Vol I, No II
Minneapolis, MN
October 1, 2013
THE CHRIST ROOMS PROJECT In modern America, Christians have largely outsourced a practice that should still inform our way of life together. In the midst of the Great Depression, Dorothy Day, cofounder of the Catholic Worker movement, urged faithful households to recover the lost practice of hospitality by maintaining “Christ rooms” where those in need may come, find rest, and be refreshed. She believed that ”every home should have a Christ room in it so that hospitality may be practiced.” We live in a time of deep inhospitality and economic uncertainty. Hundreds of children, women, and men need housing in a safe and loving environment. Shelters are rarely loving and seldom safe.
Image by Rita Corbin.
Due to limited space, we often turn folks away. Often, they’d be left to go to a shelter. Shelters are a better alternative for most folks than sleeping out on the streets, but are often places lacking warmth and care. They can also be places of violence and easy access to drugs. And so we've asked a few friends to take guests from time to time when we’re full. However, there is always more need than it is within our capacity to meet. The Christ Rooms Project is our attempt to create greater capacity for loving hospitality in the Twin Cities, while at the same time, helping revive the life -giving practice of hospitality in area churches. Throughout Christian history, hospitality—welcoming the stranger—has been a central practice of the Church —and it still is in much of the world.
The Mennonite Worker 2717 South 8th Street Minneapolis, MN 55454
Therefore, we are urging Christians to remember the practice of hospitality. A weakened economy, continued job losses, and falling home values continue to push an increasing number of families out onto the streets. People who have never experienced homelessness are ending up at shelters and are finding themselves lost in a confusing network of agencies and organizations as they struggle to get back on their feet. So what are we, the Church, to do about it? Our first of many responses should be to practice hospitality–to welcome those who have recently lost their homes into our homes until they are able to gain access to the support and services they need to be back on their feet. This is our opportunity for us to be show Christ to the world. The Christ Rooms Project—a ministry of the Mennonite Worker—exists to foster and support a network of hospitality rooms throughout the Twin Cities for those who are facing homeless through eviction, foreclosure, or economic hardship.
Offering hospitality to strangers can be intimidating. And while not everyone is ready and willing to open their guest room to someone off the street, we believe that everyone can take a step; everyone can move towards deeper hospitality. Perhaps you are part of a church of 80 people. Maybe four households have guest rooms. Maybe several members can prepare extra food and host a larger meal once a week. Maybe someone in the church can volunteer time driving some folks to important appointments. By working together, a small congregation can provide hospitality where there was none. What might cost an impersonal system thousands of dollars per person per year, a church may be able to offer with loving grace. If you are a part of a household or a church interested in exploring the possibilities of hospitality, please contact us. If you are in the Twin Cities, we'd love to have you participate in the Christ Rooms Project. If you are outside the Twin Cities, we'd love to help you develop a hospitality network of your own. For more information, visit www.ChristRooms.com.
FUNDRAISING UPDATE In February 2012, we started raising funds for a new hospitality house: Simone Weil House. Part of our vision includes additional space for the Gene Stoltzfus Center for Creative Peacemaking. In the past year and a half, we've raised over $75,000. Our goal is to raise at least another $25,000. We are also open to exploring low or no interest personal loans. We've looked at several potential houses already and even made offers on two (but lost each bid). We are looking for a house with at least 7 bedrooms and additional space that could house a peace center for ongoing workshops, a peace library, and drop-in space. Please consider donating to our new house fund. Alternately, if you are able to offer a personal loan, we'd love to talk with you. For more info, visit www.mennoniteworker.com.
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ABOUT US
The Mennonite Worker
UPDATES FROM THE MENNONITE WORKER by Amy Van Steenwyk
The Mennonite Worker is an urban intentional community committed to following Jesus' way of hospitality, simplicity, prayer, peacemaking, and resistance. We are a Mennonite congregation whose way of life together is influenced by the Catholic Worker movement.
Contact Info email: info@mennoniteworker.com phone: 612.568.8320 web: www.mennoniteworker.com
Hospitality Houses Clare House 2717 South 8th Street Minneapolis, MN 55454 Sattler House 3312 31st Ave South Minneapolis, MN 55406
Weekly Worship Sunday evenings at 5pm we gather together at Clare House. Worship begins in our oratory (the space for prayer and worship above the garage) with a time of singing, prayer, teaching, and silence. Afterwards, at 6pm, we continue with our Agape Feast (the early church celberated Eucharist with an entire meal). All are welcome to join us at the table.
Community Meals We host meals throughout the week at each house, and sometimes at Faith Mennonite Church nearby. Call ahead if you'd like to join us for dinner.
October 1, 2013
Amy and Jonas overlooking Lake Superior.
The ebb and flow of residents, guests, and visits from new friends and old friends continues. We greatly miss Charlie, Jen and Clarence who are at the White Rose Catholic Farm outside of Chicago during this growing season. We also miss Anja who spent the winter and spring with us at Sattler House and now is in Cape Cod near her family. Cina and Gemma have been in the Phoenix area for the past couple months spending time with relatives there, particularly Cina’s mom who has been ill. We can’t wait for them to come back! Don Fuller has joined us at Clare House. And the newest resident of Clare House? Alasdair Asher Lynne Gerson, Sarah and Brett’s son, born May 11! He’s already spent a couple weeks in Florida and taken some dips in the ocean. Now he is back and he seems twice the size he was when he left! We enjoyed visits from Stefan, Isaac and Julie and, of course, the highlight of the late spring every year: Caleb’s return!
