Sermon: The State of Our Congregation

As we near the end of our congregation’s gala 50th anniversary year, pastoral staff reflect on the “state of the congregation” as we enter our 51st year.
Psalm 46
God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble with its tumult. Selah
-Psalm 46:1-3
Sheri:
Psalm 46 would have been sung during the Jewish festival of Sukkot. Instructions are for the high voices to sing it — so, mostly women would have been singing. Sukkot is one of many harvest festivals that occur around the northern hemisphere during October. For Jewish people throughout time, Sukkot not only celebrates the abundance of creation right now, but remembers the mighty acts of God in the community’s past and reaffirms the trust that God will bring them safely into the future. It was the most joy-saturated of Israel’s festivals, according to one Biblical scholar.
Sukkot is about joy, yes. But it is joy that has walked through vulnerability. For one week, Jewish households step out of their sturdy homes and into temporary shelters—fragile booths made of branches and palm fronds and open to wind and weather. By choosing that vulnerability, they remember in their bodies that their ancestors survived forty wilderness years with nothing but God’s presence to sustain them. So when they sing, “God is our refuge and strength,” it is not a pretty sentiment; it is a confession learned from history..
I find it interesting that Sukkot this year occurred during our own 50th anniversary celebration weekend last month. Remember that? Talk about joy-soaked. Sharon said to me, “I have never felt that much energy in this space before. If we weren’t Mennonite, we would have all been speaking in tongues.” Actually, some Mennonites do speak in tongues but we get Sharon’s point. Through song and skit and and storytelling and vegan taco harvest feast, we celebrated the way God and God’s people have been our refuge and strength across five decades.
Our “History Moments” this past year also took us back into our own wilderness times. We remembered the first gatherings in cramped San Francisco apartments with one bare bulb and almost no resources. A handful of young adults—many of them pushed to the margins in society and in the wider church—built something small, fragile, and full of God’s presence. We remembered the wilderness years of the early 2000s, when conflict and loss thinned our numbers and shook our confidence. We remembered the wilderness of COVID—when we reinvented our common life almost overnight, grieved beloved members leaving, and emerged as a changed community. Through all of it, we learned the same truth sung at Sukkot: God is our refuge and strength.
And now, as we near the close of this anniversary year—five hundred years of Anabaptism and fifty years of this particular beloved community—Psalm 46 offers us a way to look toward our future. It invites us to ask: Who are we now? And how might who we are allow us to step faithfully and courageously into our 51st year and beyond?
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy habitation of the Most High.
God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;
God will help it when the morning dawns.
The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter;
God’s voice resounds, the earth melts.
The Eternal One is with us;
the God of Jacob, Leah and Rachel is our refuge. Selah
-Psalm 46:4-7
Joanna:
The nations are indeed in an uproar, mostly due to the actions of this nation since the inauguration in January and also long before that. But we know through it all and through history, God is with us and has been our refuge.
On Tuesday, January 21st, the day following the inauguration, a spirited crew of fifteen or so folks showed up at UN/Civic Center Plaza in San Francisco to commemorate the courageous beginning of the Anabaptist movement 500 years earlier to the day. Alongside our commemoration we also recommitted ourselves to bold Christian witness in this time and place. We shared communion, prayed and sang together.
Jim Lichti (whose idea it was to gather on that day) told the story of the first baptisms in the home of Anna Manz. (How meaningful that we have also celebrated two baptisms this year!) The baptisms in 1525 broke a thousand year tradition of church-state fusion. Jim encouraged us to build on the conviction of these visionaries, who themselves were inspired by the stories of scripture that prophetically challenged empires.
In January we did not know what we would face, but wow, we have shown up in a way that I’m sure makes our ancestors proud!
We have shown up with courage and clarity that our faith calls us to public witness.
We have shown up with camaraderie and care, recognizing we need to be in the streets as a community but that not everyone is called to witness in that way.
We have shown up with a capacity and commitment that far surpasses our size.
A few examples from this year:
In March we held a worship service on a busy street corner declaring that God’s Love Knows No Borders and that God Loves Immigrants and that God Loves Palestine. We carried banners with those declarations and others at No Kings marches in June and October. In San Francisco we marched with Church of the Sojourners, while also showing up in Oakland and Berkeley, including for the Hands Off march in April. We identified ourselves as Mennonites and Christians, eliciting conversation and connections.
Multiple times this year members of our congregation stood on the steps of City Hall, alongside Faith in Action partners, demanding that no more children live on the streets in San Francisco. The powerful leadership of asylum seeking parents in this effort forced the city to provide funding and housing that would not have happened otherwise.
In the spring a delegation from FMCSF spent a transformative weekend at Oak Flat in Arizona, walking, and dancing and standing in solidarity with Apache Stronghold as they protect their sacred land.
In June two FMCSF congregants – Jennifer and Clara – were arrested in DC along with many others at the Interfaith Action for Palestine. Their nonviolent direct action blocked the cafeterias at the Senate and Congressional buildings with the message “Congress doesn’t eat til Gaza eats.” In this experience they felt strong and held by the group. They sang during the whole bus ride in their handcuffs, and Clara is ready for her next arrest!
In August we were shocked to have one of our young adults, Ismael, abducted by ICE, and did everything in our power to get him home. By the grace and power of God and our steadfastness, he was released after three days. His story has been an inspiration and encouragement to many in the Bay Area and across the country.
October brought the Mennonite Action Courage Tour to San Francisco, where we participated along with three other congregations – Sojourners, Redeemer, and Grace Fellowship. And it couldn’t have been better timed, given the threat of the federal invasion that arose later that month.
In response we were out in the streets blocking ICE at Coast Guard Island alongside faith communities mobilized by the Interfaith Movement for Human Integrity, and joining the emergency march in San Francisco later that same day.
