A review of Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen

When I noticed that Mennonite in a Little Black Dress had been endorsed by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, I was cautious. Would this be another memoir searching for self-awareness while indulging the self, with a pick-and-choose approach to spirituality?

In some ways, this book is like that, but there are many differences.

For one thing, Rhoda Janzen has a genuine cause of grief: suffering a painful divorce from an abusive and suicidal husband, then being the victim in a car crash leaving her with multiple injuries. However, she doesn’t seek to manipulate the reader, but has a refreshingly light-hearted view of all her troubles.

She is able to laugh at the fact that her husband left her for a man called Bob he met through the Internet site: Gay.com. She admits to her part in some of the poor decisions that have afflicted her, such as agreeing to buy an expensive house in a remote location, which is impossible to sell (causing financial hardship); and which has poor access roads leading to her head-on crash.

She decides to return back home, to her devout Mennonite family. The Mennonites (who developed from the Anabaptist movement) were founded in Switzerland, focused on the mission and ministry of Jesus, and developing beliefs that were the forerunner to the Reformation. They are sometimes mistaken for Amish, who split from the Mennonites in 1693, because of their plain dress. They are also known for the passionate commitment to non-violence. They have often been victims of persecution by Protestants and Catholics.

Rhoda has a lot of fun describing her family and their quaint beliefs. At the end of the book she explains that the book was fully endorsed by her family.

At times her descriptions of her mother and father came scarily close to my own parenting: saying grace in public, restrictions on what is watched on TV and what is worn... All this is served up as bizarre behaviour, along with beliefs that homosexuality is wrong, or even referring to God as a male.

In fact I found heaps to love in her parents: they are jolly and accepting and genuinely caring of others; they are strong in their marriage and delighted by the everyday and are firm in their biblical convictions.

Rhoda also has a deep respect for her parents’ love for her and each other. Her self-deprecating humour takes the sting out of her observations.

The reality is she has never fully shared her parent’s faith. Even as a child she hedged her bets: reading in Genesis about powerful Pharaoh, she prayed to him as well as to God, just in case. It is clear she hasn’t experienced a personal relationship with God. She was a teen when she came to the conclusion that religion was empty groupthink, confirmed by a pass made at her by a male youth leader.

Yet, even though she married an atheist, she still believes in God. She likes having him there in her worldview; but doesn’t expect him to intervene. She likes the social work of her parents, but rejects their moral views.

It is true that she mixes up with religion some Mennonite peculiarities, like not bothering to educate women. She sees that as evidence of a religion too scared to ask too many questions. She believes the church has just failed to evolve with the times; it is always 50 years behind society.

For her, faith is just a path to virtue.

We can’t measure the existence of supernatural beings any more than we can control our partners... What I can measure, what I can control, is my own response to life’s challenges.

Rhoda ends her memoir in an ambiguous place; the contrast between her reasoning - which cannot allow for supernatural beings and has an abiding faith in humanity’s ability to overcome its own failings - and the faith she observes around her which is integrated and consistent and altruistic and beautiful. She is with a Mennonite Seniors group on a day-trip that ends at an herb farm where they join in a sing-along with percussion instruments.

Harmony rose like a prayer in the cool of the late afternoon, and the music was gentle as a hand on the small of the back, nudging me forward - the sound of my heritage, my future.

In an interview at the back of some editions of the book Rhoda is asked where she is at with her spiritual journey and she responds: “I am still exploring issues of spiritualty and theology, and I’m even regularly attending a church.” Significantly she says, “Also, nobody’s twisting my arm!” It is her choice.