Autobiography for Dorothy
October 8, 2020
Family/Hospitality
I was born in a funeral home! My parents—Herman M. and Bessie King Yoder of rural, Kalona, Iowa—effectively met the public of a small town through a modest funeral business. They modeled ministry to people in need; our living room informally became public space. They both were graduated from a two-year college in Hesston, Kansas. We four children (myself the third) could use our home’s “back stairway” or make “bread soup” meals when both parents had professional duties to perform or friends of the deceased came to ‘view.’ My tasks with the funeral-cum-ambulance business were to uncover and open/close the caskets or wash the hearse. Aware of speed needed to respond to an ambulance call, I also sensed the interplay of life with death. I will always be grateful that my parents exposed me firsthand to this reality.1 Both parents have now died, Mother twenty years after my father. She addressed five hundred alumni of Hesston College on the occasion of her 80th class reunion.
To observe parental compassion and ease with people in grief left me uncertain about that skill until I had the privilege of working with Central Christian Church (Disciples) in Elkhart, Indiana, during a seminary year of CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education). Assigned to grief ministry with that congregation, I learned the difference between intent to say the “right thing” and genuine interest in hearing and responding to what a person in grief reveals. Related principles of listening enable interreligious dialogue, I now discover.
CPE, a significant segment of seminary training, enabled self-learning, insight into death and grief, stimulation through planning Grief Team meetings, and counseling skills. My ability to recall verbatim accounts of conversations impressed my supervisor. Basic CPE proved to me that I am “a priest,” whether or not the title would ever be ‘ordained.’ By then, being a prophet came ‘naturally’ too.
My parents came from two very different families—one as quiet as the other conversant. Mother, from a family with nine children, lived in a small college town with exposure to drama, debate, and music events. My father and his four siblings were not ‘permitted’ to attend high school until they were age 21. With degrees from a Mennonite junior college, my parents became leaders in their rural Iowa community. As with Mother’s family, they hosted many friends, for meals and overnight.
John and I have followed this pattern of hosting people, notably friends from India, Nepal, and Sri Lanka in addition to local folk. To live during the coronavirus pandemic reveals how much we value inviting people for curry meals, how limits to having guests is a negative. Guests often remark about the conversations that take place during those occasions. At times we value bringing near-strangers together; other groups have similar interests. While John is the primary cook at the stove, I do more of the chopping of veggies, getting the table ‘spread’ or broader setting ready. Curries generally are valued by western guests; college students from Asia tend to devour them. To prepare curries, in part due to my summer vegetable garden supply, costs fewer dollars than other meals would. The gift of hospitality has been reciprocated. For example, during eleven weeks of travel in seven South Asian countries in 1993, we spent nights in only two hotels. From my journal I recall: “We . . . had quality time with families of over twenty students who have attended Goshen College.”
Another parental influence was community involvement. My father served on different boards—local insurance, telephone company, bank, and church committees. Both parents were adult Sunday School teachers, Mother for over fifty years. From her, I learned that study of the biblical text is time-worthy though the resources that we rely on differ. Also valued as a public speaker, she never, however, advocated the “cause of women.” That role has been mine to carry, more aware that my liberation relates to freedoms and rights for my sisters (broadly speaking) and neighbors.
High school and college years, all eight in Mennonite schools, were pleasant for me. With only forty-some high school classmates, we knew each other well. Told that I could no doubt “turn a car around on a dime,” I enjoyed sports. Not only did I ably cover shortstop as an eighth grader on my local town’s women’s team, my gift to myself on completing the MDiv degree at age forty-two was to play on a summer team with women much younger.
I thought of college life at Goshen College, Goshen, Indiana, as divided into thirds—one third each for academics, friendships and dorm life, and sports, music and organizations. I was fortunate to play with the first women’s basketball team allowed to play other colleges. John and I co-chaired the all-campus Fellowship committee one year. Then our ‘dating’ occurred largely through two years of correspondence prior to marriage in August 1961. My first two years of employment found me back for a year each to Iowa Mennonite School (secondary) to teach English and Physical Education and to Goshen College—to be head resident of a women’s dorm.