We had a packed season between our last issue and this one. Our Thanksgiving meal this year was in conjunction with MARS (Minneapolis Autonomous Radical Space) and Faith Mennonite Church. Following the meal there was a showing of the film, “Dakota 38” at the Minnehaha Free Space. A couple weeks later we threw our first Karaoke Dance Party above the Nomad. The theme was the music of the 70s-90s and our friends rose to the challenge with some great outfits, singing and dancing. The very next day, Brett had arranged for a showing of “As Long As the Rivers Flow,” a documentary about clear -cutting on the Grassy Narrows First Nations territory and the blockade that was begun in 2003. This was to commemorate the ten year anniversary of Canada’s longest running blockade. February brought us to our annual benefit dinner, always a fun night of reconnecting and enjoying a delicious meal together. This year we raised $1600! Thanks to all for your generosity and for sharing that evening with us! There were a few other fun things that marked our community life together, among them our second annual play reading in the late fall and a white elephant gift exchange on Epiphany. In January, Mark began cooking on a larger scale for an open-to-all community meal at Faith Mennonite on Wednesday nights. As Easter approached, we gathered on Maundy Thursday for our footwashing service as we do every year. This year we decided to celebrate Good Friday with an anti -drone vigil in tandem with friends in Seattle. Our gathering in Minneapolis ended in four arrests, though in the end all charges were dropped. Those of us who were able travelled in April to Winona where the local Catholic Worker was hosting the annual Midwest Resistance Retreat. It was a rich weekend of learning and training in preparation for an action the final day: blocking trucks full of frac-sand by standing and, in one case, picnicking in their path. This action resulted in the arrests of 30 or so people as well as some coverage in the press. It was also a huge encouragement to local activists there who continue to resist frac-sand mining. There are still a few more things to celebrate: Martin made a quick recovery from heart surgery, returning home after just a few weeks in a care facility. The puns surrounding that whole experienced have finally MOOved on. (Get it?) Paul Hnath has joined us as a member after two years living with us. Brett also has a new job as the Children and Youth Coordinator at Judson Memorial Baptist Church. We are thankful for gifts of food and plants for our garden, as well as Josh Miller and Jared’s tireless efforts in our two gardens. This month a few of us who were around Clare House on the Fourth of July enjoyed being present for the influx of thousands of Oromo folks who came to Riverside Park for their annual picnic gathering. Minnesota has the largest population of Oromo people outside of East Africa - 35,000 - our fourth largest group of immigrants. Yet most Minnesotans have not heard of this group of people who suffer the brunt of the many human rights violations in Ethiopia. This year, the first week in July was officially declared Oromo Week in St. Paul and Minneapolis. Paul, Amy and Jonas spent the 4th of July talking to neighbors, posting signs to raise awareness and welcome them to the neighborhood. Mark helped facilitate the 11th annual Jesus Radicals gathering in Elkhart, Indiana in August. Sarah, Brett, Alasdaire, Jonas, and I attended as well. Jonas, Mark and I continued to make our way to the Wild Goose Festival, where Mark's book was officially launched! After two years of work, the unKingdom of God is finally here. Our house hunt has intensified. We have been looking at quite a few houses, continuing to fund-raise and planning to move out of Sattler house sometime this late fall or early winter. So far we have found two houses that we were able to move on and enter a bid, but we were out-bid. Hopefully, by the time the next edition of the Mennonite Worker is published, we'll find ourselves with a new community house and with many exciting new stories to share!
October 1, 2013
The Mennonite Worker
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Recipe: Vegan Chili
Abraham Isaak: The Mennonite Anarchist
Servings: 30 Time: 30 minutes active, 60 minutes inactive
Abraham Isaak (October 4, 1856 – December 10, 1937) was a newspaper editor and Russian anarchist. He grew up among colony Mennonites in the Chortitza Colony in what is now Ukraine. He was the publisher of the Firebrand (1895 -1897) and Free Society (1897 1904). On a March 8, 1896 issue of the Firebrand, he offered the following reflection about being a Mennonite:
Ingredients: 6 T olive oil 4-5 medium onions, coarsely chopped 4 large yellow bell pepper, coarsely chopped 8 cloves of garlic, minced 6 T ground cumin 4 T chili powder 5-6 whole chipotle chilies in adobo sauce, diced 10 14 1/2-ounce cans diced tomatoes 4 50-ounce cans black beans, well drained 1 50 ounce can of white hominy 15 cups vegetable broth 3 T dark brown sugar 1/2 cup cocoa powder 2 cups coarsely chopped fresh cilantro
“I was born and raised in a community of Mennonites in Russia. These people settled in South Russia after the land had been taken by conquest from the Turks and obtained the privilege from the Russian to manage their own affairs, and as their religion was against civil laws they lived for about 70 years without laws or officers. (I must mention here that these people had been persecuted, executed, burned at the stake, etc. in western Europe and were considered as the lawless, just as the anarchists are today.)"
