After attending the “People’s Summit for Faithful Living,” in Winnipeg a few weeks ago, I’ve been thinking about the reasons we gather.

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Some fine reports were written on the summit, here and here. The only things I would add or highlight would be…

In addition to Canadians, white people were also over-represented. (Out of 570 participants, I’d estimate around 550 were white.) Not to say that such numbers preclude valuable interactions or prove tokenism – I greatly appreciated some the learning tracks that connected indigenous traditions with relating to our creator and caring for creation – but I think it’s important to notice.

I also had a notable conversation with a young pastor who’s drawn to working with suburban youth – creating vibrant alternatives to our destructive culture and showing them there can be more to life than what we consume. I’m glad to know those conversations are happening.

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So as a participant I got some ideas and resources, met some cool folks, and ate off compostable plates. But I’m still not sure that conferences like this are justifiable in their current form.

For me, three big factors stand out as troubling:

Impractical. I realize theology is important, but I get frustrated when I leave a gathering without much of practical value for living more faithfully. (The PAPA meet-up seems like a refreshing change.) Are my expectations too high?

Over-representation of white people. This gathering isn’t unique. (For example, before I attended the Mennonite Church USA Delegate Assembly in San Jose 2007, a friend encouraged me to count how many of the 150 Hispanic Mennonite churches had sent their youth groups. Looking for the whole week, I saw two. Also the conference theme was translated in Spanish on all the promotion materials, but when I was ushering for a worship service, no one could find any translators.) From what I can tell, these gatherings basically serve white people who speak English.

Use of environmental resources. The Mennonite Creation Care Network’s “Nonference” – deciding not to hold a long-anticipated conference – spells out a lot of the specifics.

Learning from one another is certainly valuable. But I think many people like me (educated middle-class white Mennonites) know what’s right and healthy to do, and the challenge is learning how to implement it. And focus our energies locally. Or maybe we should have criteria about when to hold a conference and when not to?

~ How will this gathering advance liberation with marginalized people? (i.e. build anti-racist institutions, resist imperialism, challenge homophobia and promote healthy sexuality, support the poor in ending poverty, etc.) What is the accountability so that this will happen?
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~ Understanding that most long-term and sustainable work is based in communities from which participants would come, to what extent will this gathering enrich the work of these communities?
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~ Would this gathering still be “worth it” to us if we were traveling by more sustainable transport to attend? (bike, train, cargo ship, etc.)

I believe that gathering can be enriching, delightfully complex, and holistic. What gatherings would stack up the best?

How can we have less tiring, status quo gatherings and more joyful, liberatory ones?

ST’s post reminded me of a conversation I had last September with someone I’ve admired for his consistent commitment to justice-making over decades (peace and development work in Vietnam during the American War in that country, international and community interfaith work with the Fellowship of Reconciliation, etc).

Knowing that it can be easy to burn out or drift toward the mainstream, I was interested in how he’s sustained his passion and activism over the course of the years. His answers came almost faster than I could write.

- Plant a garden and connect with the earth.
- Nuture your own heart and soul – and connect with those of others.
- Connect with artists, music.
- Take Polaroid camera along so that you can share/leave something with those you visit instead of taking all the photos along with you.
- Suspect people with education who can rationalize anything.
- Don’t let it go to your head — stay close to common people.
- Political people without sense of humor kills spirit and soul.
- I married an artist who’s a private person who keeps me from burning out (He mentioned that alone he might tend to invite everyone to their home at all times, and she helps maintain some important personal space for their family).
- Draw on faith.
- With a global community, you can bounce ideas off all sorts of people.
- Community living.
- Cultivate diverse skills (He has worked as an electrician when other “movement” work was not available).
- Gotta get through the phase of having young kids (if you have kids).
- Had to learn how to fix houses (they remodeled a number of houses, which they’ve then sold off).
- Beware of the self-righteous.
- Cultivate good friends who can call you out when you’re too smart.

He then ended with this analogy:

When a mirror aligns itself with the sun, it can be really powerful. We are mirrors, not the source. So align yourself with the forces of the universe – Be in the way. Ask yourself, “Is everyone winning?” That is the work of God.

I’ve appreciated these bits of advice because they arise from his very tangible experience and relationships — they’re grounded and practical. (I’ve since brought plants into my room, and my first tomatoes are starting to ripen — delightful!)

What wisdom have other YARs valued hearing from mentors or previous generations?

