over and around the rainbow

What do you get when Mennonites, Methodists, and a Mayor make lunch? Goulash!

Last winter Rachel Hostetler and I volunteered at the Willa Gill Food Kitchen. I knew that Rainbow volunteers helped serve lunch at Willa Gill periodically and so I thought I’d take a turn. Little did I know that I would be working alongside Kansas City, KS Mayor Mark Holland (pictured here with Rachel Hostetler and Kathy Isabel) .

The Food Kitchen Director Michael Serrano was too shy to let me photograph him, but he wasn’t bashful about the history of the place known as The Wilhelmina “Willa” Gill Center. From 1970-1987 Mrs. Wilhelmina “Willa” Gill was the Emergency Assistance Services Director of Catholic Social Service in Wyandotte County. Eventually she was inspired to initiate a free meal program to those persons homeless and hungry. This ministry, initially known as St. Mary’s Food Kitchen, would eventually end up in the basement of the historical St. Mary’s Catholic Church.

In 1997 thanks to funds initiated by Mayor Joseph Steineger, this free meal program, now called Hot Lunch Service, Inc,  moved to Wilhelmina Gill Multi-Service Center known affectionately as “Willa” Gill.

Thanks to volunteers from 51 area churches and one synagogue, the Willa Gill Food Kitchen continues to serve lunch seven days a week. Rainbow and Trinity Methodist Church team up every other month to serve a Friday lunch.  Our next scheduled time is this coming Friday, August 7 from 10:30 am-1:00 pm. Willa Gill is located at 645 Nebraska Ave in downtown Kansas City, KS. If you are available and interested in helping serve food, please contact Rachel Hostetler at rachelh@rainbowmennonite.org.

Who knows, maybe the Mayor will be back!

What could have been an awkward moment this past Sunday turned into laughter and fun. Tara Lindahl came forward to lead the time with children, but unfortunately no children came with her. She and Ashton Wells handled the situation like pros and before long we were all smiling and laughing. There’s something sweet about hearing a congregation laugh together on a hot July morning.  Here we are smiling and acting strange.

We are a bunch of characters aren’t we? Even Dr. Jantz couldn’t help but jump up when he heard, “It’s time to take a picture.”

There was a lot of talk on Sunday about images, pictures, snapshots, and congregational character. And so it seemed fitting to share these caricatures created by my husband during the congregational meeting this past Sunday. Can you guess who these characters are?

I often see Jesse drawing during my sermon and I always wonder what he’s hearing/drawing.

In case you weren’t one of the characters at Rainbow on Sunday, you can click below to read my sermon. And feel free to send me your drawings, impressions, or questions!

Keeping it strange

I wish I could be transported back in time to the Mennonite Church located on Rainbow Boulevard, known at that time as Kansas City Mennonite Church. I would choose April 20, 1964. That is the day many young scholars in Kansas City stood at the front of the sanctuary of the Mennonite Church and were awarded a Certificate of Courage for scholarly attendance at the one-day institute of learning called Freedom School.

Standing with these scholars was Stan Bohn, first pastor of the Mennonite Church. You can see Stan listed as the Instructor on the certificate pictured below.

The certificate reads as follows: “This certifies that that this student has satisfactorily completed the requirements of a one-day institute on securing the freedom of all children in Kansas City, Kansas to receive equal educational opportunities, that they may be able as equals to build a better life for themselves and better world for all.”

I found this certificate recently in a worn file folder that Stan Bohn gave me. It was at the bottom of a stack of file folders labeled “Rainbow Freedom School 1964.” I tremble each time I look through this folder containing many treasurers: Curriculum notes and schedule, instructions for how to participate in peaceful demonstrations, highlights of African American history in the United States, and a collection of song lyrics. A memo to Freedom School instructors states:

We must always keep in mind that the children attending these freedom schools will be there because their parents have decided to register a protest against the inadequacy of the segregated schools curriculum, and indeed, the policy of de facto segregation practiced in the Kansas City, KS school district. The time is ever ripe to introduce the idea of personal worth and human dignity through equality of opportunity to an inquiring mind. An attempt will be made to do so in the freedom schools. A curriculum and a list of activities that may be followed to help implant a concept of personal value in a complex social structure is prepared for you…Let us dedicate ourselves so that no child will be injured, physically or spiritually, on this day of protest with the help of people like yourselves and God’s blessing, WE SHALL OVERCOME.”

