party like a Mennonite

Tomorrow I head to the national convention of Mennonite Church USA! I will spend my 4th of July in mediation training, and will serve as an on-call mediator for the rest of the week during the convention. This opportunity is part of my mediation certification through Bluffton, and it could not be a more perfect opportunity for me! Much of my motivation for being certified in mediation has grown out of experiences of church conflict. As I have studied mediation and peacebuilding at Bluffton, I have focused on church conflict transformation in many papers and projects; this week, I will have the chance to put the theory I have learned into practice, which will in turn shape my theory as I move forward. This week continues the cycle of action and reflection that has come to shape my life as I learn to live peace, little by little, day by day.

In addition to serving as a mediator, I will get to take advantage of all that Menno Convention has to offer—worship, speakers, seminars, concerts, times of open dialogue, and all the inner workings of Mennonite Church USA. I am especially eager to get a glimpse into the “political” life of a denomination besides the UMC. I have great respect for MCUSA, so I come to Pittsburgh with much curiosity and many questions—does a peace commitment have any bearing on church politics? Does a commitment to nonviolence create space for dialogue? Or are these values forgotten or abandoned in the midst of controversy? Is this body of believers called MCUSA walking (even crawling, limping) the talk, earnestly striving to embody the radical theology they teach? I think all of my questions can be summed up like this: is the grass any greener on the other side?

Maybe. Or maybe not. Ask me in a week or so.

Till then, I’ll be in Pittsburgh—partying like a Mennonite!

criminal injustice

on prayer

“In prayer a reversal occurs:
we do not talk about God and the world
but begin to see ourselves and the world in God.
We begin to see human life and the world
from the divine perspective,
from a broader and more inclusive point of view
than we are otherwise capable of holding.
We begin to recognize who we are in the scheme of things
from the perspective of the Creator and Redeemer of everything that is.
We are no longer the center (a definition of sin);
we know God is the Center (a definition of salvation).”

-Sallie McFague
(pp. 88-89 in Earth Gospel by Sam Hamilton-Poore)

Reading Reflections: Justpeace Ethics by Jarem Sawatsky

One of my goals this summer is to read. More specifically, I am reading the books that I wanted to read during the school year but did not have the time. The best thing about this project is that the stack of books on my desk all fall into three familiar categories—peace studies, biblical studies, and theology. That the books I choose to read in the summer reflect the disciplines in which I spend the academic year means that I am studying what I love. I am thankful for the opportunity to do just that.

One of the first books I read this summer, which was a quick but worthwhile read, was Justpeace Ethics by Jarem Sawatsky. The title caught my eye, and the book presented a solid ethical framework for peacebuilding. I would like to reflect on two concepts that I found particularly helpful in the book:

1. Ethics as common ground.

Sawatsky argues that “if it is true that common virtues are a potential meeting place for different traditions, then ethics (the dialogue of which guides action) could provide a powerful meeting place for different disciplines or even different religious traditions that are interested in peace and justice work” (12). He points out that while the actions and narratives of groups may be very different, the virtues of the groups often overlap. A good example of this would be two different faith traditions that share a commitment to nonviolence; this shared virtue may be informed by different narratives, and it may lead each tradition to act differently, but the central virtue of nonviolence is at the core of both groups. Building peace on ethical common ground both embraces the particularity of each group and points toward the possibility of a shared future—both of which are necessary for sustainable peace and reconciliation. For this reason, I agree with Sawatsky that ethics has the potential to be a powerful space of common ground in the work of peacebuilding.

2. Responsibility > Guilt.

While this was not one of the central points of the book, I found it to be a significant one. Sawatsky briefly contrasts guilt and responsibility, explaining that “guilt is an inward self-orientation that paralyzes the soul” while “responsibility orients the heart toward the other” (80). Too often, I have experienced efforts for peace and justice that are rooted in guilt rather than responsibility. For example, making the choice to shop more ethically out of a sense of guilt rather than a sense of responsibility. Guilt-motivated decisions are made not out of love for others but out of fear for one’s own feelings. While I have felt this tension in my own life, the life of the church, and beyond, Sawatsky’s reflections on guilt and responsibility helped me articulate the problem with and the alternative to guilt-motivated thinking. Further, his ethical framework pairs responsibility with empowerment, serving as a reminder that true responsibility can only take root when people are empowered to actively participate in the struggle for justice (76). After all, “responsibility without empowerment is like living with a dictator” (84).