Parenting children involves relating and friendship, power with not over another, insight into the ordinary, and value in the process. With few regrets toward our two adult daughters, I still contend that mothering, for which one has little training, involves solid work. It brings pleasure like the shift from reading lots of books to them to their suggesting authors whom I should read. Finding a balance between minimal control and wise freedom, strong encouragement and gentle nudging, their self-confidence and care for others comes not through textbooks. Their development, relatively free of ‘oughts,’ proved pleasurable to watch. So were Lynda’s piano and viola talents and Gretchen’s body and energy control of near-gliding across a soccer field. Their advocate, I have valued watching their choice of friends and foods, seeing their teenage worldview expand through a half year in India plus travel in Europe, and observing how their verbal, numerical, and written competence enabled competent teaching. Their partners enrich us too—J-D an engineering professor and LaDene an OB/GYN doctor. Grandson John-Paul has added diverse skills, growth patterns, and hours of game-playing for us all.
Three aspects filled more than a decade for me: parenting, seminary study, and research-writing-speaking on feminist themes. I would not wish to have missed any or the combination. An Old Testament course first drove me into feminist agenda. For a major project, I chose to chart every reference to a woman (named or not) in the books of Deuteronomy through II Kings. I discovered that “the half has never yet been told”! I determined to help tell that half. Why note-taking, organizing ideas or materials, and writing paragraphs consume time for me is due, in part, to the significant breaks that absorb me in reflection, including Divine Direction.
In contrast to the more limited writing by women scholars prior to 1971, what appears in print since then excites me. The biblical text has new life through women’s stories and insight into their/our experience. Because we no longer feel limited to how men interpret or define us and due to mentors like Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza, Phyllis Trible, Rosemary Radford Ruether, Letty Russell, Elizabeth Johnson and many others. Those writers have had a profound influence on me. Further, the RE-Imagining conference in Minneapolis in 1993 rejuvenated me. That event with two thousand attending confirmed women’s strength of networking. Conference organization amazed me. Solid biblical scholars, theologians, and preachers presented content so ably. I also quite valued hearing “Sweet Honey in the Rock” perform one night.
Most of my writing for MDiv courses (taken part-time over eighteen semesters) centered in women’s experience—whether for Medieval or Reformation history, the Ephesians 5:21ff text in Greek, or a course at Episcopal Divinity School on Ordination. Although I have chosen not to be ordained, beyond what I (and all) know through adult baptism as Anabaptists, I valued the course taught by Suzanne Hiatt and Carter Heyward, two of the Episcopalian women priests who had been ordained “irregularly.” My interreligious interest took deeper root when writing and seeing through production of a one-act play of the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well and through a study of all references to worship of female divine figures appearing in the prophetic book of Jeremiah. The professor of Jeremiah took my research paper seriously—via nine pages of hand-written notes! Most of these papers appear elsewhere in this Web site.
Three years lived in India from 1962-65 truly whetted my intrigue with the cross-cultural and interreligious. Teaching at Woodstock School in the Himalayan foothills, then primarily a school for children of missionaries of many denominations, we learned about ecumenical Christianity. In India, we also experienced Christianity as a minority—less than three percent of India’s population—a valued teaching ‘tool.’ I read books, especially about Hinduism’s complexity. While on vacation, we visited temples and places holy for diverse major faith traditions. I sensed the all-pervasive, religious dimension of life in India. And I pondered a Sri Lankan theologian’s belief: “Asia will always remain a non-Christian continent.” [I later served eight years on the Mennonite Church Mennonite Board of Missions, as chair of the Overseas Committee for five.]
Living in India helped me to believe that the Ultimate (like Yahweh or Allah) uses varied ways to gain and hold our attention. If my Hindu guest does not come to the breakfast table without doing rituals with water or incense, I silently thank the name and form of God most meaningful to me as well as for my friend’s religious faithfulness. If I tell friends of an upcoming surgery, I can depend that a Hindu will express intent to pray for me. That person’s communion with her form or name for the Divine take on meaning for me.