Up until recently Stan and I had no idea that Freedom School connected our two ministries. He was just as surprised to learn about our Freedom School today as I was to learn about his Freedom School in 1964.

Unlike Stan, the 100 courageous scholars getting ready to complete a six-week Freedom School program this week do not see me as an Instructor. (Although one scholar did ask me the other day if I was the Principal.)  Instead, I will be standing alongside these scholars with everyone else who has supported the program with prayer, money, love, and time.

I will smile, as I have day after day, as I listen to them sing, dance, and cheer. I will shed a few tears as I think of everything their teachers have done this year to encourage these young people to believe that they can and do have inquiring minds, personal worth and dignified spirits. Yes, WE SHALL OVERCOME…together.

All are invited!

Freedom School Program Finale

Thursday, July 23 from 6-7 pm 

Vox Theatre (across the street from Rainbow)

My good friend and Mennonite Church USA and Western District Conference pastoral colleague Joanna Harader often gets strange looks when she introduces herself around fellow Mennonites, especially when those said Mennonites are more accustomed to the last name “Harder.” Sometimes she’ll show up to Mennonite events and her name will be spelled Joanna Harder. I guess people just assume she made a mistake and spelled her name wrong on the registration form? Or maybe it’s just that we often see what we’re accustomed to seeing. (I’m kind of jealous that she gets an extra A. Plus, I wish Joanna and I would have gone to the same elementary school together because I’m sure we would have always ended up in line with each other, and I have no doubt we would have created mischief together.)

I’m told that last week the delegates of Mennonite Church USA went around their designated tables and shared about the significance of their last name. Apparently this was the opening get-to-know-you question and I guarantee that some people felt uncomfortable with this exercise and others probably loved it. When you are the only one at a table who can’t trace family lineage to anyone else around a table, or God forbid to anyone in the entire delegate hall, then you quickly feel like you on the outside looking in. If, on the other hand, you are someone with rich Mennonite blood, whether Type Swiss, Type Russian, or Type German, this question is great. In fact, often when I see Mennonites making family connections, it includes some kind of long, sustained, and excited “Ohhhhhhhhhh.” I have started to jokingly (and inappropriately) refer to these as Mennogasms. For many, it is quite pleasurable to play the game of who’s who in the Mennonite Church.

Personally, I’m rich in Type Mennonite Brethren blood. This means that when I introduce myself in Mennonite Church USA circles, people often go down the list of all the Harders they know and after each one I have to say, “No, I’m not related to them…I’m of a different blood line.” Even that gets exhausting and I even know most of these other Harders!

For Mennonites who insist on playing the name game, maybe at the very least we should start with the significance of our middle names. Then again, that isn’t always comfortable either. My husband’s middle name, for example, is “P”. This is usually met with a chuckle or two (at least I still chuckle).

It’s natural to want to establish connections with people. We ask questions in order to locate people, to find commonalities or shared interests or history. This is all fine and good so long we don’t make assumptions within our very questions or so long as we are ready to spend just as much energy getting to know the person next to us as many of us do connecting the family lineage dots.

Speaking of connecting the dots, I’m starting to look toward the next big Mennogasm, I mean gathering, which will be the Western District Conference (WDC) annual assembly on October 30-31 in North Newton, KS. I found what I think is a full listing of all the pastors in WDC. I wrote all these names out the other day and decided to play the connect the dots game. It was a way for me to be in prayer for my fellow colleagues as we prepare for our own delegate sessions. It was a way for me to connect to these beautiful names/people: Harader, Pellecer, Tlumang, Limones, Kreider, Schmidt, Mascho, Cazares, Klingenberg, etc.

