Monday, April 18, 2016

Sermon Interrupted by Life

I slipped out of the service just before preaching—old guys will understand the need I felt. As I stepped back to the door of the sanctuary to re-enter the service, I could hear the prayer preceding the sermon. Wilma (one of the church’s pastors) was still praying, so all was good. Then I saw a couple who had just come into the open area beside the sanctuary. They were waiting at the bottom of a small flight of stairs and called to me, “May we speak to the pastor?” I might have looked like the pastor, but I was just the guest speaker.

I replied, “She’s just finishing the pastoral prayer, but I’ll speak to her as she comes down from the pulpit”—a nice old-fashioned stage with a big impressive pulpit and choir loft and organ. I asked them to come on up the steps and wait in the narthex, while I called Wilma. Then I went on in and sat down.

“Amen.” Wilma came off the stage and I told her about the couple. She went out to meet them, and I stepped up to the pulpit. As I started talking about John 10, I saw the couple come in and sit down. They were middle-aged, First Nations at a guess. This put me in a quandary. My notes read:
A basic theme throughout this section of John’s gospel is that Jesus is calling the people to follow him, so that they can find God. We can mock them for their failure to recognize God in the person of Jesus, but I have some sympathy for them. Jesus was from Galilee. Sometimes in Canada we tell Newfie jokes. Well, in our terms Jesus was a Newfie—or an Indian from up north. Jesus came from the margins and represented the margins of society. It is not surprising that the people did not recognize God when Jesus spoke. Yet the way to life was found only in hearing Jesus and recognizing his voice as the voice of God.

Well, my native from up north was sitting down to my right about four rows back. I skipped that line and made Jesus a Newfie. If I had been sure that the couple could see my notes, so that they knew I didn’t add the description because they were there, I might have used it. Jesus probably impressed the Pharisees a lot like natives impress many Manitobans, ringing out all our prejudices and skepticism. But to say the words as they sat there; I couldn’t do it.

They left before I spoke about the Dene People and Tadoule Lake. I was a bit sorry. I was using a Canadian experience to understand the distress of 21st Century life. I wish I could have listened to their thoughts. I learned afterwards that the pastor gave them a gift card, and that they chose to spend five or 10 minutes with us before they went on their way.


The interruption had the effect of making my illustration-application either better, or artificial. I don’t know which. I know it made me wonder how I dare to say the things I say when I preach. Sermon interrupted by life.

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Behind the Scenes (What's Really Going On?)

Introduction
As often happens with the lectionary, we have three separate texts this morning, each with its own action and ideas. I began my preparation with a basic idea in mind, but if I am to hear the Scripture speak, I have to set that idea aside and ask what the texts say. Once we hear the texts themselves, then we can ask what God is saying to us this morning. Join me, then, in this journey through the lectionary texts.

John 10: 22-30
We begin with the gospel reading from John 10.
Verses 22-24 set up the action: Jesus was in the Temple courts near Solomon’s Porch. The Jews—who in John represent the people in Judaism who do not follow Jesus—challenged him to answer their question (“Are you the Messiah?) with a simple yes or no.
In verses 25 and 26 Jesus replies that he has already answered their question, but because they refuse to accept him, they cannot hear his answer. “You are not my sheep.”
Verses 27 to 29 give Jesus’ thoughts on those who are his sheep. “Those who follow me know me the way that sheep know the Shepherd. They follow me, and I give them eternal life.
Then in verse 30 he answers the Jews’ question as clearly as possible, “I and my Father are one.” When you remember that the Jews’ own confession of faith begins with the affirmation of unity, you can see how his answer might upset them. They cry out, “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.” Jesus says quietly, “I and my Father are one.”

What do we hear in this brief section? In the passage before these verses, Jesus speaks directly to the Pharisees. They think of themselves as protectors of God’s Chosen People. He calls them in effect “thieves and robbers” who betray the sheep (his image here for the Chosen People). The Jews—those listening to his words—disagree with each other. Some say that his teachings are the kind the Messiah would give; others say that his teachings must come from a demon. This is why they ask the question they do. After the verses in our passage, the Jews try to stone him for blasphemy, but “he escaped their grasp” (verse 39).

A basic theme throughout this section of John’s gospel is that Jesus is calling the people to follow him, so that they can find God. We can mock them for their failure to recognize God in the person of Jesus, but I have some sympathy for them. Jesus was from Galilee. Sometimes in Canada we tell Newfie jokes. Well, in our terms Jesus was a Newfie—or an Indian from up north. Jesus came from the margins and represented the margins of society. It is not surprising that the people did not recognize God when Jesus spoke. Yet the way to life was found only in hearing Jesus and recognizing his voice as the voice of God.

Acts 9: 36-43
The episode is placed just after a major shift in Acts—from an emphasis on Peter’s ministry to an emphasis on Paul. The first 19 verses of the chapter tell the conversion story of Saul, the young man who held people’s coats while they stoned Stephen and who was ready to kill all the other followers of Jesus as well. The next 12 verses describe his early life as a follower of Jesus: “he began to preach in the synagogues that Jesus is the Son of God.” Eventually he fled Damascus, and then after an unspecified period of time appeared in Jerusalem. There Barnabas spoke up for him and soon he was preaching in Jerusalem, where he met with more opposition. Finally the believers sent him off to Tarsus, and the church enjoyed a time of peace and stability.

Up until this point Luke had told various stories of Peter’s ministry. After Saul’s conversion, Luke returns to the story of Peter. First he healed a man Aeneas, then we have our passage.
Verses 36 and 37 shift the scene to a nearby town named Joppa. A woman there named Tabitha fell sick and died.
In verses 38 and 39 the disciples sent for Peter, and he joined them.
In verses 40 to 43, Peter sent the others out of the room; then he prayed and called on Tabitha to rise. She did so, and he took her out to meet the rest of the people gathered there. The result was that many more people believed in the Lord. The closing verse sets the stage for the events of chapters 11 and 12, by placing Peter in the house of Simon the Tanner.

A basic theme throughout the book of Acts, and highlighted in this passage, is the way that Peter and the apostles continued the ministry and message of Jesus. Note that the raising of Tabitha had the effect of bringing people to faith. That was its primary purpose. As John puts it in John 20: 30 Jesus performed many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. 31 But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

This basic idea is true for us today as well. The idea is not that we will do miracles—we may, or we may not. The idea rather is that we continue the ministry and message of Jesus. As Paul puts it in 2 Corinthians 5: “God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, and has given to us the ministry and message of reconciliation” (my conflation of verses).

