formational

Mennoniting my way (To Mennonite Blog #4)

June 28, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

by Noah Kolb, Plains

I was born into a Mennonite family with lineages that go back many generations as Mennonites in Europe. I was raised in a Mennonite family and went to a Mennonite church all my life. I was taught in Mennonite schools by Mennonite teachers. I have been an ordained leader in the Mennonite Church for more than forty years. I am glad to be a Mennonite most of the time.

But I am more than Mennonite. ‘Mennoniting my way’ has been about discovering Jesus and the call to follow him each day with other followers of Jesus. Much of what shaped me also brought me to Jesus.

I have not held onto everything I received from my Mennonite heritage and culture, however. And some things I deeply appreciate are not of significant importance for following after Jesus. I recognize that every expression of faith takes on some cultural expression. Mennoniting is partly about discerning what is of Jesus and what is of culture.

In the last few years I have reflected on my identity at many levels. I love my family of origin—it reflects a rich variety of colors and faith expressions. I am very comfortable and at home as a Mennonite, but sometimes its fragrance is so varied that I wonder if it comes from the same tree. Being Christians is even less cohesive and clear for me. The leaves and fruits of its trees are so confusing that at times I feel sad and ashamed to be associated with it.

Much of my journey has been shaped by right beliefs and prescribed practices. These have helped to bring me to Christ. In recent years following Jesus is not so much about having the right beliefs as about observing the way of Jesus, listening to his Spirit, and living in obedience. Living in a heritage so broken and splintered by differences of both belief and practice, I am compelled to seek unity and peace in the bond that is in Christ, who is our peace.

My deep longing is to be at peace and at home with God. This has been found in following Jesus who calls me to unity and peace in his body, the church, to love even my enemies and to care for the good earth where God has placed me.

‘Mennoniting my way’ has helped me find the way to Jesus, to unity in the Spirit, and peace in the fellowship of all who follow Jesus. It is bringing others with me to Jesus who enables us to be at peace with God, to live in peace with each other, and to peacefully love the earth on which we live together.

Next week, Ubaldo Rodriguez, pastor of New Hope Fellowship/Nueva Esperanza (Baltimore, Md.), will reflect on Mennoniting on the river and the pond. How do you “Mennonite”? Join the conversation on Facebook or by email.

Who am I? (To Mennonite Blog #1)
Serving Christ with our heads and hands (To Mennonite Blog #2)
Quiet rebellion against the status quo (To Mennonite Blog #3)
Mennoniting my way (To Mennonite Blog #4)
Generations Mennoniting together (To Mennonite Blog #5)
Body, mind, heart … and feet (To Mennonite Blog #6)
We have much more to offer (To Mennonite Blog #7)
Mennonite community … and community that Mennonites (To Mennonite Blog #8)

The Garden brings renewal and hope to Doylestown

June 21, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

by Emily Ralph, eralphservant@mosaicmennonites.org

The congregation in Doylestown was about at the end of their rope, struggling to find ways to engage their community after years of declining attendance.

Pastor Randy Heacock knew the future didn’t look good: if the congregation continued to do things as they always had, within ten years they could easily die out.

Or, they could try something new and see what happened.

The leadership team began a process of discernment, asking “What does it mean for us, Doylestown Mennonite Church, to lose our life to find the greater life God desires for us?” said Heacock. After six months, they invited the congregation into further prayer and discernment. Heacock began conversations with the congregation’s LEADership Minister, Steve Kriss, and other young and emerging leaders in Franconia Conference.

Slowly they began to develop a plan. Less than a plan, actually, according to Scott Hackman and KrisAnne Swartley, who, along with founding team member Derek Cooper, were hired in April of 2011 to give leadership to this new congregational direction. “KrisAnne and I are organizing on the fly,” said Hackman, “we’re cultivating as we go!”

The new missional team was given flexibility and the support of the congregation as they plunged into the world of their Doylestown community, a wealthy suburb of Philadelphia that rarely allows its deeper needs to show above its suburban chic surface. They took prayer walks, hung out at coffee shops, developed relationships with the church’s neighbors.

