Meek and Mild (27 page)

“The noise stopped,” Clara said. “I should have heard him coming past.”

He looked at her white face. “He won’t hurt you.”

She said nothing, not convinced.

Realization struck. “The bishop,” Andrew said.

“What about the bishop?” Clara said.

“If Yonnie turned off to go south to the bishop’s house, you wouldn’t have seen or heard him go past.”

Clara groaned.

“I’m not worried,” Andrew said.

“Maybe you should be.”

“Each day has enough worries of its own,” Andrew said.

“What will he say?”

Andrew shrugged. “The Model T, your visit to Fannie, my temper. Who knows?”

“He could hurt you.”

Andrew shook his head. “I could tell my side of things, and Yonnie would not look innocent, either.”

“No!” Clara said. “That would just stir up trouble for everyone.”

“It won’t matter. Despite what Yonnie thinks, Bishop Yoder is not as powerful as he once was. Someone will step forward to say the congregation must vote.”

“But who? Who would stand up to the bishop?”

Andrew was unsure. “He’s getting old to be an active bishop.”

“Sixty-nine is not ancient.”

“He’s been leading a long time. We’re due for a change.”

“You can’t know that.”

Andrew looked again through the silent trees. “Mose Beachy will be our greatest hope.”

This was not the first time Yonnie visited the bishop’s house. Even though the congregation worshipped in meetinghouses rather than homes, every household in the district found ample reason to extend hospitality to other families. And Yonnie was a Yoder, just like the bishop. Once a year, everyone descended from the Yoders who first came to Somerset County a hundred years ago gathered for an afternoon frolic. Yonnie knew the farm from a lifetime of reunions.

This was the first time Yonnie had come with a purpose as serious as the one on his mind now. Three days of patient waiting for the appointed time had not deterred him. In fact, the time had nailed in his determination. Today Bishop Yoder would know exactly what Andrew Raber was up to. And Dale. And Clara.

Maybe not Clara. And maybe not Dale, at least not until Yonnie found other work.

But nothing held him back from telling the bishop that Andrew had an automobile.

He arranged his stance on the Yoder front step and knocked firmly.

Caroline Yoder answered the door with a dish towel hanging from one shoulder. “Hello, Yonnie. What brings you out here?”

“On Sunday I made an appointment with the bishop for today,” Yonnie said.

“Oh, I’m sorry you’ve come all this way for nothing,” Caroline said. “My husband was called away a few minutes ago. He’s not anywhere on the farm.”

“But I made an appointment.”

She shrugged. “Appointment or not, he’s still gone. Emergencies happen.”

“When will he return?”

“I don’t have the mind of God, Yonnie.”

“Perhaps I should wait.”

She shook her head. “I have a feeling it would be a long wait. I’m sure you have other things to do. The bishop will be happy to speak to you. Please come by again another time.”

Back in his buggy, Yonnie considered his options. He was finished for the day at the dairy. Dale had sent Reuben on the afternoon route, which happened more and more often. Dale seemed to prefer keeping Yonnie where he could see him.

Yonnie picked up the reins. Perhaps God had given him this unscheduled afternoon for a purpose. Perhaps this would be the day his inquiries about other employment would bring a favorable answer.

If they did not, Yonnie would double the time he spent praying for discernment and trust. If he gave Dale his notice, surely God would provide.

C
lara wondered if anyone would notice if she did not attend worship. It would be just once. From time to time, everyone had a reason to be absent—illness in the house, a cow birthing on a Sunday morning, a journey to visit relatives in another district. Clara had none of those reasons, though. She could hardly tell Rhoda and Hiram that she was staying home because she could not bear the thought of another sermon by the Yoder ministers.

She hadn’t seen Fannie and Sadie in over a month, and she hadn’t visited Martha in almost two months. By now everyone in the Maryland church must know her aunt was with child.

And Clara stayed home, on the farm, waiting for whatever was going to happen.

No more
, she thought. She only needed to plan more carefully—walk the miles to Fannie’s farm early in the day, before the heat bore down, or arrange with her father to have a horse and cart. He would not turn her down if she asked ahead of time.

A congregational meeting was scheduled to follow the worship service. Clara was of a mixed mind whether she wanted to be present.

But Andrew. If she excused herself from church on a pretense, she wouldn’t see Andrew. Clara braced herself, already planning to mentally work on a story for Sadie during the sermons, and rode with her family to church.