Revelation 7: 9-17
A word about the way that I read Revelation. We sometimes read the book as a history of the future, which is (I believe) a mistake. I think that what happens in this book is that John looks at their contemporary situation through a series of lens. Thus chapter 6 portrays their lives as one of hardship and distress, while chapter 7 looks at the same scene and sees something else going on—a scene of redemption and praise. I know that the passage begins with the words, “After this I looked, and there before me …” We can read this as referring to the chronology of events, when he means simply, “Then I saw.” In divine revelation he saw that what was happening around him on earth had a different appearance in Heaven. There is a chronology behind the events portrayed in Revelation. Satan is at work on this earth. God is also at work. The final outcome of this spiritual war is that Satan is defeated and destroyed, and that we live forever with God. Our job is not to figure out the chronology, but to live in light of the divine reality behind the events of our lives.

With this in mind, look again at our verses.
Verses 9 and 10 picture the reality of the church beyond church praising God forever.
In verses 11 and 12, they are joined by angels and all the powers of good in praise to God.
In verse 13 one of the elders asks John if he knows who “these” (those in white robes) are. Then the elder answers his own question: They are those redeemed by “the blood of the Lamb”, praising God forever. God has removed all their distress and given them joy forever.
The description makes it clear that, although we do not construct a history of the future, John is describing the present in terms of the final reality. This is the first idea that I saw as I read the passages several weeks ago: That what we see on the stage of our lives (distress and pain and humiliation) is different from the view behind the scenes (where we discover that the whole scene leads to joy and delight unending). To change the metaphor, we see what is happening with our limited perspectives, where God sees from the perspective of omniscience.

There are other ideas we could pick up—the multicultural nature of God’s people is probably the most important one. This passage brings to fullness the promise made to Abraham, “In you all families off the earth will find their blessing.” The first part of this chapter, noting the perfection of Abraham’s family in God’s eternity echoes that promise.

But this idea of the divine reality behind the scenes of our human realities is the one that I want to work with in the time remaining.

Synthesis
How do the passages from John 10 and Acts 9 fit with this theme of God’s action behind the scenes? In John’s gospel Jesus, who could say of God, “I and my Father are one,” came from the wrong side of the tracks. What “the Jews” saw in front of them on stage was someone they could not respect, but behind the scenes the reality to which he invited them was eternal life with God. In the book of Acts we met Peter, acting in the name and manner of Jesus. The gospel of freedom and life was passed on by marginal people until it took over the whole world of that day.

When we work with the lectionary, we take a common theme and ask how it applies to us today. This morning that common theme is the reality of our lives: We live with pain and hardship and struggles that conceal the reality of joy and power that we receive by God’s grace.

Applications
You might wonder if it is true that we live with pain and hardship and struggle. We are fortunate people, compared to the majority of the world. We have more resources and can control so much more of what happens to us than most people can. Is it fair to say that we live with pain and struggle and hardship?

I think it is. I don’t need to recite the physical struggles that we have dealt with in this congregation. Even if no other hardship comes our way, in the end we die. But as I look around a relatively affluent Canada, I see more than simply the inevitability of death. We could consider the reality of distress and suffering in First Nations communities. Their distress is our distress, if only because we have helped to cause it through our shared history.

But I look at another basic reality around us. At Providence our M Div (and some MA) students do a final integrative essay in their final year. This past week one student presented his essay on the subject of ministry to Korean youth, Korean-Canadians who are neither fully Korean nor fully Canadian. As a youth pastor, he said, he has discovered that these relatively affluent youth struggle with a loss of identity that makes life increasingly difficult.

He noted also the way that young people generally live in a web of constructed identities. Social media gives repeated opportunities to present yourself with any identity you want. As a result, more and more people find it hard to relate to other people face to face. Another member of the integrative class works with Youth for Christ, and he confirmed this struggle with identity.

Their comments remind me of a D Min dissertation by Chris Marchand, which he did for us at Providence some years ago. Chris examined the effect on youth pastors of the situations they encounter in their ministry. Often they respond to so many heart-breaking stories that they suffer from compassion fatigue (what Chris called secondary PTSD).

As a child of the 60s, I remember how some of us used to say, “I need to find myself.” We were describing the same thing. In times of great social change, identity is one of the most difficult things to figure out, and we live in an era of rapid change greater than any previous period in history. An underlying current to life in Canada today, then, is a hidden psychic pain that many people struggle with.

In that context, then, we hear these passages. In his integrative paper, our Korean-Canadian student made a profound observation: The centre of the gospel is found in marginalized people. The centre is at the margins. He continued with a second fundamental and profound truth: Our struggles and hardships find meaning in the sufferings of Jesus. So the way to deal with pain is to embrace it. “I will encounter darkness as a bride, and hug it in mine arms.”

He is absolutely right. When we count on our affluence to help us, we become like the Jews who could not see the Son of God when he stood before them. When we turn to Jesus in our pain, we find that he is there with us, giving our life meaning and hope. When we embrace God in our suffering, we discover the reality behind the scenes, “that great multitude that no one can number, gathered before the throne and before the Lamb.”

It is easy for this kind of statement to become trite and unhelpful. I mentioned the hardships of First Nations history. I could say to First Nations in Canada: “Accept your pain; it is God’s gift to show you himself.” They may reply truthfully, “Who are you kidding!” They might use stronger and less polite language than that. And they would be right.

But it remains true that the way to find the reality behind the scenes is to enter fully into the hardship and pain of our lives. In the situation I just mentioned, I must first learn from our native community what that actually means. I cannot tell them what to do, but I can sit with them and discover what I need to repent of. I can live with them and begin to see the real pain of the Dene people relocated from Duck Lake to Churchill in 1956. In the 1970s they relocated to Tadoule Lake, but cannot simply undo the effects of the relocation. I can say, “Embrace your pain,” but that is simplistic. First I must sit with them and learn what their lives have been. In that learning, we both may find anew the presence of Christ, whose passion and suffering gives meaning to our own distress. (My thanks to another of our students who described this experience in his integrative essay.)

Conclusion

We live in a world of rapid, almost catastrophic change. It is hard to remember who we are when so much shifts and falls around us. These passages remind us to see Jesus, who is God incarnate, and to find our new identity in Jesus the Risen Lord. The vision of the end is also a vision of the present. We also are “they who … have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.” We also “are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his temple.” And God “will lead us to springs of living water and wipe away every tear from our eyes.”

