Peace

Ain't gonna study war no more

December 11, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

by Duane Hershberger

I used to hear this little jingle during the 1964 presidential election: “In your heart you know he’s right, A-U-H-2-0.” Barry Goldwater ran against Lyndon Johnson.

Conservatives generally supported Goldwater. He appealed to a murky, inner voice that shouted fears of a nuclear bomb attack, Communism and the new era that began Nov. 22, 1963, in Dallas, Texas, when President Kennedy was assassinated.

Even a little kid felt uneasy. Storms around the world threatened our peace and quiet. They told us the Communists could take over Vietnam. Then they’d take over Laos and Cambodia. On to the Philippines, Japan, India, Africa, Turkey, Europe. They’d leap at us from the east and they’d leap at us from the west and take over America. If we didn’t stop them in Vietnam, they’d soon be in Virginia. School kids girded up their loins for the leaping by crawling under their desks.

Kings and generals peddle fear to get people to fight their wars. Some people buy it. Some voters’ murky, inner fears hummed Goldwater’s little jingle, and he got votes.

Others were skeptical, so they voted for Johnson, and he won the election. But the war grew and grew until 50,000 Americans and hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese died to keep the Communists and their leaping ways out of Virginia.

People in our church taught a Christian discipline called nonresistance. We wouldn’t go to war. We wouldn’t sue someone because of a bad debt. If someone hit you, you were supposed to turn the other cheek. The discipline is based on multiple biblical teachings to love your neighbors as yourselves, return good for evil and, “Thou shalt not kill.”

But lots of nonresistant, turn-the-other-cheek, plain Mennonite grownups were sympathetic to Goldwater and later with Nixon and wars on Communism. Kind words were even said about George Wallace, the famous segregationist governor who vowed to keep black people out of the University of Alabama in 1963. Conversations around lunch tables after church were often about the threats of Communists, hippies, the Black Panthers, riots, revolution and unease that something stable was slipping away.

It slipped away. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated in 1968. The Beatles, Kent State, Robert Kennedy’s assassination and Woodstock happened. In 1968, many young people voted no on grownups and war. But politicians toss vast hunks of red meat to people’s murky, inner fears and win elections. Inner fears didn’t go hungry during the 1960s. Young people lost the 1968 election.

Sunday school teachers and major league preachers told us that the opposite of faith is unbelief. But when you think about it, there is no such thing as unbelief. Everyone believes something. Unbelief is just the label for people who don’t believe what you believe. Calling it unbelief makes it sound sinister, and sinister begets fear.

The opposite of faith is fear—fear fed by the murky, inner voice that rings alarms about undocumented immigrants, Muslim terrorists, government takeovers of this and that, gay people, growing influence of minorities and declining churches. You can get otherwise reasonable people to believe boatloads of nonsense if you make them afraid.

A whole passel of religious people lives more by fear than faith. Kings, generals and presidents are slick at grabbing those murky, inner fears, wrapping them up in religious packages, then pushing them to voters like candy to a big-eyed kid with a sweet tooth.

Plain Mennonite people in bonnets and beards eat it up as much as anyone. Adolph Hitler used church language as cover to kill Jews, gypsies, homosexuals and lots of other people whom well-intentioned church people quietly distrusted. His soldiers went to Poland, France and Auschwitz with the words, “Gott Mit Uns” engraved on their belt buckles. That’s German for “God With Us” or “Emmanuel,” as in “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.”

And we must fight the things we’re afraid of, right? We must fight Communists because they might leap into Virginia. We must fight longhaired, British rock singers who wanna hold your hand because lots of people holding hands might lead to anarchy. We must fight to keep the blacks and whites separated because who knows what would happen if black people went to the university. Someday they might run a bank, and Lord only knows what could happen then. And so on. Feed those fears.

Kings and generals sit in their great houses and tell you war is about a grand cause. Millions of people in their small houses get rah-rahed up for the grand cause and march into battle. For the motherland. For freedom. To turn back evildoers. Kings and generals, with straight faces, will even tell you the grand war cause is peace.

But killing is personal. Its between you and the other guy. You have a gun and the other guy has a gun. He has a grand cause, you have a grand cause. One of you will die for the grand cause, but the killing is personal. Suppose the other guy isn’t a Christian. Kill him and score a run for your grand cause. But you took away every future opportunity for the other guy to receive God’s grace and become a disciple. And if you believe in a hell, you just sent him there permanently. What would you say to God if God asks you why you killed the guy when God was still speaking to him, drawing him into his love, perhaps preparing him for a great work? He did that with the Apostle Paul. Are you smart enough to answer God? Or, suppose the other guy is a Christian. What would you say if God asks you why you killed someone he gave life to and loved enough to die for? Are you smart enough to answer God?

