Heini Arnold and the Early Woodcrest
Community
by Ramon Sender Barayon
Presented by Julius H. Rubin at the Elizabethtown Anabaptist
Conference, June, 1993.
When I was twenty-two I visited Woodcrest in September,
1957, having heard about the group from a friend who had
just returned from the Macedonia Cooperative Community in
Georgia. At first glance, Woodcrest seemed idyllic.
Children played in the shade of the sugar maples while
their parents relaxed nearby. Dress was casual, the men
in jeans and sport shirts, the women in print skirts and
blouses. I introduced myself to the guest warden (who is
among our conference presenters) and was assigned a bunk
bed in the Bughouse, the single men's quarters. My
roommate was a Hutterite lad who recently had become a
Novice member. I was impressed with the obvious
stability of relationships at the Bruderhof, especially
because my own marriage had fallen apart that year for
the second time. I desperately missed my two-year-old
daughter, Xavie, whom I had not seen for some months and
with whom I had bonded closely as her houseparent during
her first year. I wistfully watched youngsters play on
the swings near the parking lot, and thought how happy I
would be if Xavie could grow up in such a perfect
children's environment!
To the casual weekend visitor, the Christian
aspects of the Bruderhof belief system were not
immediately apparent during those early Woodcrest years.
At guest meetings, my religious and/or philosophical
questions usually were turned aside with the remark,
"Just live and work with us, and everything will become
clear." So I cheerfully continued living on the fringes
of the community in the manner of all Bruderhof long-
term guests. The almost nightly brotherhood meetings were
not open, even to serious aspirants. I had to be
satisfied with the occasional guest meetings, the
invitations to family breakfasts and supper evenings, and
the discussions in the Bug House.
When I talked with one of the sisters about my
serious interest in joining, she explained that the
Bruderhof did not believe in divorce. If I did not want
to remain a single and celibate brother for the rest of
my life, I had better try to get back together with my
wife, whom I shall call Rosemary. I was dubious about this
possibility since I had suffered a recent break-up with
Rosemary, and she currently was involved with one of my
best friends. However, the sister offered to help if she
could.
Gradually, through reading "The Plough"
quarterly and Eberhard Arnold's writings, I realized that
without accepting Jesus as my personal savior there could
be no permanent place for me in the community. I had
discovered Meister Eckhardt earlier that year which
awakened my interest in Christian mysticism. Perhaps
because of this, I did not find it difficult to merge
with the 'group mind' or to accept the intensely
Christian character of the Gemeindestunde worship
services. Once I was allowed to attend these Sunday
evening meetings, Heini finally came into focus as the
charismatic Servant who led the membership in group
prayer.
Looking back today on the experience of these
first few months at Woodcrest, I see how I gradually
accepted the prevailing spirit that whispered, "We are
the chosen ones. We are living the true Christian life
just like the early church fathers." The underlying
message was, "Die to your self-will, your little ego,
because only by this death can you be reborn as a true
brother."
About this time, my wife Rosemary visited with her
current lover. The symbolism of the bright red dress that
she wore was not lost on the brotherhood. My daughter
blended into the two-year-olds' group, and I watched her
with delight as she played on the swings under the trees
where I had first watched the Woodcrest children and
yearned for her presence.
Rosemary remained defensive and aloof especially
when some brothers convinced her boyfriend to leave.
But when Heini came up to her after Sunday lunch and
inquired how things were going, to my amazement, she
burst into tears. He took her up to his office for a
chat. I had never before seen anyone or anything bring
Rosemary to tears. When I drove her and Xaverie back to the
city later that day, it was obvious that Heini had made
a profound impression.
By January of the following year, 1958, Rosemary
and Xavie had moved permanently to Woodcrest, and a few
months later we took our novice vows together. We
continued to live separately and sit apart at meals and
meetings. Heini warned me not to make any demands on
her, as Rosemary needed time to heal from the
destructiveness of our previous life together.
"She is a very unusual person," he said to me.
"Never expect her to be a woman like other women. You
must make allowances for her. She is a person of unique
qualities."
I could only murmur in assent. At this point, I
wanted to be like any other happy Bruderhof couple,
snuggled up with my own sweet and obedient wife and
delightful daughter. How Rosemary would fit into that
fantasy remained unclear.
One day I visited Xavie and found Rosemary reading
a thick manuscript, The Life of Johann Christoph
Blumhardt. Intrigued, I glanced over her shoulder but
she immediately closed it. "Heini made me promise not to
show it to anyone," she said. When I brought up the
subject of the manuscript, Heini acted mysteriously
about it. After gazing at me for some time, as if
gauging my spiritual depth, he nodded his head.