Grace Bible Church
17 April 2016
Texts: John 10: 22-30; Acts 9: 36-43;  Revelation 7: 9-17

Sunday, April 10, 2016

Walking and Leaping

Introduction
I love the book of Acts. The story of how the despairing disciples become empowered apostles is wonderful, an inspiring story about God’s goodness and grace expressed in the lives of ordinary people. At the same time, I am sometimes afraid of the book of Acts. I wonder if I am supposed to do what they did, and if we are supposed to see miracles such as this one in Acts 3. This morning I will set the stage for looking at this passage, go through the text, and suggest what I think it says to us today.

The Book of Acts (skimming chapters 1 to 5)
Acts is Luke’s account, volume two. Volume one is “an orderly account” of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. Volume two is the story of what happened to the disciples he left behind when “he was taken up into heaven”.

Acts 1: Jesus spends 40 days with the disciples after his resurrection. This is an important point. Sometimes we think that Jesus rose, met the disciples, and ascended—all in the space of few days, but Luke (who is the most careful of the Gospel writers with historical details) tells of an extended period of time. It lasted long enough to make it clear that the resurrection appearances were no mass hallucination. They took place in Jerusalem and in Galilee. They included dramatic meetings and ordinary times of eating together. They made it clear that Jesus is alive.

Then Jesus tells the disciples to go to Jerusalem and wait for the Holy Spirit. In Matthew’s gospel they had gone up to Galilee to meet Jesus. Similarly in John’s gospel the events of chapter 20 take place in Jerusalem, and the events of chapter 21 take place by the Sea of Galilee. Now they return to Jerusalem to wait for the promised Spirit, after which, Jesus says, they will be his witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and the whole earth. This verse (1:8) provides the outline for Luke’s description of the Acts of the Apostles. I have heard preachers use it as an outline for our call to witness to Jesus. Jerusalem is your home, and you move out from there. I suppose for us Jerusalem is Winnipeg, Judea is southern Manitoba, Samaria would have to be Saskatchewan, and Toronto may as well be the ends of the earth! But I think that this equation misses an important point. Jerusalem is the city of God, and in this outline it represents not the disciples’ home—Galilee was their home—but rather it represents the place where they met God. Jesus might say to us, “Wait in the emotional and mental and spiritual space where you met me; wait there for my Holy Spirit; and then be my witnesses from there to the ends of the earth.”

In chapter 2 this filling comes, and their witness begins. Chapters 3 to 5 gives the miracle (and its aftermath) in which Peter and John heal the lame man in the gate of the temple, followed by a sermon from Peter, who emerges as the primary spokesman of the first believers. He states the message clearly in a series of sermons: God sent Jesus to give you life. You killed him, but God raised him from the dead. Believe in him and receive forgiveness and life. The Sanhedrin arrests the apostles, and Peter repeats his message. They tell the apostles to keep quiet, but they continue preaching and healing. The High Priest and Sadducees put them in prison, but an angel frees them. The Sanhedrin tells them to stop preaching, but Peter and the apostles reply, “You imprisoned us, but God set us free. We will obey God rather than you!”

Chapter Three
In chapter three we see what happens when God’s Spirit fills the apostles and disciples. In verses 1 to 10, we learn that the apostles continued to pray regularly in the Temple, and on one such occasion Peter and John encountered a man lame from birth. He asked for money. They gave him complete healing of his physical infirmity. He responded by running around, leaping in the air. His actions are the more surprising because he had never learned to walk in the first place. More than one miracle is evident here.

This exciting stuff! Look at the lame man. He expected maybe some money from Peter and John, but he certainly did not expect what happened. Have you ever seen someone receive a physical gift? Mrs. Shumba was a woman we met in Bulawayo in 2003. She had severe cataracts, so that she was functionally blind. We took her to an eye clinic and paid for cataract surgery, since she could not. They removed the cataracts and put patches over her eyes and told her to come back in several days. When she returned, they removed the patches. I will never forget her amazement and delight: “I can see! I can see!” As we drove her back to where we were staying, we heard her talking in the back seat of the car. She was reading the signs in store windows, delighted that she could see again to read them. Her delight gives me a bit of an idea of what this lame man may have felt.

In verses 11 to 26 Peter responds to the astonishment of those who saw this event with a sermon, completely typical of all his first sermons in the book of Acts:
·        God glorified his servant Jesus.
·        You handed Jesus over to be killed, but God raised him from the dead.
·        This man has been healed by the same power that raised Jesus from the dead.
·        Repent and turn to God “that times of refreshing may come from the Lord.”
·        All of this fulfills the prophets and the covenant God made with Abraham.

Peter probably understood these “times of refreshing” to mean that Jesus will return and that the end of all things is near. He probably expected the second coming almost immediately. Although Jesus had told the disciples that they could not know when the kingdom would be restored, they probably thought he would return quickly. We are still waiting, but Peter’s call to repentance remains, and he was certainly right that times of refreshing—new life in Christ—comes only as we repent of our rebellion against God and choose to follow Jesus.

Hearing the Text Today
So what does chapter three say to us this morning? Peter and John healed a lame man. Should we expect miracles of healing in our church here? In chapter two there were other miracles. Should we replicate those also in our church today? Peter preached a simple message of repentance. Should we tell people around us that they also killed Jesus and need to repent? The apostles got into all kinds of trouble with the religious authorities in chapters four and five. Should we also have our leaders put in prison and set free by angels so they can come and preach to us again? I’m not trying to make fun of the text or of us with these questions. These are real questions, and we look for real answers.

Notice that none of these events are given as commands. Luke does not say to us, “Speak in tongues”, or “Heal people”, or “Get arrested”, or anything else. There are various commands throughout the gospels and in the book of Acts, but these are not among them. Jesus commands us to love God and love our neighbour as ourselves (Mark 12: 30-31). Jesus commands us also to love each other with his love (John 13:34). So clear is this command of love that Paul calls it “the law of Christ” (Galatians 5:14 and 6:2).

There are other commands also. Jesus tells us to take up our cross and follow him (Mark 8:34). Jesus also commands us to make disciples of people everywhere (Matthew 28:19), which includes bringing people to faith (baptizing) and nurturing them in the faith (teaching obedience). Jesus also commanded the disciples to wait for the promised Holy Spirit (Acts 1:5), which leads to empowerment for witness (Acts 1:8). Paul echoes this command in Ephesians 5:18, “Don’t get drunk with wine, but be filled with the Spirit.”