Through ritual observance and reading, I resonate with Asian spirituality, its two key features: openness to the experience of other spiritual traditions and engagement in society’s struggles with poverty. Steps to value the context of other religions include: 1) being firmly grounded in my own religion, 2) trying to understand elements from other traditions not known in mine, 3) integrating those elements that enable greater Christian wholeness.
Learning from Zen Buddhism can enrich me; its way of life states “Show me!” Compassion for those who suffer prompt Buddhist “sublime states” of benevolence, joy, joyous sympathy, and equanimity. Seven steps to reconciliation practiced by monks can aid more universal situations. Asian Christians remind us: “A liberation theology in India cannot be Christian. It would have to be interreligious.”2
Spirituality within Hindu thought and experience calls for participation in the world’s realities. It expects to address problems through solidarity practiced to enhance life. Further, Hindus long to see, to have darsan with, or envision God. For them, an image makes the presence of God available. Whereas Christians presume to negate “idolatry,” Hindu adherents encounter God in three ways, through devotion (as through private puja), knowledge, and action (work, or selfless service).
Through conviction and acts of compassion, through dialogue between people of living faiths, hope grows. Through people’s engagement with similar and different views, more peaceful existence can follow. Through honest, open sharing, people disclose what gives life meaning. And if a ritual act meaningful to another nearly offends my sense of decency (as might near-naked sadhu—‘holy’ men—‘clothed’ in ash), then an extra dose of Divine grace may be needed. As I struggle to name or define, but not limit, God; as I claim Jesus’ call to extend God’s Kin-dom or Way; as I meet new neighbors in or beyond Goshen, I choose to promote peace, be antagonized, or act with indifference.
To have useful friendships with fine Indians, not limited to Christians, is a gift. Each year adds to the composite as Asian students with heritage in diverse faith traditions attend Goshen College. Absorbing ideas from Asian authors, not only western resources, I cross cultures and therefore religions. While I best understand God through Jesus the Christ, my spiritual core wishes not to limit God’s (the Ultimate) breadth of Be-ing as experienced by others. Believing that difference reflects divine Wisdom, my spirituality reflects and is enabled by religious plurality.
Spirituality surfaces in varied ways. When I credit God for recall of something forgotten, when I address Sophia to guide a speaker as she approaches the podium at a Christian feminist conference, Spirit responds Spiritual being is activated when noting a first kick inside my pregnant womb. I may feel gratitude to the Spirit when the woman who cuts my hair confides about her husband’s final hour or when crediting a neat idea that surfaces while writing a paragraph. Convinced that God guides when confronting a male leader’s unjust stereotype, it feels affirmed. That which has spiritual quality, depth, or vision rings true as a Power beyond yet within myself. Indian spirituality so impresses.
I am a learner/teacher, whether in a classroom, pulpit or library. The study of biblical languages instilled in me conviction that scripture is mine to interpret. Other interpreters need to be assessed. Textual assignments enrich—to discover new insight about cultural context, literary features, the history of interpretation, or nuggets of Truth not previously garnered. To value Directed work of crafting material or worship planning motivates me; I enjoyed serving as Worship Coordinator, and Teaching Elder with Campus Cluster of Assembly congregation in Goshen.
Groups of individuals, like college students, have long inspired me. These have included fine seniors in the English IV class that I taught at IMS; women living in GC’s Coffman Hall the year I was “head resident”; outstanding 7th and 8th grade girls who lived in K-Wing dorm at Woodstock School, north India, when I was fortunate to serve as “matron”/alternate parent; students who engaged and worked hard to complete assignments when I taught “Bible and Sexuality” at GC; fellows from grades 8-12 who lived in Phelps dorm at Kodaikanal International School, south India, the year that John and I supervised their dorm life; south Asian students—especially from India, Nepal and Sri Lanka—at Goshen College who join us for curry meals, many of whom retain friendship ever since; and alum students and staff with experience at Woodstock who over the years gather twice-yearly for food and fellowship in Goshen.
