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Blog

These three things: key learnings

October 3, 2007 by Conference Office

Phil Bergey
philb@designforministry.com

In my two most recent blog entries I outlined a series of trends faced by the church at large and by Franconia Mennonite Conference specifically. This final blog entry—completing the trends trilogy, shall we say, focuses on three key opportunities for learnings that bear additional reflection as I complete my leadership role with Franconia Conference.

The learnings grow out of the need for Franconia Mennonite Conference to strengthen its sustainability and focus its mission. As congregations have been spending more on their local ministry presence, financial giving to the conference and church-wide has been decreasing. So over the past decade FMC has been risking by exploring new scenarios. As noted in the previous blog:

    One [scenario] was to re-organize and/or re-allocate FMC properties so they could help underwrite administrative expenses and augment the decline from congregational dollars. Another was to move some FMC staff to a fee-for-service format, creating Mennonite Resources Network (MRN). And another was to unite all FMC-related ministries into a relational network of Conference Related Organizations (CROs).

A quick look at each.

FMC Properties
board gatheringFrom my perspective church-owned properties are a mixed bag. It’s like the proverbial “can’t-live-with-‘em and can’t-live-without-‘em.” They take a lot of money to build or buy, money and time to maintain, and can overwhelm the purpose for which we originally intended to use them.

Among Franconia Conference learnings in working with properties, it has become clearer than ever that property must contribute strategically to the mission of the conference or they will take more energy than they provide. A simple goal was that the properties would not use up any contributed dollars but that instead they would collectively carry their own expense and even contribute to administrative expenses of running a conference.

In order to assess decisions about properties, Franconia Conference has become more intentional about including the gifts of people who truly understand properties, such as a realtor, property manager, attorney or other profession that works with properties for a living. Keeping the focus on the Conference’s mission sometimes means changing the use of a property and sometimes selling a property.

For about ten years Franconia Conference owned a 12-acre, 3-building campus on Yoder Road in Harleysville, Pa. For multiple reasons it became clear to Conference leaders that it would be to the church’s advantage if the conference would sell this property to one of the long-term tenants, Mennonite Historians of Eastern Pennsylvania (MHEP). Although some people initially questioned the Conference Board’s decision to move in this direction, most now agree it was a mutually beneficial decision that secures the future of MHEP, the ministry organization that the conference relies on to keep its historical record into the future.


Mennonite Resources Network (MRN)

The concept for MRN emerged around 1997 along with other significant changes that surfaced around that time (including the move from program-based commissions to a board-based leadership model). MRN began originally with two main focii: web-based communications and a platform to provide consulting.

The MRN web site evolved into at least three things: 1) a web site for Franconia Conference, 2) a web site for Eastern District Conference, and 3) on-line sales of resources that eventually was acquired by Design For Ministry, a consulting company which purchased MRN’s assets and liabilities.

MRN’s consulting model allowed Franconia Conference to focus its mission and core processes and to tidy up its staffing commitments that had become too broad and unwieldy for the future. This happened in several ways. At the time Conference leaders were trying to simplify a primary mission (equipping leaders…), the ability to move remaining staff to MRN offered a new start. MRN in turn became a proving ground and launching pad for staff to move into a consulting pattern for ministry.

Along the way a difficult learning was that entrepreneuring within the church is even more challenging than in other settings. Innovation involves risk—relationally, financially and organizationally. Newness requires outstanding communication. New initiatives need to be focused and made tangible for people to value them. Franconia Conference leaders generally, including me particularly, learned some of these fully during the years of developing MRN.

Yet despite the challenges, additional benefits related to experimenting with MRN included several partnerships between Franconia Conference and Mennonite World Conference, income from a creative partnership with Ted & Lee Theatre Works, and opportunities to shape the early stages of Mennonite Church USA. The consulting format of MRN also prepared the way for Franconia Conference to move from overseers to conference ministers and consultants as a way of equipping leaders to empower others to embrace God’s mission.

Conference Related Ministries (CRMs)
west_philly.jpgSome of you are familiar with the acronym CRO, which stood for Conference Related Organization. This was an initiative to bring together the many ministry organizations that relate to Franconia Conference from schools to camps to retirement communities to many others. The goals of this initiative was to clarify the relational commitments and shared vision with these many ministries, and to create a relational network that the CROs would help to support financially as they grew. Both of these goals paralleled the congregations’ relationships with the conference.

Along the way it became clear that the term CRO needed to give way to CRM to highlight that these are not simply conference related organizations, but ministries. A key learning for Franconia Conference leaders is that mutual benefit leads to sustainability. CRMs must see ways in which they benefit by participating with the rest of the church. And the church, whether the conference or the congregations themselves, must deepen its ownership of these church-related ministries for a healthy and long-term partnership.