I see these commands clearly, but I don’t know of any commands to do miracles or other “signs and wonders.” Promises of such works, yes (John 14:12); commands, no. I have not looked carefully through the whole New Testament, so I welcome conversation with those who may point me towards such commands, but I see these as descriptions of life in the Spirit, not as commands we must do. Jesus commanded the disciples to wait for the Spirit. That is the command we should heed today also. Wait for the fullness of God’s presence to fill you, and then live the life that God calls you to live. The miracles of Jesus in the gospel accounts, and of the apostles in the book of Acts, are descriptions of the kind of life that follows when you and I are filled with the Spirit of God.

I remember an example a speaker at my graduation from AMBS used. Life in the Spirit is like riding a bicycle with a tailwind; life without the Spirit is like riding a bicycle into a headwind. I have done both. Forty years ago I was part of a group of people who rode from Fort Dodge, Kansas to Azusa, California on our bicycles. We aimed at 70 miles a day, but our second day out we hit a steady 40 mile an hour southwest wind, the kind you get in Kansas in the summer. WE rode 35 miles and it wore us out. The next day the wind switched around, and a stiff tailwind blew us all the way into Springer, New Mexico—about 105 miles. We made up all our lost time! Life in the Spirit is like that: We can do amazing things when God is working in us.

“Far Too Easily Pleased”
Most of us here this morning have heard God’s call on our lives and responded. Like the disciples beside the Sea of Galilee, we have heard Jesus say, “Follow me.” We have followed. We have recognized that we are not good enough to be called followers of Jesus, and we have confessed our weakness and our sin. God has forgiven us through Jesus’ sacrifice of himself on the cross. That’s a basic part of what makes the Easter season we are in so wonderful. We are forgiven people, who have the new life of Jesus within us. But once the glow of our initial encounter with Christ wears off, we go back to work. Soon the everyday pressures of life combine with old habits to reduce the impact of our Christian walk. We are saved, but that is about all that we are. Jesus told the first disciples to wait for the promised Holy Spirit, to spend time in the place where they met the risen Christ until the Spirit of Christ filled them. I think that God is telling you and me the same thing: Wait for God’s Spirit to fill you—expect more of God than a one-time encounter.

Now, you have to be careful with this idea. Some people are professional “wait”-ers. They seek God so much that they never live for God, so that waiting for God takes the place of living for God. With this caution in place I repeat: Wait for God’s Spirit to fill you; expect more of God in your life. God rewards such expectant waiting and then we enter the kind of life described in Acts 3. Then we can act in situations in ways that meet people’s real and deepest needs. Then we can speak directly into the lives of our friends and acquaintances in ways that genuinely help them. Then we become witnesses of Jesus to everyone we meet.

I don’t think that the point of this story is the miracle. Confronting the authorities—as happens later in the chapter—is not the point. Experiencing the fullness of God’s presence in our lives is the point. That is what God wants. That is what God promises.

We may experience miracles even today, but we don’t need to look for them. We look rather for the fullness of God’s presence in our lives. God gives us himself to encourage and strengthen us. I remember the presence of God’s Spirit in 1990. In September we were in Zimbabwe, trying to decide when to come home. We got a call from Lois’ parents, who told us that Dad had cancer, and was given perhaps six months to live. We came home in December, and he died seven months after that phone call on March 30, 1977. The encouragement came when we told my younger sister that Lois’ Dad was dying. She said, “You know, I woke up one night,”—we realized it was just when we got the news about Lois’ Dad—“and I knew you were trouble. So I have been praying for you. Now I know why.”

This kind of experience is encouraging, but in fact all such things are part of the fuller life that God promises to those who wait expectantly for the fullness of his presence. How do we “wait expectantly”? Since relationship with God is relationship with a person, I can’t give you a formula. Prayer and Bible reading (alone and with others) are important. I find silence before God especially helpful. We live with an attitude towards God that says, “Show me yourself” in everything we do.

The trouble is that we are sometimes satisfied with a sort of spiritual fire insurance—we think, “I’m going to heaven and not going to Hell. Good!” Yes, it is good; but God has much more for you and me than just a spiritual fire insurance. C.S. Lewis put it this way.
It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.

Indeed, we are far too easily pleased. We settle for a bit of life, and God wants us to receive the fullness of life in Christ. Like the man lame from birth, we settle for asking for a bit of money to get by, and God offers us something much more, which leads to the extravagant spectacle of this man walking and jumping and shouting, “Hallelujah!” I invite you to wait expectantly for God’s fullness, and when God gives it to you, please, seize it and experience God’s life to the full!

Steinbach Mennonite Church, 10 April 2016
Text: Acts 3

Sunday, April 03, 2016

Who Are These Who Are Believers Now?

Introduction
This morning I will look briefly at the texts from John and Revelation, and then reflect more fully on Acts 1 to 5, using the text from Acts as a window. I am asking these texts a question that arises naturally from Luke’s account in Acts: “Who are these people that we call followers of Jesus?” The answers to this question give us insight into who we are as God’s people today.

Today is the Second Sunday in Easter in the church year. The resurrection was one of those events that you cannot comprehend in a day, or in a brief weekend. Those who have lost a loved one, or gotten married, or had a baby, know that life is never the same afterwards. The Resurrection is that kind of life-changing event. The day after the resurrection of Jesus, the disciples did not say something like: “Well, that was quite an experience! Back to work!” They had to find out what life meant now. They had to learn to live in a new normal. These passages help us discover what the new normal is after our lives have been completely changed.

John 20: 19-31
We begin with John. Verse 19 lets us know that this passage takes place still in Resurrection Day. That evening the disciples were back together wherever they were staying. We don’t know exactly who was there. We know that Thomas was not there. We don’t know if they had heard from Mary and the other women, or from Peter and John. We do know that they were not yet convinced that Jesus was alive. Rather they lived in fear for their own lives. Then Jesus appeared, removing their doubt and filling them with joy.

In verse 21 Jesus gives them their commission: He sends them into the world as his followers and representatives. Then in verse 22 Jesus breathes the Holy Spirit into them. I would not try to harmonize John and Luke here, to systematize the way that followers of Jesus receive the Spirit. To make any pattern normative goes beyond the text. Verses 24 to 29 give the interaction with Thomas, who needs stronger proofs than a vision in order to believe. Verses 30 and 31 then give the purpose of these stories and of the whole gospel account: “These are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.”