My part-time experience as a teacher of biblical or religious content has been with college and seminary students—in the US and India. I taught “Bible and Sexuality” over eighteen years at Goshen College. To observe insight ‘hit’ students, read their research discoveries, or receive “thanks for the influence” notes rewards the effort. To address those who resist a broadened concept of God-ness or who deny bias in their interpreting texts or refusal to look anew at texts that have been hurtful as toward same-sex-oriented Christians calls for time, grace, and energy.
Harvard Professor Diana Eck notes the “presence of the divine in all plurality.” Divinity invades me when gardening—digging in the soil or harvesting crops—in pursuing anecdotes in II Samuel when I create a litany for Sunday’s worship. A sense of the Divine prevails in adjusting the camera lens for a better angle of the sun on a day lily that flowers briefly. So, too, when my 3-year-old bounds through the door saying, “Mommy, I just saw Jesus ride down the street on a bicycle!” Thanking the One God for a curry meal about to be shared with twenty South Asian college students (Hindu, Buddhist, and Christian)—such moments reflect the spiritual.
I critique traditional separation of sexuality from spirituality, the so-called body-spirit split. Spirituality ever-shapes and interacts with sexual being; each can function as either verb or noun. Sexual self is germane to spiritual depth; either can be vulnerable; both involve communication. I strongly recommend two of multiple resources that I used when teaching: James Nelson and Sandra P. Longfellow’s Sexuality and the Sacred (1994) and Leonard Swidler’s early Biblical Affirmations of Woman (1979).
Matters and patterns of authority ever recur. Each child of God is created in goodness and endowed with authority. Throughout life, each is responsible to choose in whom to reinvest a portion of personal authority and for what duration. Being worthy, a recipient of another’s authority then reinvests proportionate power in those who extend it. If reinvestment does not follow, the ‘giver’ responsibly quits extending her or his portion. If children, women and men were convinced of such insight, such constant exchange would re-image power and authority for all. It would energize spiritual being in radical ways. Feminist discussion of power is helpful in books by Carter Heyward, Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza, Letty Russel, and Rebecca Chopp.
I have known conflict in multiple settings. That response follows when issues of injustice surface. The stress of false charges, the pain of mediation mismanaged, or being a ‘scapegoat’ can occur. In many settings, divergent views cannot co-exist. I have written and received memos that confront—organizations and leaders, men and women. After serving as a consultant with a Men Stopping Violence (against women) event for church leaders, I also felt rejected by women when I named how women also violate. After publishing a brief list of basic views related to interreligious dialogue, my Christianity was judged and questioned by a Mennonite seminary president.
But God directs the advocate when driven to confront injustice. Keenly aware that Jesus affirmed women in a society that disliked him for doing so, I also ‘sense’ his affirmation when I speak forth or write what may threaten, men or women. Having experienced “stoppers,” a term coined by Carol Gilligan,3 I try to assess whether statements intend to stifle my voice. We ponder when cautioned by churchmen “to remember injustice without being enslaved by it,” or that “passion about justice can be a form of an absolute,” or that addressing an issue of justice once is enough. Do such warnings illustrate ‘stoppers’ or reflect compassion?
What feminist thought has taught me over the decades divides praxis into spiritual, sexual and survival issues. Friendship with God pervades, but I seldom write about it. Reflection on divine names has enriched personal meaning: Gardner, Arm of Support, Mystery, Lover, Creator Spiritus (often used with Veni/come), Prompter, Comforter, and Amazing Architect. Books titled Diving Deep and Surfacing, Womanspirit Rising, Weaving the Vision, The Spiral Dance, and Between Two Gardens helped both to open and clarify spiritual quest. I especially rejoice with Elizabeth Johnson’s later writing in She Who Is.4
Feminist friends have asked why I stay in the church. Staying permits one to address issues. A mentor has counseled me for meeting those who seem as strongly driven to conserve traditional views as I am to openness to diverse Truth. Concern looks inward and beyond. While Mennonites purport a convincing peace stance, we need help with internal conflict. While national leaders promote peace ‘lingo,’ they destroy life left and right. While neighbors may worship the Ultimate through diverse rituals, fear keeps memory of past hatred near the surface. Having prompted controversy through No Other Name?5 I expect to learn more from diverse writers about practical agenda with conflict.