You took way too much time to think about what you might say to God, so the other guy shoots you and you die. You are immediately in God’s eternal presence. The God who looks after the lilies and the sparrows will take care of the things left behind like your family and the grand cause. And the other guy has time left on his clock to repent and become bathed in God’s love. Brutal as it sounds, that’s how it shakes out. I’d hate to be in the other guy’s shoes when God stares him down and asks hard questions about that gunshot, but that’s not my problem anymore. This all goes against the way we usually think, but that’s because our brains have a problem.

Here’s the problem. Start with the Apostle Paul, a self-proclaimed terrorist who killed Christians because he was afraid they’d spoil the Jewish religion and way of life. Suppose an overzealous disciple picked up a rock and thunked him on the head the day before he set out for Damascus and met Jesus? The disciple goes home, happy that he eliminated an evil-doing, terrorist threat. The grand cause scored a run.

But thank God Paul lived long enough to tell us in his Romans letter that the key to faithful living is to change our thinking with a big attitude adjustment. Paul calls it a mind transformation. “Be transformed by renewing your mind,” Paul wrote some years after he wasn’t thunked. A mind with the inner, murky fear is the old way of living.

Thinking with a transformed, faith-focused mind is the new way of living. Think about what we would’ve missed with an ill-timed thunking of the Apostle Paul the next time you hear someone rant about killing off all the evildoers.

Fearful people almost bask in the threats. “Did you hear about the Muslim who … ?” “Did you hear about the Mexican gang in Los Angeles that … ?” “Did you hear about the kid who tried to pray in school … ?” “Did you hear … ?” And so on. And so on. Fearful people build walls and wage war.

Faithful people build schools, communities and roads, even in their enemy’s motherland. Faithful people build medical clinics for someone who speaks another language. Faithful people show hospitality to an adversary. Faithful people pick up a sword and beat it into a plowshare. Faithful people give a soft answer to turn away wrath. Faithful people do good to their enemies and, in so doing, heap coals of fire on their enemies’ heads. Paul said that, too. Faithful people act like they have eternal life and don’t need to squeeze every last beat out of their heart muscle. Faithful people even speak out like prophets when their brothers and sisters pay too much attention to those murky, inner fears.

Instead of trying to persuade other people to start believing in Jesus, we Christians should start believing Jesus. Jesus said to “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Sometimes that’s easy and sometimes it’s hard. When it’s easy, you can do good all by yourself. But when it’s hard, you need faith. When it’s hard, you can do unto others as you would have them do to you only when you follow the North Star of a faith that calls you to a higher, better place of goodness. Pay attention to that murky, inner-fear voice and you just hit back and thunk over and over. And what do you say to God then?

Jesus said, “Don’t let your hearts be troubled.” Jesus said, “Don’t worry about food and clothes because your Father will take care of you.” Jesus said, “Don’t be afraid of the one who can kill your body; be afraid of the one who tries to take your soul.” Politicians push fear of Communism or terrorism to trade your soul for a vote to keep them in power. Even in church pews, the boatloads of fear nonsense goes on. Bless us with better BS detectors, dear God.

Most world religions have peace, consideration for others and respect for our brothers and sisters as their core belief. Look at the core beliefs of Hindus, Buddhists, Jews and Muslims. Peace, consideration for others and respect for our brothers and sisters is right at the center. Their core beliefs are about giving your time, talents and treasure to make this world a better place. Jesus was quoting well-known sayings from other religions when he said the words “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

Each of those religions also has its fringe of fear-minded people and the monuments they leave that soil their faith heritage. Those monuments include the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, the New York Twin Towers, the Oklahoma City Federal Building, Oscar Romero’s tombstone, the Mumbai hotel and on and on.

Christians have peace, consideration for others and respect for our brothers and sisters as core beliefs. In fact, we have not only the belief, but the unique, living example of the Word from God, a child from heaven who grew up as one of us. Jesus was guided by the North Star of heaven’s truth about profound love. When he was challenged on it, he stood rooted on that North Star path. People who listened to their murky, inner fears instead of looking up to the North Star of their salvation pounded nails in his hands and hung him on a cross. But that wasn’t the story’s end. Fear’s triumph lasted three days. Faith and resurrection own every other day of history.

If any religion has an antidote—the steroids, hormones, hydrotherapy, ear plugs or whatever—to quiet the murky, inner-fear voice, it’s Christianity. You’d think we’d sit in our churches, look at the pictures of Christ healing the sick, Christ leading the lost sheep, Christ on the cross and Christ rising from the tomb and be the most courageous people in the world.