Following that intense day, Outreach Committee put out an email to the congregation with resources for community solidarity and support. In closing I want to share a few words from that email:
“For the past year, our congregation has been connecting to our denomination’s 500-year history –– particularly to its bold Anabaptist origins –– and how that identity is calling us to powerful public witness in the current historical moment.
Not everyone is called to the same kind of public witness, and some of us are more vulnerable than others to violence. As a community we want to simultaneously protect those who are vulnerable, and for those who are able, take bold action together for justice.
To be sure, current events can arouse fears and anxieties that overwhelm, that stimulate a sense of powerlessness and isolation. It is in keeping with our tradition to challenge such a response, to come together, to stand firm. And so we are inviting the congregation to hold fast to our connection, remembering that we are not acting alone.”
Come, behold the works of the Eternal One;
what devastation God has imposed on the earth —
bringing wars to an end in every corner of the world,
breaking the bow and shattering the spear,
burning shields with fire.
‘Still this violence, and know that I am God!
I am exalted among the nations,
I am exalted in the earth.’
– Psalm 46:8-10
Pat:
So, have I mentioned that Jim Lichti and I are taking a class through AMBS entitled Challenging Christian Nationalism?! I am learning so much. But that’s a whole other sermon. What I want to share today is the surprise gift of this course: a deep realization of just how well prepared our scrappy little congregation is to meet these tumultuous times, to thrive, and to actively participate in building a new world within the shell of the old.
Conversation after conversation with my classmates has shown me that FMCSF has ways of being, and doing, that seem routine to me yet impress them as new and interesting, even as “best practices” for challenging things like Christian Nationalism, not to mention an abundance of other “isms” that need healing and transformation today.
For example, when asked, What would it look like for pastors and leaders to create more spaces to talk about the boundaries of our political loyalties?—I immediately thought of our Back to the Basics series. I told my classmates how this intentionally curated worship-and-education form has created a rich container for learning together over the years. I named just a few topics—Sexuality & the Sacred; Power & Faith; Speaking
the Truth in Love; and Welcoming the Guest: Emotions & the Life of Faith. This ritual feels routine to us now, part of our congregational DNA, but to my classmates it is novel. They immediately saw how this annually practiced form would imbue a congregation with valuable skills and deep wisdom for our times.
Another week I found myself talking with a classmate about teaching our children well. Some classmates are just now confronting Sunday School curricula “steeped in deeply problematic theology.” I kept thinking of our faithful Sunday School teachers and Children’s Faith Formation Committee, who have long tweaked or written their own curricula to offer our children a theology of inclusion and a deep sense of their inherent goodness. I also thought of the intergenerational education hour series our Climate Action Committee created last year—an exploration of soil as a relative in the Web of
Life. If changing consciousness is part of co-creating the new Kindom on Earth, FMCSF has long been laying this groundwork with our beloved children.
I could go on and on. The ways we practice—faithfully, if imperfectly—vulnerability, honesty, careful listening, and skillful reflecting. These are excellent practices for engaging a polarized world. Or the ways we embed affirmation and healthy boundaries, which help us resist burnout. Or the ways we follow the Spirit, paying attention to where interest and creative energy are moving, and supporting one another in action. This is a practice of resurrection.
At the heart of all this is what I would call a robust communal imagination. This is a sacred gift we can (and already do) offer the world, and one I don’t want us to take for granted.
If God is truly working in our tumultuous world as the psalmist says—bringing wars to an end by breaking the bow and shattering the spear (and I believe God is!)—then we are poised to be the hands and feet of Jesus in new and exciting ways as we participate in the sacred work of liberation.
Friends, we have been faithful for so many years. We are ready to model. We are ready to teach. We are ready to lead. We are ready.
The God of heavenly forces is with us;
the God of Jacob, Leah and Rachel is our refuge. Selah
-Psalm 46:11
Sheri:
As we look toward our future, these are the gifts we carry into a world that promises to be more tumultuous than our past. The earth is changing — warming, unraveling, overshooting ecological boundaries. Nations are in uproar; empires that once seemed immovable are tottering. The long dominance of the United States is waning, and the civic institutions that once held our public life together are straining at the seams. Political violence and polarization are rising; economic precarity grows. And: God is our refuge and strength.
Within our own community, change is also coming. Pat and I are in our 60s, and in the coming years we will face our first major staff transitions in more than a quarter century. Our congregation is also experiencing a demographic shift. For the first time in our history, we have a significant cohort of people in their 60s and 70s — a group whose treasure, time, and talents support this church in key ways. In the next decade, they will grow into their 70s and 80s, bringing new needs, new wisdom, and new forms of participation. These changes will reshape our life together: God is our refuge and strength.
And, the world is showing up to shape us more profoundly than ever. Since 2020, we have become a more global Mennonite community, welcoming families from Anabaptist congregations in Tanzania, Uganda, and Colombia. Living in a region more hospitable to immigrants has allowed us to embody the global face of Anabaptism in ways we could not have imagined 50 – or even 10 – years ago. The Spirit is inviting us to grow in diversity, cultural humility, and the deep unity of being one body in Christ. And through it all: God is our refuge and strength.
So as we step into our 51st year, we do so the way our Jewish ancestors in faith stepped into their sukkahs — not pretending we are invincible, but choosing trust in the midst of vulnerability. We do so the way our Anabaptist ancestors boldly brought a new way of following Jesus into being 500 years ago. We do so knowing that mountains will shake and waters will roar, but also knowing that the God who carried our beloved community through the past five decades — through fragile beginnings, conflict, rebirth, pandemics — will carry us still. The Holy One who sang us into being is already singing us into our future. Therefore, we will not fear. God is our refuge and strength. And with that promise, we go — together — into whatever comes next.
