Mosaic Mennonites

Missional - Intercultural - Formational

Call to Ministry Stories

A grandfather’s legacy: Lessons from a milk truck bookstore

by

Joseph Hackman, Salford

When I was young I heard much about a milk truck. My grandfather purchased a milk truck in 1947 and converted it to a bookstore on wheels. He traveled the roads of Montgomery, Bucks, and Lehigh counties and sold Bibles, devotionals, and children’s books.

A Christian bookstore on wheels seems a bit antiquated today. If my grandfather were starting out in ministry now, I’m not sure that he would convert a milk truck into a bookstore to communicate Good News. But even though his methods might seem outdated today, stories from the milk truck and the lessons that go with them have informed my own sense of call. And as my licensing now becomes another part of my own story as a pastor, I reflect on how the milk truck will always be part of my journey.

Good News

Traveling the roads of Montgomery, Bucks, and the Lehigh counties, the bookstore on wheels always gave my grandfather opportunities to come in contact with those who never heard the Good News. His method was simple. Park in a neighborhood and knock on doors and invite them to visit the truck. I share my grandfather’s passion to share Christian faith with those who have not grown up in the church. Nothing gives me more joy than sharing Good News with those who have not grown up in the church, or with those who desire to hear it again for the first time.

Ecumenical Relationships

In 1989 my parents bought the bookstore from my grandfather, and my family spent many hours working there. The bookstore gave me an awareness of how small my Mennonite tradition is. My grandparents and parents formed close relationships with Lutherans, Presbyterians, Baptists of all stripes, and Catholics. Forming these relationships gave me an understanding from an early age of the diversity and beauty of the larger Christian church. The experience of my grandfather, and later my parents, modeling ecumenical relationships has given greater understanding of who I am as an Anabaptist Mennonite, as well as a better understanding for who I am as a part of the larger body of faith.

Risk Taking

We may not see milk trucks on wheels serving as bookstores today. But when my grandfather first started the ministry, he was looking for ways to be culturally relevant that would meet people’s needs. In the 1940s, there were few Christian bookstores, and even fewer mobile Christian bookstores. My grandfather wasn’t afraid to take creative risks, in business or in ministry, to communicate the Gospel. This creative risk taking is something that informs my own call to ministry. The church has often held a posture of resistance to culture. Going forward, I hope to discern with congregations when to resist and when to engage culture.

In my office I have a picture of my grandfather standing next to his milk truck. Wherever I go in ministry, I hope to keep the picture close. It reminds me of my grandfather and his life in Allentown. But it also reminds me of my own calling to ministry. It reminds me of my calling to share the Good News, especially to those who have not heard it. It reminds me of the importance of building relationships with Christians from all backgrounds. And it reminds me to take risks in efforts to communicate the Gospel. I’m blessed to have the example of my grandfather be part of my own call to ministry, and I’m hopeful for the ways this story will continue to inform my future journey as a pastor.

A long distance out of the way: Decades of living life lead to a call to pastor

by

Donna Merow, Ambler

Edward Albee wrote, “Sometimes it’s necessary to go a long distance out of the way in order to come back a short distance correctly.” This describes my journey to pastoral ministry.

In the seventh grade an aptitude test indicated “nun” as a suitable career choice. This is not what most adolescent girls dream of becoming, especially if they are Protestant. It took me decades to realize that there were few other options available in 1970 to young women with a decidedly religious bent and even longer to answer the call to pastor. I went to college, dropped out, got married, raised two daughters, finished my bachelor’s degree, was diagnosed with early stage cancer, began a teaching career, earned a graduate degree in education and became a grandmother.

All the while I was actively involved in churches—Methodist, Baptist, Mennonite (where I was rebaptized thirty years ago), Episcopalian, Presbyterian—and the communities they served. Many people along the way encouraged me to consider seminary (none more persistently than former Ambler pastor Mel Thomas), but I always had a ready excuse.

For twenty years I was a stay-at-home mom with an incomplete degree and lots of time to invest in the lives of young people through the scouting and Odyssey of the Mind programs. By the time I finished my undergraduate work, my firstborn was beginning her’s; her sister was four years behind. As a first generation college graduate, I wanted this to be the best possible experience for my girls.