You’d think we’d sing such songs as “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God, a Bulwark Never Failing” and “Blessed Assurance, Jesus is Mine” and “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms” and “How Firm a Foundation” and “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me, I once was lost and now am found, was blind but now I see” and believe these profound truths and live joyful, courageous lives.

This is us. Love prevails. Because of the resurrection we lift all our time, talents and treasure to the cross. We joyfully give our bodies and lives completely to the cause of bringing God’s kingdom to earth. Christ is alive. Even death won’t stop the North Star of God’s love and light from shining its bright shine. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Nothing. We are those courageous people only when God transforms our minds.

Forgive us, dear Lord, for “Gott Mitt Uns.” Forgive us the wars we fight. Forgive us for paying attention to that murky, inner-fear voice. Lift our eyes today and guide us, like the Wise Men of old to the place where Jesus lives.

Duane Hershberger works with Habitat for Humanity and has helped pastor several Franconia Conference congregations. He worships at Germantown Mennonite Church in Philadelphia.

Making peace in the neighborhood

November 21, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

by Samantha E. Lioi, Minister of Peace and Justice

When congregational leaders of Nations Worship Center (NWC) chose to purchase a large old commercial building on Ritner St. in South Philadelphia, they couldn’t have guessed the disruption this would be in their lives—and the lives of the folks in that neighborhood. The building was once home to the Knights of Columbus and a catering business. Residents remember attending Sweet Sixteen parties and wedding receptions held there years ago. But for the last 10 years, it’s been vacant. When the neighbors and neighborhood association heard of NWC’s plans, Pastor Beny Krisbianto and others began hearing rumors of discontent and surprising misunderstandings. Some worried that the congregation would allow homeless folks to stay there. They feared this possible change in the human landscape of the place. Many were concerned about the parking spaces worshipers would occupy. Some saw the appearance of Nations Worship congregants mostly from Southeast Asia and assumed the building would become a Buddhist temple.

It’s an established neighborhood, a predominantly Italian neighborhood. When I heard this, I was angry and embarrassed. I’m half Italian, and I feel a strong identification with much of Italianness as I know it. And, sometimes my people get carried away. There’s of course the stereotype of fist-shaking bluster, a bark that is much worse than our bite. In my personal and familial experience, that stereotype has been pretty true. I remember my dad getting angry and yelling about some small thing, and the next minute he’d be whistling a happy tune around the house. I’m not exaggerating. Used to drive my mother crazy.

But then there’s the bite. I admit, in some ways I’m confused by the strong reaction in the neighborhood against Nations Worship. The Italians in my life are warm, generous, passionate about most of life. On the other hand, I have noticed a cultural tendency to take care of our own and be wary of outsiders. Let’s be honest: most tightly-knit communities with a history in a certain place are this way. I’ve heard stories of Northerners moving South and never feeling accepted, after many years. As human beings, we often give hospitality that is only skin-deep.

Then there’s this weird dynamic that many minorities experience of becoming like people who were once their enemies. It shouldn’t be this way, but it happens over and over again. It wasn’t so long ago that immigrants from Italy who spoke English with a strong accent were a significant percentage of Northeastern urban populations in the U.S. My great-grandfather was one of them. Donato Lioi (known in the States as Dan) left his home country and moved to Newark, NJ as a teenager. Like many immigrants, he worked as a common laborer in construction. On Sunday mornings he would tell his young grandson (my dad), “David…meta le’Meeta d’Pressa…Walter Frankize…”—his own pronunciation of famed journalist Walter Cronkite. My dad grew up understanding his grandfather’s Engliano as if it were an official language of the UN. It was normal, everyday family life for him.

Now, I lean in to listen and understand English spoken with an Indonesian accent as I meet with my brothers and sisters from Nations Worship Center. I respect their hard work learning English, and their desire to be a positive presence in whatever neighborhood they find themselves. As they face resistance, they are not so unlike Italians who faced labels like WOP and prejudice from those who’d been here longer. And because they are in a vulnerable position as new and recent immigrants, they do not respond to this resistance with clenched fists and a stubborn refusal to cooperate. In some respects, they have no choice but to cooperate.

