Reflections from our 50th Anniversary Celebration
We asked four people who became a part of our community during different eras to reflect on the following questions: What did this church mean to you when you were here (in any of the realms of worship/spirituality, community, outreach)? How did that change you and/or how did you carry that out into the world?
Reflection from Doug Basinger:
A few of us were asked to speak about what this church meant to us while we were here and how did that change how we have carried that out into the world. I added two prompts for myself that I found helpful for reflection: what prompted me to begin attending this congregation and what inspired me to continue.
When I arrived in San Francisco from Washington, DC, in August 1979, aged
27, driving a very orange Datsun B510 and pulling a small trailer full of files for the National Congress of American Indians, plus my own few possessions, I stayed for a few weeks on Alamo Square with a Goshen College acquaintance who grew up in Japan as a missionary kid and returned there shortly after I arrived. He was definitely not part of the church community here.
I showed up at Haight Ashbury Mennonite Fellowship in September of that
year because it was the only Mennonite congregation in town. The pastor,
James Rhodes, and family were still visiting family in Virginia. The
congregation was very small and met in the living room at the VS flat on 142
Beulah Street. I think six of us besides the VSers attended my first Sunday
evening service.
I continued my participation, tentatively, for the first number of months.
Attending my first fall retreat on my birthday weekend, I wondered if I really wanted to join such a small group that seemed to exhibit a great deal of intensity about all issues. I did not sign the covenant that first year.
A great deal of transition occurred over the next months as James Rhodes,
the founding pastor, decided to return to Virginia. That unilateral decision
startled the intentional community, Basilea Partners, that they had formed with four or five other members of the congregation. I recall that the congregation at that time talked about three groups of members: Basilea Partners, the VSers, and the “independents.” I was an “independent” and often felt that term was used in a bit of a demeaning manner, implying that we “independents” were unable to make stronger congregational commitments! In those early years, there was discussion each year at retreat to determine if such small group would continue to meet. I always advocated for continuing.
My involvement continued and increased over the next years and, after one
year in San Francisco, I accepted an assignment with Mennonite Board of
Missions as a full-time regional director for the Voluntary Service (VS) and Student and Young Adult Services programs. Lois Janzen joined me half time and we “hired” a VS admin and located our office in the Glide Memorial Church building. We held those positions for three years and, I feel, our involvement in churchwide activities helped maintain a vital connection with the larger denomination for our little congregation. Please note that there were no VS local program coordinators during this era.
I was also invited to serve on two local boards on behalf of our congregation:
Ecumenical Peace Institute and San Francisco Emergency Food Box Program (which merged with the San Francisco Food Bank a few years later), continuing the local ecumenical connections our congregation had already
established.
Over the 35 years I was in San Francisco, this congregation became my
primary worshipping and spiritual community. I think I must have served on
every committee the congregation ever had. Since I had always been connected with the larger denomination in various ways, I feel those were
helpful connections for the congregation as well. If there is one thing I would have to highlight, it is the intentionality and thoughtfulness of our worship services, which is especially meaningful for me, as someone who leans “high church.”
One image for this congregation comes to mind: a sphere created by strips of cloth packed together to create a ball that is not completely circular and, therefore, does not always roll smoothly in any one direction. Sometimes a strip or two of cloth slips off and other strips join, but the ball continues to roll. Sometimes the ball seems to roll into a corner and go ‘round and ‘round. Other times it rolls (more or less) smoothly in one direction for a
while before slipping off in another direction. Sometimes the ball feels small, tight and cohesive. Other times it feels looser, as if it might fly apart. Yet it remains a lumpy, somewhat circular ball. All in all, it’s the sphere I spent 35 years with and in, and it has greatly influenced me.
Reflection from Rebecca Slough:
Not Knowing What to Expect
Joe and I visited FMCSF for the first time in August 1984. I didn’t know what to expect. I had always attended congregations of 200 or more, so I wasn’t sure what a much smaller congregation would feel like. I knew and appreciated that FMCSF welcomed gay and lesbian members, but I wasn’t interested in being part of a congregation that saw welcoming queer people as its sole purpose. For a few months, I listened very carefully to what this small congregation said about itself and what it did. Slowly, it became clear to me that affirming gays and lesbians was just part of who FMCSF was; it did not limit what this congregation did. So I (we) stayed.
Congregation of Migrants
While we attended FMCSF, the congregation’s meeting location changed five times: from the small space rented from the Brethren in Christ congregation on Guerrero, to the school classroom farther south on Guerrero, to Dolores Street Baptist Church, to the Presbyterian Church in the avenues after the fire at Dolores Street, and to the Lutheran Church back on Dolores, where we were meeting when Joe and I left the area.
