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Pruning, Planting, and Harvesting as Metaphors on Rural Church Life

October 26, 2023 by Conference Office

By Jeff Wright

People often ask me what Mosaic Conference is like. How can a rural/suburban cluster of churches in southeast Pennsylvania provide anything meaningful to churches in Florida, New Jersey, Vermont, and California? What holds us together in a season of disintegration and polarization?

Though I have spent nearly four decades living in southern California, with its morning rush hour and beloved freeways, I have found my time in rural-suburban southeastern Pennsylvania to provide new ways of responding to these questions. Three rural metaphors help me to understand and appreciate the work of Mosaic Conference.

First, we aren’t afraid to prune that which isn’t fruitful. For years, Mosaic has been laboring to become more formational (centered in Christ), intercultural (united by Christ), and missional (inviting others to Christ). These are our priorities. Nothing else is as important. Pruning and transplanting create healthier and stronger crops.

Second, we aren’t afraid to plant new crops. I had no idea before coming to Pennsylvania that there is a difference between sweet corn and seed corn. Apparently, some land is suited for one and some land for the other. The hard work is finding out what your soil supports best. In Mosaic Conference, we are planting a variety of churches and Conference-Related Ministries (CRMs). Rather than conforming to a unified set of behaviors, our churches and CRMs are committed to common values–centered in Christ, united by Christ, and inviting others to Christ. For our churches and CRMs to grow these values, we need to be pioneers and try new things. And, very likely, to fail sometimes.

Pruning and planting are risky businesses. We fear we may whack away too much. We worry that planting something new may be an inadequate return on our investment, which leads to a third metaphor.

We harvest not based on hard work but on abundant prayer. We can plant the best seed, in the straightest rows, using topflight equipment and state of the art fertilizer, but unless it rains abundantly, mixed with warm sunshine, there won’t be much harvest. Prayer is our rain and sun. When we pray, our work is multiplied and our pruning and planting turn into an abundant harvest.

Doing church is a risky business. Staying focused on who God is calling us to be, and pruning away what is not part of that call takes courage. Planting new ways of staying centered in Christ, united by Christ, and inviting others to Christ is risky. Committing the harvest to God’s care through a life of prayer is risky.

What do you think Mosaic congregations and CRMs need to prune to be more focused on who God wants us to be?
What new seeds does God want Mosaic congregations and CRMs to plant in our rural and small towns, in our cities, and across the globe?
What kind of harvest are you praying for?

Mosaic Conference, as a historically rural people with a growing urban influx and increasingly global reach, is a risky business of pruning, planting, and harvesting.

Jeff Wright

Jeff Wright is a Mosaic Conference Leadership Minister who comes alongside churches in urban California and rural Pennsylvania. He serves as intentional Interim Pastor at Blooming Glen (PA). Jeff and Debbie miss the beach, freeway traffic, and taco trucks. They love Wawa coffee, road trips, and small-town diners. A loyal fan of the Los Angeles Dodgers, Jeff is already anticipating March 20, 2024, opening day for the Dodgers.

Creating a Fruitful Ministry at Every Stage of Life

October 12, 2023 by Conference Office

We have the capacity to enhance our passion in Christian ministry, in our lives, and in our families each day. When I think about how to do this, I think back to my mother.

Though my mother’s life was short (she died before she was 50), she made a big impact on her family and in the community. She had six children; I am the third in order of birth. We were a big family and my paternal grandmother lived with us.

My mother started a clothing store of the best brands of that time. The store grew rapidly, and so did her work and responsibility with the family. She really liked what she did–it showed in her face, in the way she dressed, and in her energy. Surely at the end of the day she was very tired, but we didn’t notice it. I think she was physically tired, but not mentally.

I admire her as someone who planned well. She would think ahead about the next day and always make birthdays, Christmas, and New Years special occasions. I remember my mother, too, in our church services. My mother is an example of how to appreciate each God-given day and how life, family, and Christian ministry can be joyful.

The psychologist Rafael Santandreu writes in his book, The Glasses of Happiness, “The first rule to make life very interesting is to set a high goal that excites us. A good life is to strive, to go to bed tired every night, but having enjoyed the day.” I agree with Santandreu, and I feel this way too about ministry and service to the church.

