“Enough
to Go Around”
by
Eric Massanari
“We
are all standing in a river of Christ,
and
we are being carried along by currents we cannot comprehend.”
Those
struck me as very wise and timely words when I heard them spoken a few weeks
ago by a former Mennonite, and now Catholic, Ivan Kauffman. Ivan was speaking
to a group of sixty of us (roughly half Mennonites and half Catholics) who had
gathered for discussions on peacemaking and spirituality at St. John’s Abbey
in Collegeville, Minnesota. We are all standing in a river of Christ,
and we are being carried along by currents we cannot comprehend.
They
were appropriate words to begin our time together because we soon realized that
although many different life experiences (or, “currents”) had brought us to
that place, we could find a common place on which to stand because of our
common faith in Christ.
Ivan’s
words would have been appropriate many centuries earlier to describe another
gathering that took place in the presence of Christ. The thousands (probably at least 10,000, if there were “5,000
men” as the text states) who gathered around Jesus that day would have been
unfamiliar with distinctions like “Catholic” and “Mennonite,” but they would
have known very well distinctions such as “Jew” and “Gentile,” “rich” and
“poor,” “powerful” and “powerless.” Such barriers were likely getting blurred a
bit within the large crowd.
As
far as we know from the six different versions of this story found in
the four gospels of the New Testament, Jesus never attempted to sort folks out
in that crowd, determining some as more worthy of his teachings and gifts of
food than others. They were all welcomed together, and they all received
together from the abundance that was present there.
The
story, as it is found here in Matthew’s Gospel, is one that speaks of Jesus
responding to a very real human need - the need for food. But, it is also a
story that the gospel writer uses to point us to the bigger picture of the
gospel, reminding us that in Christ there is enough to go around . . .
There
is enough bread and fish to satisfy the hunger of multitudes,
there
is enough compassion to overcome people’s animosities
there
is enough mercy to welcome those who perceive their own sin,
there
is enough strength and power to bring peace to the world,
there
is enough love to transform human hearts and minds.
Given
the context of this ancient story of Jesus feeding the multitude, perhaps Ivan
Kauffman’s statement could be modified a bit, to something like: We are all part of a multitude,
receiving of the abundance that is Christ, and not only is there enough to go
around, there is plenty for us to share with one another.
To
a significant degree, this abundance we are given and asked to share comes out
of our past . . .
Throughout
our history, we Christians have often behaved as if Christ were some sort of
limited commodity that had to be carefully controlled and apportioned by proper
ministrations and authorities. It didn’t take long after Jesus’ death for those
who gathered in his name to begin fracturing in his name and branding those who
were different as “heretics,” or, to use a term that was quite popular for some
time, anathema (or, “cursed”) in relation to the body of Christ.
Three
weeks ago, as our group of Mennonites and Catholics shared with one another, we
could not help but be reminded of this fractured history within the body of
Christ.
Yet,
at the same time we were reminded that somehow, out of this brokenness, some
important aspects of Christ’s gospel have been allowed to flourish in our
different traditions, and that there is much to be learned from our
differences.
Among
the Catholic participants, it was acknowledged that there was much to learn
from the Mennonite understanding of “discipleship” and the way we not only take
peacemaking seriously but understand it as a confessional part of our
faith. Mennonites at the meeting shared that it has been challenging for us to
leap over the hurdle of the 16th century, and recognize that the
first fifteen hundred years of the Christian faith are part of the history of
our own faith. It has taken time for contemporary Mennonites to understand that
too much may have been cast aside following the Reformation years in an effort
to avoid all things “popish” and “monkish” (derogatory terms sometimes used by
Anabaptists). A number of us related that we have found our own faith enriched
by Catholic traditions of contemplative prayer and spiritual formation, and
that such practices have helped us reflect intentionally on the role of prayer in
peacemaking.
The
conversations in Collegeville reminded me that as Christians try to build
bridges with one another it is important for us to look to the past and find
there the truth that we are all part of a multitude, receiving of the
abundance that is Christ, and not only is there enough to go around, there is
plenty for us to share.
I
was also reminded in those conversations that signs of this abundance are to be
found as we look at the body of Christ in the present . . .
At
present the Catholic Church remains the largest, and the Mennonite Church one
of the smallest, of Christian denominations in our world. And though our
bridge-building is meaningful and significant, it is also important for us to
understand that our two denominations are part of a steadily changing faith
tradition in which denominational ties may hold less and less significance.
