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Read the articles online:

• Following Christ’s call from Bally to Bogota– Jessica Walter
• Don’t be afraid to ask– Noel Santiago
• Pull over and let’s ask some questions– Sheldon Good
• Walking boldly into our future– Joe Hackman
• Sitting at a table with the ideal church– Gwen Groff
• Leave it behind, so we can live the call– Daniel Landes
• Recognizing ministries as more than organizations– Gay Brunt Miller
• 32 years of caring, sharing and volunteering– Sara J. Kolb
• The body at work– Dottie Reed
• A call of courage and confidence, not comfort– Jenifer Eriksen Morales
• A four year process ends with an “amen”– Felicia Moore
• “It is time for creative new thinking.”– Mary Lou Cummings
• A truthful journey that’s just beginning– Erin Odgers

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Jessica Walter

At 3 a.m. on June 14, 2007 several assailants broke through a skylight and into the Bogota Mennonite Church office of Justapaz: the Christian Center for Justice, Peace, and Nonviolent Action. Upon entering, they disabled the security and surveillance system and proceeded to steal two of Justapaz’s thirteen computers. The computers stolen were the two containing the most sensitive information including documented cases of political violence and churches active in courageous social justice work. They also held information on Justapaz staff, including Janna Hunter Bowman (Documentation and Advocacy Coordinator of Justapaz) and individuals connected with their documentation project entitled, “A Prophetic Call: Colombian Protestant Churches Document Their Suffering and Their Hope.” Later that day, after making phone calls to colleagues in both the United States and Colombia in order to coordinate emergency response between Bogota and Washington, D.C., a troubled yet remarkably calm Janna Hunter Bowman sat down with me to talk about her work and her life in Colombia.

Janna immediately explained that this robbery was just one in a series of politically motivated break-ins of human rights organizations that will not likely be fully investigated. It is not in the best interest of Colombia’s government to do so. With tears in her eyes, Janna noted the increased danger that people connected to Justapaz now face, as well as the reaffirmation of Justapaz’s conviction to follow Christ’s example of non-violence, calling for repentance, and seeking a just peace through contributing to conflict transformation in Colombia.

Justapaz is a 17-year-old peace ministry of the Mennonite Church of Colombia that “contributes to a culture of respect for human dignity and peacebuilding” in Colombia. Justapaz has eight full-time staff who work with a wide range of conflict transformation initiatives at local, regional, national, and international levels. These initiatives include conscientious objection, conflict mediation, peace training and education, the development of a network of peace churches, and a documentation project and national and international advocacy.

Janna describes herself as a daughter of Bally (PA) and an Anabaptist Mennonite by both tradition and choice. When she first learned of the struggles in Colombia, she had been struggling with a sense of sadness around the church’s shortcomings in following Christ’s call to right relationships and peace. In 2000, the Mennonite Church of Colombia wrote a letter to Mennonite Church USA asking to join them in prayer and action to stop a bill proposed in Congress that they predicted would further complicate the already troubled situation in Colombia. Janna read this letter and felt a desire to learn more about Colombia and the Colombian Mennonite Church because she saw in them a “radical obedience to Christ.”

The bill, titled “Plan Colombia,” was passed later that year. While the bill was officially intended to help Colombia put an end to the narcotics market and stop the internal war, it gave over 80% of the total $3.3 billion proposed in aid to military forces. As a result, the conflict between guerrilla entities and the government, its army, and paramilitaries, has been heightened. As civilians are caught in the middle of the conflict and victimized by all sides, churches are among those targeted. As churches help those around them, they are often perceived as challenging those in power. For example, if a church is giving aid to a victim, they may be seen as challenging the perpetrator. “As we amplify voices of the victims, we are targeted,” explains Janna, referring to the attack on the Justapaz office.

In 2001 Janna left the United States to go to Colombia. She humorously recalled that she really did not understand anything about Colombia or even speak the language very well, but felt an “undeniable sense of needing to be there.” Her first tasks in Columbia included starting a sister church program and working on international education, including sending action alerts and creating delegations. Janna returned to the United States in 2004.

Approximately 80% of the political violence in Colombia occurs in rural areas. There are many small churches scattered throughout these areas. When infractions began to occur, many of these churches sought aid from their national denominational offices, but many of these offices chose to do nothing. In an act of resiliency, they sought help elsewhere and began talking with the Mennonite Church of Colombia. In 2003, Justapaz partnered with the peace branch of the Evangelical Council of Colombia Churches – the Commission for Restoration Life and Peace – to report on the violence related to armed conflict as it affects churches. They joined together again in 2006 to further document the violence and update their report through a joint program, and it was at this time that Janna returned to Columbia. She described her work with the Columbian people as a “powerful and energizing experience [that] keeps taking me back.”