Some people have described me as ‘complex,’ a valued descriptor. I prefer not to be simple if that implies that others can determine who I am by their standards or criteria. When people find others daunting, worldview often differs. But for growth to occur, views of self, the Divine, neighbor, and world ever evolve. To examine my approach to content, patterns or even others may attend to dimensions such as scripture, love of research, Sophia, personal identity, freedom, and accountability as prophet and priest. Two valued quotes of mine: “Comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” And Virginia Woolf’s insight that has hung by my desk for decades: “To have by nature a point of view, to stick to it, to follow it where it leads, is the rarest of possessions, and lends value even to trifles.”
Since 1962 when John and I first went to India (Mennonite Mission Associates), India and her religious expressions have been of keen interest to me. Writing has been one way to convey that love. Other writing themes include: power, scripture, global women, advocacy, Mennonite history, and family heritage. I have written or edited eleven books, ten booklets (up to eighty pages), fifty-plus published articles, and three packets of articles. Not prolific and often self-published, my book titles include: Which Way Women? Weaving Wisdom: Sermons by Mennonite Women; Strength, Struggle, and Solidarity: India’s Women; Jesus Clear Call to Justice; To See Each Other’s Good; Rooted and Branching: Women Worldwide; Mission Today: Challenges and Concerns; Multifaith Musing: Essays and Exchanges; “Talks that Teach” from Bessie King Yoder 1906-2008; Mennonites Encounter Hinduism: An Annotated Bibliography; and Decades of Feminist Writing. Projects that I prompted—calendars, slide set/video, musical—often involved colleagues.
My first DMin degree (Western Theological Seminary, 1997) culminated in Dialogues to Foster Interreligious Understanding. For that thesis, I imagined and created practical conversations between people who differed. Raised in India and long-time missionary/professor of Religions David Scott served most helpfully as my project “outside reader.” Not to be overlooked are the “Reflection” segments that conclude each dialogue. While my key supervisor supported my effort with dialogue and interreligious openness, six male, Christian Reformed in America, DMin colleagues had had little experience with other faiths. I grew through self-designed courses like study of the Syrophoenician woman’s plight, “Yahweh and his Asherah” content, sacred Hindu women’s stories, feminist theology, and more. To meet a course requirement of doing something totally new, I took footage for and created a thirty-minute video about interreligious issues that I titled “Holy Respect: No Less.” Having taped many extra hours with nearly sixty people, I later created a forty-two-minute video titled “India Kaleidoscope.”
When opportunity came in 1998 to return to India (seventh time for me, with over five years’ total time), we planned for a two-year assignment with ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church of America) at Gurukul Theological Seminary. We looked forward to living in a large city (Chennai, formerly called Madras, with six million). We hoped to get acquainted with CSI (Church of South India), an ecumenical endeavor begun fifty years earlier. We expected to learn Lutheran ‘ways’ of being minority Christians in India. While John had administrative assignments at Gurukul, I agreed to work with two departments: Mission-Ecumenism-Dialogue and Women’s Studies. My listing of tasks completed from June to November is notable.
Unfortunately, John’s assignment with the institution’s ‘head’ did not gel. Suggestions that John made (initially requested by the Director) for better administrative procedures could not be received. Nor could John be a sycophant. Matters deteriorated. Contrary to all previous experience with Indian people, we seriously questioned the personal integrity of working for such a ‘system.’ To protect the Director’s image (major control of Lutheran programs and money throughout India) and not to disclose that our conflict stemmed from John’s counsel/exchanges with the Director, I came to be targeted for ‘amazing’ actions! We were told to return to the States, a tough experience indeed. More could be expressed.