Studies show that Monday is the most depressing day for pastors. “More and more leaders are experiencing burnout, even those who enjoy regular sabbaticals and vacation periods. Their exhaustion has become more severe, and the discouragement and tiredness reach ‘to the bone,'” according to “The Pastors Aren’t All Right: 38% Consider Leaving Ministry,” in Christianity Today, from November 16, 2021 (online).

This causes me to ask: How do we find a solution to this depressed state of pastors on Monday and other days of the week?

The same Christianity Today article reflects on how the many challenges faced by pastors forces “pastors to find their identity in Christ and not in the perfection of their ministry.”

Pastor Nic Burleson “had to face his own fears related to lack of growth, and he had to remind himself that God’s call in Matthew 25:21 is centered on faithfulness, not success.” These struggles are causing some pastors to lean into their relationship with Jesus and discover new resilience. This too can be part of the fruitfulness and happiness that we create in our ministries.

His master replied, “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!” (Matthew 25:21, NIV).

Dear God … It’s me, Marta

October 5, 2023 by Conference Office

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio & Photo by Ben Vaughn on Unsplash

Dear God,

It’s me, Marta.

I am still glowing inside from my visit to Garden Chapel yesterday. The two-hour drive on a Sunday morning was long enough to quiet my mind and open space for your presence, your peace, and your Spirit to settle in and take hold.

Upon arriving I found the two pastors, Tim and Hector, already hard at work, setting up systems for two services, one in English and one in Spanish (or Spanglish), in-person and on Zoom, one upstairs and one downstairs in their newly renovated building, divinely provided through a community ministry connection. These pastors have full-time time jobs and a deep passion for Christ, ministry, the Word of God, and their diverse community. Oh, the stories they tell, Lord, of how You are working and moving.

After the service, one of the sisters invited me and the two pastor’s wives for a coffee at a local Colombian bakery. What a wonderful gift to sit and fellowship with my sisters, covering topics from the Conference to our ministry work and our families. I am still glowing, Lord, from spending time with You and Your people.

But it’s not just at Garden Chapel but at Spring Mount, Plains, Nations Worship Center, Peña de Horeb, Mennonite Bible Fellowship, Circle of Hope, Evangelica Menonita de Oracion y Adoracion, and all the other churches I am invited to visit.

“For there is one body and one Spirit, just as you have been called to one glorious hope for the future. There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all, in all, and living through all” (Ephesians 4:4-6, NLT).

Thank You, Lord.

Love, Marta

Dear Mosaic Conference,

It’s me, Marta.

During the Pathways Forward focus groups, I heard a phrase multiple times: “I love the diversity of Mosaic but…” The “BUT” threw me off. “But” is used to introduce a phrase contrasting what has already been mentioned. It invalidates everything said before. It does not allow for both things to exist at the same time.

If we use the word “AND,” we can make both statements true: “I love the diversity of Mosaic AND…”

We need the AND to answer in unity. We need the AND for our commitment “to making our churches places of radical hospitality, inviting and engaging all people regardless of race, ethnicity, age, gender, lifestyle, or socioeconomic status. God desires to bring transformation to all people; therefore, we will welcome all people and call all people to repentance and holy living” (Grace and Truth, Church Together Statement).

We need the AND to “be intentional about identifying those on the margins of our churches and society and provide resources for the work of mutual transformation according to the good news of Jesus Christ” (Going to the Margins, Church Together Statement).

The diverse congregations of Mosaic Conference already minister in the margins. There are no BUTS about it. Let us be attentive to sticking points and replace them with, “We love the diversity of the body of Christ in Mosaic, AND we will worship the Lord and serve the Lord in unity.”

“True worship of God transcends time, culture, language, and nation,” says Nelson Kraybill in his book, Apocalypse and Allegiance. Kraybill says that when we worship God, we join a vast multitude of saints from all peoples and all eras of history. When we “see ourselves as part of this multitude, it makes us less likely to idolize our countries. We are less likely to let issues and perspectives of our own generation eclipse the shared wisdom of saints through the ages.”

Love, Marta

The Faith of a Tonsil

September 21, 2023 by Conference Office

I had just sent out the invitations for my Remission party – to celebrate that after two years, I had finally achieved remission from leukemia, when I got the call. They noticed a small area of concern in my tonsil on a recent scan. “It is probably nothing,” but I should get another scan. A day later, my doctor called me and said they found a tumor in my tonsil. My surgery was in 13 days.

