Mosaic Mennonites

Missional - Intercultural - Formational

staff blog

“Don’t be helpful. Be curious.”

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by Gary Alloway

“Don’t be helpful. Be curious.” When I first read those words in a book by Tim Soerens, they immediately annoyed me. After all, what could be wrong with being helpful? 

Two years ago, Tony moved to my block and Tony was a mess. He and his wife would get in blowout screaming matches on the sidewalk. He would sit in his car at 2 am, blasting his music. He was prone to outbursts at his kids, who are the same age as our kids. My attempts to fix, intervene, and correct all went poorly. Until one day, I decided to take a cold beverage over to Tony’s house and kick it.   

I found out that Tony had grown up in a very under-resourced neighborhood in Philadelphia and gotten pulled into violence as a teenager. Bristol was his way out. I found out he sat in his car at 2 am as an escape, and was blissfully unaware of how loud his music was. I found out he wanted nothing more than a quiet life–to work, to raise his kids well, and to have his home be a place of peace. 

And after that conversation, things changed. Whatever help we offered was no longer in order to fix Tony or to be his social worker. Now we were neighbors, friends, and parents just trying to raise our kids well. We were in it together. And Tony started showing his generous side. He cut our grass. He dropped off food. He gave me a pair of shoes. And I helped him plant flowers on his front porch for the first time in his life. We walk Tony’s kids to school every morning. We sneak them as much healthy food as we can. 

It’s not so much that being helpful is wrong. But when it’s our first instinct, it usually leads to standing over the other person, rather than standing next to them. They become our client or our project, rather than our brother or sister. Not only does this belittle the other person, but we also miss out on unlikely friendships that have a way of changing us deeply.  

I can’t fix Tony. But being his friend is pretty fun. Curiosity opens the way to friendship. And curiosity opens space for the true healer of his soul to work. Not me, but Jesus.   

So that’s my commission to you. Let that little phrase annoy you. “Don’t be helpful.  Be curious.” 

Let it change your posture. Let it create space for God to work. You just might end up friends with Tony. 

Gary Alloway

Gary Alloway is a Leadership Minister for Mosaic Conference. Gary is also a pastor and church planter of Redemption Church of Bristol (PA), which is a Mosaic Partner in Ministry and was founded in 2009. Gary serves with his wife, Susan, and his children, Augie (9) and Rosey (7), who deeply love pretzel dogs from the Bristol Amish Market. Gary has a passion for Philadelphia sports, crossword puzzles, and for seeing broken people connect to the amazing love of God. 

Mosaic values two-way communication and encourages our constituents to respond with feedback, questions, or encouragement. To contact Gary Alloway, please email galloway@mosaicmennonites.org.

Searching for Sabbath

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by Margaret Zook

“Be careful to keep my Sabbath day, for the Sabbath is a sign of the covenant between me and you from generation to generation.”

– Exodus 31:13a, NLT 

As a child, I understood sabbath to mean that Sunday was for worship and to rest, in community. After going to church, visiting over dinner and reading were both permitted, but organized sports and shopping were not. Worship was rich with singing, bible stories, and friends. Rest was defined as “not working.”  

Yet, women did the cooking and clean up for whomever would be invited for Sunday dinner. It was a time when daughters were in a transition point, with growing freedom to imagine there could be more. Sabbath was a time to learn about God, not a tradition bound to.   

“On the seventh day God… rested from all his work.”

– Genesis 2:2, NLT 

It was during the middle years of my life that I had the freedom to imagine what Sabbath could be, beyond Sunday attendance in worship and Sunday meal making. During the period of my life that involved education, marriage, children, and career, Sabbath meant a search to discover a personal “vertical” relationship with God. Sabbath was time found–a moment of quiet, a walk, a church in which to belong, a sermon, a talk, a prayer time. Sabbath was to live as someone who belongs to the Lord.  

“Then Jesus said to them, ‘The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath’.”

– Mark 2:27-28, NRSV 

As the years have passed, Sabbath freedom now becomes a recognition of how my time on earth is finite; I’m facing my mortality. I now find Sabbath as delight, grace for reflection, and flexibility for unexpected opportunities. I see Sabbath as an invitation to observances and disciplines that bring God closer, and to discover things that nourish a soul and give respite from the demands of the everyday. Sabbath is to hold and to learn for what God has for today.   

“Remember the sabbath day and keep it holy.”