Around the same time, a member of the community approached the leadership at Doylestown to ask if they were open to allowing unused land behind their facility to be cultivated as a community garden. Out of that partnership, the Sandy Ridge Community Garden was born.

As the missional team watched the congregation enthusiastically join the gardening project, they began to wonder what it would be like to create a Christian community with a variety of entry points, where people could belong even if they didn’t connect with or commit to Sunday morning attendance.

They were particularly inspired by the life cycle of the garden—every season has life and death, and that’s ok, they realized. Acknowledging those cycles allowed the congregation to join in where they wanted to, to back off when they needed to, to connect and release. They decided to call their new ministry “The Garden.”

By September, The Garden was ready for its first official experiment: a peace walk through Doylestown to commemorate the 10^th anniversary of 9/11 and proclaim a counter-cultural witness.

Only one community family joined them.

Since this family had been 30-year residents of Doylestown, Swartley asked them to lead the prayer walk. The family guided the missional team around town, eventually leading them to the cemetery where their daughter was buried. In tears, they told the story of their daughter’s murder and shared how much it meant to them that someone was working in the community to build hope.

It was a turning point for The Garden. Although numbers were small, the missional team caught a glimpse of the importance of The Garden’s presence and ministry in Doylestown. “We need to reimagine what failure is in post-Christendom witness,” Hackman explained.

The “failures” have also opened up doors of connection with members of the congregation as the missional team shared their stories on Sunday mornings or through their blog. Members could participate in Garden Groups—home gatherings over food and conversation—or partner with the community garden and other Garden initiatives without pressure or expectations.

Some of the expectations they have surrendered have been formed by years of stories about what “mission” really is, like “we need more young people or a better worship band or a more charismatic pastor,” said Hackman. They came to realize these stories aren’t true. “What we need is to be more of what we are in spaces where people are already,” he added.

Sandy Ridge Garden — Bill Leatherman, Steve Landis and Vernon Althouse of Doylestown Mennonite Church, help one of the master gardeners of Sandy Ridge Community Garden install a brand new fence and gate.

As a result of this developing culture, the Doylestown congregation is experiencing new life and vitality. For years, there was a sense of low self-esteem at the church, a sense of failure, said Swartley. “Now there’s a renewing of their identity as loved people of God. And that makes room for other people!” It’s been inspiring to watch, she added. “They’re awaking once again to what they are and how beautiful they are and their potential.”

Doylestown has not seen a dramatic growth in their Sunday morning attendance, but they have seen an increase in the number of people who call the church their own. From community gardeners at Sandy Ridge to men and women who attend AA meetings in the church’s fellowship hall, members of the Doylestown community will say, “That’s my church!” even if they have never entered the sanctuary on a Sunday morning.

“The agenda is creating space for people to belong to each other and God,” said Hackman. It’s not a church growth plan. “And how does that result in more people coming to your church? I have no idea. But we have more people coming to Doylestown.”

The Doylestown congregation committed to a minimum of three years for this new initiative; Hackman and Swartley have high hopes for the next two years and beyond. “[My dream is] that more than half of the present congregation would try at least one experiment in the next year in their neighborhood. Any experiment,” said Swartley. “That would be super fun and then we’d get together and tell those stories—what we’ve learned, who we’ve met, how we’ve seen God at work.”

And Hackman hopes for growth, but not in the traditional sense. “Whether that growth is Sunday morning, through groups, events, I don’t care,” he said. “Our identity as Christians keeps growing and that creates more room for people looking for God.”

It’s been three years since Heacock realized that something needed to change. And something has. “While I certainly don’t know where all this is heading, I do know God is present, people are open, and lives are being transformed,” he reflected. “That is good enough for me.”