The joint Justapaz and Evangelical Council of Churches documentation project is largely run by 30-35 volunteers across five regions in Colombia. Each region has a volunteer coordinator and a team of trained volunteers who document their own communities. These volunteers are pastors, teachers, housewives, lawyers, banana vendors, and other everyday people who risk their safety to record the human rights infractions in their country. Justapaz’s documentation volunteer training program includes a look at the biblical models for recording life stories, the scripture’s perspective on the value of human life, and Christian responses to the suffering of God’s children in times of war. The program also addresses issues of fear, what it takes to do proper documentation, and what permissions are necessary in order to record and then tell someone’s story.

Janna explained that the program she coordinates not only documents and denounces violence, but also announces hope through reporting on social restoration and peacebuilding initiatives carried out by local churches amidst the violence. “It is incredibly humbling and a sacred privilege to be able to accompany these faithful servants as they live out sacrificial obedience joyfully, even when it means risking their own lives,” she said.

Janna loves the people of Colombia and feels a deep kinship with them. She values the friendships she has developed with people she profoundly respects and highlighted her appreciation for the opportunities she has every day to learn from the “prophets, saints, and everyday heroes that war creates.”

As we wrapped up our interview, Janna talked about her hopes for support from the congregations of Franconia Conference. She suggested that a simple way to support our Colombian brothers and sisters would be to read, “A Prophetic Call: Colombian Protestant Churches Document Their Suffering and Their Hope (available at mcc.org),” and pray for the victims, perpetrators, and peacemakers. “I invite churches to listen to their stories and consider the Colombian faithfulness as a part of their own, intertwined through faith and policies.” Janna also extended an invitation for people to visit her and her husband Jess, who is a Regional Director for Witness for Peace, in Colombia.

Janna returned for a third time to Colombia on June 15, 2007 after a two week break she had taken in order to take a course at Eastern Mennonite University’s Summer Peace-building Institute and visit with family in Southeastern Pennsylvania. Janna plans to finish her term in Colombia through Mennonite Central Committee in 2009. Upon her return, Janna hopes to attend seminary and focus on peace studies.

photos provided by Janna Hunter Bowman

Noel Santiago, Executive Minister
nsantiago@mosaicmennonites.org

I love questions.

I confess to being a bit “odd” this way. Shouldn’t I love answers more? One time I waited 11 years for the answer to a question I had! When it came it wasn’t so much that I found the answer, rather, it found me; like when in a little league baseball game the ball happens to “‘hit”’ the bat of the hitter.

Questions can evoke more questions, stimulate insight and revelation, cause deeper thinking and reflection. Questions can also evoke anger and hostility, generate anxiety, and surface insecurities. Questions can cover or communicate what’s really on our minds.

“So what does Franconia Mennonite Conference do anyway?” Conference leaders hear this question frequently, especially at budget time. Many persons may question why their congregations are sending money to the conference, because they don’t know what the conference does. Still, they send it. And so first let me say, “Gracias!” For others, there’s an experience of the value and meaning of the conference’s work with fewer questions about connection. Again, I say, “Gracias!” Let’s consider some factors of familiarity.

Conrad Kanagy, in the recent Mennonite Church Membership Profile, found that most congregational members (the persons people in the “pew”) are more familiar with their congregation than any other entity within Mennonite Church USA. This is understandable and good news. About 35% of members are familiar with the denomination – that is, the larger church “out there” and especially the Mission Network.

Many persons also relate to Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) on a regular basis. It is a commonly held belief that MCC is a part of the Mennonite Church. It is, and it isn’t. It is, in that many Anabaptist groups participate with and in MCC, including Mennonite Church USA. It isn’t, in that it is not an official agency of Mennonite Church USA like organizations such as Mennonite Education Agency, Mennonite Publishing Network, Mennonite Mutual Aid, and Mennonite Mission Network.

Lastly, only 12% of members understand and relate to area conferences and/or districts, the so-called “middle judicatory” of the denomination. That’s what we are at Franconia Mennonite Conference. But Franconia Conference is much more than a middle judicatory. Together, we are the stories you are reading in this Intersections. Together we are a network of 41 congregations and growing; 23 Conference Related Ministries (CRM), as Gay Brunt Miller writes about; 10 (and growing) Partners in Mission from Montgomery County, PA to places further away like Mexico, Haiti, and Indonesia.

