The Life of Bishop Mack

Acknowledgements
 Acknowledgement again is given Isaac R. Horst for his translation of the letters, to my father for his collection and keeping of the typescript of Noah Mack on  Andrew's life and to Elizabeth Reiff Young for relation of her mother's memory that impacts the life and time of Bishop Andrew. 
 

In the communities of old Berks county such beings  as philosophers urged upon the whole were found. This is not so enviable a state unless we take comfort that it is for the advanced class. Andrew Mack already had a supply of inner grace. The evidential thing about purgation is that we can see it... When he has tried me I shall come forth as fine gold. The trials are what is called the  “crown”  for bishops, martyrs, saints and Mennonites.

Old Mennonites initiated their leaders with giant leaps of faith, choosing a name from a hat. This produced some contrarian and important flowerings even if they were informally vetted. John B. Bechtel (1807-1889), who ordained Andrew Mack, was chosen out of a hat at age forty one in the (Oberholtzer) crisis of 1848. They were all farmers, which goes without saying, meaning they were versatile, like artists, able to do multiple tasks, although speaking, thinking, writing were not supposed included. 

That these farmers chose their own to lead them is a faith itself and a handicap if  education is truly a prerequisite. New England  would invest the common with intellect, but in Pennsylvania it was thought ignorance if a German farmer should plow his field, build his house and be a bishop. Today it seems heroic. While Andrew Mack's son Noah,  apologizes for his father's 8th grade education, the public good of his speech on moral and spiritual matters was profound.
 

His father, Jesse Moyer Mack (1812-1892),  taught school "during the transition period from the old subscription school to the free school system" begun in Pennsylvania in the 1830s. The young Andrew taught singing classes, important among Mennonites who sing without accompaniment. He apprenticed himself to his uncle “as a carpenter in youth for several years” and followed that trade until he had a family, farm and ministry. He built an addition the whole length of his barn to enclose it from the west exposure with sliding doors and an addition to his house “almost equal in size to the original dwelling” (Noah Mack, 3).  

Working as a cabinet maker he also built sashes and doors in winter for construction  in summer and made his own furniture. Son Noah (1861-1948) recalls that in 1868, with five children, he needed a larger plot than the 28 acres he had, but that the new ground had most of its fields filled with large “ironstone boulders.” He built a “double gear cast iron windlass” with two high rear wheels as a stone puller to remove these boulders from his and neighbors’ fields. Without the intervention of the Mennonite lottery he might have lived a life like his youngest brother Henry, a life long chorister, writer and natural diplomat, but without a vocation.

That  intervention formed a philosopher and minister though there is a sense that this was his destiny, since his election was unanimous. Mennonites were well served by their leadership lottery from the beginning of Pennsylvania. When Lutheran and Reformed could not offer the sacraments and social services of graveyards and orphanages because they lacked ordained ministers, Mennonites had those things homegrown. The ministry itself was anything but boring. In his early years Mack was thrown into the caldron of the human condition with a vengeance, which much deepened his natural tendencies, for it is one thing to put up with the foibles of neighbors and quite another to  administer morals and dogma. Two of his deacons and elders went astray in those early years and there was unguarded dissension among church members. In a small group of a hundred this is an epidemic. His early letters are shocked and dismayed at this, all the more so because one of the strays is a family member. 

His extant letters to fellow minister Jacob B. Mensch address this unguarded dissension in the congregation (Letter 1, 1870)  between one Detweiler and Deis. Further, in 1871 Mack learned that one of his deacons, John L. Gehman, had taken “the maid who was with Ihst” in adultery some years before:  “you wouldn’t believe how much trouble this caused for me, and also for many others, especially the family. His wife thinks she can bear it with the help of God, yet for the rest of her life can have no more joy. (Letters, 2)  His letters are further dismayed in January 1876 when his brother in law, John Gabel, husband of his sister Elisabeth, “fell into an abominable sin and is discharged from the church. This took place while he was still in the state of widowhood” (Letters, 6). He is left to counsel family members, wives, mothers and fathers of the fallen adulterer and worse, “sins that cannot be named,” the “abominable sin.” 

