The way we were: Eben-Ezer, the beginning

by Louise Bergen Price

It was not an easy step to take, but on February 4, 1963,
61 members of West Abbotsford church met in the basement of John and Mary Bergen’s home to discuss the feasibility of starting a new, German-speaking fellowship. At the centre was the issue of language. Although West Abbotsford members had been encouraged to keep German as the language of home and church, many young people, born and raised in Canada, no longer spoke fluent German. Further, it was felt that other English-speaking Mennonites, and the ‘Engländer’ in the surrounding area needed spiritual nurture. How could one preach the message of salvation if one spoke only German? Evangelist George Brunk emphasized this message on his very successful tent mission to the Fraser Valley in 1958. By 1959, some English Sunday School classes in West Abbotsford were in place and discussions started to form an English-only church plant, but nothing materialized from these discussions.

For the large number of members who were recent refugees from Europe, worshipping in English was not an option. Although by this time the school-age children were fluent and most of the men who worked out had learned English, most of the women had not. Neither had the old people.[9] Now, after a scant 15 years in Canada, they may well have the freedom to attend church, but they would not be able to understand God’s word. This was a bitter pill to swallow.

Language was not the only issue that divided the postwar immigrant group from the others—their experiences had changed their whole world view. Most had lost family members to Stalinist repressions; very few had arrived as complete families. On their way from Ukraine to refugee camps in Germany, Holland and Austria, they had rubbed shoulders with people of all nationalities. Men and boys had been conscripted into Hitler’s army. Women and girls had worked as servants, nurses, teachers, translators, secretaries. They had come through Europe’s old cities, now in ruins. (Some narrowly survived the bombing of Dresden.) They had come through unimaginable difficulties, and they had survived. Along the way, though, many of the men had become addicted to smoking, and most enjoyed an occasional bottle of beer or glass of wine. They were familiar with Charlie Chaplin, and they knew how to waltz. Although they soon learned what was acceptable to their new co-religionists in Canada, they still enjoyed circle games brought from Ukraine--Grünes Grass, Schlüsselbund and others--games now frowned upon as being ‘too close to dancing.’ And while dancing was prohibited in this new community, roller-skating at Cultus, by couples, to the accompanyment of Strauss waltz music, was all right. It was most puzzling.

In any case, by January 18, 1963, the discontent that simmered was brought to a head by a petition presented by Jake Redekop Sr. that a group be allowed to organize to form a new German-speaking church. Thirty-three families wanted to leave, but had not attached their names to the petition, foreseeing perhaps Rev. Froese’s attempt to ‘counsel with each independent family represented by that letter’

A congregational meeting on February 1 lasted until 11pm with no resolution in sight until Peter Funk said, “Why not let them go. I can’t understand German that well, and they can’t understand English. Does it not then seem reasonable that they should be allowed to leave?”[11] This comment seemed to sum the situation up, and the Eben-Ezer group was granted permission to go ahead.

Now work started in earnest. At the February 4 meeting, it was decided to buy a property on the corner of Windsor and Marshall. Jake Siemens was elected as chairperson and a building committee voted in. Two weeks later, the name ‘Eben-Ezer’ was chosen to represent this congregation. Sod turning followed a week later. Heinrich Neudorf was elected as minister, Isaak and Mika Bergen as deacons, and Jake Tilitzky called as leading minister.

Everyone who could, took part in building the new church. Farmers volunteered during the day; others took the evening shift. Women contributed baked goods for coffee breaks (and picked up the slack at home & on the farm). Omtje Peter Regier, one of the older members of the congregation, cooked coffee twice a day.

By July, the building was complete and the people of West Abbotsford were invited to join the new congregation at Eben-Ezer to celebrate the dedication of the building. Rev. J. B. Wiens of Vancouver, Rev. H.H. Neufeld of Chilliwack, and Rev. P.J. Froese spoke at the all-day dedication services.

Sunday morning services continued much as they had at West Abbotsford: a period of singing before the service, then Bekandtmachungen (announcements), more singing, Bible reading, one or two sermons. We could depend on A.A. Harder to lecture us on moral behaviour and dress code, and Heinrich Neudorf to speak on the second coming. And on Jake Tilitzky’s sermons to be brief, anecdotal, and to the point. I remember one of his sermons word for word. It was during one of those three sermon marathons that happened during Thanksgiving or Missionsfest. The first two speakers had gone well over their time limit. Jake stepped to the pulpit and intoned: ‘Die Zeit is kurz, o Mensch sei Weise,’ and sat down. (Time is short, oh humans; use it wisely.’)

I was fifteen during those heady days, a member of the youth choir and part of the first group of baptismal candidates. I remember the excitement of our ‘own’ church. I remember also the surprise of a new culture.

Nick and John Peters, who led the Eben-Ezer youth group, had grown up in Paraguay and brought with them German folk songs, Mennonite circle games, and the everyday use of Low German, all with a twist of South American flavour.

Within a year, the church membership doubled to 149 and the basement was no longer adequate to house all the children for Sunday School. Again, volunteers stepped forward. Sod was turned on September 28, 1964; dedication of the building was celebrated December 13, 1964.

In those early days, when hundreds of untrained voices filled the church, singing from the heart in four-part harmony, there was no doubt in their
hearts—the refugees had found a home at last.

[9] By 1960, 30% of the congregation preferred English, 40% were bilingual, 30 % spoke only German. (Margaret Koop: ‘Our beginning,’ Eben-Ezer Mennonite Gemeinde [yearbook], 1978. p. 10.)
[10] David F. Loewen: Living Stones: a history of West Abbotsford Mennonite Church, 1936-1986. p 31.
[11] Loewen, p. 32