A
recent Christian Century article reports, perhaps not surprisingly, that
the fastest growing portion of the church right now is in the southern hemisphere
of the globe, and much of this growth is taking shape within new and
independent churches. The worship style of these burgeoning churches can, in
most cases, be characterized as charismatic and Pentecostal.
Given
such changes, it is likely that at some future point our Western model of
structuring the church will be something of an oddity and a minority within the
broader scope of the worldwide body of Christ.
Are
we prepared for such changes? Are we
willing and able to work at building bridges with these emerging forms of
Christianity? Before we answer “yes”
too quickly, we Western Christians (particularly we white Western
Christians) have to face-up to some well-ingrained racism and cultural
stereotypes. Christians in Europe and North America, including Mennonites, have
often dismissed emerging Asian and African theologies as too “syncretistic” for
the particular ways they have acculturated the Christian faith.
Lamin
Sanneh, a missiologist and church historian who teaches at Yale Divinity School,
makes the important observation that “syncretism is the term we use for the
religion of those we do not like. No one calls himself or herself a
syncretist!”
But
of course we are, ourselves, syncretists. Our own Christian faith is heavily
acculturated within our North American culture. And we will begin to see this
and understand this more as we work harder at building bridges and sharing
hospitality with others in this world who are following Christ in ways that
look very different from our own.
As
we look around us at the body of Christ in the present, we see that we
are all part of a multitude, receiving of the abundance that is Christ, and not
only is there enough to go around, there is plenty for us to share with one
another.
Connecting
with, sharing with, and receiving from our brothers and sisters in Christ in
our modern world is not simply a good idea – it is an imperative as we
move together out of a storied past, through our very diverse present, and into
an uncertain future. Ecumenical dialog, witness, and action are not optional,
they are necessary.
It
is difficult for me to find a better example for why bridge-building within the
body of Christ is so necessary than the following story that Laverne Rutschman,
a member of our congregation, passed along to me this week. I’ll close by
sharing it briefly with you.
Not
long ago, on July 20th, a group of about 80 women and men gathered
near the Plaza de Bolivar in Bogota, on the occasion of Colombian Independence
Day.
Many
of these were Christians of various stripes and flavors who have been united
through the work of two ecumenical peace groups in Colombia, Justapaz
and the Conscientious Objection Collective. They were gathered there
near the seat of power of the Colombian national government to remind their
country’s leaders of the need for peace in a land that is being torn apart by
rampant violence.
The
participants held candles, sang songs and read litanies of peace. Also read
aloud were messages of solidarity sent by North American churches, including
this one sent by Boston Mennonite Fellowship:
On
this Colombian Independence Day, we stand with you in spirit as you remind each
other and all who will listen, that peace comes through peacemaking, not
warmaking. We long with you for the day
when you, we, and all people everywhere will live together in peace instead of
war, with joyful anticipation instead of fear, with bellies satisfied instead
of hungry or overstuffed, and nurturing instead of plundering the earth. May you be richly blessed for your creative
and courageous efforts toward this peace.
Janna
Bowman, a North American Mennonite who was present at the gathering, recounts
that as those words were read tension began to mount in the square as more
security forces arrived along with riot tanks equipped with water cannons.
Peter Stuckey, pastor and President of the Colombian Mennonite Church, got up
on the podium and began to speak. As he did so a number of riot police marched
up to him and created a barrier between him and the rest of the crowd. Peter
asked the police to refrain from using violence on the peaceful demonstrators,
and then he continued with his speech, asking the new Colombian administration
and congress to govern in obedience to Jesus’ teachings of reconciliation,
nonviolence, and love. In her email, Janna Bowman, recalls how quiet it was as
he spoke and how, when he was finished they closed the gathering by singing the
Prayer of St. Francis.
Then,
at the very end, came a very unexpected moment. Leticia, Peter Stuckey’s wife,
walked up to the nearest riot policeman who, like the others, stood armed and
poised to strike out, and she rested her hand on him. To the surprise of those
watching, he returned her gesture, and then he whispered to her, “May God bless
you.”
Such
a moment is a profound reminder that we all continue to be a part of a
multitude, receiving of the abundance that is Christ, and not only is there
enough to go around, there is plenty for us to share with one another.
May
we do this with the help of God, the love of Christ, and the inspiration of the
Holy Spirit, AMEN.