One learning from our shared life together is that some congregations are taking on more of a CRM-like character while some of the CRMs are developing congregation-like aspects. A few simple examples of the first include congregations that also run child-care centers (early education) or have facilities that require staff to run events held there by groups not directly related with the congregation. Examples of the second include retirement communities that have worshipping “congregations” on site and chaplains who are truly “pastors” for those they serve daily, and schools and camps that play enormous roles in discipling young people much like congregations do.

Clearly whatever learnings we’re gaining from developing an intentional CRM relational system have only begun to surface. What seems imperative to me as I leave is that mutual benefit, healthy relationships, and overall sustainability of both CRMs and congregations will need to be central.

In addition to these three areas of learnings above, more could be said about the Partners in Mission relationships that has developed, or about how financial support policies have moved from multi-year subsidies to one-time grants oriented toward impacting change, or about other things that have emerged over the past ten years or so. Other Franconia Conference leaders will surely pick these up.

As trends among us will continue to impact the way we do church together, and as change swirls all around us, we can be assured of at least one thing. God is faithful, and God’s Spirit has been given to us to lead us into whatever lies ahead (John 16:12-15).

*Note: Phil resigned from his Franconia Conference executive role on August 31, 2007, after more than 14 years as conference executive. In additional to beginning doctoral studies in human and organizational systems and executive coaching, Phil continues to provide consulting and coaching services through Design For Ministry, including an executive leadership role with Mennonite Church USA.

Filed Under: Blog

LEAP: Learning, Exploring and Participating Transformed in Guatemala toward a more focused pace of life

September 11, 2007 by Conference Office

Jessica Walter

In the middle of July, I packed my bags and headed south to be an Orientation Leader for Eastern Mennonite Seminary’s LEAP program. LEAP, which stands for Learning, Exploring, and Participating, is a three week theological and cross-cultural exploration experience for high school students who have been recognized in their churches as rising leaders. The program guides students from urban, rural, and suburban backgrounds through a week of theological reflection focusing on where God is calling them and then sends them off to experience and witness how God is moving in another culture. This year the LEAP trips included Trinidad and Tobago, Mexico City, and Guatemala (my trip). As an Orientation Leader my job was to act as a chaperone, Resident Assistant, shepherd, guide, moral booster, encourager, friend, and Big Sister.

Just two weeks after I arrived in Virginia, including two long days of preparation and travel, I sat down to a home cooked meal at my new residence in Guatemala with a sigh of happy relief. We were here. We had successfully made it through a travel schedule that started at midnight (meaning leaders didn’t sleep much), three airports, an encounter with Pollo Campero (a well-known Guatemalan fast food restaurant), and a bumpy ride up to the camp where we would stay for the next five days. As we sat down to our meal I looked around the table and realized I was about to spend the next 11 days in Guatemala with some of the brightest and funniest young men and women I had ever met, a co-Orientation Leader whose company and perspective I enjoy, a pastor and her husband who are both thoughtful adults and hilarious big kids, and founding members of the Mennonite Church in Guatemala Gilberto and Rosa Flores. God had orchestrated a dream team for this trip and I was going to take Gilberto’s advice for our group to “enjoy the moment!”

As the days went on and we met moments of joy and moments of trial a theme began to arise among our small team; we all began to question. What is God doing in Guatemala? Where is God here? Where is God in my life? What would I say to someone who wants to know why they should be a Christian? What is God’s calling on my life? What is my purpose? How is this trip changing me? How is God moving even in places where it looks like God is not being honored? How can a people be so faithful in the midst of persecution and poverty? What are the motivations behind a church’s attempt to grow? How do others experience God’s calling? What are experiences with God and how can I recognize them? What are the parallels and the differences between the church in Guatemala and the United States? What does God have in store for the church in Guatemala?

I began to ask some of the same questions that the students on our trip were wrestling with too. One evening in the middle of our trip I sat down on the shore of Lake Petén Itzá with Gilberto and talked with him about the poverty in his native country as we watched women and men wash clothing and themselves in the lake as well as fill barrels for drinking water. As our conversation ended Gilberto went back to reading his newspaper and I sat silently reflecting that I had suddenly changed. I now had a new question that lingers with me: How can I go back to life as normal when I know more about the pain of this world and have allowed this experience to change me?

I am back here participating in my “normal” routine; I write blogs, edit articles, go to meetings, buy groceries, and hang out with friends but I am different. I think even more critically then I did before about where I spend my time and my money. I have found myself willing to sacrifice my hunger for adventure for a slower, more intentional life that values relationships over tasks. It is a focus to live in the moment being present right here, right now. (Click) to see photos.

