Grace and Truth: A word from pastors

Two years ago, several women pulled brightly colored balaclavas over their heads and ran before the altar of Moscow’s Christ the Savior Cathedral. Someone pushed “play” on a stereo, and they began their dancing, yelling protest against church and government corruption and their repression of women, gay men and poor people generally.

The activists alternated between their irate version of Rachmaninoff’s usually reverent choral masterpiece, “Rejoice, O Virgin,” and political rants yelled over a bass guitar and drums. Their “punk prayer” earned them the charge of “hooliganism motivated by religious hatred” and a 24-month prison sentence.

As someone who loves the church and freedom of speech and separation of church and state and Rachmaninoff—and whose Anabaptist ancestors came through Russia and the Ukraine—I am fascinated by the protests of this collective of women known as Pussy Riot.

I contemplate these young women who fear for the future of their country and their rights within it, and try to put myself in their place. When the head of their church says Putin is “a miracle from God” even as he’s known to be corrupt and indifferent to democracy and human rights, they are wise to question whether the church is speaking faithfully to those on the margins of society and in the seats of power. I also put myself in the place of the Russian Orthodox faithful who worship, eat meals and read the Bible together, just as I do.

I imagine a group of anonymous protesters barging into the sanctuary of my church, singing “Praise God from whom all hypocrisy flows” and then posting it to YouTube alongside a list of complaints about the Mennonite church. The church is wise to question the motives of such noise-makers.

In the run-up to the Sochi Olympics, Russia granted amnesty to several political prisoners, including two from the punk-rock band. Every Olympics prompts the host country to try to impress visitors by “tidying up” the surface of things, whether by building a gigantic high-tech stadium, getting rid of homeless persons living in the area, or improving its human rights reputation. Let us not be fooled by appearances— neither Russia’s nor our own.

Mennonites were drawn to Russia 200 years ago by Catherine the Great’s offer of free land and free expression of faith—100 years before the Orthodox cathedral in Moscow was built. Those Mennonites could not have imagined the political antics of this punk-rock band, but they wanted the same freedom.

“Punk prayers” were then and still are necessary for the well-being of the church and the world. If we take “punk” to refer to “punk rock,” with its loud and aggressive style, we might consider adding volume and insistence to our prayers for justice, freedom and safety for all people and all creation.

Last December’s Advent texts reminded us of John the Baptist, who wore outlandish clothing and proclaimed—loudly—the need for repentance and justice in a first-century Jewish punk prayer: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance” (Matthew 3:7b-8).

If we take “punk” to refer to the glowing stick used to light fireworks, what might our prayers ignite in us, in the church or in the world? What complacency or apathy toward suffering and injustice needs to be burned away?

John the Baptist describes Jesus’ ministry in flaming terms: “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire” (Matthew 3:11b-12).

John’s words shock and frighten his listeners—including this listener 2,000 years later. What sins must I confess to be ready for the Savior? What chaff within me will he burn away? And what of the institutional sins and social chaff we cling to? Those who protest injustice in balaclavas on the altars of our churches are pressing the same questions John did, though in secular terms.

I’ll enjoy watching the winter Olympics this year, as I do every four years. This year, I pray for grace to look beneath the surface for the “punk prayers” being uttered on the streets and in the churches, within stadiums and parliaments, and wherever justice and freedom are sought by those brave enough to speak out.

Sara Dick is pastor at Shalom Menno­nite Church in Newton, Kan.