Mennonites: The OG Anti-Racist Heroes

Three hundred and thirty seven years ago this week (1683, in case that math takes too long) the first Mennonites arrived in what's now the United States and founded Germantown - now a neighborhood in Philadelphia. After sharing a meal with the local indigenous people (probably Lenape) Francis Daniel Pastorius, a German Mennonite lawyer and teacher wrote, "they have never in their lives heard the teaching of Jesus concerning temperance and contentment, yet they far excel the Christians in carrying it out.”

Anniversaries are natural times to tell stories. We use birthdays to tell our children about when they were born, wedding anniversaries to tell the stories of meeting and getting married, the anniversary of our church to tell stories of its founding and its first families. For some of us white folks, though, telling our immigration stories has become a little cringe-y. Our histories include colonization, enslavement of other humans, intentional and internalized bias based on white supremacist notions. So, when I read the quote above on the Salt Project's Theologian's Almanac, and shortly afterward the following quote about those first Mennonites in Jason Reynolds YA book Stamped: Racism, Anti-Racism and You, (a "remix" of Ibram X. Kendi's Stamped from the Beginning) I was psyched!

Mennonites didn't want to leave behind one place of oppression to build another in America, so they circulated an antislavery petition on April, 1688, denouncing oppression due to skin color by equating it with oppression due to religion. Both oppressions were wrong. This petition - the 1688 Germantown Petition Against Slavery - was the first piece of writing that was antiracist among European settlers in colonial America.

Yes! Mennonites, recognized as the OG anti-racists! And they did it based on the teaching of Jesus. Patting myself on the back over here for coming from such enlightened and woke white folks. Well, sort of. My own Mennonite ancestors immigrated to Canada in the late 19th century also fleeing oppression in southern Russia, also seeking religious freedom and opportunity to thrive in a new environment. And, of course, using the advantages of whiteness to cheaply purchase land that had been stolen from indigenous people.

The theme this month for children's and youth spiritual formation is "Making Sense of Our Stories" and our stories are complicated. When we're building our storytelling repertoire, it's really important to be able to understand our story from all perspectives, so that we don't repeat mistakes of oppression and injustice - and so that we can participate in repair. Authors like Jennifer Harvey and Anastasia Higginbotham, who write about talking with white kids about race, talk about the importance for developing a white identity that's grounded in more than just stories of hate, destruction and oppression. We also need to find stories of ancestors and heroes (Mennonite and otherwise) who were active in interrupting patterns of oppressions like racism and white supremacy. Those are stories we can embrace and seek to identify with.

Reynolds writes about the history of race and racial inequity in Stamped but he's insistent that it isn't a history book. "This book, this not history history book, this present book, is meant to take you on a race journey from then to now, to show why we feel how we feel, why we live how we live, and why this poison, whether recognizable or unrecognizable, whether it's a scream or a whisper, just won't go away." And then he tells stories - stories of wrongness and stories of people getting in the way of that wrong.

All that to say: tell your stories. Look for the stories that are hidden and find out why. Look for the stories that haven't been told and tell them. Look at the stories of the country and community and think about where and how your people intersected with them. Amplify the stories of justice and learn from them. And may we be the ancestors whose stories our children will tell with pride.

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A final note, speaking of stories, here are a couple book related links I've come across recently. Of course, everyone should read Stamped and everything else that Jason Reynolds has written. And that Ibram X. Kendi has written (I'm still working on that myself.) Also, UW Bookstore has created anti-racist book kits for kids and adults of all ages. And The Conscious Kid has a reading list for kids from 0-18 on confronting anti-blackness and on how to support conversations on race, antiracism and resistance.
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image: Thones Kunder's house, 5109 Germantown Avenue, Philadelphia PA, where the 688 Petition Against Slavery was written

Between Voting and Veteran's Day

This coming Sunday is Veteran’s Day. For students in some schools it’s reason for military assemblies and recruitment. For many working folks, it’s a day off, intended to honor and recognized the lives of military veterans and courageous acts in wartime. But this is also the 100th anniversary of Armistice Day, from which Veteran’s Day was born. The intention of the original Armistice Day was literally a laying down of arms; remembering the cost of war and violence and working toward a peaceful future.