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: Jessica Walter

Missional possibilities post 9-11: Water to wine on a southbound Moroccan train

September 11, 2007 by Conference Office

Steve Kriss
skriss@mosaicmennonites.org

We were sitting in a train, knee to knee with two college students from North Jersey who had taken the summer to trek through Europe, side by side with two Moroccan women in traditional garb who were traveling with a teenage boy with bright and eager eyes. We conversed back and forth with the Jersey students who were finishing their trip across Europe with a quick jaunt into Morocco.

The students spoke loudly in our small compartment that barely accommodated the eight of us with all of our travel gear. The wide-eyed Moroccan teenager seemed to be listening to our conversation in English. I noticed that he clearly understood the phrase “9-11” that was spoken by my New Jersey friends. For them, it wasn’t anything in particular that they were discussing, just a mark of dates, time and change.

My Moroccan travelmate understood the words and maybe its implications for our shared life together. Many of the 9-11 hijackers were from Morocco. In our small compartment, we talked together and eventually the barrier between Moroccans and US Americans was broken as my colleague David Landis tried to use some Arabic and the teenage boy tried to use some English.

We were traveling on a train through the Moroccan desert; three Mennonite guys, three Moroccans, and two students from North Jersey who took breaks to smoke cigarettes between the cars. We barely spoke each other’s languages but were excited to break barriers by writing words and speaking slowly. My North Jersey friends didn’t seem to get the idea of speaking slowly.

The train stopped for some unknown reason and it got hot in our cramped and confined space. As the Moroccan women fanned themselves with paper, one of us opened our backpacks to reveal water and cups. We offered to share. Our New Jersey companions who know better than to take food or drinks from strangers declined. Our Moroccan compartment-mates were willing to receive. We shared water, bananas and cookies. We smiled and laughed together and drank from the same plastic cups. It was communion across language and boundaries. In this small hot space, the reign of God had come to earth.

The train began to move and slouch southward, stopping again for undetermined reasons under the blazing African sun. Our Moroccan friends opened a bottle of water to be shared this time with us. It was easier to share my own food and drink than to receive the water poured into a plastic cup for me. But I drank, gratefully, hopefully. Travel and engagement is more than giving, it’s also about vulnerability and receiving as well.

In that train under the blue cloudless North African sky, we shared together. It was nothing heroic, but we ate bananas and cookies, drank water and communed over broken Arabic, English and smiles. Cynical former NY Times writer Chris Hedges suggests that one thing he learned from his dad who was a pastor was that in times of crisis and confusion, sometimes you have to make and serve the coffee.

In remembering 9-11 and in knowing all of the hype about security and terror, I wonder if one of the best things we can do is to eat and drink at each other’s tables. These are the little things that Carmelite nun Therese of Lisieux suggests point the way to the Eternal moving us beyond boundaries (South African theologian David Bosch suggests that mission is ultimately about crossing boundaries) of fear, to discover the possibility of shalom/salaam/peace in this dry and thirsty season and find water turned to wine, cookies to the bread of life.

To see more photos by David Landis from Morocco this summer (click).

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: Steve Kriss

525,600 opportunities to love and 525,600 moments to live the call

August 16, 2007 by Conference Office

Sheldon Good
sheldoncg@goshen.edu

How do you measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights? In cups of coffee, in inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife?

These are the lyrics from Seasons of Love, a song from Jonathan Larson’s Broadway musical-turned-motion-picture, RENT. Larson reminds us that there are 525,600 minutes in a year. How do we measure a year in the life?

People naturally measure accomplishments, experiences, and well, life, in various ways. Jonathan knows that, and thoughtfully concludes his piece by saying that the only proper measure of a year of human life is love.

Just last night I heard a story from pastor – and now, innovator – Aldo Siahaan of Philadelphia Praise Center (PPC). Aldo and some of his friends from PPC wandered into a Home Depot the other week to purchase a door. When asked how large the door was that they needed, Aldo pulled a rope out of his pocket. A bit unconventional, yet surprisingly effective.

So we can measure doors with ropes, and according to Larson, we can measure a year with love. But how do we measure the church? Is this even possible?

One of the latest catchphrases I’ve come across asks us to rethink and reimagine how we “do church.” Two buzzwords that seem simple yet are surprisingly substantial.

As the death toll rose to nine on Sunday evening, my thoughts turned to the recent events along Interstate 35W in Minneapolis. What most don’t know is that there is a small Mennonite community that gathers just blocks from where the 35W bridge collapsed. This emergent community is called Missio-Dei.

Missio-Dei is made up of around ten persons who are committed to “following Jesus’ way of peace, simplicity, prayer, and radical hospitality.” They strive to embody the presence of Jesus in their local community known as the West Bank. I visited Missio-Dei this past May, and learned first-hand what it means to live out the Jesus Manifesto in one’s daily life. I can only imagine how they are living out their convictions in lieu of the this tragedy.

