C.J. Dyck. Radical Reformation. History of the Anabaptist-Mennonites

· Germany, Persecution, History, Books, Mennonites, Salvation

K. J. Dyck (ed.)

The history of the emergence and development of Anabaptism

Published by the Central Committee of Mennonites in Russia, Moscow, 1995

Preface
Chapter 1. The Church before the Reformation
Chapter 2. The Emergence of Anabaptism in Switzerland
Chapter 3. Persecution and Consolidation
Chapter 4. Central Germany and Moravian Anabaptism
Chapter 5. Pilgram Marpeck and Anabaptism in South Germany
Chapter 6. Anabaptists in the Netherlands
Chapter 7. Anabaptist-Mennonites in Northern Europe
Chapter 8. Summary of Anabaptist Views

Preface

Here is the Russian translation of eight chapters from the book “Introduction to Mennonite History,” first published in English in 1967 with the subtitle “A Popular Sketch of Anabaptist and Mennonite History” edited by K. J. Dyck, professor of church history at Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary in Elkhart, Indiana, USA. A number of authors contributed to the book: K. J. Dyck, John H. Yoder, John S. Oyer, Walter Klaassen, William Keeney. They are not only well-known specialists, but also members of Mennonite churches in North America, descendants of Anabaptists and Mennonites. Some of them trace their lineage back to German-Swiss Mennonites, and some — to Dutch-Russian ones. The original book, from which these first eight chapters are taken, traces the path of various Mennonite communities up to the present time.

Briefly, the story of the Mennonites’ origins is as follows: the first Anabaptists in their homelands of North Germany and Holland were subjected to severe persecution; many fled eastward and settled in the Vistula delta, in what is now Poland. At the end of the 18th century, a significant portion of Mennonites, dissatisfied with the authorities’ constant attempts to conscript them into the army, responded, along with representatives of other confessions (Lutherans, Catholics, and others), to Catherine II’s invitation to move to Russia — to develop the vast steppe region in the south of the Russian Empire, located on the territory of present-day Zaporizhzhia Oblast.

Anabaptists in Switzerland and South Germany also endured severe oppression, and in the mid‑17th century many of them emigrated to America. They first settled in Pennsylvania, then gradually spread farther south and west across the continent.

At the end of the 19th century, Anabaptist‑Mennonites in America and Russia began sending missionaries to proclaim the Gospel in Africa, India, and other Asian countries. And now, with the world Mennonite population at one million, there are no fewer brothers and sisters in the countries of Africa and the Asia‑Pacific region than in Europe, America, and Russia.

Returning to the fate of the Russian Mennonites, one cannot fail to note that by the end of the 19th century their numbers had reached nearly 150,000, with 3/5 of them still residing in the southeastern regions of Ukraine, and the remainder in prosperous farming communities in the southern and central Volga region and southwestern Siberia. True, between 1874 and 1878 approximately 18,000 Mennonites emigrated to North America in response to the policy of “Russification” of the empire’s foreign population carried out by Alexander II. When the authorities began to question their right to exemption from military service, as well as the right to teach in their schools in German, the Mennonites, sensing a looming threat to their traditional way of life, chose to leave Russia.

In the period after the 1917 revolution, many Mennonites fell victim to the civil war that broke out in the country. Hundreds of farms, especially in Ukraine, were looted and burned, and many Mennonite farmers were killed. In 1923 a new wave of emigration began for the Mennonites. During this period, another 22,000 Mennonites left Russia. Most of them went to Canada, which had begun opening its doors to new settlers, and some traveled even farther — to South America, to Paraguay.

In the 1930s, during Stalin’s collectivization, hundreds of the brethren who remained in Russia were arrested and shot, or exiled to remote areas in the east of the country. After Hitler’s Germany attacked Russia, a mass relocation of all “suspicious elements” (which included Mennonites along with Germans, Crimean Tatars, and many others) to the east began. However, the Soviet authorities did not manage to fully carry out this plan — many “undesirable elements,” including 35,000 Mennonites, fled westward with the retreating German troops. Twenty thousand of them were later captured by Soviet forces, forcibly returned to Russia, and sent to Siberian camps, where very many perished. As for the fifteen thousand who remained in Europe, with the help of the Mennonite Central Committee (USA) they were able to gather together in refugee camps and then emigrate to Canada and South America.

Beginning in 1971, when a certain easing of the political climate in the country became apparent, many Russian Mennonites who had relatives and friends in the West began leaving the USSR for Germany, and by now their number has exceeded 100,000. Thus, only about 10,000 Mennonites remain in Russia today, living mainly in the Urals, as well as in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan.

And the Mennonite Central Committee we just mentioned, also known by its abbreviated name MCC, was organized in America in 1920 in response to a request for help from brethren in Russia who were suffering from hunger and hardship caused by the civil war. The aid was prompt and very substantial. Such a quick and generous response is explained not least by the fact that many American Mennonites were themselves emigrants from Russia. Having successfully resolved one task, the committee did not disband but continued working to assist people suffering from the consequences of wars and famine in various corners of the globe. At present, about 1,000 voluntary MCC workers serve in hot spots in 50 countries around the world.

Regarding the Mennonite Central Committee’s involvement in providing aid to Russia, one should first of all mention the publication of the 15-volume Barclay commentary on the New Testament, begun jointly with the Baptist World Alliance in 1979. An 18-volume commentary on the Old Testament has now also come out of print. The total cost of this gigantic publishing project reached 800,000 dollars. The bulk of the 33-volume sets of the annotated Bible were distributed, often free of charge, in communities of the Evangelical and Russian Orthodox Church throughout Russia and the former Soviet republics.

Moreover, since there exists a very limited amount of Anabaptist-Mennonite literature in Russian, ongoing translation into Russian is being done of booklets from the “Mennonite Faith” series and collections of historical stories by Cornelia Lehn about Christian martyrs and peacemakers.

The preparation for printing of this present book is yet another step in this direction. We take pride in the shared Christian heritage that unites us with Orthodox believers, Catholics, and many Protestants (Lutherans, Anglicans, Reformed, etc.), but at the same time we also recognize the responsibility to proclaim those “distinctives” of Christianity that the Lord has entrusted specifically to us, the Anabaptists.

At the same time, we would like to emphasize that even these “distinctives” constitute the common possession of the one Church of our Lord Jesus Christ. Indeed, in one form or another our “distinctive” traits can be traced throughout the entire history of Christianity — sometimes as a certain tendency within one or another dominant church, and sometimes as an opposition movement. In particular, a large portion of these principles can be found in the monastic tradition, as well as in later emerging religious communities — the Moravian Brethren, Quakers, Methodists, Plymouth Brethren, Pentecostals, and the Salvation Army. The same principles also occupy no small place in the life of Catholic charismatic communities and free Christian churches that constantly spring up in Latin American countries.

We are glad that we have the opportunity to present this book to our friends in Russia during this difficult time of change, a time of re-evaluation of values, the collapse of old structures, and the painful search for new paths of development. We pray that these time-tested truths, for which many Anabaptists (and other Christians before and after them) gave their lives, might light the way into the future. For what a great honor and joy it is to live “following Christ,” to share with brothers and sisters in the church everything you have, to overcome difficulties with humility and love, what a joy to realize that above all we are citizens of the Kingdom of God, not servants of transient values and vain strivings of the world! Moscow Mennonite Centre, Mennonite Central Committee in Russia, March 1994

Chapter 1: The Church before the Reformation

THE REFORMATION is a social movement in sixteenth-century Europe aimed at reforming the church. Sometimes the day of its beginning is called October 31, 1517, when Martin Luther put forth ninety-five theses about the church during a debate at the University of Wittenberg, but at times historians cite other dates and circumstances as the starting point. The events that gave rise to the Reformation were caused by spiritual reasons, but in combination with the political, social, and economic processes of the time, they led to fundamental changes in the life and thought of the Western world and marked the end of the Middle Ages and the beginning of the modern era.

At the heart of the Reformation was an ardent desire to reform the church. In the Middle Ages, church councils, clergy, kings, and laity loudly demanded an end to corruption and the excessive secularization of the church of the Body of Christ. Those who saw covetousness as the greatest sin called for economic reforms; those who condemned the scandalous illiteracy and immorality of the clergy demanded reform of the priesthood; and those who saw the root of all evil in the pride and grandeur of the papacy demanded more frequent convocation of church councils to control it.

By the year 1500, many proposals for reform had been sounded, but they were not sufficiently coordinated among themselves regarding the goals, objectives, and methods of implementation. Nevertheless, common to them all was the conviction that the reform should contribute to the return of the church to its original purity. In this sense, the Reformation was a movement based on the values and ideals of the past. At some point the church had fallen, and now it had to return to the virtue it once possessed. At which exact moment in history this happened remains a debated question, but the fact of the fall itself was contested by very few. A brief excursion into the historical period of the church’s life preceding the Reformation will help us understand more clearly the drama of the events that took place in the early sixteenth century and the influence they continue to have on us today.

Persecutions

Soon after Pentecost, the church founded by Jesus Christ came under persecution. Baptism by water and the Holy Spirit gave way to baptism by blood. Hated by the Jews and suspected by the Romans of being enemies of “the human race” /Tacitus/, His disciples saw in the cross a symbol of new life in Christ: “They were stoned, they were sawn in two, were tempted, were slain with the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, afflicted, tormented—

of whom the world was not worthy—they wandered in deserts and mountains, in dens and caves of the earth” /Heb. 11:37, 38/.

But “the blood of the martyrs is seed” /Tertullian/. In the middle of the second century, the Epistle to Diognetus reminded the persecutors that they were waging a struggle doomed to failure: “Do you not see that the more they are punished, the more they increase? This is beyond human power; it is a demonstration of God’s power and proof of His presence.” Fifty years later, Tertullian answered critics of the Christian faith with these words: “We are not what we were yesterday, and we fill everything you possess—cities, dwellings, fortresses, villages, markets, and also camps, tribes, palaces, the senate, the forum.” (Apology, 37:4). The church spread everywhere—from North Africa to Europe, from Rome to Asia Minor and India; it became an integral part of the life of the population in each region, and more and more people joined it.

Emperor Constantine

When Constantine became emperor of Rome at the beginning of the fourth century, a new era dawned for the church. Suddenly everything changed: now Christians were the emperor’s favorites, and pagans faced persecution. Those who had been persecuted just a few years earlier under Emperor Diocletian now gained access to the state treasury and could build churches and request funds to support clergy.

Sunday was declared a day of rest and worship. Emperor Constantine directed the activities of the clergy through his edicts, although he himself was not baptized. Using state power, he strengthened discipline in the church. At state expense, he convened church councils to consider questions of faith and often not only attended but also presided over them. Constantine understood that the church could not be destroyed by persecution, and to unify the empire he needed an acceptable state religion; moreover, he was personally attracted to the Christian faith. But whatever the reasons, from that moment on church and state began walking hand in hand. Although frequent conflicts arose between them later, no one seriously questioned this union of church and state under Emperor Constantine, or the Constantinian synthesis, for a thousand years. A Christian society composed of people who received civil rights by birth and were baptized as infants in the Christian rite seemed the fulfillment of God’s plan for humanity.

Nevertheless, it was precisely this state of affairs that the Anabaptists of the sixteenth century perceived and defined as the fall of the church. The church now faced an immensely difficult task: to make society Christian and to draw into church life masses of people who became church members unconsciously, often without their knowledge. This highly dubious undertaking was doomed to failure almost from the start, as tens of thousands of Goths, Vandals, and other barbarian tribes invading from the north penetrated the territory of the Roman Empire and, consequently, the church. By 500 AD, all of Italy was under the rule of the Gothic king Theodoric /d. 526/. Almost all of Northern Europe was ruled by King Clovis /d. 511/, who had embraced Christianity. Clovis, like Constantine, believed that God had given him victory in a decisive battle. Soon the church was filled with people who were considered Christians but in essence remained pagans. Outwardly, the church flourished. The fading glory of the crumbling Roman Empire cast its glow upon the papal throne. As the spiritual successors of the apostle Peter and the political heirs of the Roman emperors who had moved to Constantinople, the bishops /popes/ of Rome soon became the most powerful men in Europe. They received the greatest revenues, commanded the largest armies, were served by the most distinguished scholars, and enjoyed unquestioned authority, because people believed that the Roman pontiffs were the sole lawful representatives of God on earth, the continuators of the work of Saint Peter.