Ministerial Update (June 2012)

June 20, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

An update from Noah Kolb, Pastor of Ministerial Leadership, on behalf of the Ministerial Committee

Rose Bender Ordination — Rose Bender was ordained at Whitehall on May 27. Photo Gallery

Derek Cooper, assistant professor of Biblical studies and historical theology at Biblical Seminary in Hatfield (Pa.) was approved for a two-year license toward ordination. He and his family are members at Deep Run East (Perkasie, Pa.). The seminary, through his congregation, requested a ministerial license for his work in preparing pastors.
Joy Sawatzky was approved for a two-year license toward ordination for her ministry as chaplain with Living Branches. She presently has a license for specific ministry. She is a member of the Plains (Hatfield, Pa) congregation.
Don McDonough resigned from his associate pastoral role at Spring Mount (Pa.) to give leadership to a missional experiment called Arise in the Harleysville, Pa. area. He is accountable to Chris Nickels and the Spring Mount congregation.
Randy Good resigned as pastor at Taftsville (Vt.). He will complete his ministry there at the end of August.
Blaine & Connie Detwiler completed their pastoral leadership at Lakeview, (Susquehanna, Pa.) at the end of May. They have accepted pastoral leadership at the Marion Congregation in Franklin Conference.
Scott Landes has resigned as pastor at Frederick (Pa.) and completed his ministry there on June 15.
Rose Bender was ordained on May 27 at Whitehall (Pa.). Steve Kriss and Noah Kolb officiated. A large crowd of church community and relatives were present.
Ubaldo Rodriguez was appointed to fill an opening on the ministerial committee. Ubaldo is the church planter at New Hope Fellowship/Nueva Esperanza (Baltimore, Md.), a church plant of New Hope Fellowship Iglesia Nueva
Dennis Edwards, pastor of Peace Fellowship (Washington DC) has resigned as pastor. He has accepted a pastoral position in Minneapolis, MN. Dennis has been credentialed with Franconia serving a Partner in Mission congregation.

Quiet rebellion against the status quo

June 19, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

(To Mennonite Blog #3)

by Donna Merow, Ambler

In a sermon titled Transformed Nonconformist, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. wrote, “The saving of our world from pending doom will come, not through the complacent adjustment of the conforming majority, but through the creative maladjustment of a nonconforming minority” (Strength to Love, 27).

To “Mennonite” is to be creatively maladjusted to a society that promotes materialism, nationalism, militarism, and violence.

I was introduced to the Mennonite/Anabaptist perspective at Providence and Methacton more than thirty years ago. This was the era of Ron Sider’s Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger and Doris Jantzen Longacre’s Living More with Less. The lifestyle of simplicity and service such books advocated captured my imagination in a big way. My sister describes me to her friends as “almost Amish,” and, in some ways, I suppose I am. We decided to raise our children without Santa Claus or television. A clothesline replaced the dryer and kept us connected in some small way with the rhythms of the natural world. We built a little house in the woods and lived on one income so I could be a full-time stay-at-home mom until my daughters were in high school.

Such non-conformity to the standards of culture is only possible if one takes Jesus seriously, not only on Sunday morning but in every encounter and experience throughout the week. This was something I saw modeled in the first “salt of the earth” Mennonites I met. Doing so means thoughtfully considering what following Jesus looks like in decisions big and small—the purchases one makes, the words one speaks, the actions one takes, how one spends his/her time. Should I spend a little more for organic produce? Do I really need that new dress? Can I skip that trip and take a walk instead? How do I speak the truth in love in this delicate situation? Will doing this honor/model Christ?

To “Mennonite” also means taking community seriously. I was rebaptized and became a member of the Mennonite Church on my first wedding anniversary. One of the most memorable questions posed to me as part of this public confession was, “Are you willing to give and receive counsel in the congregation?” The mutual accountability and responsibility inherent in the question continues to remind me that we are in this relationship together. Everyone, I think, needs to have someone in his/her life who loves him/her enough to risk speaking the truth, however painful it may be. The vulnerability this demands of both giver and receiver is powerfully present each Holy Week in the simple act of kneeling before each other to wash feet. But the love symbolized in this annual ritual is evident throughout the year as we celebrate life’s milestones, care for children, prepare meals, clean houses, move possessions, offer advice, or listen with a sympathetic ear.

This spring I did a six-week class on memoir writing at the Mennonite Heritage Center. Our last assignment included considering a possible title for our would-be memoir based on the writing we had done during the class. I called mine “Closet Rebel,” and the Mennonites are largely to blame. I am grateful to those who “Mennonite” at Ambler and Methacton for giving me the space and encouragement I needed for my quiet rebellion against the status quo. They have accepted me wholeheartedly, creatively maladjusted as I am.