– Exodus 20:8, NRSV 

For all stages of life’s journey, I leave you with a few Sabbath ideas. Plan to set apart time for Sabbath, turn off technology, be present in community worship, engage in restful activities, spend time with loved ones, meditate on all of God’s creation, and make time for thoughtful prayer.  

Margaret Zook

Margaret Zook is the Director of Collaborative Ministries for Mosaic Conference. She and husband, Wib, are members of Salford Mennonite Church and live in Harleysville, PA.

The Heart of Worship

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by Josh Meyer

I was recently asked to define worship in exactly six words. After a bit of thought, I offered the following answer, “Seeing God accurately and responding appropriately.” Anytime we get an accurate glimpse of who God is and are moved to respond, that’s worship. My friend, music director, and worship theologian Helen Eastburn puts it this way, “Worship is drawing near to God as God draws near to us.”

Another definition, offered by my former seminary professor, suggests that “the inner essence of worship is to know God truly and then respond by valuing God, treasuring God, prizing God, enjoying God, being satisfied with God above all earthly things. And then that deep, restful, joyful satisfaction in God overflows in demonstrable acts of praise from the lips and demonstrable acts of love in serving others for the sake of Christ.”   

I love how this definition emphasizes that: 

  • Worship begins with God  
  • Worship leads to deep, restful, joyful satisfaction in God  
  • Worship leads to praise from our lips  
  • Worship leads to acts of love in serving others  

Particularly in a consumeristic culture that trains us to evaluate experiences based on their enjoyment or benefit to us, I’ve found it helpful to be reminded that worship is not primarily about us. 

  • Exalting God is not about what we get out of it; it’s about choosing to praise and trust God regardless of our circumstances because we have faith that God is good. 
  • Worship is about giving God glory, not seeking to receive something for ourselves. We’ve already received – which is why we worship. Worship is a response. We’ve received the good news of Jesus Christ, the suffering, sacrificial love of a Father who sends the Son, and who sends the Spirit, so that we might be saved…in this life and in the age to come.
  • Worship is always, ultimately about God. 

A few years ago, I read a short post by pastor reflecting on the nature of worship.   

For the last three years I have had the immense privilege of serving in Honolulu. Yes, that Honolulu, in Hawaii. The one where the sun shines most every day, the temperature is always perfect, and the ocean is just a short walk away. What’s ironic about this is that I was born and raised in Anchorage. Yes, that Anchorage, in Alaska. While 7-year-olds here in Honolulu were learning the importance of sun safety and SPF, I was learning (the hard way) why not to lick the school flagpole in the middle of winter. Sometimes I feel like my life is one big contrast.  

Perhaps that is why I love the picture of worship in Leviticus 9:23-24. “When the people saw it (the Glory of God), they shouted for joy and fell facedown.” The people of Israel saw the glory of God and their appropriate response was to shout with joy AND fall facedown to the ground. It seems like the ultimate dichotomy, exuberance and contriteness, celebration and reverence.  

What an amazing visualization of this response to who God is, the worshipper bowing face to the ground but alight with a radiant smile! This paradox is our appropriate response to God. It’s not one or the other. It’s not even a balance between the two. It is both sides in all their fullness, together becoming our answer to the question of how we will respond to a glimpse of who God is.  

May we do that together as a people of faith across Mosaic Conference.  

May we see God accurately and respond appropriately.  

May we draw near to God as God draws near to us. 

May we bow in reverence and celebrate with joy.  

Josh Meyer

Josh Meyer is a Leadership Minister for Mosaic Conference.

New York City, a Laundromat, and Jesus

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In May of 2021, my wife, Sandra, and I visited New York City to celebrate our 51st wedding anniversary. We were returning to the city that received us in the 1970s. We lived in New York City for eleven years and two of our children were born there.

New York City is “a planetary city,” as described by Colombian author Diana Uribe, because it has residents, communities, restaurants, and languages ​​from almost every corner of the world. When we first arrived in New York in the 1970s, we resided in Astoria, Queens, an area of mostly Greek and Italian communities. It was common to see ads in Greek and Italian and to hear these two languages ​​mixed with English. It was rare to find people who spoke Spanish.

Marco Güete and his wife, Sandra, celebrated their 51st anniversary in New York City. Photo by Marco Güete.

Our plan, as part of our anniversary celebration, was to visit some of the places where we lived. We wanted to walk the streets again, travel by train/subway, remember the stations, and identify where the shops, restaurants, and laundromats were. We wanted to go back to the past and live it again for a moment.

