Young Anabaptist Radicals

Hey folksies. My names Charles. I’ve been lurking on and off here for quite awhile and finally got around to joining this excellent community of quality folk. And thus I have to introduce myself.

But let’s preface some of the particulars of where I come from and where I’m going with a much more fun sense of who I am.  I’m a very vocal, people oriented person. I love good conversation and do most of my best thinking vocally while in dialogue with others. Which unfortunately means I’m not a very good writer (hello, text ridden blog world), so part of what excites me about YAR here is a chance to engage in dialogue with intelligent people in a new medium, I think I’ll find that stretching. I like to laugh, I like to smile and I’ll hug just about anyone (though  I’m now getting better at recognizing appropriate hug settings :P). I enjoy good beer, fine wine, nerdy boardgames and plenty of other geeky activities (especially those involving other people).

I’m a Mennonite and was raised as such. I spent about six years in the Mennonite education system graduating from Goshen with a degree in Bible/Religion. And I’m going back in the fall for an MDiv from AMBS. I just can’t escape. (more…)

Greetings, my fellow YARs!

As I am the newest and probably youngest contributor to this community blog, I thought before posting stuff here I should introduce myself.

I am seventeen (thus I think I have proven to be young) and I am a Kraut, as American G.I.s came to call Germans, when they occupied Germany after liberating us from fascism, although I rarely eat kraut at all. I was born into a Mennonite intentional community in a small town, which is why I always somehow found it funny when people are so amazed by community living - for me that’s everyday life.

The Anabaptist tradition has been passed along to me by my parents and still I think I can still call myself radical, because I chose it myself in my baptism and everyday life.

My hobbies are rather nerdy: reading, playing chess, Pen&Paper games (I am still working on an Anabaptist P&P set in the 16th century…) and peace.

What more is there to say: Oh yes, the military just sent me a letter, that my examination will be next summer and that I would have very good career options if I became a sergeant (in Germany we have a draft).

Hello, I am glad to be here.

Well I am sitting down, forcing myself to write this. I’ve been back in my community in Perth Western Australia for about 2 months – I guess that’s long enough. The title is a lame attempt to sum up what the content of this entry is - you know like titles used to. I’ve not written for a while a number of reasons; writers block call it.

My wife and I were refused entry to the UK in early September, this event adding further interest to our Sabbath year. (We have been involved in a car accident, were in Melbourne at the time of ‘Black Saturday’, an old friend was murdered, we were not paid for work we did in Australia … I’m sure theres more)

Our experience at Heathrow was another first. We came to the gate at about 6 am local time and after a short conversation were placed somewhere for special people – in detention. After 4 or so hours we had a secondary interview and then told of our imminent return to our last port – Singapore, a cool 12 hour flight.

There was this sense in rubbing up against a beast, so large that even if we pushed with all our selves we would not move it. We resigned ourselves to returning. The beast was the UK’s Home Office.

The Home Office said that we were lying about our intention to come for a holiday for 5 months - that we were going to work. I’m a nine on the enneagram (I think) so I’m great at seeing other people’s point of view. I can see a little of what they meant, in our lack of preparation.

But, they wouldn’t let us access the internet to prove our cash resources, didn’t give us independent advice about our options, were not transparent about either processes or laws and relied on theories of what people will and will not do. I’m white and my first language is English and I was confused and frustrated by my treatment. I cannot begin to imagine the experience of others who were there. We met with people who were arbitrarily detained from Africa, Sri Lanka, and Brazil all of who were allowed in after some hours (their visas were fine only the staff took a disliking to something).  Spending time with them was great, we would try to comfort them, explain things to them and talk with them.

(more…)

Dearest all, my name is Hilary. Perhaps, this will allow you to get to know me a little bit: I love cutting vegetables and baking bread. There is something about getting my hands entangled in earth-turned-food that reminds me of what is important in life. One of my favorite things to do is to come home and sit with my neighbors on their front porches.  Becoming entangled in the lives of created human beings makes my own roots grow deeper into the ground. I cannot remember one time in my life (since the 8th grade) when I turned down an opportunity to go dancing! Moving my body, giving my body the right to take space in the world and the space to create its own story has been a tool for healing that has never failed me. And that considered, I have recently been breaking into the world of body prayer… and I am loving it.