A friend and I were invited to be respondants at the upcoming conference — “At the Crossroads: Promise and Peril 2008″ in Winnipeg. I feel like our household is involved in kingdom work and has plenty of connections/theological grounding for the work. And it sounds like some solid folks are already going to be there, representing much of what I would be saying. So I’ve been wrestling with whether to leave life-giving work in my neighborhood for a conference I’m unsure about.

QUESTIONS ASKED BY THE CONFERENCE:
Why does God work through people-hood even when that people is not deserving?
What does covenant mean and how does that inform our questions of faithfulness?
What are the temptations of God’s people in the land in which they live?
Where do God’s people find security as they live in the land and are tempted by wealth, power and ownership?

I have my working answers to these questions. We’re working to live them out in the neighborhood.

The core gospel message is not difficult to understand. It’s difficult to live. Anyone who’s paying attention knows what needs to happen, how we need to live. (use less oil, fight militarism, reduce consumption, learn how to love the earth, build relationships with people on the margins of empire – both within and without this nation, for staters)

I want to be exploring ways of living in solidarity, and sometimes it tires me out to have to explain, convince. I feel like they’re asking, “What does our peace witness mean in the context of the Iraq War?” — and then asking us to take a break from our anti-war organizing to come discuss the question of what a peace position means in a time of war.

I want to be asking tactical questions about how to organize — and we’re doing that here in Elkhart. I don’t want to argue that the gospel means we should drive less, consume less, etc.

The gathering “will focus on the theme of ‘the church living faithfully as a contrast community in our global reality.’” The gospel message is not to be a “contrast community” because it makes us feel good and become free of the world’s impurities. Rather, the point is that what we’re called to is relationship with the marginalized and a platform of liberation.

I see how my living and working in this neighborhood supports liberation of marginalized peoples. Through reading the promotional material, I haven’t been able to see that this conference does it. And when I can, I try to avoid devoting significant energy to things that aren’t supporting liberation.

Am I missing something?

Is our attending a way of giving back to the church in gratitude for the simultaneously valuable and flawed support that its members and institutions have given us over the years? Does that obligation to give back make up for the fact that I’d be using lots of energy to go there instead of working in this neighborhood where I do feel called?

In order to learn from one another’s experiences, AMIGOS periodically sends out discussion questions to be shared among young people connected with Mennonite World Conference. The current questions are:

- What do you do to shape up your spiritual life?
- How do you pray? (for example: times in silence, etc.)

Para aprender de las experiencias de los demás, AMIGOS periódicamente manda preguntas para discusión para ser compartidas entre jóvenes conectados con el Congreso Mundial Menonita. Las preguntas actuales son:

- ¿Qué haces para mantener tu vida espiritual en forma?
- ¿Cómo oras? (Por ejemplo: tiempos en el silencio, etc.)

One response has come from Matthias Gallé, 23, a computer-science student from Argentina, who describes one practice he’s found comfortable for remaining still for a long period of time.
“In the last few years, a few times I’ve used a “meditation bench” to pray. I’m not sure about the real name of this furniture or its origin, but I’ve seen it used by Franciscans and read that it was used in Sufism, a branch of Islam.”
Una respuesta nos llegó de Matthias Gallé, un estudiante argentino de 23 años que estudia informática. El describe una práctica cómoda para quedarse quieto por un tiempo prolongado,
“Desde algunos años, vengo utilizando (pocas veces) un “banco de meditación” para orar. No estoy seguro sobre el nombre real de este mueble ni su origen, pero lo he visto utilizado por franciscanos y leí que también se usa en el Sufismo, una rama del Islam.”

Going on to describe his more common practice, he notes, “Normally I fill my life with different activities, so I have found it very useful to remain quiet for a little while – praying before a time of silence and reading a verse in the middle.”
“I’m not sure if I can say that in this time I have heard God’s voice, but for sure I have realized some sins in my life (so I suppose that the Holy Spirit was doing its job), and I’ve made some good decisions afterword. But usually my praying time is much more hectic :(. Normally I precede it with a short reading from the Bible, perhaps half a chapter. May we all take the time to hear God’s voice.”
Describiendo su práctica más común, comenta: “Normalmente lleno mi vida con diferentes actividades, asi que he encontrado muy útil de permanecer quieto por un tiempo, orando antes de este tiempo en silencio y leyendo un versículo en el medio.”
“”No estoy seguro de poder decir que he escuchado la voz de Dios, pero sí que me he dado cuenta de algunos pecados en mi vida (así que supongo que el Espíritu Santo estuvo haciendo su trabajo) y tome algunas buenas decisiones. Sin embargo, por lo común mi tiempo de oración es mucho más agitado :(. Generalmente lo precedo con una lectura corta de la Biblia (medio capítulo). Que todos podamos tomarnos tiempo para escuchar la voz de Dios.”

