A Living Alternative

Anyone familiar with my blog know that I write a great deal about life and service to and with the urban poor. I am a strong advocate for more (though not all) Christians to willingness relocate their lives into inner city neighbourhoods for missional engagement and community. It is something I am extremely passionate about, even in the midst of my own inability to "do it" well myself.

An unfortunate result of my writing has been that some feel guilted or judged by my words. While I always intend to challenge and stretch, it has never been my intention to make people feel guilty. Guilt is a poor motivator, undermining the very nature of what it means to be missional. If you are among those who have felt the sting from my words, I apologize and hope you can forgive me. While I do not want to make any excuses, I do want to try and provide some clarity as to why I am so passionate about these themes. As this passion is born out of an ongoing pilgrimage, I may not have the clearest answers for you, but I hope this will help you understand my heart a bit better.

Growing up, I had the rare (and largely accidental) privilege of being exposed to a variety of Christian traditions: I attended an Evangelical church, went to a Pentecostal youth group, was a student at a largely Mennonite school and attended Roman Catholic Mass with my grandmother every month or so. As a result, my early spiritual formation was shaped by the differences in these traditions. For example, while my church centered our faith primarily around Scripture and evangelism, my grandmothers Catholic community centered around the cross in the Mass, specifically the Eucharist. My youth group was primarily shaped by the pursuit and celebration of the Holy Spirit to do the work of sanctification and empower us for Christ's purposes.

However, looking back, it was the simplicity of the Mennonite/Anabaptist tradition that seems to have left the most lasting impact on my faith. There was a simple, yet profound way in which their faith was shaped by the cross in respect to the lives of the disciples. Their commitment to pursue lifestyles that reflected the teachings and example of Christ was not limited to morality or "ministry", but touched even the so called "mundane" aspects of life: how they lived, worked, engaged culture, spent their money, etc. They were far from perfect, but their example started me on a journey, playing a big role as to where I stand today.

When we understand the history of the Anabaptist movement, it is not surprising that suffering has been a part of their identity as Christians. From this, they have been able to better identify with the prophetic thread through the Old and New Testaments, culminating in identification with and participation in the suffering of Christ. Suffering seems to be a central "proof" of the authenticity of a community's faith in God. Suffering was not accidental or incidental to being a Christian, but a natural part of the movement of God through history. It is not surprise, then, that the tradition boasts many martyrs.

This suffering is both internal and external. It is internal as we struggle against our greed, lust and dependence, towards a liberation through Christ into His Body. It is also external, in both the manifestation of our internal choices and the resulting persecution from the power of the world that opposes our liberation. Both are participatory movements, not simply done out of obedience, but done alongside and with Christ Himself. From this we can why Anabaptist theology differed from Catholic and Protestant norms in respect to the centrality of works as inseparable to true faith. In this way, while we do not earn salvation with works or pay for sin through our suffering, we must participate in the suffering of Christ as an essential element of our liberation from sin.

When I decided to live and serve among the urban poor, I knew it would be a costly decision. I was not motivated by an evangelical zeal (though that certainly in important), nor was I motivated by a paternalistic pity. Rather, I was convinced that by identification with the poor and suffering, even if only in small part, I would participate in the suffering of Christ. It was a reflection of my own need for continuing transformation, discovered alongside those I was called to love and serve (thus my love of the Lilla Watson quote I posted here).

I am still learning to understand the place of suffering within Christian life. While I do not throw myself in sufferings way for it's own sake, neither can I follow the pattern of the world that teaches not only the avoidance of suffering, but the primary value of pleasure and comfort. While an imperfect parallel (as it could be used to further paternalism), I draw from the example of my brother who is a fireman. He does not go looking for danger for it's own sake (which would only result in him being a pyromaniac), but puts himself in harms way to serve the greater good of the community and those at risk.

One of the weaknesses I saw in the Mennonite community in which I grew up was that this way of life seemed to produce largely stern and grim-faced believers. They wore their suffering as a joyless badge. While I am generalizing, this trend reflects a real danger for people who intentionally embrace the suffering of Christ (and also those engaged deeply in any issues of justice)- that we can fail to keep the joy and hope of the Lord alive in our hearts and lives. I have come across literally hundreds of Mennonite youth leaving their tradition for charismatic/evangelical expressions almost entirely on the merits of this problem.

It is here that the example of St. Francis has come to be so important. Francis embraced self-denial and suffering with Christ in extraordinary ways. While he was dangerously excessive at times, it is his motivation that sets him apart from others in most of the Christian traditions. Francis, shaped by the troubadours and courtly love culture of his day, pursued suffering- not out of self-mortification or discipline- but as an extravagant display of passionate love for God and neighbour. I want my life and service to (and with) the poor to be the result of an overflowing passion for Christ and others.

Before I allow this post to get any longer, I will stop here. I hope this helps you understand a bit better where I am coming from. I have by no means arrived and therefore am less than qualified to inspire guilt. I'd love to hear your feedback.

Peace.

Missional Missional+Community Christianity Mennonite Anabaptism