"It's a very important work, and usually we don't
share it with anyone until they are in baptism
preparation," he said. "In Rosemary's case I made an
exception because she is highly intelligent. A very
unusual person. Never expect her to be just a typical
sister -- no, no! It will demand much of you when your
marriage is healed." Suddenly he smiled. "Of course,
Ramon, you may read it too. Just please, I ask you, do
not show it to others." Blumhardt's account of the
ever-present danger of demonic possession staggered me
with the message of evil as a personified force on
earth.
Some months later a difficult problem arose
involving Miriam, a Novice who lived across the hall
from Rosemary and had been in our baptism preparation
group. I admired her outgoing personality, as one given
to light-hearted remarks. She became withdrawn and
hostile. Late one night, I received a call to come to
Heini's apartment. I arrived to find twenty brothers and
sisters gathered around Miriam who was lying on the bed
thrashing around strangely. We sang some hymns at
Heini's request to drown out the obscenities that she was
screaming. Her behavior resembled the possessed young
woman in Blumhardt's book.
My first reaction was disbelief. She was just
pretending, I thought.
She too had read Blumhardt . Obviously, she had
intuited Heini's fascination with the demonic and would
provide Heini with a chance to battle Satan and prove
again that Christ is Victor! The next day she was moved
into special quarters in the Baby House and placed under
twenty-four hour guard. Every few days I would be
included in the group called to gather at her side at odd
hours. During intervals of lucidity, Miriam appeared at
meals seated beside Heini, with a sweet, faraway
expression on her face. Of course she had Heini totally
fascinated. He allowed her to talk at Brotherhood
Meetings and treated her as one of his daughters.
When not 'under attack,' she was, according to
Heini, very perceptive on religious matters. However she
was taking up a great deal of his time. One night, there
was a flurry of activity and the sound of a car leaving
the parking lot. In the morning, I heard that Miriam had
thrust both her arms through a window and severely cut
her wrists. She was stitched up by a friendly doctor who
promised not to report the matter to the authorities.
That same day, a work crew replaced all the glass panes
in her room with unbreakable Plexiglas.
Some members "fell into difficulties" trying to
understand Heini's Blumhardt- inspired point of view.
They were temporarily excluded for questioning
authority, for the exercise of conscience. The crisis
dragged on for months until Heini himself confessed he
had identified too deeply with Blumhardt. With many
pressing problems clamoring for his attention, he
admitted that Miriam might be mentally disturbed. The
Brotherhood decided to institutionalize her for
treatment.
In the Spring before Miriam's illness,
Rosemary and I were included in a baptism preparation group
which was a shattering experience for me -- a true ego
death. Heini pulled out all the props shoring up my
identity, all the excuses I had for my previous actions.
After a confession session, alone in my room, I realized
that nothing was left inside me except a silent
emptiness. Out of that vacuum came an unassailable
experience of God's love for me. Later, I was able to
express to Rosemary my deep sorrow over the wrongs I had
done her. She seemed to accept my words, although without
any thaw in the frozen relationship. Although we were
not baptized into membership, we were invited to attend
brotherhood meetings, seated together for the first time
as the other husbands and wives. At our first meeting,
a brother who had been committed for shock treatment came
in to address the circle. After he mumbled a few
incoherent phrases, Heini shouted at him to leave until
he could find true repentance. For the first time I was
jolted by the severity of our Servant's treatment of a
'down-and-out' brother.
I began to join Rosemary and Xavie at after-siesta
snack times in their apartment. I moved from the shop to
the Community Playthings office to assist the Office
Manager, and interacted with Rosemary on a daily basis in
her role as secretary-typist and in a second baptism
preparation group which began to meet on the top floor of
the schoolhouse. Annemarie, Heini Arnold's wife, confided
to me that "You and Rosemary will be moving together very
soon," and explained that the housemothers were preparing
an apartment for us.
I began to feel some anxiety regarding the
preparation group and my relationship with Rosemary. I
couldn't figure out what I was expected to die to that I
had not died to before. The 'ego death' experience had
been extraordinarily painful, and I shied away from
having to undergo it again. After all, had not God
assured me of His love and acceptance? Hadn't I
experienced His forgiveness for all my past sins? Was I
supposed to confess them all over again? And what about
Rosemary? She still was so distant, so uninterested in me
except perhaps as Xavie's father.
Rosemary had caught fire. She spoke at each
meeting. She challenged me to participate more, and once
brought me to tears by telling me that I loved the
marriage more than I loved Christ. Later with Heini she
again taunted me for being "soft." At this point
something snapped inside me, and I lost trust in the
marriage- healing process that Heini was overseeing.
Rosemary's sharp edges had come to the fore, reminding me
of all the previous reasons why I could not and would
not live with her. I was filled with anxiety,
desperate to leave but immobilized by my illusory hope of
healing a failed marriage and continuing my relationship
with my daughter.