Things happened quickly. Mostly, I was grateful. Let’s get this tumor out. Yet I also had to plan for an unexpected two weeks off from work and more. For two years I had gone through multiple treatments and chemo. It had been long and tiring. I was ready to return to my old self. If the tumor was malignant, this would be the first of two surgeries, plus possible radiation. My head was swirling.

I moved toward the surgery, checking things off my lists, preparing for recovery, and praying. Praying that this would be benign. I was surrounded by an army of prayer warriors too. Yet, I still found myself struggling to sleep at night. I googled “tonsil cancer.” I worried. I was scared and depressed, no matter how much I prayed or others prayed for me.

One morning I awoke, feeling like I had received a message from God: “All will be well.” The assurance I felt did not ensure a benign biopsy or an easy road ahead, but that “all will be well,” regardless. This reminder of God’s presence carried me for the next few days.

My surgery went well. Now to wait for the biopsy results, which would take about a week. Recovery from such surgery is awful. I was barely able to swallow, even my own saliva, and I lost ten pounds in the first week. The silver lining about having such intense pain is that it kept my mind off the biopsy results. A week passed and no results. My pain was still bad, but slightly improving, so I found myself thinking more about the biopsy. The hypothetical scenarios would play out, often in the middle of the night, as I waited. God’s assurance a week before seemed distant.

In the hospital, just a few minutes before surgery, Sue is ready for her tonsil and tumor to be removed.

***Photo by: Michael Howes***

Last week, I met with my doctor. He told me that the primary biopsy results were in, but that it would be another two weeks until I received the final, full report. The initial biopsy report showed no signs of malignancy. Benign. He was quite confident that the final report would be the same.

I felt lighter, relieved, renewed.

I’m still waiting for those final biopsy results … probably for another week. But now the waiting doesn’t seem so difficult. I have trust in the doctor and his belief, for which I am grateful.

However, it makes me pause. I still don’t know what the final biopsy result will be. Yet, the doctor’s confidence has allowed me to release my fear of the unknown. Why was I not able to release that fear to God as I prayed? Shouldn’t I be able to release it, trusting God that all will be well, regardless of the final biopsy? I confess I wasn’t. But with the doctor I was.

I don’t want to beat myself up for my lack of faith. It’s common. But it has made me think about prayer and faith, especially during medical challenges. What are we praying for? If we pray in faith, why do we still worry? Why can’t I trust God’s word in the same way that I trust the doctor’s word?

Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.

300 Patients Who Reminded Me What It Means to Be Mosaic

September 14, 2023 by Conference Office

As part of my summer sabbatical, I joined the St. Mary’s Hospital Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) program and was placed at Nazareth Hospital in northeast Philadelphia. It’s a Catholic hospital in a diverse part of the city. Each week, for 11 weeks, I spent 14 hours in classroom education and 24 hours walking the floors of the hospital, discerning whom to visit on my shift. Over the summer, I visited approximately 300 patients.

I worked in the Emergency Room, Intensive Care, and General Surgery floors regularly. About 25% of the patients were Spanish-speaking, 10% Jewish, and 10% Muslim. Staff and patients were from around the world, each with their unique stories.

Every day was full of complicated stories. I saw people struggling with addictions, strokes, end-of-life issues, suicide attempts, and behavioral health concerns. It was invigorating and exhausting to attempt to provide spiritual care to this wide variety of people.

I re-learned some basic things about ministry and my own sense of call to service and leadership. I was reminded that the love of people is essential to our work. I encountered the mystery of God’s power in words, touch, and silence. I saw again the importance of understanding and being understood when working with a limited knowledge of languages — the frustration of Babel and the power of Pentecost.

I was reminded of the generosity of people who serve in healthcare, human services, and education. I was often frustrated with the inadequacies of our systems to respond to patient needs. I saw the challenge to maintain meaningful wages for staff. I felt the struggle to communicate compassion and care behind a surgical mask.

I was reminded that I often could not have meaningful conversations with patients if basic needs like food, water, temperature, and pain were not addressed. I was surprised how intimate conversations could emerge if I helped people feel safe and valued, even for a few minutes. I learned the power of paying attention, of stumbling to speak another person’s language, of trying to understand other religious perspectives.

I learned the importance of just showing up, making cold calls, admitting when I made mistakes, and of taking breaks. I appreciated the care of staff in the cafeteria, staff who cleaned the rooms, nurses who felt their work was a calling, and doctors who went above and beyond to try to provide adaptive care for patients with complex situations.

