Place of Meeting March 2015

Place of Meeting

The joys and perils of movement Moving –– and learning as we go –– has been a perhaps somewhat unintentional theme at TUMC of late, from a fun afternoon of square dancing in the depths of January, to rapid movements on our building project and the Aurora House program, to a day devoted to human migration around the world. More about all of those inside.

Toronto United Mennonite Church

March 2015

Place of Meeting

Milestones

is the meaning of the Huron word “toronton,” from which our city gets its name. Fittingly, it can also mean “plenty” or “abundance.”

Place of Meeting is also the monthly newsletter of Toronto United Mennonite Church. May you find plenty here to enjoy and ponder. Opinions expressed are those of the writers and not necessarily of the congregation as a whole.

Contributions of all kinds are enthusiastically received, through the mail folder in the lobby or at dmartens@pathcom.com Next deadline: March 31 Have you discovered the allcolour online version of Place of Meeting, complete with live weblinks? Check this month’s issue out here: issuu.com/pomeditor/docs/ pom_march_2015l NOTE: New address for submissions: dmartens4@ cogeco.ca Editor: Doreen Martens

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Top: On Feb.1, we rejoiced with Clark and Kendell Banack on the dedication of their daughter, Brynn Carolyn. On Jan. 18 we marked Mennonite World Fellowship Day (and the 490th birthday of the Anabaptist movement) with a multilingual service featuring slide shows depicting Mennonite World Conference churches and assemblies; sang in six languages and placed our offering in bags handmade for previous assemblies in India, Zimbabwe and Paraguay.

People on the Move: five reflections

T

he Feb. 15 worship service reflected a theme both global and, for many TUMCers, deeply personal: displacement and migration. We were reminded that the world is experiencing an unprecedented flow of refugees pushed from their homes by war, ethnic cleansing, food shortages, environmental and natural disasters, climate change, human traafficking, violence and desperate poverty –– as well as migrants drawn by the availability elsewhere of jobs, land, resources, health and education in a world where these are unattainable for many.

Surrounded by an exhibit from Mennonite Central Committee, a series of banners that drew parallels between historic Mennonite migrations and the current flow of immigrants and refugees to new shores, we were invited also to remember the biblical call to the Hebrews to remember their own migrant stories and to safeguard the widows, orphans and foreigners among them.

The junior youth recalled the work they put into creating hygiene kits for refugees in Syria, and a refugee simulation exercise they did recently, at which Elizabeth Ajak spontaneously shared her own experiences as a refugee in Sudan.

Youngsters got the chance to wrap up in homemade comforters –– each made with love –– as a reminder that such gifts of warmth and care, given to people in distress, are a sign of our love for one another and of God’s love for us all, in the spirit of Matthew 25 (“just as you did this for one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it for me.”

Four congregation members offered brief stories of migration past and present, hinting at the struggles that many millions have and are experiencing. On request, we are publishing them here, along with preacher Tim Schmucker’s reflection on receiving hospitality as the alien in Nicaragua.

Hans Fast Elfrieda and I were born in Mennonite colonies in Ukraine.

Our families experienced the hardships under communism.

During World War II the German army occupied the area, and things got better for us. But when in 1943 the German army retreated, our family moved with them in the direction of Germany via Poland. Elfrieda was only an infant, and I was 5 years old.

We didn’t come from the same village, and Elfrieda’s family was able to travel by train, whereas my family, as many others, were on the trek with a horse and wagon. In Poland we were allowed a pause in our retreat, and even encouraged to take up work and school. This lasted about a year, but then we had to flee again towards the west in early 1945. At this time the retreat became chaotic due to the rapidly advancing Soviet troops. Being caught by the communists would result in being sent to Siberia.