Everything had changed, or our minds played tricks on us trying to remember. We went down the stairs of a train station in Astoria, a station that we used several hundred times. We walked a block and to our left we discovered the place where the supermarket was located and where we bought groceries. We arrived at the corner and there in front of us, imposing and dazzling, was the apartment building that we welcomed our children, Zandra and Javier, as newborns, a year apart. What a surprise! To the right of the apartment building was our laundromat.

The laundromat near Marco and Sandra’s former home in Queens. 
Photo by Marco Güete.

Many years ago, on one bright, sunny, spring afternoon, my wife arrived at the laundromat. She was pregnant with our second baby. She rolled her laundry cart and our one-month-old daughter in her baby carriage. Until today, I never asked myself the question, how did she manage both?

In the laundromat Sandra met a neighbor and her baby. They two began a conversation, and our neighbor told Sandra that she would like to introduce us to the pastor of the church where she attends. A few days later, our neighbor arrived at our apartment with the pastor, introduced him, and left immediately to take care of her baby, whom had left her alone for a few moments.

That day, with great wisdom, love, and knowledge of the scriptures, the pastor told us about Jesus and invited us to receive him in our hearts and become followers of him. That day my wife and I began the pilgrimage of discovering and knowing how to become followers of Jesus. This has been a wonderful learning process for over 46 years, where our trust and faith in God grows daily.

It Tasted Good

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Last night, I made tuna casserole for dinner.

It’s a dish I associate with my midwestern, working-class upbringing: noodles mixed with canned tuna and cream of mushroom soup, topped with cheddar cheese, and peas on the side but better mixed in.  It was a staple when I was growing up, alongside its simpler cousin—boxed mac and cheese with a can of tuna thrown in for protein and flavor.

We didn’t have many foods that we would consider to be ours, just those we thought were everyone’s: lasagna, tacos, pizza, meat and potatoes.  Those were the days before we were exposed to authentic food from other cultures, when the extent of “ethnic food” in our household was stir-fry in a teriyaki sauce with fried rice.

Last night, I made tuna casserole for dinner and I grieved what whiteness has stolen from me.

When my ancestors immigrated to the United States in the 1700s and 1800s and 1900s, they were “encouraged” to assimilate to “American” culture: to speak English, to change their dress, to adapt their traditions and foods.  By the time I was born in the 1980s, we no longer spoke any German, Swedish, or Gaelic.  We didn’t have any recipes passed down from generation to generation, no holiday traditions, no sweet names for our grandparents or aunts, no homestead to return to.  We were rootless.

Last night, I made tuna casserole for dinner and I found God in my grief.

I can’t be transformed by the cultures that surround me until I expose the harm that whiteness has caused them and me.  I must grieve and peel back the layers of whitewashing that have hidden my identity and blinded me to the culture that my family has built, the culture that makes me who I am.  I must heal.

Last night, I made tuna casserole for dinner … from scratch: with gluten free noodles and homemade cream of mushroom soup, freshly grated cheese, and my own onion and breadcrumb topping.

I remembered the times that money was tight for my parents, for my grandparents, for my great-grandparents. I thought about how they worked the land to produce food and preserved its bounty for their family and friends.

Last night, I made tuna casserole for dinner.  I served it with home-canned green beans and carrots and peaches, lovingly carried up from my basement shelves.

I thought about the stories I would tell my daughters about my growing up years, about my family’s history, both the proud moments and the shameful ones.  I’m going to cook them the rice pudding my grandmother made—hot and sweet and soupy—even though she didn’t like it, because she knew it was our favorite. I’m going to teach them the phrase “I can smell the barn,” put on Mario Lanza’s Christmas album while we open our stockings on Christmas morning, and sing to them while we swing in our backyard.

Together, we’re going to recover identity and rebuild culture, out from the shadows of whiteness.  Together, we’ll relearn who we are, reclaim our own uniqueness, and reject the tendency of whiteness to define “normal.”  And we will meet God there.

Last night, I made tuna casserole for dinner and it tasted good.

Engaging Our Workplace with Our Love for Jesus

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by Scott Roth, Leadership Minister

There is a gap that happens with people as we transition from our Sunday to our Monday.  Recently I read Discipleship with Monday in Mind, by Skye Jethani and Luke Bobo, which explores faith and vocation and how to make them more of a focus in church ministries.

This topic has stirred me as a pastor and organizational leader. How do we create environments that help us to engage our workplace and our love for Jesus?  

