My Mennonite Saints

My Great Aunts: Aunt Katherine, Aunt Susie, Aunt Anna, and Aunt Mary

I become teary-eyes when the “Litany of The Saints” is sung at Mass. “Saint Francis, pray for us, Saint Teresa, pray for us,” and the prayer repeats naming various saints with the repeating chorus: “All you holy men and women, pray for us.”

The Catholic tradition of calling upon the Saints to accompany us and intervene for us stirs up memories of my own Mennonite ancestors.

I have a rich Mennonite tradition that laid the foundation of my faith. Raised by a Mennonite community that included aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, neighbors, schools, and church and family, I am wrapped in a patchwork quilt of faith; many pieces sewed together.

In my mind, I started to silently add the names of my own Mennonite ancestors whenever the “Litany of the Saints,” is sung at Mass. With each Saint mentioned, my own ancestors come to my mind. Aunt Anna and Katherine, pray for us, Aunt Esther, pray for us, Lucille and Wesley, pray for us, Grandma Katherine, pray for us. With my eyes closed, I Imagine myself embraced, empowered, and encouraged by my ancestors.

Aunt Anna and Katherine pray for us…

My aunts sometimes invited my family of six for dinner at their tiny home a few blocks away. We all gathered around tables pushed together and squeezed into our chairs; the kitchen was crowded with relatives. There was always a lot of meat, my favorite mashed potatoes, and the familiar heavy salads.

My Aunt Anna dominated the small room. She was tall with a large frame and had an even larger personality. Aunt Anna did most of the talking as we ate our dinner, telling stories and laughing heartily. Her sister, Aunt Katherine, always sitting nearby, didn’t say much, but she had a twinkle in her eye and smiled while Anna talked. Katherine was known as the shorter and quieter aunt.

When my aunts were younger, they lived in the Chicago suburbs for awhile. My mom told me they worked as nannies, which I think was probably a bold move for a rural Mennonite woman in the 1940’s and 1950’s. In their later lives, my aunts returned to our Kansas hometown where they lived together. Never married, they took care of each other. My aunts lived lifetimes before I got to know them.

Sixty years later, I still remember Anna’s loud laugh and Katherine’s quiet smile and how they took care of each other.

My dad enjoying dinner with Aunt Anna sitting next to him in her tiny kitchen.

Rosella, pray for us….

My best friend Cheryl and I had occasional weekend sleepovers as kids like to do. In the morning, Cheryl’s mom Rosella would fix breakfast for us, always asking how we liked our eggs prepared. She asked me every time, like I was in a restaurant. Rosella expertly cooked my eggs in her darkened well-used skillet and then added toasted buttered Wonder Bread. It was so good. Sixty years later, I still remember her small acts of kindness and her asking, “how do you want your eggs this morning?”

Katie Funk Wiebe, pray for us…

Katie was a teacher colleague of my dad, a woman in a conservative Mennonite Brethern church that still does not allow women to be ministers. Katie used her writing to push for change. She was a college professor and an author of dozens of books and countless articles in Mennonite publications.

When I was the editor of my college paper, she was my faculty advisor. I remember Katie as critical and difficult to work with. She wasn’t trying to please anyone; she spoke her truth no matter if it made you uncomfortable. While I cringed at some of her comments on my writing, she pushed me to grow.

Katie was a lone female, often unappreciated, in a male dominated church and college. Fifty years later, I still remember her persistence to speak her truth.

Wesley J. Prieb, pray for us…

My dad was a conscientious objector during Word War II. Following a nonviolent path was an unpopular choice to make, but he had the support of our Mennonite tradition and he was surrounded by a community of support. He worked along with other young Mennonite men doing alternative service in mental health hospitals and on federal park projects. As a college professor and a church deacon, my dad was well-known for his pacifist beliefs and encouraged many to follow his path. Also a writer, my dad wrote articles and contributed to books about Mennonite history and its peace tradition.

My dad died in 1997. Almost thirty years later, I continue to thank my dad for his commitment to our Mennonite tradition and his pacifist beliefs.

My ancestors have given me many gifts. “All you holy men and women, pray for us.”

Take it or Leave It Suggestion #21: Remember the gifts your ancestors gave you.

My dad around the time he did his service as a conscientious objector. He was a pacifist with the support of our Mennonite tradition.