or yelp out an expression that isn't really a word but carries definite meaning, when Kenni swerves suddenly or hits the rumble strips at the side of the road. We've come to realize more vividly how vulnerable a blind person must feel when in riding in a vehicle at the mercy of the driver. It makes a passenger feel a little safer on the road if he or she can at least see what's going on, so we try to drive carefully and explain sudden moves that may feel unsettling to Bear when he's along. We have more to learn from him in this area...

"a snoot and a snob"  Bear also has definite music tastes. He prefers classical and choral music to country and contemporary, and is very partial to Bach. (Sorry, Tennessee Ernie Ford, you get the dismissive tone - "that song sounds like something you'd sing when you're out with the chickens") A couple of times during a recent visit here, Bear went downstairs to the guest room and hung out there by himself for awhile, listening to podcasts on an early music theme. Later he told me he was just being a snoot and a snob. There are plenty of ways he shares music, though, too. I love hearing him sing solos. He makes a song come alive. Bear has a ton of hymns memorized and he will gladly share one (all sixteen verses!) with listeners, asked or unasked.

"well, m' dear"  When Bear is winding down a conversation with someone on the phone, he often uses an affectionate term - m' dear - in ending the call. "Well, m' dear, it's been great talking with you." It's probably habit, but I think that he really does love the people he contacts and this is his way of conveying appreciation for them. Bear often breaks down in tears when he speaks of the blessing our family has been to him. We can tell that he considers us some of his dear people. He has a whole crowd of dear people in his acquaintance and friendship. We have seen him interact with people and we've noticed things that touch him - people who are grieving the loss of loved ones, those who are doubting God and walking away from Him, those who are discouraged and ill. He has been a great mentor for many a cub, as well as encouraged and challenged us many times. Truly Bear sees with the eyes of his heart.

To those of you who know Bear, what signature phrases of his have I missed?

How To Treat A 57-year-old Woman

 

If you’re a lady ten years her senior and you don’t know her from Eve, but you talk to her anyway as you get up from your seat in a McDonald’s booth where you’ve been having a snack with your friend. You walk by the table where’s she’s sitting with her elderly friend, munching fries and chatting, and you say to her in a casual but friendly, sincere manner, “By the way, I really like your dress.”

If you’re an 8-year-old son in a family who has just welcomed a new baby and you’re impressed with the meal she made to help out your mom, you dig into the Butterfingers Delight for a second helping and exclaim, “This should be called ‘Hallelujah Dessert’!”

If you’re a young lady from her church and you’re taking part in the feet-washing aspect of a Communion Sunday service for the first time and she offers to partner with you at the water basin, you accept. When it is your turn to kneel and “gird the towel” for her, your glance takes in her skinny toes and cracked heels, but you look up and tell her, “I don’t know if anyone ever told you this before, but you have beautiful feet.”

If you’re her dad, and on her birthday you’re far away from her home and away from your own home at a church function, you take a break after lunch and go for a bit of a walk away from the noise and bustle of the event so you can phone her. In the conversation, you reminisce about the day she was born (It was just as brilliantly sunny as this day is, and you were so excited about being dad for the first time – to TWO baby girls – that you could hardly keep your feet on the ground) and ask her the familiar questions such as “Are you doing anything special to celebrate?” and then just before ending the call, you gather up your fatherly affection and advice and affirmation and roll it into one heartfelt statement: “Love you, Daughter.”

If she’s not your mom biologically or otherwisely, (after all, you’re old enough to be her mom) but she has mothered you in kind of a roundabout way, you send her a card and/or call her to wish her a Happy Mother’s Day. With genuine pleasure you enter into the joy of her family gathering ‘round and rising up to call her blessed. (This in spite of your personal never-to-be-fulfilled longing to have your own children and grandchildren.)

If you’re a peer of hers who knows your way around in the areas of food, art, politics, and nearly everything else better than she does, you enjoy hanging out with her anyway. When you ride with her to a ladies’ party at a restaurant in town, and she’s maneuvering the route in the city rather confidently, you declare, “You drive these back streets like a pro!”

If you notice her love of photography and you’re a noticer of beauty/lover of creativity yourself, you send her a note including the words “…thank you so much for faithfully taking and sharing your beautiful photos. It’s not listed as a spiritual gift, it certainly seems akin to being one, in my opinion. To realize the beauty of little moments and scenes, and then to be willing to pause and be present enough to take a photo of them…”

If you wear titles such as Prolific Writer of Books as well as The Ann Landers of MennoWorld, and you happen to have a little “writery” tete-a-tete with her at a conference, you (in the midst of your Opinions on a certain subject) listen to her piece of wisdom (that she’s not even giving as such), and then you turn around and quote her in one of your blog posts because her “What would you advise instead?” stinger of a question would not stop buzzing in your head.

If you’re a reader (male or female) of Dani’s Discoveries, you sometimes stop and tell her, when you see her and she’s least expecting to hear it, that you read her blog. And you make it sound like reading it is an enjoyable experience.

If you’re someone who has just read this blog post, instead of thinking that wow, now there’s one 57-year-old woman who is obsessed with affirmation, you acknowledge the impact of a word fitly spoken. You decide that when something impresses you favorably about someone, be they 7 or 57 or 97, you’ll take a moment to mention it to them in sincerity. You realize that they could get all shy or inwardly spluttery about it. (Pretty dress, what!? This ancient, faded, “pilly” thing? I wasn’t planning to wear it to town, but I forgot to change before coming to McDonald’s!) But you do it anyway, because you just might make their day. Or month. Or year. 