It’s understandable that folks would ask about parking; they’ve been used to parking in the unused spots for years. It’s quite possible that many of the neighbors had never met an Indonesian Christian before. But when Beny and other leaders—accompanied by several Anglo brothers and sisters—attended a public neighborhood meeting, they were saddened and somewhat frightened by the yelling and the accusations that faced them. They wanted to be a blessing to their neighbors; how could they explain themselves in a way that would be heard? Since that night, leaders of NWC have met several other neighborhood residents who have welcomed them and said they’re glad to have them around. How to relate in loving ways with those who are still unsatisfied with their presence is an ongoing question, one they are living one conversation at a time.

It’s understandable that, having established ourselves in a place, having developed routines and deep relationships there, we want to protect all that. It’s human. But Christ calls us further than that. In Christ there is no Jew or Greek, no Italian or Indonesian, male or female, citizen or non-citizen. That can be a tough pill to swallow. But Jesus’ teachings usually are.

Broken bread for a broken system

October 4, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

by Emily Ralph, eralphservant@mosaicmennonites.org

It’s a misty evening as I sit cuddled under a blanket with my laptop and a snoring dog, watching the presidential debate. Even as I type, President Obama and Governor Romney are debating the economy.

I feel my temperature rising, and it has nothing to do with the blanket. I grew up in a family in which “debate” sounds more like calm discussion and a stern voice feels like yelling. Just watching the debate is feeding my anxiety.

And, if anyone else experiences conflict like I do, the election this coming November could be incredibly divisive for the church. And how much moreso, when you mix people like me with those who are very comfortable with debate, raised voices, and hearty conversation? How do we keep our eyes focused on our shared allegiance—to Jesus Christ—in the midst of such diversity and disagreement?

Leaders in Mennonite churches across the nation suggest a simple answer: Election Day Communion. “Election Day Communion is a way of engaging and resisting the world,” reflected Joe Hackman, pastor at Salford (Harleysville, Pa.) congregation, who will be hosting Election Day Communion this November. “It’s a small demonstration of being the peace of Christ in a noisy, partisan culture—a sort of countercultural statement about what we believe ultimately holds our politics together.”

“During the day of November 6, 2012, we will make different choices for different reasons, hoping for different results,” the Election Day Communion website says. “But that evening while our nation turns its attention to the outcome of the presidential election, let’s again choose differently. But this time, let’s do it together.”

Tuesday night communion is not a new idea—Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, and Lutheran churches have held Tuesday communion services for generations. And Election Day Communion doesn’t just belong to Mennonites. Doylestown (Pa.) congregation will be hosting an ecumenical service, according to associate pastor KrisAnne Swartley. “We are inviting other area churches outside the Mennonite denomination to partner with us in planning the service,” she said. “We want to cross all kinds of cultural dividing lines in this communion service—we know that God’s Kingdom of love also crosses all boundaries.”

Wayne Nitzsche and the elder team at Perkasie (Pa.) congregation plan to keep the service simple. “Our church mission statement is ‘to model Jesus,’” Nitzsche said. “As we come together the evening of November 6, we’ll model Jesus in some small way as we remember that Jesus non-violently addressed the political powers and established a new [politic] of love. We love as he loved as we eat and drink with those who voted and those who didn’t. ALL will be welcomed at the table.”

As I type, I feel my heartbeat slowing. Governor Romney and President Obama are still battling it out in the background, but the rhetoric no longer feeds my anxiety. There is hope. “God continues to demonstrate that another world is possible,” said Chris Nickels, pastor of Spring Mount (Pa.) congregation. “There is a path that leads out of a divisive cultural reality and Christ invites us to come to the table to take a step forward together.”

Can enemies become friends?

September 20, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

Jean Claude (Whitehall) — Jean Claude Nkundwa shares his story of living through Burundi’s civil war. Photo by Patti Connolly.

by Rose Bender, Whitehall

I guess I started thinking about this earlier in the summer. I was acting as ‘crowd control’ at a peace camp at Franklin Park in Allentown. The story teller had the kids acting out Acts 10—where Peter and Cornelius move from historic animosity toward friendship and salvation. A Jewish fisherman, a Roman Centurion, and their respective cohorts took on a decidedly urban, Latino flavor. The kids seemed to enjoy the story, but when they were asked to think about why someone like Peter would be friends with someone like Cornelius their answers were painfully honest. When asked to imagine creative ways to respond to bullies—they couldn’t seem to think of anything but fighting back. And I could see why a white woman of privilege, suggesting Jesus would have them do otherwise, didn’t necessarily sit well with them.