Double Morality

Of course, there were opponents of the church’s worldliness. Hermits appeared, living in deserted and desolate places, torturing their flesh to free the spirit and unite it with God. Monks gathered together and built monasteries, where they fled from sinfulness and worldly temptations, giving themselves to unceasing prayer and fasting.

But instead of calling Christians to imitate their self-denial, the church numbered these few among the saints. The life of these saints did not awaken in people a need for repentance, and impenitence fostered the development of a double morality. A peculiar system of accounting for righteous and unrighteous deeds emerged, so that the righteousness possessed by these saints was transferred to those who were unable or unwilling to lead a life pleasing to God. Soon ordinary laypeople were no longer expected to achieve the spiritual and moral feats attained by holy ascetics or clergy.

Attempts at Renewing the Church

In the Middle Ages, attempts were made at church reform, which had a certain influence on the life of the church. However, these measures only aggravated the deeply rooted ills of the church. Among these reforms, mention may be made of the Rule of Benedict, which helped improve life in monasteries after the sixth century. At the beginning of the seventh century, Gregory the Great developed new forms of worship and sent missionaries to England, and in the eighth century a group of missionaries went from England to the continent under the leadership of Boniface. In the ninth century, Emperor Charlemagne, marked by great religious zeal but lacking particular reforming abilities, did everything possible to breathe new life into the church. In the tenth century, monastic reforms, of which the Cluny monastery was the expression, affected most monasteries in Europe; in the eleventh century, priests were forbidden to marry, in order to prevent the formation among them of a kind of caste in which wealth and power would be inherited. In the twelfth century, Franciscans, Dominicans, and other monastic orders began to minister, teach, and preach directly among the people. In the thirteenth century, Innocent III convened a council to reform the church, while Thomas Aquinas was developing a theological system by which all church traditions were reduced to a single comprehensive faith. To historians of later times, all these events seemed so impressive that they called the thirteenth century the greatest of all centuries, the century of true faith.

But none of these reforms gave the church a new direction, although outwardly its power over the world continued to increase. By the ninth century, for example, almost half of the land in Europe was under the control of the church, which therefore considered itself all the more responsible for the common well-being. It became more and more difficult for the church to restrict itself to spiritual matters, leaving the solution of worldly problems to the state authorities. By the twelfth century, the power of the church was almost all-embracing, and little happened without its consent. Princes and statesmen, bankers and scholars submitted to its will. Just as the moon shines with the reflected light of the sun, so the glory and greatness of the state were merely a reflection of the still greater glory and greatness of the church, as was said at the time.

The Crusades

But the triumph of the church became the beginning of its defeat. Filled with religious greatness, Pope Urban II in 1096 proclaimed a crusade for the liberation of the Holy Land from the Turks: now instead of fighting one another, he allowed Christians to fight the “enemies of the faith of Christ.” The sword became a missionary instrument of the church. Full remission of sins was promised to all who went to fight, and right up to the thirteenth century, human streams by tens of thousands rushed to war.

In 1212, there was even a children’s crusade. Rich people, as well as those who could not go on a campaign, bought indulgences guaranteeing them remission of sins, just like those who set out to fight for the Holy Land.

This practice was the direct cause of Martin Luther’s protest in 1517. The crusades led to a stiffening of the life of the church. In 1208, Innocent III proclaimed a crusade within Europe itself against the Cathar sect in France. When a crusader asked how to distinguish a heretic Cathar from a true believer, he was ordered to kill everyone, because the Lord would recognize His own when they knocked on the gates of heaven.

Late Medieval Piety

More and more people called for church reform. Late medieval piety clung desperately to the system of imposing penances, or ecclesiastical punishments. Plague, wars, and superstitions forced everyone to dream of a guaranteed way to avoid hell. And that, indeed, the church offered in abundance. Woodcut engravings were the Bible for ordinary people, but printed Bibles were also available, and they were read.

At least twenty-five editions of the Gospels and Apostolic Epistles, twenty-two editions of the Psalms, and eighteen editions of the entire Bible were printed before 1517 in Germany. Even greater interest was aroused by the relics of saints, and pilgrimages to places of veneration and shrines often assumed epidemic proportions. In 1509 Frederick the Wise possessed 5,005 relics, each of which, when contemplated, delivered one from purgatory for “a hundred days.” In Wittenberg one could obtain an indulgence that shortened the time in purgatory by five hundred thousand years. In the city of Halle one could buy an indulgence for three million years. Among the holy relics one could mention hay from the manger in Bethlehem, twigs from the burning bush of Moses, the thumb of Saint Anne (the mother of Mary), a piece of Jesus’ swaddling cloth, and a feather from the wing of the Archangel Michael. The endless repetition of liturgies also brought peace and guaranteed unimpeded entry into heaven.

As noted in one women’s monastery, there they served 6,455 masses, sang 3,550 psalms, prayed 200,000 times using rosaries, sang the Te Deum 200,000 times, the Lord’s Prayer 63,000 times, and how many times the Ave Maria was said is impossible to count.

Special hopes were placed on the help of saints. It was believed that a certain saint protected against each ailment. Saint Vitus, for example, delivered from epilepsy, Saint Denis helped with headaches and healed from rabies (hydrophobia). People knew which of the countless saints to turn to in time of need. But no one was invoked as often as Mary, veneration of whom grew incredibly in the twelfth and later centuries. The piety of the people needed the immaculate virgin Mary, the intercessor for people before the sinless Christ. Mary was considered the second Eve, because through the disobedience of the first, the coming of Christ became necessary, whereas the obedience of the second Eve (Mary) made it possible. No one was surprised by miracles; it seemed they happened daily in the lives of simple and God-fearing people. It was hard to determine which was stronger: fear of death or fear of hell. The devil and his temptations became the predominant theme in literature, art, and conversations among people. He was the true rival of God in the struggle for possession of the soul of the unfortunate sinner. Some people, of course, did not attach great importance to this, but very many were afraid. They thought that the end of the world was near, and God seemed far away; people now strove more for personal, rather than church-established, relationships with God.

Preparation of the Way

The Reformation did not come as a surprise, but no one expected that it would shake the very foundations of Europe. The influence exerted by the Crusades and the Renaissance, the rise of national consciousness in the countries of Europe and its inevitable clash with the international papal church, the corruption of the clergy and the church itself, the growing anxiety of the people, all foretold that a great storm was about to break out.

At this time, of great importance were the people and movements that prepared the way for such a significant spiritual breakthrough as the Reformation turned out to be. The reformers of the sixteenth century relied on these people and movements, thanks to which their own activity later became possible. We recall, for example, Francis of Assisi (d. 1226), who became a living reproach to the greed and wealth of the church and who personified in his life what it means to be a disciple of Christ. We also remember Girolamo Savonarola, hanged in Florence in 1498 because of his sermons. And there were many others!

Among them were three men and two groups of people whose thoughts and actions proved especially fruitful in preparing the way for the Reformation. These men were Peter Waldo, John Wycliffe, and Jan Hus; the groups consisted of the mystics and the humanists. Waldo, Wycliffe, and Hus not only had steadfast convictions but were also men of action. The mystics and humanists were not reformers, but their spiritual and intellectual leadership prepared the way for the men of action and created a mood in the minds of people that made reform possible. And now we move on to a brief account of these pioneers.

Peter Waldo (d. 1218)

In 1176, a minstrel’s song awakened the deepest feelings in the heart of Waldo, a wealthy French merchant from the city of Lyon. Asking a theologian what was the best path to God, he heard in reply a quotation from Matthew (19:21): “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me.” From this verse, a new life began for Waldo. He sold all his property, deciding to become as poor as Jesus and the apostles had been. His wife and family received a sum sufficient for their living. Then he began to study the New Testament, reading favorite passages from memory to anyone who was ready to listen, accompanying the reading with his own interpretation. Within a year, others joined him, and this group eventually came to be called the “Waldensians.” They called themselves “the poor in spirit” and in 1179 they asked the Third Lateran Council to permit them, laypeople, to preach. This was denied them, but they believed that God was impelling them to continue their activity regardless, and so for almost 700 years they were subjected to persecution. Only in 1848, when they began to live in large communities, were they granted relative freedom.

The foundation of the Reformed movement was a love for Holy Scripture and the Reformers’ desire to put into practice what they read. Church members studied the Bible together in small group meetings. In their writings, the Word of God is called «…salvation for the poor soul, a life‑giving drink for the weak, food for the hungry, teaching for the true, comfort in sorrow, the removal of slander, and a bond with virtue. And just as those under enemy attack seek refuge in a fortified stronghold, so persecuted saints flee to Holy Scripture. In it they find weapons against heresies, armor against the wiles of the devil, the call of the flesh, and worldly glory.» (Quoted in Leonard Veiduin, The Reformers and Their Stepchildren. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1964, p. 143 note 1).

They paid special attention to the New Testament and urged people to follow the words of Jesus given in Matthew 5, 6, and 7, and they came to be called “people of the Sermon on the Mount.” And because they were convinced that Scripture contains the answer to everything people need to know, they traveled two by two throughout Europe, preaching, witnessing, and suffering for Christ’s sake. The disregard for Scripture on the part of Roman Catholicism was for them proof that the church had actually departed from the faith.

In the era preceding the Reformation, the Waldensians considered themselves not Protestants but Christians who embraced the Word of God with all their hearts. The Waldensians rejected the Mass, purgatory, and participation in war as contrary to the Bible, but they still observed the rite of infant baptism. They believed that every Christian, man or woman, is called to bear witness to the Christian faith by living out its requirements and preaching it. The witness of these laypeople was so effective that long before the Reformation a prominent Catholic figure wrote: «A third of all Christians, if not more, attend the illegal assemblies of the Waldensians, and in their hearts these people are Waldensians.» (Quoted in Ibid., p. 173). Numerous attempts to historically link the Anabaptists with the Waldensians proved unsuccessful, yet through them the spiritual ground was being prepared for the events that followed in the sixteenth century.

John Wycliffe (d. 1384)

John Wycliffe, “the Morning Star of the Reformation,” largely prepared the way for Martin Luther and other reformers. Wycliffe was a professor at Oxford University and became a reformer only in the last decade of his life. He had long held that the church should be poor, as the apostles were poor, and that Christ had given it only authority to decide spiritual matters. But in 1374, during a meeting with representatives of the pope in Bruges, he abandoned all hope of achieving reform through church councils and the clergy.

Upon returning to London, he called for the reformation of the church, using force if necessary. At the same time, Wycliffe demanded that Holy Scripture be preached to the people, since it was the only sure foundation for reform: «Holy Scripture is the highest authority for every Christian; it is the standard of faith and of the perfecting of all humanity.» (Quoted in Matthew Spinka (ed.), Advocates of Reform, Philadelphia: Westminster Press 1953, p. 26). Because Wycliffe based his hope for reform on the people’s reception of the Word of God, he urged them to memorize long passages and recite them from memory as they traveled through the country. These poor English preachers, or “Lollards” as they were called, were truly itinerant evangelists.

After studying the Bible, Wycliffe came to the conclusion that the church did not need a pope. The church, he said, consists of those whom the Lord chooses for salvation. He also rejected the papal interpretation of the Eucharist regarding the real presence of Christ’s flesh and blood, saying that the bread and wine are symbols of Christ’s deeds and grace. He considered indulgences, purchased for the forgiveness of sins, to be a work of the devil, and he asserted that priests should marry. The ministry of clerics pleases God, he said, only if they lead righteous lives; those who live unrighteously should be removed from office by the state.

Wycliffe had powerful and noble patrons who desired the success of his work and pursued their own interests; they protected him from his enemies, and Wycliffe died a natural death. Later, his remains were dug up, burned, and the ashes thrown into a river, as was often done to heretics. Wycliffe’s books suffered the same fate. Nevertheless, like the Waldensians, he was a pioneer in restoring the authority of Holy Scripture in the life of the church. He drew the attention of society and pointed the way to combat corruption in the church. He was also one of the greatest English preachers before the Reformation. Later, in 1572, a woodcut was printed in Bohemia showing Wycliffe striking a spark, Hus kindling coals from it, and Luther holding high the blazing torch. A monument in the city of Worms, Germany, depicts Luther surrounded by four figures—Waldo, Wycliffe, Hus, and Savonarola.