Although I had been collecting catalogues from area seminaries, the timing did not seem right. After our youngest graduated, I was able to spend several months trying on a pastoral role when Sharon Wyse Miller was granted a sabbatical. I wanted to see what it was like to prepare and deliver a message each week before I could seriously entertain the idea of attending seminary full-time. It was a wonderfully rich summer for me as I applied many of the pedagogical techniques I had practiced in the classroom to Jesus’ teaching through parables. At its conclusion, I wrestled with God about seminary.

I learned two important lessons from my undergraduate experience that informed my decision. The first was that I could not study in isolation; I needed to have one foot in the “real” world. The other was my desire for face-to-face interaction. I am an introvert by nature, so while distance education was comfortable and rewarding, it did not afford the opportunities for growth that I needed.

I found a good fit with Biblical’s LEAD MDiv degree. An alternative program designed for working adults, this allowed me to continue teaching and to build relationships with the members of cohort 12 with whom I have all of my courses.

I am old enough to be my classmates’ parent, but we enjoy a symbiotic relationship. I have the life experience and they have the tech savvy. It has proved to be a winning combination. With only a year of seminary completed, I did not expect to be looking for a position in a church for several years, but God had other plans. Sharon announced her planned retirement at the end of August at our January congregational meeting. Her announcement prompted me to complete the necessary paperwork to be considered as a candidate.

A month later, I learned that I would not have a job come September. The economic downturn made it necessary to cut my position at school. Unemployment made it necessary for me to trust God’s providence and possible to see the search process through to completion. It also freed me to do many things grading papers never allowed time for—a week at camp with special needs adults, putting siding on a Habitat house, helping to build a playground.

On October 4, the congregation that I have called “home” for a decade called me as its next pastor. It has been a long and convoluted path to pastoral ministry, but my installation service on November 8 confirmed that this is where I belong. I am excited by the possibilities before us as we live out the Gospel and respond to Christ’s missional call here in Ambler and beyond. Thanks be to God!

A familiar irony: Coaxed to leave the path of security

by

Arnold Derstine, Franconia

My call to ministry has similarities to my first experience with a high ropes course as a young adult leader nearly 15 years ago. My great fear of heights kept my feet firmly planted on the ground as one risk-taker after another shimmied up the tree to accept the challenge. I was content and quite comfortable in my role as “encourager,” coaxing others on from the safety and security of the solid ground below. Yet in spite of the overwhelming sense of panic and fear that gripped me to think about trying it myself, there was a still small voice deep within me calling and inviting me to step out and do it. After relentless prodding by the group I reluctantly stepped into the harness and cautiously shimmied up the tree. Somehow perched high above the ground desperately clinging to anything I could hold onto I was able to see with more clarity. It was clear that I prefer to be in control and that I tend to choose the pathway to comfort and security. However, as I cautiously eased my grip it also became clear there is greater freedom, life, adventure and potential when learning to trust God by surrendering my control.My journey in ministry began innocently enough as I accepted a three year term on our congregation’s Mission Commission in 1992. I was immediately given the task of being the point person in developing a relationship with our sister church in Puebla, Mexico. Within six months I was making my first of many trips to Puebla. In the following years my world view was challenged, expanded and reshaped by my interaction and relationships with our brothers and sisters from Mexico. I became increasingly dissatisfied with the “me generation” values that influenced my life and I began to more fully open myself to God’s leading and direction. Yet even this new openness did not prepare me for where God was leading.In the fall of 1996 our church leadership began to discuss the idea of sending a family from Franconia to Puebla as a next step in our sister church relationship. Although I felt a sense of God’s call the very first time I heard the idea I resisted by tightening my grip. My excuses for not considering a move to Puebla seemed valid and logical. Neither my wife nor I spoke any Spanish. I lacked training and formal education. I thoroughly enjoyed my occupation and had invested nearly 15 years with the same company. Our stage of life as parents with young children seemed to suggest this just wasn’t the right time. Truth be told, when I honestly allowed myself to process the possibility of pulling up roots from all that was familiar for the uncertainty and unknown of Mexico it seemed more terrifying than the experience with the ropes course several years earlier. Yet at the same time, with familiar irony, there was another voice deep within me encouraging and calling me to loosen my grip.After months of prayer, discernment and seeking counsel we came to believe it was God calling us to let go and set out on a new journey in Mexico. Mexico was a place of growth, learning, exploring and having our gifts affirmed. Our faith was both stretched and strengthened as we learned to minister and be ministered to in a new context. As God graciously transformed our lives we were blessed to see other lives powerfully transformed as well. Many times throughout our eight years in Mexico God would again invite me to surrender my control and more fully trust in God’s grace and goodness.In the fall of 2005 we returned to Franconia for a time of discernment, feeling God had released us from our ministry in Mexico, but not yet knowing what was next. With much prayer and counsel from trusted leaders and our discernment team we accepted our current assignment at Franconia Mennonite Church where I serve as an Associate Pastor with a focus on Mission and Outreach. Today I get excited about ministries like Celebrate Recovery and our Spanish outreach which open doors for the church to share God’s love with our wider community. I’m convinced there are many people outside our church walls who long to know Jesus and desire to be part of a life-changing community of faith. Yet I suspect that these persons too have fears and insecurities that keep them holding tightly to what seems most familiar and comfortable. So I continue to think of myself as an encourager coaxing others on in this journey of faith. However, I too continue to learn as I go. I’m learning that God’s love and God’s path often call me to let go of the comforts and familiarity I seek so that his blessing can flow through me. I’m learning that God is still encouraging me to loosen my grip. But I’m also discovering that in the process there is greater freedom, life and potential that God always meant for us to enjoy.