The story time ended as it had each night, by the children passing around a ‘blessing cup’ filled with apple juice and saying words that went along with the story. That night they said something like “The Spirit of Jesus can make friends out of enemies’. One by one, children who had eagerly taken from the cup on previous nights refused to drink. And I went home with an uncomfortable knot in my stomach. The story of peace hadn’t seemed like ‘good news’ to them. (Read Samantha Lioi’s reflection)

The memory of that evening stayed with me all summer. It was why I was looking forward to having Phoebe Kilby, from Eastern Mennonite University’s Center for Justice and Peacebuilding, come and share with our congregation in worship on August 5. She was bringing a current student from Burundi, Jean Claude Nkundwa. In planning the worship, we had chosen to read Matthew 5:38-48 and entitle their talk ‘Can enemies be friends?’ I wanted to hear a modern-day, real life story, from someone who had been willing to drink from the blessing cup of reconciliation.

At a Saturday evening gathering and during our worship on Sunday morning, I heard the complicated story of Burundi’s civil war and Jean Claude’s experience during it. He was a teenager when his village exploded in violence from which only three of his family escaped—hiding by day and traveling under cover of night—not knowing who or where the enemy might be. In his words, his “mind was paralyzed” and he questioned the existence of God. He began to believe the only way to peace was through military dictatorship.

Phoebe Kilby (Whitehall) — Phoebe Kilby tells Whitehall congregation about discovering her ancestors had been slave owners. Photo by Patti Connolly

But slowly and mysteriously, through a variety of people and situations, he was able to believe again in the God of Moses—present even in the wilderness. His journey toward healing has included reconciliation with folks in his village. He is a remarkable man—who feels called by God to continue working for truth-telling and justice in his own country, and dreams of starting an Eastern Africa Peace-Building Institute. “Africa will be prosperous when the heart of Africa will be healed.”

After our time together, I wanted to bring Jean Claude to Franklin Park. I wanted the kids to hear God’s story about Peter and Cornelius from his lips. I wanted them to hear about his village and his family’s land that is now being farmed by former enemies.

I would like them to hear Phoebe’s story, too. When she discovered that she was a descendent of slave owners, she reached out to the descendants of the slaves her family owned. Her journey of reconciliation includes working together with her new-found cousins to fund and install a historic marker at the high school their family had worked to desegregate. I think that each of them would have made the story of Peter and Cornelius come alive to the kids in a new way.

Can enemies really become friends? After listening to Jean Claude and Phoebe, I know it is possible, but it requires holy imagination and committed perseverance—joining the work of the Spirit. In reflecting on their stories and my time at Franklin Park, I have been struck by the importance of sharing where my own story intersects with the biblical narrative. Perhaps that is what bearing witness really means. We speak about the Good News we have seen and heard and lived. I wonder if that would have made a difference to my young friends at Franklin Park. I wonder if they would have been more open to imagine another way. I am trusting there will be more opportunities to bear witness and live into the story together—the blessing cup of reconciliation overflowing.

Seeking Shalom at Peaceful Living

September 18, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

by Ella Roush, peacefulliving.org

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus instructs us to pray, “…Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.” (Matthew 6:10)

These words guide Peaceful Living Executive Director Joe Landis in his work with people with disabilities and their families whose lives, when pushed to the fringes of society, often unfold as less than heavenly. He sees his job as “helping to build God’s kingdom here on earth” by reaching out to these families, congregations, and the community at large to join together to seek peace.

“The word that best expresses what peace can be for Peaceful Living is shalom,” Joe says. “It suggests a wholeness, a completeness in relationship with God, and with yourself as a person fully integrated with your group, your town, and the world. It starts with every individual and every act of kindness we do, regardless of how small.”

Those acts of kindness, or living shalom, are demonstrated through the nonprofit’s Friendship Connection Program that connects a person with a disability with a caring friend in the community. Friendship Connection director Loretta Moyer, Rockhill congregation (Telford, Pa.), has facilitated matches for 80 individuals.

One such friendship developed between Phillip, who is served by Peaceful Living, and Aaron Leatherman, Towamencin congregation (Lansdale, Pa.). When they had been friends for about three years, Phillip underwent major surgery. Aaron visited Phillip regularly while he was in the hospital. “It meant so much to me to have Aaron there,” Phillip told Loretta.

“When I visited Phillip in the hospital, he got tears when I arrived…,” Aaron commented. Aaron had never had a close connection to a person with a disability, but he noted that a short time after their matching they had established a “real” friendship. Aaron said, “We are friends now, and there is no going back.”

Everyone reached by Peaceful Living is continually giving and receiving these sometimes small, sometimes large, acts of kindness. Another way Joe Landis says his organization pursues peace is by listening to each other. He includes everyone: staff, people served and their families, board members, stakeholders, and community partners. Open-hearted, open-minded listening is a rare gift that Joe fosters throughout the organization. He believes careful listening allows us to uncover the God-given gifts in others and ourselves so that each person can feel the satisfaction of contributing to, as well as receiving the benefits of, an inclusive community.