This Sunday I will pick up on some of these themes of who’s who in the Mennonite Church. My working sermon title is “Mennonite (y)our way.”

On Sunday, June 28 Hannah Heinzekehr and I lit these 21 candles, each candle representing one of the 21 conferences within Mennonite Church USA. Ten days later I returned to Rainbow and felt the urge to light them again. With each candle I tried to call to mind a memory, a face, or an experience from this past week that shone brightly for me.

I lit the first candle for Sarah Klaassen who preached a remarkable sermon on Tuesday evening. Click here to read it: Preach, Preachers! 

Sarah Nichole Klaassen

I also lit candles for all who led, prayed, protested, sang, and broke bread on Tuesday evening.

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I lit another candle for John VanderHeide. John approached me after worship last Sunday and asked me what my self-care plan was for the week ahead. Two days later he  arrived at Rainbow with fresh-baked bread for the Tuesday evening communion service. I ended up carrying the extra loaf with me throughout the week, offering it to people whenever I had a chance. The number of people that John’s bread fed and nourished this week was of biblical proportions.

Communion

I lit three more candles for these three courageous women: Theda Good, Rachel Halder, and Joanna Harader. Here’s hoping some of their courage rubs off on me.

I wished I had a thousand candles to light as I gave thanks for voices joined together in song.

Next I lit some candles as I thought of Rainbow Mennonite Church. So grateful to be working, serving, learning, worshipping, questioning, and hoping alongside this Rainbow community.

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The next candle I lit was for my husband Jesse who kept the cats fed, watered, and out of trouble last week. Jesse never fails to make me laugh and keep me calm (sort of).

Finally, I lit a candle for Mennonite Church USA. It took a couple of times to light this one due to the tears streaming down my face. We can do better people of God. Let’s keep working. Let’s keep hoping in the struggle. Let’s keep on down that road of liberation and peace. And let’s remember that while the road might be long, if we learn anything from Luke 24 it is that the road/way includes nourishment, surprises, study, prayer, grief, and hope. The Risen One is with us. The Risen One invites us to keep walking down that long and dusty road toward liberation.

And now for a few article links for those who want to read more about MennoCon15.

• http://mennoniteusa.org/category/news/
• http://kcur.org/post/mennonite-convention-draws-thousands-deals-question-same-sex-marriage
• http://mennoworld.org/2015/07/06/news/claiborne-tells-mc-usa-community-is-possible/
• http://mennoworld.org/2015/07/08/news/lgbt%E2%80%88advocates-pursue-acceptance-at-kansas-city/
• https://themennonite.org/opinion/the-children-are-listening/

They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” -Luke 24: 32

I  am coming down with a serious case of Mennonite heartburn. Unlike regular heartburn though, I’m not reaching for a cure or remedy. This is a different kind of heartburn. What I feel is more akin to adrenaline.

This feeling of heartburn is intensifying as we approach the biennial Mennonite Church USA convention June 30-July 5. I am eager to see cherished friends, family, and colleagues. I anticipate making new friends, learning new things, and hearing and singing great music. I am thrilled with the ways Rainbow Mennonite Church is participating in convention and I will be proud to tell people where I am serving as pastor. Yes, I have heartburn and I’m loving it.  Of course adrenaline tends to run out eventually and I’m fairly certain that the heartburn I’m more accustomed to will cause me to reach for my readily available Tums supply, or perhaps something stronger. Any suggestions out there?

The heartburn that I currently feel and that I hope won’t wear off anytime soon is a feeling of being inspired. There is a lot going on in the Mennonite Church that is hardly inspiring and is down right disheartening and even heart breaking. Congregations and individuals are threatening to leave while others are eager to join, but aren’t welcome often as a result of their sexuality.