Stepping on rakes: Reflecting on a journey of adventure

by

Wayne Speigle, Bally

When I was a kid I had an imaginary friend, which embarrassed me later because it seemed weird. Maybe it was, but it got me used to being slightly off, like when I have strange dreams that seem to mean something if I can only figure it out. That was the interior life of a farm boy from western PA. Looking back, it seemed like I was always leaning toward something, though I seldom knew exactly what. Somewhere along the way I got the impression that an imagination is something of a call to ministry, if not a qualification.One evening, waiting for a ride to Bible school, I stepped on a garden rake intentionally to see if what happened in cartoons would also happen in real life. That was not the last time I tried something just to see what would happen. Sometimes the result was painful but usually there was an “aha!” and I always learned something. I kept stepping on rakes through college at Eastern Mennonite and voluntary service (MVS). Fortunately there was often more joy and insight than facial injury. Joanne Brenneman and I met in MVS, married the following summer and moved to Richmond, Va., two weeks later. That too was an adventure – we knew almost no one and thought we might be there for two or three years.What fun to marry someone with a similar sense of adventure, who can walk into a rundown house and imagine what we could do. After a semester pilgrimage to Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary I finished my master’s studies at Union Seminary in Richmond. Joanne spied the rake of medical school, then stepped out.We did not need imaginary friends because we made hundreds in Richmond. I became pastor of First Mennonite, a church that accepts being Anabaptist and adventurous as the same thing. I have had the privilege of assuming an ancient Book with stories of God’s people can somehow enlighten our path, and finding that with imagination, it does.We had not envisioned that our two daughters would grow up with southern accents. After 18 years in Richmond, we looked north and spied a land across the Potomac. Joanne accepted a position as radiologist at Doylestown Hospital, where her father had practiced, and we found a place by the Indian Creek near Harleysville, Pa. This too was adventure. It is fair to say that something in our experience and outlook had us feeling both akin to and at odds with a traditional Mennonite setting. We found many people who like to laugh and dream, even though we might look around sometimes to see who is watching.I accepted a call to pastor West Swamp in Quakertown, Pa. The leaders of the congregation and I knew that I might stand alongside the mold of traditional pastor but would not fit into it. There was enough imagination that we could put together the beginnings of a new congregational structure and vision where leadership and responsibility are shared. I count it success that after six years most people would laugh at my humor. They gave me a rock from the oldest foundation of the church as a gift and the thought of that ebenezer still moves me. The foundation of a new core leadership had been laid, both fresh and deeply trusted.Soon after I went to West Swamp, the Eastern District Conference asked me to be moderator. When I was introduced as having also been moderator of Virginia Conference, one colleague murmured that I must be a slow learner. Sometimes it is more fun that way. A third term on the Penn View School board also keeps me among people who like to look beyond what is, who like to learn as much as the students do.A few months between calls brought rest and an adjustment in our family’s identity. Visiting and preaching in other congregations, travel and time to catch up on projects has been a privilege, but there was always the question of “what next?” The Bally congregation had a similar experience. They asked me late this summer to be Interim Preaching Pastor, to provide some continuity while they move through their transition. I have agreed to journey with them while we both discern the next steps. So here in yet another place we get to imagine how the ancient stories are lived today and how God can speak to us in our dreams.

