Mosaic Mennonites

Missional - Intercultural - Formational

Hendy Matahelemual

A Canaan or an Egypt?

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Editor’s note: This article originally appeared in Anabaptist World and is used with permission by the author.

Someone asked me: How do you explain intercultural work to people who see immigrants as a threat and are afraid their jobs and resources are being taken from them?

I answer with questions. Who owns the resources in the first place? Aren’t immigrants supposed to have an equal opportunity to work and cultivate the land?

Who owns the resources in the first place? Aren’t immigrants supposed to have an equal opportunity to work and cultivate the land?

When my two boys fight over a toy, I tell them sharing is caring. Why do we have to fight, when there is enough for everybody? Isn’t God our provider?

The US attracts so many immigrants because of opportunities for employment, land ownership, religious freedom, and adventure. Another reason immigrants are here is because the U.S. was in their home countries. From regime change to economic impact, the results have not been as beautiful as US Americans might think.

I believe in mutual transformation and intercultural exchange, but the idea of the U.S. policing the world while selling the American dream can easily dominate and become a nightmare for those who are marginalized.

When I planned to come to the U.S., it took years to make it happen. I needed to build enough wealth, property, and business ties in my country for the U.S. government to approve my visa. It’s harder for foreigners to come to the U.S. than for U.S. citizens to go to other countries.

As an Indonesian, I saw the U.S. as the world’s economic and military power, the land of the free and the home of the brave. I did not understand that this power was not a sign of God’s favor but a tool of domination, intimidation and manipulation. With this power comes a curse and not a blessing.

I remember feeling intimidated and inferior as I prepared for my visa interview at the US Embassy in Jakarta. But my struggle was nothing compared to the hardships experienced by families separated at the U.S.-Mexican border or those who have died trying to cross the desert into the United States.

US-Mexico Border from the United States side. Photo by Hendy Matahelemual.

Why is the most powerful country in the world so afraid of outsiders and foreigners? I’m not sure, but maybe with power comes the fear of losing power.

Xenophobia — dislike or prejudice against people from other countries — is nothing new. Around 1400 B.C., in Egypt, the Israelites faced the same problem. Long after the era of Joseph, the Israelites had grown in numbers, and the Egyptians felt threatened. Pharaoh commanded that all newborn sons of the enslaved Hebrews should be killed. One baby boy managed to escape the atrocity, and the rest is history. God’s chosen people gained their freedom.

When I see U.S. power and superiority, I see the U.S. less as a Canaan, a land of promise, and more like an Egypt. I think the idea of one nation under God needs to be revisited and redefined. This god that the U.S. is under — is it the God of Scripture? Or another? Jesus said, “No one can serve two masters; for [you] will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth” (Matthew 6:24).

As an immigrant, I see hope in the church. When I came to the U.S., God brought me to a community of believers who practiced true love. This love was not just sentimentality but action — sharing possessions and resources to meet people’s needs. The sharing ranged from financial support to giving me keys to a house where I could stay during my seminary years.

I’m grateful that the God I love and serve doesn’t shut the gates of the kingdom but invites us all to come and share. Let us help all who are oppressed and marginalized, so we can bring blessings to the land.

Home

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Another summer day 
Has come and gone away 
In Paris and Rome 
But I wanna go home …  

Let me go home 
I’m just too far from where you are 
I wanna go home 

Sunset in Bandung, Indonesia, from the balcony of Hendy’s apartment when he lived there. 
Photo provided by Hendy Matahelemual.

These are lyrical excerpts from the song, “Home,” by Michael Bublé. Somehow this song keeps coming back to my mind.   

The reason is obvious. I miss my hometown. Yes, I would rather be in Bandung, Indonesia right now, rather than Paris, Rome, Philadelphia, or anywhere in the world. Bandung is not only the city where I was born and raised, but it is also the city where I met many friends, found my calling in life, married my wife, and first held my oldest child.   

It has been three years since I’ve been back home in Indonesia. The current immigration policy and laws, in addition to the pandemic, do not make it easy for me to travel back home. That is why I wish there were a magical door that I could step through and take me there in a second, satisfying my longing, even for a short time.   

What do I miss? I miss the food, the sound of adhan (Islamic call to prayer) in the air, and the food carts that sell food right at your front door. I miss the morning breeze from the mountain and the color of the sky at dusk. Maybe the saying is right: there is no place like home.   

I’m lucky to have beautiful memories, and I know that not everyone shares my feeling about their hometown. Many have trauma, pain, and tragic memories, causing them to search for another place to call “home” someday. Others simply cannot go back, for numerous reasons, to the place they once called “home.”   