After a year of celibacy, I felt an compulsive
urge to masturbate, aware that from the context of
Bruderhof teachings, I was committing a sexual sin that
if confessed would result in severe punishment or
exclusion from the community. Over the next week I
basically masturbated my way out of Woodcrest.
During my travail, Heini was visiting the Oak
Lake Bruderhof, involved in a crisis there which
reflected the even larger crisis brewing in the European
and Paraguayan communities. I was sent to the new
Connecticut 'hof and then was asked to leave and take a
kitchen job at a nearby children's camp. One day after
lunch, the boss told me that there were some people
behind the dining room who wanted to talk to me. I went
out, and there sat Heini and at least a half-dozen
Witness Brothers. They had decided to check up on me on
their way from one Bruderhof to another. By then I knew
that I could never return. Hardest of all was the
realization that Xavie would be lost to me, but I
comforted myself with the thought that at least I had
managed to get her out of New York City and into what I
thought of then as a sheltered children's community. I
decided that if the price of Xavie's happiness was my
loss of her daily presence, well, somehow I would find
the strength to bear the pain of her absence.
That fall I wavered feeling that I was going
against God and losing my daughter forever. So I met two
Witness Brothers at the Poughkeepsie YMCA .
"Couldn't something be worked out?" I asked. "I
could find a job near Woodcrest and keep seeing Xavie."
"No, no," they said. "You have no relationship
with your daughter outside of the Bruderhof."
I returned to San Francisco and continued my
musical studies at the conservatory. It took many months
to overcome the trauma of leaving. Once I wrote Rosemary
in desperation, suggesting that she and Xavie join me.
Again I offered to meet her on neutral ground, or with a
therapist. But she never answered. Instead I received
an official notice that she had been baptized into
membership. This put to a definite end to any possibility
of a resolution.
Later, I met a woman and we fell in love. The
following summer I went to Mexico for a divorce and
remarried. Heini and Rosemary visited me in San
Francisco, but there was nothing to talk about. Rosemary
told me I was giving myself to death, and as I left her
for the last time in the hotel lobby, I shouted something
which now I do not recall. Heini reported back to the
brotherhood, with an air of finality, that I was
rebellious.
Over the ensuing years, whenever I was on the
East Coast visiting family, I would gird myself for the
psychic onslaught and phone Woodcrest. Palms sweating,
my heart racing, I would ask to visit Xavie. Always they
refused and I acquiesced meekly when I should have
insisted or sued for visitation rights. But I could not
face the collective disapproval of the brotherhood, and
told myself it was better to allow Xavie an undisturbed
childhood rather than, to quote one of Heini's favorite
phrases, 'bring a disturbance.'
In the Sixties I dropped out, and helped to found
an open-door hippie communal ranch that was the exact
opposite of the Bruderhof in almost every imaginable way.
There I pursued my spiritual quest with occasional LSD
sessions. After three or four of these, I wrote or
telephoned the Bruderhof in an attempt to communicate
with them, another error on my part. But it does not seem
surprising to me that, after the way I had been treated,
there would not be some sort of traumatic reaction on my
part.
In 1973, when my daughter Xavie was eighteen, I
managed to pressure the Bruderhof into allowing me to
visit her. A series of articles about brain-washing had
appeared in the press, and this word proved the magical
"open sesame" that allowed me one hour with her in a
local diner. This precious hour remains burned into my
memory, because I sensed her happiness at our
reconnection. But it also was difficult for her, and I
could sense how she was caught on the horns of a dilemma:
how to remain true to the Bruderhof's shunning of me and
to her love for her daddy? This tension put her in a
very painful position. A year later I crashed the gate
with my sister, an Episcopalian nun. We managed a brief
visit with Xavie before we were asked to leave. All my
subsequent attempts to keep in touch via letters only
resulted in one reply from Xavie, asking me not to write
again. She explained she could not remain true to
Christ's teaching on divorce and have any thing to do
with me. So I drew back and only wrote birthday
greetings, trying to find a delicate way to continue the
relationship.
It was only by fortuity that a brother told me
over the phone in 1988 (mistaking me for a customer) that
Xavie was not taking orders because she had just given
birth to her second child. That is how I learned that
she was married, and that I was a grandfather -- twice.
One month later she was diagnosed as suffering from
melanoma. She died ten days later. Again, I was only
informed a month after her death. At first I could not
believe the news, but over the next few months, the
reality began to sink in. I had to surrender the last
hope that some day we would see each other again. It took
a year to grieve, at which point I decided to try to
reconstruct and commemorate Xavie's life through
interviews with those who had known her. When Woodcrest
refused to allow me to speak with anyone there, I began
to contact ex-members. I started with one telephone
number, but within two months I had found over sixty.
