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Sing to the Lord

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by Mike Clemmer

In Ephesians 5:19, the Apostle Paul commands gathered believers to “sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” I wish that Paul would have given more specific directions as to what form our hymn singing and worship should be.  

According to Webster’s dictionary, a hymn is “a song of praise to God.”  That seems like such a simple definition. However, over the years, music and its use in worship has been at the center of many debates and schisms in the Mennonite Church simply because of certain differences and preferences. In the broader church, these differences in music often have escalated and sometimes are referred to as “worship wars.”  

Unfortunately, we in Mosaic Conference have not been immune from them. Throughout our history, changes in music preferences or to the “good old songs” of our past have raised our anxiety levels. These changes in preferences seem to happen in every generation.  

My grandfather’s hymnal from 1905. Photo by Mike Clemmer.

Recently, while paging through my great grandfather’s hymnal from 1905, I noticed that very few of the songs were familiar to me. What happened over the past 100 years that many of these songs are no longer sung in church? Why were they replaced? Was it the theology or the melody? Or, did they simply become outdated?  

In the Franconia, PA area, many Mennonites enjoyed learning 4-part harmony at singing schools as early as the mid-1800’s. Yet allowing harmonies to be sung in worship services was mostly forbidden until the late 1800’s. Similarly, when the first English hymnbook of the Mennonite Church (MC) was published in 1902, a switch to singing songs in English rather than German also created anxiety. There are many stories of church leaders weeping out loud or having members walk out the back when their congregation started singing in English, or in 4-parts, or with instrumental accompaniment. 

In my lifetime, there have been three new Mennonite hymnals, each bringing pause and pushback by some. Some churches no longer use hymnals, only having the words to contemporary style worship songs projected on a screen. In many places, acapella singing led by a song leader has been replaced with worship bands with lights, drums, and cymbals. Where will it all end? What would our forefathers and foremothers of music and worship, like Joseph Funk, think of all this? 

Funk appreciated the use of instruments in sacred music, but he also “believed strongly that music should be sung by all members of a congregation as a participatory form of worship . . . as a kind of musical democracy.” i Although Funk was a great proponent of 4-part singing, he also promoted the idea that full participation of the congregation with their voices is the goal, regardless of the way that it is practiced.  

Even though we hold our worship preferences personally and deeply, the idea of singing together as a community of faith should continue to be our focus, regardless of the way it is practiced. My prayer is that we all would “sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in our hearts to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything” (Eph. 5:19). 

The opinions expressed in this content are those of the author and may not reflect the official policy of Mosaic Conference.

Mike Clemmer

Mike Clemmer is a Conference Leadership Minister and serves as the pastor of Maple Grove Mennonite Church (Lancaster Conference).

My Great-Grandmother’s Organ: A Parable

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by Emily Ralph Servant

I took a deep breath and guided my circular saw across the center of my great-grandmother’s pump organ. The first cut was the hardest.

Although it looked like an upright piano, pianos were expensive in the early 20th century. Families who couldn’t afford to buy a piano would purchase a (less expensive) organ in a piano case. My great-great-grandparents gifted this treasure to my great-grandmother in 1915, when she was 12 years old.

The organ had made the trek from Pennsylvania to Indiana, Illinois, Virginia, and Ohio, then back to Pennsylvania again. Over the years, most of the reeds had stopped working and mice had made their home in the billows. But I cherished the memories of it in my grandparents’ home, where my little feet would pump the pedals and my little hands would play unrecognizable music while it wheezed dozens of notes at once.

The organ in its original state. Photo provided by Emily Ralph Servant.

Two decades ago, my grandmother asked if anyone wanted the organ. She was considering turning it into an entertainment center and wanted to know if it was worth trying to restore it. I couldn’t stand the thought of our heritage organ holding a television set, so I told her that I wanted it someday. She spent countless hours with a local restoration specialist, learning how to replace reeds and repair cracks. She had only a few more repairs to do when she died suddenly in 2007. The organ sat in my parents’ home and later in their barn, unused: beautiful yet broken.

For decades, this photograph of Emily’s great-grandmother, Winifred, as a child hung near the organ in her son’s home. Photo provided by Emily Ralph Servant.

The organ was finally passed down to me and brought to my home in Baltimore after my parents downsized a few years ago. For a long time, it sat in my carport, too big to fit down the stairs to my basement. We live in a small rancher that’s filled with the furniture of everyday life; there was no room for it.

