What if there’s snow on the road? How can we find our way?

Our paths over the past 2 years haven’t been as clearly marked as we would have liked. The pandemic introduced enough changes that it felt like we were losing our way. Apart from the obvious issues associated with health and disease, there were also concerns of financial distress, social distress, disconnection, and religious freedom. Fortunately things haven’t been as bad as predicted in those areas. But it has caused us to reflect a lot on where we are going — especially in the church. It reminded me a little of driving.

Eva and I have spent the last two years in Canada. We had initially planned only 3 months but … COVID-19. While in Canada we got the chance to be reacquainted with Canadian weather; or more specifically driving in Canadian weather. We saw it all, from burning hot days with nothing but dust to blinding snowstorms. It reminded me of real life. The past 23 months have certainly been interesting, and I expect that things haven’t entirely returned to normal just yet. Who knows how many more months of uncertainty there are?

When driving, the goal is to stay on the road but sometimes that isn’t as easy as we think it might be. Here are some examples:

Some roads are clearly marked with nice lines, they are paved, they are dry, it’s daytime, and the sun is shining when you are driving. There is nothing better than this. We often have days like this, don’t we? We are in the groove and everything seems to be going all right.

Sometimes there is snow on the road. But even if this is the case, when the road is plowed you can still drive between the lines with some changes. Instead of two lanes, only one is available. Instead of being able to travel at normal speeds, snow and ice force us to slow down. But we keep on driving.

When the road isn’t plowed you hope there is someone who has already gone down it so you know generally where you need to go too. You will also need to use a technique my Dad called, “Driving by the seat of your pants.” This means that we drive more by feel than by sight. We can even say, “Walk by faith and not by sight.” But we keep on driving, cautiously.

Sometimes the weather takes over and makes things extremely difficult. When you are driving in freezing rain you need to use all your resources. Turn the heat up full blast on the defroster. Use the wipers and fluid constantly. Stop every now and then and clear the windshield. Open the side window to know where you need to turn. But we keep on driving, slowly and cautiously.

Sometimes you can’t even see the world around you. When the snow is still falling, and blowing, and you can’t see more than 3 metres in front of you, and you spend each moment in fear wondering if you are going to hit the ditch, or worse, drive off a cliff in the mountains, you need to rely on your wits in order to make it. Have you driven the road before? Does the GPS tell you where the curves are? Can you see anyone’s tail lights ahead? But we keep on driving, foolishly.

This is perhaps how many felt when the pandemic began because the pandemic affected the roads that the church normally drives down. Eva and I arrived in Canada on a Monday, with great plans to visit friends and churches from Port Alberni to Thunder Bay. By Thursday of that same week all of those plans went out the window because of the implementation of anti-COVID-19 measures. All of a sudden we were doing church by the seat of our pants. It was quite the ride. We all became experts at new things: Zoom, preaching to a camera, uploading videos to Vimeo, livestreaming, building community in new ways. It was weird. It was uncomfortable. But somehow it worked.

We did manage to visit friends and churches — in fact we spoke in more churches than we could have if we can been in person. The ministry of the South East Asian Theological Schools boomed with more classes and students from around the world. We connected with lots of people on Zoom. We even celebrated a significant birthday with nothing more than a computer, some videos, and and internet connection. We kept on driving — and so did you!

We know this because we have talked to many of you. We discussed plans for how to do church in a pandemic. We debated on Facebook about the proper approaches we needed to take. We chatted on Zoom about the future of the church. We even taught classes about what to do next. We used all the resources available to us: Theology, church history, Biblical studies, Christian fellowship, meetings, conversations, books, blog posts, videos, and sermons. Even though the road was treacherous at times, we now appear to be coming out of it (I hope). And guess what? The church is still here. People are still committed. Hope continues to be renewed. The mission continues. And we have lots of new understanding and tools to use for the future.

God is good!

How has it been for you? What kind of “driving” have you been doing lately and how have the roads been? How has your church been made stronger because of the trials of the past 2 years?

Feedback is always welcome. Please use the comment box below.

Remember sharing is what friends do.

Image is mine.

What can my great-grandfather, Gerhard J. Fast, teach us about living out our convictions in the face of opposition?

Gerhard & Katarina Fast on their wedding day.

