European Baptist Federation

Laying under the stars at a Bedouin-owned camp in the Jordanian dessert of Wadi Rum, our host took us on a journey through the constellations as seen through the eyes of those who have lived by their wisdom for generations. How do you find your way when technology fails you if you do not know where true north is and how to find it? Do you know the names of the stars and how to use them to find the north star so that you might be guided home, or so that you can direct your mat to kneel in prayer?

“We cannot fully trust what human hands have made”, our guide said. It is to the created order and to the Creator, that we must look to find that true north.

A few days passed by from my time stargazing, and I found myself sat about to share communion with Baptists from across Europe, the Middle East, and Central Asia. Around three hundred of us are gathered on a dozen round conference tables, the quintessential small cups filled with grape juice rest in their tray on the raised stage to which we all face; the bread, not little cubes but Arabic-style flatbread that is to be torn to share. Those presiding, three men of a similar age, having just heard from the few women to have a platform during this conference, on the importance of women and men sharing in God’s work together. This gift of bread and wine, offered imperfectly by an imperfect church, because “we cannot fully trust what human hands have made.”

It is painful to share in the Lord’s Supper in such a space, knowing that many there do not believe that there is a space at the table for me, or that my female colleagues in ministry are not truly called to their vocation. It is painful and frankly anger-inducing to hear theology shared from the stage in times of gathered worship that reduces women to commodities to be given. It is painful to be ignored by those who know who you are and know who you love. It is painful for the tradition you hold dear to be reduced to soundbites, times of worship to be reduced to singing songs of questionable theology, and opportunities for prayer to be reduced to the human agenda.

Yet, as “we cannot fully trust what human hands have made”, we must instead turn our eyes to that which holds the mark of Creator God. Through the challenging times there were these marks – signs of the Divine moving amongst and alongside the human failings. There were opportunities for genuine and hope-filled connection: meetings with Baptists from other quarters of the globe who too dream of a bigger table; conversations with those who have experienced exclusion in their local context for even beginning to consider a more generous, love-oriented theology; and the prophetic act of taking up space in an at times hostile environment.

We come away from such encounters always bearing the marks in our hearts and on our souls, for better and for worse. Yet, I also came away from this time in Jordan with the wisdom of the Bedouin resounding in my mind, and knowing deep down that Creator God is always at work so that even when “we cannot fully trust what human hands have made”, we can instead trust the power of the Divine at work through and alongside those failings. Praise be to God for such grace.

Revd Luke Dowding