The Mennonites of Minnesota

So on sunday, me and my parents went to a Mennonite service with a couple of my parent's friends, and we discovered that underneath the veneer of wholesome kindness and pacifism is more wholesome kindness and pacifism! I thought I would characterize the quirky mix of people that I became acquainted with on that sunday. As we drove out of Rochester and pulled into the parking lot of the school where the service was held, I suddenly saw a wildly waving woman, happily pointing the way to the parking lot. Was this a volunteer who pointed the way for all members? No, it was Paula, who had been waiting for us for an unknown amount of time. After a crushing hug and a cheerful walk into the building, we entered the classroom-turned chapel, where a small group of smiling people wearing peace sign pins. To everyone Paula and Gordon (her husband) introduced us as "Dear Friends." As the service began, Gordon stood up, since he was the service leader, and introduced us again as dear friends to everyone in the congregation, which was surprisingly small. During the service, congregants got to chose what hymns were sung, and there were a lot! Aside from announcements from the various congregants about their plans or happenings in their homes, and a sermon from the preacher, it was all songs. After this, we walked out into the hallway where seemingly normal cookies awaited. I, of course, grabbed one. It was delicious, but different from other chocolate chip cookies I had had. Why? Because one of the members, Steve, owned an organic farm and store outside of Rochester, and had brought the cookies to the service. We ended up having a nice chat, and it turned out that he was a Northwestern grad. We discussed the similar farms in Ohio, and just talked about getting on the list to recieve produce. The other person who I got to talk to was the Minister, who joined the church seven years ago. He was very gracious, and offered me blessings and a seat in his church whenever I came to Rochester. We had entered that morning afraid of being interlopers, three Jews sitting in the corner, simply watching the service, but by the time we left, my dad was so impressed he decided to be a Mennonite...or at least pretend in our car. In Larry-speak that is a great compliment. I got the sense that these were the people responsible for Minnesota's "Nice" reputation. Overall, every one that I have met and interacted with has been kind and friendly, and welcomed me to Minnesota without even knowing that I was new.