How would you answer the discussion questions?
¿Cómo responderías tú a las preguntas de la discusión?

(AMIGOS seeks to encourage the growth of a global community of young Anabaptists, and is organized as a global initiative of Mennonite World Conference. For more information on the global church or the role of young people in North America, contact us through amigos.mcusa (at) gmail.com)
(AMIGOS busca la manera de fomentar el desarrollo de una comunidad global de jóvenes anabautistas y es organizada como una iniciativa global del Congreso Mundial Menonita. Para más información de la iglesia mundial o el papel de jóvenes en America del Norte, diríjate a amigos.mcusa (at) gmail.com.)

In the past few months I’ve been noticing a startling trend. Some of the most passionate people of my generation are returning to their home communities. After college, after working overseas, a surprising number of my peers are deciding – when they could go almost anywhere – to move back to the places they grew up.

Now, you might say that I’m biased – having just moved to back Elkhart, IN for Mennonite Voluntary Service when I grew up one town away in Goshen. And I am certainly excited about how our unit is flourishing in its first year — serving as a means for a number of us young people to re-commit to an area where we’ve already had ties.

But it’s not just us. A woman raised in central plains has returned to commit herself to finding ways to live sustainably. After two years with the World Council of Churches in Geneva, a seminarian returns to intern at a congregation of farmers and businessfolk. A group of recent graduates from Goshen College decide to travel among the Central States conference for a summer of learning about how people in their home region approach peacemaking.

The trend has surprised me because – growing up with stories of overseas missionaries and foreign service workers – I always assumed that leaving home is the highest calling for those most committed to justice and the church.

But I’m hearing rumblings that not everyone is called to live in places far from where they grew up. Lora wrote, “An acquaintance of mine, who is in college hundreds of miles away from where he grew up, once suggested that perhaps one of the most radical things he could would be go home after he graduated–commit himself to the land and the people and his church and stay there, for better or for worse.”

When I get down to it, the notion of being called to one’s home community doesn’t seem that strange. For most of human history people have worked for justice primarily in the communities where they were raised. And as Anabaptists we have long traditions of calling pastors from with a congregation, a number of Mennonite institutions have provided support for people of color to work in their home communities, and Mennonite Church USA has been talking about living missionally wherever we are.

But perhaps hearing stories about mission at home haven’t made the same sort of impression on me because I’ve always understood serving close to home as a sort consolation prize for those who can’t serve far away. Hearing people with vast opportunities who are deciding to return home helps me realize that this option never was second-best.

Learning to celebrate work rooted in home communities has helped me challenge the implicit hierarchy I once believed in of foreign service over local. So while I treasure connections across the global church and these relationships help shape the way I live, I’m realizing that my primary calling may be to work within fifteen miles of where I grew up.

Since moving to Elkhart six months ago, it hasn’t been simple but I’ve had an undeniable sense of being in the right place. In my work as a community organizer, connecting with my neighbors is much easier given that I already know the local high school football scene. And my history with white Mennonite churches in the area has been a great asset in the organizing for immigration justice in the last few months.

Does anyone else know of folks who’ve ‘moved back’? Considered it yourself?

Why would you go home – or why not?

Some recent discussion here has suggested relating posts to action, which is part of what motivated me to post this note here. Many of you all may have heard about BikeMovement (young Mennos biking across the US and talking about church last summer, biking SE Asia this summer), and there’s a documentary on the US trip being finalized in the next month.

I’m writing about it here because I’m working on a study guide that will be sent out with the DVD to Mennonite congregations across the US, hoping to continue and expand conversations we had along the trip — what does it mean to cultivate a relevant community? how does that play out (or not) in church as we’ve known it? where do we go from there?

As I’m working on this study guide, I’ve been thinking some about style and form — how can this be most accessible and useful for the folks who we’ll be sending it to? Impact that a number of the planners are hoping for is that people who use it will feel empowered and hopeful, think critically about their church experience, and want to work for broader and more authentic inclusion in daily lives and the church.