Eventually, I was faced with a decision: allow my great-grandmother’s organ to serve my family now and into the future or throw it away. There isn’t a market for broken pump organs in a society saturated with discarded instruments. The answer was clear.

I spent months brainstorming what I could build with it, wrestling to solve problems, to imagine its potential. The first cut was the hardest, but every cut after that got a little easier. As I rebuilt my great-grandmother’s organ, I began to see something new and beautiful arising out of her shell: something I could pass down to my children, something they might actually want.

The organ-turned-bookshelf, full of theology books. Photo provided by Emily Ralph Servant.

My great-grandmother’s organ is now a bookshelf. It’s big enough to hold my entire library of theological books—for the first time in years, all my books are unpacked, easy to access and reference. Instead of simply taking up space, my great-grandmother’s organ is helping me and my family, providing what we need for our lives now, offering possibilities that will last into the future. The organ is beautiful once more, its dark wood gleaming next to the vibrantly colored spines of the books.

Whoever has ears, let them hear; God is doing a new thing and it is very, very good.

Whoever has ears, let them hear; God is doing a new thing and it is very, very good.

Emily Ralph Servant

Emily Ralph Servant is the Leadership Minister for Formation and Communication for Mosaic Mennonite Conference. Emily has served in pastoral roles at Swamp and Indonesian Light congregations and graduated from Eastern Mennonite Seminary.

The Gift of Not Knowing

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“We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” 

2 Chronicles, 20:12, NLT

In 2 Chronicles 20, messengers came and told Jehoshaphat (the king), “A vast army from Edom is marching against you from beyond the Dead Sea.”  Jehoshaphat was terrified by this news and begged the Lord for guidance. He also ordered everyone in Judah to begin fasting.  So, people from all the towns of Judah came to Jerusalem to seek the Lord’s help.  Jehoshaphat stood before the community of Judah and Jerusalem in front of the new courtyard at the Temple of the Lord.  

He prayed, “O Lord, God of our ancestors, you alone are the God who is in heaven. You are ruler of all the kingdoms of the earth. You are powerful and mighty; no one can stand against you! O our God, won’t you stop them? We are powerless against this mighty army that is about to attack us. We do not know what to do, but we are looking to you for help.” 

When the people of Judah stood before the Lord, the Spirit of the Lord came upon one of the men standing there.  

He said, “Listen, all you people of Judah and Jerusalem! Listen, King Jehoshaphat! This is what the Lord says: Do not be afraid! Don’t be discouraged by this mighty army, for the battle is not yours, but God’s. Tomorrow, march out against them. But you will not even need to fight. Take your positions; then stand still and watch the Lord’s victory. He is with you, O people of Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid or discouraged. Go out against them tomorrow, for the Lord is with you!  

Not clearly seeing the pathway ahead, not knowing what to do, where we are going, or what might happen, may not seem like a gift to most leaders.  It is frightening, disconcerting, and uncomfortable. It is humbling. Jehoshaphat begs the Lord for guidance, and he orders everyone to begin fasting for God’s help.  He stands before the community and prays, acknowledging God’s rule and power and their powerlessness. 

“We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” 

2 Chronicles 20:12, NLT

King Jehoshaphat led the people of Judah to seek God’s salvation.  He did not know how God would act in response to their prayers, but he knew that God was trustworthy and faithful.   

The gift of not knowing takes us to the throne of God.  The gift of not knowing takes us to surrender.  The gift of not knowing opens a space for the Holy Spirit to speak into our lives to comfort, counsel, and direct our paths.  May we use this gift of not knowing effectively.  

“The Merton Prayer” from Thoughts in Solitude

Marta Castillo

Marta Castillo is the Associate Executive Minister for Mosaic Conference. Marta lives in Norristown, PA, with her husband, Julio, and has three sons, Christian, Andres and Daniel and one granddaughter, Isabel.

Do We Really Disagree?

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by Conrad Martin

I hear a lot these days about how much we disagree. Can I disagree on how much we actually disagree? I’ve been wondering over the past few years why it is that we say we disagree when it seems that we are only talking past each other, even to the point that one could say we aren’t even speaking the same language? 

Photo by Afif Ramdhasuma on Unsplash

My Sunday School class recently studied the book Winsome Convictions, co-authored by Tim Muehlhoff and Richard Langer. The subtitle of the book is Disagreeing Without Dividing the Church. About two-thirds of the way through the book, a light came on in my mind as to why we seem to be talking past each other in our “disagreements.”  The authors state that what we have actually achieved is only misunderstanding, rather than real disagreement. How can we disagree when we don’t even understand what the other person is saying? The authors don’t suggest we need to agree on issues, but we do need to understand what the other person is saying. 