From mothering to shepherding: For God's gift and His call are irrevocable

by

Eva Kratz, Franconia

cekratz@comcast.net

I get my excitement and zest for life from studying and sharing God’s word that brings life, from my husband, our children and grandchildren and friends.I will always remember the first time the Lord showed me that he had a special calling for me to fulfill. At the age of 24, soon after I gave my life to the Lord, I was sitting on the side benches up front in our old sanctuary. As I sat there I became annoyed at the disinterest I saw in the audience. Sunday after Sunday I felt like I wanted to get up on the pulpit and to tell the people about the God that I knew. I wanted to say that he is alive and gives me excitement in knowing him. It was so strong that one time I put my hands on the side of my chair to hold me down.As we were raising our family of eight children (seven still living) and now 27 grandchildren, the Lord gave me Romans 11:29, “For God’s gift and His call are irrevocable.” For years I did not know what he was trying to tell me. It did not make sense with my understanding of the scriptures. Every time I felt like I lost my way and life was not working out the way it was supposed to be, he would have someone read that verse and I would just sit there and cry, knowing it was just for me and he didn’t forget his promise to me. I needed to somehow trust him to bring it to pass.In January 2000 I saw a church bulletin insert asking for volunteers to train for prison ministry. It was an icy winter night and I made it over to where it was held; when I arrived, there was no one there. I didn’t know if I had a wrong location or time. One thing I did know was that if I didn’t get this training I felt like my Spirit would die. The next day I called and discovered the meeting was re-scheduled because of icy conditions.I know that the prison is my pulpit. The sheep in my flock are behind bars. God’s presence is strong in prison and I love to see people’s lives changing as we study the scriptures together and learn from each other. As they share their broken, wounded lives with me, I see how the Word of God empowers, heals and leads them into seeking life instead of death. The Lord has done so much for me I want to pass it on to others.The vision that propels me to do what I am called to do is Ezekiel 34:16 & 31:

“I will search for the lost, and bring back the strays. I will bind up the injured and strengthen the weak, I myself will tend my sheep and have them lie down,” says the Sovereign Lord…“You my sheep…are my people, and I am your God.”

Recently my husband, Curtis, and I starting ministering in Graterford prison. It is a wonderful opportunity and an answer to prayer to minister together with Curtis. As we share our lives and the word of God with our sisters and brothers behind the prison doors the Lord amazes us each time with how he is moving and working with those that come out to the studies. It gives us great joy and we are thankful to be his vessels. One young man told us he was planning to take his life, but he just wanted to let us know that we gave him hope and he gave his heart to Jesus instead. What a wonderful God we serve!I am grateful for this opportunity to have the backing of my conference and my congregation in the ministry the Lord has called me for. I covet your prayer support and wisdom guidance as I go in the power of the Holy Spirit from our almighty heavenly Father. I know he is guiding my life into doing things I never would have dreamed of doing years ago. He is my praise!