I was wondering what resources, study guides, or Sunday school curricula you all have found useful for working on these kinds of questions — extra points if these do well addressing questions of race, sexuality, age and/or education levels among participants. Cause it seems like there would have to be good materials and models out there which spur churches to critical reflection and action, I just haven’t been around using any to know what they are.

So any tips and links would be much appreciated — and perhaps helpful in a broader sense as we consider what can help new action happen in the fleshy faith communities we find ourselves in.

Maybe I should explain where I’m coming from. For a while now I’ve been struggling personally with how to deal with patriarchy in the church – most specifically male language for God, the male images of God I can’t seem to get rid of, and views about sexuality from the church and the Bible that seem to vastly over-represent the experience of men. I’ve been reading Sue Monk Kidd’s Dance of the Dissent Daughter: A Woman’s Journey from the Christian Tradition to the Sacred Feminine, which has very beneficial in helping me see things like the workings of male dominance and how one woman responds. But as Monk Kidd notes in the book, it seems that for those who have grown up male, the process of challenging patriarchy in our spiritual lives is distinctly different than for those who have grown up female. There may, of course be some overlap, but Monk Kidd suggests that perhaps the journey for the latter category is toward recovering the self, and the former toward humility. So I’m looking for some role models, men who’ve thought deeply and tried to act and live in new ways – because I think men fighting patriarchy has to have a different slant to it than when women do.

For comparison, reading Tim Wise’s eye-opening and personal insights in White Like Me: Reflections on Race from a Privileged Son, gave me an idea of what it can look like act as a conscientious white person attempting to be anti-racist. And in that vein, I’m wondering if other folks are aware of well-grounded stories of men writing about what it’s like to confront patriarchy in the church and their personal spiritual lives (preferably confronting heterosexism too, but such texts might be few and far between). I’m interested in male feminist theologians too, but the details of day-to-day life and church seem more pressing to me at the moment. So, recommendations?

I’m someone who’s mostly been away from Mennonites for the past three years, but having the distance has shown me (maybe by omission) the value for me of relationships with young Anabaptist folks — particularly ones who are passionate about investigating what it looks like to try to form our lives and relationships based on taking seriously this faith we supposedly ascribe to.

I was talking with Sarah Thompson — who’s the North American representative to AMIGOS, the Mennonite World Conference’s global young adult network — about those sorts of interests (wanting to get to know passionate Menno young folks, to talk about the church and if/how it fits with us), which is what tipped her off to nominate me for the position I’m now in as the Mennonite Church USA rep to AMIGOS. More specifics will be coming up on AMIGOS, I’m sure, but feel free to check in or ask any questions y’all like.

Perhaps an insight into what my dad calls the basic “furniture of life” would be helpful before I go too much farther. I’m Jason Shenk, a white guy generally perceived to be heterosexual who grew up in Goshen, Indiana, and who’s currently a senior at Earlham College (a marvelous Quaker school), majoring in Peace and Global Studies. My study in the past year has also included a semester abroad in Jordan and a summer intensive at the Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminaries. I am a member of 8th Street Mennonite Church in Goshen, and this summer I also attended the Faith House Fellowship, a smaller, house-church gathering on Sunday evenings. So that’s the furniture, for what it’s worth. Not the most significant, but a lot of it I’ve chosen and like pretty well.

Some interests of mine include biking, international development, doing dishes, hollering at sporting events, and anti-oppression activism. I’ve also done a fair bit of work with Mennonite-Muslim relationships in the United States, interning with the Islamic Society of North America and writing a few pieces for Mennonite Church USA. In terms of general Mennonitey interests, I’d also include how struggles over male-dominated leadership, sexual orientation, expressions of peacemaking, and access to great material wealth have shaped the character of the Mennonite Church over the years (as well as how this process has affected young adults).

I guess my path looks to be boomerang-ing back toward the world of things Mennonite for after college wraps up in May. I’m looking for some sort of Anabaptist-ish context in the US which will immerse me more fully, but am looking pretty explicitly to locate near some of the growing edges of Anabaptism. I hope to see more clearly what all that looks like here presently.

Pysched to have this space (does anyone else still use pysched?) to throw around ideas and experience — I know I’ve had a good time reading for while here before I got my game together for an introduction. So, into the fray…