Mosaic Mennonites

Missional - Intercultural - Formational

Indonesian

Seeing With New Lenses

by

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).

Holy Hospitality

by

By Ben Sutter, benjamins5@goshen.edu, Franconia Conference Communications

One thing I’ve experienced this first week of living in Philadelphia is hospitality. I arrived last Monday at one in the morning and was picked up by my boss, Steve Kriss. Steve took me to his own house, because my more permanent housing arrangements hadn’t been settled yet. He welcomed me into his life and his work for three days, allowing me to live with him. He embraced my questions and my musings as he began to describe the city and the conference. He helped me start recognizing and thinking about the nuances and characteristics that I would run into in this new setting. I felt acknowledged and accepted into his work in the conference. Steve showed me only the beginning of the incredible hospitality that I have encountered in my first eleven days in Philly.

Last Wednesday I was welcomed into the home of Pastor Aldo, one of the pastors of Philadelphia Praise Center. Aldo lives in a home with five other Indonesian young men and an older woman we call “Ibu” or “mother”. I’ve come to dearly love staying in this house, even though I’ve barely been there a week. Everyone in the house is busy, but they’re all interested in each other’s lives. Food is a very important part of how we relate to each other. Almost every time I open the front door and come back to the house, the first question I’m asked is if I’ve eaten yet. Whoever is home at mealtime eats together. I fill my plate with rice and noodles and Ibu always tells me that I need more. She takes my plate from me and adds at least one more heaping spoonful.

My roommates Yonathan and Ardi have embraced me as a friend and brother in Christ. They’ve taken me around the city and shown me the ropes. Yonathan showed off Chinatown and the Redding Market, while Ardi explained the train system to me and took me to the train station to buy my ticket to work. They’ve treated me to food, buying me McDonalds and Phileo Yogurt. We hang out together in the evenings, watching TV in the house and walking around the city.

This past Sunday, I attended my first services at Philadelphia Praise Center, one in Indonesian and a second in Spanish. I was amazed at everyone’s willingness to include me. People welcomed me as I walked into the sanctuary, shaking my hand and saying “hello,” “hola,” or just giving me a big smile. Even though languages were different, communication was possible.

In the Indonesian service, I listened to the message through a translator speaking into a head set. The songs weren’t translated, however, and many were sung in Indonesian. Most of the songs showed English translations alongside the Indonesian words on the screen in the front of the church, but I found myself drawn to singing the Indonesian. It was too hard to follow both the English translation and the Indonesian words sung by the congregation. Singing the Indonesian words, even in my poor pronunciation, made me feel apart of the community. It didn’t matter if I knew exactly what I was singing or even if I was doing it well. All that mattered was that I was joining the community in praising God. I could tell that at the core of whatever I was singing, God was being praised—God received the glory.

I’m excited to see where this summer takes me. I have felt embraced by the conference and supported by its people. I recognize the presence of God in the relationships that I’ve begun to foster and the barriers that I’m beginning to help break down. I pray that as I continue my work, I will continue to see God’s dream for the world revealed in authentic and tangible ways.