The woman at the well (John 4) is a reminder of Jesus showing up in daily living. We also see this with the calling of the disciples as they are fishing (Matthew 4:18-22). Time and time again we see Jesus engaging people where they are.  

In their book, Jethani and Bobo explain how early church clergy would be on the church property on Sunday. Then, during the week, clergy would head out to the countryside and the villages to engage their people where they lived and worked. Wow!  Now, many churches expect the pastor to be at the church during the week, in the office, being on call and in a waiting posture. What if pastors were out of the church building and engaging the workplace?

Recently I have started this process. I invited Laurie to come to my workplace, not the church office, but to Bike and Sol, the non-profit bicycle shop where I serve as director.  We sat in the shop area as I fixed a bike.  We engaged on a variety of topics involving her life and Jesus.  People would stroll in and out and we would interact with them as well.  It was such an uplifting time.  We got to be the church to a few folks and the Kingdom was present.

Later I visited Scott, one of the owners of Bolton’s Farms, at his workplace. Not only did I get to see Scott in a different environment, but I was able to fly his drone and tour the farm. Through questions and observations, I began to understand what they did and how it operated.  I learned that at Thanksgiving, they provide meals to 5000 feasts!  This was a reality check that one of our church families was affecting 5000 homes every Thanksgiving. What does that mean for me as a pastor?  As a church?  As the Kingdom of God? 

In the book, Discipleship with Monday in Mind, we are reminded that in Genesis humans were built to work and relate. God needed to rest after creating the world. Work is not a curse. It is a part of us to live.

I want to encourage you to engage your faith with your work.  No matter what stage of life we are in, can we engage Jesus where we are?  I am not talking about making a sign for your desk or wearing the latest t-shirt to work. Instead, can we find ways for the relationships that we have in our church to also be those that happen during the week? Are we able to invite our church family to engage our work family?  Do they need to be separate?  

May you find ways this week to see Jesus in your day to day.  May you see God moving throughout your work and vocation.

Seeing With New Lenses

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by Hendy Matahelemual, Indonesian Light congregation (Philadelphia, PA)

When I was a little boy, I wanted to wear glasses. I used to play with my parents’ glasses. I would put them on, but of course, I could not see clearly.  My parents would discourage me from playing with their glasses. But I felt so cool when I did. Both of my parents wore glasses and some of my friends at school did too. So for me, glasses were cool. That’s why I was a bit disappointed knowing that my vision was just fine, 20/20, and I didn’t need glasses. That was a long time ago.  

“20/20 vision” is a term used to describe normal visual acuity measured at a distance of 20 feet. At the beginning of 2020, I was excited in my faith, believing that God would give me a “perfect vision,” but my excitement changed after the pandemic hit. Now six months have passed. Seeing God’s vision each day is not easy in 2020, or maybe we just need to see it with a new lens. 

What is God’s vision for me this year? The writer of Proverbs said, “When there is no vision, the people perish” (Proverbs 29:18, KJV).  I often pray, “God, I want to see what you see, I want to feel what you feel.” Sometimes I get a revelation, and sometimes I don’t. But one thing is for sure: God always gives me a new lens. God always shows me a new perspective. 

No one could predict 2020 was going to be like this: pandemic, war, police brutality, racial justice issues, wildfires, hurricanes, earthquakes, economic crises, and more.  No one saw it coming, but is this a new thing?  

The book of Ecclesiastes (1:9) says,  “What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun” (NIV). Maybe this is right; there is nothing new.  Maybe the reason that we don’t see it is because we choose not to see it. 

Every aspect of humanity has fallen. In the era of the fastest 5G internet connection, humanity is still very slow to forgive and forget. Most humans still choose to retaliate rather than turn the other cheek. It feels like the four horsemen are just around the corner. 

My friend said to me recently, that at this particular time, she can really understand the proverb, “Ignorance is bliss.”  It’s easier for us to wear our comfortable glasses instead of wearing the glasses that see all this messy reality. God wants us to have “perfect vision,” seeing the world as this big mess that only Jesus can heal (both in Spirit and with His second coming). Or as my friend said, “There’s no Messiah without a Mess.” 

Seeing with a new lens means that we see reality as it is, fully embracing pain, fear, struggle, and suffering to the fullest before giving it to God. Sometimes seeing with a “perfect vision” means that you will have blurry vision, a vision with less clarity, due to the tears in your eyes. These tears come because you finally understand the pain, struggle, and suffering in our humanity.  

Sometimes seeing with a new lens is seeing with a grieving eye. As Jesus said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matt. 5:4, ESV).