Elfrieda’s family kept moving from one place to another in western Europe, trying to find a safe place, and eventually they reached the safety of the MCC refugee camp in Gronau, Germany, an area controlled by Western Allies. In 1948, her family, along with many other refugees accompanied by Elfrieda Dyck from MCC, boarded the ship Charlton Monarch

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People on the move and sailed for South America.The voyage was plagued with problems such as mutiny of the crew, failure of electrical power and drifting on the high seas. Eventually they arrived in Brazil, and were transported to the Paraguayan Chaco. Eight years later, they were able to immigrate to B.C. Unfortunately, my family as well as many others was captured by the Soviet army in Poland. In 1947 we were sent to East Germany, which was controlled by Russia. We had to hide from the communist authorities the fact we had come from Ukraine. Had they known, they would have sent us back to Russia. We lived in a small town and fortunately were able to blend in with the locals, until we established contact through the Red Cross with my aunt and cousins, who had been able to escape the Soviets and emigrate to St. Catharines, Ont. Through correspondence with our relatives, we were informed that an MCC refugee centre existed in Berlin. This was in 1950, and we decided to take the train to Berlin, which was in East Germany. We travelled at night so the neighbours wouldn’t notice our departure. Berlin was divided among the Western Allies and the Russian occupation, but the infamous Berlin Wall did not exist yet. At that time, people from East Germany were allowed to enter Berlin, but would have to return to their homes within 24 hours. My family desperately counted on finding the MCC refugee center and being accepted as refugees in Berlin within the next 24 hours, and thank God, we were accepted and did not have to return to our town in East Germany.

The MCC staff provided us with accommodation for three weeks and then were able to transfer us to the Gronau MCC centre in West Germany. Our stay there was relatively short.

MCC arranged passage for us to our relatives in St. Catharines. Elfireda and I did not know each other until we met in Vancouver. From then on we travelled together.

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Diana Gallego Just four or five days ago, close to the north coast of Africa, trying to reach Europe, close to Italy, two ships carrying hundreds of people, desperate husbands, wives and hopeless children, just carrying clothes, were trying to reach a safe place.

They didn’t get their dream, which was to find a safe place to live.

The life of a refugee is always a fine line between hopes and dreams, and a fear of the unknown. Some find this dream, others not. Sitting today in this holy place, are many with profound stories of migration, refugee and exile. I am one of those living in exile. But unlike those, I have found hope and care, because we have, with my family, found friendship and community here. However, outside –– close or far from here –– are others, desperate, waiting for something: a friendly hand, and a warm place.

In Colombia, half a century of internal, social and armed conflict has produced thousands and thousands of victims, thousands of disappeared people, and according to human rights organizations, 5 million internally displaced people are in Colombia. My family and I were forced to move around Colombia; we had to leave our home several times to avoid paramilitary groups. Every time we fled, we were losing something of our life. We were human rights defenders in Colombia –– that’s a dangerous job to do in a place like this. Even being a social leader, a teacher, to be part of a trade union, you live in constant fear that something is going to happen to you.

We tried to keep going, but when someone close to you –– like

People on the move your 4-year-old son –– is threatened, it saps your hope and strength. You desperately look for a safe place, because you see that your home is not that safe place to be anymore. Then you try to reach another place.

Fortunately, we had the support of the organizations we worked with. We were trying to go to Belgium.

There was trauma work to do, and papers to present, and time was passing. I was home with my son while my husband was working with an indigenous community in Colombia. But the fear –– just to go outside to buy milk or go to the park with my son, and thinking something might happen to him –– was really strong.

The last three months before we fled were really scary.

There were times when I was waiting for my husband to call, to see if he was still alive. Then my husband launched a book denouncing human rights violations in Colombia, and luckily we were invited to come to Canada to talk about the book. We were helped to buy some tickets, and my son and I travelled together with my husband.

When we came to Canada in 2002, we decided to escape. We called the Belgian embassy and said, we’re going to remain in Canada. And we asked for refugee status. Luckily, we got it.

I know that many internally displaced people in Colombia are still at this moment living in a really precarious position. They left their homes in the beautiful countryside and had to go to the capital city of Bogota to live in a precarious way, without jobs, just begging in the streets or selling whatever they can sell.