"There were no beggars, tramps nor thieves among them, and there was never a murder committed, although there were far over 100,000. There were no drunkards yet they had a distillery in their midst and everybody had access to the 'brand.' There was a socalled magistrate elected by the communities `to look after the conduct and welfare of the communities,’ as the government expresses it, but in the eyes of the members he was nothing but a mediator between them and the government. These people were all prosperous and happy as long as commercialism did not effect (sic) these communities. They formerly had only produced for their own use as neither cereal nor cattle were saleable. But when wheat raising became profitable, accumulation began; then some invested their money in factories and the 'rich and the poor' became distinct–government stepped in, and today there are beggars, thieves and drunkards among them, but I have not heard of a murder yet.”
Cooking Instructions: 1. Heat the oil in large pot. 2. Add onions, peppers and garlic and saute until soft.
An image of the Schönfeld Settlement in one of the Russian Mennonite colonies.
3. Add the cumin and chili powder and saute until the scent is released (5 minutes). 4. Add chipotle and tomatoes and bring to a simmer. 5. Add the beans, hominy, brown sugar, and cocoa powder, stir well. 6. Add enough vegetable broth. Simmer on low for one hour. 7. Stir in coarsely chopped cilantro just before serving.
This is a conversation that transpired when Jonas, age 5, overheard me (his father) discussing the Bradley (now Chelsea) Manning case with someone in our community... Jonas: Me: Jonas: Me: Jonas: Me: Jonas: Me: Jonas:
"Who's going to jail for 35 years?" "Bradley Manning... He used to be in the military and he exposed secrets from the government about killings and other bad things." "So why is he in jail?" "Because that's how the government works; it wants to keep its secrets." "So what is the world going to do about it? "I don't know what you mean. What do you think we should do?" "We should attack the government and make a new government. Not just protesting." "That sounds pretty violent." "We can attack without killing. Um, by, dressing as police officers and sneaking into the government and one by one tying them up and arresting them and putting them in jail." Me: "Do you just leave the government in jail forever?" Jonas: "No...just for two years." Me: "And then what?" Jonas: "Nothing. They would just be kicked out of the government and living in regular houses. FOREVER." Me: "Pretty good idea."
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The Mennonite Worker
FORSAKING CHRIST (A BOOK EXCERPT) by Mark Van Steenwyk My faith collapsed with my mother’s lungs. I spent my late teens caring for my dying mother. After years of struggling with emphysema, my mom’s lungs failed. Thankfully, with the help of medication and an oxygen tank, she was able to survive for the few years it took to get a lung transplant. Her surgery was successful, but the anti -rejection meds made her puffy, and she always seemed dangerously close to death. But she was alive…until she started smoking again. Within a few months of lighting up for the first time in years, she was dead. She died when I was 19. During the time in life when other teenagers were getting drunk in ice-houses or playing CB tag, I took care of my mother. The depressingness of those years seemed to fit the spirit of early nineties. My life read like an over-wrought script about a young man’s struggle with depression -laden absurdity. I was Gilbert Grape. I smelt like Teen Spirit. Gone was the optimism of the 80s, only to be replaced with the cynical honesty of the early 90s. I didn’t go to college after high school, even though my ACT scores were the best of my graduating class. Family first. I didn’t have many friends–most moved away after graduation. I was afraid to leave my mother alone. I was terrified that she would die while I was gone. In those rare occasions I’d go out with friends, my mother would shame me for staying away too long. “It is a good thing I didn’t die while you were out with your friends,” she would say.
I felt abandoned by God. The earlier years of my faith had been marked by deep feelings of conviction. God had seemed close to me–sometimes overwhelmingly so. But during this season, I felt nothing. Only drab loneliness. One day, I drove home to my dying mother in my death -car after sweeping a freezer that held little slivers of frozen potato which would later get a hot oil bath and be eaten by fat faces. It was a cloudy day. This was my life. My mother and I lived in a subsidized apartment near the trailer park on the north side of town. The walls were white, the carpet beige. I did my best to keep the apartment clean, but my mother was a hoarder. Soda cans (she drank Squirt) were strewn around the couch, my mothers nest. She had a bedroom, but she only used it for storage. She preferred the convenience of the couch –with its proximity to the television and the refrigerator– to the privacy of a bedroom. Normally when I got home, I would go to the fridge, grab a soda, and proceed to sit down in my chair to watch television with my mother. It was the closest thing to bonding I had with her; we watched Days of Our Lives together. But on this day, I only mumbled to her as I walked directly to my room. Earlier, as I swept dust off of a cold concrete floor, I had reflected upon my sad life and decided that I would formally renounce Christ.
My mother did let me have a part -time job, however. I needed money for a car and clothes, and the money she got only covered the basics: rent and food. I had what is perhaps the most soul-numbing job imaginable. I worked about 15 hours a week sweeping a warehouse. It was a 40,000 square foot freezer that housed only one thing: McDonald’s french fries.
I wanted to do it properly. I cleared space in the middle of my bedroom floor. I stripped naked and lay down upon the beige carpet of my bedroom, eyes staring up at the ceiling. After a time of silence, I began speaking words of rejection to God, committing intentional acts of blasphemy. If God had forsaken me, I would forsake God.
I was supposed to take a break every hour, because of the cold. I recall one time my supervisor asked me “Why don’t you ever take breaks? It is freezing in there, you’re supposed to take a break sometimes.”
I’ll spare you all of the blasphemous details. I blasphemed, forsook, and un-prayed for about an hour. When it was over, I was tired and numb; there was no release. No closure. I was just a naked depressed teenager laying on the floor.