COLOR. My soul is suffocated without color. When I was little, I used to refer to different buildings and stores according to the color of the light in them (pink light, yellow light, blue light…). Recently, at a time of extreme stress and hardship in my life, I impulsively went to a convenience store (the sort of store I never step foot in) and bought 6 different colors of bright nail polish (without checking to see if they were tested on animals and without letting myself think about where the money was going..). When I was home and my nails were flaunting the obnoxious hues, the pressure in my bones drained, and my own breath returned. If I could have a canvas the size of an entire wall, and gallons upon gallons of natural paint, the joys of my life.. color, bodies, movement, creation, relationships.. would all fold in on each other in one beautiful act of worship.

I care about lots of things. I care about wholeness in communities, in our congregations, in our global relationships and in our personal selves. I care deeply about respect and justice. Without these, we condemn ourselves to eternal brokenness. (more…)

Greetings everyone,

I am the newest contributor to the YAR blog, and as is the custom here, I was asked to introduced myself. I won’t bore you with my life story. I’ll keep it short and relevant.

My life is a complex journey, as all of ours tend to be in this day and age. I am a suburban southern kid who was raised during the corporate take over my once rural town. I watched the wild playground of my youth become paved and replaced with shopping malls. All the tree forts and hideouts we built as kids were replaced one-by-one with ‘real’ shelters, housing wealthy neighbors with well-manicured lawns. The whole infrastructure of my town shifted, and slowly, so did the income level and mindset of my family. The innocence of my youth was not only interrupted by all the normal challenges of adolescence, but also the rising consciousness of suburbia, consumerism, wealth, competition… capitalism.

For years I have been trying to forget what I know and remember what life was like before the corporate takeover of my town and my mind. Isn’t this the journey we are all on, trying to reconnect with our primal selves, our young innocence, our wide-eyed hope? This search has brought me so many places, literally and figuratively. I am currently living in Chicago, the third largest city in the country. I hate it. It’s a big concrete jungle, devoid of anything wild or natural. What keeps me here is the community house that I live in. But as the winter moves in, I will be moving out and navigating back to Florida, where I grew up.  I thrive in wild spaces, under stars, below trees. Though, I will say that as a student of herbal medicine, I love seeing tough healing plants rising between the cracks of abandoned factories. It gives me a glimpse of the coming kingdom of god. “A tree shall sprout in the middle of the city, and it’s leaves shall bring healing.” Revelation 22:2 (more…)

Hello.  My name is Josh.  And I am an Anabaptist.

Well, pretty sure anyway.  Theres only a small number of people using the label of Anabaptism is Australia, tho many more exploring the traditions and those related to it.

I came to anarchism and anabaptism through a marrying of my activism and earlier evangelicalism.

My wife and I live in a small community in Perth called Peace Tree.  Peace Tree has been around since ‘04, living in a forgotten neighbourhood trying to work out how to live as Christians in a society more interested in security and money.  Our community is small, a max population of 8, but perhaps 20 with sympathizers.

My wife (Amy) and I are actually away from home at the moment as well.  We’ve been 5 months in Timor Leste (me working on a Permaculture garden and Amy mostly teacing english).  This coming weekend we go the UK for 5 months and are keen to catch up with communities and like minded ppl.  I came across this blog trying to find out what is happening (I saw another community member - Jarrod Mckenna - being written about as well).  So, yeah, hello - I like coffee and gardening.

Peace

Joshua

To quote one of my favorite Sesame Street characters of my early years:

“Hello, Everybodeeeee!” (gotta love Grover).

I’ve just been given the privilege to be a contributor here on YAR and it was suggested that I give a bit of an intro so y’all know who it is writing this stuff.

For what it’s worth, concerning my denominational “pedigree”, I was born and raised in the Mennonite denomination.  At that time, the churches I went to were the MC churches (as opposed to GC).  My life started in Puerto Rico as the second son of two mission minded people.  My parents got their start in PR in Voluntary Service and spent 10 years there all told.  So, culturally speaking, while I’m German Mennonite by descent, my preferred flavor of church is a little less traditional.

I’m not sure how “young” I am.  I’m 36 years old.  But I guess I’m “young” in that I’m not stuck in the Mennonite/Anabaptist “church as usual” mentality.  We need to start thinking about what it means to BE the church and not just GO to church.  Life in the “church” is so much more than Sunday morning and the “church” is so much more than the institution that runs that Sunday morning service.  “Church” is who we are every day and should define what we then do every day.  If Sunday morning “go-to-meeting” should go away, the church will still be the church. (more…)