Revelation 1: 4-8
The book of Revelation is a letter from John to some churches in modern Turkey. John calls these believers a priestly kingdom (verse 6), echoing the language of God’s words about Israel in Exodus 19. They were—and are—God’s people, his representatives on earth who serve as priests mediating God’s presence to the world and interceding with God for the world. Here we could preach a sermon on mission, but we leave it for another time. Today we note simply this identity, “kings and priests to God”, which is the destiny of the first group of disciples whom we met in John 20. So to the book of Acts.

Acts 5: 27-32
First we set the stage of Luke’s larger work here.
Acts 1: Jesus spends 40 days with the disciples after his resurrection. This is an important point. Sometimes we think that Jesus rose, met the disciples, and ascended—all in the space of few days, but Luke (who is the most careful of the Gospel writers with historical details) tells of an extended period of time. This was an extended and significant period of time. It lasted long enough to make it clear that the resurrection appearances were no mass hallucination. They took place in Jerusalem and in Galilee. They included dramatic meeting and ordinary times of eating together. They made it clear that Jesus is alive. We say not only, “Jesus has risen”, but also “Jesus is risen!” Like saying “Jesus is a Jew”, or “Jesus is God’s Son”: Subject—verb—complement. Risen-ness is the quality that describes Jesus. He is the Risen One, who calls us also to walk in the resurrection.

Then Jesus tells the disciples to go to Jerusalem and wait for the Holy Spirit. In Matthew’s gospel they had gone up to Galilee to meet Jesus. Now they return to Jerusalem to wait for the promised Spirit, after which, Jesus says, they will be his witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and the whole earth. This verse (1:8) provides the outline for Luke’s description of the Acts of the Apostles. I have heard preachers use it as an outline for our call to witness to Jesus. Jerusalem is your home, and you move out from there. I suppose for us Jerusalem is Winnipeg, Judea is southern Manitoba, Samaria would have to be Saskatchewan, and Toronto may as well be the ends of the earth! But I think that this equation misses an important point.

Jerusalem is the city of God, and in this outline it represents not the disciples’ home—Galilee was their home, but rather the place where they met God. Jesus might say to us, “Wait in the space where you meet me; wait there for my Holy Spirit; and then be my witnesses from there to the ends of the earth.”

In chapter 2 this filling comes, and their witness begins. Chapter 3 to 5 gives the miracle (and its aftermath) in which Peter and John heal the lame man in the gate of the temple, followed by a sermon from Peter, who emerges as the primary spokesman of the first believers. He states the message clearly: God sent Jesus to give you life. You killed him, but God raised him from the dead. Believe in him and receive forgiveness and life. The Sanhedrin arrests the apostles, and Peter repeats his message. They tell the apostles to keep quiet, but they continue preaching and healing. The High Priest and Sadducees then arrest them and put them in prison, but an angel frees them.

The Sanhedrin then questions them in the passage we read. In verses 27 and 28 they say, “Stop this! You are shaming us!” In verse 29 Peter and the apostles say, “You imprisoned us, but God set us free. We will obey God rather than you!” Again they repeat their basic message: You killed Jesus, but God raised Jesus and has exalted him to bring us repentance and forgiveness. Then verse 32: We are God’s witnesses through God’s Spirit.

My Question
I asked at the beginning: Who are these people? The Gospels raise the question about Jesus: Who is this man? The Book of Acts raises the question about the apostles: Who are these people? John tells us that they are Christ’s messengers (like Paul’s image of Christ’s ambassadors). Revelations tells us that they are the chosen people, God’s priestly kingdom. Acts connects their beginning identity with their ultimate identity: They are filled with God’s Spirit to be God’s witnesses in the world.

A Polish Easter carol (in the Mennonite Hymns for Worship, #270) says it like this: “Who are these who are believes now? These are they who have been shouting ‘Hallelujah!’ They have seen the Saviour and have been filled with splendour. Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” That is indeed who they are. It is also who we are.

We celebrated the Resurrection last Sunday. This is not simply a day in the church’s calendar, so that life continues afterwards as though nothing had happened. Resurrection Sunday changes everything: “We have seen the Saviour, and have been filled with splendour. Hallelujah!” I add this: If you have not met the Saviour, if you do not know God, if you have not discovered God’s presence in a way that changes everything, I invite you to do so.

Two Examples
You may recall an event several months ago in Kenya. Last December a militant group of gunmen stopped a bus travelling in northern Kenya. They started to separate the Muslims from the Christians in order to execute the Christians, when the Muslim passengers took action. One man stood up and said that they were all brothers and would not separate. The Muslim women on the bus started to give their hijabs to the Christian women so that the armed men could not tell them apart. The gunmen shot Salah and two other men and then they fled. Salah later died of his wounds.

This is a wonderful story of Muslims and Christians pursuing peace together in the midst of conflict, but there is more to the story. The day before this man had a difficult series of conversations with relatives and neighbours in his home village. He declared to them his intention to follow Jesus as Lord and Saviour. In a written testimony he stated his willingness to die for Jesus. He is one who had seen the Saviour and was filled with splendour. In his case, this encounter led to his death, following the way of peace.

Encounters with Jesus are all around us. I think of a friend of mine, awkward in the extreme, but shining with goodness. When a friend of his said that he could not believe in God, because life is too difficult, my friend—whose life has been much harder than mine—said something like, “God loves me, and I love God.” His friend was quiet for a moment and then said, “I’ll have to think about that.” My friend has seen the Saviour and has been filled with his splendour.

Conclusion
We live in a world that causes us to give up hope. Into the darkness of political machinations and the corruption of business dealings comes the risen Jesus. Into the bluster and bombast and barrage of hate and fear that surround comes the risen Jesus. Jesus invites you and me to wait in his presence.


I can’t say what this process looks like. We try to turn it into a system, to make certain that God will answer our call, but we cannot control the process. We open ourselves to Christ, and we wait. Perhaps in the communion service that follows this sermon, perhaps as the choir is singing, perhaps as you are walking home, God appears. I invite you to spend time daily with God, to read your Bible, to pray and sing—alone and with others. Invite the Risen Christ to live in you, individually and corporately. We are they who have seen the Saviour and have been filled with splendour. Hallelujah!