Jan Hus (d. 1415)

Jan Hus rose to prominence fairly quickly. During his time as a professor at Prague University, he became the leader of the reform movement in Bohemia; he was guided by Wycliffe’s writings but placed no great hope in the state’s ability to carry out reform. Moreover, Hus promoted a deeper understanding of the nature of the church. Like Wycliffe, he urged people to study Scripture and based his arguments on it, yet unlike Wycliffe, he did not reject church tradition so categorically.

His sermons and calls for reform were extraordinarily popular. But due to his denunciations of the papacy, clerical corruption, and other vices of the church, especially the sale of indulgences, Hus lost the support of the bishops and King Wenceslaus. He took refuge with friends in the countryside and through his writings further advanced the cause of reform. The church, he asserted, is not where the pope sits, but where two or three are gathered in Christ’s name. In other words, it is not the pope but the Holy Spirit who gives the church its unity. The pope has no power to excommunicate or to grant people access to heaven; the keys of heaven are entrusted to the church, which consists of believers and is guided by the Holy Spirit, and this authority is exercised through preaching, witness, conciliar life, church discipline, and the Eucharist.

Hus was accused of heresy and of undermining the pope’s authority, and he repeatedly expressed his desire to defend his views at a church council. When an ecumenical council was convened in Constance to end the schism, Hus was summoned to appear, and he resolved to go. His friends warned him that his life was in danger, but he said:

“I entrust myself wholly to my Savior. I believe that He will send His Holy Spirit to strengthen me in His truth, so that I may face temptation, prison, and, if necessary, a painful death with courage.” (Quoted in Elgin S. Moyer, Great Leaders of the Christian Church, Chicago: Moody Press). Emperor Sigismund issued a safe-conduct for Hus, but upon arriving in Constance, he was thrown into prison. Instead of allowing him to present his teaching at the council, the council fathers appointed a judicial process against Hus as a heretic. Pope John, a dissolute man of whom it was said that he had been a pirate before his ordination, demanded his condemnation. Hus’s fate was sealed. From prison he wrote:

“It is better to die well than to live wickedly. One must not evade a sentence of death. To finish this life in the grace of God is to escape pain and suffering. He who fears death loses the joy of life. But above all stands truth. He who dies conquers, for no misfortune can harm one who is not subject to iniquity.” (Quoted in Harry E. Fosdick, Great Voices of the Reformation, New York: Modern Library, 1952, p. 41).

He was given one last opportunity to recant, but he refused. Then a crown bearing the image of three demons and the inscription “We consign your soul to the devil” was placed on his head, and he was led out of the city and burned at the stake. This took place in July 1415.

Jan Hus did a great deal to prepare the way for the Reformation, and 105 years later Martin Luther said, “We are all Hussites, though we do not realize it.” In the fifteenth century the Hussite wars devastated the country. Hussites were the followers of Hus who fought for religious and political independence. Crusades were proclaimed against them. In the end, the majority of Hussites made peace with Roman Catholicism, but some of them continued their struggle and came to be called the Bohemian Brethren (today known as the Moravian Brethren).

Mystics

Mystics—those men and women who practiced a religion of the heart and in their spiritual experience sensed the presence of God—exerted a significant influence on the thought and activity of the Reformers, as well as on the public life of the Middle Ages. The mystic sought union with God. Personal, direct experience was for him the highest authority in matters of faith. He did not reject the church with its clergy, sacraments, and traditions; all its rites and ceremonies could indeed assist the mystic on his spiritual pilgrimage, but they were not absolutely essential to him. Mystics believed that God is known through self-denial, contemplation, and intuition. They regarded love as the primary key to the knowledge of God. In the Middle Ages there were as many varieties of mysticism as there were mystics.

In Bernard of Clairvaux (d. 1153), sometimes called the father of Western mysticism, we see a person who held to the tenets of orthodox Catholic theology, who lost himself utterly in love for God, and who nonetheless was one of the most active reformers the church has ever known, completely devoted to serving others. Hugh (d. 1141) of the community of St. Victor near Paris was far superior in ability to those around him, yet his mysticism is clearly felt, for example, in his description of the three stages of faith. At the lowest stage a Christian believes what the church teaches because the church asserts that its teaching is true; at the second stage he believes this teaching because his reason tells him that it makes sense; and at the third, the highest stage, he believes it because he inwardly perceives that what the church teaches and his reason affirms is indeed true.

The views of Joachim of Fiore from Italy (d. 1202) differed sharply from the ideas of these two reformers. Unlike Waldo, Wycliffe, and Hus, who followed Holy Scripture, Joachim of Fiore believed that the Holy Spirit taught him everything directly, and he used the Book of Daniel and the Revelation of John to confirm his interpretation of history. The world was awaiting a new, third age, followed by a millennium in which God’s elect would hold supreme authority. This apocalyptic theology influenced many church figures who were counting the days left until the end of the age, even as late as the sixteenth century—a clear sign of the widespread conviction at that time that the end of all things was not far off.

A tremendous influence on Luther were the German mystics Meister Eckhart (d. in 1327) and Johann Tauler (d. in 1361), as well as an anonymous book titled “Theologia Germanica.” Luther was not a mystic, but the writings of these men and “Theologia Germanica” reflected a longing for God that he himself felt and that drew him into tireless searching for the gracious God. These mystics wished to remain faithful members of the Roman Catholic Church, but its corruption horrified them. They wanted to reform the church and believed that the only opportunity for this would arise through a deeper awareness of the need to follow one’s inner voice and the work wrought by the Holy Spirit. Their complete submission to the will of God influenced Luther’s later readiness to face any danger, regardless of personal consequences.

In the Netherlands, mysticism was especially honored among the “Brethren of the Common Life,” the most famous of whom was Thomas à Kempis (d. in 1471), author of “The Imitation of Christ.” Unlike the earlier mystics, the Brethren of the Common Life studied the Bible deeply. They strove for a personal reception of the gospel message, with the result that following the example of Jesus Christ became their highest goal. This mindset came to be called the “Devotio Moderna” (new devotion), and it greatly contributed to making Christ accessible and understandable to ordinary people. In the fifteenth century, the Brethren of the Common Life founded many schools that had a good reputation for their piety and level of education. Both Erasmus of Rotterdam and Luther studied under the Brethren, though neither found particular joy in it. Nevertheless, the influence of their education at these schools later manifested in their writings.

Humanists

It is quite probable that humanism, as a broad current in social life, had greater significance in preparing the Reformation than any other medieval movement. Humanism was the life and spirit of the Renaissance, which, in turn, represented the process of returning the culture of ancient Greece and Rome to society in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Humanism was part of that world; it called people to shift their gaze from heaven to the earth around them and rejected many of the superstitions and prejudices of its age. The Renaissance found expression in the flourishing of arts and sciences, in the poetry of Dante (d. in 1321) and Petrarch (d. in 1374), the sculptures of Donatello (d. in 1466), the architecture of Alberti (d. in 1472), the paintings of Leonardo da Vinci (d. in 1519), the works of Michelangelo (d. in 1564), and the creativity of many other outstanding masters. Humanism was born of a new spirit of freedom and thirst for knowledge, which met with broad financial and moral support from the papacy as the chief patron of the arts. Unfortunately, the same papacy stubbornly resisted similar changes and progress in the life of the church, especially if it perceived them as encroaching upon its authority and financial power.

Generally, humanists living north of the Alps paid more attention to religious questions than the humanists of Italy; they preferred to engage in studying the Bible rather than reading classical works. As Christians, humanists were also interested in the problems of the church, though they did not participate in the struggle to implement church reform programs; their weapons were the pen, a critically minded intellect, satire, humor, and deep erudition. In most major universities and cities one could find humanist circles, and everywhere they evoked various feelings: respect, hatred, fear, and love. In these circles, and indeed throughout Europe, no one was as highly esteemed as Erasmus of Rotterdam (d. in 1536), the “prince of the humanists.” In his youth, Luther almost idolized Erasmus, writing to him: “Where is one whose inner convictions are not influenced by Erasmus, whom he does not teach, whom he does not guide…?” But in 1524 Luther called him a chatterer and a skeptic when he realized that Erasmus was hindering the Reformation. And yet the well-known saying that Erasmus laid the egg that Luther hatched is essentially true.

Erasmus and Luther had much in common. Both denounced the corruption of the clergy and papacy, fought against the stifling influence of church dogmas; both asserted that church life should be based on Holy Scripture; both spoke of the significance of Christ for the believer. Yet much also divided them. Erasmus was a representative of intellectual circles, distinguished by refined politeness; Luther could be vulgar and dogmatic. Erasmus believed that reform should not destroy the unity of the church; Luther was a man of action, ready to die for his faith. Erasmus always preferred dialogue; the blood of martyrs did not flow in his veins; whereas Luther became a reformer as a result of exhausting inner struggle and the search for ways to justify faith. Erasmus was interested in the Reformation as a scholar observing from the outside. They also approached the essence of faith differently. Luther saw salvation primarily as the grace of God, while Erasmus perceived it as ethical morality—the imitation of Christ. Luther considered man a wretched sinner, while Erasmus, together with all humanists, stressed the inherent goodness in man. Of Luther it can be said that he asked: “What is the Bible?”

For all that, Erasmus personified the best that humanism had to offer. It seems that the Reformation would have been impossible without the humanists’ work of restoring the Holy Scriptures and studying the Bible. Their sharp pens spurred the church to action, whereas the activity of the reformers often provoked its opposition. The humanists gave the church spiritual depth by emphasizing inner religious experience, while the reformers frequently had to enter into conflicts over Christian doctrine or external problems of the church. Nevertheless, all the most prominent reformers had a humanistic education and were scholars; for example, Luther wrote considerably more works than Erasmus and during his university studies gained a reputation as a “learned philosopher,” but at a certain stage each of the reformers found himself directly and deeply involved in the life and problems of the church. As for how the humanists’ plan to gradually reform the church through improved education, criticism, and patient endurance might have been realized, we shall never know.

Lutheran Reformation

The center of the Lutheran Reformation was the city of Wittenberg in Germany, where from 1512 until his death in 1546 Martin Luther was a professor of theology at the local university. He traveled a difficult path of searchings and internal struggle for his faith before becoming a theologian, prophet, and reformer. He became gripped by the thought that a man must love God in order to be saved, but he himself could not love God: he feared Him terribly and constantly felt himself a sinner. Even the advice of friends, however sensible it might be, could not deliver him from the fear of God and the awareness of his sinfulness. He said that God was displeased with him and that if he died, he would go straight to hell.

In a fit of despair, he entered a monastery, in his words: “…against the wishes of my father, mother, God, and the devil.” He undoubtedly hoped that as a consecrated man he would learn to love God and find peace. However, doubts continued to torment him, though he fasted and prayed more than the other monks. As a result of his scholarly studies he became deeply imbued with the spirit of the Holy Scriptures and became a very knowledgeable and well-known university teacher. While reading the Epistle to the Galatians and the Epistle to the Romans, a flash of insight illuminated him. Once, as he sat in his little room in the tower, the true meaning of the Apostle Paul’s words in Romans 1:17 was revealed to him—“the righteous shall live by faith”; God is not angry with man, He loves him; not because of what man does for God, but because of what God does for man in Christ. Man is justified not by good works, but by faith in Christ. Realizing this, Luther was at last able to say: “Now I feel as though born anew, as if I am in paradise. All of Holy Scripture began to appear to me differently… This passage from Paul’s epistle seemed to me a gateway to paradise.”

This sense of God’s mercy lies at the foundation of Luther’s aspirations. He becomes an extremely busy man; he preaches, writes, exhorts, and is constantly traveling. He is ordered to come to Rome and appear before a court on a charge of heresy, but he remembers the fate of Hus and refuses to go. As a result, he is excommunicated and outlawed—that is, anyone may kill him as a heretic; yet he spoke to the people in a language they understood, and the people loved him. Luther defends his faith before the Emperor Charles and is forced to hide in the secluded castle of Wartburg, where he translates the New Testament from Greek into German, because he wants every German, every rural day laborer to be able to read the Bible. Later, he also translates the Old Testament. After his return to Wittenberg, under the protection of Elector Frederick the Wise, he sends out instructors and preachers to the churches to assist the clergy, who were poorly educated and barely acquainted with the Gospel. He writes catechisms for the churches and hymns that are still sung in many Protestant churches today. Soon the Gospel finds its way into the hearts of people who had not previously received it. Luther knows their spiritual needs and wants to bring them the truth he has discovered.