We are together those who walk alongside congregations when searching for a pastor, credentialing leaders, or providing interim ministers to help guide congregations through difficult but necessary transitions. Together we are seeking to follow the mission statement the conference’s delegates have affirmed: “Equipping Leaders to Empower Others to Embrace God’s Mission.” Still, for many, this leaves the question: “But what does the conference actually do?” Well, ask your pastor. Ask the person sitting next to you in church. Ask the person leading one of the CRM’s featured in this issue of Intersections. Ask a Conference Board member, Conference staff, or Conference committee member. Ask the editor, the guest editor of this issue is Sheldon Good, of Intersections by responding to one of the articles.

Take the lead and a first small step to find out the response to your questions about Franconia Mennonite Conference. As always, with questions, expect to receive a response that may lead to and perhaps will illicit another question, insight, thought, or possibility.

Editors Note: For more information about Conrad Kanagy’s research check out Herald Press’s Road Signs for the Journey, which Partner in Mission Pastor Leonard Dow of Oxford Circle Mennonite Church in Philadelphia says “offers a guide that prayerfully positions us, both individually and congregationally, for the harvest that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ promises!”

Sheldon Good, Salford
sheldoncg@goshen.edu

I love traveling. I love the questions that emerge while traveling. Coming off of a three month cross-cultural in Cambodia, I am used to being on the move. Remembering back to my work with Franconia Conference last summer, the times I was able to travel provided me with my fondest, most poignant memories. I acknowledge it: I am part of the dynamic of “Generation Y.”

On the first Friday morning of June, Steve Kriss and Jessica Walter picked up a tan rental minivan across from the Conference Center in Souderton. For the next 34 hours, they would drive me and three other young adults – Felicia Moore, Krista Ehst, and Ale Lopez – on Interstates 80 and 94 on our way to Minneapolis. From the moment we began piling our luggage – and the six of us – in the minivan, until we arrived back on Thursday evening, we were haunted with questions.

It didn’t take long. As we cruised the Northeast Extension, the cell phones came out. “We’re driving to Minneapolis. Yes, we’re driving,” “We’re going to hang out with a church that’s Mennoniting,” “No, I don’t know where we’re sleeping,” “Yes, there are six of us in a minivan,” “I’m not really sure when we’ll be back,” “Actually, I just met half of these people.” We all struggled to answer questions about “what are you doing?” After layovers at Quaker Steak & Lube, Cici’s Pizza, the Goshen Co-op Market, The Electric Brew, and a cheese shop in Wisconsin, we arrived in the twin cities at 7:00 pm, Saturday evening. Our group probably overwhelmed Mark and Amy Van Steenwyck when we stormed unabashedly giddy, having traveled for two straight days.

Mark is the leader of Missio Dei (Latin for “God’s mission”) – a church plant that is joining Mennonite Church USA and has connected with Franconia Conference through Emergent Village connections. The Saturday night of our arrival marked the second gathering of Mark’s “Christarchy” fellowship.

As the six of us Pennsylvanians and eight Minnesotans lounged on couches in the Van Steenwyck’s living room, we continued our theme of questions at Mark’s “Christarchy” gathering, which is a discussion that strives to mesh Christianity and anarchism. Mark asked the group, “What are the abandoned places and who are the abandoned people in your neighborhood?” and “what’s keeping you from ministering to them?”

An area college student expressed her struggle between a call to minister to the homeless and her mother’s nervousness for her safety; a 30-something man, wearing clothes he designed himself told of his struggles as a youth pastor in an affluent community; Steve admitted he doesn’t know how to reach out to his diverse community in Philadelphia’s Mount Airy neighborhood; meanwhile, a woman from Peru held a side conversation with Ale in Spanish.

The discussion lasted two hours and culminated in a barrage of snacks; among them was our gift of a Mrs. Benner’s funny cake from Landis’ Supermarket in Telford, PA.

Missio Dei worships publicly on Sunday evenings in the basement of a coffee shop on the West Bank of Minneapolis. We attended the first gathering of these 18 diverse persons – a third of which included our group – in their new space where the walls still hold posters from the days when it was a movie rental outlet.

The worship of this eclectic group of people is informal. There is singing. There are questions. People walk around. We were clearly worshipping together, as the role of “worship leader” was shared around the circle. Afterwards, a guy told Steve about how he’d given up on church but now finds hope within this setting, within Anabaptist values. One woman even mentioned that she felt safe in this space even though her family had experienced abuse within the church.

On Tuesday morning we said farewell to our newfound friends and set off through the corn fields of Iowa. The Beatles, Linkin Park and Jay- Z, salsa music, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, marked our venture through the high plains as we ended up in Des Moines. Our primary task here was to visit Eastern Mennonite University (EMU) student and Ministry Inquiry Program (MIP) participant John Tyson from the Souderton congregation who is interning at Christ Community Church, which recently joined Central Plains Mennonite Conference.