Also, immediately after being elected bishop 6 Nov 1875, coincident with his brother in law’s expulsion, 11 Jan 1876, he is taken with serious illness. Son and Bishop Noah H. Mack (1861-1948) says he had a "nervous disposition" which Noah himself inherited. This disposition was shared also with both of Andrew Mack’s brothers, Peter and Henry. All may have disliked farming. When Henry came in from the fields at noon his daughter reports that sometimes he would only be able to take a glass of warm water for nourishment! Peter was afflicted with a lung disease and died at  age 38.  Henry lived to 91, but left farming. Andrew however had the further burden of ministry,  and to mediate sin and dissension in the midst of a year long illness which began immediately following his consecration to bishop. He describes this in his letters.

 

 Seasoning the wounded healer is old hat. Mennonites then held a notion of Gelassenheit, or surrender, which would argue that the bishop's troubles served the purpose of forging even more compassion and diplomacy in him than already existed. The communities of old Berks county urged such philosophic beings  upon the whole. As a philosophy of weakness German Gelassenheit these days might be something  one would be treated for.  It invoked the wounded healer, yieldedness, self-denial, readiness to suffer as a means of transcendence that led to perfection. Everybody of course wants to be perfect, just not through imperfection. As such he was a kind of physician in pain who offers appointments to anybody, but whose wounds produce healing not profit.  Do you have blood in your urine? Come in before nine or one. Those who attend the suffering of others with those who have been wounded themselves by sickness, depravity, conciliation, farming, travel, consumed much of his time. Given these conditions wounding might be required in a peace maker to mediate sins. Who wants to qualify?  These however are the people we trust, not that the  rewards are great in a service that demands the whole life, but not a lord’s loot. A humble man, as rare as a solo doc, is a high calling. 

He cites the apostle Paul to the effect of this weakness in his first letter, which however he does not send.  If rhetorical at the time, Mack’s weakness became actual when he is ordained bishop 6 Nov 1875 and incapacitated for over a year. He does not want worsen a situation from his own error so he says it “is sometimes made worse by writing.” He shows sensitivity and judgment, not only because he accepts his wife’s and Mensch’s counsel not to send it, but that he decides himself that the letter might endanger the situation.

As deeply disturbed as he was by the behavior of his elders, one his brother-in-law, in that same letter (2, l/11/71) he admonishes both Mensch and himself, “that we accomplish our office faithfully.” He is always concerned about others’ health and peace of mind. He speaks of the agony of  adulterer Gabel’s wife, “his wife thinks she can bear it with the help of God.” He almost always signs his letter including his wife’s name. He is solicitous of her health as much as he is of his own health and the health of others.

…I am not well. My sickness is in the kidneys and bladder. My nerves are also weakened. I am a little better. The doctor said if I will listen to him then I can grow well again. I am not to do any heavy physical work, not preach, not indulge in deep thoughts and not read. The latter is the most difficult for me.

The doctor says I shouldn’t preach for 2 months.

Not indulge deep thoughts nor  read! There is no defense against God. He is  a classicist in this trouble.  He reads original sources, takes insight from the text but not from criticism. “All his reading and meditations were in German,” but  “he was heard to say, ‘when scriptures are deep and difficult to interpret then commentators are cloudy and express themselves in many words and oft times have no clear interpretation and are undecided as to the real meaning of the Word’” (3). The many words, says son Noah,  “are not of much help to those [for] whom preaching was primarily by the power of the Holy Ghost and who depended on the Spirit for interpretation and for revelation…He made much use of his concordance in finding references in searching the scriptures for references bearing on the subject upon which he was meditating.” 

There is a kind of humility language spoken by the pious after gelasseheit is lost and its attitudes are reduced to rules, such language as is today spoken mostly by journalists and politicians. The trouble with these pious thoughts is that they can be faked so it may be impossible to tell which are real. Gelassenheit only comes harmless to the sincere in this life when suffering is handed out, not given by those here below as a tyranny, but from above. It is what we find out in life. 

He took this period of incapacity and enforced meditation as providential because it taught him patience (Letter 8, March 12, 1876) What does that mean, but putting another ahead of himself. He cites “whom the Lord loves he reproves,” the doctrine of a gardener who prunes his vineyard to improve productivity. The sign of love is the reproof, proved here because he is still “lacking in strength.” When you lack strength who do you call? That’s the point. 

Instances like these can be multiplied times over  in his letters. His spirit is seen further in his pleas to fellow minister Mensch, referencing again his weakness and imperfection.

“What shall I write to you in my great weakness and imperfection? Should I write only from the holy Scriptures? My thoughts ramble on; it is more familiar to you than me. Since I read the letter which you wrote to Gehman and what was the incident with brother Gotwals and then again between the brethren Detweiler and Deis, thinking how they are in disunity; but I still had this hope that they would perhaps stand in unity with each other again.