Next week, Noah Kolb, a forty-year minister in Mennonite congregations, will wrestle with his splintered heritage of faith and practice. How do you “Mennonite”? Join the conversation by email.

Serving Christ with our heads and hands

June 11, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

(To Mennonite Blog #2)

by Dennis Edwards, Sanctuary Covenant Church

“To Mennonite” means to translate faith in Jesus Christ into concrete actions.

I have been a believer in Jesus for over 40 years but for most of my life, Christian faith meant being able to recite the right doctrinal positions. I became keenly aware of this during my college years at a secular university and then later at a prominent Evangelical seminary. In both settings Christians often asked each other, “Do you believe_____?” and that blank would be filled by some debated issue such as “that woman can preach” or “in speaking in tongues” or “that Jesus will return before the Tribulation.”

Expressing one’s faith meant laying out the correct stance on an issue, one that was held by many of the popular Christian writers or teachers. Models of the faith were people who spoke or wrote. Those who “did” the faith were missionaries or saints who lived in some bygone era. I hardly ever heard people challenging each other in how we should live out our faith in the world. As a matter of fact, when it came to living out one’s faith, the emphasis was on personal piety which meant avoiding certain noteworthy sins (such as extra-marital or pre-marital sexual activity, drinking alcohol, smoking, and gambling).

During a Christian Ethics class in seminary, the instructor, a known anti-abortion activist, spent about five out of ten weeks discussing abortion. When I asked about racism as a possible topic for the course, he sighed, rolled his eyes, and made it clear that it wasn’t really an issue for our class.

I was hurt as well as disappointed. It seemed that Christian ethics was defined as having the right arguments on certain societal evils—but only those evils that seemed relevant to white evangelicals. By way of contrast, one of my first introductions to people who were “Mennoniting” was a presentation on dismantling racism. I was impressed that rather than just talking or writing statements—both good things—there was also activism. People were actively promoting an anti-racism strategy.

I realize that avoiding certain evils may continue to define Christianity for some people, and I dare say that for some “to Mennonite” may include that very perspective. I’m not naive to the reality that many Christians in America, including Mennonites, define holiness as simply avoiding certain sins.

By the time I decided “to Mennonite,” however, I was aware of relief and development work. I was aware of activism for justice. I was aware of the centrality of peacemaking—even loving one’s enemies. I took the opportunity “to Mennonite” as an invitation to join with others who believe that faith was to be demonstrated in acts of compassion, mercy, and justice. “To Mennonite” means to live at peace with all people. It means to love others as oneself while loving the LORD with whole hearts, minds, and strength. It means to care for the “least of these” because that is the way of the Lord Jesus Christ.

I must point out that sound doctrine is very important to me; I even have a PhD in Biblical Studies because I am passionate about what the Scriptures say and that we should “rightly divide” them. I respect that there are Mennonite institutions where people can learn and have their academic interests nurtured. But I know that Christians are not just about what is in their heads. To me, “to Mennonite” means to serve Christ with our heads and our hands, flowing out of the love that is in our hearts.

Dr. Dennis Edwards was pastor of Peace Fellowship Church in Washington D.C., a partner in mission of Franconia Conference. In May of this year, he moved to Minnesota to pastor Sanctuary Covenant Church in Minneapolis. Blessings on your new endeavor, Dennis!

Next week, Donna Merow, pastor of the Ambler congregation, will share her experience of Mennoniting through simplicity and service. How do you “Mennonite”? Join the conversation on Facebook or by email.

Who am I? (To Mennonite Blog #1)

June 7, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

by Emily Ralph

The rolling hills surrounding Harrisonburg, Virginia are beautiful this time of year. In some ways, they remind me of the mountains and farmland back home in Pennsylvania and I’m not surprised that Mennonites migrated here in the 18^th century—it must have felt like home!

It’s my first visit to the main campus of Eastern Mennonite University, and as I drove down the highway toward EMU’s Summer Peacebuilding Institute last week, the familiarity of the mountains and grazing cows only fed my anticipation. I was looking forward to studying with other leaders from around the world, cradled in the arms of a warm Mennonite community of scholars and practitioners. In other words, it would be a home away from home.