I know that FMCSF could have marked its identity as a “real church” if we had purchased a building. I thought then and I think now that it has been a blessing and continues to be a great freedom for FMCSF to rent space instead of being encumbered with a building to maintain. For over 50 years FMCSF has been a “real church” through the quality and strength of its relationships, its scrappiness in taking risks, its ability to adapt to new things, and sometimes simply by “making it up as it went along.” Owning a building can greatly inhibit all of these ways of being.
My Ordination
FMCSF’s decision to ordain me is a key marker in my life. It still means a lot to me that this congregation was willing to bear witness to my abilities to lead and serve the church, even though I did not feel called to pastoral ministry.
The energy of God’s Spirit and your affirmation on that ordination day have given me confidence over these years, especially in leadership situations when I did not know what to do or could not see a way forward. Like when…
- An FMCer called me in a bit of a panic and asked if I would lead a memorial service for a friend who had overdosed;
- When, during my Clinical Pastoral Education term serving as a weekend chaplain, I was called to meet the parents of a stillborn daughter who wanted to have her baptized;
- When leading a memorial service for a beloved leader of the Walden School who died in a plane crash;
- When talking with many students who found themselves in a place of vulnerability as their faith perspectives and life plans came unhinged and they needed help to hang on;
- When shaping Anabaptist Mennonite Biblical Seminary’s response to the legacy of John Howard Yoder’s sexual misconduct;
- And most recently, serving as board chair in my congregation during a season of big transition in a 125 year-old church that does not change easily.
In these instances, and countless others, God and you have been with me in spirit, and I am grateful.
Deciding Everyday to be Mennonite
One morning while we were still living in the Bay Area, I was brushing my teeth when it occurred to me that nothing in the visual environment outside of our apartment reminded me that I was Mennonite. I passed many Christian churches going back and forth to Berkeley, and I was often on seminary hill. But there were no billboards for Bethany Christian School, Goshen College, Everence Financial Services, the Depot Resale Shop or Ten Thousand Villages as there are on the route from our house to downtown Goshen (Indiana).
Living in El Cerrito, I had to get up every morning and decide that I was going to be a Mennonite Christian. And I could do that because I was part of THIS congregation that had decided IT was a Mennonite Christian community – intentional in building relationships with each other, learning together, supporting each other, worshiping together, and rooted in the Anabaptist heritage. The times when I’ve been back here among you, I can feel that some things have changed but not what is most basic – a common commitment, care, curiosity, and trust that you have in each other and in God.
So, thanks be to God for First Mennonite Church of San Francisco – for what it has been and what it yet will be.
Reflection from Randy Newswanger:
I moved to San Francisco in 1997 at the age of 30. I moved because I had met the founders of InterPlay and wanted to study with them in Oakland.
I knew about First Mennonite Church because I met Russ, Dan, Ed and Jim, and John and Doug, maybe Charity, at queer Mennonite gatherings, although at that time we were only gay, lesbian and sometimes bi.
Michael Bauman was an acquaintance from college. John and Doug, Ed, Russ, Michael, Dan and Kenda helped me unload my moving van in the Outer Sunset when I arrived.
I needed a Mennonite church that was willing to affirm my life as a gay man so that I could decide if I still wanted to attend a Mennonite church without the church excluding me, which had happened in other places.
I attended church retreat. I felt good about being here. Karen and Steve were in Japan. Sheri was in Montana. John Miller was concluding his time as minister. The church was in disagreement about his contract being renewed. I thought, “I’m going to let this church figure out its pastoral transition without me.” I had been attending church on Sunday morning here and Sunday evenings at Metropolitan Community Church. I started attending Sunday mornings over there, a few blocks away in the Castro. For five months, I took a break.
But then Easter came around, and I sang at the early service at MCC, then left because I knew I could still make it to the Easter potluck lunch somewhere on the Peninsula, maybe at Kevin and Jennifer’s home. Food and fellowship brought me back.
I told my faith story on a Pride Sunday at the Lutheran church, then went downtown with church friends to watch the parade.
I was disheartened when a July service only had seven people in attendance.
With Pat Plude, we planned worship services and brought out more of my creativity. With David Wieand, we organized an occasional billiards evening. With Ann Speyer, we discussed circles of simplicity. With Jeff Lehman and others, we had a men’s group.
For New Years 2000, I hosted a group of friends and didn’t have enough bedding for them to crash at my place, even though I had futons and floor space. I decided that rather than buying blankets, I would ask the church community to borrow some. You helped me rebuild my trust in church.
We had a small group work through a non-violence curriculum.
I remember helping plan church retreat with Judy Georges, with Pat, with Sheri, and with others.
I made the large Dutch Blitz cards with Bart’s laminator and laminating sheets.
When the Mennonite Convention was in San Jose, we had a pre-conference BMC event including the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence.
With Karen Kreider Yoder, I taught middle school Sunday School on Anabaptist history and writing our own parables.
With Charity Denlinger, I co-chaired the Steering Committee when we decided to move from the Lutheran church to this synagogue, and that gave me grey hair.
