CHAPTER
twenty-nine

Earnest felt especially receptive to the sermon given by Bishop John this special day—the instruction from God’s Word. He thought again of how Rhoda read to him each night; her influence during their marriage had surely brought him to this place of peace. That, and her many faithful prayers.

When the congregation turned to kneel, Earnest prayed for God’s will to be done in the drawing of the lot, which would occur following the communion service after the shared meal. He also prayed for wisdom and comfort for the man who would soon find the words from Proverbs sixteen on a slip of paper tucked in his Ausbund hymnal: The lot is cast into the lap; but the whole disposing thereof is of the LORD. Upon that discovery, he would be declared the new preacher, without any theological training or formal education. Instead, the ordained man would take as his guide all that he had witnessed in his years as a member, trusting God for the sermons he would preach to the People.

At three o’clock that afternoon, Bishop John broke the loaf of bread at the approximate hour Christ was crucified that long-ago day, explaining how the life of a Christian must be like a grain of wheat that falls to the ground and dies, then springs to life with rain and sun. “Our old nature must perish, and the new man—our new nature in Christ—must grow and flourish,” Bishop John said, his voice strong and fervent.

Thankful for divine grace and redemption, Earnest thought, I allowed my old nature to take over for too long.

The man of God humbly moved through the congregation, first to the men’s side, offering a piece of bread to each one, and then across the room to the women’s side, where he did the same. Witnessing the bishop serve them in this way, Earnest couldn’t help but think of the verse in Mark that he had learned from his papa Zimmerman. For even the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.

Before passing the single cup of wine, Bishop John dutifully described the process of putting grapes into a winepress to remove all impurities and ensure the sweet juice that came forth was pure. “Just as the Lord’s blood cleansed us from our sins when He gave His life for us on the cross.”

The shared cup was then passed from one person to the next, and Earnest drank from it before giving it to Elam Lapp, Samuel’s eldest, on his right.

The foot-washing ceremony followed, with one person washing another man’s feet, and a woman washing a woman’s, everyone doing so as an act of humility. Afterward, the partners exchanged a holy kiss and offered each other a spoken blessing. Last of all, the congregation gave their offerings to Deacon Luke, who held the alms box as the People filed out of the temporary House of Worship only to line up again at the separate doors for men and women. It was the moment for each to whisper a nomination.

The suspense was intense as Earnest waited with the other men, experiencing for the second time in his life the anticipation of the process of making a preacher, as the People called it.

Who will the Lord appoint? he wondered, staying in an attitude of prayer and reverence.

While waiting for Dat and Mamma’s return, Sylvia read from Rules of a Godly Life in the front room and heard a bird singing his little heart out near the front porch. She smiled as she paged through to the section on patience, knowing she would surely need that virtue as she waited to be baptized into the fellowship of like-minded Amish. She recalled Dawdi Riehl once declaring at a family gathering that the word obedience was the most significant in the English language. If only I had followed through with my original plan to join church, she thought sadly.

Ach, I mustn’t live in the past, she thought, keeping her finger in the book her Mamma had so loved to read, and now Dat seemingly did, too.

Earnest whispered the name of his nominee as he passed by the slightly open doorway. Inside, the minister would write down names and tally the number of votes each received. Some men would get only a handful of votes, and others many more.

When he’d had his turn, Earnest walked around the front of the house to sit and wait on the men’s side again, having nominated his brother-in-law, Curtis Mast, from the next farm over. Curtis was a devout man with a generous spirit and a kind heart.

Once all the votes were counted, the top five candidates would be put into the lot. Five hymnals would be placed on a table in a private room—only one would contain the proverb written on a piece of paper. A man in good standing as a member would be chosen randomly to put a rubber band around each hymnal before all five were shuffled and carried into the large room where the congregation had re-gathered for the ordination service.

Presently, Bishop John stood before the membership and stated the names of the five candidates for the lot, inviting those men to come forward to the table where the hymnals were lined up.

The atmosphere was thick with expectation as the bishop asked each of the five to proclaim the cornerstone principles of the church. Earnest saw how pale in the face several of the men looked and remembered what Mahlon had told him years ago about carrying the heavy weight of the new responsibility. “My cross to bear,” he’d said. . . .

Bishop John then asked for all the members to kneel in surrender to the heavenly Father and to pray for God’s will in the choice of their next preacher. When the silent prayer was finished, the congregation rose to take their seats, and the bishop requested the candidates to choose one of the five hymnals. The men did so in no specific order, then waited for the bishop to go to each one in turn and open the hymnal to search for the paper hidden inside.

Four of these farmers will walk out of this service free of this tremendous responsibility, thought Earnest, holding his breath. But one will soon be ordained.

The first three men looked altogether relieved when the bishop did not find the proverb in the hymnals they held. One man’s shoulders noticeably sagged as he blew air out through his lips, his cheeks puffing out.

The bishop moved to the next candidate and opened his hymnal, and in that moment, the suspense was quickly over as the slip of paper was found. Bishop John announced that God had chosen Benuel Zook to be a shepherd overseeing and nurturing this flock. “I beseech you to be steadfast and true to this holy calling,” the bishop instructed Benuel before shaking his hand and welcoming him into the ministry with a holy kiss.

Benuel stood there, looking rather shocked at the responsibility that so swiftly had been placed upon his shoulders—a responsibility he had promised to accept back when he was baptized as a youth, many years ago.

Earnest felt for his friend and would keep Mahlon’s youngest son in his daily prayers. He’ll soon be my neighbor.

During the ride home after the service, Rhoda had a little quiver in her voice as she asked, “How do ya think this will affect Andy’s interest in our daughter?”

Her question hit Earnest like a rockslide. “Ach, I hadn’t considered that.” He groaned—this had the potential to repeat the grief Sylvia had experienced with Titus and his preacher father.

But Earnest knew he must take the lead in trusting God on this matter. “Fretting isn’t what we’re called to do, dear,” he said. “We must look to the Lord for the outcome.”

“So will you tell Sylvia that Andy’s father was ordained today?”

“Jah, but let’s not make too much of it.” He meant it. Today was not a day to sow doubt but rather a high and holy day.

“The same all-knowing God who chose Andy’s Dat to be a minister can also be trusted to choose Sylvie’s future mate,” said Earnest, patting Rhoda’s hand.