Where do we find home then? Where do you find a safe place? Where you can find a place that can replenish your soul?   

The psalmist wrote, “For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than live in the tents of wickedness” (Psalm 84:10, NRSV).  

Our true home is not in this world. We are just simply passing through. That is why there will always be a longing for home, even when you already at your home. Our bodies will always belong to this world, but our spirits belong with God.  

Jesus said, “There is more than enough room in my Father’s home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?” (John 14:2, NLT) 

Jesus is already showing me the way, and he is there already waiting for us. And I’m not alone now. I have my spiritual family all over the world. I call home any place I am with Jesus and his church.   

Am I My Brother & Sister’s Keeper?

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I’m a proud father of three boys. I love them even though they fight often. They compete for their parents’ attention and to prove their dominance over each other.

The rivalry between my sons can quickly become violent. When they fight, I say, “Remember, you are brothers. Hands are for caring, not for hitting. Don’t ever say you hate your brother. You need to care for and protect each other.”

When one of my boys cries after getting hit by the other one, I ask, “Why is your brother crying?” Many times the answer is, “I do not know.” The first reaction is denial.

God asked a similar question to Cain after he murdered his brother, “Where is your brother Abel?” He said, “I do not know. Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Genesis 4:9). Just like my sons, it’s a denial. Maybe Cain considers Abel more a competitor than a brother.

“I do not know. Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Genesis 4:9)

In today’s world, if the question were asked of Travis and Gregory McMichael — “Where is Ahmaud Arbery, your brother?” — maybe the answer would be: “He’s not our brother. We see him as a threat. That’s why we killed him.”

What if the question were asked to Robert Aaron Long, “Where are your sisters? Where are Soon Chung Park, Hyun Jung Grant, Suncha Kim, Yong Ae Yue, Xiaojie Tan, Delaina Yaun and Daoyou Feng?” 

Maybe he would say, “I don’t know. I never considered them my sisters, otherwise I would not have shot and killed them.”

People are being killed, slashed, attacked, mocked, told to “go back where you came from” just because they have different skin tones and eye shapes than people from the dominant culture.

Why is that? Why is there so much hate and fear over these differences? 

Honestly, I don’t know. But I do know we all share the same ancestors. We are the descendants of Adam and Eve, made in the image of God. We are all brothers and sisters.

Recent scientific studies confirm that humans are all more closely related than we have initially thought. Susanna Manrubia, a theoretical evolutionary biologist at the Spanish National Center for Biotechnology, says, “All of [us] carry the genes of your ancestors because we share the [same] ancestors.”

Maybe people forget we are one race called humanity. In these troubled times, followers of Jesus need to speak up against personal and systemic racism and violence. We need to confess our sins and lament with people who are lamenting. It’s time to build bridges of friendship and solidarity across cultures.

The Enemy uses fear to control, oppress, and dominate. Fear of others is a weapon of evil. As believers, we need to dismantle this weapon. We need to break barriers of race and culture, debunk myths, and refute stereotypes.

There is an Indonesian saying, “Tak kenal maka tak sayang,” which translates, “You can’t love someone you don’t know.”

I believe that in every conflict there is an opportunity: to get to know each other better, learn from each other, and be transformed together.

Step out of your comfort zone. Let’s take this opportunity to become brothers and sisters, ones who love regardless of our differences.

Jesus died for us because he loves us. His blood was spilled so we can heal and unite as brothers and sisters. His blood is enough for us all. Let’s do our part so that no more blood of our brothers and sisters is spilled.

Editor’s Note: This article, in its entirety, first appeared in Anabaptist World on April 16, 2021 and is reprinted with permission.

Finishing a puzzle

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My two boys were excited when we received a puzzle for Christmas. When we opened the present, they could not wait to assemble it. But I knew that finishing a 100-piece-puzzle would be a bit too much for my 3- and 6-year-old boys. I decided to help finish it as a team, and we had fun. 

On my spiritual journey, sometimes I feel like a preschooler finishing a puzzle. There are many complicated areas to figure out as I try to put the teachings of Jesus into practice. Some things I can work out myself, but many others, I can’t understand without help from others. 

Photo: Dmitry Demidov,Pexels.

A beautiful poem, written by John Godfrey Saxe in 1872, illustrates the problem of thinking we can figure everything out for ourselves. You’ve probably heard of it: “The Blind Men and the  Elephant.” 