Yes, my heart breaks and aches a lot of the time. And yet, I also see and hear about people and Mennonite communities who give me the kind of heartburn that feels right, good, and important. In opening and wrestling with the pages of Scripture, and in prayerfully considering their lived experiences, these people have discovered Jesus as the One who exposes and transforms the powers and principalities of this world—those forces that would oppress, dominate, and destroy life. These people are teaching me that to open the pages of scripture is to be open to this One who challenges us to see those powers and principalities at work in our lives and in the world. To open scripture is to open ourselves to change the way we treat others, our bodies, money, and the environment.

This to me is a central message of Luke chapter 24, the selected scripture text for convention next week. This story features two heartbroken disciples as they walk the seven or so miles to the town of Emmaus.  Their leader Jesus has just been tortured and executed. They are in a state of trauma as they process his violent death. Then suddenly a stranger starts walking and talking with them. With each step, and then later during the breaking of bread, their hearts start to burn. That is, they begin to see through the pain and violence toward a new horizon of peace. Eventually their grief is transformed and new insight and new vision found. They are once again able to narrate the good news that violence and oppression will not and does not have the last word. Step by step with Jesus they/we learn of a different way to live. The question is will we see/recognize and then follow this Jesus? Will we join with others in dismantling violent and oppressive forces in our world today, always looking toward and for the horizon of greater peace?

With this question in mind,  I will be looking for and listening to the bright shining people  who are leading the way in this hard and holy work of dismantling oppression. Fortunately I already know some of these people and feel privileged to work, learn, serve, cry, wrestle, and hope in the struggle alongside them.

I say bring on the heartburn! Perhaps Jesus is still among us opening the scriptures to us in new and surprising ways, leading us hopefully to take steps , even if baby steps, in transforming forces of oppression and hate in this world.

Click on the following two links if you are interested in seeing some of the seminars and learning experiences that will be offered during the week of June 30-July 5.

http://convention.mennoniteusa.org/schedule/seminar-schedule/

MennoCon 2019 Schedule

Finally, for those interested in learning more about the Mennonite Church USA denomination, here is a link to an article I recently submitted to The Kansas City Star.  http://www.kansascity.com/living/religion/article25576564.html

Believe it or not, I never ever set out to be a preacher.

Ruth with a mullet

As a young girl, I was always more comfortable dribbling basketballs than I was speaking or writing. I thought if I was made to do anything, it was to give a 30 second inspirational speech in the basketball huddle as a coach. When I went to seminary I was intent on earning a dual degree in social work and ministry. My dream job was no longer to coach basketball, but to lead a non-profit organization. Even today when people give me the title of preacher, I still squirm a little and want to say, “but I’m more than that…”

Quite frankly, the life of a preacher didn’t seem very exotic. As a preacher’s kid, I knew how early my dad got up on Sunday mornings. Plus, I learned early on that preachers don’t always get praise around the Sunday noon table (sometimes it’s the preachers’ daughters who are the most critical). Still to this day, I sometimes sit at home at noon on Sunday and wonder who might be roasting the minister for lunch. Maybe it’s okay that most sermons, whether they are good or bad, have a short shelf life.

I have come a long way in embracing and even enjoying the preaching role. And yet I still have moments when fear, anxiety, and insecurity lurk at the edges of my preparation. I’ll admit that some of these old and worn anxieties about preaching have bubbled to the surface over this past year as I have joined with others in designing and preparing for a new pulpit at Rainbow. Insecurity sometimes grew as I heard an impressive range of opinions, values, preferences, complaints, criticisms, and theological insights about preaching and the place of a pulpit. I would guess that the new pulpit has come up more than once as the Sunday noon roast.

Throughout the planning and design process, I have done my best to listen, learn, sharpen, and clarify my own evolving thoughts about preaching and the place of the pulpit. And so, as we prepare to dedicate our new pulpit this Sunday, I would like to share a few of my own thoughts and hopes.

