Mosaic Mennonites

Missional - Intercultural - Formational

call story

Family, nature, and service

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Sheryl (Hurst) Duerksen, Principal, Quakertown Christian School

QCS photo
Sheryl Duerksen with student Grant Souder.

I grew up on my family farm in Bowmansville, Pa. Through my parents and extended family, I learned the language of love. For an outgoing child who loved being around people, our farm provided a wonderful opportunity to be showered with love and attention.

Highlights of my childhood were being outdoors around the farm, in the creek, or riding bike. After college graduation, I joined my brother and three other young adults to ride bike across the US. We flew to Los Angeles, Ca. where we each dipped our back bicycle wheel in the Pacific Ocean. After riding 54 days and covering 3,600 miles, we arrived in Asbury Park, N.J. where we each put our front wheel in the Atlantic Ocean.

Church and service were also important and college summers provided opportunities to participate in voluntary service. I met my husband, Rick, when he moved to Philadelphia to participate in two years of voluntary service at Crossroads Community Center.

In 1989 I was introduced to Christian education when the Duerksen family moved to Camp Men-O-Lan. The core values of Quakertown Christian School (QCS) resonated with me and I was thrilled to be hired as a second grade teacher. Twenty-two years later I continue to enjoy my involvement in the ministry of QCS. Teaching and education are truly my passion! Two years ago, I moved into an administrative role and now serve as principal.

Education in a Christian school is exciting because a biblical dimension is added to daily routines; we are able to integrate the teachings of Jesus in every subject. When home, church, and school partner together, children will be blessed in their faith development. It is exciting to be part of a ministry that develops radical followers of Christ.

God’s “acolyte” in youth ministry

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by Scott Franciscus, Covenant Community

From an early age, church has played an important part in my life. Growing up in the Episcopal Church, which followed a consistent liturgy, and very rarely missing the early morning worship each Sunday, I sought to become as involved with the church service as possible. As soon as I was able after being confirmed, I became an acolyte (which means “helper” or “attendant” in Greek), also known as “altar-boy”. The role of the acolyte is to assist in the worship service by carrying a processional cross, lighting candles, helping to set up and clean up the altar for communion, holding the Gospel Book that the priest read from, swinging incense, and holding the collection plates after the offering was taken.

Throughout my years in middle school and high school, I continued to take on more responsibilities as an acolyte including reading the Old or New Testament liturgy or administering the shared communion cup during the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. Even though my family was proud of my involvement in the church and occasionally someone from the church would comment on my “future” in the church, I did not ever see myself “called” to formal ministry. While I stayed connected to the church during my high school and college years, it was done more out of obligation than desire.

When I started attending Messiah College—in part because it was close to home— ministry was not in my plans. I entered Messiah College as a declared accounting major. Since I enjoyed accounting and did well in my accounting classes in high school, it seemed like the perfect fit for me, especially since it seemed like the perfect profession so I could get the most out of life and accomplish my dreams. Little did I know at the time that it wasn’t about my dreams and what I wanted out of life.

While at Messiah, I became involved with a group called “I’m Worth Waiting For” which offered abstinence-presentations to health classes and church youth groups. During this time, God began instilling a passion in my heart to work with young people. At the time, the church I grew up in didn’t have a ministry to youth outside of Sunday School where I could go to talk with someone about faith or struggles, or even just to hang out.

The more opportunities I had connecting with youth, the more God called me to change who I was living my life for. Although I enjoyed working with youth and taking the Bible classes at Messiah, the last place I saw myself was in ministry. I made the decision that, regardless of how I felt God leading me, regardless of his gentle persistence, going into ministry was not an option.

It took almost failing out of college for me to realize that it wasn’t about what I wanted out of life. I can still see myself walking around the bases of a baseball field as the snow was gently falling, wrestling with God on why I was not the right person. I tried to convince him there were better people to be in ministry and explain why he didn’t need to call me.

God showed me that the call wasn’t about my goodness but his, that my decisions weren’t the best but his were, that it wasn’t about my goals but his call.  He showed me that no matter how far I tried to run, he would be there waiting for me.

It was then that I decided to follow his path and listen to Christ’s voice. It was then that I realized the abundant life Jesus Christ offers. What a joy it has been being God’s “acolyte” in youth ministry ever since!

