These mornings the air is cooler, the outdoor fragrances distinctly autumnal. In two weeks, the harvest moon will shine, and that same weekend we’ll celebrate our youngest daughter’s 6th birthday. An arcane but notable realization hits me: our daughter has spent half her life inside the Mennonite church and half outside.
Three years have passed—long enough for the dust to settle and to reflect on what was most beautiful and formative about being Mennonite. As I look back, several key features stand out. Here are five of them, in no particular order.
The singing: While I still sing in groups outside the Mennonite church, the four-part harmonies of Mennonite hymns were on another level. The theology of the hymns, also, was stately and transformative, especially when we sang from the Mennonite Hymnal, a hymnal that, in my view, remains unparalleled. The sheer number of songs my people know is astounding. I was reminded of this at a recent church gathering when “Pass Me Not, Oh Gentle Saviour” was suggested, only to find out no one had heard of it. Mennonite music, with its complex yet accessible harmonies, is a nourishing spiritual practice that fosters deep social cohesion. I miss it.
Immersion in Scripture: Having taught at a Mennonite school and later watching my two oldest daughters attend one, I have witnessed the unique Mennonite approach to Bible memorization. At this Christian version of a yeshiva, students as young as seven memorize entire chapters of the New Testament. They know that Jeremiah comes after Isaiah and that Psalm 119 is the lengthy psalm. Emerging from the Mennonite educational system, you internalize this kind of knowledge automatically.
Students gain a solid foundation of biblical literacy that equips them to grapple with messier theological questions later in life, should they choose to do so.
Community rhythms and rituals: As parents of four daughters, my wife and I feel deep loss that our daughters will miss out on the simple joys within the Mennonite community—like going to Sunday school for the first time or noticing when a peer moves to the young adults’ section in church. These rituals and transitions may be small, but they are rare in today’s complex and fragmented world. They can be a source of security and comfort, especially for children.
The Mennonite Game: Let’s face it: there is also comfort in name-dropping relatives (or relatives of relatives) when meeting other Mennonites in unfamiliar settings, like at Bible school or in a foreign country. You do not stay strangers long when you meet someone who went to school with your first cousin or read a book written by your uncle.
Non-Partisanship: This one is weaker since Mennonites, especially those with authority and leadership, often lean politically right despite their official stance. Nonetheless, I value the stated position of separating church and government, and the general cynicism about partisan politics. It’s something I hope to carry with me for life.
I miss these aspects, and I count my life all the richer for having been shaped by them. In my next post, I’ll explore the five best things I’ve experienced since leaving the traditional Mennonite community.