We mustn’t measure church in numbers of people or a spacious building, and we can’t just “do church” on Sunday mornings.

Also in May, I had the opportunity to hang out in the “Quadrangle” of Yale Divinity School and attend a conference for pastors sponsored of the Yale Center for Faith and Culture – a division of the Divinity School directed by Christian theologian Miroslav Volf.

I was privileged enough to participate in a seminar led by Executive Director Dr. David W. Miller titled, “Business Ethics: Succeeding without Selling your Soul.” I had a hard time sitting through this hour and a half. As the only Anabaptist – I think – in the room, I felt like Miller’s words were common knowledge to me, something I live without thinking.

Granted, I am a communication and business student at Goshen College and understand the need for ethics in the workplace. As an Anabaptist Mennonite, I understand – more correctly, am continuing to understand – the duality of faith and work. “Christians should not just gather on Sunday and scatter on Monday. We must develop a hermeneutic of the marketplace,” Miller said in his seminar. Miller’s words seemed poignant yet second nature, answers to questions I’m not really asking.

We can’t just “do church” on Sunday, and then casually “do work” on Monday. And we can’t measure church in how sensible our theologians are.

Living in Srok-Khmer (Cambodia) for three months as part of my Study/Service Term at Goshen College taught me a lot. As I worshiped and lived with my Christian host family within a mostly Buddhist nation, I learned how church is an extension of our being. Rarely did I have the chance to see my host brothers and sister from 5-9pm, because they were always at church.

They have the “church during the week” thing down. I will admit, their leadership committee is not as organized as I’d like it to be. For them, church is a way to connect with their neighbors, a safe space to hang out after dark, a place to learn English from a native speaker, and a melting pot for American, Khmer, and international fine arts.

We can’t just “do church” through strong sermons and effective worship sessions. And to measure church by the effectiveness of our committees would be slightly irrational.

I am trying not to get caught up in figuring out the best or most relevant way to “do church,” or how to “measure” it between four walls. Frankly, I wish we’d spend less time wondering how to “do church” and more time living – and loving – as the body of Christ we say that we are. My high school tennis coach, Scott Landis, used to tell me: Tennis is life, life is tennis. It makes me think: Church is life, life is church.

The only way to measure the church is in love. The only way to do church is to live the call.

There are 525,600 minutes in a year. That’s 525,600 opportunities to love. And 525,600 occasions to live the call.

Sheldon Good of Telford, PA, served as an intern with Franconia Conference for the second summer in a row this year. He attends Goshen College as a double major in business and communication and is a member of Salford Mennonite Church.
Cambodia Study-Service Term photo provided by Keith Graber Miller

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: Sheldon Good

Trends within Franconia Mennonite Conference: observations, challenges and hope

August 15, 2007 by Conference Office

Phil Bergey pbergey@mosaicmennonites.org

This is the second installment on trends from a presentation I made in my final State of the Conference report to the Conference Board in January. Unlike the broader macro trends in the first one (scroll down to see previous entry), these drill down more specifically into Franconia Mennonite Conference. Yet since Franconia Conference is in many ways a typical conference in Mennonite Church USA, much of what follows is not necessarily unique to us. Link to previous blog here

Trends within Franconia Mennonite Conference

 

  • Conference and congregational leaders are faced with significant challenges as we inevitably move from programmatic, master-plan, in-our-buildings mindsets to more organic, dynamic, missional and relational frameworks. This shift will continue, and along the way it will create excitement and adventure for some, and angst, pain and confusion for others within our congregations. Seminaries—while they are slowly preparing to address this—are not yet effectively preparing pastors to handle this shift. Perhaps skills and capacities for this shift can only be fully learned in the harness. Transparent, poised, flexible, high-EQ (emotional intelligence) leadership is essential.

 

 


I’m being very intentional with the above words that say: “as we inevitably move from….” Inevitable? Yep. The days of multiple commissions providing “program” for people has largely ended. Folks want to be personally engaged. Most people are open to transformation. Relationships are the best way for human transformation. As people are transformed, congregations and ministries are also. This creates a welcome environment in which Christ’s Gospel can thrive, even in our crazy culture. Let’s put our “church” energy into more than maintaining programs or serving on committees that are not central to a church’s unique calling.

Some of us greet necessary change with relief and open arms. Others of us resist and seek to avoid it. Change for the sake of change is silly at best and dangerous at worst. However, necessary change should be greeted with a humble confidence. Humble, so we are thoughtful about what we let go of and what we embrace. Confident, because God is already out ahead of us, calling us to help create a future following the footsteps of Jesus. We do not go alone; God’s Spirit will lead us into all truth (John 16:13).