I was in for a wakeup call. As a Pennsylvania-based Mennonite pastor participating in this event on global peacebuilding, I am an oddity. Although I recognized, in theory, that I would be surrounded by diversity, I don’t think I truly prepared myself for what I have experienced. I have found myself floundering, trying to figure out how I fit in here, when the people around me don’t speak the same religious language, when their eyes don’t light up in recognition after I say I’m from Franconia Conference in Pennsylvania, when I struggle to express why I’m at a peacebuilding workshop as a leader in the American church and not as an activist on the front lines of war-torn Syria.

While I am cherishing new friendships with extraordinary people from around the world, I hadn’t anticipated the loneliness, the feelings of separation from my community in a place where I expected to experience that community more strongly. And the irony of ironies? I’m taking a class on identity. Never did I think that I would be struggling with mine, even as I wade through the intensity of this ten-day experience.

Our identities form how we see and are seen by the world. They are so foundational to our lives that often we are unaware of how they color everything we say and do. And when our understandings of who we are come into friction with others’ understandings of who they are, conflict erupts.

It’s no wonder, then, that our Mennonite identity has caused so much tension in the church. Some hold this identity as sacred, while others argue that their identity is first and foremost as a Christian, not a Mennonite. The rhetoric gets passionate and divisive.

This time, a year ago, I was in a different class, this one at EMU’s Lancaster campus. We were discussing change and conflict in the church and someone asked the question: What if we saw our roles as verbs instead of nouns?

So, for instance, instead of being a father, one would father. Or instead of being a student, one would student. As I pondered this concept, I was struck with a much deeper question: what would it mean to Mennonite?

What if we viewed our identities as followers of Jesus who Mennonite? What if we saw Mennonite not as our identity, but as our practice? What would the practices for the verb Mennonite be?

There is something reconciling about using Mennonite as a verb. It allows us to form a community around these practices, regardless of how long any one of us has been in the Mennonite denomination. It strips away any claim of ancestry and builds bridges among us, regardless of ethnicity, gender, generation, or life experiences—we can Mennonite together.

Menno Simons, who unwillingly gave his name to this verb, was passionate about the practices of Jesus-followers. He would have defined Mennonite as doing works of love, resisting temptation, seeking and serving God, clothing the naked, feeding the hungry, comforting the troubled, sheltering the miserable, aiding the oppressed, returning good for evil, serving and praying for persecutors, teaching and challenging with God’s Word, seeking what is lost, healing the sick and wounded, and rejoicing in persecution (Why I Do Not Cease Teaching and Writing).

And so, as I struggle with being one of the few Mennonites on campus, even as I am surrounded by ninety-two other leaders who are working for peace and justice in communities around the world, I ask myself, What makes me Mennonite? Is it my ethnicity? My theology? Where I live? Or is it a certain way of understanding Christ’s call to radical discipleship, an understanding that is lived out in practice?

This summer, leaders from all over Franconia Conference and beyond will wrestle with these same questions in a new blog series: What does it mean to Mennonite? What practices shape us as followers of Jesus who Mennonite together? Next week, we’ll hear from Dennis Edwards, last year’s Conference Assembly speaker and the former pastor of Peace Fellowship Church in Washington, DC.

How do you “Mennonite”? Join the conversation on Facebook or by email.

Salford youth extend hospitality in Allentown

June 5, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

by Ben Wideman, Youth Pastor, Salford

Salford-Ripple — Salford congregation collected 50 bags of groceries, which the youth distributed in partnership with Ripple Allentown.

Salford Mennonite Church is a place with many resources and talents – yet we as a church are often are at a loss at how to use these resources in the world. Every once in a while, an opportunity takes shape that touches us in a meaningful way.

During the month of February, Salford’s members collected over 50 grocery bags filled with non-perishable food items, as has been a tradition for many years. The second part of this tradition is that Salford’s youth have delivered the groceries to a community where this can be of use. Our youth leaders reached out to Steve Kriss at Franconia Conference, who suggested that it might be helpful to get in touch with the Ripple Allentown community.