Since the Bruderhof always warns departing members not to
contact other ex-members, many of those I spoke to were
out of touch.
I decided to begin a newsletter to create a
network. Within six months I was mailing 250 copies every
month that averaged about 10,000 words per issue. Within
a year our mailing list had climbed to almost 500 with
20,000 words per issue. I invited four ex-Bruderhofers in
the Bay Area to form a staff, incorporated as a
non-profit foundation, and began to publish various
book-length memoirs as well as sponsor annual conferences
in Massachusetts as well as the United Kingdom.
The first issues of the newsletter brought a
response from Kathy Mow, the wife of the author of
Torches Rekindled. She claimed that I was shunned
because I sent Xavie some "nude coloring books and some
occult literature." It is true that in 1974 I
co-authored a book illustrated with childlike drawings of
nudes. In it I quoted a very ancient Sanskrit hymn to
the sun that in India is considered the most holy of
prayers. I mailed a copy to Xavie, who was eighteen
years old at the time. With hindsight, it was a tactical
error, but by then the pain of the non-relationship was
beginning to turn into a feeling of hopelessness and I
felt that I had nothing to lose. In reply to Kathy, I
wrote:
"All that the Bruderhof has done for me since
the time I was asked to leave has been consistently
to refuse me any contact with Xavie throughout
her childhood and to treat me like a leper. I feel
no 'burden of personal guilt,' as you call it, because
whatever guilt I may once have felt I later realized
came from the Bruderhof's own self-righteous, mean-
spirited, legalistic and shaming attitude towards me.
God's overwhelming love and forgiveness has been
the ocean in which I have surfed throughout my life."
Today, I am left with memories of what might have
been, regrets, and unanswered questions. The
"unbrotherly and ungodly" outside world recognizes a
child's need for both parents, even if they no longer
live together. The break-up of a marriage does not
necessarily cut off a father from further contact with
his child, especially today when there is greater
attention being paid to father-child bonding. Xavie
desperately needed her father as a little girl. Why did
the Bruderhof place their 'noble' witness to the
sanctity of marriage before the emotional needs of a
little child? This is the Pharisaic spirit that divides
and disrupts families; an abuse of religious power.
The brotherhood purposefully punished me for
divorcing Rosemary by placing a wall around Xavie. Yet I
know as a certainty that Xavie's greatest desire as a
little girl was to see her Daddy, even if only for a few
visits every summer. I cannot understand this cruelty.
When we began to publish KIT, the Bruderhof sent
representatives to contact us. My wife Judith and I were
allowed to visit our grandchildren, Dorie and Gareth,
during our travels east in the summer. But with each of
the three visits, the tension perceptibly increased.
Nothing was spoken, but the adults became more distant.
Last summer we were not allowed to visit Woodcrest, but
instead the children were brought to my sister's convent.
We were told the we would be limited to one visit per
year. As of this June, we have been informed that they
no longer will allow us ANY visits. I quote the letter
from our grandchildren's father:
"Margarita and I do not feel we can responsibly
allow any more visits. You are supporting a cause
which is in opposition to the lifestyle we have
chosen and the values which we wish to impart
to our children. We cannot in good conscience
subject our children to aninfluence which is
diametrically opposed to our faith and beliefs.
We know you will find this difficult, but it is
the inevitable outcome of your own actions. We
also want it to be clear that this decision is our
own, and was not at the request or suggestion
of any other person. As you may recall, it was
also Xavie's wish, when she was alive, to not allow
any visits. signed, John and Margarita Rhodes."
Although John Rhodes insists that this is his
personal wish, I believe that in the Bruderhof there is
no difference between the individual will and the group
will. This seems a recent policy decision by the
brotherhood, because we have received reports of many
other KIT newsletter readers being asked to choose
between their relationship with ex-members via KIT and
visiting their family in the community. This despite, I
might add, a guarantee we received in writing from their
elder Johann Christoph Arnold dated November 5, 1990,
that, to quote his own words, "No one is forbidden to
read or write to KIT, or to meet with others in whatever
way they wish."
I close my remarks with a grandfather's plea to
the Bruderhof representatives present. As a Christian
community enjoined to serve as a vessel for the Holy
Spirit, the Bruderhof professes an ethic of universal
brotherhood, charity and Christian love. But you will be
known and judged by your fruits. If in the name of love,
you divide families and act in unbrotherly ways, all will
see the poisoned fruits of your claim to follow the
example of Jesus. I ask that you return to the highest
ideals of your tradition, to find a way to make peace
with those sincere men and women in the world who seek
loving connection with their families who remain in the
Bruderhof.
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