Hound of heaven in hot pursuit

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Verle Brubaker, Swamp, pastorverle@justswamp.com

I fled Him down the nights and down the days
I fled Him down the arches of the years
I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind, and in the midst of tears
I hid from him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped and shot precipitated
Adown titanic glooms of chasmed fears
From those strong feet that followed, followed after
But with unhurrying chase and unperturbed pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat, and a Voice beat,
More instant than the feet:
All things betray thee who betrayest me.
“The Hound of Heaven,” Francis Thompson, 1893

I was from the earliest years called to service. I helped my mother teach Good News Clubs throughout the year, folded bulletins for church, taught Sunday School classes, led summer camps. My dream was to be David Livingstone, Jr., serving in the mission field as a medical doctor.

Growing up in a pastor’s family with three uncles as pastors and three prior generations serving as pastors in the Brethren in Christ Church is quite a legacy to live into. It was overwhelming. The last thing I wanted, growing up in that environment, was to be a pastor.

During my teen years the call came particularly clearly as my father was exiting one of his pastoral assignments. I can remember tearfully hearing the call and anxiously saying to myself, “This can’t be happening.”

Resistance to the call took many of the forms of adolescent rebellion. Like Francis Thompson wrote in The Hound of Heaven, I tried many diversions and pathways that ultimately proved futile.

As I entered college I pursued the dream of medical missions. Yet I could not resist the call. I do not know exactly what triggered the final surrender but it happened in the middle of my sophomore year at Messiah College. At that time I switched my major from pre-med to Bible. An interim pastorate between my sophomore and junior years, seminary experiences, and Voluntary Service assignments further affirmed the call and my response.

I have found joy in learning about God’s church and his call to it. I have a passion for the church to be the church, living out the kingdom of God to a needy world. I have learned that my role as pastor is to help the church become the vehicle of God’s grace to the world, a sign of God’s will for heaven being lived out here on earth.

That sense of call has kept me focused over the more than 30 years I have served the church in the pastoral role. I do not regret the surrender. As Francis Thompson found at the conclusion of his flight from the Hound of Heaven:

All which I took from thee, I did’st but take,
Not for thy harms,
But just that thou might’st seek it in my arms.
All which thy child’s mistake fancies as lost,
I have stored for thee at Home.
Rise, clasp my hand, and come.
Halts by me that Footfall.
Is my gloom, after all,
Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly?
Ah, Fondest, Blindest, Weakest,
I am He whom thou seekest. . . .

God’s call from the Andes Mountains

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Ubaldo Rodriguez, New Hope Fellowship Baltimore, ubalrod@hotmail.com

I am glad that the Lord called me when I was a teenager. I believe nowadays that listening to God’s call is hard because we must listen through the worries of life and the distraction of the world’s noise to hear and respond to his call.

During the preparation for “my first communion” in the Catholic Church, I started to feel the Lord’s call toward service. I was 12 and lived with my parents by the Andes Mountains thirty miles north of Bogota, Colombia. I remember that I had some questions about Jesus and the Catholic Church. I asked questions like, “Why did baby Jesus not grow up?” “Why did we have to pay for baptisms, confirmations and funerals?” and “Why was preaching not relevant for real life?” I knew, somehow, that something was not right, but I did not know what.

When I was 19, my parents sent me to Bogota to study. After a semester of living in a big city, my father and I got involved in a witchcraft situation without knowing it. We went to different places for help, but we could not find any release. We could not become free from that evil power. My uncle, who was Christian, told us that the only way to overcome that evil power was through Jesus Christ. Therefore, we decided to accept Jesus as our Lord and Savior, and we started to attend a Mennonite church in Bogota. After several months of attending, we were free from that evil influence. After a year, I was baptized by water. I remember that after my baptism, I began to pray for the baptism of the Holy Spirit. I prayed for a long time, believing Luke 11:13b: “. . . how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (NRSV) After three years of prayer, I was baptized in the Spirit in a worship service.

Years later, I studied in Bogota in a two-year evangelical Bible institute. After that, the Lord granted me a one-year opportunity through the Mennonite Central Committee International Exchange Program in the US. Reflecting back on that time, I realized that the Lord was opening doors for me in different places. It was during that time, as I walked through those doors in obedience to God, that my ministry began to take shape. It was also during that time in 1993 that I decided to open my life completely to God and to serve the Lord only. I quit my job and said, “Lord, here is my life, use me as you wish.” God started to open doors outside Colombia for my Biblical and theological formation. I went to Hesston College’s Pastoral Ministry Program. Years later, I went to Costa Rica to study the scriptures from the Latin American perspective. I thought Colombia was going to be the place for a long-term ministry, working with the poor and the victims of the country’s internal conflict, however the Lord had other plans for me. In 2006, God, in his mercy, allowed me to come to Eastern Mennonite Seminary for further education. Maybe God took me out of my country in order to serve somewhere else and not become one of the hundreds of pastors killed recently in Colombia.