Our inquiry was met with a quick response from Pastor Ben Walter, who explained that they would love the chance to connect with the Salford youth. We made plans to join them during their monthly “Community Sunday” – an intentional day set aside each month to connect with their local neighborhood.

A group of Salford’s youth and a few adults loaded up a van full of grocery bags and made the short trip north to the Ripple community. We were assigned to groups and led around by members of the Ripple family, knocking on doors and delivering groceries to anyone who needed them. We heard stories about ways that Ripple has been able to reach out to its neighborhood and were pleasantly surprised by the response we received from the people we met.

It was incredible to experience and participate in this kind of basic service and hospitality – especially in a neighborhood that was different from our own. Salford’s youth enjoyed meeting families from the neighborhood and connecting in inter-generational ways. While each participant experienced the day in their own unique way, all came away with a new-found respect for the Ripple Allentown community and the passion they have for service and hospitality. We were left wondering how we can capture this spirit of giving more fully in our own lives and how we can continue to work to bring about God’s Kingdom in our own local context. It was certainly a day we will cherish moving forward.

Sometimes the Spirit shows up

May 24, 2012 by Emily Ralph Servant

Reflections with Jews, Muslims, and Christians in the Old City Jerusalem.

by Stephen Kriss, skriss@mosaicmennonites.org

There were about a dozen of us gathered around fresh squeezed orange juice and a couple of tables just inside the Damascus Gate in the Old City. Our group had been traveling for a few days in Israel and the Occupied Territories as part of the partnership between Franconia Conference and Biblical Seminary for intercultural education. It was the third time in a few years that I’d been back, engaging with initiatives supported by Conference congregations—Deep Run East, Philly Praise, and Franconia. In some ways, the once exotic holy land was starting to feel both more familiar and more frustrating.

We were gathering after a long day to meet with two seminary students, both American Jews living awhile in Jerusalem. I had met one of the students at a coffee shoppe in Philadelphia. The second guy was his housemate, a Reformed Jew. Our group had just returned from several days of staying with Palestinian Christians in occupied Bethlehem. We’d heard their stories and seen the dividing wall. It had been overwhelming and gut-wrenching, as usual.

It was tough to turn toward a conversation with Jewish students. I had strategically set it up at a small refreshment stand, owned by a Muslim guy who had spent a lot of time in California. He agreed to stay open late this night for the conversation. The two students told their own predicaments, their own call as spiritual leaders, their struggle as Jews in Israel in the midst of injustices. They told of slipping scared into Palestine, trying to hide their own Jewishness to see the other side of the story. They admitted that they were a little afraid to come and visit with us in the Muslim Quarter of the Old City.

The conversation was both beautiful and tough. The seminary students—both Christian and Jewish—shared openly from their own perspectives. They asked questions. They shared perplexities. There was both wincing and hoping.

But maybe the most remarkable thing that happened that night was as our time was concluding, the shopkeeper chimed into our conversation.

He said, “Listening to you guys gives me hope.”

He said, “We have a long journey together to figure this out. We have much to overcome. It will take many years. But maybe because we gathered tonight it will only take 189 years rather than 200 to move toward peace.”

Our Jewish friends trembled and teared up. We witnessed something holy and lovely. It was listening, it was acting, it was hoping, it was sharing space and moving beyond fears. It was next generation leaders receiving a blessing from a Muslim man probably older than their parents in the Muslim Quarter in front of a group of American Christians.

The moment was pretty amazing. In these kinds of learning experiences, we do a lot of setting up, a lot of planning, but the Spirit shows up wildly and mostly unpredictably in the circumstance. It’s something we hope for as leaders in our preparing and our journeying, something we wait for, but something unexplainable in the careful question, vulnerability and risk; in the exchange across boundaries, between young and old, in the midst of moving toward understanding.

This is why I believe in intercultural education, in missional movement across the globe. It’s the Spirit’s showing up when we take risks. It’s listening across misgiving. Sometimes it requires movement and travel across thousands of miles and sometimes it only requires us to walk across the street, where we encounter the Divine in the face of fear, frustration, difference.

formational

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