The authors’ recommendation is simple: Before we can claim to disagree with another, we should be able to first state the other person’s position or side. How many times have we heard, “Wait a minute, that isn’t really what I’m saying at all?” We must first be able to state the opinion or position of the other in a way that the person can nod and say, “Yep, you got it right, you really understand me.” Once we are speaking the same language, we can move on to deciding whether or not we truly disagree. This may require several attempts at stating the other’s position, but it helps to build mutual respect and trust that we are aiming for. 

Photo by Chris Liverani on Unsplash

Stating the other person’s position in a way they find agreeable doesn’t mean that you agree with their position; however, the authors of the book do say it needs to involve both facts and feelings. They ask whether we can reach a level of understanding that can not only state the facts of the issue, but also state how the other person’s beliefs make them feel and why those beliefs make them feel that way. Perhaps we need to get to the level of understanding that we can not only state what the person believes, but also state why it is so important to them. Personally, I’m a facts guy rather than a feelings guy, but I am interested in knowing why things matter to people. 

I don’t know if this really works or not, but I’d like to give it a try. Anyone want to test this out with me? I invite conversation and correspondence, and I will try my best to say your position back to you in a way that you can say, “Yes, you understand me.” At the very least we can aim for better understanding in our disagreements and perhaps find some areas of agreement along the way.   

Conrad Martin

Conrad Martin is the Director of Finance for Mosaic Conference.

Reframing the To-Do List 

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by Mary Nitzsche

I am a list maker. Having a weekly plan for how to use my time brings order and structure to my life. I maintain two lists: one for household and one for work-related tasks. Since semi-retiring a year ago, my work list has shortened while my household list has increased to include items for which I did not have or take time while working more hours. To remain sane, I learned the practice of dividing household tasks and errands among weekdays, rather than relegating everything to the weekend. Crossing off an item on my list brings me great satisfaction. What happens if I don’t get everything on my list done because I lack energy, motivation, or time?  What if an unexpected and higher priority situation emerges? Do I beat up on myself? I have learned the importance of offering myself grace to save unfinished tasks for another day without belittling or judging my self-worth or value. 

I recently listened to a podcast that reframed the “to-do list” differently. Rather than focusing on what could be accomplished to feel good about oneself, the focus was on one’s values. When making a list for the day, the question becomes: “What do I need to do today that reflects my values?” 

I share some of my values and ways they might create my “to-do list”: 

  • Living in the present moment prompts me to ask: What are one or two things that might bring me joy and delight today?
  • Connecting with others prompts me to ask: How do I want to connect with family, friends, neighbors, church family, or people I meet today? 
  • Caring for myself prompts me to ask: What will promote my well-being today?  
  • Respecting creation by how I live and act prompts me to ask: How might my living today honor and sustain creation?  
  • Expressing gratitude prompts me to ask: What am I thankful for, and how will I express gratitude today?  
  • Taking time to reflect on my life prompts me to ask: What can I learn and change in the experiences I had today or this week? How will I enact what I learn from my mistakes?
  • Living simply prompts me to ask: What is my fair share today and how will my actions and decisions reflect this balance?  
  • Serving others prompts me to ask: Lord, who are you nudging me to serve today and how can I serve them for their well-being? 

While I admit my list seems lofty and rather ideal, it frames list-making in a way that prioritizes my values. The laundry, meal preparation, cleaning, and grocery shopping needs to be done each week, but my values will guide how I carry out these actions. 

Jesus told Martha, who had a long to-do list, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing” (Luke 10:41-42a, NRSV). Jesus seemed to be encouraging Martha to focus on what she valued. I believe Jesus also invites us to give priority each day to what we value rather than on accomplishing all we can. 

What would your “to-do list” look like if it was created with your primary values in mind? 

Mary Nitzsche

Mary Nitzsche is a Leadership Minister for Mosaic Conference. She and her husband, Wayne, are Midwest natives. They have two adult daughters, Alison and Megan, son-in-laws, Michael and David, and one delightful grandson, William.

Changes  

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by Hendy Matahelemual

Throughout life, I am learning that the only constant thing in life is change. Growing up in a middle-class family in Bandung, Indonesia, we needed to move eight times until our family could afford to buy our own property. Moving from a slum to a small house on the edge of the city was my experience growing up.  