I responded: “What’s the point?” And then I would get into my car and drive home. My car was as sad as my job. It was an old Datsun 200SX with failing breaks. It was pale blue and rusty. The driver’s side seat was propped forward by a broken hard-shelled suitcase. There was no muffler. But the stereo worked. Since my job gave me a lot of time alone to think, my mind would often ruminate over my miserable lot in life. I felt abandoned. I was the youngest of six children, yet I was left to care for my dying mother. I was a bright kid, yet I stayed in my small town while friends left for college or career. My church, which had once given my life meaning, was going through a split. I felt abandoned by family, friends, and church.
October 1, 2013 My life continued in the same sad way, but something small had shifted. I look back upon that day as the reason I’m a Christian. By forsaking Christ, I found Christ. Or, to be more precise, he found me. sssss In recent years, I’ve begun reading the works of French activist, mystic and philosopher Simone Weil. She’s one of those intellectuals that is often quoted but rarely read. She defies easy categorization. A third of the time, I am struck with her brilliance. During the other two thirds, I alternate between feelings of active boredom and mental irritation. I’d like to share with you one of her brilliant (yet irritating) statements. I share it because it speaks to my experience of failed apostasy: It is not for man [sic] to seek, or even to believe in God. He has only to refuse to believe in everything that is not God. This refusal does not presuppose belief. It is enough to recognize, what is obvious to any mind, that all the goods of this world, past, present, or future, real or imaginary, are finite and limited and radically incapable of satisfying the desire which burns perpetually within us for an infinite and perfect good. . . . It is not a matter of self-questioning or searching. A man [sic] has only to persist in his refusal, and one day or another God will come to him. That day, when I yelled at the ceiling in defiance, was the first time it had ever occurred to me that the Christ of my imagination might bear little to no resemblance to the living Christ. This was—and still is—an unsettling notion. But I have become comfortable with being unsettled. That is, I believe, the nature of faith. Our notions of God are often the biggest obstacles to knowing God. For much of my life, my Christianity has been a string of idolatrous ideas that have separated me from Christ—ideas that keep the untamed God safely distant. I have come to know Christ in the letting go of Christ. My prayer has become the same as thirteenth century mystic Meister Eckhart’s: “God, rid me of God.”
But then, in the silence, something happened. I felt the presence of Christ. It wasn’t accompanied by joy; it was accompanied with deeper feelings of sadness. In my soul, I knew that this deepening sadness was not my own, but the sorrow of Christ. Christ had come to commiserate. In those moments I knew he felt as I felt. He seemed as fed up, as angry, as depressed. He was with me in the midst of my grey season. As I lay in silent sadness, Jesus said: “Let it all go. Forsake it all. But you can’t forsake me, because I haven’t abandoned you. You can reject everything–the church, your theology, everything, but I’m still here.” And then things drifted back to normal. I was left on the floor in silent sadness. .
For more info about Mark's newest book,visit ivpress.com
October 1, 2013
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THE MENNONITE WORKER AGAPE LITURGY PRAYER OF ADORATION One: Let us pray. Living God, you are present in our midst. All: and we praise you. One: You are tearing down walls of alienation and exclusion. All: For this, we praise you…
The Lord's Supper by Fritze Eichenberg
Agape is the Koine Greek work for “self -giving love”. In early Christian tradition Agape is also the name for communal meals and times of togetherness and mutual sharing. Often, these “love feasts” were Eucharistic (that means they functioned as the Lord’s Supper). In that spirit, we celebrate the Agape every week, bringing together elements of a traditional Eucharist meal, prayer, confession, and praise. Anyone may lead. And all are welcome to eat at the table.
All: We come to this table hungry and thirsty. Satisfy us, O God. One: As we gather at this table, we remember these words of our brother Jesus: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. All: We come to this table weary and burdened. Give us rest, O God. One: As we gather at this tale, we remember that Jesus comes to us in the stranger, in the hungry, in the thirsty, and in the one needing warmth. All: We come to this table as strangers in a strange land. Welcome us into your family, O God.
1) Am I reconciled to all at this table? 2) Does anyone here have a need that it is within my power to meet? 3) Is there anything I cling to that keeps me from offering love to those at this table?
One: Because, in Jesus, you have shown us a way of hospitality, simplicity, prayer, peacemaking, and resistance.
One: Hear the good news: In the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of our brother Jesus, God proclaims forgiveness. In the name of Jesus, you are forgiven!
All: we praise you.
All:
One: Because your Spirit makes a new path for us, as we struggle to live in the belly of Empire. All: We praise you. One: weak as we are, you fill us with hope. Lover of our souls, you give us joy. All:
and we praise you. Amen.
CALL TO THE FEAST One: This is a table of welcome. All are free to come and eat. As we gather at this table, we remember these words of our brother Jesus: “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.”
Pause for a time of silent confession. Consider these questions:
PRAYER OF CONFESSION One: We remember that Jesus said: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment.” All: Merciful God, we confess that we have not loved you with our whole heart. It is easy to be distracted with fickle dreams and selfish desires. Forgive us.
In the name of Jesus, we are forgiven!
SETTING THE TABLE One: We take joy in the meal, where we give our love and attention to one another, and remember that Jesus too is here, with us. In the midst of this sacred meal we set three symbols to remind us of his promises to us: Reader 1: A candle, to remind us that he poured out his Holy Spirit upon us, giving us new life, new power, and new hope. We, filled with this Spirit, bring the presence of God into a broken world. Reader 2: Bread, for he is the bread of life. He nourishes us and we put our trust in him. Reader 3: A cup, a reminder of his sufferings. He took up the cup with his friends before he was crucified and his blood flowed. He suffers still when the oppressed suffer injury at the hands of the powerful.