  1. The shift from traditional bishop/overseer/conference minister roles among congregations is giving way to a yet-to-be-defined equipper/broker/connector/coach role that will take some of Franconia Conference’s best energy over the next several years. Honoring our polity and ecclesiology with integrity while risking new meaningful measurements will be held in tension as we carry out our missional calling of “equipping leaders to empower others to embrace God’s mission.”

This one probably sounds like a bunch of garbled church-speak. Well, unpacking it takes a few paragraphs, so read on: Much of Franconia Conference’s history included bishops. Most of these men (and they were only men) served faithfully and well. Along the way the times changed, and it was deemed that “overseers” would fit better. From outside the church the distinctions between bishop and overseer may have seemed slight, but within FMC during the 1960s and 1970s it was quite significant. If bishops were granted authority to make decisions on behalf of others, the 60s began a time of “power to the people.” So as the church embodied this spirit of the times, overseers were essentially men who embodied a level of leadership maturity and were placed in situations of providing oversight for one or several congregations by using an authority based more on relationship and facilitation than on position.

However as congregations became more robust in their level of organization and program activity, these 25 or so (volunteer) overseers became understandably compromised in their efforts to provide adequate oversight since most of them were also full-time pastors. Wives and children saw less and less of these overseers as they balanced their own congregation’s challenges and responsibilities with the additional load of helping another congregation with a leadership crisis and helping another congregation to find a new pastor. They did this for a small stipend plus gas money. There will always be a role for volunteer and stipended leaders, but only in ways that are sustainable.

Seven years ago in 2000, delegates overwhelmingly took action to replace the overseer model with a team of paid conference ministers. It made sense to address some of the growing problems of congregations that were dying or were faced with a limited future. Pastoral transitions were frequent then, and the number of congregational crises per year had grown steadily due in part to the trends listed in this blog. Led by a highly experienced Jim Lapp who functioned as conference pastor, the talented and diverse conference ministry team over the next six years provided some wonderful leadership. Pastoral departures slowed way down. Congregational crises deceased noticeably. Incoming pastors were creative, more open to risk and toward change and transformation.

But these positive trends occurred during another trend well under way that began making it impossible to keep in place a large, paid conference ministry team. Congregations began investing in themselves at unprecedented rates. I’m not whining. Much of it was understandable. They saw the need to invest in buildings, in more staff, in more programs. As members of Franconia Conference congregations continued to be generous to the church, the percentage being spent within the congregation began to outstrip the percentage sent beyond to the larger church.

As financial giving to the conference has been decreasing, Franconia Conference has been experimenting with new scenarios. One was to re-organize and/or re-allocate Conference properties so they could help underwrite administrative expenses and augment the decline from congregational dollars. Another experiment was to move some Franconia Conference staff to a fee-for-service format, creating Mennonite Resources Network (MRN). Another was to unite all Conference-related ministries into a relational network of Conference Related Organizations (CROs). Note: I’ll be blogging about each of these experiments in a future post as I wrap up my work for Franconia Conference by the end of August.

 

  • An increasing percentage of resources are being spent within and around the congregation—at this point largely regardless of ROI (return on investment)—as congregations wrestle with new questions and possibilities due to keeping more of their money at home where members’ individual expectations are growing. Also, the growing interest in relating directly to/with the global church will continue to increase, further impacting funds that congregations have historically had available for the conference and broader church.

 

 

Somewhere it should be written that advocating for a missional church vision may be hazardous to the fiscal health of an organization. At least this seems to apply to denominations and conferences that have been using the previous paradigm for funding program. I’m noticing it applies to congregations as well.

Giving people permission (as if they needed it) to focus their attention on where God is active in their life means folks’ money will follow their heart. Does this mean organizations will need to transition to structures and strategies that allow people to connect to their passion rather than a prescribed list of programmatic things? I’m afraid so. But it seems so inefficient, doesn’t it? Maybe. Have you ever noticed from reading the New Testament that the Gospel never was very tidy?

Same can be said for the global trekking people prefer to do rather than just sending their money via a mission board. Couldn’t that money be used more effectively if not everyone was traveling? Well, it depends. It depends if that money is a catalyst that helps people re-prioritize their lives—and their earthly possessions.

 

  • CRO (conference related organization) ministries will continue to grow as major employers and shapers of what the public understands as the identity of being Mennonite. Schools, camps, retirement communities and other ministries frequently have deeper impact and wider reach than their affiliating congregations. Making these ministries full partners in Franconia Conference’s shared vision will continue to be a critical part of overall strategy to impact our communities.