 And again he writes: “Oh dear brother, I wish we as ministers and ambassadors in Christ’s stead could all be a true light and salt of the earth, that the people could see our good works and praise our Father in heaven. But in this I always find myself so weak and imperfect.”

This appeal to his weakness is no sham, for he is physically weakened, but perseveres anyway: “Dear brother, when I think of my weakness and shortcomings, which so often make their appearance, but which I don’t want, then I wonder how I can stand before my God. But I hope He may have patience with our shortcomings. If not, who would or could stand before Him?” 

Maybe we wish there were more men like him who did not so abruptly sail their plans over our heads. His conclusion is that “The dear Savior said, My strength is made perfect in weakness,” so it is his vocation to lead with humility, from the physical discomfort with which he started as bishop, to its conclusion: “We are quite healthy physically, but spiritually we are weak.”

These are consistent themes in his life. There are two ways to the Mennonite idea of renewing the image of God. One way is to give up your life without compromise in death. The other way is to live in a constant attitude of humility and servanthood to others, putting their needs ahead of your own.

It sounds a lot like the Martyr’s Mirror when he says that “if everything went well we would possibly grow forgetful of what is the most necessary, but our sorrow of which Paul writes doesn’t cease.” 

He embraces sufferers of all kinds in his letters: for “often we plan something and the loving God thinks differently. But the Lord’s ways are right and good although we often don’t understand it. If we love God, we know that God does all things for the best, even when we must go through sorrow here in this earthly life. But we have the promise that sorrow brings forth the peaceable fruit. So we want to walk in the ways of the Lord, that we can enter heaven and we don’t wish to miss Jesus’ call or be left behind.”

He gives deep thought to these things, what is a man’s destiny, his duty, his hope, his explanation of suffering, “so Dear brother, I will ask you a question. Can man prepare his own garment of righteousness or not?” 

On the one hand we see his writing as personal, but sometimes it is heuristic, not only  to his fellow pastor who must obviously share his thoughts, but some of his letters were meant to be read aloud, no doubt from the pulpit as a greeting and instruction from the bishop.

Bally, Berks Co., Pa., September 18, 1889

“Dear brethren and all who hear this read.”

            Honesty, humility and love, with a recognition of what can be done, where faith starts and work stops. For surely these people faced death, accident, sickness and difficulty at an incidence many times our own. So he says: “we value our physical health so highly, for we value it above all earthly treasures, but when we read the Scriptures we find that a child of God must suffer much and Christ had to suffer much for our sake, for if they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in a dry?” 

When his comrade in spirit, Jacob Mensch, loses his wife, coincident with the last letter of Andrew Mack’s in the collection, he writes in sympathy and faith. We read this letter considering that we are about to see Henry Mack also lose his wife.

 “I can get around in the house and in weakness write to brethren and sisters, although my nerves are still weak for writing, but I hope if the Lord will I can look after my duties again by spring. Dear brother, I regret that the sister left us…attend her funeral. However it was Lord’s will, so what shall we say? The poet says, What God has done is rightly done, His will is always fitting, whatever He has once begun, myself I’ll be submitting. Yet when it comes to the point where one must give up one’s dearly beloved our help, our support in difficulties and distress, and one may say, half of our lives, this causes a deep wound. But we have this comfort in the Scriptures, the one who strikes the wounds can also heal them. To you, dear brother, I can say what brother J. Clemmer said to me when he departed when Eli died; the words with which you have comforted others shall now be your comfort. I will say the same to you, although you have likely found that it is easier to comfort others as oneself. I must close. Writing makes me weaker. Our of love, from your weak brother,

 Andrew & Elizabeth Mack. Write again.” (2/13/1906)

 

The majority of his “deep thought” concerned others, his duties to them and his insufficiency before God. But his mediation also involved a more visionary sort of compassion. Not only, for example, upon the effects of the “fire of love” on families and communities, but also upon destines and fate, many of which he suggests are not just optional, but they need not be at all, for “many difficult tasks would not need to be done.” But he is not a fatalist. He holds to the power of good and of choice that would prevent “the many things would not make their appearance:”

Events seemed to reinforce his desire to mediate and not dictate, for Mennonites suffered many divisions over details. Andrew Mack did not want to add to division by his own behavior. He is celebrated as a conciliator, a most notable instance much later when he prevented schism over whether to recognize in November 1897 the formation of a General Conference in the west, something the “Old” congregations distrusted. Even though there was such portent of schism, he supported this recognition with the statement that

“If the congregations in the west were in such circumstances that they needed a general Conference, he said, we are ready to let them have it, and no need fear a division or separation in fellowship form us because you vote for something that you stand so much in need of. We know that you need I and why not vote for it” (quoted in Ruth, 406).