There has been a lot of talk of late about how people can live out their convictions in the face of government opposition. My great grandfather, Gerhard Johann Fast (1888-1974), lived quite an interesting life and on more than one occasion was confronted with what to do in the face of government opposition. Gerhard was a Mennonite who was born and raised in present-day Ukraine. The Mennonites have a long history of migration due to conflicts with the government. Beginning in the Netherlands, they initially moved to Prussia and then on to the Ukraine partly because as pacifists they refused to join the military. But they came to a mutual understanding with the various governments they interacted with.

For example, when Gerhard was still single he served as an NCO in the Anatol Forestry Camp for three years. The Mennonites developed, managed, and partially funded a series of Forestry Camps throughout the South Russia that served as the compulsory service for Mennonites instead of military service. The trees that Gerhard planted can still be seen today in central Ukraine!

After Gerhard’s marriage to Katharina (1888-1966), WWI began and he went off to serve in the medical corps of the Russian army, another form of alternative compulsory service. After the Russian Revolution, their communities were confronted with lawlessness and economic persecution that ultimately led them to migrate to Canada with their family.

What lessons can we learn?

First of all, convictions are important but it’s also important to know where your boundaries are. Gerhard was opposed to participating in the military but was not opposed to serving his country. So he found two different ways to serve his country.

Secondly, when faced with persecution it’s always best to continue to dialogue — who knows? You might come up with a mutually beneficial solution.

Finally, sometimes a new normal is a big change. Gerhard and Katharina started out as well-to-do farmers who lived on an estate. They ended up living a very different life in a place 7700 km away. But that new life didn’t take away their deep faith in God nor their deep love for one another.

What advice do you have for living out your convictions in the face of opposition? Please leave your story in the comments section below.

Remember, sharing is what friends do.

This post first appeared on my personal Facebook page in 2021.

What four myths do I need to consider when talking about deconstruction & how can I counteract them in my own process of deconstruction?

Deconstruction has been in the news of late — especially in the news surrounding Christian theology and practice. Christians, dissatisfied with the way things are going, have been pushing back against the status quo. And with good cause. For example, in just in the past year we have seen pushback against:

  • The usefulness of borrowed theologies to the church.
  • The Canadian Indian Residential School System and the church.
  • Gender and the church.
  • Race and ethnicity and the church.

So what’s the big deal? Why deconstruction?

Deconstruction is a push back against the idea that there is one standard interpretation of meaning in the world. According to the Oxford Dictionary of English, “Deconstruction focuses on a text as such rather than as an expression of the author’s intention, stressing the limitlessness (or impossibility) of interpretation and rejecting the Western philosophical tradition of seeking certainty through reasoning by privileging certain types of interpretation and repressing others. It was effectively named and popularized by the French philosopher Jacques Derrida from the late 1960s and taken up particularly by US literary critics.”

For example, I grew up in the era when martial arts didn’t exist. What we had was the karate chop. As time progressed, and as our knowledge grew, we came to understand that the term karate chop was problematic. First of all, karate is only one of many martial arts, each with their own methods and systems. Second, chop is only one of many martial arts moves. In fact today karate chops seem to be limited to striking boards with the side of one’s hand. They have also lost much of their coolness factor — I challenge you to find a karate chop in a Marvel movie! The meaning system of karate chop has been deconstructed from its dominant place and been relegated to one small part of the larger category of martial arts.

Deconstruction is a necessary process but it is challenging because it deals with the very basic definitions of “meaning.” Those raised with a concept of Absolute Truth find it hard to separate Absolute Truth from the truths that I believe at any given time. [For more of my thoughts on truth, see my posts, herehereherehere, and here]. For example, it is Absolutely True that the karate chop is a thing. There are many experts in the technique in the world today. However, what isn’t absolutely true is that the karate chop universally identifies all forms of martial arts today. The term has been replaced with Martial Arts.

I should also point out that it is important to not simply deconstruct — one also needs to construct a new system that is more reflective of the basic realities of the world. Granted this has been a rather simple explanation of a very complex topic. If you want to understand it more you will need to read Derrida for yourself. However, I do believe that there are four myths, or false assumptions, that we need to be aware of when we engage in deconstruction. Without understanding these myths we won’t be very effective in our deconstruction-reconstruction process.

The myth of the noble savage.

There is an idea that pre-civilisation was an idyllic time of peace, joy, and happiness that was subsequently destroyed by the arrival of various civilising forces. The noble savage represents the people unsullied by civilisation and is often the person that we wish we were and that we sometimes deconstruct to become. Of course, we can’t deny that colonialism has wreaked havoc on the world but to say that pre-colonial cultures were perfect is also an error.