One: And Jesus reminds us of a second command: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”
One: Jesus is with us! Let us open our hearts to God and to one another. Amen.
All: Loving One, we confess that we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. Our hearts too easily put our needs above the needs of others, seeking comfort and safety without regard for those who have greater need.
PASSING THE PEACE The people gathered offer one another a sign of peace. Usually, this is a hug, but a handshake is also appropriate.
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October 1, 2013
TOP LEFT: Gathering for a cold Good Friday service. MIDDLE LEFT: We pause to remember the children who have been murdered with drone strikes. BOTTOM LEFT: Brett and Mark are arrested while a federal agent watches. TOP RIGHT: Jonas is bored. BOTTOM RIGHT: Josh is under arrest. Photos by Joshua Miller.
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DEATH FROM ABOVE: REFLECTIONS FROM OUR GOOD FRIDAY ANTI-DRONE LITURGY by Brett Gershon On Good Friday, the Mennonite Worker along with members of Church of All Nations, Community of Saint Martin, and individuals from faith communities across the Twin Cities metropolitan area gathered for a public liturgy intended both to protest and repent of complicity in the increasingly more frequent use of weaponized drones in countries such as Pakistan, Libya, Yemen, Iran, and Somalia. Where the Roman empire preferred crucifixion as its primary mode of execution during Jesus’ time, the USAmerican empire has developed a more sophisticated, albeit less accurate (i.e. collateral damage) means of executing its enemies via unmanned aerial vehicles or drones. Because Good Friday is a time to remember the crucifixion of Jesus who in submitting willingly to a brutal death at the hands of the Roman empire, was in solidarity with the “crucified people” of his day, and because drones or unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) bear such striking resemblance to a crucifix, we thought it befitting to gather in remembrance of the “crucified people” of our own time. Jesus still suffers with the men, women, and children crucified by drone strikes: this was the general message of the liturgy. Though the individuals gathered neither participated in the development of, nor condone the use of weaponized drones, we gathered in recognition that the “war on terror” is largely economically incentivized and wears a humanitarian disguise. As members of the empire receiving the economic benefits and privileges, we are complicit both in ways that are within and outside of our control. After a time of prayer, song, and testimony we ended with a litany, which was concluded by following lines: We bear witness to Babylon’s drone strikes in Pakistan and Yemen. You have stained our hands with the blood of our neighbors! We bear witness to endless war in the Middle East. You have stained our hands with the blood of our neighbors! We bear witness to continued oppression of the indigenous! You have stained our hands with the blood of our neighbors! We bear witness to the mass incarceration of young black men. You have stained our hands with the blood of our neighbors! We bear witness to the daily crucifixion of our Lord in the oppressed. In complicity and complacency, our hands are stained with his blood. In our repentance, we will resist the powers of domination. Lord, in your mercy. Hear our prayer. Amen. The liturgy continued from there as Brian Kraft, Joshua Miller, Mark VanSteenwyk and I poured a libation of (fake) blood (a concoction mixed by Marty L. composed of corn syrup, red food dye, water, and liquid dish detergent) over our hands and marched to the doors of the Federal Courthouse, while singing the Taizé hymn Watch and Pray: “Stay with me. Remain here with me. Watch and pray. Watch and pray.” We then placed our blood stained hands on the Federal courthouse and remained there continuing to sing and pray. Shortly thereafter, the police arrived and asked us to move our demonstration to the sidewalk, so that the mess could be cleaned. After respectfully declining and explaining that once we were done, we would be happy to clean our mess up, we were charged with 4th degree property damage, escorted in handcuffs, and placed in squad cars to be taken and booked in the Minneapolis “Public Safety Facility.” After spending the next 7 hours going from cell to cell in Minneapolis’ convoluted booking process, we were released on bail. Just recently, we received the good news that all four of us had our charges dropped. Hallelujah! We can now begin to plot and scheme about our next arrestable action. Stay tuned for how you might be able to participate!
COMMUNITY NEEDS coffee dried beans energy efficient light bulbs toilet paper dish soap stamps a gas drier
canning lids laundry soap copier paper candles books/dvds for the peace library drinking glasses grill/smoker
a food dehydrator bedding a minivan volunteers to help with renovations a new refrigerator towels
DRONE STATISTICS Drones are unmanned aerial combat vehicles that offer the United States government a new means of “targeted killing”—premeditated killing of an individual, by an organization or institution, outside a battlefield. It is, in other words, a form of execution, like crucifixion, often done without a trial. s
Between 2500 and 5000 people have been crucified by US drones since 2004.
s
These deaths have taken place in Pakistan, Somalia and Yemen.
s
According to the Bureau of Investigative Journalism, nearly 1000 of those killed were civilians, including almost 200 children.
s
Many more have been injured.
s
Many more may have been killed, since the US does not report information on drone strikes. These numbers are based upon independent research.
s
U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder maintains that the president has the legal authority to execute US citizens on US soil using drone strikes.
s
Since 2009 Obama has sanctioned the extrajudicial killing (by drone strike) of 4 United States citizens.
