Foot-washing

Maundy Thursday is coming, and with it the annual (or semi-annual) washing of the feet. Of all the things today’s modern Mennonites do, this may be the one that freaks newcomers (and even some oldcomers) out the most. “You want me to do what?”

Foot-washing is completely biblical and since Jesus did it, Mennonites like to do it, too. But it’s weird. It involves feet. It involves other people’s feet.

And there isn’t really any actual washing in foot-washing. Just some scooping of water over feet that have been cleaned and prepped in advance. Sometimes women wear knee high stockings and leave them on, so there’s no touching of actual skin. (This is old school).

The last part of foot-washing is the hug. This can be awkward, but it’s important to watch out for. You don’t want someone coming at you for hugging when you’re not expecting it.

Oh, and mixed genders? No. Unless you go to small house church, then maybe you’ll be washing the feet of someone of the opposite sex. But in most churches, women are with women (possibly in the basement) and men are with men. The men are faster.

Foot-washing, like most Mennonite things, is very optional. You don’t have to do it. And some churches have abandoned the practice all together, because it’s weird (post on this to follow).

But if you can get past the weirdness and appreciate the symbolism, it’s pretty sweet.

Sharing time

Mennonites love the idea of community. And what better way to build community than giving everyone access to a microphone and letting them talk?

Sometime during a Mennonite church service, the pastor or worship leader will open the floor for the sharing of “prayer requests and praise reports" or "joys and concerns." And anyone who wants to can raise their hand, get a mike, and start sharing. Details about illnesses, pregnancies, engagements, travels, spiritual battles, your schedule from the previous week . . . it’s all fair game.

This can lead to some awkward moments. Do we really need to know about your sister-in-law’s friend’s ruptured uterus? But sharing time can also lead to some really genuine community support.

Another part of sharing time is introducing visitors. Boy, do people love to do this. Especially older people. Getting a whole pew full of your friends and family, making them stand up, naming them all for the rest of the church? Definitely a good time.

Sharing time is a mixed blessing. Every Mennonite church attendee could probably give you awkward examples of people who overshared and of the crazy characters who hog the microphone every week. But community is also a mixed blessing. You take the good and the bad and learn to deal.

The Mennonite Game

If you’ve spent any time with so-called “ethnic” (i.e. Swiss German or Russian) Mennonites, you’ve noticed some weird and freaky connections happening.

If you stranded a group of Mennonites who didn’t really know each other on a desert island, the first thing they would do is figure out how they were all connected and who was related to whom. Once that was out of the way, they could get around to the less critical business of food, water, shelter, etc.

The uncovering and discovering of these familial connections is called The Mennonite Game. And those family genealogy books that Mennonites put on their shelves? Simply guides for better playing.

Mennonite Game Rules for Play

To Start
Approach a person you’ve never met before at church or at a Mennonite event. If it’s your home church, you are responsible for the approach and friendly greeting. If it’s a neutral site, either party can approach the other. Hands are generally shaken—if they aren’t full of a bible, binder, book, bulletin, etc.

Note: if you are not on your home turf – for example, if this is your first visit to a strange church – you might notice the person who’s greeting you looking at you oddly. This is because they’re trying to figure out if you’ve ever actually BEEN to the church before and if they know you. It’s best, if you notice this puzzled look, to quickly offer your name and why you are visiting.

To Play
A standard Mennonite Game exchange might go like this:
James: Hi, I’m James Miller.
Karen: I’m Karen Martin.
James: Nice to meet you, Karen. Where are you from?
Karen: I live in Lancaster.*
James: Oh, great. I know some folks in Lancaster. Where do you go to church?
Karen: Typical Mennonite Church (note: not a real church)
James: *nods* Ah, yes. Maybe you know my cousin, Paul Lehman. He attended there a few years ago.
Karen: Oh, of course! Paul’s daughter Linda is married to my best friend’s brother.
James: You mean Doug Weaver?
Karen: Yes. They live down the street from me.
*end scene*

This is only one small connection of the many that Karen and James will no doubt uncover before they have to go to Sunday school (or rather, before James goes to Sunday school and Karen bails, because who wants to go to Sunday school at a strange new church?)

Once you have mastered the standard exchange, you are free to deviate from it and work outside the lines.

*Regular players will not need anymore clarification than this. If you say Lancaster in the Mennonite game, you mean Lancaster, PA.

Note: If you wish to be polite, but aren’t feeling the connection, simply learn to say “The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.” This allows you to stay in the game, but puts an end to a particular line of questioning—provided, of course, your partner is willing to give up and isn’t a hardcore player who’s bound and determined to find a connection SOMEWHERE.

*

The argument against the Mennonite game, and it’s a good one, is that it excludes those who can’t play. And this is true. If you’re not from a Mennonite background, if you grew up in a city that’s not really connected with the larger church, if you just hate talking about your nutball family – well, you’re probably not going to enjoy or appreciate the game.

And that leads to the kind of overall question behind this blog: What makes a Mennonite, well, Mennonite?

Coming Soon!