Still Learning

Participating in a church service is such a great way to slow down during the Christmas season. This morning at Oasis, Rolin led the worship-through-singing part of our Sunday morning service. The theme of the songs he chose to lead during our congregational singing had to do with becoming still before God in wonder and worship. God's presence brings calm and peace, even in the midst of stressful times. 

Of course, I made the connection between his theme and my own December intention of slowing down to be found by God.

Later, Pastor Richard, in his message on Why Christmas Matters, spoke of Christmas songs that help to teach us theology. He mentioned "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing" in particular, and we sang that song at the end of the service. 

Since these songs are on my mind tonight, I thought I'd list some lines from them that especially stood out to me during church today. It will be a refer-to list for one who is still learning to be still.

1. Be still and know that I am God, In Thee...I will put my trust, I (will) rejoice and sing beneath...Thy wing*

2. Be still, my soul, bear patiently...grief or pain, thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake...when change and tears are past...safe and blessed we shall meet at last*

3. A rose...from tender stem hath sprung, this flower...dispels with glorious splendor the darkness everywhere...from sin and death He saves us and lightens every load*

4. Silent night, holy night...is calm, Holy Infant, so tender and mild, sleep in heavenly peace, Love's pure light radiant beams from Thy holy face with the dawn of redeeming grace*

5. A child of hope is born...the Prince of Peace...justice shall guard His throne above and peace abound below*

6. The herald angels sing...Peace on earth and mercy mild, veiled in flesh the Godhead see; Hail the incarnate Deity, pleased as man with men to dwell...our Emmanuel!*

I can tell already that it will be good practice for me to slow down and ponder the words of Christmas carols when I sing them this season. 

1. "Be Still and Know That I Am God"

2. "Be Still, My Soul"

3. "Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming"

4. "Silent Night, Holy Night"

5. "To Us a Child of Hope Is Born"

6. "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing"

"My Hat Hurts"

 

 

Have you ever noticed how the little people, the ones we think we bigger people can teach things to, are often the ones to teach us stuff?

I thought about this when I met a wonderful little boy named Brayden back in January when I went with Ken to some board meetings in Reading, PA. We stayed with Brayden's family (he has wonderful parents and siblings, too) for a few days, which I mentioned in this post.

Observing Brayden made me ponder my relationship with God, and how He might view me as His daughter who is growing up (trying to, anyway) as she does life.

I found myself asking God if, to Him, I'm like Brayden in these ways:

1. I say "My hat hurts", when really it's my head being scrunched into a tight hat that is uncomfortable. I express hurt from my perspective, while He knows all things...He knows where the hurt really stems from and He's taken great pains to heal that hurt. Nonetheless, He wants me to tell Him how I'm hurting, in my own words, from my perspective. And sometimes, without saying anything, He reaches down motherly hands and gently rearranges the hat.

2. I whine and complain and demand in a loud voice and then He says, "Danette, stop and look Me in the face. Say, 'Please may I have...?'"

3. Someone - a sibling, no less - corrects me scornfully, but I don't want to take it as truth. I keep saying blue blasketball because it's easiest and I don't want anyone telling me what to do or how to change. Especially when they know perfectly well what I mean. Even if an adult says, "If we, along the same lines, call you Blayden instead of Brayden, is that okay?", I say "Sure!" - I'm that set in my own ways and wisdom. (God, do You shake Your head over me sometimes?)

4. When I carefully line up my dinkies on the carpet in two rows side by side with a narrow aisle between and a younger brother who is not feeling very well comes up to my little cars with an excited giggle and triumphant grin and tries to toddle through, stepping one foot into that aisle, I get all fearful and uptight. "He's messin' up my cars!" I shriek. And He holds me and says, "No, he's not. I'm watching him. I'll pick him up if he wrecks your lines. Come, let's sit together and watch him try to walk through the path. Here, let's make the aisle between the cars a little wider for him..."

5. My favorite song is "How Great Thou Art". At first, I want to listen to my favorite recording of that song and sing along with it on Mommy's phone while we're riding in the van, but Daddy has it on his phone and he's not with us right now so Mommy says she can't play it. Then a stranger in the van suggests we sing it all together and I protest at first, but then concede. All ages and genders and acquaintances, family and strangers sing "How Great Thou Art" and it sounds beautiful and it's fun because we're all singing about Someone and to Someone bigger than ourselves. Of course, I don't understand all of this, but I understand some of this. It brings me peace and contentment. And great delight.

So that's what Brayden taught me last month.
What have you learned from the littles in your life lately?

This Post's Quote:

My teacher daughters sometimes come home from school with funny stories or sayings originating in their classrooms. Like this one, as overheard during chat time at lunch: A student related in somewhat dramatic detail a description of a mother cat on their farm that had the nasty habit of eating her own kittens. Another student piped up, "Would that be called 'cattibalism'?"

This Post's Childhood Memory:

I remember a toy coffee perk that my sister and I loved to play with in our make-believe kitchen. The picture of it in my mind is rather indistinct, but I think it had red and clear plastic parts. It was designed in such a way that when you tipped the perk as if to pour its contents and set the pot back down again, some dark liquid inside would bubble up to make you believe you were perking coffee. (not unlike the vanishing milk toy baby bottles from the '60s) When we weren't playing with the coffee perk, we usually kept it in the little wooden cupboard that our daddy built for us, but sometimes we forgot to put it away. It was bad news the times that the perk was sitting on the living room heater and we forgot to put it away - I remember the sinking feeling of coming into the living room and seeing the prized toy with its bottom half partially melted, rendered almost useless from being on the heat too long. (It seems like we went through a couple of coffee perks this way.) I still have a partial set of dishes we used to play with long ago - a few of the red plastic cups and some of the little tin saucers and plates - but sadly, no perking coffee pot!