Opposition to Luther’s work came not only from Rome. Not all of Luther’s friends shared his views, as we see in the example of Erasmus. Another critic of his was Andreas Karlstadt (d. 1541); much of what he said was close to what the Anabaptists would assert a few years later. He believed that Luther in his preaching should devote more attention to the need to follow Christ in daily life, since many thought that the Reformation thesis of God’s mercy meant that good works were not so important if they believed in Christ. Karlstadt also rejected the taking of vows and did not regard the Eucharist as a sacrament in which the partaking of bread and wine contains saving power; he viewed it as a service in remembrance of Christ’s deeds. He forbade people to address him as “doctor” (as a scholar), saying that all are equal in the church of Christ. All of this caused Luther serious concern, but Karlstadt did not change his position. Thomas Müntzer (d. 1525), who in his reformatory demands went considerably further than Karlstadt, also gave Luther much trouble. He had become a pastor at Luther’s insistence, was a brilliant speaker, but easily inflamed by his own ideas and eloquence. Soon these ideas and the visions that came to him began to seem like direct instructions of the Holy Spirit, and he started relying on them more than on the Holy Scripture. When this caused a conflict with others who followed the Reformation principle of “Scripture alone,” he began holding meetings in the homes of his followers. The poor and the most destitute were particularly attracted by his sermons, which spoke of equality and freedom.

Among those who attended these gatherings were three men who became known as the “Zwickau prophets.” Zwickau is the name of the town from which they came, and they were considered prophets because, like Müntzer, they moved from Bible study to spiritual visions, which they eagerly shared with everyone. In 1521 they came to Wittenberg to prove to the Lutheran reformers that they needed to rely more on the Holy Spirit. They made a strong impression on some residents of Wittenberg, including Karlstadt; but when Luther learned of their activities, he hurried back to Wittenberg from his refuge in the Wartburg and promptly expelled them from the city. Afterwards it was even rumored that Müntzer declared he would no longer trust Luther, even if Luther ate a dozen Bibles, to which Luther replied that he would not trust Müntzer, even if Müntzer swallowed the Holy Spirit, feathers and all. Gradually Müntzer managed to attract large masses of peasants, who saw in him their liberator. From them he formed an army, on whose banner were depicted a red cross and a naked sword. Soon armed uprisings broke out everywhere, and the peasants began to take justice into their own hands. In doing so they believed they were contributing to the fulfillment of God’s plan to transform society, as they understood it from the sermons of Luther and his followers. The decisive battle took place on 15 May 1525 at Frankenhausen, where thousands of peasants perished in battle against a well-armed and well-trained army of the nobility. Müntzer himself was captured, tortured, and executed a few days later. In history these events are known as the Peasants’ War.

Karlstadt, the Zwickau prophets, and the Peasants’ War turned Luther against the Anabaptists who appeared in 1525. He indiscriminately considered anyone who thought the Reformation had not gone far enough to be a fanatic. When speaking of the Anabaptists, he used his favorite term “Schwärmer,” meaning an enthusiastic person akin to a beatnik; someone driven more by impulses and feelings than by sound reason. Possibly it was this word that prompted Stanisław Orzechowski, a sixteenth-century Polish theologian, to characterize the Anabaptists as “deranged.” In reality, the Anabaptists supported what Luther had accomplished, but they called the Reformation a half-measure. They did not believe that the biblical teaching corresponded to Luther’s understanding of the holy meaning of the Eucharist, or that baptism had saving power, but they were particularly dissatisfied with Luther’s definition of the church as the place where the Word of God is preached and the sacraments are rightly administered. For them, based on the New Testament, the church should consist only of believers. They voluntarily joined the church, not being counted as members through infant baptism, and of their own free will they committed to witnessing and submitting to church discipline, for the church was to them the Body of Christ. Although Luther had brought about important changes and, most importantly, restored the attitude toward the Gospel as God’s Word, they nevertheless thought that he had left unresolved the most fundamental problem of the church, one that had existed ever since Constantine united the church with the state.

The next chapter will recount the work of Ulrich Zwingli, who also relied on the state in his efforts to reform the church. As a result, the Anabaptists were compelled to go their own way. On many points they agreed with the Protestant Reformed. The Anabaptists did not intend to found separate movements; they only wanted to complete what others had left unfinished. The individuals and religious movements that prepared the Reformation thus paved the way for Anabaptism. Anabaptism cannot be properly understood if its rise is considered apart from these movements and apart from the rise of the Reformation itself. To this we may add that the history of the world church through the centuries is also part of the history of the Anabaptists.

Chapter 2 The Rise of Anabaptism in Switzerland

In Northern Germany, Wittenberg was considered the stronghold of Lutheranism. In Southern Germany and Switzerland, there were no cities that served as centers for the Reformation movement. The largest southern German and Swiss cities were independent states with their own legislation, commerce, and religious interests. Consequently, the work of those who embarked on the path of church renewal, and whom history has called “Reformed,” varied from region to region. Each of these men carried out the process of church reorganization in his own way and managed his relations with the city authorities and the Roman Catholic opposition in his own manner.

Despite all these differences, the most consistent and respected among the first-generation Reformed was Ulrich Zwingli (d. 1531) of Zurich. Zwingli became known for his criticism of the existing situation, in which young Swiss men went in an endless stream to other European countries to serve as mercenary soldiers. He was well acquainted with the famous humanist Erasmus of Rotterdam. By this time Zwingli was already a well-known preacher. In January 1519 he left his small parish in Einsiedeln and moved to Zurich, where he preached in the cathedral. His sermons gained extraordinary popularity; at every service he would invariably begin with the passage of Scripture where he had left off the day before. In doing so he became increasingly independent and critical of the traditional religious practices of Roman Catholicism, for which Luther even reproached him—a criticism that, however, did not make a great impression on him. His own scholarly researches and biblical preaching led him to new conclusions.

By mid-1522, it became clear that Zwingli and others holding similar views would demand such radical measures for church renewal that neither the bishop nor any other church figure would support them. How then would they reform the church? The answer was given by Zwingli himself in November of that year, when as a clergyman he separated from the Roman Catholic Church and refused to recognize its authority over him. Following this, the Council of Two Hundred, which was the governing body of the city of Zurich, immediately restored Zwingli to his former position, but now under its own authority. Formally, it was the government’s invitation to preacher Zwingli to serve it that marked the beginning of the Swiss Reformation and the establishment of a state church. Such actions, of course, led to critical remarks directed at the Council, which had appointed as a priest a man whom the Roman Catholic Church considered a heretic. To remove such an accusation and find official justification for its actions, the Council held a disputation in January 1523 to examine the issue. According to the customs of the time, a disputation was an official discussion conducted in accordance with accepted norms, which included the presence of an impartial chairman and a record of the speeches. The theses that Zwingli wished to defend were published in advance, and invitations were sent to all interested parties, including leading Catholic universities and the Bishop of Constance, to whose diocese Zurich belonged. Zwingli’s plan was to prove that his theses corresponded to the Word of God, but a real disputation did not take place, because Johann Faber, representing the bishop, declared that the Council of Zurich, formed for political purposes, could not serve as arbitrator in theological questions. And since it was not proven that Zwingli’s proposals contradicted the Word of God, the Council reaffirmed his appointment and instructed him to preach nothing but evangelical truths henceforth. All these actions—the appointment of Zwingli in November and the official confirmation of this appointment—were conservative in nature; they merely allowed him to continue his preaching. Yet they had revolutionary significance, for they proclaimed independence from the control of the Roman church hierarchy and the acquisition by the local political authority of the right to appoint preachers.

Resistance to Reform by the State

As Zwingli continued his preaching, and as a consequence of the Reformation process, it became increasingly difficult for the Council to accept all the demands raised in connection with the rediscovery of the Gospel. For example, the peasants living in the vicinity of Zurich asked to be freed from the taxes and church tithes that burdened them heavily, since Zwingli preached that tax collection was contrary to the Bible. Nevertheless, the Council refused to hear them and ordered them to continue paying the city and the monasteries.

At the end of summer 1523, Zwingli began to see more clearly how the traditional Roman Catholic mass could be replaced by an evangelical communion. To confirm the correctness of Zwingli’s teaching that the mass is not a sacrifice but a remembrance, and to clarify the subsequent demands of some of his disciples to remove all icons and statues from the churches, a second disputation was held on October 27–29. But the Council feared the consequences of abolishing the mass. It could not only appear sacrilegious to other cantons of the Swiss Confederation but also worsen political and economic relations with them. Thus it became clear that the Council was not in a hurry to allow external changes in religious practice, even if the theological understanding of the Lord’s Supper had been clearly expounded by Zwingli and accepted as true by the people and the Council.

In December, Zwingli finally decided to institute in his congregation the biblical communion under both kinds in remembrance of the Lord’s Supper, meaning that the cup was not reserved only for the priest. In a memorandum submitted to the Council, he announced his intention to celebrate the Lord’s Supper in this way on Christmas Day 1523, adding that upon the preachers would fall «a curse as on liars before the Word of God» if they did not do so. But the Council refused to consent. Nine days later, Zwingli was forced to submit a second address, from which the threat to implement his own Protestant communion had been removed, and the decision again rested with the Council. Following this, the Council decreed that this time no changes would be made to the order of the mass. Zwingli accepted such an indeterminate postponement so as not to worsen his relations with the Council.

The Dissatisfied Minority

Because of such delays and compromises, a sense of dissatisfaction arose among Zwingli’s most devoted disciples. Like him, they were also dissatisfied with the Council’s decision regarding taxes and church tithes in June 1523, only they expressed their dissatisfaction more openly. They were critical of the remnants of Roman Catholic ceremonial retained in the draft of a new reformed liturgy that Zwingli published in August. They objected to the clergy wearing the robe, believing that this supported the belief that the mass was a sacrifice, and they also objected to the performance of prescribed chants and prayers in the liturgy instead of the Lord’s Prayer. Zwingli accepted these criticisms, altering his proposals in some points and defending his position in others, while their fellowship remained open to the expression of all opinions.

After the discussion of the question of the Mass in the October disputation, these disciples were, however, even less willing than Zwingli for the Council to retain responsibility for determining how the Reformation should be carried out. The record of the disputation shows: “Conrad Grebel stood up and expressed the view that the priests, since they are all present here, should receive appropriate instructions regarding what decision to take on the matter of the Mass; [discussion] would be futile if nothing were decided about the Mass…

Zwingli: My lords [the Council] will decide how the Mass is to be dealt with from now on.

Simon Stumpf: Master Ulrich, you have no authority to hand over the decision on this matter to my lords, for the decision has already been made; the Spirit of God decides.

Zwingli: That is correct. Moreover, I will preach and act against them if they make a different decision. I am not handing the decision on this matter over to them. Nor do I hand over to them the right to pass judgment on the Word of God… This gathering was not intended to decide for or against the Word of God, but to determine from Scripture whether the Mass is a sacrifice or not. Afterwards they will consider how this should be carried out without causing unrest among the people.”

Simon Stumpf served as a priest in the small town of Höngg and was considered one of Zwingli’s most devoted followers. Conrad Grebel was a scion of a wealthy Zurich family, wasting his youth aimlessly at the universities of Vienna and Paris until Zwingli brought him to a strict and personal commitment to the cause of the Gospel. The exchange above is the first manifestation of their doubts as to whether the state would be a suitable instrument for reforming the church, but this time they accepted Zwingli’s explanations.

After the compromise that Zwingli made in December on the question of the Mass, these disciples realized that they were now in real opposition to Zwingli, who agreed that the Reformation should not advance beyond the limit that the state sought to set for it. Looking back and recalling the October disputation in light of subsequent events, Grebel could now say that the main compromise had already been made then: “The Word of God is overthrown, trampled, and enslaved by its most learned heralds.” Mocking the manner in which the disputations were conducted, Grebel put forward the following thesis: “He who believes, supposes, and asserts that Zwingli is doing his duty as a pastor should, believes, asserts, and thinks impiously.” From this moment on, Grebel and his friends began to express increasing distrust of the Council as a source of initiatives for the purification of the church. (The history of these early beginnings is more fully set forth by Fritz Blanke in the book Brothers in Christ (Братья во Христе). Scottdale, 1961, and by John H. Yoder in “The Turning Point in the Zwinglian Reformation” (Поворотный пункт в Реформации Цвингли), Mennonite Quarterly Review, XXXII (April, 1958) p. 128-40.)

