Blog

By Marco Güete, Leadership Minister

On a trip this year to walk the Camino de Santiago, a network of ancient pilgrimage routes in Spain, someone said to my wife, Sandra, and me: “Be prepared, you are going to a town that is an oven with hellish heat.” We were worried about the heat that awaited us. After six hours and 23 km walking on almost flat terrain, we arrived at Hornillos del Camino, a city in the north of Spain.

To our surprise, the weather was not hot; rather, it was a bit cold. It was the month of May. We slept in Hornillos one night. When people have not been to a place, they imagine things. In this case, because of the name Hornillos (meaning kilns), the person thought the city would be as hot as an oven. The reality is that the name of the city came from the many pottery kilns in the ninth century. Today those kilns do not exist.

As we continued our walk, my wife and I thought we would reach a town below sea level. But it was not like that. The town was in a valley on the side of a mountain. We discovered that we had to go up and then down the mountain to follow a path to the next town, Castrojeriz, which was 19 km away. We climbed and climbed at a slow pace to conserve our energy. The summit seemed unattainable, but finally after a long time, we reached the top of the mountain.

The landscape in front of us was otherworldly, almost divine, maddeningly beautiful. There are no words to describe it. My wife could not contain herself. Very excitedly she began to praise God out loud, sang hymns of worship, and danced as we went back down the mountain. Some walkers were motivated by her joy. To see the splendor of God’s creation, we had to suffer going up the mountain, burn energy, sweat, and overcome any discouragement.

The church is similar to an unknown place to which we plan a trip. Before going, we imagine and dream, but when we arrive at the place, we find things differently.
The conferences and institutions of the Mennonite Church are like this. They are not what they were in the past, nor will they be in the future what they are today. God is constantly doing new things by transforming and renewing the old. God also transforms his church, and his church is us. What we imagine about the church disappears when we discover new things and implement changes. And sometimes, like my wife, we cannot contain ourselves when we see what God has done.

Marco Güete

Marco Güete is the Leadership Minister for Florida for Mosaic Conference.

Our family recently hosted friends from Indonesia. They arrived with a lot of oleh-oleh (gifts) for us, as is customary in Indonesian culture. But their most precious gift to use was their presence. Zoom and social media can’t replace an the in-person experience. We are grateful that even though we live 10,000 miles apart, we haven’t lost our relationship and connection.

Our family came to the US in 2016. You could say we are still “fresh off the boat” (meaning, not yet assimilated.)  This phrase could be derogatory, but I don’t mind it. As immigrants, we do bring something fresh. There is much that others can learn from us without traveling across the world.   

Living in a new country means we need to comply with certain standards. It is necessary to do some things differently than we did back home. Failure to change could cause harm. For example, some immigrants need to learn to drive on the opposite side of the road.   

But the host culture should make some adjustments, too. I’m grateful that two states, California and Colorado, have changed their laws to replace the word “alien” with “noncitizen” or “immigrant.” To me, “alien” feels negative. For example, if you google “alien,” a picture of an ugly monster from outer space appears.

When we make adjustments for each other, we reject the culture of fear that has become common today. We adopt a culture of love: “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18).  

We need to learn from other cultures, not only by tasting their food, but also by learning their ways, like trying their approaches to solving problems or handling tensions.

I am grateful for an initiative from the Indonesian churches in Mosaic Conference to host a worship service in South Philadelphia this summer.  “We can’t all go to the Mennonite World Conference in Indonesia this summer, but we can take a short trip and worship together while learning and sharing experiences and a busy life,” said Pastor Sonya Kurtz of Zion Mennonite Church in Souderton, PA.  I’m grateful to be one of the hosts of that worship service.  

Immigrant life can be lonely. We desperately need genuine connections and relationships.  And we need to be countercultural, because a culture of fear benefits from a segregated way of life. “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God — what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Romans 12:2). Let us unite and let the spirit of God work in our communion. 

There is a quote that says, “To be successful, you have to burn your boats [or bridges].” The intent is to discourage going back or looking back. But, in the intercultural context, burning our boats or bridges is unnecessary, even wrong. We need those boats or bridges to connect two worlds — the past and the present, the old and the new.  

Each of us needs to seek our identity in Christ in our time and place. Yet, we know we were created in God’s image from the beginning. No matter how far we may have come, literally or figuratively, we carry a sacred connection within us that can’t be broken.   

There is an Indonesian saying: “Don’t become like nuts that forget their shells.” In other words: Don’t forget your roots. Remember where you came from. Don’t be ashamed of your identity. Embrace it, and be transformed with others along the way. 

SCRAPE … CRACK… SCREECH. My stomach flipped. What just happened?

A day earlier, my husband Jon warned me that our automatic garage door wasn’t working quite right, and he would fix it over the weekend.

“Just double check that the door goes up all the way before you pull out, ok?” Jon said.

“Sure. No problem,” I said. Then I promptly forgot.

I went through my morning routine, pressed the garage door button and heard the door going up. I put my car into reverse and…. Yikes.

My car badly damaged the bottom of the garage door. I dreaded the eventual conversation with Jon, but I needed to take responsibility and help to make it right. A little repentance was called for.

A few years ago, on a windy day, I came home to find my garage door opener not working. Annoying, but no big deal. I parked in our driveway and went inside the house.

Inside, a few appliances were blinking as if the power had gone off and on and the house had a strong, burnt odor. Some light switches worked while others didn’t. One electrical outlet had burn marks just above it on the wall. I was puzzled.

I checked the power line that leads to our house from the road. A huge branch had landed on that line and pulled it away from the side of our house. It was still attached and live, but severely damaged.

The fallen power line had sent an electrical surge through our house, completely damaging many appliances. We were frustrated, but thankful that our house didn’t catch fire in the surge.

The difference between these situations? There was no blame or fault to be found in the second. There was plenty of disappointment, discouragement, and some sadness. Yet there was nothing that could have or should have been done differently to prevent it.

I was certainly at fault in the first story, and it was important to acknowledge that and learn from my mistake so that it wouldn’t happen again.

As Christians, we need to practice this type of discernment more broadly. There is a difference between situations that call for lament and those that call for repentance.

If we repent when we should lament, we take on responsibility that isn’t ours to bear. We are not in charge of the wind, cancer, or earthquakes. We are not responsible for the actions of others when they choose ways that cause suffering. These are situations that call for lament. We sit with the sadness, disappointment, frustration, and anger. We lay it out before God and pray for the Spirit to be present amid suffering.

There are situations, however, when lament is not appropriate. There are times when we bear responsibility for what has gone wrong. We acted wrongly or failed to act when we should have. I am responsible for my words, actions, and reactions. If I throw up my hands and lament my own poor judgment or sin, without taking responsibility, I am not being honest, nor am I seeing clearly.

I am also missing an opportunity for God’s grace to transform me. Grace is for those who fall short, who have more learning and growing to do. If I deny my need to repent, I deny my need for grace. If I don’t receive grace, how will I be transformed?

As a pastor and Mosaic member, I have noticed a variety of responses to difficult situations. I feel a call to practice clearer discernment in the midst of difficulty. May we all grow in our discernment between the times that call for lamentation and those that call for repentance… as individuals, as churches, and as larger institutions. As we practice this kind of discernment, may God bring us hope as we lament and transformation as we repent.