I shake my head to think of where the world - and especially the United States - has come since that armistice treaty and its commitment to work peaceably with neighbors worldwide. That first world war was, of course, not the war to end all wars. The United States has become the dominant global military power and the proportion of military spending in this country equals half its discretionary budget.

Having just come through another election in the US, it seems to me that progressives - including Christians, including peace-loving and justice-seeking Mennonites who would favor a reclaiming of the non-violent message of armistice - lean heavily into the idea that a vote equals a voice. Through our votes, the idea goes, we can make change and begin to align our Christian ideals with the society we live in. I did not vote in this election. Most folks know after this many years of ministry that I can’t vote because I am not (yet) a citizen. Does that mean that I don’t have a voice?

I am glad that this election is over if for no other reason than I will no longer have to see in all my social media feeds and in advertising the urge to vote, Vote, VOTE!! While I wouldn’t say it’s painful, I would say it’s a little irritating. People are not voting for many reasons. A few by choice or religious conviction - as our Anabaptist ancestors had - that our allegiance is to Christ alone (more about this in Pastor Megan’s most recent sermon). A few from disgust or apathy. But many people who would like to vote are disenfranchised, because like me they are immigrants. Because they are in jail or have committed a felony. Because of unreasonable voting requirements that amount to voter suppression.

Folks, I’m glad that those of you who could vote did. Theologian and leader Drew Hart, who identifies as an ‘Anablacktivist’ tweeted this on election day, “Voting won't usher shalom into the world, but it can curb the injustice & limit the dominance of powerful people seeking to harm the least and last of society. That's why I vote, and then continue the hard work 365 days of the year.” So I am celebrating the strides forward in representation made by women, people of color, including indigenous folk, LGBTQ representatives and leaders. And I don’t assume that just because I didn’t vote I don’t have a voice to raise for the sake of peace, for the sake of shalom building this Veteran’s Day and beyond.

For the Love of Camp

Camp Shekinah, approx 1989

When I was a child, my Mennonite camp was called Camp Shekinah. It’s in the valley cut out of the prairie by North Saskatchewan river, which in some summers a trickle and some summers floods the banks as far as the lodge, but most summers is somewhere in between. Which always provides ample breeding ground for mosquitoes. It's the camp where I learned to canoe, tie knots, use a compass and build an excellent log-cabin or a-frame fire. It's also where I re-enacted the Exodus, learned the definition of the word 'statutes' (it's not the same as statues), had a counselor talk to me about why he got baptized and where I began to understand that following Jesus would be my choice too.

I loved camp. I could not wait to say goodbye to my parents and find the friends that I'd made the year before. I felt like I belonged there in a way that I didn't experience in other parts of my life and it fed my soul. That is the experience I long for every child to have when they go to camp. I see it now at Camp Camrec when I go as a staff person. The space might be different, but the essence is remarkably similar: the beauty of creation all around, children and youth invited into the work of God in the world, the joy of connecting with caring community, songs and stories and worship around the campfire.

My childhood camp isn't the 'Camp Shekinah' of the canvas tents and mud trails anymore. It's Shekinah Retreat Centre whose facilities have grown (past the flood line) and whose program is year-round. I've visited a few times in recent years and because my cousin was the program manager I even got to experience the new zip line. But the kids that I observed who were there as campers were still having essentially the same experience that I had, that kids at Mennonite camps all over the continent are having - a fun, meaningful, holy time of learning and connection.

I'm looking forward to being at camp again this summer with the older youth. I hope your families too will take advantage of the opportunities it offers. Registration is open.  :)