Growing Divergences

Little is known about the group of Zwingli’s disciples who became disillusioned with their teacher during the period from December 1523 to the autumn of 1524. We know neither their number nor what they were doing. Only two events are known with certainty to have occurred during this period—the development of the idea of a radical transformation of the political organization of Zurich’s governing bodies, and the strengthening conviction that infant baptism is unacceptable.

Political Reorganization

While discussing the Council’s evasiveness and Zwingli’s unwillingness to move forward without awaiting the Council’s support, his disciples concluded that the best solution might be the election of a Council membership sympathetic to their cause. Conrad Grebel and Felix Manz approached Zwingli with a proposal whose gist was that the friends of the Reformation could form something like a political party. They were convinced that if Zwingli openly appealed to the population of Zurich to declare themselves for or against the Word of God, as he had spoken of in his sermons, the majority would be on his side. This majority could then elect a suitably disposed Council, and the Reformation could then advance with state support. This proposal met Zwingli’s wishes halfway. It did not require anything to be done against the state authority, nor did it assert that the state should not carry out the Reformation if its actions conformed to God’s Word. However, by establishing voluntary membership in such a “Reformation Party,” this proposal could in reality promote the creation of an independent religious institution, and thereby, in turn, free the church from dependence on the state.

Zwingli had two objections to this proposal. On the one hand, he was still convinced that the Council could be trusted to continue carrying out the Reformation program responsibly, albeit slowly. The main reason, however, lay in his growing concern about the consequences of a split in the community that could occur if the people composing that community were forced to make the decision themselves. The result could be that in one part of Zurich Roman Catholic worship would be conducted, and in another Protestant services, thus destroying the unity of the city, and with it, the unity of the church. This, in turn, would be an offense to God, for it would call into question his supreme authority and the clarity of his revealed will.

Infant Baptism

At the beginning of the Reformation, Martin Luther and Ulrich Zwingli, along with many of their younger associates, could not avoid a critical attitude toward the Roman Catholic rite of infant baptism. As a Christian sacrament with its own grace independent of the child’s comprehension, this rite was believed to cleanse the infant from original sin, ensure salvation in the event of early death, and prepare the child for a conscious Christian life. The principles of the Reformation questioned such an understanding in two respects. Regarding the person, the Reformers defined faith as an inner response to the need for humble trust and personal repentance. Faith must be sincere and personal in order to meet the conditions necessary for salvation. They asserted that no rite/sacrament could possess saving power.

Looking back at these events from our time, we must remember that when questions arose about whether it was correct to baptize children in infancy, no one knew what else could replace this rite. Some believed that baptism should be delayed until the child was three or four years old, so that he could at least be aware of the meaning of what was happening and remember it. Others held that parents, at the very least, should not baptize the child immediately after birth, but await an illumination that would tell them what to do instead of baptism. In any case, no one arrived at the only logical conclusion—that those who had been baptized in infancy, that is, the entire population of Europe at that time, must be baptized again in adulthood.

At the beginning of 1524 it was reported that two Zurich priests – Wilhelm Reublin and Johannes Brötli – in their sermons spoke against infant baptism and refused to baptize infants in their parishes. They did not ask permission from the city council but simply preached and acted according to their personal convictions; this was evidence that Zwingli’s disciples were becoming spiritually independent of their leader. It is noteworthy that this took place in the villages of Witikon and Zollikon, situated in the vicinity of Zurich, and not in the city itself, indicating the relative freedom of the rural inhabitants from the city authorities, though politically they were subject to them. Another proof of this relative freedom was that the city council found it difficult to impose its will in these rural localities, and the activity of these priests continued to be a source of unrest throughout the summer.

Autumn 1524

The first real explanation of their thinking after they rejected infant baptism, and the first manifestation of these people as a group that consciously denied Zwingli’s leadership, is found in three letters written by Conrad Grebel and his friends in September 1524. Having given up hope that Zwingli would succeed in renewed efforts to lead the Reformation process, they wrote letters to three major Protestant leaders – Martin Luther, Andreas Karlstadt, and Thomas Müntzer. Both Karlstadt and Müntzer were going through a stage of distancing themselves from the Lutheran movement because of their disappointment in it. Only the letter to Müntzer has survived, probably because no one could be found to deliver it to him. Luther and Karlstadt received the letters addressed to them, but no reply followed.

In the letter to Müntzer, in contrast to Zwingli’s caution and ‘moderation,’ they wrote mainly about the need to recognize God’s Word as the sole authority in matters of church reform. They read some of Müntzer’s writings criticizing false faith and the superficiality of religious ritual, and decided that they would find an ally in him. But at the same time they unequivocally rejected the position which, as they had heard, he held, asserting that physical violence might be used to advance the cause of the Reformation and in the interests of social justice toward the peasants. Therefore the letter stated that “…the Gospel and its adherents should not be defended by the sword, just as they should not defend themselves with it… True believing Christians are sheep among wolves, lambs led to the slaughter; they must accept baptism in anguish and suffering, in sorrow, persecution, and death; they must undergo the trial of fire and find eternal rest, not by killing physically, but by spiritually slaying their enemies. They also do not resort to the verbal sword, for with them all killing ceases…” (“Letters to Thomas Muentzer by Conrad Grebel and Friends” (Letters to Thomas Müntzer from Conrad Grebel and Brothers) in Spiritual and Anabaptist Writers, George H. Williams and Angel M. Mergal (eds.). Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1957, pp. 73-85.)

Furthermore, in baptism they emphasized two points – that the believer enters into membership and submits to the discipline of the Christian brotherhood, and that the acceptance of baptism reflects personal experience and the obligations the believer takes upon himself: “We consider that even an adult person should not be baptized unless he observes Christ’s rules about binding and loosing. Scripture gives us this definition: baptism means that through faith and the blood of Christ sins are washed away from the one who receives baptism, it changes his consciousness and he believes before and after baptism; it means that a person is dead and must be dead to sin, and that he enters into newness of life and spirit; and he will surely be saved if, proceeding from its meaning, he lives by faith through inner baptism; and just as water does not confirm or strengthen faith, as the learned men in Wittenberg assert, and does not bring comfort, nor is it the last resort on a deathbed. Baptism itself does not save…”

Citing “the right given by Christ to bind and loose,” they referred to Jesus’ instruction in Matthew 18:15–18, according to which Christians are accountable to one another for counsel, admonition, warning, and forgiveness. Baptism, therefore, signified a readiness to give or receive counsel, something a child is incapable of doing. The other meaning of baptism as a symbolic cleansing from sin made sense to them only if the spiritual reality to which it points were actually present. Beyond this, they held that water could neither cleanse nor save.

Breakthrough

By December 1524, the agitation over infant baptism had become a problem that threatened to erupt into social conflict if no attempt was made to resolve it. The city council therefore directed Zwingli to meet once a week with those who rejected infant baptism until the matter was settled. After two meetings on consecutive Tuesdays in December, Zwingli himself broke off these encounters because “it could become dangerous”—that is, he feared that discussing with those who did not acknowledge his spiritual authority might only worsen the situation. When the discussions were thus interrupted, Felix Manz sent a petition to the council, appealing directly to its members as a body of Christian leaders and urging them to resume the meetings, since working with Zwingli had become impossible. In response, the council scheduled a public assembly for 17 January, but the notices inviting people to the gathering already made it clear that the organizers did not intend an open examination of the issue: “Since some erroneously assert that small children should not be baptized until they reach maturity, the Lords—the Great, Small, and Grand Councils of the city of Zurich—declare that all … are to appear on Tuesday of next week …” (No 22, page 33 in Quellen zur Geschichte der Taufer in der Schweiz. Vol. 1, Zurich. Leonhard von Muralt and Walter Schmid (eds.). Zurich: S. Hirzel Verlag, 1952.)

The outcome of this pseudo‑discussion was therefore never in doubt. The council decreed that children should continue to be baptized, and that parents who persisted in refusing to allow their baptism were to be banished from the lands of Zurich. This decision, taken on 18 January 1525, meant that the matter would be settled by force against the religious minority, and that they would be subjected to persecution. A small circle of people seeking a reformation more in harmony with the Christian spirit had no more time for further careful study of the subject. Baptism was not their chief concern, nor did they place it at the forefront; it was, however, the point through which the line drawn by Zwingli ran. They had one week left to choose between compliance and exile. Burdened by this choice, they gathered at Felix Manz’s home, next to the church where Zwingli served, on the evening of 21 January to discuss what they should do. Of what followed it is reported: “ … they conferred until anxiety and distress seized their hearts. They bowed their knees before the Most High Lord God, who dwells in heaven, crying out to him who knows what is in human hearts and praying that he would make known to them his divine will and show them his mercy, for human flesh and blood and imagination offered them no guidance. They well knew, therefore, that they must pass through suffering and overcome it. After the prayer, George Cajacob stood up and implored Conrad Grebel, for God’s sake, to baptize him with the true Christian baptism, based on his faith and confession. And as he earnestly begged him to do this and even fell on his knees, Conrad baptized him, because no ordained minister was there to perform such a rite. When this had taken place, the others also desired that George baptize them, which he did at their request. Thus, in great fear of the Lord, they entrusted themselves to one another and summoned one another to gospel ministry, and they began to teach and hold fast to their faith. In this way their separation from the world and from sinfulness began.” (Quoted in Harold S. Bender, The Life and Letters of Conrad Grebel. Goshen, Indiana: Mennonite Historical Society, 1950, p. 137 in translation from Rudolf Wolcan (ed.) Geschicht-Buch der Hutterischen Brader. Wien: Carl Fromme, 1923, p. 35).

This testimony is probably the oldest of all existing Anabaptist documents. When we consider the significance of this event, we come to three conclusions. The first is that the event that took place that evening was caused by an emotional impulse, explained by anxiety and readiness to suffer under a deeply felt influence of the Holy Spirit. There was no prior calculation that “a breakthrough is possible through the baptism of adults,” and no strategic deliberation as to whether it was “timely to carry out this breakthrough.” The second conclusion we draw, noting the fact that this group respected the place where church leaders regularly met, and that Georg Kahakob /later known as Blaurock/ acted in this way only because of the absence of more authoritative clergy. (It should be noted that the reference to <169> there being no ordained clergyman <170> indicates a rather disparaging, not reverent, attitude toward <169> holy <170> ordination. This group included at least three priests ordained according to the Roman Catholic rite: Blaurock, Wilhelm Reublin, and Johann Brotli. Thus, this phrase actually means that since the brotherhood had not yet been established, there was no one authorized by the brotherhood to perform baptism.) The third conclusion is that the significance of this act lies not so much in the rite of baptism itself, as in the creation of a new visible church body, distinct from the established church controlled by the state, which entirely relates to the establishment of comprehensive medieval Catholicism. Therefore, the intention of the newly formed group was to establish a new form of church organization, as is evident from the phrase: “Thus began their separation from the world.” It should be remembered that both Zwingli and Luther at that time still celebrated Mass. They had only begun to explain what religious practice would be and how the Protestant church would be organized, but they had not made significant changes in worship and had not written a new confession of faith. Thus, this prayer meeting and the event that took place on January 21 on the eve of coming persecutions mark not only the beginning of Anabaptism, but also of Protestantism as a visible reality.

Chapter 3 Persecutions and Consolidation

On January 21 a meeting took place under the threat of persecution. For the first time it ended with the baptism of all its participants. The members of this group were soon called Anabaptists or “rebaptizers,” though they called themselves “brothers.” The brothers did not protest the Council’s decree directed against them, but made plans to spread their doctrine. The first church meeting was missionary. Everyone who had to leave Zurich went where they were known and where they could hope to be heard. For some, primarily merchants, this meant going northeast to St. Gallen, northwest to Basel, or southwest to Bern. In these cities the influence of the Reformation was already felt. For others it meant seeking refuge in the countryside, where repressive measures by the city authorities were not enforced with such strictness. Therefore, Johann Brotli and Wilhelm Reublin went north, to the area between Zurich, Waldshut, and Schaffhausen, while others headed east to Appenzell and west, to the area jointly administered by Zurich and Bern and, accordingly, not so strictly controlled by them. In the spring and summer of 1525, small groups of sympathizers were established in most of these places.

