Mennonite Voluntary Service ignites a movement of purpose and peace.
Alex Mace, program director of Mission Network’s Mennonite Voluntary Service (MVS), is not just overseeing a program—he’s stewarding a movement. MVS, a year-long service initiative for young adults aged 21 to 25, isn’t a typical mid- or post-college detour. It’s a radical invitation to step off the conveyor belt of consumerism and into a life of service, community and simplicity.
Live differently
Imagine a recent college grad, diploma in hand, bombarded with the usual script—land a high-paying job, climb the ladder, secure your future. MVS flips that narrative on its head.
“When you graduate, the world tells you to chase success,” Mace says. “MVS says, ‘No, come live differently.’ It’s a rebellion against materialism, a chance to ask, ‘What’s really worth pursuing?’”
The program’s structure is simple. Participants commit to a year of service with local nonprofits—immigration aid, restorative justice projects, home repairs, etc. They live together in small units, usually five people, in houses scattered across U.S. cities and towns. A local MVS leader stewards them into their new roles, introduces them to the local community and mentors them during their service. Together, members of the unit cook, clean, and navigate the messiness of communal life, all while tethered to a local church that becomes their anchor. It’s not glamorous—stipends are small, luxuries are few—but that’s the point.
Three pillars
MVS rests on three core tenets: service, community life, and simple living. Service isn’t just clocking hours; it’s a front-row seat to the world’s aches — poverty, injustice, isolation — and a chance to do something about it. “They’re face-to-face with issues they might’ve never considered,” Mace explains. “And they must decide to dig in or step back. Most dig in.”
Community life is where the rubber meets the road. Imagine moving into a house with strangers, negotiating shower schedules, and figuring out who’s cooking dinner—all while learning about your new housemates.
“It’s chaotic, beautiful chaos,” he laughs. “You learn to make decisions together, to prioritize the group over yourself.”
Then there’s simple living—a deliberate rejection of excess. No big paychecks or shopping sprees here. Participants get by on modest stipends, leaning into the local community for entertainment. Public libraries, parks, thrifting and community events give the units a pulse on the neighborhood around them, without a price tag attached. “It’s countercultural,” Mace says. “We’re asking them to live with less, to find joy in what’s already there.”
A ripple
The impact of MVS doesn’t stop at the participants. It’s like a stone tossed into a pond, rippling out to touch nonprofits, churches, and communities.
For nonprofit partners, participants are a lifeline. They tackle grunt work—sorting storage rooms, filing paperwork—freeing staff to focus on bigger goals. But they’re more than extra hands. “They become advocates,” Mace notes. “They leave understanding the issues—immigration, justice, housing—and carry that passion forward.”
Local congregations get a jolt of youthful energy. In an era where churches often lament the absence of 20-somethings, MVS participants show up eager to engage. Congregants offer wisdom, homecooked meals, and a sense of home. MVSers are invited to join in how they wish – through worship, praise bands, preaching, and even serving on leadership boards.
The broader community feels the ripple, too. Participants live out a faith-rooted witness of peace and justice, subtle yet profound. “It’s not loud or pushy,” Mace clarifies. “It’s presence—serving without strings, showing there’s another way to be in the world.”
About Alex
Mace didn’t stumble into this role by accident. He landed at Mennonite Mission Network needing a job but also craving purpose. “I wanted to be part of something that cared about what I care about,” he admits. Starting in the training and resources department, he helped craft tools to equip the church for mission—a role that honed his love for transformation. When the MVS directorship opened, he saw a chance to marry that passion with action.
“I didn’t grow up Mennonite,” he confesses, grinning. “I had to learn this peace-and-justice lens. But it’s reshaped me—faith isn’t just belief; it’s doing.”
Now, as director, his favorite moments are the stories—participants recounting breakthroughs at their placements, four of them even considering a second year. “That’s when I know it’s working,” he says.
A hopeful horizon
MVS has seen its share of storms—dwindling numbers, shifting cultural tides. Yet Alex is optimistic. “Applications are up,” he says.
“Young people are questioning the grind, the nihilism. They want meaning. MVS gives them that—an off-ramp from the world’s script.”
It’s not easy. The program demands confronting hard realities, living lean, doing unglamorous work. But that’s where the magic happens. “They come out transformed,” Alex muses. “They’ve said ‘no’ to consumerism and ‘yes’ to something bigger—community, service, faith.”
MVS isn’t just a program; it’s a proving ground for a different kind of life—one where rebellion meets redemption.