Dictionary.com provides a useful definition of peace in the context of Peaceful Living’s work. It defines peace as, “a state of mutual harmony between people or groups, especially in personal relations.” The word, “mutual,” is crucial to the work of Joe and his staff. At the very heart of the organization’s philosophy lies the premise that serving people with disabilities and their families provides mutual benefit such that the line between the servant and the served becomes blurred. Another Friendship Connection story sheds light on this idea.

In 2008, Loretta Moyer shepherded a friendship match between Bob, a person with a disability, and Jeff Metz. Jeff soon made Bob a part of his family. Whatever fun activities Jeff’s family was doing – picnics, Eagles or Phillies games – Bob was right in the middle of things. Then came the bad news. Jeff had cancer. It was fast moving, and he soon passed away.

Jeff’s widow Janet confirmed her family’s desire to maintain their connection with Bob. So strong is their love for Bob that when Jeff and Janet’s daughter Elisabeth was planning her wedding, she asked Bob to walk her down the aisle in her father’s place. The wedding took place in 2011 with Bob fully involved in wedding party activities. As the planning was taking place, Janet said, “I am looking forward to Bob walking my precious daughter down the aisle…If Jeff can’t do it, then Bob is the next best person to do it.”

The beauty of this relationship is that both Bob and the Metz family mutually exchanged love and support for one another as equals – not as someone better than reaching down to help someone less than. True friendship, real harmony, living shalom emerges in the moment when we look into the eyes of another, and the Christ in them (regardless of religion) touches the Christ in us.

About Peaceful Living

Peaceful Living, a Conference Related Ministry of Franconia Conference, works to build lifelong relationships for individuals with disabilities within congregations and the community. Peaceful Living provides a Congregational Coaching program with area faith communities. The 12-year-old Harleysville-based nonprofit has grown from serving one person in 2000 to serving 75 people each day through in-home services, small residential homes, and the Creative Gifts Program. Creative Gifts gives individuals the opportunity to explore the arts as a vocation or a hobby. The Friendship Connection program has matched 80 individuals with disabilities with caring friends in the community. Led by executive director Joe Landis, Peaceful Living serves primarily residents of Montgomery, Bucks, and Berks counties. Contact Peaceful Living at 610-287-1200.

2012 Peace Camps: Love on a Local Scale, part 3

September 10, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

by Samantha Lioi, Minister of Peace & Justice

Ripple peace camp — Children from the neighborhood join in the Peace Camp held by Ripple Allentown. Photo by Angela Moyer.

What does Anabaptist witness look like? It looks like a neighbor who listens in order to understand, learns from difference, and wants to join in God’s recreating what is broken. In Allentown, we are slowly learning to know—and so to love—our neighbors.

Ripple-Allentown’s first go at a peace camp – three evenings, Wednesday through Friday – was full of important learning. We showed up at Franklin Park, just behind St. Stephen’s Community Outreach Center in west Allentown, a park that is a center of play and activity and the location of the Peace Pole planted last year as part of marking Pastor Tom Albright’s ordination.

Each evening we played team-building games, created small works of art, and sat in a circle for a Scripture story and brief discussion using the “Peace Scarf” – a variation on a talking stick and an effort to practice listening to each other. Only the child with the scarf was to speak, and “if you don’t have the scarf, it’s your turn to…” “Listen!” they answered.

We followed Salford’s structure of learning to respect differences, learning small ways to care for creation, and imagining creative ways to address conflicts. After the Scripture story each evening as we sat cross-legged on blankets covering the blacktop, we passed the Blessing Cup—a small ceramic chalice designated for this purpose. Each evening as I poured the white grape juice, I reminded us that this was a sign that God loves us more than we can imagine and wants us to learn to love each other and God’s world, too. Each evening we repeated a phrase as each child took a sip. The children participated and remembered the phrases from previous nights.

But the last night, the time focused on learning to address conflict peacefully, there was mild mutiny around the Blessing Cup. I had told the story of Peter visiting the house of the centurion, Cornelius, a man who represented the violent oppression of Peter’s people and an unclean Gentile besides. We talked through a modern example of a police officer coming to take one of the girls’ older brother away when he hadn’t done anything—and, even given a bad history between police and the Black American community, somehow showing love and living peaceably with that officer. “The Spirit of Jesus brings peace between enemies,” we said together.

But this time, it didn’t take. When we’d spoken about alternatives to fighting, very few of the children had ideas, and one of the boys was especially insistent that all he could do was hit someone who challenged him.