God’s call in my life has been a process: accepting Jesus as my Lord and Savior, witnessing God’s power against the powers of darkness, experiencing baptism in the Holy Spirit, responding in obedience, receiving an excellent Christian education and committing to serve in the Mennonite Church.

New Hope Fellowship Baltimore is a new church plant connected with Wilkins Avenue Mennonite Church and New Hope Fellowship in Alexandria, VA. If you are interested in supporting this initiative to reach Spanish speakers in the city, contact Steve Kriss, skriss@mosaicmennonites.org.

A month of ordinations marks God’s calling pastoral leaders

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by Noah Kolb, Plains

Three ordinations in 30 days—this is probably the most ordinations Franconia Conference has ever had in one month! These ordinations bear witness to God’s Spirit at work in calling persons at various stages in life and the impact of leaders and congregations on preparing persons to receive that call. These ordinations represent a significant journey of persons being “equipped to empower others to embrace God’s mission.” They undergird our call to be intercultural, formational and missional. God continues to call women and persons of other cultures to leadership among us. Ordination is the church’s way of recognizing these whom God is calling to lead and who are prepared to make long-term commitments in response. It is an incredible joy for me to act on behalf of the Franconia Conference in affirming and confirming the work of God’s Spirit in “setting apart” credible leaders for the mission to which God has called us.

Marta Castillo
(ordained May 7 as associate pastor at Nueva Vida Norristown New Life)

Marta Castillo first responded to God as a child of missionary parents in Indonesia. She renewed that commitment when she moved to Norristown and joined Nueva Vida Norristown New Life. Having served faithfully in most every leadership position in the congregation she was called to a pastoral responsibility. Her spiritual leadership and responsiveness to the Holy Spirit was affirmed at her ordination, which was conducted in two languages. There was great rejoicing and celebration as the multicultural congregation gathered to worship and celebrate. As a woman married to a Latino, she and her family enrich the congregation and provide wonderful leadership. The ordination was a confirmation and blessing for Marta and the congregation.

Jenifer Eriksen Morales
(ordained May 15 as a conference LEADership Minister)

Jenifer Eriksen Morales was nurtured in the womb of the church at Alpha Mennonite. Her childhood pastor, Henry Swartley, was a great model and nurtured her to love the church while also challenging it. After a brief time in social work Jenifer responded to affirmation and a call to church leadership. Her ability to adapt to changing and difficult experiences has prepared her to do “Transitional Ministry” in Conference and churches. Her ordination service brought together many different people with whom she has journeyed. Most noticeable was the large number of children and young adults as well as neighbors. Together they blessed her and set her apart for the ministry to which she has committed herself. She and her husband are members of Souderton Mennonite, the congregation that called for her ordination.


(ordained June 6 for ministry to people from India)

came to this country from India in 1994 for theological training. After several years in this country, Paulus and his family discovered Plains Mennonite. He was attracted to Anabaptism and “servant leadership.” Paulus has a deep passion for his people and in 2005 began a fellowship for Indian families in the local area. Plains blessed this ministry and called for his credentialing. Four years later Paulus was ordained on a Sunday morning. He was blessed by the presence and participation of the congregation and many Indian families. Testimonies were shared and leaders gathered around him in prayer and blessing. A wonderful intercultural potluck followed the service.

Keeping my heart wide open

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Klaudia Smucker, Bally
pastorklaudia@ballymc.org

“I am not planning on preaching,” I told one of my seminary professors. “I’m more interested in pastoral care and counseling.”

“Ask your minister anyway, and see if he can fit you into the preaching schedule,” he said.

James Waltner, my minister at College Mennonite at the time, said “Of course we can fit you into the preaching schedule.” I remember sitting up front before giving my first sermon, and having the feeling of wanting to run off the platform.

I began my student internship, not planning on being a pastor. But as the year went on, my seminary practicum, “Minister in the Church,” held many surprises. I preached, I led worship, I did pastoral care and counseling, and I loved every minute of it. I remember thinking, “This is the job I always wanted to do. I just didn’t know it.” My spiritual director noticed how enthusiastic and focused I was when I talked about my church work. She encouraged me to continue to seek God, and wait for answers. I prayed that if ministry was the right direction, it would be affirmed by others.