 

 

To some readers this fourth point is refreshing. For others, it’s offensive. But the truth seems to be that more kids make public commitments to follow Jesus at camp than they do in many congregations. And Mennonite schools have turned ordinary kids into leaders for the church for decades. Of course lots of examples exist to refute all this, so the point is not whether CRO ministries are more effective than congregations. That is completely NOT the point. Rather both are needed: congregations and the ministries that supplement the congregations. Each needs the other. Thus the call to even more intentional collaboration.

 

  • Wealth and acculturation continue to mute traditional understandings of Anabaptism—not the least in many Franconia Conference contexts. Unlearning, reinventing, risking and focusing what it means to be Anabaptists in our context will continue to grow in importance as shaping a healthy and winsome identity and purpose will become a central theme for faithful-minded individuals and organizations alike. As we know from our research trip in 2005 to the Netherlands, having our own (Mennonite) schools and other influential ways of shaping our youth seem to be key to investing in our children and young adults and their ongoing valuing of God’s mission from an Anabaptist perspective.

 

 

It’s possible that un-learning things we already know/believe/do is the hardest work we face as Anabaptists. I for one believe there may never have been a time when the world could embrace—and persecute—more what it means to be a follower of Jesus from an Anabaptist perspective. Maybe you’re talking about non-violence during a time when modern warfare seems not only immoral but also ineffective, outrageously expensive, and counter-productive. Or maybe you’re talking about Jesus loving the whole world during this time of global awareness and interdependence for our future. Or maybe you’re talking about the sacredness of all life, or the equal value of all people, or the importance of living with integrity. Seems like Anabaptists have a few worthwhile things to say to these and every other critical matter. More than a few non-Mennonites have wondered why they are meeting so many sons and daughters of Menno going the wrong direction at this critical juncture in our—and the world’s—history.

phil2.jpgRegarding “our” schools, there are reasons why some have chosen not to send their kids to Mennonite schools. From my perspective I wish all kids could attend Mennonite schools. My three sons have had life-changing experiences within the contexts of Mennonite education. My focus here is not to cajole, persuade or harass everyone into sending their kids to Mennonite schools, but rather to encourage our schools to take their strengths to the whole constituency. Home-schoolers could use a variety of services that Mennonite schools could provide very well. Public schoolers also could benefit from some of the services. Obviously all of this would require collaboration on everyone’s part, better use of technology than we have done to date, and openness of heart and spirit all the way around. But I believe the creativity and relationships could be good for everyone involved.

For those who read this far on such a long blog post, God bless you. And for those who didn’t, blessings to you too. The next installments of my final reflections will follow in the upcoming weeks.

Filed Under: Blog

Life in the Woods: sitting, thinking, wrestling, and discovering

August 8, 2007 by Conference Office

Jordan Good
philip.good@emu.edu

My life’s been a little different in the past few months. And it’s kind of weird saying that now — that it’s different. But it really is. In a lot of ways, so many ways that I don’t think I could really begin to explain it all. I guess I just needed to get away. I needed to go somewhere and think about things, to distance myself from all that I’ve known and force myself into a new place, both literally and figuratively.

Now I’m in Indiana. It’s as far west as I’ve ever been. No, I don’t get out much. I’ve discovered that when you do travel west, you see some pretty weird stuff. Like flat land. And I mean really flat. And the sun doesn’t set until 10:00PM. And high school kids are really into marching band. It’s all weird.

Yet this weird place has become a sort of sanctuary for me. It’s a little oasis in the ever-growing desert of the everyday. Instead of charging through life at the normal pace, I’m sitting down to step back and look at things to address matters of the heart and the like. I’m taking time to read and write and play piano for hours on end and have no reason to stop. There’s time to just sit and think.

That’s what I’ve seen this experience more than anything else. There’s been time to think about things. I’m not sure if resolve is the word I want to use. It’s more like sort through, or deal with, or kick around. Maybe wrestle with. Or more this illustration of sitting down with my problems and talking about things with them. Over dinner or something like that. It’s as if I am extending my hand and making an effort to get to know them.

I’ve also compared it to waking up alone in the woods and having no idea where to go. Yes, that sounds a little scary. And it is. I don’t see how it wouldn’t be. But when you slow down and purposely push everything out of the way that distances you from pain, suffering, emptiness and meaninglessness that seems to weasel its way into every aspect of life, that’s what it feels like. It feels like you’ve just woken up and looked around and realized that you have no idea where you are. And that you don’t even know how long it will take ’til you get to somewhere familiar.

But I happen to like the woods. I like that feeling of exploring, going wherever you think you need to go. It doesn’t really even matter where you end up. There’s no right way, no right place to arrive at, just the idea of being there and going somewhere. It’s observing the beautiful trees and plants and colors of the fallen leaves all around you.