We consider ourselves the lucky ones that could reach another land.

When we found the Mennonite Church, the New Life Centre –– which was at that time run by Betty and Adolfo Puricelli –– in February 2003, I remember how Betty offered her help. Her face gave us hope, her warmth welcomed us, and she gave us two blankets like the ones here, made by Mennonite ladies from Kitchener-Waterloo. Those are still in our home, and every time we have found ourselves missing our old home, these blankets have reminded us: this is our home. We still miss our home (in Colombia), because of our families, our things, our dreams. But this is our new home. Thankyou everybody who welcomes a stranger into their home.

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People on the move Florence Latabu Growing up in Northern Uganda, I had no idea that one day I’d cross the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, to settle in Canada, the land of immigrants. My move to Canada was not caused by political instability, nor catastrophe. Love was the driving cause of my movement. I followed where my other half was.

Though in my adopted land I’ve got many caring people, a supportive husband, opportunity to go back to school as a mature student, affordable healthcare, good transportation, freedom of speech, there’s also many challenges that I do face. And this is the quest for belonging and identity.

I am currently holding two passports, a woman of two nations. My Ugandan passport, my motherland, and a Canadian passport, my adopted mother. I have double duties –– to serve my adopted country, Canada, as well as to serve my motherland, Uganda, part of Africa.

I have become a stranger in my own land, Uganda. Though I still speak the native language, Acholi, I no longer reason or dream in Acholi. I dream in broken English with a heavy accent. I still enjoy the traditional food, but with making several visits to the washroom. Uganda is not the Uganda I left 13 years ago, however I still call Uganda my home. I can’t truly abandon Uganda, becuase I still have my siblings, my mother, friends and cousins residing there.

On the other hand, I cannot fully ignore Canada, because this is the palce my children call home. I continue to struggle to find balance between these two loyalties. It is not easy to find a balance; it’s as hard as cracking a Brazil nut with your teeth.

An African proverb says that an orphan who becomes rich finds she has many relatives. I find this to be true. The first year I was in Canada, I got calls every other two weeks

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from relatives, friends, even some relatives I’ve never seen, demanding me to send money. Some wanted to start a business; others asked for school fees. It took me about 10 years to learn the word no, and to love within limits. I may respond to their needs, but not their wants.

My action took my family by surprise. They named me Otara, meaning white from the inside and black from the outside. I have become a woman of two colours. In my culture, the word “no” is considered the language of the white dominant colonists. But here a woman said the word no.

Though the struggle continues, I’m grateful that I’ve got a good supportive community. You’ve taught me patience as a TUMC village, and forgiveness. I know sometimes I still get off the leash, but I have wonderful people to put me back on the leash. You have showed me love and hospitality, and I too shall transfer this love to others that you are not able to reach.

Syria (Presented by Doreen Martens, from reports by Linda Espenshade, MCC.) Ahmad and Nisreen had a nice home in Hama, Syria, a city on the banks of the Orontes River about 200 km north of Damascus, famed for its ancient water wheels that lifted water into agricultural canals. The garden courtyard in the centre of their home opened to the sky, allowing smoke from the barbecue and the laughter of their nine children to waft into the neighbourhood. In her kitchen, Nisreen prepared dinners with meat each day for the family, using her

People on the move space of just three years or so –– about four times Toronto’s population.

So theLebanese, who initally welcomed their neighbours, are now feeling increasingly resentful.

They’re competing with Syrians for jobs. The cost of rent has doubled for everyone, classrooms are overcrowded, and public utilities can’t keep up to the demand. Syrians feel the hostility growing against hem, but it’s impossible to go home, and for many, even if the war ended today, there would be nothing left to go backto.