Grace Bible Church
3 April 2016
Texts: John 20; Revelation 1; Acts 5

Tuesday, March 29, 2016

An Easter to Remember

This was an unusual Easter Day. I went to our community sunrise service on Sunday morning as usual, but the events of the last hymn gave depth to the day. We were singing “Low in the Grave he Lay”, when I noticed activity in the pew across the aisle, about three people away from me. Some people were trying to rouse a man who had remained seated as we all stood to sing. As we reached the second verse, “Death cannot keep his prey …”, they laid him on the pew and one of them began CPR. I learned later that she was someone we know from supper club at our church, who works as an emergency nurse. Most people could not see what was happening, and we finished the hymn well: “He arose! Christ arose!” But it looked to me as though the man across the aisle had just died with those words in his ears.

As we left, ambulance personnel began to provide care for him. I learned later that he did revive, after a probable heart attack. He is an elderly man (perhaps in his mid-80s), with a history of heart trouble, but the experience gave depth and added meaning to the words we sang. As I walked home I remembered that it was 25 years ago on Easter Sunday that Dad Heise died. Mother woke Lois and me up at about 4:30 with Uncle Jesse on the phone. We spent the day (which we had planned to spend with my parents before driving back to Kentucky) driving to Ohio, and then the family time and funeral. Easter is a special amazing time of the year, in which the old words ring out full of meaning and hope and joy, “Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!”

Thursday, March 24, 2016

The Gift of Indirection (White Zimbabwean, Part 3)

In recent blogs I told the story of becoming Khulu (Uncle) for a young man meeting his prospective parents-in-law in a Zimbabwean family now living in Manitoba.  I told also of the way that Lois became the Aunt who performed a similar task for another family, in which a Zimbabwean got engaged to a Manitoba Mennonite young man.

Here I reflect on the experiences a bit, along the lines of treating our experiences as participant-observation in Zimbabwean culture. So, some lessons learned:
1. Knowing about something is not the same as doing it. The only way to really learn something is to do it. Africans in Zimbabwe and elsewhere have known this all along. David Maranz (in African Friends and Money Matters) observes that Africans give information when it is needed, not as an abstract piece of information separate from real life. Canadians (and Americans) sometimes treat knowledge as something detached from life. I think Zimbabweans get this one right.

2. Canadians (and Americans) value direct speech. “Look at me when you talk to me.” “Tell me what you want. Don’t beat about the bush.” Africans are often less direct, not stating what they are saying directly, but hinting at it; not looking up at the other person as if challenging them, but down or sideways out of respect for the other’s authority.

There are strengths to both systems of communication. One strength of indirection is to force both parties to pay attention to the clues that go with the conversation. Another strength is that the intermediaries in the conversation—such as those who carried the question from the young couple to the parents, and then carried the answer back—are also witnesses to the conversation. As our friends told us, if this couple has trouble later, these witnesses are there to help. This is a real strength.

Another strength indirection is to defuse the stress of confrontation. David Augsburger (Culture and Conflict Mediation) has written well about the value of a mediator to relieve excessive stress. Zimbabweans also know about this benefit.

3. The willingness to submit to cultural values counts for more than knowing how to do everything just right. In the case where I acted as the Khulu (or Uncle), the young man’s willingness to sit quietly while someone else pleaded his case spoke loudly to the family. They saw that he was willing to do what is right as much by his silence as by anything else.


I’m sure that there are many more lessons I could state, but that’s enough for now. The ceremony of indirection is a gift my Zimbabwean friends have given me. Not one I would have expected, and not one I’m sure I know how to use, but a gift of great value.

Monday, March 21, 2016

Finding God in History

Introduction
Palm Sunday. The day we remember what we call “the triumphal entry”. We have enjoyed the parade of children this morning, and we sing and rejoice, joining in the ancient triumph of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. “Ride on, King Jesus! No one can hinder thee!” Palm Sunday begins what we call “Holy Week”, which culminates in Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. This is the centre of the church’s year, when we remember and re-enter the mystery of God’s work in God’s Son to redeem the world and reconcile the world to himself.

The Passage
This year we read the account from Mark 11. I will describe the passage briefly and then expand on one basic point that impressed me as I read the story again this year. In the first verses we find Jesus and his disciples at Bethany (and Bethphage). Bethany is a little less than two miles east of Jerusalem, and Jesus stayed there quite regularly with Mary and Martha and Lazarus. He sent two of the disciples on ahead of the rest to find a donkey, which Jesus told them they would use for his entry into Jerusalem.

The disciples found the donkey and brought it back, and they all went into Jerusalem together, with Jesus riding on the back of the donkey. Soon a crowd had gathered around Jesus. I am guessing that they recognized Jesus as a teacher and miracle-worker, and put his actions and words together with the action of riding into Jerusalem on a donkey’s back.

Why a donkey? What did the people see? They would have remembered the words of Zechariah 9:9 and 10: “Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. I will take away the chariots from Ephraim and the warhorses from Jerusalem, and the battle bow will be broken. He will proclaim peace to the nations. His rule will extend from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth.” Perhaps they would have also thought of the prophecy contained in Jacob-Israel’s blessings for his sons in Genesis 49: 9 and 10, which serve as deeper background to Zechariah.

Zechariah’s prophecy is a Messianic passage, and the people could hear the promise of the restoration of God’s reign in full. They may have thought that Jesus was a country prophet, come to fulfill a vow at the Passover Feast and remind people of the Messiah (so argues William Lane in his commentary on Mark). In any case they joined in the fun, although they did not grasp the depth of what God was doing in front of them.

The use of a donkey indicates that God has won the victory, and that God’s Messiah now comes in peace—not on a warhorse, but on a humble donkey. So the people cheer for God’s victory and for a future of peace and prosperity. Then the passage ends with a strange sort of anticlimax: “Jesus entered Jerusalem and went into the temple courts. He looked around at everything, but since it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the Twelve.” Mark is the only one who records this interlude, as the big parade turns into a small sightseeing excursion.

There are at least two reasons for this anticlimax. The first is that it happened. When Jesus and the disciples had completed the entry, they took the donkey back to its owner and spent the night in Bethany. Mark probably collected much of his account from Peter, who told the story many times within the early church community. Mark also was probably there, and remembers what happened. After looking around for a bit, everyone went back to Bethany for the night.

The second reason is the one I want to focus on for the rest of our time. Throughout his account of “the Gospel of Jesus Christ”, Mark emphasises the way that Jesus moved from climax of healing or exorcism to anticlimax of “Don’t tell anyone”. Here again Jesus steps back before he moves to the climax of his whole ministry. Quietly now!