People have asked me if I grew up in the country or in town.  Well, kinda.  I technically lived within the city limits of Goessel but I could see a wheat field from my back yard.  In addition, while Goessel was an official town (signified by it’s own telephone prefix and a post office) the booming Mennonite metropolis of roughly 500 people isn’t exactly what I’d call “urban”.  Being the biggest football player, not only in my high school but my entire league, I followed the natural progression and went to Bethel College in North Newton, Ks to play ball.  Eventually I wound up with a Bible and Religion degree.  After college I worked for Buhler Mennonite Church as a youth pastor as I began studies at Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary Great Plains Extension (AMBS).  After four years at Buhler I finished up my degree at the AMBS main campus in Elkhart, In.  This last spring my wonderful, and patient, wife and I moved to Harper, Ks where I now work at Pleasant Valley Mennonite Church as the solo pastor.  Even though Harper is three times the size of my hometown (1,500 people) living here would still place us firmly in the rural category.  My wife works as a nurse at the local hospital which has a whopping 25 beds and an emergency room that is literally has a sign “ring bell for service”.  We’re not quite in the middle of nowhere, but we can see it from where we live.

That being said, if you have never been to the prairies to witness the great expansive and dynamic sky, then you are really missing out.  One can hardly question the awesome power of God watching a massive thunderhead develop in the hot summer evening.  With beauty comes power.  These storms that give life through their rain and are so beautiful to watch from a distance are also the same ones that have been known to destroy entire towns. (more…)

well, i’ve never been a part of a blog before - not for travelling, for politics, or for random thoughts - but this one was too tempting to pass up…

i am a canadian mennonite living in ontario. i grew up in winnipeg manitoba - probably the closest one could get to a mennonite geneva. my grandfather was a missionary, my father is the executive director for the canadian conference of mennonite brethren churches, i went to a mennonite high school, college… well, you get the idea. borscht courses through my veins.

and yet my experience with the mennonites has been tumultuous. my home church in winnipeg was as evangelical as most of the other non-denoms (similar to how matt t described his situation in his opening post). it was unclear to most in the congregation what it was about this church that made it different from others. i moved to the usa to start graduate studies - a master’s in theology - and attended a mennonite church of a different sort. i was able to see how mennonites could be different. however, when i brought some of these ideas and opinions back home, i was met with hostility (including being black-balled from the mb canadian periodical. the senior editor there wants nothing to do with me - i guess that’s what makes this blog so attractive: everyone gets the floor).

currently i am having problems attending church. there is only one menno church in my city and it is neither young nor radical. i am doing a phd in religion and politics, so i like to think through the significance of mennonite practices in a politically hostile world (even canada is in afghanistan). i hope to contribute and be intrigued with conversations via yar

joe

Hey y’all,

My name is Matt and I have been checking out your blog for a while now and decided that I wanted in on the action.

I am a Mennonite born and bred – in fact a Canadian Mennonite (so the y’all that I used above is put on). You can’t get much more particularistic than that can you? I am what is known as an ethnic Mennonite – quite an odd concept and all but there you go. I grew up in a church that was deeply conscious of the problems inherent in an ethnic definition of the term Mennonite and dealt with it by trying to do everything it could to get rid of anything distinctively Mennonite/Anabaptist. Maybe we were embarrassed about being Mennonite – God knows it was awkward to be associated with horses and buggies all the time. So we just tried to fit in with all the evangelical churches in town.

But the fact that we were just like all other churches meant that there was no good reason to go to our church (unless you liked Mennonite food!), so when I moved away for college I went to all kinds of different churches. Not until I worked for a Canadian Chinese Mennonite Church (OK, the category of Canadian Chinese Mennonite is even more particularistic than Canadian Mennonite!) did I find myself becoming committed to Anabaptist theology.

(more…)

I have a confession to make: I’ve never looked at porn. Okay, that’s a lie. But here’s the truth…….I’ve never sought out porn. Ever. Sure, there have been times in High School when a guy flipped me a rag, or in college when I went to a party and some guys were watching porn. And, like the rest of the 21st century world, I’ve accidently googled it from time to time. But I’ve never bought it, rented it, or pay-per-viewed it.

When I admit this fact about myself I get asked “Don’t you like it?”, “Are you not into chicks?”, “What’s the deal?”. Honestly, I never thought porn was good thing. I became a Christian at 19 so I had plenty of heathen years to look at this shit but I never thought it was right. Yeah, I’d probably like it. I’d probably like crack too.

I consider myself lucky. I’ve never met a guy who is in my position; who by 28 has been so “clean” of the stuff. Women might not know it, and maybe I’m letting the cat out of the bag here, but nearly all guys, universally, look at porn. Sorry to blow your cover fellas.