“The Spirit of Jesus brings peace between enemies.”

Except that night the idea of sharing a cup was particularly distasteful, and a couple kids passed it up, beginning a trend.

“The Spirit of Jesus brings peace between enemies.”

Another child passed the cup without drinking.

“The Spirit of Jesus brings peace between enemies.”

I felt the discomfort of learning the hard way, and the irony was not lost on me. We were passing a common cup, and most of us were opting out. The church is not unfamiliar with such opting out when things are uncomfortable, unusual, or tense. Why had I expected that these kids, who see or experience violence regularly, would feel that they had alternatives? Why did I expect them to immediately accept a good news that requires them to take real bodily risks that I know little about? I learned more about my neighbors in those three days than I had for many months of living in Allentown. Loving them—and loving them enough to be publicly peaceable among them—will mean knowing them even better.

Each congregation moves closer to Jesus as we meet our neighbors where they are, at the point of their uniqueness as God’s deeply loved children, and at the point of their need. As we see them for who they are, we also touch places of our own need, of our own weakness, and of our participation in the resurrection of our Lord Jesus. This Jesus strips fear of its power, walks with the smallest among us as they learn their strength to do what is right, and teaches us as we move out to speak peace and learn peace among our neighbors.

Samantha would love to hear from you! For more information about holding your own Peace Camp, or to share ways that your congregation is living justice and peace in your community, or to request resources on peace, justice, and conflict resolution, contact samantha@interculturalchurch.com.

← Previously, Philadelphia Praise Center

2012 Peace Camps: Love on a Local Scale, part 2

August 27, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

by Samantha Lioi, Minister of Peace & Justice

Just as Salford Peace Camp planners work from their awareness of local needs, newer, urban Anabaptists continue to nurture and shape their children’s imaginations toward creative peacemaking.

Philadelphia Praise Center planned a two-week Peace Camp which stretched into three this summer by popular (eager parental) demand. They met from noon to 4pm, providing a nutritious lunch for the children, all of whom live within ten blocks of the church building in South Philly. Ardi Hermawan of PPC, a senior nursing student at EMU hired by his home congregation for the summer and summer Ministry Inquiry Program intern Erika Bollman worked together to develop the program.

This fall Erika enters her second year of Eastern Mennonite University’s Conflict Transformation masters program—but she is studying peace at the policy level and came into the summer with no experience working with kids, so there was much to learn. She had spent a year in Indonesia, however, with SALT (Serving And Learning Together) between college and grad school, so she brought some cultural understanding and was able to speak with parents in Indonesian. This was particularly helpful since she and Ardi went house to house picking up and dropping off all the children at the beginning and end of each day.

Ardi was inspired by his experience in the Bronx over Spring Break with nine other EMU students through the college’s YPCA (Young People’s Christian Association). Visiting, singing, and sharing stories with patients who are HIV-positive at a clinic and spending time with a woman at a “day care” for elderly folk whose families could or would not care for them, Ardi was amazed by the compassion and connection that can form quickly between two strangers.

In response, Ardi added the theme “faith, hope, and love” to PPC’s Peace Camp during the final week to help the children learn how to do something for the neighborhood. “South Philly [looks] very fragile and broken from the outside,” Ardi reflected. “From the inside, I think there’s something God really wants to do [that has been left] unexplored.”

In its third year, PPC’s Peace Camp introduced the children to a different hero of peace each day, beginning with Anabaptist reformer Menno Simons and including Martin Luther King, Jr., Susan B. Anthony, Mother Teresa, and the local founder of what he hoped would be “a peaceful woods,” William Penn. Pastor Aldo Siahaan chose stories from Scripture according to the theme of the day, teaching about God peacefully splitting land between Abraham and Lot, the just resistance of the Egyptian midwives in refusing to kill Hebrew babies, and the four friends who cared for another enough to carry him to Jesus to be healed. (Gen 13, Exod 1:15-22, and Luke 5:17-26)

They worked on a tight budget, but they still managed to offer several field trips to broaden the experiences of the children who tend to live very locally, grounded in the richness of their Indonesian, Latino, and Vietnamese cultural contexts. They visited the justice and peace-themed exhibits of the Liberty Museum, toured the aquarium in Camden, NJ, created a scavenger hunt throughout South Philly, and one day even handed out cupcakes in local businesses and to passersby on the streets. “The kids were so excited to give away those cupcakes,” Erika recalled, as they were able to connect with people in their neighborhood through simple, joyful generosity.