Before visiting, John had warned me, “These guys are different,” referring to the church’s three pastors. It didn’t take long to live up to this statement, as we had the privilege of meeting up with John and pastors Kent McDougal and Mike Gulker at their favorite coffee shop, which doubles as a bar. As U2 tunes blasted and nearby college students acted like stereotypical college students, the discussion around our table started rolling, questions were asked, and if you didn’t bring your “A Game,” you were left struggling to keep up. The conversation was intense.

Steve, John, and I stayed up until about 3:00 am that night discussing the summer’s challenges. “I think I have already read about 3,000 pages since being here [two weeks],” he said. John isn’t only participating in the Ministry Inquiry Program to learn how to read more effectively. He is partially, maybe mostly, learning how to lead a congregation more effectively. “I’m learning what it means and how important it is to have a liturgy, how to be a worship leader without a lectern.”

John’s learning to intelligently discuss academic theology with Mike, his supervisor, who graduated from Duke University. He says, “Mike told me to ask him, ‘what the heck are you guys talking about?’ whenever I want.” John, I feel like I don’t ask that question enough, especially at church.

After we made sure to visit a coffee shop the next morning – we had done that in every city so far – we headed east on Interstate 80 for Goshen, IN to visit Jordan Good, a member of the Bally congregation, and like John, a sophomore at EMU and MIP participant at Walnut Hill Mennonite Church. The only time our theme of questions didn’t blatantly arise during trip was when we met with Jordan and his supervising pastor, Jane Buller, in the couch-clad youth room at Walnut Hill. Our conversation varied from women in leadership to issues with roadside church signs. “No one from the community is going to come if they don’t know when our worship service is,” she said.

I quickly chimed in about how Salford (my home congregation) recently had to take their sign down on Route 113; Jordan recalled that Bally bought our sign from Salford but hasn’t installed it; Ale mentioned how Philadelphia Praise Center just got a new sign but had gone without one for months; and Steve, Felicia, Krista, and Jessica all agreed that their home congregations had sign issues. Eight people, eight churches, eight sign problems. It was an issue worth noting.

As we left north Goshen in search of Das Dutchman Essenhaus (an Amish-style restaurant), I unearthed the metaphor – back to our theme of questions – this poses for the Mennonite Church: What holds us back from telling people who we are and what we’re about? What prevents us from descriptively identifying ourselves in what seems to be such a simple, trivial matter? Maybe there is some centripetal force that is keeping something in, something that longs to be released. Remembering the beginning of our trip when none of us could describe who we were or what we were doing, maybe we should have put a sign on our van: An entourage on the move. Pull over, and let’s ask some questions.

Joe Hackman, Salford
aj_hackman@yahoo.com

I’m a young(er) adult. And like many of my peers, I often bemoan how our tradition often
seems more interested in studying the past than dreaming of the future. However, a week spent in San Jose, CA as a delegate has helped to re-frame a few past perceptions.

I believe the Adult Delegate Assembly was a time of soul formation for the new denomination. Remember, we are only six years old! As we discussed resolutions pertaining to health care, creation care, and ecumenism, it was evident that the soul of this new denomination continues to take shape. The decisions made at these sessions will determine how future generations understand themselves as a church, and will inform how we dream about our future.

Besides delegate sessions, I was encouraged by speakers in both the adult and youth worship services. Shane Hipps, a first generation Mennonite from Arizona, was one of these speakers. On Thursday morning, Shane shared pieces of his life journey that have led him to Anabaptism. Towards the end of his inspiring talk, Shane offered this lament: “I wish I didn’t have to work so hard to find you.” This phrase has stuck with me over the last few weeks. I hear it replayed in my head virtually every day. Why was it that Shane had to look so hard to find us? Shane grew up in a Christian home in North America.

Yet by the time he was an adult, his only encounter with Anabaptism was from sitting in his mother-in-law’s Amish decorated living room. Shane’s story was just one of a few I heard through speakers and conversations of how North American Christians are looking hard to find people like us. They wish a Christian group existed that believed in the centrality of Jesus, in the power of community, and in the possibility of peace. But they simply don’t know we exist. The way of life that we have been striving to practice throughout the last 500 years simply remains a hidden treasure that much of the Christian church would love to find.

San Jose was a place to find encouragement and form conviction. I’m encouraged that our denominational leaders are teaching us to honor and learn from valuable parts of our past; but also, they make it clear that we are called to boldly walk into a future that might look very different from our past. And I’m convicted to sing a favorite song of my childhood: “Hide it under a bushel, No! I want to let it shine.” Many North American Christians are in search of a faith practiced from our perspective. And they should not have to look so hard to find it.