Maybe that is why, now that I’ve reached adulthood, I’m hesitant to move. After many of my friends graduated, they moved to Jakarta, Indonesia’s capital city, to find better pay. But not me. I was ready to settle.  

But God had a different plan for me. I married my wife, and we were still newlyweds. We had just started renovating our own house. God spoke to my heart through a verse from the book of Acts: “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (1:8, CSB).

At first, I thought, Really, God? But then after careful reflection, it became clear that I needed to be ready to leave my hometown if needed. At the time I didn’t know where exactly God wanted me to go, but wherever it was, I would follow.  

“You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth”

acts 1:8, CSB

My limited brain could only think of a few cities in Indonesia. It turned out that the city that God wanted me to go was nowhere close to my hometown. It was literally the end of the earth from Indonesia. “Marina, Hendy, I want you to go to New York City, to get connected to one of the Indonesian churches there,” said my pastor to us. I will never forget that conversation.  

We knew that it would require a lot of changes in our lives, but I also believe when God calls us, he will also sustain us. Seven years have passed by since that conversation. Today, my wife and I serve at Indonesian Light Church in South Philadelphia and Mosaic Conference.  

We have three little boys, ages 9, 6, and 2 years old. I love football more than soccer, drive on the other side of the road, speak and write in English, minister not only to Indonesians but across cultures, tribes, and languages. I still remember an occasion where I preached in English, and the sermon was translated in Cantonese. I believe the Holy Spirit works within us to allow us to minister across cultures.  

Not all changes are easy; some of them are hard, depressing, painful, and even traumatic. But this is also a part of ministry in Jesus. If change were easy, then Jesus would not have needed to die on the cross. Change requires sacrifice. One thing that God keeps reminding me is that I’m not here to change people’s lives; we are not called to fix people.  We are called to witness God, to journey together with people, and to be ready to be changed, as well.  

Our pain, suffering, and trauma will heal over time as we open ourselves to God’s love and to other people. Our misery will eventually become a ministry to other people. I believe there is something about shared brokenness that allows the Spirit to bring healing to the community where Jesus is at the center.  

God calls us individually and collectively. As a follower of Jesus, our calling is to be changed from the inside out. Some need to travel thousands of miles just to meet the right people to journey together, and some just need to go to their neighbor across the street, but the calling remains the same.  

“Anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” (2 Corinthians 5:17, NLT). Don’t settle for less than what God has promised you. Keep seeking, keep discovering the new you and the new us together. Keep answering the call from God. Jesus, be with us all.  

No eye has seen, no ear has heard, 
and no mind has imagined 
what God has prepared 
for those who love him.

1 Corinthians 2:9 (GWT)

Hendy Matahelemual

Hendy Matahelemual is the Associate Minister for Community Engagement for Mosaic Conference. Hendy Matahelemual was born and grew up in the city of Bandung, Indonesia. Hendy lives in Philadelphia with his wife Marina and their three boys, Judah, Levi and Asher.

Closing the Gap 

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by Randy Heacock

Photo by Josh Applegate on Unsplash

Many of our conference churches struggle with declining attendance, which mirrors the national trends: From large to small and among all denominations, churches are shrinking.  I heard recently that 85 percent of American churches are either maintaining or declining; 14 percent are growing due to transfers from other churches; and only one percent are growing due to new people choosing to follow Jesus. While we’ve been losing young people for many years, the pandemic has led to all generations walking out the church doors.

As I sit with church leaders lamenting this trend, the obvious burning question is, “Why are people leaving the church?”  Sadly, I must admit I have no solid answers.  But what I do know is that even I, a pastor of more than 35 years, am tempted to join those walking out the church doors.  It is not because of the people, for church people are some of the best people around.  Neither is it the theology, worship style, newness of building, or lack of programs.  No. For me it is the gap between what we say and what we do that eats away at my soul.

The two aspects of our professed life I find most disjointed are the value of community and meaningful accountability.  From what I observe, we are as individual and independent-minded as those who say, “Live free or die.”  We are good at asking God to do our bidding, but rarely invite God to direct our path. Even more rare are requests for communal discernment regarding a job change, house purchase, or family/relational challenges.   

Regarding accountability, many make vows to give and receive counsel as they join our churches, yet this is distinctly challenging in practice, particularly when long-time members are involved.  One member justified another’s poor behavior this way: “That’s just the way they are—we put up with them. Why can’t you?” 