I realize that’s a pretty different way to think about it. It’s a little bizarre, actually. But that’s okay. I’ve been finding out that my ever-changing views on things are a little different than normal — but what is normal, anyway? And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, then please ignore it. Thank God that you’re not completely off-the-wall like me.

What I’ve been discovering is that it’s more about having a bigger perspective on things, becoming fond of questions rather than answers. It’s about opening yourself up to the experience that is life and learning from all it has to offer.

Since I’ve come to the Walnut Hill congregation here in Goshen, I’ve had nothing but this amazing experience revolving around amazing people. Time and time again I’ve tried to retreat back into my own little world of me, I, and me. Time and time again God thrusts more and more of the neatest people into my life. People that convince me there’s still so much good in the world, “and that it’s worth fighting for.”

Why yes, I did just quote the Lord of the Rings. And like Samwise and Mr. Frodo, we’re all on our own little adventures. But we have to remember that those adventures don’t exist within ourselves. Life is everywhere and truth is all around us — especially in our relationships with others. And it seems the more I come to realize that, the more things just seem to fall into place. Work themselves out. Just like that.

And that’s different. But a very nice kind of different.

Jordan Good is a junior at Eastern Mennonite University serving through the Ministry Inquiry Program at Walnut Hill Mennonite Church in Goshen, Indiana. He’s a member of Bally Mennonite Church and looking forward to his cross-cultural learning this fall through EMU in South Africa.

Photos of Jordan’s experiences during his time with MIP have been provided

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: Sheldon Good

Examples of love and curiosity from those living out an everyday child-like faith

August 8, 2007 by Conference Office

Felicia Moore
fmoore@mosaicmennonites.org

New Beginnings Community Church is in its third year of holding a children’s summer program. Members of the congregation have noticed the lack of activities for the children in their community and set out to make a difference. They set out to have a day camp, providing lunch, bible lessons, and plenty of arts and crafts. I have been truly blessed to have been a part of this ministry for the past three years, through the ups and the downs.

One of my favorite experiences over the past three years occurred this summer. A small girl named Precious gets picked up by her dad everyday. One day, as the children were all sitting at the table ready to go home, her dad opened the door like a knight-in-shinning-armor coming to rescue her. She looked up at him and began to smile as she shouted, “Daddy!” By now anyone could see how much of a daddy’s girl she really was. He stepped into the room and gave her a big hug. She then quickly gathered her things and got ready to go. I watched them as they held hands and went out the door. Just before they left my sight, I could hear her say, “We had fun today at camp.” It was then that I realized why her name is Precious. And it was then that I realized why I got out of bed that morning.

Working or volunteering in children’s ministry is not always easy. The days begin to seem longer. Sometimes, I missed out on all the arts and crafts, and always end up eating last. In fact, sometimes I’ve wanted just to stay home and sleep in. It is on these days when I am often reminded of the boys and girls who depend on me to have camp. Who will take time out to play, listen, and give attention to them if I don’t?

Unlike last summer, I encountered more and more off-the-cuff questions, which often catch me off guard. I wonder if they save them just for me to answer.

The first question came care of Krista Ehst, who was volunteering for the day and wanted to eat a bowl of cereal instead of — the planned — chicken nuggets for lunch. It never occurred to me that a volunteer may have certain dietary needs. None of our meals were planned for vegetarians. I used this opportunity to have her explain what a vegetarian is and about her choice to become one. Most of the children accepted her answer and responded by saying that they had never met anyone who was a vegetarian before. They even wondered if any of our other volunteers were vegetarians.

The very next day, a ten-year-old asked me why we call God a male and could “He” actually be a female? I paused and allowed another counselor to answer. Even though the child could not focus his attention long enough for the answer, he was given one.

Then another question popped up a week later when someone asked if we can be friends with Muslims or people of different religions. Now it was my turn to answer. Honestly, I answered, it can be hard but it is possible. The only response I could share was through my own personal experience. I told the 12 year old that one of the most important things to do is pray for her friend. The next thing is to be a good example of a Christian for her. There will be times were both of you will disagree, but one must continue to be strong in what one’s believe.

It is in sharing our situations and questions that we all benefit from the answers. It could be something that I have gone through already that may help my brother or sister sitting next to me. To begin this type of communication I must be available to listen. In the end, I’m glad that they feel comfortable in asking and challenging me with their questions, whether or not they always wait for an answer. Most of all, being there to give them an answer back makes me joyful and keeps me on my toes.

Felicia Moore is a member of New Beginnings Community Church in Bristol, PA. She’s a junior at Indiana University of Pennsylvania serving through the Ministry Inquiry Program at her home church funded partially by a grant from Eastern Mennonite Seminary.