I return from sabbatical grateful for this break, for the opportunity to peer into another kind of ministry space, for the 300 people I visited, and for the staff who welcomed a Spanish-speaking, Slavic-background, Mennonite minister into their midst.

I’m grateful to our Mosaic board and my Mosaic colleagues for making this sabbatical possible. I was able to be away with full confidence, particularly with Marta Castillo’s willingness to serve as Acting Executive Minister. It’s my first sabbatical in over 25 years of ministry. These three months allowed me to be reminded of my basic love of God and people that rooted my willingness to begin pastoral work back in 1996.

Coming back, I am reminded that we as Mosaic felt our own sense of call to be a diverse community, where uniqueness is welcomed and the broken and beautiful are acknowledged. I return, committed to my own sense of call to be kind, open, and centered. I come back to my Executive Minister work, knowing there is tough, hard, and holy work ahead. This work requires all our skills and gifts, and our mutual trust, to bring healing and hope to ourselves, our neighborhoods, and the world.

Living in the Why

September 6, 2023 by Conference Office

I am often asked, “What does a pastor do?” The question is meant to probe into what my job entails outside of the three hours I am on duty Sunday mornings. I don’t begrudge the person for asking the question; in today’s world, employees need to justify their time at work, and pastors are often seen as employees of the church.

So, when answering the “what” question, I am often tempted to prove my worth and tell them every detail of my weekly schedule. My duties range from visiting the sick or homebound members, counseling folks, and planning worship and sermons, to setting up tables and chairs and other janitorial duties.

But instead, my answer is usually a snarky, “Not a whole lot. It is a great job that only requires me to work one day a week!” That comment usually ends with an awkward silence followed by some laughter.

Last month, I was in line at a grocery store, talking with the person in front of me. When the person asked the “what” question of me after I said I was a pastor, another person behind me in line, who was listening in, followed up by asking simply, “Why?”

Somewhat startled, I asked, “Why what?” The person said that she wanted to know why anyone would want to be a pastor. Then she shared that her spouse was a former pastor who had been deeply hurt by people’s mistrust, harsh words, unmet expectations, and insinuations. Not only had this pastor left the ministry, but he also left his faith behind in the wake of all his pain and hurt. After I heard about this couple’s experience, the “why” question to me was completely appropriate.

In that moment, I wondered how or even if I should respond to the “why” question. I have gone through times of disappointment and discouragement in ministry. I have experienced failures, challenges, and made many mistakes. An honest answer may have been to tell the woman that I often wonder “why” I am doing this as well.

Yet, my response to the “why” question was simply that I felt called by God to the pastoral office. And that feeling of call makes all the difference as other pastors and l live into our ministry communities and react to the struggles and pressures that our churches are experiencing today.

I cannot help but recall the years that I spent on the Credential Committee of Mosaic Conference. Whenever we interviewed new pastoral candidates, the first question we asked them was about their call to ministry. The candidates answered the “why” question with a passionate sense of God’s call on their lives to serve the church.

Perhaps we have simply forgotten that God has called our pastors. God has given them a purpose and passion for ministry. Pastors are not perfect. Pastors have families, personal struggles, and emotional issues that affect their lives and their ministries. And pastors certainly do not have all the gifts necessary to lead and guide their churches by themselves.

But that is why we are called to serve in the church with many other members and gifts. If we allow our pastors to focus on their call to serve rather than on all the tasks and expectations that many put on them, their ministry will be fulfilling, inspiring, and life-changing to everyone. Let’s pray that our pastors will experience a renewed sense of God’s call on their lives and that the congregations will allow them to minister and live in the “why” with passion, love, and humility.

The Not-So-Easy Leadership Adjustment

August 30, 2023 by Conference Office

“If you follow this advice, and if God commands you to do so, then you will be able to endure the pressures, and all these people will go home in peace” (Exodus 18:23, NLT).

We find this text situated in the story of Jethro’s visit with Moses after the liberation of the people of Israel from Egypt. Hearing all that God had done for the people of Israel in rescuing them from the Egyptians, Jethro proclaims, “I know now that the Lord is greater than all other gods” (Exod. 18:11) and offers a sacrifice to the God of Israel.