With these signs from our God: Following God’s leading to Blooming Glen

by

Mary Nitzsche, Blooming Glen

mary@bgmc.net

mary.jpgAs a child, I loved to play church with my sister. We sang songs of faith, read scripture and I “preached.” It was not in the realm of my thinking or imagination at this early age that one day God would call me to be a pastor. My parents were people of deep faith in Jesus and served many years in either a congregational setting or in a Mennonite institution. Their love for Jesus and the Mennonite church inspired me to consider how I might serve the church.I was a shy child and slowly developed confidence and leadership gifts during my college and young adult years. I graduated from Hesston and Goshen colleges, served a year in voluntary service and gained work experience as an elementary school teacher and support staff at Goshen College before taking several classes at Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary (AMBS) to test an emerging call to ministry. When I became pregnant with our first child however, I put seminary on hold.By the time my husband, Wayne, completed his seminary training at AMBS and accepted a call to pastor Wooster (Ohio) Mennonite Church we had two young daughters and I was very content as a stay-at-home mom with a variety of opportunities to further develop my gifts as a lay person in the congregation.When my children were both enrolled in elementary school, I began sensing a call to ministry again, but I resisted, unsure that the timing to return to seminary was in the best interest of my children. The call persisted, and I decided to share it with Wayne and the elder team.One of the elders, Beulah, served as a mentor to help me further test my call and learn to own it as separate from Wayne’s call. She encouraged me to enroll at Ashland Theological Seminary as a next step in the discernment process. I experienced motivation, energy and joy through my seminary studies, accompanied by affirmation of my call. While at Ashland, I studied under professors and with students from other faith traditions which deepened my identity and theology as an Anabaptist/Mennonite.Near the end of my seminary experience, I was prepared to seek a position as a pastoral counselor when Ohio Mennonite Conference approached Wayne and I, to consider the regional pastor position. Though I did not have the proper credentials, training or experience for this role, Mark Weidner, Conference Minister, graciously encouraged me to accept the call later serving as an advocate and mentor. I stepped out in faith, believing that God would provide. For the next twelve years, I thoroughly loved ministering to pastors, lay leaders and congregations while using my counseling skills and developing other ministry skills.Another surprise came in November 2007 when the Franconia Conference consultant, working with the Blooming Glen Pastoral Transition Task Force, called to ask if I was open to a conversation regarding an associate pastor position. Again I wondered if I had the proper experience to serve on the pastoral team of a large congregation. I wondered if there would also be a ministry opportunity for Wayne. After naming my struggles to God and talking with Wayne, I felt led to step out in faith and test this new call.text-3.jpgAfter my interview, I felt cautiously optimistic, but the doubts and questions persisted. My family’s previous transitions were focused on Wayne’s call, not mine. It felt risky to move ahead without Wayne also securing a job. The invitation came for me to be a candidate. Wayne and I needed a sign to be sure of God’s direction. The following day, in a meeting, the devotional was about Abraham’s call to go, leave his security and follow God to a new land.Several mornings later I awoke earlier than normal with Proverbs 3:5-6 on my mind, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not unto your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he will direct your paths.”With these signs from our God, who works in surprising and mysterious ways inviting us to risk, I accepted the pastoral position at Blooming Glen and have confidence that God will continue to provide what is needed.photo by Kreg Ulery

From Iowa to Pennsylvania: Ministering along Interstate 80

by

Firman Gingerich, Blooming Glen
firman@bgmc.net

firman.jpgIn my late 20’s our pastor at Kalona Mennonite Church, Howard Keim, invited me to participle in a leadership apprentice relationship with him. Over several years, I would meet with him periodically to talk about books on ministry and leadership that we were reading. During this time, he invited me to participate in a wide range of congregational leadership experiences, such as writing Bible study guides, leading small groups, and teaching the youth baptism class. After some time he asked me if I would consider preaching on a Sunday morning.

I do not think he realized at the time how much this invitation to preach and engage in leadership exploration was confirming my internal journey. These leadership apprentice experiences were helping me respond to an inner call to some form of ministry that I had experienced as a senior in high school in the late 1960s. I credit a circle of young, dynamic high school teachers at Iowa Mennonite High School for helping me stay engaged with the church in this turbulent time. This early sense of call was very private and I shared it with no one until much later.

After college I spent eight years as an elementary school teacher in Montana and Iowa. Gratefully, Susan, my wife supported me in testing my sense of call to ministry for about five years. After several years, Kalona Mennonite Church sent us off to Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary with a solid blessing and a great deal of financial support to study and prepare for pastoral ministry.

