Another Letter

My very faithful brother in Christ, grace and peace be with you.

Chosen brothers in the Lord, I have nothing particular to write to you, except that I wish you would write to me how far the choosing of the brothers in Waterhorne and of Lebe Pieters has progressed. Not that I want to hinder the choosing of Lebe; but I would have been glad to have a conversation with him before he enters the office of bishop, for my soul is troubled about what passed between us last year.

O brother Rein, if only I could speak with you for half a day and tell you a little of my affliction, sorrow and sadness, and also of the great concern I still carry for the future of the church! What a soothing, welcome remedy that would be to my sorrowful soul! As it is, I must bear it all myself. If the almighty God had not preserved me last year, as well as now, I would already have lost my mind; for there is nothing on earth my heart loves more than the church, and yet I must live to see this sad affliction come upon her. I think much, yet I write and say only a little. Help me pray that I may find refreshment and may yet see a gracious outcome, with all afflicted souls.

Brothers, beware of discord; foster love and unity with sincerity; keep company with the peaceful; use few words, and in every respect show yourselves to be children of God. O chosen brothers! Come and join your ardent prayers for me in my great affliction. I beg you, for Jesus’ sake, let my affliction be buried with you; but if you should speak about it to anyone, then know with whom you are speaking. If all hearts were pure, all tongues seasoned with salt, and all the mistakes of last year honestly and truly acknowledged, how soon I would be found a cheerful man. Now, now the Lord will be my Comforter. May the poor church be saved! O brothers, let us pray! I trust that you will not be offended at what I wrote in my last letter, to a private brother, about the sixty dollars a year. I took the liberty of writing so, for I do need it every year. The merciful Lord will send them to me. He knows where from. Greet the pious with the peace of the Lord. My daughters greet you. The God of all grace be with you, most beloved brother, and with all the pious, forever, Amen.

If something should be sent to help me, send it at the first opportunity; for slaughtering time will soon be here, and I have little to buy with. O brothers, do not think hard of me for it; it is necessity that compels me to do so.

Your unworthy and affectionate brother,

MENNO SIMON.

September 1st.