“You are all we have; you give us what we need; our lives are in your hands O Lord, our lives are in your hands,” we sang as we “migrated” about the sanctuary at intervals during the service. full-size stove, a complete set of cookware and running water not unlike our own homes. If she needed bread, she sent one of the children with some cash to the bakery. Feeding the family on Ahmad’searnings was no difficult.

At least that’s how it used to be –– before the fighting between Syrian government and opposition forces in Hama “went crazy,” as Ahmad says.

In Septmeber 2013, the family fled Syria for Beirut, Lebanon.

“Our house used to be our paradise,” Nisreen said recently, in the oneroom apartment where the 11 of them now live. Their home inSyria has been destroyed. It takes all of the $500 a month herhusband earns to pay their rent. In one area of the apartment, thin mattresses are piled next to the windows, where the children entertain themselves day after day because Ahmad is worried about their safety outside. The family has gradually collected secondhand appliances, including an old stove with one working burner that Nisreen now uses to cook the rice and lentils that Ahmad buys with vouchers he gets from Popular Aid for Relief and Development, which is supported by MCC and the Canadian Foodgrains Bank.

This is just one family among about 1.3 million Syrian refugees, half of hem children, who have left their homes, schools and relatives behind when they came to Lebanon. They traded the fear of being killed for life in tent camps and crowded, tiny apartments, for high food prices and jobs with long hours and low pay.

Think of this –– there are 1.3 million Syrian refugees in Lebanon, a coun try of only 4.3 million Lebanese. If we in Canada took in an equivalent number, we would have 10 and a half million newcomers arrivin in the

In some ways, Ahmad and Nisreen were lucky. For many refugees, escaping danger in Syria has meant spending months or years in a tent camp. In Sikkeh, near Lebanon’s border with Israel, where many Palestinian Syrians took refuge, Fatima’s family spent a year living in a vacant lot of more than 80 tents, made of nylon sheets, curtains and blankets, that were no match for the freezing cold or flooding. Scabies, hepatitis and lice were common.Children suffered from diarrhea and frequent illnesses. One baby in the camp died.

Fatima remembers the day she, her husband and four children moved from the tent into a room in an apartment building that has been renovated with the help of MCC and other agencies. “People thought I was going to go crazy, I was so happy,” she says. “I was so done with mice and rodents. At least here we have a little dignity.”

“Dignity,” he husband adds, “Is when a person lives in his own home. This is my own home, my children around me.”

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People on the move The violence in Syria not only stresses everyone’s need for food, shelter and jobs, it has left emotional wounds on some of the most vulnerable. Imagine what is was like for 13-year-old Raana and her 9-year-old broth Aamil, the day militants broke into their school in Homs and forced them to lie face down on the floor for hours. The next day, the family left their newly furnished four-room house and fled to Lebanon. The house was destroyed two months later.

In Beirut, they found a tin-roofed room atop an apartment building, and evenually House of Light and Hope.

This ministry of the Greek Orthodox Church focuses on helping girls, partly to shelter them from the possibility of exploitation as they try to earn money for their desperate families. Raana’s mother brought her daughter there for educational and social activities, but Raana was withdrawn. “She wouldn’t speak to any girls her age and she ‘didnt want to meet new people,” he mother remembers. “She shut herself away.”

A social worker sat with Raana every day and a psychologist helped her work through the trauma that was crushing her spirit. After about six months, Raana began to come out of her shell and participate in social activities. She even started attending extra classes to help her succeed in Lebanese schools.

“Without that, I would have been lost.

They stood beside us,” says Raana’s mother, who also joined a women’s support group and will soon start job training.

Bit by bit, Syrian parents like Raana’s mother are stitching together a patchwork of resources they can wrap around their families in the midst of these hard times.

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Tim Schmucker The heat and humidity were at its peak that early afternoon in rural Nicaragua, Central America, so we sought a bit of relief under a tree to eat lunch. I was a 20-year-old Mennonite university student, visiting peasant families who were participants in a Mennonite Central Committee development project an hour south of the capital Managua. The MCC worker I was with had told me to be prepared for visible misery, as crops had been meagre for years and development efforts non-existent. All due to deeply rooted poverty and oppression.

