New Voices: By and about young adults

When we pick up a Mennonite publication or see a Mennonite in print, the voices we often hear from are among the following: Mennonite pastors, seminarians, service project workers, Mennonite parachurch employees, denominational leaders and Mennonite church members. These voices are strong and prominent and the ones relied upon to direct the denomination as it finds its way in our society.

I can no longer find myself among this list, and as I continue to share my experiences with the Mennonite community, I’ve wondered to what extent my role will continue among you. With much introspection, I believe my story even until now has a purpose greater than just a life lesson for me. I knew I was called to serve you all, and I didn’t know how.

Since leaving the Mennonite church, I’ve experienced a depth of love and understanding from a handful of people within the church as well as sustained invitations to continue to serve. This alone has surprised and humbled me. Yet I continue finding myself retreating into a default position of margins and shadows. The grief would not leave my side, and as I prepared to write to you all, God opened my heart to the realization that I may not be the only one.

I’m confident some of you reading this right now may find yourselves in the margins with me. Maybe you’ve left the Mennonite world years or decades ago but still receive this magazine because somehow its focus, its work, its stories are still relevant to you, even if this is the only way you engage Mennonites.

Maybe you call yourself an Anabaptist but for some reason can no longer sit in the pews of a Mennonite church. Maybe a scholarship gave you a Mennonite education, but your last encounter with Mennonites was graduation day. Maybe the short-term warm embrace and sturdy hands of Mennonite service built your life, but you no longer share their “compañerismo.” Maybe you live and work arm in arm with Mennonites in cities like North Newton, Goshen and Harrisonburg, believing in the work you’re all doing, but outside the 40-hour work week you’re estranged from the community. Maybe you grew up within a Mennonite family but with age have slowly slipped away from the label.

And finally, maybe you’ve embodied the love of the Anabaptist story and/or theological focus but cannot relate to the social, cultural and/or political interpretation expressed within the church.

I’m a firm believer that these voices found in the margins may have a profound gift of greater Mennonite awareness and precise vision for the future.

Is this the time that they be heard? Would Mennonites of privilege and power as a group make a concrete, unified effort to listen deeply to these voices? What if we all stopped to hear their stories? What would they say? Are we afraid as a collective group to hear them speak, afraid they may see clearly that we’ve chosen to hide away? Would they be as gracious to us as we’d need for them to be? Could they paint a picture that is similar to what we’ve tried painting for ourselves? Could they show us a new way of being church?

My brothers and sisters that lie in the margins, you matter, and your journey is of value to me and many others. There are many of us that hold a deep sorrow and/or longing. I invite you to step out of the shadows and join the hundreds like you. It’s time for our voices to be heard and be present to what we share. Into what form our voices will shape, I do not know yet, but I’m calling you to reach out.

Unified, we can breathe renewed life within ourselves, among our local communities that see within us the Mennonite fingerprint and upon the church and beyond as the waves of our sharing impact all. It is time, time to bring these stories to the light and for your words to be known. I look forward to receiving email messages from you and seeing where God, our Unifying Source, takes us. Thank you.

Janet Trevino-Elizarraraz lives in San Antonio, Texas. She can be reached at
alpasofirme@gmail.com.