As I finished my practicum, I was sad to be ending something I enjoyed so much, and happy that I discovered something I loved. I decided to continue to work part time at my nursing job, and work my way through seminary, hoping that answers would eventually come. In my last week at the church, Nancy Kauffmann, on the CMC team, took me out to lunch and asked me if I had ever considered pastoral ministry. I said, “Yes. This practicum has opened whole new possibilities for me. I’m just not sure about the timing of it all.” She said, “I can’t promise you anything until we talk to the church board, but James and I believe you have gifts for ministry. We’d like to recommend hiring you to help us fill in some gaps.”

That was the beginning of my ministry journey, although as I look back, I can see that God’s hand was on me, leading, guiding, and bringing others my way to encourage me in that direction. When I preached a sermon as a 16-year-old on youth Sunday in the early 70’s, a woman came up to me afterwards with tears in her eyes, and said, “If you were a man, you could be a preacher some day.” I remember hearing a woman speak with passion and inspiration and thought, “I want to do that for others.” After I gave a presentation in a committee meeting once, a woman said, “God has something in mind for you.”

Not all of the 12 years that I have been in ministry have been easy. Sometimes it has been hard, sad and all-consuming. I have laughed, cried, and lamented along with people as I’ve walked with them through marriage, births of children, difficult issues, personal illness and loss. All of those things inform my preaching, and remind me that life is uncertain. My faith has been strengthened as I’ve watched people trust and follow faithfully in the midst of extreme difficulty. I have felt God’s hand on me along the way, sometimes through wise and trusted mentors, sometimes after time in prayer, and sometimes in the voice of a stranger at the right place, at the right time. As I continue to walk forward in what God has called me to, my prayer is to keep my heart wide open as I continue to listen for whatever is next on the journey.

Called into blessing: Liberty Ministries executive remembers his own journey

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Bob Thompson with Gay Brunt Miller
info@libertyministries.us

In the fall of 1998, Ann Angelichio, a 16-year Liberty Ministries prison volunteer, called the church where I served as an elder. She was seeking volunteers to preach in a new Thursday night chapel service at Montgomery County Correctional Facility (MCCF). Our pastor asked the elders if any of us would be interested in doing this ministry. When I heard the request, I remember thinking, “No way would I want to go into prison to preach.” I only wanted to teach in our “safe” Sunday school.

But I could not get the idea out of my mind. Every time I thought about it, I would dismiss the idea.

A week later, I decided to call Ann to “at least find out more” about prison ministry. Ann’s enthusiasm about prison ministry was contagious. By the end of our conversation I told her I would go to the volunteer orientation class to “at least find out more about it.”

The orientation session was educational and answered more questions than I could have ever imagined. The expectations were high, the commitment level was serious. The fear factor was daunting.

Part of the class was to complete a background check form. A few weeks later I received a call from Ann. “Bob, you were approved to go into Montgomery County Correctional Facility as a volunteer—what Thursday night could you start?” I remember a very long pause after her question. She suggested that I go in with another volunteer first. The next day I got a call from an experienced volunteer telling me when to meet him at the prison.

My heart raced as we were escorted through the long hallways and seven iron doors to reach the chapel deep inside the prison. None of the inmates were there yet. I was relieved. As groups of inmates were released from their cells, the room was soon full. The choir assembled at the front of the chapel and started the service with singing and rejoicing. I was amazed that the a cappella choir sounded so good. Even though I recognized none of the tunes, some of the lyrics were familiar. My heart calmed by the time Larry finished preaching. A guard announced it was time to wrap up. Larry gave a benediction, and we were escorted back to the prison lobby.

Outside the prison Larry asked what I thought about the service and prison ministry. I could only say that it was “great” and “I wanted to do it.” There was no more “at least” thinking. The next week I started preaching at 8 p.m. on the third Thursday of the month and have been involved in increasing ways ever since.

After several years I had the opportunity to teach a Bible study to the residents of Liberty House. Teaching men who were transitioning from a life of incarceration to one of freedom in Christ and freedom in the world convinced me of the importance of a ministry like Liberty. Men who have been in prison need a safe place to live and time to make changes in the way they want to live after becoming followers of Jesus Christ. Liberty Ministries provides that environment.

This realization led me to join the board of directors and eventually become board chair. My 37 years of professional experience in the business world has been indispensable in leading the ministry in new directions.