First, the pulpit isn’t just about or for the pastor. The pulpit and preaching  belong to the church. I heard the President of Princeton Theological Seminary Craig Barnes say once that the art of preaching is a conversation between biblical, historical, theological ideas, people, and experiences. All of these things should whisper to the preacher, almost like conversation partners/figures peering over books saying, “What about me?” Preachers, he said, should not only do biblical exegesis (exploring the history, theology of the scripture), but congregational exegesis (exploring the joys, sorrows, questions, and spirituality at work in a particular congregation). This is what compels me to spend time every week, sometimes early on Sunday mornings, not only standing up front at the pulpit, but walking around the sanctuary and the church. I try and take this work of congregational exegesis seriously.

Second, the pulpit is not an end in and of itself. One of my favorite pulpit-related comments made by a Rainbow member this past year was: “I don’t care so much about the look of the pulpit, as much as what is said from the pulpit.” We agreed that we know it is a good sermon if it plants something in us that grows throughout the week.

Third, preaching is about remembering the past, present, and future.  During a recent conversation with retired pastor Clyde Coriell, he said that when he approaches a pulpit he feels surrounded by a cloud of witnesses. One doesn’t feel so alone at the pulpit  when one imagines the words, prayers, and questions of those who have gone before, all of which may be mysteriously residing at the pulpit, perhaps preserved in the very wood.

Last Sunday at Rainbow Je T’aime Taylor talked about the Sankofa symbol used by the Akan people of West Africa.  In order to know where we are going, we reach back into our history to honor the sacrifices, survival, and perseverance of those in previous generations. And so this weekend we will strive to do just that. I am thrilled that several former Rainbow pastors will be here this Saturday and Sunday to help us dedicate the new pulpit. We will use this occasion to reflect not only on preaching, but on what we are calling “Faithfulness through the years: A look back at Rainbow themes, challenges, events, and stories.”

Stan and Anita Bohn of North Newton, KS

First RMC pastor Stan Bohn will be the preacher for the morning and I will share a benediction written by Frank Ward for this special occasion (unfortunately he won’t be able to make the trip to Kansas City after all). Please check the church website calendar for more information on the special gatherings scheduled for Saturday and Sunday. Hope to see you there!

In 2009, Diane earned her Master’s of Divinity degree with concentration in non-profit management, urban studies, and spiritual formation from Nazarene Theological Seminary. Upon graduating she collaborated with surrounding nonprofits in the Kansas City area to increase social services at the Rosedale Ridge apartments up the hill from Rainbow. This included designing and implementing a year-long youth development training program to assist those who worked with after school programs across the KC Metro. In 2014 she was the Project Director for Rainbow Mennonite Freedom School. We’re grateful for all the ways she and her husband Dave make Rainbow and Rosedale a more just and beautiful place.

What follows is a guest blog post entry by Diane Richardson Spaite. Thank you Diane, for being a persistent, courageous, compassionate, and bold community leader and advocate here in Rosedale and beyond!

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Just as the leaves were beginning to turn, I walked onto the Rosedale Ridge apartment complex for the first time in 2009. Within a month of graduating from seminary, I made a risky decision-to stay in Kansas City and seek employment nearby hoping sometime in the near future to be married.*

When I started walking on property, I soon realized I was in over my head and resorted to my recently re-found belief in prayer. Prayer-not something we do to manipulate God into action like Santa Clause, rather the opening of oneself to having eyes to see and ears to hear where the Healer is already at work. Distinctly, I prayed each morning-sometimes with a soft spirit and other times just begging, “God PLEASE help me to be faithful to be your love today.” And over time, I began to sense this response, “I am already here-I’ve already been here ahead of you,” and so my prayer changed. “God, please help me to see where you are.”

Over the past 6 years, I’ve had a connection to the place and the people who live at Rosedale Ridge. I’ve witnessed neighbors helping neighbors, mothers caring for children, dad’s carefully providing for their families, families grieving from the death of their baby from SIDS, tragic fire, corruption, chaos, people taking advantage of others suffering, social “helps” that destroy people’s lives, dance groups, dedicated community members and so much more.