Each man touches a different part of the elephant and draws a conclusion based on his limited knowledge. The one who touches a tusk is convinced the elephant is like a spear. Another, feeling the trunk, believes it is like a snake. Yet another, touching the elephant’s knee, says it is like a tree. 

Saxe observes that, “each was partly in the right, and all were in the wrong.” He specifically draws a conclusion about religion — “theologic wars” — from his parable. 

Working and studying together with people who don’t share the same worldview with us will make us see a different perspective. I used to think that Christendom and Western Christianity were the answer to all the world’s problems. Because I grew up as a Christian in Indonesia, where 87% of the population is Muslim, I used to think Western culture was superior to mine. I was desperate for a white, Western savior. 

But then, through a personal transformation, I came to realize Western Christianity and Christendom is far from the answer to all world problems. The answer is Jesus, and he’s not from the West or white or Christian. Seeing Jesus as a marginalized, non-dominant-culture person helped me realize how close Jesus is to my suffering as a minority. It turns out I don’t need a white savior. I just need Jesus. 

God created each of us in his image. And God created each of us unique. This combination of similarity and difference brings strength to the body of Christ. Coming from different nations, tribes, and cultures, sometimes we see things the same, sometimes differently. 

But not one of us can see everything. To see God’s big picture, we need to work together. We need to have a deeper conversation with believers who have different worldviews from our own. We need to respect and celebrate these differences as we journey together. We need to worship, eat and read the Scriptures together. 

In Misreading Scripture with Western Eyes, Randolph Richard and Brandon O’Brien write: “We misread [Scripture] because we read alone. We often hear only the interpretation of people just like us.”

I’m grateful for the opportunity to learn and be shaped together with my brothers and sisters in Christ whom God has placed around me. I know it’s going to be a long journey. But now I can finally stop trying too hard to become “American” and embrace the fact that we are strangers and aliens within all cultures. We are all trying to find our place in the puzzle: reconciling, creating one new humanity, working toward peace and completing God’s big picture, the kingdom of God, on earth as in heaven. 

“We misread [Scripture] because we read alone. We often hear only the interpretation of people just like us.”

Editor’s Note: This article, in its entirety, first appeared in Anabaptist World on March 16, 2021 and is reprinted with permission.

I Feel as if God Has Given Me a New Name

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“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” says Juliet in William Shakespeare’s, Romeo and Juliet.

Names have meaning because they reveal our identity. Why does the right name matter? Can changing names change your identity? Confucius once said, “The beginning of wisdom is to call things by their proper name.”

In 1967, in Indonesia, the country where I was born, the government suggested all people of Chinese-Indonesian descent change their name to an Indonesian name. Though officially just a suggestion, in reality it was a type of forced assimilation, intended to eliminate ethnic Chinese identity.

Most Indonesian Chinese families have two names even today — one for themselves and their family and another for government identification purposes.

My parents named me Hendy after my grandfathers, Hendrik and Eddy, typically European names. My last name comes from an Ambonesse name, which is my ethnic origin from my father’s side.

There was a time when I was ashamed of my last name. I never used it; it felt too ethnic and different, not as common as Indonesian and European names. Instead I used my middle name, Stevan, which is more European and culturally acceptable.

After I studied more about intercultural work, I felt a need to get in touch with my family name again. I felt that I had a revelation to use my last name. I believe my name has a story, and I want to know more about it.

Cultural assimilation occurs in all parts of the world. But unity is not uniformity. Uniqueness is not division.

Although the dominant culture pressures us to conform, I believe God created us uniquely. We don’t need to conform to any dominant culture but be transformed into God’s image. I believe God is against cultural homogeneity and ethnocentrism. No culture or ethnicity is better than another. We are equally broken and equally beautiful.

God scattered the people who built the tower of Babel because they wanted to make a society in their own image, governed by their own standards. They were proud of it and wanted to make a name for themselves.

It takes the work of Jesus on the cross to redeem the fallen nature of human beings. It takes the power of the Holy Spirit to enable us to communicate cross-culturally.

In the Old Testament we see the changing of names for the purpose of cultural assimilation. Hananiah, Mishael and Azaria had to change their Hebrew names to Chaldean names: Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. In the New Testament it was common for a Jew to have two names, one Hebrew and one Greek. In fact, the Apostle Paul never changed his name: Saul was a Hebrew name; Paul was a Greek name.

As I prepared this article I did some research on the meaning of my last name. Previously I didn’t know what Matahelemual meant. It was not easy to find the answer. I had to check with relatives who know the Ambonesse language. Finally, I got a verifiable answer: Matahelemual means Open Door. I’m grateful to know that, and I feel as if God has given me a new name.