This is 1978, so the Sandinista Revolution, while growing strong in northern Nicaragua, hadn’t reached the central west area where we were. There were, however, many many sympathisers, both rural and urban, both poor and middle class. Only the oligarchy still supported the entrenched dictator. Nicaragua had had enough –– basta ya!! –– enough of the ruthless dictator family, the Somozas, who had ruled Nicaragua for 50 years with the unwavering support of the USA, treating the country like their personal fiefdom.

Lunch that afternoon was the main meal for the peasant family who hosted me. Their only meal. A young family. Little children; I don’t remember how many. Rice and beans –– gallo pinto –– with a sugar cane drink. My plate had a fried egg. It was enough for a light lunch, for me. How they were going to make it until breakfast, I had no idea.

On the way back to Managua, the MCC worker asked me if I had noticed that my plate was the only one with an egg. No, I hadn’t, I replied. He continued: That was the only one the family had for that day. They gave it to you, their guest. And yet I was a gringo, from the USA, the imperialist country that had controlled their country since the mid‐1800s, either via proxy dictators or by the occupying Marines. And the past half century had been particularly brutal under the puppet Somoza regime. And that peasant family gave me, a gringo from the USA, a resident alien in Nicaragua, their only egg.

Exodus 23.9: You shall not oppress a resident alien; you know the heart of an alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt.

Matthew 25: Jesus dividing the sheep and the goats: “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me.... Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger? ...

And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

AGM: business with a little mayhem

All work and no play does not make for a fun Annual General Meeting. So when attendees broke from talk of budgets and such on Feb. 21, the toga-clad youth treated us to spaghetti and a classical (sort of) mystery. We’re Mennonites, after all, so no murder was involved –– just the nefarious theft of the sweets cart.

Funds raised will help send the youth to the Mennonite World Conference Assembly in Pennsylvania this summer.

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AGM: business with a little mayhem

During a loud angry commotion, dessert has disappeared. The crime is revealed publicly, along with the fact that the thief wore a red cape. Not I, says one suspect, showing no red. But the cape is found hidden at his feet, the thief is captured, the sweets returned. And all ends well as TUMY’s somewhat dishevelled Greek chorus members celebrate their success –– and repair to the kitchen for cleanup duty.

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Mentoring Sunday

A service featuring mentors and mentees was part of a rich day on Jan. 25 celebrating intergenerational connectedness. Kids too young for TUMC’s mentor program learned about the importance of partnerships with an analogy to skiing (centre left).

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At TUMC, it’s hip to be square

An old-fashioned afternoon of fun was in store for folks who lingered for a bounteous potluck, followed by square dancing with expert instruction that soon had young and old alike doing the do-si-do. The afternoon, a great break from January’s cold and gloom, was planned by the Congregational Life Committee.

Photos by Tim Schmucker

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At TUMC, it’s hip to be square

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Scene around TUMC Clockwise from right: Youth give a report on the MCEC retreat on Feb. 22, unveiling a banner featuring some of their reflections on the theme. On Feb.1 the communion table was set with, yes, cookies –– part of a children’s story on the concept of hospitality. Geoff Wichert and a merry band of players lead congregational singing on Feb. 22. Alak Heise and Athieng Mabek sing during the offering time on Jan. 25.

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Aurora House: a progress report

I

f you missed the Annual General Meeting on Feb. 21, here’s an update on progress in funding and planning for the programs to be offered at Aurora House, TUMC’s ministry to victims of human trafficking, drawn from Christy Langschmidt’s presentation. (This is separate from the planning and funding of the house renovation.)

Accomplishments so far: • With the help of TUMC’s congregation our working group selected a name and a logo and 3 founding members to form what became the incorporated not-forprofit Aurora House.

