LIKE six generations before him, Pawpaw was a Mennonite. My father’s father grew up on his uncle’s farm in Pennsylvania Dutch Country. He ran away to Philadelphia and became a businessman, but eventually he came back, married, and brought up his family in the strong Protestant traditions of the Brethren. At the same time my mother’s father-from the same Anabaptist roots-was moving out of the Reformed church which had ‘gone liberal’ to find strong Bible teaching for his family in an independent chapel.
That night all was harvest. The monks who gathered in solemn joy to receive us could have been serious Mennonite elders. Certainly all things Anglican had come to fruition and were completed in that simple ceremony. Even the pain and anger from the Bob Jones experience was gathered up and reconciled.