Hubmaier in Waldshut

Located on the north bank of the Rhine, only twenty miles from Zurich, the small town of Waldshut belonged to Austria and was part of the still firmly Catholic Holy Roman Empire. Its proximity to Schaffhausen and Zurich, however, helped it establish close ties with the religious movements in the Swiss cities. These ties were significantly strengthened after the arrival of Balthasar Hubmaier in Waldshut in 1521. Being a priest from southern Germany and a doctor of theology, he was well known for his sermons to the people in Regensburg and for his work at the University of Ingolstadt. Although after his arrival he did not show particular sympathy for the young Reformation movement, he soon became a close friend and collaborator of Ulrich Zwingli. By 1523 his sympathy for the Reformation cause was so obvious that the town of Waldshut itself began to arouse suspicion in the Austrian government.

Although Hubmaier considered Zwingli his friend and colleague, he was not his disciple in the full sense of the word, and moreover, in his judgments he was more independent than the young people surrounding Zwingli. Nevertheless, in 1523–24 he shared Zwingli’s critical attitude toward infant baptism and his desire to create a church organization in accordance with the Bible. Hubmaier did not participate in the discussion that took place at the end of 1524, followed by the Council’s decision of January 18, 1525 and the prayer meeting ending with the baptism of the brothers, but considered himself a friend of Zwingli and rejected infant baptism. In the spring of 1525, Wilhelm Reublin, preaching in the countryside south of Waldshut, also began to exhort members of Hubmaier’s church in the town, and some of them accepted baptism. At Easter, Hubmaier and the majority of the members of his brotherhood accepted baptism after confessing their faith. For the first time, a church organization joined the Anabaptist movement, and this time the authorities showed tolerance.

In December Waldshut was taken by Austrian troops and returned to Catholicism. Hubmaier was forced to flee, but in the months following Easter, he issued a number of writings on the subject of baptism and the church. However, most of his pamphlets were published much later. The first and most complete exposition of baptism from the standpoint of early Anabaptism, entitled “On the Christian Baptism of Believers,” was written by Hubmaier at a time when Zwingli refused to answer his letter inviting him to take part in a debate on this question. This exposition is an analysis of biblical texts based on how John the Baptist, Christ, and the apostles taught and administered baptism. Hubmaier’s conclusion was that everywhere baptism should follow only after preaching or exhortation, and is preceded by an expression of faith in the gospel message that had been heard. This book makes no mention of re-baptism, since Hubmaier did not consider infant baptism as conforming to biblical norms. The simplicity of presentation, the clear biblical foundation, and the sharpness of judgment make this sixty-eight-page work a classic. In his later writings, Hubmaier further developed his views, using sayings of the Church Fathers and theologians to support his position. Hubmaier responded in print to writings by Zwingli and Oecolampadius directed against Anabaptism, and developed a order of worship which he considered more suitable for a disciplined and perfect church made up of believers.

The Brethren in St. Gallen

In those distant days, the work of the Reformation in St. Gallen was carried forward by two laymen: the weaver Johann Kessler and the humanist scholar and doctor of medicine Joachim von Watt. Both of these men, being not theologians but self-taught in matters of faith, held Bible studies and contributed to the renewal of the church in the absence of authoritative leadership from the clergy. At the end of 1523, the movement was strengthened by the arrival of Lorenz Hochrütiner, who had been expelled from Zurich for removing statues and icons from churches. The movement advocating Bible reading in St. Gallen was already facing difficulties before news of the first baptisms in Zurich. While von Watt and Kessler leaned toward gradual evolution within the church, Hochrütiner and Wolfgang Ulimann called for a more radical rejection of church traditions and even refused the church building offered to them by the city authorities for their Bible-reading gatherings.

It is therefore not surprising that a split occurred in St. Gallen when news of the Zurich baptisms reached the Bible-reading group. For a time it seemed that the more aggressive Anabaptist party was the stronger. It had influential friends; some of the newly rebaptized sat on the city council. On Palm Sunday 1525, Konrad Grebel himself was present when a group of about two hundred people publicly walked to the river Sitter to participate in a mass baptism. The movement achieved even greater success in the countryside around St. Gallen, mainly in the small canton of Appenzell, where villages had a high degree of autonomy. Here it even happened that an entire village, which was both an administrative and an ecclesiastical unit, could vote to expel a Roman Catholic priest or even a Zwinglian preacher and replace him with an Anabaptist.

Undoubtedly, some element of political and economic calculation was present in this movement. And since Anabaptism opposed the law on church tithes and taxes for the support of the clergy, there were those who saw in this religious movement an opportunity to achieve economic relief and even revolutionary changes in society in favor of the peasants, although the Anabaptist leaders themselves did not set such goals. It was for this reason that the growing sympathy for Anabaptism in St. Gallen and Appenzell provoked such a strong reaction from the authorities. Hans Kern, the most active leader working in these villages, was seized at night by troops of the bishop of St. Gallen and taken to Lucerne, where he was executed. After a general assembly, the council in St. Gallen imposed fines on those who persisted in their sympathy for Anabaptism. As a result of these measures, those whose enthusiasm was superficial returned to the official church, while those truly sympathetic to the movement only became more confirmed in their convictions.

For decades the Anabaptists of St. Gallen were distinguished by a particular radicalism. It is known that some of them refused to take medicine when the plague epidemic broke out in the city in 1530. They also held more strictly than other Anabaptists to Christian simplicity in dress and to the idea of nonresistance. But there were also some, especially those who at first were in the movement and then left under pressure, who justified their apostasy on religious grounds, asserting that the true believer is free from laws and that they receive special visions and revelations.

The Brethren Suffer

We see that persecution and harassment began even before the first baptism ceremonies, when the threat of expulsion was announced on January 18, 1525. In Zurich, the first arrests of Anabaptists were made in early February. Prisons, fines, and sometimes torture were the usual procedures to which the arrested were subjected. Release from prison was granted only when the prisoner promised not to attend Anabaptist meetings. In March 1526, sentences of life imprisonment began to be handed down. Wherever Anabaptism arose, similar measures were taken. The first death sentences for Anabaptists were passed by the authorities of the Roman Catholic cantons, who executed them as Protestants, not because they were Anabaptists. For example, Hippolyt Eberle, who joined the brothers from St. Gallen in April or May 1525, was executed a few weeks later in his home canton of Schwyz. He is also known as the first Protestant martyr, since the cantonal authorities made no distinction between Protestant heresy and Anabaptist heresy. The first death sentence by a Protestant government was pronounced on Felix Manz, who was drowned in the Limmat River in Zurich on January 5, 1527. The official basis for such extreme measures was the mere charge of performing baptism, receiving baptism, or attending Anabaptist meetings. The authorities claimed that the real reason for the executions was antigovernment activity, namely refusal to obey government decrees prohibiting baptism, and perjury or returning to Anabaptism after promising to abandon it. Thus the religious charge was transformed into a civil one.

At the beginning of 1527, the Zurich Anabaptist movement faced a serious danger of schism. Of the first leaders, Conrad Grebel died of illness, and Felix Manz was executed. Georg Blaurock escaped execution only because he was not a citizen of Zurich and could not return there. Other leaders were scattered to various places, where they encountered various dangers and where they were confronted with questions for which they were not prepared to answer. Under increasing pressure and persecution, the movement was threatened by two dangers from within. On the one hand, there were more and more who supported Anabaptist teaching, especially its criticism of the abuses of the official church, but at the same time tried to avoid the costly full and open identification with the movement. Perhaps they covered their fears with the argument that true faith is spiritual and not bound to outward forms. Thus, inwardly they could agree with Anabaptist teaching without suffering for it. On the other hand, there were those whom persecution and religious zeal could push to emotional and moral excesses, which they might commit in order to receive special revelations or in the name of heroic Christian service. This latter group later became known as the “fanatics.”

Consolidation

Feeling the urgent need to resolve many questions, a group of Anabaptist leaders met in the village of Schleitheim at the end of 1527. We cannot say how this meeting was convened or how long it lasted. According to tradition, it is believed that its decisions were proposed by Michael Sattler. Georg Blaurock may also have been present at this meeting. However, as little as we know about the organization of this meeting and its participants, it is no exaggeration to say that it and the decisions made at it gave the young religious movement its distinctive features and saved it. This gathering was not representative and prearranged, to which delegates came so that each could vote for the position of those he supported, and whose opinions would represent the minimum with which they all agreed, and they would not need to change their views. On the contrary, the people who came to Schleitheim gathered in an atmosphere of disagreement and confusion, as they themselves later testified, declaring that the Holy Spirit brought them to unity and a common conviction. (Quotations from the account of the Schleitheim meeting are taken from the English translation by John Wenger, The Doctrines of the Mennonites. Scottdale: Mennonite Publishing House, 1950, pp. 69-74).

“We declare to all who honor God that we were brought to unity—praise be to our Lord!—without any contradiction from any brother, and were fully satisfied. In this we felt the unity of the Father and our common Christ with us in Their Spirit, for the Lord is the God of peace, not of dissension.”

The first result of this coming to a common conviction was the recognition that the Anabaptists are not in spiritual unity with those who understand “spiritual freedom” differently.

“Certain false brothers have stirred up great confusion among us, which has led some to fall away from the faith, thinking to enjoy the freedom of the Spirit and the name of Christ. But they have departed from the truth and surrendered themselves—to their own condemnation—to vanity and the freedom of the flesh, believing that faith and love permit them to do all things, and that nothing threatens them because they are believers. Take note, members of the Church of God in Christ Jesus, that faith in the heavenly Father through Jesus Christ does not express itself in such a way…”

In the first three articles, an important agreement was reached concerning the meaning of church membership, which was defined by the understanding of the meaning of baptism, the ban /anathema/, and the Lord’s Supper. Baptism is intended only for those who — “have learned repentance and have taken care for the moral cleansing of their life, and who truly believe that their sins are atoned for by Christ, and who desire to enter into the resurrection of Christ and be buried with Him in death so as to rise together with Him, and who themselves desire this and ask us for it, proceeding from such an understanding.”

It is quite evident that a child could not “enter into the resurrection”; only those who knew its value and who themselves could take the initiative and ask for baptism could do so. Baptism was not only a covenant with God, but also a congregation, by means of which its members bound themselves to help one another in a life based on obedience and humility through admonition and, if necessary, to resort to excommunication. The Lord’s Supper was to be observed only by those who were in full unity with the brotherhood: “He who has not been called by the one God to one faith, to one baptism, to one Spirit, to one body with all the children of God’s church, cannot break the one bread with them…”

The fourth article contained a definition of the principle of separation from the world of darkness and unbelief in terms fitting for that situation: “Everything that is not united with our God and Christ is nothing but an abomination which we must avoid. This includes all papal and anti-papal activities and worship, assemblies, church attendance, taverns, guarantees and obligations in which no one believes, and much else of the same kind that the world extols but that clearly contradicts God’s commandment.”

The fifth article, more clearly than before, provided for the leadership of the local church, stating that “the shepherd of God’s church should be one who conforms to Paul’s rule, one of whom those who do not belong to our faith speak well.” Believers are encouraged to support the shepherd in his needs, and if he is taken from them as a result of persecution or he departs on a missionary assignment, they are to replace him immediately: “If this shepherd is driven out or goes to our Lord through the cross, then at once another is ordained in his place…”

In the last two articles of the agreement worked out at the meeting, the Christian’s relationship to the state was discussed during the debate over the “sword” and the taking of oaths. Both these articles are longer in content than the five preceding ones and are set out in greater detail. The fact that these issues were given special attention indicates that it was precisely on these points that the Anabaptists were subjected to criticism and threats from the official churches, and that these matters were not entirely clear to some members who did not know what position they should take and how they should explain it. The necessity of adhering to the utmost simplicity in following the words and example of Jesus was substantiated, but this simplicity did not hinder a reasoned debate with people holding opposite positions. It became clear that those who belong to Christ can neither resort to violence nor swear by God’s name to confirm their good intentions. The Schleitheim meeting was a lifesaver for the Anabaptist movement in at least two respects. The very fact that this meeting took place and was successfully concluded, and that it was able to work out a position directed against both conformists and fanatics, helped to turn Anabaptism into an organization capable of examining its problems and surviving, rather than degenerating into the usual turmoil of radical enthusiasm. On the doctrinal level, the position worked out at this meeting was biblical in its basis and sufficiently simple and consistent for a simple Christian to understand it, join it, and suffer for it. These seven articles, which were included in the agreement, are sometimes referred to as the Schleitheim Confession of Faith among Anabaptists. But it would be more in keeping with the intention of those present to call it a brotherly understanding, as they themselves called the agreement.