In the fall of 2010 I became the Executive Director. It is an honor, privilege and challenge to be in this a position. Many changes are taking place in the ministry that will help us be more responsive to the needs and expectations of our community. By implementing the best practices available in all areas of our ministry, we are seeking to be the finest faith based residential program for ex-offenders in Pennsylvania.

I am convinced that serving God wherever He calls us, and whatever He calls us to do, is one of the greatest blessings a Christ-follower can experience.

Encountering fierce Love, taking the risk to lead

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by Samantha Lioi, Whitehall
samanthalioi@gmail.com

Call is a slippery word in divine-human relations, and there are always at least two in this tango: God can be slippery as we look and listen and follow, and people are pretty slippery when called by God. It happened with all the greats. “But…I am only a boy,” says Jeremiah. Peter falls at Jesus’ knees in the boat crying, “Go away from me, Lord!” Even after much reassurance, Moses says, “Lord, please send someone else.” I get it. To be called is to be responsible. Seriously, visibly responsible. In the good company of prophets and apostles, when I look at my ability to live with integrity, I don’t know if I want all that responsibility.

It’s interesting to me that the biblical folk who come to mind first—and those whose call stories I’ve mentioned so far—are men. They are men whose stories are comforting and familiar as they resonate with my own experience. Maybe I should pay more attention to the women God called. At the garden tomb, Mary Magdalene doesn’t say, “Jesus, I don’t think I can…I’m still processing that thing with the seven demons.” There’s no hedging. In love and joy she runs from the empty tomb and comes shouting to Peter and John: “I have seen the Lord!”

I grew up thinking people who had women as pastors couldn’t be taking the Bible seriously. I was 20 years old and a sophomore in a biblical interpretation class at Houghton College when I was required to think about both sides of this. I remember exactly where I was sitting when I learned that scholars with a bias against women in church leadership consistently defended the translation of Junia (a woman’s name) as Junias (a man’s name) in Paul’s list of greetings in Romans 16, because he calls her an apostle. In this context of honesty about the stickiness and complexity of biblical interpretation, I began to welcome the idea that I, or any woman, could be a pastor. Not that I wanted to be. I felt a general call to ministry throughout college and in the years that followed. But a pastor? Me? No—not interested (read this as I was scared to death). Six years after that class, and after much prayer and conversation with mentors and our small campus-based Mennonite fellowship, I began seminary. I enrolled as an M.Div. student so that, I told myself, I would have the authority to preach—but still without any intention of pursuing pastoral ministry. I loved theology and I wanted to study the Bible in more depth. People I trusted had been telling me to go. It felt like the unavoidable next thing, plunked down in the middle of my path.

A key to my ongoing conversion to the Gospel has been receiving and trusting the powerful, unending flow of God’s love. This deepened during my time in Elkhart and Goshen as a student at Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary. My new friends and professors showed me grace as I had not known it before. They modeled and encouraged me to accept the underlying good God has woven into the universe, the undergirding Love that will not let us go. I have encountered a fierce Love indeed, and One who can be trusted. It is only in that love that I take the risk of leading others in walking the way of Jesus. And, I practice not taking myself too seriously as I live with the delight and the struggle of feeling things deeply, finding myself frequently moving through deep springing joy and grieving compassion and doubt. Like many of us, I face the temptation to despair, the temptation to do nothing, the temptation to be defeated by the impossibility of complete integrity. So I am as messed up as everyone else—thanks be to God for the freedom to minister in my weakness, and not from pretended worthiness!

Like every other disciple of Christ, I’m called to maturity. Like everyone else, I’m called to die. No wonder I resist the gift and weight of leadership! Yet, at the center of our faith is a poor man from an ethnic minority whom we say is God with skin on. Holiness inseparable from ordinary human living. Flesh and muscle and bone. Bread and wine. A seed that falls into the earth and dies, and is drawn up by water and sun through the soil, and bears much fruit. A long, slow view of pain and hope and saving. And in God’s maddening slowness there is expansive room for healing. There is so much space to become the people we are.

Amazingly, knowing Christ’s church as well as I do, I love it enough to stay. And amazingly, it seems the church is saying the Spirit is empowering me to keep practicing this pastor-prophet-poet-preacher-pray-er thing: in listening, speaking, tugging, laughing, living beside. Resisting God and saying yes, and learning to trust like the Magdalene when I don’t know what that yes will mean. In all of it, called by inescapable Love.