Gwen Groff , Bethany
bethanym@vermontel.net

I was looking forward to San Jose for several reasons, some more noble than others. Coming from rural Vermont, I wanted to watch a big city fireworks display on July 4th, sing hymns in a gathering with more than two tenors, and take in some great workshops.

The part I was most surprised to enjoy, though, were the delegate sessions. One day, the youth joined around our tables, and we learned from the young man who joined our group about his ideal church, which includes a chocolate bar. I then realized that our table was my ideal church.

We had racial and age diversity, and we represented the most amazing assortment of church models: one led by a white male lead pastor; one with a co-pastor team, a man and woman, both married, but not to each other; one with a woman lead pastor; one with no paid leadership; one with no members; along with a retirement community. The member-less church was made up entirely of homeless or mentally ill people, and their pastor said that given the issues their congregation deals with, they could not possibly draw membership lines between who’s in and who’s out.

Our group sometimes felt like we were often rubber-stamping decisions that had already been made before we came to San Jose. We were usually presented one side of an issue, which allowed most items to pass without much dissent. While this creates a sense of unity in this new denomination, it seems to make delegates’ work less vital. One of the delegates in our group noted, “Surely these topics were hotly debated in the Constituency Leadership Council before being presented here. Why aren’t we allowed to hear any of those dissenting voices?”

An exception to this pattern, however, was when we discussed, but didn’t vote on, a statement that calls for an, “end [to] the practice of disciplining or expelling congregations.” Perhaps because no vote was expected opposing sides were presented, as two conference ministers offered differing perspectives. As a signer of the statement, I thought I had looked at it from every angle. But the statements of the ministers, the reflections of my table group, and the widely varied thoughts offered in the open mic discussion, enlarged my perspective.

I suspect I was not the only one at San Jose sitting with the ideal church. I wonder if others wished we had a little more work to do together.

photo by David Landis

Daniel Landes, Doylestown
daniel.landes@emu.edu

The Mennonite church is dying.

Or should I say, my Mennonite church is dying. I don’t mean my specific congregation but the Mennonite church that I have known all my life. The same church in which I was raised as a child, baptized, and welcomed into as a member, is facing certain extinction, and yet that gives me hope for the future of Mennonites in this country.

I didn’t come to this conclusion in a week, but my trip as a delegate to San Jose for the Mennonite Church USA Convention opened my eyes to this reality. When Mennonites from all over the country gathered for a week of business, worship, and seminars, the signs of extinction were clear.

The church that I believe will die is a Mennonite church that refuses to let go of 300 years of tradition. This church was in clear view in San Jose, but at the same time I witnessed another church in San Jose that has given me hope for the future. Both churches were evident when the 2006 Mennonite Member Profile was presented in a delegate session. Seventy percent of Mennonites in the United States are over the age of 45. This is in contrast with a survey in 1972 when only 46% of us were over the age of 45. The end result of this trend is a church that literally dies out, but I don’t think that is the future.

Another part of this profile was a look at a sample of Racial/Ethnic congregations. The results from these congregations present anything but a dying church, either physically or spiritually. During the past five years, around a quarter of new members who have joined the church have fit into the Racial/Ethnic category. These churches and their members are more likely to be evangelically minded and less tied down to their local communities.

This became clear when I had the opportunity near the end of my week in San Jose to meet with some young adults from Franconia Mennonite Conference. This included some members of the Philadelphia Praise Center, a multi-racial congregation and Franconia Conference’s newest member congregation. In conversation with these young adults I saw hope for the future of the Mennonite church. Here were Mennonites who were truly focused on the reign of God with none of the apathy that seems to weigh many of our congregations down. I also found this passion for a Mennonite church that looks different in other ways at the Convention. In worship we sang songs in many languages and in many styles. Speakers challenged us to combine the strengths of our Mennonite heritage – such as our peace witness – with a desire to live and share the love of Jesus.

I ultimately left San Jose wondering: how can this aging church I know, tied down from centuries of being separated from society and maintaining uniformity in theology and practice, survive?

I went to the convention as a delegate and enjoyed participating in the sessions, but what I will remember from my time in San Jose was meeting the members from Philadelphia Praise Center. The church will not become extinct if we can learn from churches such as Philadelphia Praise Center. The problem is that we must leave behind much of what it means to be a Mennonite if we want to follow their example. Are we ready to let the church mired in tradition die and embrace a Mennonite church that will live the call?