Doug Luginbill participated in Mennonite Action’s All God’s Children March for a Ceasefire in July. He reflects on journey.
Doug Luginbill is a member of First Mennonite Church, Bluffton, Ohio, and serves as conference minister of the Central District Conference. He has served the Mennonite church in administrative and pastoral positions for 35 years.
______________________________________________
I thought I was going to Washington, D.C., to join a demonstration, but I found myself in church!
That is the best way I have found to describe my experiences with the Mennonite Action event, All God’s Children March for a Ceasefire. From July 18-28, at least 25 people — which swelled to 125 by the end — participated in a minimum of one day of the 135-mile march from Harrisonburg, Virginia, to Washington, D.C. I joined the group on Friday evening, July 26, for the final 22 miles, which ended with a service of lament with the White House in the foreground. I remained in D.C. through July 30, participating in various actions coordinated by Mennonite Action and various interfaith organizations.
I had two main reasons for participating in the march and activities. First, I continue to be overwhelmed by the tremendous loss of life, property and humanity experienced by Israeli and Palestinian families since October 7, 2023, … and for decades before. Hearing the personal stories of loss and death from both Jewish and Palestinian voices, I wanted to do something to lend my voice to the many calling for a ceasefire in Gaza. The third verse of John L. Bell’s prophetic song, “If the war goes on,” rang in my ears. “If the war goes on and the daily bread is terror, and the voiceless poor take the road as refugees; when a nation’s pride destines millions to be homeless, who will heed their pleas?” (Sing the Journey 66).
My second reason was to observe, listen and pay attention to the motivations, coordination and spirit of this new Mennonite, grassroots movement. How did this come together so quickly, and why are so many Mennonites choosing to participate. What is “Mennonite” about this action?
So, I took some vacation days and set out on what I expected to be a season of chaotic feather-rustling, prophetic proclamation and Mennonite edge-dancing at the boundaries of our church-state-separation theology.
What I experienced was church, a gathered community with a common mission rooted in God’s love.
My working definition of the purpose of the church is: to celebrate and bear witness to the creative and transformative wisdom of God’s love. Again and again, throughout my four days there, I found both celebration and witness-bearing among this ever-changing, diverse gathering of God’s people.
For my first two nights there, we were hosted by two non-Mennonite churches, just outside of D.C. There was something comforting and grounding about being offered shelter and sanctuary by strangers. With 30 or so souls spread out across the fellowship hall, the occasional snort or air-mattress adjustments provided a choir of disruption and comfort. I knew very few of these sleeping friends, but I felt at home. It was kind of like church camp.
After a hearty breakfast, the morning routine began with circle time. Introductions, prayers, poetry, reflection, song and silence centered and grounded us for the day. Announcements and instructions prepared us mentally and emotionally for what was to come. The collaboration between leaders, volunteer coordinators and participants flowed smoothly. Questions were answered with respect and reassurance. The “worship planners” had thought through both the message and the logistics, resulting in an experience that was welcoming and participatory by all. The chaos I expected never reared its head.
The hours of walking down the sidewalks of Fairfax and Falls Church, Virginia, provided opportunity for conversation, fellowship, more singing and silent reflection. Our banners proclaimed the sermon; “Mennonites for a Ceasefire,” “God Loves Every Child-No Exceptions,” “Send Food not Bombs,” “Let Gaza Live” and “Biden-Open Your Eyes.” Peace doves flapped in the wind, emblazoned on numerous flags. The response to the sermon, as is typically the case, received both honks of support and appreciation, along with an occasional gesture of disapproval.
Yet preachers preach to the end, keeping their eye on the vision of the beloved community, the shalom of God’s love.
The last day of the march drew additional participants, some of whom had marched earlier, others joining for the final journey to the seats of national power. In a park, across the lawn of the White House, others met us and joined in a service of lament.
We heard testimonies from those who knew the personal stories of death and destruction in Gaza. We heard Palestinian poetry of despair and hope. We sang hymns. We lit candles, as prayers for peace. We anointed one another with the oil of lament and courage.
I was asked to offer a closing prayer. “What is this place?” I asked the gathered community. “We are here for a common purpose and a united mission. We are here to pray and to sing. We are here to lament and call for an end to war. Some might call this place ‘church.’ There is a verse, Ephesians 3:10, that proclaims, ‘Through the church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in high places.’ May our prayers, songs and actions be heard and observed by those in high places.”
As I departed, with the song “There is More Love Somewhere” still ringing in my ears, I felt at home among these mostly strangers, even in the shadows of rulers and authorities.
Did our eleven-day march, our prayers and petitions, our provocations and prophetic witness make a difference? We, who are pastors and leaders in the church, often ask that question, at least in our minds, if not out loud. Does worship matter? Does preaching change hearts and minds? Do songs and prayers simply float off into space without effect? Are these quilts enough?
God’s Holy Spirit gave birth to the church, a community of wisdom, called to celebrate and bear witness to God’s creative and transformative love! I’m learning that church has many manifestations, a rich variety of gathered communities. The Holy Spirit cannot be contained within a building, a polity or a people. This wisdom of God doesn’t always make sense to rulers and authorities in high places. Yet I still believe the church, in all its beauty and brokenness, remains a place of celebration and witness. As Mennonites, this witness is non-violent and becoming richer in its variety and diversity. Just as the farmer in Jesus’ parable scatters seeds generously and broadly, the church is called to scatter seeds of God’s love (see Matthew 13:1-23; Luke 8:4-15; Mark 4:1-20).
The words from a Walking Roots Band song also ring in my ear (Voices Together 777):
“These seeds you have sown
In our hearts and in our bones,
Cover them with your love.
Use our hands, use our feet,
To show your love and your peace.
And cover us, cover us, cover us with love.”
The views and opinions expressed in this blog belong to the author and are not intended to represent the views of the MC USA Executive Board or staff.
Interested in submitting a blog for Menno Snapshots? Please see our blog guidelines here.