On the whole, Justpeace Ethics helped me clarify the virtues that inform the ways in which I think about and act for peace. By naming the virtues that shape the broad and diverse field of peacebuilding, Sawatsky helped me identify many virtues that I did not realize shape my understanding of peace. And perhaps most importantly, I began to understand that by identifying the virtues that inform my identity and work as a peacebuilder, I am unearthing the fertile soil of common ground—the foundation not only of a justpeace ethic, but of justpeace itself.

vocational discernment: the journey continues

Last semester, I had the opportunity to take a course called Peacemaking Seminar as a directed study. One of the objectives of the course was vocational discernment, particularly around my call and identity as a peacebuilder. Not only did I get to spend the semester deeply engaged in questions of discernment and identity, I got to do so alongside one of my professors whose life has been an example for me of what it means to live peace. I was required to keep a journal for the semester, part of which included weekly vocational reflections (my journal from Peacemaking Seminar can be found here). This little journaling project taught me two important lessons about vocational discernment (and about life, but I will stick with the topic at hand):

1. Intentionality is everything.
To look back on my vocational reflections from spring semester is to look back on a collection of experiences of which I could have easily missed the significance. For me, the requirement to reflect weekly on identity and vocation was an invitation to live life ever open to God’s leading. Last semester was an incredible time of discernment precisely because it was an intentional time of discernment.

2. Significance lies in the small things.
Reflecting every week on vocational discernment forced me to find the significance in everyday experiences. Some weeks, there were obvious times of discernment, such as my spring break spent visiting seminaries. However, some weeks were filled with classes and not much else. Such is the life of a college student, but I learned to find significance in the small things. I reflected on lectures, on readings from various classes, and from conversations with friends and professors. Looking back, those experiences are the ones that add texture to the broad strokes of discernment that paint the picture of my life.

Moving forward, I am no longer required to reflect on identity, vocation, or anything else for that matter! However, Peacemaking Seminar was never about a grade or an assignment; it was about who I am and who I am becoming. That work is not over, nor will it ever be. I hope to use this blog to continue the journey of discernment, a journey I believe cannot be walked alone. I hope you will join me!

sophomore year: lessons learned

Nine months. Eleven classes. Hundreds of pages written. Thousands of pages read. Countless hours in the library. Much laughter. More than a few crazy escapades. Many conversations that have challenged how I see the world. A year lived in a community that has changed my life. It’s been another fantastic year at Bluffton.

So what have I learned this year?

1. Treasure the people with whom you share your life.

Relationships are the most important part of life. Period. If this year taught me anything at all, it is that life is about living in the present, loving the people God has placed in your life today, and being open and honest in your relationships. The greatest gift is now—the community, the opportunities, the emotions, the conversations of today. Spend time with the people you care about. Tell people what they mean to you. Cry hard, laugh harder. Be real and be honest. Tomorrow will come, but today is what matters.

2. Do your absolute best.

This year, I worked harder than I knew was possible and learned more than I even realize at this point. Just when I thought I was doing my best, I pushed myself to do more, and it paid off in ways I never could have imagined. I achieved things I did not know I was capable of, and I stand here halfway through college having already exceeded my highest expectations for my undergraduate career. Hard work pays off—I cannot wait to see what the next two years will bring!

3. Peace is a journey.

Last year, I came to believe in the power of nonviolence. This year, I learned that making a commitment to nonviolence is not a one-time event, but the first step of a lifelong journey. Furthermore, I learned that this journey is one that must be lived in and sustained by community. For me, this year has been an important part of my journey toward peace; I am a million miles from perfect, but I am better at embodying peace now than I was in August, and that is the measure of success.

4. Education can change the world.

In the fall, I studied education as a means of social change in my Social Justice & Social Change class. In the spring, I identified education as my primary gift and calling as a peacebuilder in my Theories of Peace & Conflict class. This entire year, I have learned to see education as a form of peacemaking; I believe that my transforming minds, we can transform the world for peace. This is a lesson that has transformed how I experience education and how I understand my identity as a peacebuilder. As I move forward in my education, I do so knowing that by transforming my mind, I am working toward the transformation of the world.

5. Make time for waffles.

To describe this year as academically demanding would be an understatement. I was known on my floor for long days and nights of reading and writing, but this year I also learned how to make time in the midst of academic chaos for things like Waffle House runs, pizza parties, and movies with friends. In the end, the crazy memories with my friends are worth more than that chapter of Karl Barth I read for Theology. After all, I have all summer and the rest of my life so spend time with Barth…my friends don’t fit so well on my bookshelf. So, make time for waffles. Make time for people. Make time for fun.