There are names given by humans and names given by God. The name given by God is the name that will lead us to God’s promises. God changed Abram’s name to Abraham, Sarai’s to Sarah, Jacob’s to Israel and Simon’s to Peter. Through those names God gave new beginnings, new hopes, new blessings. A name is a prayer. What’s in your name?

A version of this article first appeared in “Anabaptist World” on December 15, 2020.

Those who sow will reap

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“Whoever sows will reap,” says Pastor Buddy Hannanto, when he talks about the joys and sorrows of serving God. Hannanto especially knows this from the way God miraculously inspired his personal life, his family, and his ministry to grow.

Pastor Buddy Hannanto and his wife, Susy, of International Worship Church. Photo provided by Buddy Hannanto

Buddy Hannanto was born and raised in the city of Jakarta in Indonesia. He began working in  ministry and was active in youth ministry since high school. Through Indonesian Charismatic Pentecostal Church (GPKDI), he ministered in schools. During college, Pastor Buddy began his pulpit ministry at the GPKDI church branches spread throughout the cities of Jakarta and Tangerang.

In 1992, Hannanto’s parents received visas to the US through the green card lottery in Indonesia, allowing them to live in the United States. Hannanto and his parents moved to California that year.

Upon arrival in California, Pastor Buddy returned to ministry. He met Virgo Handojo and together, they served at JKI Anugerah Church in Sierra Madre, CA. Because of his ministerial experiences in Indonesia, Pastor Buddy was often assigned to fill the pulpit in other churches.

In 1995, Pastor Buddy was asked to start a fellowship in Alhambra, CA with Haryono Margono. This fellowship later developed into Indonesian Mennonite Church. Eventually, the name was changed to Indonesian Worship Church. In 1996, Haryono Margono resigned as pastor and Pastor Buddy was appointed the church’s pastor. 

Under Pastor Buddy’s leadership, Indonesian Worship Church grew from a church of only Indonesians to a church that serves non-Indonesians as well. As a result, in 2016 the church changed its name to International Worship Church.  In 2019, Buddy was ordained by Franconia Mennonite Conference and is now a credentialed pastor in Mosaic Mennonite Conference.

“Service is a gift and opportunity which builds a crown in heaven,” says Pastor Buddy. Since 2004, he has been working full-time for the church. As pastor, he leads services on Sundays and cell-groups and Bible studies on weekdays. Throughout the week he offers support and help to the congregation, such as accompanying them to the immigration office or doctor. 

“The call of God’s servant to the ethnic church has demands to serve the congregation outside of just preaching in the pulpit,” says Pastor Buddy. “The congregation considers us family.” Frequently, Pastor Buddy is called upon for assistance from other church pastors and congregations. 

The Hannanto Family: Pastor Buddy (sitting), (left to right) Rachel, Jason, and Susy. Photo provided by Buddy Hannanto.

“If we are truly serving, the people we serve will love us,” reflects Pastor Buddy.  “Service is carried out with a sincere heart and with joy. The results can be seen through the fruits that can be enjoyed today, both through the growth and the sincerity of the congregation one serves.”

“We must be like Christ and become Christians who have spiritual fruits and not only spiritual gifts,” Pastor Buddy shares.  “A gift without spiritual fruit is temporary, but if we pursue the fruit of the spirit, the results will remain.”

Now Pastor Buddy is studying to get a Doctor of Ministry degree, which has been his dream since he arrived in the US. “God gave me the opportunity to go to school,” he says. “I don’t want to back down. I want to go ahead and take the opportunity.”

Pastor Buddy lives in Alhambra, California with his wife, Susy, and their two children, Jason and Rachel. When he has time with his busy schedule, Pastor Buddy enjoys running to keep in shape.

Seeing With New Lenses

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by Hendy Matahelemual, Indonesian Light congregation (Philadelphia, PA)

When I was a little boy, I wanted to wear glasses. I used to play with my parents’ glasses. I would put them on, but of course, I could not see clearly.  My parents would discourage me from playing with their glasses. But I felt so cool when I did. Both of my parents wore glasses and some of my friends at school did too. So for me, glasses were cool. That’s why I was a bit disappointed knowing that my vision was just fine, 20/20, and I didn’t need glasses. That was a long time ago.  