The Power of Smallness
This quietness leads me to look again at the triumphal entry. Imagine with me that one of the people watching this is a reporter for The Jerusalem Times. This reporter is normally assigned to cover events in the capital of the Empire, in Rome itself. Just a week before he came home for the Feast of the Passover he covered a real Triumph. Here is a description of a Roman Triumph, from Wikipedia:
On the day of his triumph, the general wore a crown of laurel and the all-purple, gold-embroidered triumphal toga …, regalia that identified him as near-divine or near-kingly. He rode in a four-horse chariot through the streets of Rome in unarmed procession with his army, captives and the spoils of his war. … [Over time] increasing competition among the military-political adventurers … ensured that triumphs became more frequent, drawn out and extravagant, prolonged in some cases by several days of public games and entertainments.

Now he watches this Palestinian peasant riding on a donkey into Jerusalem. He can’t help thinking to himself that people would not cheer so loudly if they could have seen what he has seen in Rome. The donkey, on the other hand is a strange and humble animal—not nearly so proud as a war horse. Yet the donkey carried the King of Kings into Jerusalem. G.K. Chesterton wrote a poem called “The Donkey”:
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood,
Then surely I was born;

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.

This idea (of finding God’s power in small things) is a repeated note in the Bible. It is the way that God works. As the Lord said to Samuel: “The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7) We look at power and prestige and think that these God at work. But God is at work where God chooses to work. Listen to the way that Paul says it in 1 Corinthians 1:22-29:
22 Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, 23 but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, 24 but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.25 For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. 26 Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. 27 But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. 28 God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, 29 so that no one may boast before him.

God is at work in history, but not where we often look. God is at work in in the small places of our world, in your life and in my life, among and in ordinary people, to bring the Reign of God into the whole world. God uses you and me, just as God used the donkey and the crowds and the children, to make our world right.

Some Examples
Allow me to illustrate with some examples I have learned about in the past two weeks. A week and a half ago I had lunch with a man we’ll call John. He and his wife worked in Pakistan for many years with a Baptist Mission. Now they are based in Winnipeg, working with indigenous churches in Pakistan and Nepal. They travel back to Pakistan periodically and to Nepal more frequently.

John told me about a group of Christians he works with in Pakistan. They come from a Pakistani Hindu background. As John told me, the Hindu minority in Pakistan is small, about 1% of the population of the country, and they are at the bottom of the social pile—practically speaking most of them are slaves. Over a period of time a small group of Christians grew up in this Hindu minority, about 35 house churches by the time he left the country two years ago. This year he went back to Pakistan and provided some Bible training for their leadership. He found that they had grown from 35 to 100 house churches.

Now this is not the kind of movement that people look at and say, “Wow! Two million new believers!” Rather it means perhaps a thousand new followers of Jesus from the Hindu minority of Pakistan.  This is not the sort of thing that will make the international news, nor will many people be impressed by it; but this is God at work in our history. This is God at work in the small ordinary places of our world.

Sometimes these small things result in events that do get reported in the news. You may recall an event several months ago in Kenya. Last December a militant Somali group named Al Shabab stopped a bus travelling in northern Kenya near the Somali border. They started to separate the Muslims from the Christians in order to execute the Christians, when the Muslim passengers took action. One man, named Salah Ferah, stood up and told them that they were all brothers and would not separate. The Muslim women on the bus started to give their hijabs to the Christian women so that the armed men could not tell them apart. The gunmen shot Salah and two other men and then they fled. Salah later died of his wounds. This is a wonderful story of Muslims and Christians pursuing peace together in the midst of conflict. There is more to the story than I will tell here, but you can sense the echoes of God entering Jerusalem on a donkey’s back, bringing peace to the world.

God is at work in our world in ways that you would never guess. If you are focussing on the big events in the news, you could be like that reporter in Jerusalem who thought the important Triumph was in Rome, and missed the entry of God’s own self into human history.

A teacher at Providence was telling me about a student in her class—we’ll call him Sam. When you watch Sam, you notice his awkwardness and loudness, but his teacher told me he is really a good person. I was walking to the Student Centre this past week and passed Sam. He greeted me awkwardly as we passed each other and I saw two things: I saw the socially awkward young man, and I saw goodness shining in him. I said that to his teacher, and she told me of a conversation Sam once had. A fellow worker at his job was talking about the hardships he has experienced, which made it hard for him to believe in God. Sam has had a harder life than most, greater than the person talking to him could know, but he responded simply that God loves him and he loves God. His friend was silent for a bit, and then he said, “I’ll have to think about that.” In that conversation you can see, if you are looking for it, God at work in history. There was a little triumphal entry, with voices calling, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

Conclusion
This is the beginning of Holy Week. We remember this great climax of Jesus’ life and ministry, as he dies on the cross for you and for me. Often we think that we are not important enough to join in the parade, but that’s just the point. Jesus wants to enter your life and my life in triumph.

It doesn’t matter if you’re young. As Randy reminded us last Sunday, God wants young people to do his work in the church and in the world. We need you. God needs you! It doesn’t matter if you’re middle-aged. You may be focussed on career as you enter the time you can become a real success. But real success is found in following Christ, in allowing Jesus to enter your life in triumph. It doesn’t matter if you’re getting older. I’m reading a lot about the beginning of Brethren in Christ Missions. The first missionary group went from North America to Zimbabwe in 1898—one young woman in her early 20s (Adda Engle), one almost middle-aged woman in her mid 30s (Frances Davidson), and one older couple of 60 years old (Jesse and Elizabeth Engle). God used all four of them. Adda eventually married another of the early missionaries, who died in the 1920s following an attack by a lion. Frances worked there until she was in her 60s, when she returned to the States. Jesse died after only two years, and Elizabeth returned to the States. Each one of them was part of God’s work beginning the BIC Church in Zimbabwe.


The only thing that matters is that Jesus wants to enter into every one of us and work in our world through us—old or young, married or single, parent or child, blue collar or white collar, awkward or graceful or anything else. We find God in history when we find God in each other. I pray that you are part of his triumphal entry into our lives this morning.

Steinbach Mennonite Church
20 March 2016
Palm Sunday: Mark 11:1-11

Saturday, March 12, 2016

Being a White Zimbabwean 2

As the last story told, Lois and I had the privilege of becoming part of a Zimbabwean family living here in Manitoba, helping with the process of bringing together the Moyo and Penner families (names changed). More recently I became part of another Zimbabwean family.