Criminal Injustice: Collateral Consequences and the Gospel of Reconciliation

A couple weeks ago, I participated in the C. Henry Smith Peace Oratorical Contest at Bluffton University. It was an exciting opportunity to proclaim God's message of grace and reconciliation, and I ended up earning second place! So, for those of you who didn't make it out that night (or for those of you who did), here is the text of my speech:
_____

      This evening, I would like to invite you into an unlikely dialogue— a dialogue between the U.S. criminal justice policy and the biblical text. Specifically, I will focus on the collateral consequences of criminal convictions, which are the laws and policies in place that make reintegration into society nearly impossible after individuals have served prison sentences. Turning to the biblical text, I will examine these laws and policies through the lens of the story of the Prodigal Son in the Gospel of Luke, exposing and dismantling the structural violence in the U.S. criminal justice system. Finally, I will issue a challenge for each and every one of us— to imagine and create a criminal justice system shaped by the narrative of reconciliation found in the biblical text rather than the narrative of violence, injustice, and fear that permeates the world in which we live. As God’s people, the story of the Prodigal Son— a story of abundant grace and reconciliation— is our story; informed by this narrative, we must work for criminal justice reform, calling for a truly just system characterized by reintegration, restoration, and reconciliation.

       First, we must expose the structural violence in the U.S. criminal justice system. While the injustice in the system is extensive, this evening I will focus specifically on the collateral consequences laws. While many people assume that a person’s prison sentence is the extent of their punishment, this is simply not the case; the collateral consequences laws impose life-long punishment over and above time in prison. According to Marc Mauer in the Ohio State Journal of Criminal Law, in addition to their prison sentence, 18-year old first-time drug offenders in many states are denied access to welfare benefits, public housing, and federal loans for college, as well as permanently denied the right to vote (610).

Further, Mauer points out the common practice of denying employment to individuals with even minor previous criminal convictions. With 47 million people having criminal records on file (Mauer 3), these laws and policies impact nearly one in six of the 312 million people currently living in the United States according to the Census Bureau. One in six of our sisters and brothers in the United States left without a job, without access to food and housing, without the hope and opportunity of an education, and even denied the right to vote. One in six of our sisters and brothers trapped in a cycle of poverty, violence, and crime. One in six of our sisters and brothers, shackled for life by invisible chains of injustice that have been locked with our consent, the key thrown away as we have remained complicit to the status quo of the criminal justice system.

With these 47 million people in mind— 47 million real lives, real faces, and real stories— let us turn now to the biblical text. Luke 15 tells the story of the Prodigal Son, the story of a young man who takes his share of his father’s estate, runs away to a distant country, and throws away his resources and the honor of his family in corrupt living. Realizing the mistake he has made, and ashamed of his actions, he chooses to return to his father, hoping to be taken in as a hired hand since he is no longer worthy of the family name. This is the story of a sinner, an offender, a criminal, returning to his community— an experience familiar to many of our sisters and brothers in the criminal justice system.

With them in mind, hear now the story of the return of the Prodigal Son from the Gospel of Luke: “While he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him…the son said… ‘Father, I have sinned against…you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son. But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe— the best one— and put it on him…get the fatted calf and kill it…let us eat and celebrate, for this son of mine was dead and is alive again, he was lost and is found!’” (Luke 15.20-24 NRSV). Tonight, I would like to suggest that the story of the Prodigal Son subverts the status quo of our criminal justice system, exposing and dismantling structures of injustice and oppression and inviting us to imagine and create a system marked by the reconciliation of the sinner, the offender— the Prodigal Son.

When people complete their prison sentences, the U.S. criminal justice policy prevents the story of the Prodigal Son from playing out in our communities. People with previous convictions are denied employment in the U.S., but the biblical narrative goes beyond employment, welcoming the offender not as an employee but as a member of the family, as a son, as a daughter; and not only that, the Prodigal Son is the most treasured family member precisely because he was lost, he did make mistakes, but now he has returned, he is found, he is alive! (Luke 15.24) The father welcoming his son back into his family is an act of abundant grace and reconciliation. Before the son can even get the words out of his mouth, “I am no longer worthy…” (Luke 15.21), the father exclaims, “this is my son!” Here we find no collateral consequences— only collateral compassion and collateral celebration.
        Comparing the U.S. criminal justice policy and the story of the Prodigal Son also leads us to consider issues of scarcity and abundance. While the collateral consequences laws create a world of scarcity in which many people with past criminal convictions are deprived of basic human needs, the story of the Prodigal Son is a narrative of abundance. While the criminal justice system says to those returning to their community, “You don’t deserve anything,” the father in the story of the Prodigal Son says, “Give my beloved son the best we have.” The U.S. criminal justice policy condemns those with previous criminal records, deeming them unworthy of life itself by denying them access to the things they need to survive. But in the story of the Prodigal Son, the father affirms the sacred worth of his child, giving him not only everything he needs, but everything the father has— everything the son does not deserve. That, my friends, is grace— completely unmerited, undeserved free gift.

 You see, this story is not just about criminals— this story is about you and me, ordinary prodigals. This is the story of our journey, our sin, our reconciliation to God, and our call to continue God’s work of reconciliation in the world. We have been prodigal daughters and prodigal sons— we have squandered the free gift of God— and we have been and are being welcomed home into the arms of God, our mother and our father. The fatted calf has been killed, the celebration has begun— this reality of abundant grace and reconciliation is our reality, the reality in which we live and the reality we are called to create.