However, we truly valued our time in Chennai: 1) key friendships with our next-door (off campus) neighbor Sarah, our student group that met monthly, and numerous other friends; 2) attending several CSI churches in addition to the Sunday evening worship events on campus; 3) co-editing a book which I saw through publication; 4) hearing fine concerts in classical Chennai; 5) attending several inter-faith meetings; 6) speaking opportunities: five sermons, several discussions with the local YWCA group, five speeches on issues of Peace at the All-India Mennonite Women’s Annual meeting, held not far from Kolkata. The list continues.
During one internal, nighttime flight when living in India, we passengers and crew began to see smoke from the overhead luggage bins. A quiet calmness came over passengers as crew opened all the bins. Waiting before pilots announced plans for a speedy descent to the nearest airport (not our destination), my thoughts emerged: ‘I wonder if this will be my final flight.’ Without panic, I was amazed that a tune and fragments of a song emerged in my head: “. . . and peace attend thee . . . all through the night . . . guardian angels . . .” Phrases kept repeating “. . . God will send thee . . . all through the night.” I could not recall the entire text, nor had I sung the Old Welsh song for perhaps four decades. But there it was—a gift from a Source of calm.
Travel opportunities have been significant. In addition to seven trips to India, we have valued stops in about thirty countries, not in South America or Africa other than Egypt. While I correspond with friends to make plans, John always creates the itinerary or purchases needed tickets. Two Woodstock senior students (Mary Kay and Delbert) and my sister Evie from the US traveled with us for eight weeks on our first return after three years in India in 1965. To see the Statue of Liberty from the air, flying into New York City, prompted a distinct emotion. Travel provides occasions to learn; excerpts from my journals while traveling within India will later appear on the Web.
A positive ecumenical experience followed for me in 2001 when I received a significant grant from the Calvin Institute of Christian Worship (thanks, Lilly Foundation money). I proposed working in Goshen, a town of thirty thousand, to enable ecumenical events and to create appropriate materials. A team from several denominations served my initiatives well. Highlights included connecting with diverse churches in town; a series of 4-Sunday School events on ecumenical themes at my congregation; planning ecumenical worship for Pentecost afternoon, held at the Roman Catholic parish; encouraging respect for three Jewish holy-days; welcoming guest speakers for meals; reading resources; hosting an interreligious booth at an Ethnic Fair; leading a chapel service at Goshen College on saints of varied religions; and writing—an ecumenical booklet about Unity and a resource about diversity for youth. Papers from that year appear on this Web site.
My interreligious effort during the past decades include two audited courses, starting a second DMin study in 2004, and a Buddhist tour in 2012. One course was titled “Conflict Theory and Practice: Interfaith Paths to Peace” and the other “Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations.” With the latter, a course that focused more on Islam in Egypt, I valued attention to law. I realized anew how much a given religion may vary from one country to another. While my interfaith attention focuses more on Hinduism, Buddhism, and Sikhism since first going to India four decades ago, world conditions make knowledge of Islam imperative now too. DMin work at Dayton, Ohio with Professors Paul Knitter and Jay McDaniel, titled “Spirituality, Sustainability, and Interreligious Dialogue,” ended after a year. While interaction with profs and friend Karla Kauffman proved to invigorate, program expectations led to less interreligious focus than I desired. My 2012 tour of Buddhist sites in Sri Lanka was led by Shanta Premawardhana of OMNIA of Chicago. Feeling somewhat isolated in Goshen from people loyal to diverse religions, I look forward to intentional, further study of them.
Reading is not my only hobby. I give considerable time and energy during summer months to vegetable gardening and enjoy photography, particularly of seasonal or striking phenomena. Thanks to John’s technical exploits combined with my editing knack, we created a fifty-minute video using photos that recall our more than forty years of involvement with Hindustan. Our latest achievement involved moving from the house that we owned for 48 years to Goshen’s Greencroft Retirement which allows for writing and Web creation.
I welcome correspondence with people who explore my Web site.