It was Saturday morning when the call came: friends of ours, a Zimbabwean couple named John and Mary (again, no real names used). John asked me for a favour. Their daughter, living in another province wanted to bring her boyfriend (also a Zimbabwean) home. But there was a complication—under the circumstances he should not just arrive at the house and ask to marry her. That might work for Canada, but not for Zimbabwe. The favour then was this: Would I go to the airport with his daughter (we’ll use the name Noma again—it’s a good Zimbabwean name) to pick up the boyfriend (we’ll call him Musa, another good Zimbabwean name) and bring him to meet Noma’s parents. John told me, “Noma will explain to you what you need to do.” I agreed, and entered on a valuable experience.

On the way in we engaged in small talk. Then we picked up Musa and started driving back. At first we talked generally, getting to know each other, but soon we got down to business. I was to act as Musa’s friend who would open the way for the young man to meet his girlfriend’s parents. Noma herself would disappear as soon as we arrived at the house (and disappear she did!). We would go in and greet those assembled, and then sit down on the floor. I would make a payment to open the conversation, and then a statement saying why we were there, and then a further payment for bringing the daughter home in such a way. (Musa brought the money that we used. The amount he brought is irrelevant and not mentioned here.)

That is more or less what happened. We knocked at the door and were admitted. John was sitting in the living room with some neighbour friends he had asked to come and serve as witnesses. Mary was working in the kitchen preparing supper. We greeted all the people assembled, then Musa and I sat on the floor in front of John.

I handed John the first payment to open the conversation, and he called Mary from the kitchen to stop her work and join us in the living room. Everyone gathered (except Noma, who had disappeared into her room), and I proceeded. I said something like this, based on our conversation in the car, “I am bringing you this young man. His name is Musa from [name of town]. He is coming to acknowledge his responsibility for your daughter and to apologize for bringing her to you in this way. You do not need to go looking for her, because he has brought her here.” Then I placed a further payment in a bowl that John had set on the table.

John is a friendly person who is normally a delight to be with, but that evening he was the father whose daughter had been brought home expecting a child. His face was stern—I think. My eyes were downcast as I did my best to ignore my mother’s voice in my head saying, “Look at me when you talk to me!” He counted the money slowly and carefully, an amount that had been worked out between the parties before the actual event. Then he handed it to his wife and asked a further question.

“Does he have anything else to say?” I remember my lines: “He says they would like to return in two a half months to talk more with you.” John made sure of the date, since, as he explained, they had to gather the family together for that meeting. Musa confirmed to me that the date was firm, and I repeated that to John.

Another question remained. “What is his clan?” Fortunately I had asked that question on the way from the airport. “Ncube”, I said. John looked grave. “We are also Ncube.” Is he Ncube from Murewa or from Kameni or from somewhere else?” (I may not have the clan names right, but that is what I remember.) I decided I thought he was from Murewa. John was pleased, “We are from Kameni, so that is all right.”

Then he was his cheerful self again. The young people were sent to the basement to enjoy each other’s company, and the neighbours joined us in another wonderful meal. I can tell you that Zimbabwean cooking is excellent!

So now I have been the friend who goes between to begin a relationship leading to marriage. A privilege beyond asking. As we were getting ready to leave, Musa came over and thanked me and then asked if I would be one of his party for the next round of negotiations referred to above (he would like me to come back in two and half months). Those of his family in Canada will come, but the extended family is in Zimbabwe. So I may learn something more about setting the dowry.


You can read about many things in books, but you learn more when people are gracious and include you in their lives. So thanks to our Zimbabwean friends who have included us in their lives. Lois and I say (in Shona and Ndebele), “Tinotenda. Siyabonga kakhulu.”

Friday, March 11, 2016

Being a White Zimbabwean 1

Over the past couple of years Lois and I have experienced the joy of our connections to Zimbabwe in ways that we never experienced. Here are two stories, with names changed since they are other people’s stories too. The first story is in this blog, and the second follows.

A couple of years ago we were approached by a friend (let’s call her Nomathemba), the daughter of a Zimbabwean couple (we’ll call them Simba and Dorcas—not their real names) who live here in Manitoba. She wanted to get engaged to her Mennonite boyfriend (think the usual names here, like Penner, Plett, Giesbrecht, and so on, and you’ll have the idea). They wanted to honour her culture as a Zimbabwean in the process, so they came over for supper and we had a talk about what to do.

Noma’s extended family is back in Zimbabwe, so they asked Lois if she would be Simba’s sister, and if Lois and I would approach her parents to introduce her boyfriend and ask if they may become engaged. We agreed, and then we found that means we had to bless their desire to marry first, so plied friend Penner (not his real name either) with questions about his background and their relationship. We were happy to give them our blessing.

So we called Simba and asked if we could come over for supper and bring the young couple with us. (I’m not used to inviting myself for a meal, but it worked well.) A few nights later we sat in Simba and Dorcas’ living room, talking with them and the young couple, who had shown up earlier than they were supposed to. Penner just wasn’t used to waiting until told he could come in now! A delightful meal followed. (I should invite myself over more often!)

Then the moment came. Penner and Noma asked us if we could ask their parents if they could get married. Everyone in the room could hear the question. So we called Noma’s young brother, Simbarashe over, and asked him to ask his parents if his sister and Penner could get married. He crossed the two yards between us and them and asked them the question they had now heard twice already. Simba and Dorcas huddled together speaking in Shona, then told young Simbarashe the answer, which the couple could hear plainly. He stepped back to us and gave us the answer, which all again could hear. Finally we turned to Penner and Noma and gave them the good news that her parents had agreed.

After the drama was over, and we had all played our parts, Simba and Dorcas started reminiscing about the process when they had first gone to her family. We found out how much dowry (1) he had paid for her, and ways in which they had negotiated behind the scenes before anything was done in public. We learned also that usually there would have been all the members of the family present, and the question would have gone from youngest to oldest through a chain of all the father’s brothers. Then Simba added, “All of these people are witnesses of the commitment the couple has made. If they have trouble later, these are the people they turn to for help.” I was impressed with the sense that marriage is a real exercise in community.

Simba also told us that the first thing he did when he learned of their interest was check ancestry.com to make sure that the Penners and the Moyos are not related. We laughed—Russian Mennonites and the Shona people of Zimbabwe come from two different worlds, but behind the laughter lies the awareness that the totem, the clan is important. If one marries inside the clan, there are further steps one must take to make everything right.


So we are White Americans, who have become White Canadians, and now thanks to our Zimbabwean friends we are also White Zimbabweans. Tatenda, Shamwari Simba.

(1) Dowry or Lobola (Ndebele) or Roora (Shona). Not a part of our Canadian customs, but very much part of Zimbabwe.