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October 1, 2013
TRYING NOT TO STICK MY HEAD IN THE SAND by Steve Clemens After walking two miles behind a “Stop Frac Sand” banner, we arrived at the Port of Winona where 18-wheel trucks were unloading their cargoes of silica frac sand on to barges in the Mississippi River to be shipped to natural gas fracking operations in Texas or other locations. A second group of friends walked over three miles to another Winona, MN site where already -mined frac sand was being washed before loaded on to the trucks that were arrive at the port. With the support of dozens of other friends, 35 of us were arrested on trespass charges as we nonviolently blocked the trucks this morning in what may have been the largest protest to date against fracking. I traveled to Winona at the invitation of the Winona Catholic Worker, the community which was hosting the annual Midwest Catholic Worker “Faith and Resistance Retreat”. Members of this group who offer hospitality to the poor and marginalized from at least 9 nearby states gathered from Friday evening until today for a time of reflection, renewal, fellowship, and resistance. We recited a pledge to practice nonviolence before the march to the protest sites and many of us carried a letter sent to the gathering from the farmer -philosopher Wendell Berry. In it he writes: You have offered me the privilege of joining by letter with you and your friends in Winona in opposition to “frac sand mining,” and I am happy to accept. I will say, first, that there is never, for any reason, a justification for doing long-term or permanent damage to the ecosphere. We did not create the world, we do not own it, and we have no right to destroy any part of it. Second, most of our politicians and their corporate employers are measuring their work by standards of profitability and mechanical efficiency. Those standards are wrong. There is one standard that is right: the health of living creatures and the living earth. Third, we must give our needs to eat, drink, and breathe an absolute precedence over our need for mined fuels. I wish you well. Others carried a letter written by Sandra Steingraber, an upstate NY scientist and mother who is in jail for her nonviolent protest at Seneca Lake, NY. We carried a Statement of Purpose drawn up by the Catholic Workers on “Ending Fracking and Silica Sand Mining.” But mostly we carried ourselves – with our strong desires to help save our environment so it can be passed on to future generations.
Our message was placing our bodies in front of the trucks to shut down the shipping of this sand used to extract more fossil fuels. Greed, fueled by short -term profits is a major reason we are shackled with climate disruptions and the extinction of huge numbers of various species. Shared sacrifice and community are some of the tools we choose to use to claw our way back (or ahead) and this inter -generational gathering provided both challenge and hope. This weekend offered an opportunity to reflect and act with others who share a vision of a more compassionate approach to life and want to be part of a nonviolent struggle to make that an alternative path for us to pursue.
All in the attempt to continue what has been called our “American way of life” – the over-consumption of finite resources in a world where many are desperate for adequate food and water. Many Americans want to stick their heads in the sand, pretending there is no need for a change of heart and a change of course. My friends and I want to risk our own freedom in order to say “no!"
Only 35 risked arrest because each of those communities need someone who remains committed to providing hospitality for the marginalized in their home areas in case those arrested get the maximum sentence of 90 days in jail. The state “criminal trespass” charge also allows for a hefty fine as well but most Catholic Workers on principle would refuse to pay such because to do so would lessen their abilities to serve the poor. I am not a Catholic Worker. I’m not even a Catholic but I am humbled and blessed to be welcomed into their midst. But even others are not Catholic. The relatively new “Mennonite Worker” community from Minneapolis was well represented as well as the Phillips -based “Rye House”. So those acting and living within the spirit of Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin, founders of the movement, are welcomed. Seasoned activists led the Sunday afternoon nonviolence training but it is always good to have a refresher every once in awhile and to provide a welcome format for the “rookies” to civil disobedience and nonviolent direct action. The Winona police were very courteous to us even after our refusal to leave led to our arrest. When I mentioned my problems with carpal tunnel as I was being handcuffed, the arresting officer asked if I was OK with being ‘cuffed in front instead of the standard behind -the-back position. I am grateful for the kindness shown. Many of these police officers know of the possible health risks to themselves from breathing in these sand particles. They also know how “get rich quick” schemes brought about by outsiders wishing to profit from exploiting these local resources have created a multitude of conflicts within this southern Minnesota river town. Getting arrested while working for nonviolent change –especially when joined with like -minded friends– is a privilege in our democracy at a time when corporate voices try to drown out citizen concerns. Polished advertising on our TVs try to convince us that there is “clean coal” or that exploiting oil and gas resources can make us “energy independent” or provide hundreds or thousands of jobs.
WHAT IS FRACKING? Hydraulic fracturing is the use of sand, water, and chemicals injected at high pressures to blast open shale rock and release the trapped gas inside. The oil and gas drilling industry argues that fracking has been around for 40 years and is completely safe. However, while vertical fracking has been around for 40 years, hydraulic fracturing combined with horizontal drilling is very new and only began in Ohio in 2011. Horizontal drilling adds increased risk to the water supply. The use of horizontal fracking requires millions of gallons of fresh water, acres of land per well, and the use of undisclosed chemicals...all leading to an increase in harmful air emissions, water contamination, and serious problems associated with the disposal of waste fluids. While fracking doesn't happen in Minnesota, there are frac sand (industrial silica sand) mining operations here. Silica sand has the ideal size and composition required for fracking operations. Not only does frac sand mining damage local habitats, silica sand particulants are problematic for human health once kicked into the air.
