The Fifth of the Seven Core Convictions that Mennonites Share
The Spirit of Jesus empowers us to trust God in all areas of life so we become peacemakers who renounce violence, love our enemies, seek justice, and share our possessions with those in need.
Blaine Detwiler, Lakeview
detwiler@nep.net
As weddings go, this one was by far the most frenzied I have been part of.
I had begun meeting this couple months earlier. They wanted me to marry them. For the groom it was a second time. His first wife had abandoned him and their five children in search of the loves and the excitement of night life the local bars afforded her. He struggled mightily with work, cooking supper for little ones, sports schedules, homework, laundry piles, lonely days and tiredness. He lived on weak coffee and cigarettes. He admitted there were times when the rifle in his closet would be an easy answer.
She had never married. She had never been asked. In her family girls just didn’t. Instead a woman hooked up with a man…for as long as it lasted. And when it was over she took her children and moved on. To another place, another chance, another man. For as long as it took.
When he asked her to get married she hardly saw the point of it. But he persisted none-the-less. At our sessions together she wandered back and forth with stories of previous loves and how odd it was to be thinking of a wedding. Of making vows. Of what a wedding actually was…and what you did there. She said at the end of our time that she wanted it to work…but that she was stricken with doubt. After all, men had been parading in and out of her life for a long time. Why should going to a church and making promises in front of a whole lot of people end that parading pattern? But she agreed to buy the dress and move forward.
He was more confident. I am not sure why. He had little reason to be confident of anything given what his life had offered thus far. But oddly, he was. They would live in his house with his children and hers.
The day of the wedding brought the excitement you would traditionally expect. There was the usual fanfare. The arrival of the groom with his children resplendent in their tuxes and bows. The bride hid herself downstairs with her ladies so as not to be seen by the groom and be jinxed.
Now, you expect that a wedding will bring with it a certain decorum. A solemnity tinged with beauty, grace and fine dress. But many of the guests were not used to the formality of a church service. For some it was merely a stop on the way to the local VFW where a reception was planned. For others a wedding was merely a strange curiosity to observe. Guests arrived in their sports cars and loud trucks.
The piano in the corner brought the assembled crowd to some order. Some order. Flower girls were the first to make their entrance. They were cute as they dropped their petals and then stood in the front waiting, fidgeting, fussing and then pushing. Bridesmaids came next and stood guard over the fussing. Then the bride in her new dress came walking down…her hands trembling. She stood beside her groom. The piano stopped but the “holy hush” never arrived. I began to speak, loudly, to be heard over the din, “Good afternoon, friends and neighbors!”
I learned something about peace that day. As a Mennonite I more quickly see peace as a Beatitude…as a placard reminder that peacemakers are blessed by God. And my memory can well rehearse the many historical stories of our tradition…that you can have peace but it often comes with a great cost. And that peace is something we carry with us. What I began to catch a glimpse of that day I spotted in the eyes of the both the bride and groom as they stood there in front of me…in the middle of irreverent racket.
As I asked her to repeat after me, “To have and to hold from this day forward,’” her voice began to crack. “For better, for worse, for richer for poorer…for the rest of our lives,” words which for me are merely a job became for her a rush of tears…of wishes and hope. The road of his life was littered with pain. But he was not looking back, not this day.
At the altar of “I do’” you could see in his dark eyes a pursuit. That for him, for them, peace was worth looking for.
As 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 
After 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