At the conference level, we see a similar pattern. Congregations pull away from their Mosaic affiliation, without checking in with other congregations who may hold a different perspective.  When I first came to Doylestown Mennonite Church 22 years ago, I quickly discerned the fierce independence of our conference churches. Where I hoped to find cooperative relational patterns, I instead noted competition.  I believe this has improved somewhat over the years.

Mosaic also likes its independence.  As a response to the most recent resolutions passed by Mennonite Church USA, we named our independence by declaring such resolutions nonbinding.  Yet, Mosaic also struggles to practice accountability.  While we claim our Grace and Truth statement as foundational, we struggled recently to find a healthy response when it was violated.  And a few years ago, when an abuse allegation was reported in one of our institutions, we vowed to create a survivor-friendly process.  I wonder how survivors would grade us on our efforts on this matter. 

Photo by Lubo Minar on Unsplash

For me these gaps are increasingly painful.  Yet, I remain committed to the church.  The flickering flame of hope rests in Solomon’s prayer recorded at the temple dedication: “If my people who belong to me will humbly pray, seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, forgive their sin, and heal their land” (2 Chronicles 7:14). No matter what our perspectives on the cause or size of “the gap,” it is my hope that we can agree that God always gives healing and transformation when God’s people humble themselves as Solomon described.    

May we seek God’s perspective on our independent nature as we consider the gap between what we say and what we do.

Randy Heacock

Randy Heacock serves as a Leadership Minister for Mosaic Conference while continuing in his role as pastor of Doylestown Mennonite Church.

Following My Call from the Wilderness for More Than 40 Years

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By Marco Güete

This past weekend, I was honored as one of the denomination’s elders at Mennonite Church USA’s Hope for the Future 2023, a gathering of people of color, in Atlanta, GA. When I was asked to share a few words during the ceremony, the following came to mind:  

Seven “elders” were honored during the gala night, one of them being Mosaic’s Leadership Minister, Marco Güete. Photo by Cindy Angela.

More than forty years ago, at the Body of Christ Hispanic Mennonite Church in Queens, NY, a church leader approached me and called me out of my wilderness of ministry disorientation and my cave of confusion regarding my call to God’s service. The call I heard from that leader was clear, definite, and emphatic. “You must go to Goshen College (IN) and then to seminary.” I came out of my wilderness and my cave, in search of my place in the world for church service, which happened to be in the Mennonite Church.  

1st call.  Not a year had passed at Goshen College when I received a call to a specific ministry. I was called to be the coordinator of the newly formed Hispanic Ministries office of General Conference Mennonite Church. This was in 1982, and I was the only person of color on staff of the denomination. Although there was a coordinator of the Mennonite Indian Leaders Council (MILC), this person was white.   

A short time later, I was appointed as the first Director of the newly founded office of Hispanic Ministries. At the time, there were fewer than five Hispanic churches and no leaders in training for ministry. My mission was to discover, train, call, and send leaders to start new churches in the United States and Canada. I served in this position for 14 years.  

2nd call.  After serving as Director of Hispanic Ministries, I was sent for four years as a missionary along with my wife, Sandra, to Bogotá, Colombia to serve at the Colombian Mennonite Church.   

3rd and 4th called together.  While I was in Colombia, preparing to return to the US, I received the third call. Western District Conference called me to serve as an Associate Conference Minister and Church Planting Coordinator. South Central Conference called on me to serve them at the same time. I was the first person of color in these roles. I served in these positions for nine years. 

5th call.  Southeast Mennonite Conference called me to serve as Conference Minister in Florida. I was the first person of color in this position, serving for eight years.  

6th call.  Mennonite Education Agency (MEA) calls me to be the Director of the Hispanic Ministry Education Program, which I have been leading for the past eight years and continue to lead.  

7th call.  (The number 7 is very significant in the Bible, and for me.) The seventh calling in my life has been to Mosaic Conference. I currently serve as a Leadership Minister for the Mosaic churches in Florida.  

I clearly understand that God has had a purpose with my life and that He used someone to call me. I surely believe that part of our mission and God’s command is to call and send others into Christ’s mission.  I am immensely grateful to God for calling me to this ministry for over 40 years.  

And how will they preach if they are not sent? As it is written: “How beautiful are the feet of messengers who bring good news!” (Romans 10:15, NLT)

Marco Güete

Marco Güete is the Leadership Minister for Florida for Mosaic Conference.