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The Mennonite Worker
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TOP LEFT: Catholic Workers march toward one of two blocades. MIDDLE LEFT and BOTTOM LEFT: Linking arms to block trucks carrying silica sand to barges. TOP RIGHT: Jared, from the Mennonite Worker, making a new friend. BOTTOM RIGHT: Indeed, there is no right way to do something so wrong! Photos by Joshua Miller.
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HOSPITALITY FROM A GUEST'S PERSPECTIVE by Jennifer Shirk
One difficulty I’d like to mention is that it is not possible for some spaces to provide privacy in the case of relational conflict. I found myself awkwardly situated in an adjacent space during some conflicts while we were on the road. But as the guest, not having the full range of the house or my own space to necessarily vacate to, I ended up unable to do anything but sit in the awkwardness of the moment. Likewise, having the inevitable conflicts with my partner and having no space but the sidewalk to talk it out was trying, especially when people would walk by and it became necessary to lower our voices or smile and say hello. Because who wants to be walking down the street, minding their own business, and be caught up in the middle of someone else’s conflict? Another difficulty I encountered while staying as a guest was wondering if I understood the expectations of my hosts. They say that they don’t care that my baby broke something, or that he emptied out their bathroom cabinets and chewed up all of their toilet paper. But do they really mean it? Especially when it happens every single day? Is it really okay that I want to sit around and watch TV, even though they felt very excited to show me the sights around they city? Are they stressed about the added work and time commitment of having a guest? How can I alleviate that stress? All of these situations boil down to one conviction I found myself worrying about again and again no matter where we stayed. Are we a burden? Is my staying here keeping my host from having the time to do the things they need or would like to do? Is the mess we make or the fact that I have no where to be except for the living room keeping them from feeling like they have a place of refuge? Is the fact that I am here when a conflict arises distressing to them? I tried my best to clean up after myself and my son. The thing is, his favorite thing to do right now is empty out any container or cabinet and strew everything onto the floor. If I pick things up and they are still in his reach he seems to think that I’ve put it away to give him the joy of immediately pulling it all out again.
PLASTIC JESUS by Mark Van Steenwyk
My partner and I, along with our one year old son, just finished up a couple month journey exploring the west coast. We had been involved with the Mennonite Worker for about four years prior to our trip. While there we gained experience hosting our friends, family, and lots of strangers who became friends. We learned a lot in that time. The people who have hosted us on our travels were wonderful. Having hosted at The Mennonite Worker, I believe that I understand how difficult offering hospitality can be—even when your guests are close friends. I want to emphasize that the feelings I had as a guest are in no way a negative reflection of any of our hosts. Instead, these challenges are, in my opinion, the inevitable reality of living in someone else’s space. Even in the face of overwhelming support from those hosting us, it is hard to be a perpetual guest.
October 1, 2013
Jen, with her partner Charlie and their son, Clarence. I ended up buying groceries and trying to cook yummy food for my hosts, both because I enjoy it, and because I felt so much like Amelia Bedelia. I thought that no matter how much trouble we caused our hosts, maybe if the food I made was tasty enough, everything would be all right. I guess what made me feel the most tired of all in the end is that I didn’t have my own space. There wasn’t a place where it didn’t matter if I didn’t clean up. I never felt completely free to do what I wanted to do, because it was always at someone else’s expense. This becomes very wearying after awhile. Me and my little family are guests by choice. We have chosen to uproot to pursue a life calling. We have stayed with people who know us and love us. I can’t imagine how exhausting and scary it could be to stay with strangers, and with no end in sight. Jesus said that it is more blessed to give than to receive. In my opinion, it is also easier. At the Mennonite Worker I did find it difficult to host people at times. However, I feel that living in a culture that so highly values independence makes necessary dependency a very stressful position to be in.
Entombed in plastic My lord speaks Brought low by thrifty men His dangerous words forgotten Divinity branded His glory exchanged for a bar code Cosmic Creator constrained With a tiny TM The Lion of Judah Pushed into a cage The Lamb of God Sacrificed at the altar of good taste The voice of the prophet Silenced for profit As affluence pours Not to the poor But to the affluent In a sad twist Jesus sold at the table Of the money changers No one hears the cries From inside his plastic tomb As onward Christian soldiers March to war We dream an American Dream Eyes shut to the Kingdom Vision Followers of Jesus shopping in the city With Jesus bound and gagged in the trunk A day in the life of the Church Of the American Empire
This time of travelling will be a short season of my life. I’m hoping that the perspective I’ve gained during this time will last a lifetime. I further hope that honestly outlining some of the difficulties that our guests might encounter will inspire myself and others who have chosen the way of hospitality to do so with renewed empathy and compassion. WANT TO BE A PART OF THE MENNONITE WORKER? The Mennonite Worker has an opening for a new resident. Residents are those who have come to the Mennonite Worker to share in our way of life. New residents commit to living with us for at least 9 months. After that, they may either move on from our community or seek membership. The first three months of residency are a time of discernment; at any point during that time, the resident may decide that it isn't a good fit for them. During the initial few months of their stay with us, new residents will engage in a time of "hands on" learning. It is a loosely structured time of engaging our core values in a variety of ways--reading, watching documentaries, learning trips, learning new skills, and more. Everyone is given freedom to learn at their own pace, but our hope is that everyone will be stretched to engage new ideas and embrace new practices. Joining our community is a "jump in with both feet" sort of experience. We are looking for motivated self-starters who are excited about meeting new people and being stretched. In particular, as we are in the middle of a major housing transition, we would particularly welcome folks who are excited to help with renovation work, painting, decorating, etc. For more information visit: www.mennoniteworker.com/residency
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The Mennonite Worker
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JOIN US! "Christ of the Breadlines" by Fritz Eichenberg
Offering hospitality to strangers is foundational to Christian life. Jesus’ life and ministry were marked by radical welcome and inclusion of those considered outsiders (“sinners”) by both the Roman imperial system and the Jewish Temple system. He lived, as one with “no place to lay his head,” completely dependent on the hospitality of others. As a result, the early church understood that welcoming strangers into one’s home and breaking bread together was a central practice that made Christ present as both host and guest. Christian hospitality broke through barriers of fear, competition and scapegoating, common in an imperial society marked by the logic of scarcity. The co-opting of the Western church by imperial power served to institutionalize the practice of hospitality, distancing it from day-to-day life. The church slowly learned to dehumanize those considered “aliens,” “strangers,” or “sinners.” This is especially evident in the last five hundred years of European Christian history, which led to the genocide of native peoples around the globe as Europeans competed for land, bodies, and resources. The white American church exists today in the ruins of this broken table, now largely acclimated to an imperial form of Christianity that seeks security, success, and comfort, while captive to an individualism that is numb to the suffering around and within.