“20/20 vision” is a term used to describe normal visual acuity measured at a distance of 20 feet. At the beginning of 2020, I was excited in my faith, believing that God would give me a “perfect vision,” but my excitement changed after the pandemic hit. Now six months have passed. Seeing God’s vision each day is not easy in 2020, or maybe we just need to see it with a new lens. 

What is God’s vision for me this year? The writer of Proverbs said, “When there is no vision, the people perish” (Proverbs 29:18, KJV).  I often pray, “God, I want to see what you see, I want to feel what you feel.” Sometimes I get a revelation, and sometimes I don’t. But one thing is for sure: God always gives me a new lens. God always shows me a new perspective. 

No one could predict 2020 was going to be like this: pandemic, war, police brutality, racial justice issues, wildfires, hurricanes, earthquakes, economic crises, and more.  No one saw it coming, but is this a new thing?  

The book of Ecclesiastes (1:9) says,  “What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun” (NIV). Maybe this is right; there is nothing new.  Maybe the reason that we don’t see it is because we choose not to see it. 

Every aspect of humanity has fallen. In the era of the fastest 5G internet connection, humanity is still very slow to forgive and forget. Most humans still choose to retaliate rather than turn the other cheek. It feels like the four horsemen are just around the corner. 

My friend said to me recently, that at this particular time, she can really understand the proverb, “Ignorance is bliss.”  It’s easier for us to wear our comfortable glasses instead of wearing the glasses that see all this messy reality. God wants us to have “perfect vision,” seeing the world as this big mess that only Jesus can heal (both in Spirit and with His second coming). Or as my friend said, “There’s no Messiah without a Mess.” 

Seeing with a new lens means that we see reality as it is, fully embracing pain, fear, struggle, and suffering to the fullest before giving it to God. Sometimes seeing with a “perfect vision” means that you will have blurry vision, a vision with less clarity, due to the tears in your eyes. These tears come because you finally understand the pain, struggle, and suffering in our humanity.  

Sometimes seeing with a new lens is seeing with a grieving eye. As Jesus said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matt. 5:4, ESV).

What is Your Flag?

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by Hendy Matahelemual, Indonesian Light congregation (Philadelphia, PA)

(Editor’s note: August 17 is Independence Day in Indonesia. This past Monday was the 75th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence.)

An Indonesian flag waves on a house in South Philly on August 17, Indonesian Independence Day.

My nationality is Indonesian, so the flag of my country is “Bendera Merah Putih.”  It is a simple red and white flag with two equal horizontal bands. It was introduced and hoisted publicly, 75 years ago during the proclamation of Indonesian independence on August 17, 1945, in Jakarta, Indonesia.

When I was in high school, I was a member of the flag-raising squad. August 17 was the most important day for us. On that day, the squad had one job to do: raise the flag as a part of the ceremony to celebrate Indonesian Independence Day. 

At that time, I was not Mennonite. My parents didn’t teach me Anabaptism values, such as separation of church and state and non-violence. After my introduction to Anabaptism, everything related to Independence Day found new meaning. The way I view the flag also found new meaning.

National flags are patriotic symbols, often associated with the military because of their original use. But as a follower of Christ, our identity as a Child of God is beyond any flag or governmental institution. 

We don’t need to take pride in our own national identity. We don’t need to make our country great (again). We don’t need to pledge our allegiance to the flag. We are God’s people, a holy nation.  

We do need to work together, instead of competing, by working across state and political boundaries. 

Perhaps the only competition that I enjoy between nationalities is the FIFA (soccer) World Cup.  I remember watching the World Cup with my dad and uncles when I was a little boy. Our family never missed it.  The first thing that I noticed as a boy when watching the World Cup was all the colorful flags of the teams. My favorite teams will always be the Netherlands and Argentina. I remember their flags very well.

In the book of Exodus, we find that flags are mentioned. At that time, Moses built an altar to God. He named the altar, “The Lord is my banner” (Exodus 17:15, NIV). I keep wondering what God’s banner looks like. I don’t know, but I will argue that it is not “Bendera merah putih,” nor the Stars and Stripes, Union Jack, or even the flag of Zion. 

I believe God’s flag should unite us as followers of Christ and not divide us. God’s flag needs to represent our victory against principalities and rulers of this dark world and spiritual forces of evil. 

I believe the blood of Jesus is one “spiritual” flag that can unite us. It is not made from a piece of fabric, but it will give us victory from sin and death. It can reach people from a liberal, capitalist, and communist country, crossing continents and geographical boundaries, regardless of nationalities. If we carry this flag as part of our faith, as followers of Christ, we will be effective witnesses who transform life while also being transformed by God.