And when the VS house was for sale, potentially complicating the future of the VS program, I thought it was a good idea for the church to own it. I facilitated some processes. Hopefully I wasn’t too pushy. And I helped make it happen. I bought out existing tenants, and I lived there for a while.
I joined Dreams Group for four years, and then for a few more.
With Jesisca Bigler Uhl, we created the East Bay potluck. Yes, many of us can host 20 people in our living rooms if everyone brings their own silverware.
And I attended many many, many holiday meals in homes and hosted a few.
I started my own tradition of a birthday drop-in all-day parties for myself. Pancakes for brunch, make your own pizza for supper.
Now that I’m living near my parents and other extended family, I notice that every holiday is with relatives, and I miss holidays with you.
I’ve been having unsettling dreams lately. Often I know what they are about. But I might need some more help. So I’ll call you soon.
I learned what I love in worship and how to create it.
You helped me organize and plan so much church community life and allowed me to grow. I believe in that more than ever.
I remember the extensiveness of our lives together with much gratitude.
I love you dearly, deeply, and forever.
Reflection from Amy Bolaños
I have had many opportunities to move elsewhere over the past 24 years of my time here in San Francisco, as many of you have done, and as my father would’ve preferred. If it were up to him, I’d be living a very different life in Pretty Prairie, Kansas, right now. Every time the deliberation presented itself, the decision to stay always won out, primarily due to the influence of all of you. When asked who/what God is to me, this community is the first image that surfaces in my head.
When I arrived in 2001, fresh out of Bethel college, without a clue of what I wanted to do with my life, I was welcomed with open arms and a Saab convertible as Russ, the MVS Local Program Coordinator at the time, picked me up from the airport in my cousin Dan Flickinger’s sporty car. As Russ
explained what and where my VS placement was going to be, both my excitement and my anxiety about the drastic cultural changes that I was about to experience that year began to rise. I had just graduated nursing school, worked three months in a nursing home in South Hutchinson, KS, and now I was to be a primary care nurse in the Tenderloin of San Francisco, serving a majority homeless, low-income population. I almost turned and ran. Feelings of loneliness and overwhelm began to creep in, even though I almost instantly loved my new roommates, Ann Speyer, Norm Kaethler, and
Vanessa Leite.
Then, two days later, we attended our first First Mennonite (which we affectionately refer to as FMCSF) church service, and I immediately felt at ease, despite it being in the unfamiliar setting of the dark, cavernous Lutheran Church on 19th/Dolores. Sheri, the “new” pastor, was preaching on Marcus Borg’s book Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time, a book I had just studied in my Basic Issues of Faith and Life class at Bethel led by the late Patty Shelly. While the details of the sermon elude me now, my basic impressions were that I was grateful that I could continue to learn in church, exploring provocative questions. I could tell that Sheri, like Patty Shelly and Marcus Borg, was willing to explore the complexities and context of the biblical stories as they related to current day realities and invite us all to understand them from a fresh perspective all while being rooted in the teachings of Jesus. To this day, the worship at FMCSF is grounded in that ethos, with the annual Fall series Back to the Basics, a revisiting of foundational topics of our faith that have become challenging to us over the
years, as well as the weekly sermons by Sheri and Joanna that always offer a novel perspective on the lectionary texts. To be welcomed by a community that understood and welcomed my background and where I was coming from and also challenged me to grow, was such a gift.
Another thing that FMCSF does really well is develop leaders. Straight out of the gate, they identify one’s gifts and invite them to use them. By my second or third Sunday, I was singing or worship leading in front of the congregation. I was also invited, when it was clear I was staying a second year, by Pat to be the nurse and Director of Student Life at her music composition camp Walden School, which consumed at least five of my subsequent summers with a few summers off in between to get married
and have two kids. In addition, the established practice of inviting congregants to share their faith stories is a key component to the development of leaders. The humility and vulnerability that it takes to share in that way, in this way, has been instrumental in my formation as a good leader. I continue to draw on all of my learnings from FMCSF in my leadership role as a Nurse Manager today, and I think all of my direct reports are better off for it.
Another thing that has shaped who I am in all of my roles (a mother, a nurse, a manager, a friend, a fellow human,) is the way that FMCSF has held me through all of my life transitions, ever reminding me that I am a beloved child of God. You all really know how to step up and lean in when we need it:
using rituals, being a witness, providing meals/child care/financial aid/advice/spiritual direction. All of these gifts were critical in getting me through the various stages of my life:
- differentiating from family,
- Vanessa’s fiance’s death,
- falling out with the Walden School,
- Cancer and chemo,
- Alma’s death,
- losing friends to moving away or death,
- my divorce,
- And so much more…!
This community, through all of its own significant transitions, continues to thrive, to expand its welcome, to challenge each other to grow, to develop leaders and to support each other in all of our joys and sorrows, truly being God’s light in the world.