As noted earlier, Michael Sattler is considered the main author of this statement of faith. Soon after the meeting he was arrested together with thirteen other Anabaptists and subjected to merciless interrogations and torture. When given the opportunity to hire a lawyer for his defense, he refused on the grounds that this was not a legal matter but a common matter of defending the faith, which he, as a believer, was always obliged to be ready and obliged to strive to defend himself. Nine charges were brought against him, including the intention to overthrow the Roman Catholic Church and to disrupt civil order. And since he was widely known among the people, a reliable guard was placed around the prison to prevent any disturbance over his arrest. On the day of execution, his tongue was first torn out, then he was pierced seven times with red-hot iron bars, and then burned at the stake. A few days later his wife was drowned. Heinrich Hug, who describes these events, concluded his account with these words: “It was a lamentable event. They died for their convictions.”

Chapter 4 Central Germany and Moravian Anabaptism

Europeans were so carried away by the fiery ideas of the Reformation that they fell into an easily excitable state of a kind of euphoria. It was precisely in this electrified religious atmosphere that Anabaptist ideas arose and were spread by a whole range of leaders among the German and Dutch population of Europe, and under their influence these ideas took the most diverse forms. Anabaptism was not a single, unified movement. In this chapter we will examine the activity of the first generation of Anabaptist leaders who appeared on the historical stage independently of one another and made their contribution to the work of the Holy Spirit during the period of the Radical Reformation.

Hans Denck

One of the most kindhearted and benevolent people among the early Anabaptist leaders was Hans Denck (died 1527). A native of Bavaria and a graduate of the University of Ingolstadt, he applied his humanistic education to publishing, where he proofread manuscripts at two of the best printing houses in Basel. There he became friends with the well-known Reformed theologian Johannes Oecolampadius and was drawn to his ideas. On Oecolampadius’s recommendation, in September 1523 the city authorities of Nuremberg appointed Denck headmaster of St. Sebaldus School. The following year, Nuremberg became a center of religious controversy among the Reformed over doctrinal issues, and Denck took an active part in it. Both Müntzer and Karlstadt, who were growing increasingly disillusioned with the Lutheran Reformation, came there and printed their pamphlets. Luther’s representative in Nuremberg, a man of very moderate views, was seriously alarmed by the rising radicalism. At his insistence, the city council summoned three artists suspected of heresy. They were said to deny the official church teaching on the real, physical presence of Christ’s body and blood in the bread and wine of the Eucharist.

In January 1525, because of his acquaintance with one of these artists, Denck himself was summoned before the city council, and the city fathers subjected the school headmaster to a particularly rigorous interrogation. For a month the council probed his views on a wide range of religious questions. From the outset, the city fathers felt that Denck’s answers were somewhat evasive, and after he explained his understanding of the Eucharist, their suspicions were fully confirmed. Without denying the physical presence of Christ in the bread and wine, he observed that the real question was whether the person partaking of the bread and wine had a living, personal faith. Such an answer clearly did not satisfy them, and on January 21, 1525—the very day of the first Anabaptist baptism in Zurich—Denck was banished permanently from the city under threat of execution. His property was confiscated by order of the council, supposedly for the benefit of his wife and children.

Denck spent most of 1525 traveling through Germany. He was with Müntzer in Mühlhausen and visited the city of St. Gallen with Swiss Brethren and Zwingli’s supporters. In the autumn of that year he went to Augsburg, where he again took up teaching. But there, too, after a year, a local pastor who was a follower of Luther launched attacks on Denck’s religious views, making his life unbearable, and in November 1526 Denck left the city. During his time in Augsburg, Balthasar Hubmaier persuaded Denck to receive believer’s baptism. There is no evidence that he ever joined an Anabaptist brotherhood, but he undoubtedly helped to stir many people’s interest in Anabaptism. After his departure from Augsburg, a brotherhood was established there. Among his activities during the Augsburg period was also the baptism of one of the most ardent Anabaptist missionaries—Hans Hut.

From Augsburg Denck traveled to Strasbourg, a city renowned for its religious toleration, where many Anabaptists found refuge from persecution. Within a month, however, he became actively involved in religious controversy not only with Capito and Bucer, the local Reformation leaders, but also with Michael Sattler. At Christmas 1526 he left Strasbourg and traveled down the Rhine, discussing faith with local pastors and preaching among the people. He even tried—unsuccessfully—to convert several Jews to Christianity. In February 1527 Denck arrived in Worms, where, together with Ludwig Hetzer, he worked on the first translation of the Old Testament prophetic books into German. At the same time he so eagerly discussed his faith with others that Reformed leaders in Strasbourg and Basel became greatly alarmed. As a result, the Elector of the Palatinate took severe measures against the radicals in Worms, and Denck once more took to the road.

In August 1527 he returned to Augsburg, where an Anabaptist brotherhood had since formed. There he met his spiritual godson Hans Hut and others with whom he had engaged in religious debates. This gathering is sometimes called the “Synod of Martyrs” because many of those present soon died as martyrs. The discussion appears to have centered on the significance of the “last times” in the Anabaptists’ gospel preaching. Hut promised in his missionary sermons not to overemphasize the imminent return of Christ at the Second Coming and the Last Judgment, something he sincerely believed in. In September Denck was in Ulm, from where he headed to Basel. Utterly exhausted by his wandering life, he wrote a letter to the Basel Reformer Oecolampadius, begging permission to settle in the city. Oecolampadius, however, required Denck to provide a written statement recanting his Anabaptist views, and Denck gave him a written exposition of his religious convictions, which Oecolampadius published two years later. But it was not a public recantation, as the Basel Reformer called it. Denck did not change his position. Yet he was wounded by the sharpness of the disagreements between the leading Reformers and the Anabaptists and wanted to find a path toward reconciliation. Denck remained in Basel until his death in November 1527 from the plague.

In his faith, Denck was influenced by medieval mysticism, which he learned about from an anonymous book titled The German Theology, as well as from the writings of Müntzer and Karlstadt. He believed that God reveals Himself to the inner self in a reflected, irrational manner, just as He does in Scripture. He disapproved of Luther’s perception of Scripture as the sole revelation, because Scripture alone, without the assistance of the Holy Spirit, could lead a person to dead legalism (that is, a strict adherence to the Law of Moses). The reader of Holy Scripture, Denck believed, needs the presence of the Holy Spirit, who inspired the biblical authors to write so that the Scripture is perceived as a living word. It is quite likely that this also caused his disagreements with the Swiss Anabaptists. Denck was primarily interested in the inner life of a person, life in the Holy Spirit.

Denck was also captivated by the idea of God’s love. He exalted this love to such an extent, wrote one critic in 1525, that he seemed to believe that all people and even the devil himself would ultimately obtain salvation. Whether he actually wrote that God’s love would save all people, regardless of their sins and unbelief, is impossible to determine, but it is clear that God’s love constitutes the very essence of his faith.

Anabaptism attracted him because of the importance it placed on discipleship and righteous living. “No one can truly know Christ,” Denck said, “except those who follow Him in their life.” He lamented that most Protestant converts did not strive for moral perfection. The pursuit of a righteous life moved him to join the Anabaptists through true baptism, but he found it difficult to integrate into the church life of the community. Dogmatic statements and the excessive importance placed on non-essential details in matters of faith depressed him. Therefore, one could say that he was born out of his time, since dissent was not tolerated in the early sixteenth century; it was an era of triumphant prohibitions and restrictions. And since he could not bring himself to agree with dogmatic premises, the reformers and, as can be assumed, the Anabaptists accused him of evasiveness and an unwillingness to commit himself to the common cause.

Hans Hut

In terms of the scale of his activity, Hans Hut stands out among all the traveling missionaries who came to Southern Germany and Austria. Hut was born and raised in Southern Thuringia. At one time he worked as a church sexton in the village of Bibra, but soon became a bookbinder and, to earn extra money, began selling books. This occupation allowed him to visit many lands in Germany, where he became acquainted with Luther’s teaching and even contributed to its spread by selling tracts and pamphlets. But Hut also became acquainted with more radical ideas. At his trial in 1527, he said that he first heard statements against infant baptism from three people he met during his travels. Impressed by what he heard, he studied everything Scripture said about it, and even questioned Lutheran theologians during one of his visits to Wittenberg, but the existing religious practice did not satisfy him. And at the beginning of 1524, he actually refused to baptize his newborn child. When this reached the authorities, they ordered a public debate to be held, as a result of which those rejecting infant baptism were to leave their native places.

This event became a turning point in Hut’s life. Leaving Bibra with his wife and five children, he began the life of a wanderer, which ended with his arrest and death in Augsburg in 1527. He was on the battlefield at the Battle of Frankenhausen in 1525, which put an end to the Peasants’ Revolt. He had gone to the war after hearing Müntzer’s sermon addressed to the peasants. Müntzer perished in this battle, but his conviction about the imminent coming of the Lord made a deep impression on Hut. For over a year, he wandered through Germany, speaking in his sermons about baptism, the Eucharist, and the end times, until he arrived in Augsburg in May 1526. Here, Hans Denck and his friends spoke to him about the righteousness of the Christian life of those who had received true baptism. After long exhortations, he was baptized by Denck on May 26. He spent the remainder of his short life traveling from one town to another through Franconia, Bavaria, Austria, and Moravia, preaching and performing baptisms. Arriving in a town and ascending any prominent place, he would begin his speech with these words: “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature. He who believes and is baptized will be saved [Mark 16]. And the meaning of baptism is to bear with humility cares, need, sorrows, and any privations.” He preached wherever there were people—in remote farmsteads, forests, and the homes of urban artisans. His passionate sermons attracted listeners also because they conveyed his unshakable conviction of Europe’s imminent destruction at the hands of the Turks. His critics claimed that he was actually preaching revolution, but he denied this at his trial. He drew many to the Anabaptist movement; one historian said that Hut, in two years of his ministry, converted more people than all the Anabaptist missionaries combined.

Hut was seized in Augsburg in August 1527; he was tried, cruelly tortured, and perished in prison as a result of an accident. Some claimed that he tried to escape by setting a fire in his cell to attract the guards’ attention and seize the keys, but suffocated from the smoke. His son, however, stated that a lit candle, which the guards had placed by his straw bed when they brought him in unconscious from torture, ignited the straw, and he died. However it happened, his body was brought to the courtroom and tied to the cart used to transport those condemned to death. The dead body was sentenced to capital punishment and burned on December 7.

Hut’s teaching had several distinctive features that set it apart from that of the Swiss Brethren. First, he was captivated by the idea of Christ’s second coming to a far greater degree than they were. It was said that he calculated the exact time of Christ’s return, which was to occur on Pentecost in 1528. Some even claimed that he advised his hearers to prepare for a battle with the godless after the tragic battle of Nuremberg, in which the Turks destroyed the flower of European chivalry. Hut rejected these charges, and we know that under the influence of Denck after their meeting in Augsburg in 1526 he began to view the second coming differently. But it must also be noted that Hut was not the only one speaking of Christ’s return. Many devout people in those days believed that God was about to end human history by His own will.

The second distinguishing feature of Hut’s teaching, as emerges from the writings and judicial testimonies of some of his followers, was his mysticism. This mysticism, which he absorbed from Thomas Müntzer, is evident in the enormous importance he attached to personal suffering as a mark of the Christian who truly follows Christ. The Christian must suffer as Christ suffered, and this suffering, in some measure, becomes the means by which the Christian is saved from the hell of this world. The Swiss Brethren objected to the last part of this assertion.—Not a single Anabaptist denied the sufferings that a true Christian must undergo, but there were those who did not believe that sufferings had any bearing on salvation. Moreover, by suffering Hut meant not only physical torments but also spiritual anguish over sins and alienation from God.