Photos by Krista Ehst

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: Sheldon Good

Obliged to live the call: Considering why we met together at San Jose

August 6, 2007 by Conference Office

Karisa Martin, Ambler
karisa@att.net

As I am writing this article and reflecting on the Mennonite Youth Convention in San Jose, I am turning a small polished rock over and over in my hands. Inspired by a song in the musical Godspell, during which a character puts a pebble in his shoe at the start of a journey, my youth leader instructed everyone in our group to chose a rock to accompany us to San Jose. Though we kept our rocks in our pockets instead of in our shoes, they were nonetheless notable traveling companions. Individually and together, we assigned meaning to our rocks throughout the trip.

The trip to San Jose had a rocky start, and that wasn’t because everyone in the youth group had a rock in their pocket. Thanks to thunderstorms in Atlanta, our flight plans became quite convoluted. The inclement weather tacked on hours of waiting at the Philadelphia airport and caused us to miss our connecting flight. Arriving in Atlanta in the wee hours of the morning, we were forced to hunker down for the night on the airport’s incredibly plush benches.

After long awaited warm showers and changes of clothes, our youth group was ready to soak up what convention had to offer. Early on we realized we would be spending lots of time at the convention center . Since we were staying near the airport, there would be no discreet sneaking away to our hotel rooms for naps. We were pushed to engage. I may have sacrificed sleep, but I gained so much more through new connections and thoughtful conversations.

I hoped that engaging in convention would bring me some peace of mind about all the uncertainty that the future holds. What I found instead was discomfort of the most wonderful kind. My youth groups’ rocks were fitting metaphors for this. As river rocks, they were polished by bumping and scraping against many other rocks. Though San Jose was my third convention, I was not able to coast through the week on my familiarity. My faith journey bumped and scraped against the large group dynamics, hearing from my peers, and the challenges that the speakers offered. The process may not always feel pleasant, but as a river rock becomes beautifully polished, I know discomfort is a part of being polished into the person God is calling me to be.

Besides wrestling with my own calling, I witnessed the larger church struggle with its calling during convention. I’ve enjoyed looking at how the three conventions I’ve attended have built on each other. From being a welcoming body, to speaking up about our faith, the Mennonite church has grown to this theme of living the call. Living the call happens inside of every believer, in the body of Christ, and it overflows into our communities and the world.

I’ve also enjoyed how my traveling companions to convention have changed. I sneaked into the Atlanta convention with a friend from church as a part of a youth group we’d never attended. Two years later, a group of four of us from Ambler congregation tagged along with another youth group. What a joy it was this year to have a full fledged seven person crew from Ambler! Our small group discussions could rise out of the needs of our church and community. Plus, we already had a foundation of trust and openness. Every time we met, we placed our rocks in a circle. These rocks served as a powerful symbol of unity and of what we each contributed to our group times. Throughout the week in our discussions we explored how our rocks, our words, and our actions could, instead of building walls, build up the church.

More than any other convention, this one has been about the journey. It has affirmed that living faithfully means being on a winding spiritual road. We can encounter God all along the road, not just inside the San Jose convention center. Our youth group got to feel this reality a bit sooner than others. God was in the airport gate as we planned a Sunday worship service about convention. God was at Ambler Mennonite Church as we passionately shared our convention experiences and God will go with us as we discover ways to live the call.

In my more cynical moods I question why I went to convention. I wonder about the hundreds of dollars and the hours spent fundraising that could have gone to needs right at home or in anywhere around the globe. Did I really need to be flying cross country, eating in delicious ethnic restaurants, and sleeping on a wonderfully plush bed? Well, no. Convention leaves a lot to be desired as far as stewardship of resources goes, but convention is invaluable for the way it unites the Mennonite Church. Gathering pools our resources, energizes us for our daily Christian walk, and gives us a better picture of the body of Christ. Convention gives us a sense of who we are, who we’d like to become in Christ, and how Christ can work through us for that transformation to occur.

All that transformation can be quite uncomfortable. It doesn’t feel good to know that I probably play a part, even in my silence, for people not feeling included in this community of faith. It doesn’t feel good to see ways I fall short of integrity. And it doesn’t feel good to hear about people my age checking out of the church. There is so much brokenness in me, in my peers, and in our church. But there is also great capacity to love, heal, and hope. I felt that work begin at convention, and it will continue at our home congregations and communities.

I left convention examining how am I to respond to being chosen by God. In what ways am I broken? How I can take what I’ve been blessed with to bless others? What does it mean to put on the full armor of God? Being a child of God comes with great expectation. I am reminded of this each time I pick up my rock that I carried throughout convention. As light reflects off my polished rock, I’m encouraged to make my life a reflection of God’s love. The time is now to joyfully fulfill my obligation to live the call! Will you join me?

Photos provided by Karisa Martin and David Landis

Filed Under: Blog Tagged With: Sheldon Good

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