Often our ideas of deconstruction want us to return to this idyllic time of peace, joy, and happiness. How can I counteract this myth when I deconstruct? Rather than assume that all new things are bad and all old things are good, it might be better to find culturally appropriate ways to deal with all these bad things so that our new, reconstructed world, is a better place. Even though both pre- and post-colonial times are problematic, deconstruction seeks to find indigenous solutions to the problems.

The myth of the tabula rasa.

Tabula rasa means simply, “clean slate” and is the belief that all people are born as blanks that are slowly filled up over a lifetime.

Theologically speaking the only true tabula rasas were Adam and Eve, who had original righteousness. Once they began their slavery to sin — a condition that now affects the entire human race — their slates were no longer blank.

What we often also miss in this is that while we may be born blank, the influences around us are by no means blank. We are socialised and enculturated using specific systems, languages, structures, and processes that may or may not vary from other systems, languages, structures, and processes in the world. One key aspect to military training is battle school that is designed specifically to extract a person from as many of these influences as possible and reshape them into soldiers.

Often our ideas of deconstruction want us to return to an existence where all influences are removed and a whole new set of influences are written. How can I counteract this myth when I deconstruct? We often wish that we were blank slates. I myself have said many times that I wished I was able to read the Bible for the first time again. The reality is that we are not blank slates and no amount of hoping will change that. Rather we can embrace our previous experiences and seek ways of writing into the margins of what we have already done.

The myth of cultural purity.

No one is an island and no culture exists in isolation. All are impacted by cultural hybridity.

I remember when our class on Philippine Society and Culture at the University of the Philippines read Alvina and Madulid’s Flora Filipina: From Acapulco to Manila that talked about how Spanish trade introduced many botanical species that are popularly considered native to the Philippines. This is called the Columbian Exchange. Alfred W. Crosby coined the term and defined it this way,

“In 1491, the world was in many of its aspects and characteristics a minimum of two worlds—the New World, of the Americas, and the Old World, consisting of Eurasia and Africa. Columbus brought them together, and almost immediately and continually ever since, we have had an exchange of native plants, animals and diseases moving back and forth across the oceans between the two worlds. A great deal of the economic, social, political history of the world is involved in the exchange of living organisms between the two worlds.”

On a more local scale, the church is not merely a bunch of individuals who share some common beliefs. The church is a community — a body, a building, a vine, a nation, a people — that shares life, work, and wonder. That’s why none of what the church does is to be done in isolation — we need the input of others in our theologising.

How can I counteract this myth when I deconstruct? Rather than trying to remove all outside influences, it might be better to embrace cultural hybridity by engaging others to find new perspectives, new ideas, new world views, and new paradigms that will help us to see things in a more complete and complex way. For example, if my own experience with Jesus is framed around guilt-innocence then dialogue with those who have an honour-shame or power-fear framework would help me to see that salvation is a much more complete and complex thing.

It’s also important to point out that this is a two-way street because both parties in the exchange are impacted.

The myth of cultural essentialism.

Cultural essentialism is the belief that cultures must contain certain essential characteristics. A simple example would be, “Americans are rude and Canadians are polite.” The problem that neither of these statements is entirely accurate — there are many polite Americans and many rude Canadians. Furthermore, there is no law that says that in order to identify as an American I need to be rude, or to identify as a Canadian I need to be polite.

Essentialism a form of generalisation that doesn’t take into account the differences that exist within cultures and seeks to smooth them out into some kind of manufactured, easily defined, timeless reality that isn’t really real. Reality is more nuanced than that. The example of Americans and Canadians above also doesn’t take into account a vast range of other factors that can’t merely be smoothed over, including but not limited to, gender, socio-economic position, race and ethnicity, geographical location, and political bent.

I should point out here that the oft-mentioned idea of “colonial mentality” is related to this. The term is used in a pejorative way to indicate those who don’t think in an appropriately indigenous way (which is also used often in a pejorative way).

How can I counteract this myth when I deconstruct? The simplest way is to find ways of looking through Other’s eyes. For me, a middle-aged white male, that would mean developing relationships with people different than I. The Bible’s meaning may be clear to me but is that only a false clarity? Is there another perspective I need to see?

These are some of my initial thoughts on deconstruction so I am sure that I have missed something. What do you think? Is there another myth we can add to this list?

Your voice is important to me. That’s why commenting is open on this post. Please let me know what you think below.

Sharing is what friends do.

Image by alleksana on Pexels.