Noah Yoder preached, and Clara spent the time visualizing the words on the pages of the family Bible about Jesus healing Jairus’s daughter and then trying out phrases and cadence in the retelling of it.

When Mose Beachy stood to give the second sermon, though, Clara’s wordplay tumbled out of her mind. For weeks she had prayed it would be God’s will for Mose to preach.

The text God laid on his heart, Mose said, was Romans 12:18. “If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.”

Mose recited the verse twice, looking with deliberation around the congregation.

“This verse falls naturally into three parts, which we must fully consider with our hearts and minds,” Mose said. “First, ‘if it be possible.’ Second, ‘as much as lieth in you.’ And third, ‘live peaceably with all men.’ ”

Clara gave her rapt attention. Mose preached not only with his words, but also his demeanor. When he gazed at the congregation, he had none of the sternness of the Yoders. He did not brace his stance to exude authority but rather leaned over his Bible as if to bind his heart to those of his listeners. Clara wished she could write down everything he said.

Fifty minutes later, he concluded. “I ask you to consider three questions. If you answer them well, you will know you have this portion of God’s Word in your heart. Is it possible for you to live in such a way to bring peace? In what ways does peace depend on you? And finally, who is the
all
with whom God wants you to live in peace?”

Andrew was right. If the lot to become bishop fell to Mose Beachy, things would change. Clara resolved to pray every day that this would be God’s will.

Yonnie scowled, unsure what to make of Mose Beachy’s sermon.

Who could disagree with a sermon about peace? But surely there was much room for misinterpretation. The bishop wanted unity of mind, and this would bring peace to the congregation. Mose spoke of a different peace. He made no mention of discipline or obedience to the church’s teaching.

Yonnie stood for the brief break between the end of the worship service and the beginning of the congregational meeting. Women took children outside to let them run for a few minutes. Men clustered in conversation or rearranged furniture for the meeting. Yonnie stood still as Andrew approached, forming in his mind what he might say if Andrew asked forgiveness for his actions on the day he came to the dairy and embarrassed Yonnie. Familiar proverbs would serve well.
Let your life story be for God’s glory
. Or,
A heart at peace gives life to the body
.

But Andrew did not stop.

He did not even catch Yonnie’s eye.

Instead, he walked past as if he were shunning Yonnie and joined John Stutzman and several other men only a few feet away.

A shaft of heat burned up through Yonnie’s torso and lodged in his throat. Andrew’s behavior only proved the necessity of the decision Yonnie had made. Regret billowed. He should never have let another ten days pass before trying again to see the bishop privately.

Mose called the congregational meeting to order. Beside him at the front of the meetinghouse sat Joseph Yoder.

“We are meeting today,” Mose said, “at the request of some of our members to consider a clarified understanding of recent teaching in our church. Specifically, members have raised questions about the
meidung
that the bishop called for a few weeks ago.”

Joseph Yoder cleared his throat and glanced at his father’s stiff pose. “May I remind everyone that the
meidung
is not new. My father merely asks us to be obedient to the unanimous congregational vote taken many years ago.”

Caleb Schrock stood up. “I believe our brother refers to the vote taken in 1895, when many of us were children or just beginning our own families. The congregation has seen many changes since then.”

Does truth change?
Yonnie thought.
Does the Bible’s teaching change with the generation? No
.

Yonnie watched the bishop, waiting for him to speak. Slowly, Yonnie nodded in understanding. This was a time for the Yoder sons to show the strength of their own leadership. Bishop Yoder was training his sons for their calling.

Now John Stutzman stood. “Our brother Mose brought us the Word of God today. I believe God gave Mose words that we need to fully consider. What does it mean to live peaceably? Did not the church members who peacefully divided the Old Order from the Conservative Amish Mennonites live peaceably? There was no rancor in the separation of the two districts, and people were free to go where their consciences led them. The broken peace comes only with the insistence of
meidung
.”

John sat down.

Noah Yoder stood. “We must not misunderstand the
meidung
as an instrument of punishment. It is an instrument of reconciliation.”

That’s right
, Yonnie thought. He had heard this message from Bishop Yoder all his life.

The Yoders read from the Bible the command to separate from the heathen.

Mose had just finished preaching the Bible’s command to live peaceably with all.

Yonnie was looking for the line that would connect these two commands. How was it possible to obey both?