young adults to join us and other leading practitioners from North America as we explore how the church might rediscover the practice of Christian hospitality. In a society where individuals have been conditioned to fear their neighbor, both locally and globally, how do we face our history and hateful divisions honestly, name and confess our fears, and pray for the historical, collective, and personal healing that is possible only in Jesus Christ? This conference aims to challenge our conventional notions of imperial “hospitality,” instead, equipping for an uncalculating hospitality that welcomes all as God’s very own. Presenters include Richard Beck, Mary Jo Leddy, Jim Bear Jacobs, Jin S. Kim, Mark Van Steenwyk, and more! WHAT: Christian Hospitality: Restoring the Broken Table WHEN: Registration begins at 1pm on October 4th. WHERE: 4301 Benjamin St NE Minneapolis, MN 55421 Sponsored by the Church of All Nations and the Mennonite Worker. Visit www.BrokenTable.org for more information.
We invite pastors, theologians, seminarians, community activists, church leaders and
This week's crossword solution (see page 12).
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The Mennonite Worker
AROUND THE TABLE
by Mark Van Steenwyk
Across
47
1 8 12 13 14 16 17
48 49
18 19 25 26
27 30 31 33 34 35 38
39 42 45
Wrote The Conquest of Bread. Hebrew name for God. Fringe. Freedom to do as one pleases. White noise. Used to bind a wooden boat together. A kind of chocolate bar that is the purrrfect snack. Porter. You use this to make mashed potatoes. Bosana, Kalamata, or Gemlik for example. A person or thing foreshadowed by an earlier symbol, such as a figure in the New Testament who has a counterpart in the Old Testament. Early proponent of economic democracy. Or a device for pulverizing grain. Some folks swear by these culinary devices, but I think they're a crock. Afraid of outsiders. Some Eastern spiritualties say it is an illusion. Augustine saw it as a privation. In India, it is called the "king of vegetables." A dish made of grain. Or a horrid stench. The Saint Paul Pioneer Press holds one of these every winter in conjunction with the Winter Carnival. Part of the accoutrement needed for Maundy Thursday. A baked dessert. In Minnesota, we'd use Haralson. Claret is what the English call the red variety of wine from this region.
October 1, 2013
50 51
The posture a parent might take when scolding their child. Little curved pasta tubes. A porridge that can be hot, cold, or in a pot (nine days old). Served before the main course. Hell. Or Phoenix in the summer.
Down 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 9 10 11
15 20 21 22
23 24
Starchy crop that originates in Peru. Asia Minor (or a type of poultry). The act of recollecting past experiences or events, often to share them as personal stories. A cool device. A rind. Or a long handled tool used in baking. Baked earth. Sweet glaze. About 1/4 of Minnesotans are this (slightly less than those who identify as Catholic). To emerge from an egg. An English soup that uses brains and organ meats such as calf's head or a calf's foot. It is a tortoise's favorite soup. A variety of 36 across traditionally associated with witches. Another use for Haralsons (see 42 across). Furry cat vomit. A lightly browned yeast -based sweet bun containing dried fruit. Delicious with Earl Grey. It is what makes tobacco so addictive. The ability of a person to exert force on physical objects using muscles.
28
29 32 36 37 40 41 43
44 46
Refers to an academic discipline using methods of intellectual discourse that analyzes the cultural legacies of imperialism. Like Cottage Pie, but with lamb. Genovese cake is a variety of this porous confection. To bring together for a common purpose. A brush with a long handle. Cured sausage, like Soppressata, Pepporoni, or Spanish Chorizo. A person associated with but not officially residing in an institution. The earliest varieties of this were made 40,000 years ago with ochre, hematite, manganese oxide, or charcoal. Synonym of number 24 down. A large grain plant domesticated by indigenous peoples in Mesoamerica.
Last issue's solution. Find the solution to this week's crossword on page 11.
Here's an image of number one across. In The Conquest of Bread, he writes: "The means of production being the collective work of humanity, the product should be the collective property of the race. Individual appropriation is neither just nor serviceable. All belongs to all."