Mennonite Weekly Review

Minnesota megachurch pastor Greg Boyd told a group of Mennonite Church USA leaders this spring to “cherish your treasure.” Boyd, the author of Myth of a Christian Nation, has been mingling among Anabaptists and our theology.

Stephen Kriss, of Philadelphia, is director of communication and leadership cultivation for Franconia Mennonite Conference of Mennonite Church USA.

His message rings happily in many of our ears. Many of us are as excited as junior high kids about Boyd’s kind words and crush on Mennoniteness. We know he’s a Mennonite wannabe.

The challenge for us is to hear Boyd the whole way through — and to hear the words of the Apostle Paul in response to cherishing our treasure.

Paul writes to the church at Corinth that we have this treasure in clay jars. Clay jars are fragile (readily breakable) and long lasting (centuries-old shards often show up in archaelogical digs).

Boyd knows that among us there is a streaming away from the tradition of nonviolence. He likely also knows there’s been a sort of stranglehold on this same peace tradition at the same time.

Rob Bell, a Midwestern megachurch pastor in his own right, suggests in his book Velvet Elvis that art isn’t static. It never has a “totally done” form. His metaphoric title suggests that the perfectly painted portrait of the King that he owns on velvet, though quite brilliant, is not the end all and be all manifestation of artistry.

One person’s treasured velvet Elvis painting is another’s castoff destined for the Mennonite Central Committee thrift store. The treasure we cherish is manifested differently in different locations, times and places. It’s not static and singular.

Boyd suggests that Mennonites need to cast off that which encumbers extending the reign of God while cherishing our treasure. Some believe the Mennonite “peace position” is an encumbrance. Others have ditched unaccompanied hymns. They’re relic practices that have become velvet Elvis paintings that embarrass us these days. We keep them in the basement or behind a couch somewhere or have kicked them to the curb.

I think what Boyd means is that we have a heritage and a way of navigating and following Jesus in the world that is incredibly appropriate and hopeful for global and local citizens.

However, many of us parade out our velvet Elvis paintings when new persons engage with us. We’re anxious to include them in activities that harken back to the good old days, and we’re hopeful that they’ll fill seats on our committees, help out with bake sales, round out the quilting circle.