After celebrating the mighty works of God the day before, Jethro goes out the next day to see what Moses is doing and discovers that Moses is doing everything as the leader of the Israelites: serving as an arbitrator, coordinating decisions, communicating God’s instructions to the people. Jethro tells Moses, “You’re going to wear yourself out – and the people, too. This job is too heavy a burden for you to handle all by yourself” (Exod. 18:18, NLT). Jethro continues, giving Moses some advice on how to delegate the work by finding reliable colleagues and empowering others, emphasizing, “If you follow this advice, and if God commands you to do so, then you will be able to endure the pressures, and all these people will go home in peace” (Exod. 18:23).

While the people of Israel were still in Egypt, Moses was used to doing everything under the direction of God. However, the context has now changed. They are no longer in Egypt, yet Moses’ leadership style remains the same. Jethro’s wise counsel identifies the reality of the context change and the leadership style required for this new reality.

Today, we are undergoing significant context changes as well. What are the leadership adjustments required for the context we find ourselves in? What conversations are needed? What questions need to be asked and wrestled with? Whom do we need to empower to help us lead?

The text notes that Moses listened to Jethro’s counsel and did what he advised. He made leadership adjustments that empowered others to help carry the load. This is not always an easy thing for leaders to do, especially if we want things done a certain way.

What allowed Moses to make the adjustment? Numbers 12:3 gives us a clue: “Now Moses was very humble—more humble than any other person on earth.” It would seem that leadership adjustments require humility.

How might we cultivate humility in times of change? Who needs to be empowered to help carry the load? How might we extend grace and truth in love as we struggle to lead in a context that has changed and will continue to change for the foreseeable future? What leadership adjustments might you need to make?

Quaker Thoughts on Simplicity

August 21, 2023 by Cindy Angela

Mennonites and Friends (Quakers) are different groups with different cultural and theological histories. Yet these groups have some shared concerns: a peace testimony, a refusal to swear oaths, a history of persecution and flight, and an understanding of plainness and simplicity. As a member of the Religious Society of Friends, I offer a few reflections on simplicity from a traditional Quaker perspective.

Simplicity begins on the inside. As followers of Christ, we have been commanded to seek first the Kingdom of God. Simplicity is setting aside anything that gets in the way of seeking the Kingdom. The Book of Discipline of my yearly meeting (a yearly meeting is equivalent to a Mennonite conference or convention) states: “The call … is to abandon those things that clutter [our lives] and to press toward the goal unhampered. This is true simplicity.” Simplicity can mean having fewer possessions, but also means surrender to God.

Simplicity is not the same as frugality. My Lutheran grandparents lived through the Great Depression. As a result, they crimped the toothpaste tube to get out every last bit of paste—and I recall that my grandmother even once cut off the end so that she could scrape the inside of the tube with her brush. My grandfather told stories of eating pretzel soup for breakfast during the 1920s and 1930s. This was, well, crushed pretzels soaked in water. Circumstances forced my grandparents to be frugal. But their continued sense of carefulness with resources does not strike me as a form of simplicity, but rather a survival technique born of economic trauma.

Simplicity will look different for different people. Some Friends choose against television in their homes, and some plant gardens as a spiritual practice. Still others feel called to plain or simple dress. Not everyone feels called to do this. My yearly meeting acknowledges in the section of the Discipline that “Simplicity does not mean all conform to uniform standards.” Margaret Fell Fox, an early Friend and the wife of George Fox, mentioned in 1700 that requiring everyone to be “in one dress and one color” was a “silly poor Gospel.” This means that some Friends come to worship in long dresses and suspenders. Others come to worship wearing jeans. This is okay.

Simplicity can also unite us. Friends’ practice of waiting in silence began during a time of religious and political turmoil. They felt the only way to find God in the turmoil was to strip away the structured worship services. As a result of waiting, listening, and speaking only when God prompted, Friends encountered a special unity in worship. Even today, I will sometimes be praying silently, and someone stands and speaks the very thing I am praying about.

Following God’s call to simplicity can be a form of witness. John Woolman, an American Friend and storekeeper, felt that slavery was impeding his ability to seek first the Kingdom of God. He began to speak and act against slavery before Friends in the Philadelphia area prohibited the practice. He began wearing undyed clothing because dye was made by the labor of enslaved persons. For Woolman, stripping away distracting things meant looking different from the rest of his religious community.

In keeping with the Quakerly character of this writing, I offer some questions for examination and spiritual growth for us all to consider:

Is something blocking my search for the Kingdom of God?
How has following a call to simplicity enriched my walk with God and my community?

A longer version of this article originally appeared in Anabaptist World. This abbreviated version is used by permission.

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