Mennonite Farewell

A special train of ten day coaches pulled into Manhattan's Pennsylvania Station one afternoon last week. Out of it trooped 400 men, women and children. The women wore plain, straight dresses with little lace caps perched on the backs of their heads. The men wore high tightly-buttoned jackets without lapels, high starched collars mostly without cravats. Many of them peering about in timid bewilderment through gold-rimmed spectacles, the 400 left the station and boarded buses.

Few minutes later, early diners in an "Automat" restaurant at Fifth Avenue and 45th Street looked up to see the lace-capped women and buttoned-upmen march in and take seats at tables in a roped-off section. Then, instead of lining up to place their nickels and dimes in slots and carry away their food, the 400 people arose, cleared their throats, began singing: "I was sinking deep in sin, far from the peaceful shore. . . ."

Plain, pious folk, these were Mennonites from Lancaster County, Pa., where reside 10,000 of the 50,000 U. S. followers of 16th Century Menno Simons. They disown war, bar infant baptism, wear "plain dress." They have sent missionaries to India and South America, but only lately did the first Mennonites go to Africa. Last week a second party was about to leave. To see off Sister Elizabeth Stauffer and Brother John H. Moseman and wife, to dine plainly with them in the Automat, to pray and to sing, 400 Mennonite friends and followers had journeyed to New York.

"Who is blind, brothers and sisters?" cried a voice above the clatter of trays and dishes. "Who is blind but thy servant?" exhorted tall Brother Ira Landis. "Who is blind to the natural things that these human hands reach out for? Jesus is blind to them. Jesus is blind to worldly things, to the things these hands reach out for. Jesus is blind to Broadway!"

From 400 throats rose a fervent "Amen, brother!" Ignoring stares and titters, they sang more hymns, held services for two hours, listened to sermons by Brothers Christ Martin, D. Stoner Krady, Jacob Miller and Merle Eshleman. After a prayer by Brother Seth Ebersol the Mennonites sang "It Is Well Worth My While."

"Apple cobbler is a nickel," announced Brother John Moseman Jr. "And sandwiches are two nickels up." The Mennonites got out their nickels, fell to eating. Later they once more boarded buses, which carried them down to the S. S, Deutschland on which their missionaries were about to sail.

In the tourist class saloon Mennonite prayers continued. When a brother said, "We will now sing, as they go forth to the glory of God, the song 'Africa,' " they lifted their voices (to the tune "Juanita"):

Africa, dark Africa,

We have heard our Master's call.

Fear not! Oh, despair not!

Jesus died for all.

A woman who had been an African missionary sang "Jesus, Lover of My Soul" in a Swahili dialect. The three departing missionaries made speeches. Brother Moseman caused a little ripple of pious laughter when he said: "Wouldn't it be wonderful if the Lord called upon you all not to leave this ship and to come with us!" The Mennonites shook hands and kissed all around. Singing "God Be With You Till We Meet Again," they marched off the Deutschland. Two hours later the three missionaries were sailing off to preach God's word to black men and the 400 pious folk in their "plain dress" were in their ten railroad coaches, rolling back through the night to their farms in Lancaster County.

At the lonely island of Tristan da Cunha, 2,000 mi. west of the Cape of Good Hope, the S.S. Atlantis put ashore last week Rev. Harold Wilde, 40, Anglican minister, and twelve tons of supplies. He will remain on the island for at least three years, caring for the souls of its 66 inhabitants who have had no minister for two years.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.