• Our board grew quickly and with the help of advisors like Aldred Neufeldt we Part of the Aurora House ‘Dream Team’: were able to hammer out a vision, mission, Marilyn Zehr, Christy Langschmidt, Lisa Horrocks and Mary Klein. our values and our by-laws!

• We opened a bank account at the Mennonite Savings and Credit Union.

Our Dream Team (a.k.a. board): • We held our first fundraising meeting that was very well attended even • Christy Langschmidt though many who were interested were unable to attend.

(Chair and Treasurer) • We started a Facebook page: AuroraHouse.ca • Mary Klein (Vice-Chair) • Lisa Horrocks (Secretary) Our vision: All those harmed from human trafficking and exploitation • Shelly D’Mello, Director of receive the support and care they require to flourish.

Mennonite New Life Centre • Bruce Burgetz Our mission: To provide community-based housing and support serv• Marilyn Zehr, Ex officio as ices that empower people who have been trafficked and exploited in pastor of TUMC Canada to thrive in society.

• Mythri Vijendran, Anti-Human Trafficking Activist Our values: •We value human dignity and the worth of all persons and are committed to operating within an anti-oppression framework.

We value diverse culture, traditions and spiritual beliefs within the community.

•We value the Anabaptist-Mennonite tradition that strives toward a more just and peaceful world.

• We value a holistic approach that promotes healing and hope for the physical, emotional, mental and spiritual needs of each person.

• We value the voice of community members in making decisions for their individual lives and their community.

• We value partnership and collaboration with other groups who are addressing the needs of people victimized by human trafficking.

Loly Rico from FCJ Refugee Centre (Faithful Companions of Jesus) will likely be taking Mythri’s place on our board over the next few weeks.

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Aurora House: a progress report Costs and fundraising goals: • We hope to open our doors in early fall of 2015.

• We estimate our first year start-up and operating costs will be about $201,000 and subsequent years will cost $182,000 to run at full capacity.

• Our first Goal is to raise $201,469 by March 2016.

Interim targets: -By August 2015 raise $72,480 (start-up + first three months operating) -By November 2015 raise another $56,257 (next 4 months) - By March 2016 raise an additional $72,730 (next five months) Grants: • We have submitted a letter of inquiry to the Catherine Donnelly Foundation and should hear by March 13 if we will be invited to submit a full funding application for $65,000.

• We plan on submitting several other large grant requests over the next few months, including oneto the Shantz Mennonite ChurchBequest Earnings Disbursement Fund.

MNLCT is working (with help from Crystal Penner) on a grant to the federal government’s “Justice Fund” that could subsidize our programming costs significantly while not restricting who we are able to serve.

• With fundraising just beginning toward a goal of $201,469, the first seeds gathered total $1,235.

Next steps: Obtain charitable status: With our by-laws finally complete we are moving quickly to submit our charitable application in so we no longer need to work under TUMC’s umbrella.

• Launch Aurora House website • Our robust fundraising group (we have over 26 energetic volunteers) are working in four key areas: - Corporate Donors - Fundraising Events - Grants - Donations for the house renovation • Members of our board, along with key MNLCT staff, have begun and will continue intensive Human Trafficking training.

• We will begin to map out policies, a process of admission, comprehensive programming and methods of evaluation.

• We will continue to work with the growing anti-trafficking network in Toronto and across Canada to forge partnerships, share best practices and create roads for referrals.

• We will continue to look for God’s guidance as we seek to fulfill his plan in this work.

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Coming Events at TUMC March 8 - Lent III March 15 - Lent IV March 22 - Lent V March 29 - Lent VI April 3 - Good Friday - Family service and evening service April 5 - Easter Sunday - including a sunrise service at Ashbridges Bay (NO Taize service) April 11 - MCEC Bible quizzing May 10 - ecumenical service of hymns and prayer at St. Aidan in the Beach Anglican Church at 4:30 p.m.

June 12-14 - TUMC retreat at Silver Lake Mennonite Camp