It’s as if his humility were the solution to all their pride, so an almost unanimous vote followed in favor. His weakness or humility inclined by temperament was reinforced by affliction. Thus when he refers to it in his letters it is more than rhetorical.

All of his preaching was in German, presented, like these letters in reflective and meditative fashion. His niece Anna, Henry’s daughter, who lived with her uncle in 1886 and 1887 after her mother had died, remembers that “each day, after the noon meal, he would retire to the room where he had a roll-top desk, get out his Bible to study and read for an hour before he went back to the farm work” (6).

His education of the eighth grade enhanced by his father, since Jesse Moyer Mack “had taught during the transition period from the old subscription school to the free school system,” instilled a “deep sense of correct speech and definiteness of expression” (Noah Mack, 11) in him, from his  seeking out “the benefit of the instruction of a well gifted and qualified teacher who taught in one of the public schools” (1) to his “developed vocal music in which he had a great delight and taught several singing classes which prepared him to be chorister for a number of years in the Hereford congregation” (1). The rhetorical balance he applied in his sermons we also see in his letters, and in his long life of diplomacy and innovation.“ Papers with notes and references might be found about his place of meditation and study but he took no  notes or outline to the podium. He proceeded by induction, “would read his text, rarely mentioning the theme of his mind or subject upon which he was going to speak but generally those who could follow him would clearly understand at the close what his theme was.” Again it is his grasp of detail,  “he possessed a distinct sense of definiteness” that measures his intellect. “He would not preach on any scripture or theme on which he had not a clear vision.”  Thus, “his sermons were mostly textual.”

What his deep thoughts consisted of may be illustrated by his refusal to promulgate the Millennium reign. Can you imagine a more universally accepted doctrine today?  At that time a function of the dispensationalist theology of Darby, (d. 1882),Andrew Mack thought commentators opaque. Anabaptist sects were supposed to all be chiliastic, but Old Mennonites took the concept as less proven. Rules and Discipline of the Franconia Conference as late as 1933 urge leaders “not speculate on unfulfilled prophecy as the doctrine of the Millennium” (Wenger 431). Noah says: “In his later years he once remarked in reference to this disputed question I am too old now I cannot get the points together to think it through. This was the last known word that he expressed on this question, but this was his rule in general.” The deliberateness of his intellect, not choosing a direction for its own sake or to belong to  a fad, is the mark of a true leader. Noah further spells out this “rule in general,” He would not decide for himself nor for any other before he had found the answer himself to the satisfaction of his own mind.” Reflection, meditation, study, self examination, prayer, depending “on the Spirit for interpretation and for revelation” were his means of inquiry.

 He traveled a great deal as well, as far west as Nebraska. He was frail of build yet a farmer, had a nervous disposition, spoke only German, was a musician like his brothers, a natural diplomat, even tempered with grace of mind and speech. He kept written accounts as did his brothers. Forty nine of his letters are extant. Even after the ago of 70  this public spirited, compassionate bishop traveled widely into the Midwest and the plains, and officiated at every public event of baptism, wedding and funeral as his public persona developed further character. 

See I have refined you though not as silver.

I have tested you in the furnace of affliction.

For my own sake, for my own sake, I do this.

How can I let myself be defamed?

I will not yield my glory to another. 

Isaiah 48.11

Sources

J. Paul Graybill, Ira D. Landis, J. Paul Sauder. Noah H. Mack: His Life and Times, 1861 – 1948. Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, The Board of Bishops of the Lancaster Mennonite Conference.

In 1939, Noah H. Mack wrote a rather extensive biography of his father, Bishop Andrew, for John D. Leatherman, now of Upland, Calif, also deposited in the Goshen College Library.

Anna Elizabeth Reiff Young. Best Foot Forward. Manuscript of the life of Anna Mack Reiff. 
John L. Ruth. Maintaining the Right Fellowship. Scottdale: Herald Press, 1984.