The Society of Brothers

It was a big night at Gorley's Lake Hotel. All four bars were going full blast, and some 500 revelers milled happily about the ivy-grown Allegheny Mountain resort near Uniontown, Pa. Some of them went in for a moonlight dip from the concrete bathing pavilion, and it was 4 a.m. before things quieted down; the management even set up a few drinks on the house all around--a flagrant violation of Pennsylvania liquor laws. But the 34-year-old hotel would not be needing its liquor license any more. It had been sold --lake, bars and all--to an obscure religious sect called the Society of Brothers.

Next day its new owners arrived in a yellow school bus--48 travel-worn men, women and children. Within seconds the children had their shoes off and were zipping around the lake, roughhousing, swimming, jumping into rowboats. Their plainly dressed parents walked quietly about their new home. "Oh, my! It's too good for us," said bespectacled Alec Dodd of Toledo, Ohio. In the Tropical Room, their eyes lit up when they saw the bar. "Look at these low sinks!" exclaimed Balthazar Trumpi of Glarus, Switzerland. "This is perfect for the nursery. In the sinks the children can play at washing dishes, and join in the community activity." Soon the ballroom had been converted to a schoolroom, the basement bar into a workshop. Within the next week 62 more Brothers had arrived and settled into their new communal home.

"What Shall We Do?" The Society of Brothers was born in the dark night of the soul that settled upon Germany at the end of World War I. At Whitsunday in 1919, Eberhard Arnold, a cheerful, passionate man whose spiritual seeking had led him out of the. Reformed Church and into the Anabaptist way of thinking, addressed the German Student Christian Movement in Marburg in words so moving that his apartment in Berlin soon became an open house for young world-changers.

"Often as many as 80 or 100 came," Arnold's wife wrote later. The question burning in us all was, 'What shall we do?' The discussion centered around the Sermon on the Mount. Everyone knew that life had to be changed. There had to be action at last! No more words!"

The action Arnold took was to establish a pacifist family-centered community, as accessible to the world as possible, but living like ist century Christians, with all property held in common, and unanimity in all decisions. In 1920 Arnold launched the first Brothers community at Sannerz, near Frankfurt-am-Main.

The coming of Hitler made it impossible for the community to continue in Germany. In 1936, a year after Eberhard Arnold died, the 150-odd members of the Sannerz group (which by now included Swiss, Swedes and British, as well as Germans) found refuge on a farm in Wiltshire, England. World War II set most of them on the move again, when the community was boycotted because of its pacifist convictions and all those of German origin were threatened by internment. On a couple of months' notice, they set out for Paraguay--the only place they could find that put no conditions on their coming.

In the jungle and wild scrub country of Primavera, Paraguay, these professional and office workers from the big cities of Europe struggled against climate, sickness, isolation and uncleared land. They learned to practice forbearance with one another, but not to swallow the personal resentments that were bound to arise: they made a rule that any member who is angry at another must quietly have it out with him before he goes to bed that night. They learned to find emotional outlets with festivals conducted with singing, dancing and theatricals, games and wine. They learned how to select the right man for the right job by group consensus, and to accept the group decision as to what duties or what equipment would be assigned to each.

Today the Primavera community has grown to some 700 members through new births and newcomers, many drawn from the U.S. They live in three villages, successfully carry on cattle ranching, lumbering, agriculture and woodworking crafts. They maintain a hospital with 24 beds and treat 10,000 Paraguayans a year.

But the Brothers felt that the isolation of Paraguay was not in keeping with Christ's injunction to let one's light shine before men. In 1953 they sent a group to settle at Rifton, N.Y. in the Catskill foothills. It has prospered, expects this year to make and sell $124,000 worth of children's toys.

A Part. The group that moved into Gorley's Lake Hotel was sent from Paraguay and other centers two years ago, to set up a farming community in North Dakota. "It was very difficult," says bearded Eberhard Arnold, son of the society's founder. "All summer long we had to work so hard we couldn't talk to any of our visitors, and all winter we were snowed in, so that no visitors could come."

The 80-room hotel, about 90 minutes drive from Pittsburgh, seemed an ideal solution. The society paid $150,000 for it, plans to use part of the building to set up a toy factory like the one at Rifton. "Here we will have room to work and worship, and educate the children," says Arnold. "We will be able to go out among people, and also to welcome those who are interested in our way of living according to Christ's teachings and example. We want to be a part of people, not apart from them."

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