Working with and among any people is emotionally evocative but working closely with people who have ended up in project-based affordable housing has challenged me and changed me. I hate that our government systems keep (yes keep) people living in poverty. I hate that many people living in affordable housing are those persons in our American society who are systemically oppressed-persons of color, immigrants, elderly and those people who haven’t had access privilege. I don’t use the word “hate” lightly but I better understand the indignation referenced in scripture often times in the Old Testament in reference to God’s disdain for those who take advantage of those people who are beloved image bearers.

More than anything I’ve mentioned however, I have learned to believe God’s promises to be with and among those whom society would rather hide up on hills are real. Love isn’t just present in theological rhetoric or in nature-God is present in the everyday realities of the resident’s lives. For me, mercy and grace have been incredibly evident through the diligence and the work of Rainbow Mennonite Church. I have constantly been overwhelmed with Rachel Hostetler’s presence, listening ear, utility advocacy and welcome to many members of the Rosedale community. I’ve been floored by the tireless efforts of the Outreach Committee to make homemade meals for the community meetings, offer transportation and greet residents with the utmost dignity and respect.

And, I see faithfulness evident in the lives, resilience and faith of the people who make up the Rosedale Ridge community. At some point in the advocacy process, we realized it was time to encourage more resident leadership. In our very first meeting together, we connected with Javon Swopes who was adamant that God would provide a way for her and her family. She was also adamant that in the midst of this we should be seeking help and direction from something other than ourselves. She’s not the first resident I’ve encountered who’s challenged, spurred on and enlivened my faith. I can be the worrying sort and the kind who feels forgotten in times of trial-but here these beautiful people are still believing in, claiming and living out their faith (for most of them Christian faith passed on from generations of family members who have believed). I’m just as quick as the next 30-something-er to second-guess, question or react up against organized faith traditions and yet many of these residents believe.

There’s no other way to explain what I’ve witnessed. It’s palpable, you can smell it, taste it and touch it. It’s louder than the crisis, it prevails through the violence and becomes most powerful as the intensity rises. It’s the sort of faith that can move mountains-and it has. So while I have opinions about process and concerns about logistics as the residents move from their apartments, I firmly believe that the One who makes all things new in the here and now has been, is being and will continue to be faithful. This Spirit, or as Ruth and Rosie called it “Whoosh” will walk with the people in the transition ahead and we are the lucky ones to have been a part of it-even just a little bit. *Thankfully, it all worked out and my decision to stay paid off with a life-long partner/friend and eventually a puppy. ___________________

Here are a few more links for those who want to learn more about Rosedale Ridge and current realities:

http://kcur.org/post/mold-rats-and-uncertainty-run-rampant-kck-housing-project http://kcur.org/post/going-separate-ways

http://www.kansascity.com/opinion/readers-opinion/as-i-see-it/article20554095.html?fb_action_ids=10206528083705889&fb_action_types=og.comments

Rosi Penner Kaufman tells me that the first email she has between us that mentions the word “Whoosh” is dated Nov. 7, 2013. Something  happened during worship planning that seemed more than coincidental and one of us said something like, “Sometimes the Spirit moves,”  and the other said “Whoosh.” We started closing our emails to one another with the word “Whoosh,” or “May the Whoosh be with you,” or “Still waiting for the Whoosh.”

It only seemed natural for Rosi to have her very own WHOOSH mug. I gifted her with this mug during our WorshipArts celebration last Sunday. This was a thank you gift for her work as project director of a $12,000 WorshipArts grant that we received from Calvin Institute of Christian Worship. There are many other people worthy of receiving a Whoosh mug including Terri Gaeddert, our co-WorshipArts leader. They would both testify to the power and importance of the Whoosh, especially this past year at Rainbow. Here they are holding a paper crane after a LONG day of setting up WorshipArts displays.

For those who have never heard of WorshipArts, it is a Sunday morning opportunity for K-5th graders at Rainbow. This group meets during a short window of time between the closing hymn of worship and Sunday school (anywhere between 10-20 minutes). Terri has articulated the four goals of WorshipArts as follows: 1) Fostering relationship/sense of belonging; 2) Facilitating authentic participation; 3) Encouraging reflection and response; 4) Integrating what we learn from the children’s perspectives into the broader context.