In retrospect, I needed this sense of a public call to anchor me. I would not have had the courage to begin a journey of preparing for pastoral ministry without the support and blessing of our home church. I live with much awareness of how valuable a congregation is in influencing and shaping one’s call to ministry.

Now, 26 years later, Susan, and I find ourselves in Franconia Mennonite Conference; me as a Pastor at Blooming Glen Mennonite Church and Susan on the development staff at Christopher Dock Mennonite High School. In the last few months I have been asked often if Southeastern Pennsylvania was on my radar as a potential place to pastor. My first and easy answer is no. My pastoral ministry path has been along Interstate 80 in Iowa and Indiana; I guess I didn’t understand that Interstate 80 extended into the Keystone state. I was comfortable with the Midwest.

I think it is how I am wired to do ministry. In my own discernment with Susan and personal friends, I had decided to seek a new pastoral assignment beginning in late summer of 2007. In my pastoral ministry journey, I have grown to value and am enriched by patterns of multiple staff ministry. I made a decision that I wanted to continue in ministry in a multiple staff setting. This was an important factor for consideration when I was invited to begin exploratory conversations with folks at Blooming Glen Mennonite Church. It is no secret that ministry in a multiple staff team takes hard work and discernment from all. However, the mutual synergy and common vision that I have experienced from working with collaborative teams has transformed me tremendously.

I am eager to pay attention to ways God will continue to lead me, our pastoral team, and the lay leadership of Blooming Glen Mennonite Church to respond to God’s Spirit with hope and courage as we anchor our life together in Christ.

Following the call to “dance”: Stepping out in faith to God’s leading

by

Lorie Hershey, West Philadelphia
lorie@wpmf.com

I enjoyed dancing in my youth and now with my children, but it is not something I do in the presence of many. And yet the image of dancing intersects my relationship with God and experience of call; the harmonizing of movements with an overarching melody and rhythm. The draw of music connects deeply, awakening God’s spirit within. The desire to express the motion stirred by a song; the give and take required for partner dancing. There is something about the image and act of dancing that describes our relationships, both divine and human.

I’ve heard professional ballet dancers describe dance as always being a part of them. They were always twirling, skipping, moving to music that others could not hear. Similarly, I too have felt like God has always been a part of life even when I did not recognize the Spirit’s presence.

There was music stirring inside me moving me to twirl, skip: to dance. Many times that music got distorted, muted, or misplaced as the events of life overpowered it. There were times that I tuned out the music, but it remained. I now realize the music was God’s Spirit, inviting me to dance, calling me to ministry.

I felt an affinity for the church early in life as I witnessed my mother’s volunteer leadership work within my home congregation. I began active involvement in the church and found energy for church leadership and outward confirmation of my gifts. I felt the inner nudging of God. Yet it took me until my early thirties to recognize this as a call to ministry, let alone pastoral ministry. I accepted God’s invitation without fully knowing where the dance would lead. I tentatively stepped out and went to Eastern Mennonite Seminary.

In seminary, I began to find God’s deep grace and healing through spiritual direction and the writing of music. My husband, Brent, and I began providing music for liturgical dances during worship times and I found another step in my faith journey. While not being the one upfront dancing, I found that I was dancing through the music and it became a life-changing experience for me.

I found my relationship with God becoming more free and life-giving; while my call to pastoral ministry deepened and was affirmed. I was beginning to truly dance. Sure, there are still times of hesitancy and clumsiness–I’m sure I’ve stepped on God’s toes many a time–but I experience grace, courage, and coordination that could only come from God.

lhershey.jpgAs I discerned my call to West Philadelphia Mennonite Fellowship, I clearly heard God say: “Dance, Lorie, just dance.” And so again, I step out in faith not knowing exactly what the dance will look like; although one that will include some hip-hop for sure.

I continue to be energized by God’s calling to find our song, recognize Christ throughout our days, and be transformed by the Holy Spirit. It is exciting as we work together to create a life-giving dance, rooted in Christ, welcoming toward our neighbors, and working towards the Shalom of the city.