The Other Side of Fear
Fear has been a bit of a theme for me this year. It started at the Laurelville Worship and Song Leaders retreat in January when Megan Ramer (the pastor at Chicago Community Mennonite Church), preached an amazing Easter sermon called “Fear Not.” Then, in preparation for lent, the theme of fear sprung from the gospel stories–Jesus being tempted in the wilderness, Nicodemus facing his wealth, the Samaritan woman speaking with Jesus, and Jesus’ journey to the cross.
The question for Germantown Mennonite this lenten season is, “What lies beyond the fear?” As we’ve begun to reflect on that, the story of our removal from conference and denomination has been a strange source of hope for some of us.
In 1997 and again in 2001, we were removed from two separate Mennonite conferences. And with these removals, Germantown Mennonite, the oldest Mennonite church in North America, was no longer part of the denomination it brought to the New World.
There was a ten year period where it was very difficult to be at Germantown Mennonite church. We were angry, we were heartbroken, and we were fearful. We wondered where God was in all this. And, we wondered what would happen next.
One lenten season, shortly after our 1997 removal, I remember my friend, Doug Brunk, dramatically reading Ezekiel 37.
After Ezekiel lamented to God, “Can these dry bones live?”, the Lord told Ezekiel to prophesy to the dry bones, saying, “I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord.”
This was where we were at the time. We were brittle and needed the Holy Spirit to breathe new life into us.
And eventually, the Spirit began to stir within this congregation. And amazing things started to happen. New life emerged. The church began to grow, not just in size but in joy. We began to laugh and talk and play again. Now, seventeen years after our removal from Franconia conference, there is a joy in having been through the hard things together, and lived to experience a resurrection of our own. It doesn’t mean that there aren’t hard times, or that we don’t ever experience the sadness of life. It means that we carry with us a wisdom of living through death, and coming to a deeper appreciation of our life together.
Perhaps it feels a little cliche right now to say that after this current mess with the denomination, there will be joy and dancing. If I heard someone tell me this in 1997, I would have reacted with anger. Joy doesn’t feel like the right answer in times like this.
But take it from a congregation that has lived through two removals from conferences, a congregation that gets put in the “other” category whenever we register for any Mennonite event, a congregation that loves this tradition for which we are a part–there will be joy. It will happen. The bones of this denomination feel brittle and void of life, but our God is opening the graves and breathing new life into God’s people.
It’s a hard time to be a Mennonite. There are things that the denomination has done that feel awful, and have done violence to our spirits. But there is hope. God is moving among us. And soon, very soon, we will dance joyfully together.
The Decemberists, “After the bombs”.
After the bombs subside
This long low campaign calls it good for the night
We meet in the streets, we meet in the bar’s cold light
We grip at our hands, we hold just a little tighter
After the bombs subside….we’ll go dancing, we’ll go dancing, we’ll go dancing.
8 Comments
Germantown has been an inspiration to me and so many others by your example and steadfastness through times of difficulty by speaking prophetically and staying true to your beliefs. May you indeed dance with joy and continue to feel the spirit infusing your church with breath and life!
It is interesting, Amy, to read your take on the 10 years at Germantown after we were kicked out from Franconia. As you may remember, Germantown’s expulsion from Franconia Conference brought Susan and I back to Germantown. While I recognized that the expulsion cost a great deal of pain for some in the congregation, I don’t think that people were aware of how much hope and joy was brought when Germantown made a stand for the inclusion of people who had been excluded and marginalized for so long. Germantown’s faithfulness to the presence of Christ in the persons of our gay and lesbian members will go down in the history of the Anabaptists in America as a great cause of hope and joy.
The Spirit never stopped stirring in the congregation. Because so many people were grieving for a period of time, the congregation did not attract the number of new members that it has attracted recently. And there were, of course, unrelated trials along the way. Now, with its surge of growth and excitement, Germantown can enjoy a different phase of the Spirits leading. Those ten years might have been difficult for you to be at Germantown. There was need for rest and the sealing up of wounds for many members. For Susan and I those years were a time of satisfaction and fulfillment as we were able to step up and support an exhausted group that had suffered for convictions that were central to our understanding of what it meant to follow Jesus. We are not so involved now. But we are still very proud of Germantown Mennonite Church.
A very inspiring story. I am with you in continued hope. Our Anabaptist fore fathers knew the meaning of rejection but lived to also experience joy in their life together. I remain hopefull!
thanks for the invitation to respond.
Thanks Amy, This was a blessing to me today