PPC’s content included appreciating diversity and difference, caring for each other and the earth, and learning to resolve conflict peacefully. “Three weeks is not enough to transform them,” Erika said, “but I hope they get the concepts early on, so as it comes up again and again, they start to think it’s really possible [to choose peaceful ways to engage conflict].”

Indeed, Ardi saw God at work in the minds and hearts of the children they worked with. “These kids… if you listen to them, you’d be amazed. When they open up and are very vulnerable to you… when I listen to them I think, Wow, God has something to do with these kids, and it’s part of my job to give guidance.”

Philly Praise clearly reached beyond themselves this summer, drawing ten kids from a local daycare and thirty from the neighborhood who are not regular participants in the congregation. These children—from many cultural experiences and some of different faiths—became so attached to one another during Peace Camp that PPC chose to welcome them back for a “reunion” every Friday until August.

And it wasn’t only the children’s faith and imaginations that were being formed. “I think a lot about the purpose of my life,” says Ardi. “What do I really want to do with my life? I had the chance to serve at PPC and got to apply some of what I learned in the Bronx. [During that trip] we realized this life is not about ourselves, but it’s about God and how you build some connection with other people.”

← Previously, Salford Next week, Ripple-Allentown →

2012 Peace Camps: Love on a Local Scale, part 1

August 23, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

by Samantha Lioi, Minister of Peace and Justice

What does Anabaptist witness and ministry look like up-close? When summer comes, for some folks it looks like teaching a second-grader to explore ways he can care for the earth, or giving a 10-year-old creative ways to deal with conflicts she’ll face at school. Congregations from Allentown to Philadelphia have created summer Peace Camps as practical places to live Christ’s transforming love among their neighbors. In some ways, the camps function similarly to traditional Vacation Bible Schools, but with content deeply relevant to the conflicts and crises kids face in our increasingly fragmented culture. Peace Camps can offer space for children to claim their identity as God’s children, to believe they can be active in stirring up hope in their part of the world.

In the next few weeks, Samantha Lioi, Minister of Peace and Justice for Franconia and Eastern District Conferences, will take a look at three conference Peace Camps that are giving space to putting here-and-now flesh and bone on our Anabaptist understandings of Christian faith, beginning with Salford Mennonite Church in Harleysville, Pa., then moving on to Philadelphia Praise Center in South Philly, and finishing with Samantha’s own experience helping to lead the Peace Camp for Ripple Allentown.

Since 2007, Meredith Ehst of Salford has brought her experience in public education to her leadership of the congregation’s summer Peace Camp, a week-long evening program serving children from Kindergarten through fifth grade. This year they welcomed 75 children, their largest camp yet, drawing 46 kids from the area who are not directly connected with the congregation.

The camp was born in 2006 after the community’s Vacation Bible School had lost energy. Mary Jane Hershey, a Salford elder in the realm of peacemaking and justice-building, saw an advertisement for a Peace Camp run by Quakers in nearby Gwynedd. She asked if she could come and observe, and left with copies from their notebooks and eagerness to try it back home.

Each year Salford chooses a theme verse and age-appropriate learning goals for the week. The youngest learn that they are loved by God and created with unique gifts. They learn to accept the differences between themselves and others and celebrate what each person brings through self-portraits.

Second and third-graders are old enough to learn about peace with the earth, touring and working in Salford’s community garden. They create original “ads” that they post on paper grocery bags to encourage the public to make ecologically responsible choices. This portion of the camp is grounded in what the kids already know when they arrive, and they have the chance to build on this and take ownership for making a difference in their community. Meredith laughed remembering that each year, inevitably, this group decides they can go without electric lights, and they spend the rest of the week in a slightly darker classroom!

The oldest children engage a curriculum called Talk It Out, gaining skills for reconciling conflict without resorting to physical force. Everyone spends some time in the classroom, some playing cooperative games, and some sitting down to eat together.

In fact, sitting around tables for dinner is one of the most significant parts of the Peace Camp, says Pastor Joe Hackman, as it provides a practice and space for community that is unusual for some of the children. This ministry is giving birth to possibilities for new forms of witness; this year included an adult portion of Peace Camp and a barbeque for the parents on Friday as part of their closing celebration.

Peace Camp has become a way to spread practical knowledge and skills for peacemaking to people around them – ministering from a place of knowing their neighbor’s needs as well as their own children’s needs. “We always have children with no fixed address,” says Mary Jane. “We send out mailings and some come back.” They are glad to know they are connecting with kids who experience frequent transitions, which can foster feelings of insecurity and deepen the need for an identity as God’s beloved child—and for skills to handle differences and disagreements.

Next week, Philadelphia Praise Center →

Peace

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