The following video further describes what it is we do and hope for in WorshipArts. It was created by the brilliant and creative minds at Flint Hills Design. I get a feeling of Whoosh every time I watch it. I hope you have a feeling of Whoosh too.

Several months ago I left the Reference Council gathering of Western District Conference feeling all twisted up. I don’t particularly enjoy talking about or stirring up controversy. There are others much more skilled than me in this department. I feel much more at home in smaller gatherings where there can be more dialogue, deeper listening, and give-and-take conversation. So as I stepped to the microphone I felt nervous. More than that, I felt wracked with pain as I thought about the divisions, conflicts, and suffering being experienced today in the Mennonite Church, a historic peace church. A part of me feared that I would be yet another person adding insult to injury. I often think of the following Barbara Brown Taylor quote: “Human beings never behave more badly toward one another than when they believe they are protecting God.” Of course it is much easier to accuse others of behaving badly. What if I’m the arrogant one, zealous in protecting who I believe God to be?

Another reason I felt twisted up after this particular gathering is that I was raised within Western District Conference. And so, as I stepped to the microphone my life sort of flashed before more eyes. I looked out and saw members of my home-town church where I learned about Jesus. I looked and saw former Bethel College professors who showed me how to love the study of Scripture with heart, soul, and mind. I looked and saw friends, my dad, former and current church members, fellow Camp Mennoscah supporters, and parents and grandparents of close friends. Finally, I looked and saw fellow colleagues in ministry who I’m confident know what it is like to feel all twisted up, uncertain and afraid of what conflict over biblical authority and sexuality is doing to our individual bodies, the bodies of those we love, and the body we call the church.

As I stood at the front of the room, I saw faces of those who have always been taught or led to believe that people who are attracted to the same gender are the ones who are twisted up. I saw faces of mothers, fathers, grandparents, and siblings whose faces were twisted in grief because their children have been denied entry into the church or ministry because of their sexual orientation. And then there was the person in the back who sat with his hands over his face the whole time I spoke. What was his story? I wondered.

I thought of the ancient benediction, “May God’s face shine upon you and be gracious to you.” I didn’t see many shining faces at this particular gathering. Instead what I saw were bodies, faces, words, twisted in fear, pain, grief, and anger. How I long for the day when this is not so.

Sometimes it feels as though the entire Mennonite Church USA body is all twisted up. Instead of being this well-functioning, beautiful body of Christ that the Apostle Paul talks about, it’s like we’re all sprawled out on a Twister mat, all vying for our rightful spot on the game mat. Bodies (some bigger than others) are reaching, flailing, and as a result some are getting injured or worse, getting tossed from the game mat entirely. Some see God or the Bible as some Twister Color Dial Controller. The Bible determines where each person stands, whom by, and where we can and cannot place our body parts. End of discussion. Or to stretch this metaphor even further, some study the Bible and sense God giving a green light to those in same-sex relations. Others are more cautious and stick to the yellows and oranges, and still others choose to stand firmly on red, unmovable.

Assuming we don’t end up collapsing into one big pile at the end, I keep wondering how the Spirit of God might be moving in between and among us. How might the reconciling Spirit be indwelling and redeeming all of our twisted up customs, traditions, and theologies, drawing us into new life, perhaps even new colors, new community?

Whatever happens this summer at the Mennonite Church USA convention will happen. Meanwhile, I commit to praying the following prayer every day from now until June 30:

May the Lord bless us and keep us.

May God’s face shine upon us and be gracious to us, and give us peace.

I will say this prayer of blessing with gratitude for the ways I have already felt blessed by the gifts and ministry of people of a variety of sexualities and genders. I will say this prayer of blessing in hopes for a day when queer people will be allowed and encouraged to bless the church more and more with their gifts. Finally, I will continue to hope that the reconciling Spirit will grant us all the grace and humility to remember that God’s blessing is not owned by any one of us. We need not cover our faces in shame or in grief. We need not stay twisted up.