Next week, I’ll have the privilege of joining the Pacific Northwest Mennonite Conference Annual Meeting. As someone formed by the Mennonite tradition—while also finding a home among Lutherans, Episcopalians, emergents, evangelicals, urban practitioners, and ecumenical communities—these gatherings always feel a bit like returning to family.
This year I have the opportunity to contribute in at least a couple of ways.
First, I will be preaching from Luke 6:17–26, Luke’s version of the Beatitudes and Woes. It is a text that refuses to let us settle for easy religion. Jesus stands on a level place, among ordinary people and announces blessings upon the poor, the hungry, the grieving, and the excluded, while offering sobering warnings to the comfortable, the satisfied, and the celebrated.
The passage reads less like spiritual advice and more like a manifesto for an alternative social imagination.
In a world increasingly shaped by polarization, fear, nationalism, and the pursuit of status, Jesus invites us into another way. The Kin-dom of God is not built upon domination, scarcity, or self-protection. It is a community formed by mercy, generosity, solidarity, and love.
As I prepare this sermon, I find myself returning to a question that feels especially urgent today: How do communities remain unified without demanding uniformity?
Perhaps the answer lies in harmony rather than unison.
Anyone can sing a single note together. Harmony requires something more difficult and beautiful. It requires difference. Distinct voices. Deep listening. Mutual adjustment. The willingness to contribute one’s own note while making space for others. The church at its best has always been called to this kind of differentiated harmony.
The second opportunity I’ll share with my new friend and colleague Rob Kirby in a workshop titled, “Becoming With: How Do We Become Communities That Can Credibly Be With Gen Z?“
The title itself carries much of what we hope to explore.
For generations, churches have often asked, “How do we attract young people?” or “How do we get them to come back?” Those questions, while understandable, can unintentionally place communities in a posture of marketing or management.
A different question might be: How do we become people who can genuinely be with Gen Z?
This generation is coming of age amid climate anxiety, economic precarity, political fragmentation, digital saturation, and rapidly accelerating technological change. Many inherited institutions have lost credibility in their eyes—not because young adults lack spiritual hunger, but because they are often searching for communities that embody authenticity, justice, belonging, and hope.
The challenge before us is not simply how to reach Gen Z. The challenge is how we ourselves must be transformed.
- How do we become communities capable of deep listening?
- How do we become communities where questions are welcomed rather than feared?
- How do we become communities where difference does not threaten belonging?
- How do we become communities that practice the way of Jesus in ways that are visible, tangible, and trustworthy?
In many ways, these questions connect directly to Luke 6. The Beatitudes are not merely promises about a future heaven. They are an invitation into a new social reality here and now—a community where people learn to live together differently.
As I prepare for the Annual Meeting, I find myself grateful. Grateful for a tradition that continues to wrestle with peace, discipleship, justice, and community. Grateful for colleagues like Rob, Eric and others. Grateful for the opportunity to listen and learn alongside others.
And perhaps most of all, grateful that Jesus continues to invite us beyond certainty and control into the risky, hopeful work of becoming—with God, with one another, with all of creation, and with our neighbors.
May we have ears to hear.
May we find our note.
And may we learn to sing in harmony.
Peace, dwight