In closing, let us consider these words from John Howard Yoder’s Body Politics: “Church and world are not…two institutions with contradictory assignments, but two levels of the pertinence of the same Lordship. The church is called to be today what the world is called to be ultimately” (10). This means that the dialogue between the U.S. criminal justice policy and the story of the Prodigal Son is not a debate between two separate, competing realities. The point is not for us to live in the reality of God’s grace and reconciliation and ignore the harsh, unforgiving reality of the world around us. Rather, as God’s people, we are called to engage in the reality of the world, transforming structures of oppression and injustice and creating a world shaped by God’s vision of reconciliation, justice, and peace. As prodigals who have been reconciled by the abundant grace of God, we must call for a criminal justice system shaped by the gospel— the good news— of reconciliation. And along with God, our abundantly merciful mother and father, we are called to celebrate as our prodigal sisters and brothers return home, proclaiming, “This—this is my sister! She was dead, but she is alive again! She was lost, but now she is found!” With these words and this welcome, let the celebration begin!

           

Works Cited

Mauer, Marc. “Collateral Consequences of Criminal Convictions: Barriers to Reentry for the Formerly Incarcerated.” Presented to House Judiciary Subcommittee on Crime, Terrorism, and Homeland Security. 9 June 2010.

Mauer, Marc. “Thinking About Prison and its Impact in the Twenty-First Century.” The Ohio State Journal of Criminal Law 2:607 (2005): 607-618.

"U.S. & World Population Clock." Census Bureau Home Page. Web. 02 Apr. 2011.

Yoder, John Howard. Body Politics. Scottdale, PA: Herald, 2001.

so be it.

I am no longer my own, but yours. 
Put me to what you will, rank me with whom you will;
put me to doing, put me to suffering;
let me be employed for you or laid aside for you,
exalted for you or brought low for you;
let me be full, let me be empty;
let me have all things, let me have nothing;
I freely and wholeheartedly yield all things to your pleasure and disposal. 
And now, glorious and blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
you are mine and I am yours.  So be it. 
And the covenant now made on earth, let it be ratified in heaven. 
Amen.

why hello there week 12.

This semester is flying by. Part of me is excited to get it behind me, but another part of me is sad to see it coming to a close. This has been an intense semester, both inside and outside the classroom. Classes have stretched me more this semester than ever before; they have challenged me academically, but more than that they have challenged the way I understand and relate to the world. I can confidently say that I have learned and grown more this semester than I ever could have imagined, but it definitely hasn’t been easy! And I know that I’ve learned far more than I realize at this point, still in the middle of the hectic push toward the finish line. Outside of classes, life has been quite the rollercoaster this semester. I have hardly had the chance to have a “normal” few weeks without a crisis of some sort, which has made it difficult to concentrate at times. But in spite of it all, on this Monday night of week 12, I am still alive and pressing on. Next week is Thanksgiving Break, followed by weeks 14, 15, and finals. It’s hard to believe we only have two more weeks of classes after this week!

So, besides classes (which are in and of themselves great opportunities), this semester I’ve had some pretty incredible opportunities and experiences. First, I went to a conference called Israel/Palestine: Pathways to Peace, which was a great opportunity to learn more about peacemaking efforts in the Middle East. Then, I went on a silence & solitude retreat for my Spiritual Disciplines class, which turned out to be a lot more enjoyable than I had anticipated! And my last two weekends have been filled with training: first, I went through Module II Hispanic ministry training, so now I am a certified lay missioner for Hispanic ministry in the UMC! And this past weekend I finished my mediation training at Bluffton, which means I can start co-mediating cases for my mediation certification. All of these things have been awesome, but they’ve made for busy weekends (aka no weekends at all)! And this weekend I am headed to GA with PEACE Club for a nonviolent demonstration. Then…home for Thanksgiving!

So, here’s to peace and protests and turkeys and theology and huge papers and friends and everything else that will fill the pages of my life for the next few weeks!



Peace.

Katie :)

it’s a beautiful bluffton life :)

I am in the middle of a crazy semester. Actually, I’m just past the middle…and it’s flying by. It’s hard to believe that sophomore year at Bluffton is 1/4 over…it feels like we just moved back to campus! But time flies when you’re having fun (or in the library…or both), and we’ve definitely been having fun. Here’s some proof:

    
It has been a fantastic year so far. But it has been a deeper form of fantastic than pictures can capture…filled with so much learning, reflecting, discussing, and hoping in a community that never ceases to amaze, surprise, and encourage me.

So…here’s to blogging again. Here’s to reflecting on life’s experiences both inside and outside the classroom that are changing who I am and how I see the world. Here’s to the beautiful Bluffton life! :)

Pray Peace. Make Peace. Live Peace.

Katie :)