Anyway, an old Pastor of mine moved out to Arizona a couple years ago to start yet another church. He met this girl who used to be a very successful porn star. She comes to his church and is very vocal about her past. I’d post her myspace and what-have-you but I don’t feel like it’d be appropiate. So my old Pastor likes to make movies and they thought it’d be cool to make sort of an “inspired on a true story” type flick about this girl. They posted a “making of” online. (more…)

Tim asked me to introduce myself before contributing to this blog. So here goes…

I guess I’m young–although my wife has discovered a recent influx of white hairs on my head. And I guess I’m Anabaptist–although my parents had me baptized as an infant. But I don’t think anyone wants to include me among the “radicals” since I’m a pastor. Everyone knows that pastors aren’t radical. They are (we are) just pastors.

My name is Isaac Villegas and I pastor a Mennonite congregation in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. As I’ve discovered from wearing name tags at Mennonite conferences, my last name is a giveaway: my family tree isn’t rooted in Europe. My blood flows from south of the border. I’m the child of Catholic immigrants from Latin America who settled in Los Angeles, California. My ecclesial story meanders through various traditions. But my first memory of church is set in a modern cathedral, with lavishly adorned priests walking down the center aisle, incense wafting through the rows, and Christ’s transubstantiated presence beckoning from the altar of eucharistic mysteries.

But my family was pentecostal Catholic at heart, and that kind of hybrid Catholicism didn’t happen in our LA neighborhoods. So we turned to the anarchic pentecostal and storefront charismatic movements. Then evangelicals took hold of me during college. But they left me high and dry when I wrestled with the need for a faithful response to 9/11. The Mennonites saved my faith; they offered a communal witness of peace that took seriously the bible and the miracle-working power of the Holy Spirit.

I moved to North Carolina to help start a house of hospitality called the Rutba House. When we discovered that lots of other folks were doing the same things, we invited everyone we could think of to Durham for a conversation on “a new monasticism.” (If you want more information, we put together a book of essays: Schools for Conversion: 12 Marks of a New Monasticism.)

While I experimented with what we were calling “neo-monasticism,” I worshiped with the good people at Chapel Hill Mennonite. They taught me how to do church Mennonite-style–granted, a grass roots (i.e., radical?) variety of Mennonite that makes most sense to me. And for some crazy reason they thought it was a good idea to call me as their pastor. Only the Holy Spirit does stuff that crazy.

An older woman activist that I admire came up to me. She was obviously weary, and looked a bit as if she had just been crying. I had just received an email from her earlier, calling all the activists, who stand and witness for peace on Wednesdays at the Civic Plaza, to an emergency meeting. She asked me and my friend to come, saying in all sincerity, “we need a word of wisdom from the younger generation. We really aren’t sure what we should do.”

Only 2 or 3 people have been showing up in the last two months to the public witness here in town. Should we go on with our Wednesday 4:30pm vigils? Recently, the entire leadership of these vigils fell to this older woman–because others wouldn’t or couldn’t do it–and she was feeling exhausted. In addition to hoping to share the load with others, the sadness of the whole situation (16 more people were killed today in Iraq, for example) and the state of the world overwhelmed her. (more…)

Okay so we are Young Anabaptist Radicals—but that doesn’t mean that we are in agreement on the basics. I’m not talking about the basics of what is “young” “Anabaptist” or “radical”. These terms have been discussed. I mean the basics of what is significant—what is the good, what is truth, what is moral, what is justice, what is our hope, and how do we know any of these things? And what is the minimum that we expect others to agree with us in order to discuss any of these things? Some of the disagreements we have originate in differing opinions on these matters, and we often go to loggerheads in our discussions because we think others think as we do. Folknotions brought up this issue in Katie’s “Tired” post, and I thought that perhaps instead of assuming where we are all coming from, perhaps we should explore it.

So, this is my recommendation: If you can, put your basic worldview down in a paragraph or two, so we can know where you are coming from when we discuss things. If it is significant in your life, then talk about Jesus and/or Scripture, but the most important thing is that you talk about the foundation of your beliefs and morality, not what you think others want to hear. (more…)

I’m not a radical. Not in the sense that some people might see it anyway. The term might be associated with those who espouse a more liberal socio-political worldview. It’s been used that way. And by that definition I am not a radical. Nor am I a “Young Anabaptist Radical”. If young means “under 25 & unmarried” then I’m lacking in the young department (I’m 28, if you want to know). I’m also not an anabaptist. Maybe not one that would generally fit into the traditional “anabaptist” stereotypes (if such a thing exists at all).

I thought I’d come clean.
(more…)