The third characteristic feature of Hut’s teaching was the necessity of sharing possessions. This was spoken of in all his sermons, or at least that is how his hearers interpreted his words; they felt a reproach to the wealthy who did not voluntarily share their means with their brethren. He placed far greater emphasis on this than did some other Anabaptists.

Anabaptism in Central Germany

Anabaptism in Central Germany traces its origin to the evangelistic work among the population carried out by Hut. He preached and baptized in his native Thuringia in 1526 and also founded a brotherhood in the city of Königsberg. When the authorities discovered this religious movement, in February 1527 some of those who had joined it were executed, while others managed to flee with Hut to Austria and beyond. Some fled north as well, so that despite persecution and repression, a strong religious movement arose in both Saxony and Hesse three years later. The most robust Anabaptist brotherhood, which supplied leaders and inspired the entire movement wherever it operated and thus became its center, was located in the small village of Sorga, a few miles east of the town of Hersfeld. Here the acknowledged leader and inspirer of the movement was Melchior Rinck.

Rinck appears in Hersfeld in 1523, where he works as a schoolteacher and occasionally performs the duties of a chaplain. Having become interested in Reformation teaching together with a colleague, they began openly to preach it, denouncing, among other things, the transgressions of the local Franciscan monks. Because of this they were forced to leave Hersfeld, but Rinck became a pastor in a locality south of Eisenach. Here he fell under Müntzer’s influence and, like Hut, followed him into the Peasants’ War in 1525, from which he returned without a scratch but spiritually transformed. He fled south to the Palatinate, where he met Denck and came under his influence. In 1528 he settled in the vicinity of Hersfeld, criticizing infant baptism in his sermons and winning converts to the Anabaptist cause. Hearing of his activity, Landgrave Philip of Hesse summoned him to explain his preaching of Anabaptist doctrine, which was forbidden by law. With his characteristic tolerance, Philip gave Rinck a choice of three things: publicly recant his views, leave the territory, or undergo a theological examination conducted by the theological faculty of the University of Marburg. Rinck chose the last option and, as expected, was found guilty, but refused to go into exile despite the command. As a result, in 1529 he was arrested and spent two years in prison; he was released in 1531, but in November of the same year was arrested again and sentenced to life imprisonment. He died in prison, not far from his places of ministry, around the 1540s.

After him, other figures came into Central Germany, including Fritz Erbe, whose sixteen-year imprisonment became a symbol of Lutheran persecution and of Anabaptist patience in suffering. Yet none of them had the zeal for true baptism that Rinck displayed, and in the 1540s persecution, flight, and recantations caused a sharp decline in the movement’s activity in this region.

To the west of the village of Copra, where Rink was primarily active, at the heart of the land of Hesse under Landgrave Philip, a rapidly growing Anabaptist movement arose in the thirties. Capable leaders came to the Rhine from the north, and bold missionaries from among the Moravian Anabaptists, who called themselves Hutterites, visited them. When persecution became too severe, some, in turn, went to Moravia. Philip preferred to punish Anabaptists by banishment rather than by execution, arguing that if all heretics were killed, then Jews and Catholics should also be included in that number. Most of the princes of Germany at that time thought he treated the Anabaptists too leniently, yet the Anabaptist movement in Hesse was indeed influential. When a group of Anabaptists, perhaps twelve in number, had been imprisoned together in one cell for more than a year, they managed to make a hole in the wall large enough for an escape, but most of them remained so as not to disturb the authorities. Those who did get out did not flee but continued their work of evangelization, and one of them converted and baptized thirty people while supposedly still in prison.

But, despite all their zeal, the leaders of the Hessian Anabaptists gave up the struggle and returned to the state/Lutheran church. In 1538, Philip arranged a disputation between four Anabaptists and Martin Bucer, the reformer from Strasbourg. Bucer convinced them that the sin of separating from the one Body of Christ, the true church, outweighed the sin of the immoral life led by people in the state church. Yet they pointed out that the Christian must lead a pure and blameless life. As a result of this disputation, the state church of Hesse resolved to excommunicate those who live unrighteously, not as it befits a Christian to live, which meant a victory for the former Anabaptists.

The Hutterite Brethren

Anabaptism came from Switzerland and Bavaria into the Austrian lands and Tyrol. At the end of 1527, Leonhard Schiemer and Hans Schlaffer spread Anabaptist teaching in the Inn River valley, where Schiemer was seized and executed in January 1528. Both missionaries followed the teachings and continued the preaching work of Hans Hut, from whom they had received baptism and instruction. They and other brothers ministered east of Rattenberg and Schwaz in Upper and Lower Austria, and south into Tyrol. Blaurock from the Zürich circle baptized converts and established brotherhoods south of the Brenner Pass in Tyrol. It was there that he was finally captured, tortured, and burned alive in September 1529. Other Anabaptist leaders were Georg Zaunring and, finally, Jakob Hutter.

The Austrian authorities treated Anabaptists with particular severity. Within the former Austrian domains, Archduke Ferdinand exercised stricter control over his noble feudal vassals than in Tyrol. Yet in all regions he fought heresy with unrelenting fury, commanding the local authorities to identify and punish Anabaptists. He appointed special officials to conduct trials of those who were captured. He created special bands of Anabaptist hunters, whose task was to ferret them out among the population. The punishment was always the same—death. Even those Anabaptists who, under torture, recanted their beliefs had to die, though in such cases they were executed in a more merciful manner: they were beheaded rather than burned alive.

The harshness of the persecution sent a flood of refugees to Moravia, which became a promised land for the Anabaptists in the first decades of the movement’s existence. In 1526, Moravia also fell under the political control of Ferdinand, but the Moravian nobility had traditionally enjoyed relative freedom from control by their political overlord and were not inclined to look favorably upon Ferdinand’s attempts to impose his will on them where Anabaptists or anything else were concerned. Ferdinand could only gradually enforce his will regarding the Anabaptists in Moravia, and so for several decades it became the only refuge in Europe for the persecuted flock. Austrian refugees who came to Moravia contributed greatly to the growth of the Hutterite communities at the beginning of the thirties.

Hubmaier was one such refugee who found relative peace and quiet in the land of Moravia. After his frustrating experience with Zwingli and other inhabitants of Zürich, he was overjoyed to settle in Nikolsburg, where we find him at the beginning of the summer of 1526. The lords of Liechtenstein, above all Leonhard, favored the Anabaptists. There was a Lutheran brotherhood among the German-speaking population in Nikolsburg, and Hubmaier set himself the task of making it Anabaptist with the help of the refugees. The majority of Anabaptists who passed through the courts in Tyrol indicated that they had either been baptized in Nikolsburg or had lived there for some time. By the end of the spring of 1527, Nikolsburg had become the principal center of the movement, where probably no fewer than twelve thousand Anabaptists lived.

In this atmosphere, the passionate evangelist Hans Hut came to the city. Even before his arrival, the Anabaptists had been troubled by conflicting opinions on several key issues, including the Christian stance on the use of force for political ends. Hut helped to resolve this problem. One of the most pressing questions was the attitude toward the war tax, proclaimed amidst the rather feverish preparations of Austrian and certain German political leaders for war against the Turks: should Christians pay the war tax? Hubmaier had always supported the leading Reformers in allowing the state to decide religious matters. Consequently, he was interested in attracting to his cause the political leaders in whose lands he and his fellow Anabaptists could find refuge. When these political rulers were faced with the necessity of levying a war tax, then, of course, it had to be paid. Hut was less inclined than Hubmaier to support political leaders in any form, especially when they asked for money to arm their armies against the Turks. Hut believed that God was using the Turks to destroy the political rulers of Europe. Therefore, clearly, a Christian could not pay the war tax! In a disputation held in May 1527, other issues were discussed as well. Hut questioned Hubmaier’s interpretation of the role of even a Christian magistrate in God’s actions in light of Christ’s imminent return. Hut joined a group composed mainly of refugees, which insisted on the just distribution of goods in the form of Christian communism. But in this group, no one owned any property.

On the other hand, Hubmaier, supported by the nobility, felt that the lords of Liechtenstein had shown enough generosity in granting refuge to the Anabaptist refugees, and would not go to such an extreme as to renounce the right to own their lands and possessions by becoming Anabaptists. But the main theme, discussed most hotly, was the question of nonresistance. Hut’s nonresistance seemed dangerously irresponsible in view of the Turkish threat; Leonhard von Liechtenstein, in any case, thought exactly that and imprisoned him. A friend helped him to escape. But the remaining Anabaptists found themselves hopelessly divided into those who came to be called “sword-bearers” and “staff-bearers.”

Neither of the two opponents lived long after this disputation. Hut was captured in August in Augsburg and died in December. Hubmaier was arrested a few months after the disputation, and his patrons showed either unwillingness or inability to protect him. Archduke Ferdinand was elected Margrave of Moravia in October 1526, after the previous margrave, Ludwig of Hungary, perished fighting the Turks near the city of Mohács. Ferdinand was determined to bring down repression upon the Anabaptists in his newly acquired territory, just as he had done in his hereditary Austrian lands. He demanded the execution of Hubmaier, against whom he had long held a grudge: Hubmaier had been one of the leaders of the uprising in Waldshut against Austrian rule. The circumstances of Hubmaier’s arrest are unknown. For several months, from late 1527 to March 1528, Hubmaier was held in Vienna at Kreuzenstein Castle. He was subjected to numerous interrogations with the traditional use of torture. He also had a lengthy conversation with a Catholic theologian, his old university colleague and friend, Johann Faber. Unlike most Anabaptists, Hubmaier could make considerable concessions to a Catholic on issues such as the authority of the state and the significance of good works in the plan of salvation, but he could not reach agreement with Faber concerning true baptism and the nature of the Eucharist. Therefore, he decided to write an account of his faith and present it to Ferdinand in an attempt to obtain mercy from the archduke, but mercy was denied him. He was sentenced to death for both heresy and sedition, and burned at the stake on March 10, 1528, before a large crowd of assembled people. The executioner, as an act of mercy, sprinkled his hair and beard with gunpowder, which, upon igniting, brought him a swift death. His wife, who had faithfully urged him to remain courageous, was drowned a few days later.

With the death of their spiritual leader, the “sword-bearers” group disintegrated. The same did not happen with the “staff-bearers” group. Before the Nikolsburg Disputation, a large number of them had withdrawn from the brotherhood they shared with the “sword-bearers” group. Now, in the spring of 1528, Leonhard of Liechtenstein realized he could no longer tolerate their religious dissension and ordered the “staff-bearers,” who had withdrawn from the brotherhood, to leave his lands. About two hundred people prepared to leave with their families. Leaving Nikolsburg, they spread a cloak on the ground, and “each voluntarily, without any compulsion, laid his possessions on it for the support of the needy” (Mennonite Encyclopedia I, p. 193). For three weeks they traveled to Austerlitz, where the Princes of Kaunitz received them and allocated a place for them to live and work. Under the leadership of Jakob Widemann and Philipp Weber, they increased their number with new refugees.

Nevertheless, the years from 1529 to 1533, when Jakob Hutter came, were a difficult time for the Austerlitz group. Frequent conflicts arose because they had not yet created a Christian community with an uncompromising attitude toward property. The initial act at the walls of Nikolsburg had as its primary goal meeting the urgent needs of those who had nothing at all, but it also felt the eschatological influence of Hans Hut. He had been given a vision of the dramatic events that occurred in the spring of 1528, and, as a result, some of the “staff-bearers” considered it useless to own any property after Christ’s coming. While the first sharing of goods was aimed at meeting specific needs, they soon began to share what they consumed and to distribute the work that needed to be done within the community. Gradually, they arrived at a point where the community owned everything and distributed among its members both work and food, clothing, and shelter.

In the fully realized idea of community of goods from the mid‑1530s to the present day, the single most important factor was love of neighbor. The Hutterites, as they came to be called, considered their own expression of Christian love the only true one. There could be no Christian love among brothers in Christ who had not renounced their personal property and given it to the brotherhood community; and indeed, the failure of the attempt to unite the brothers on the basis of community of goods cast doubt among Hutterites on the reality of individual salvation. Their prominent mid‑seventeenth‑century leader, Andreas Ehrenpreis, wrote:

“If Christian love for one’s neighbor cannot even provide community of ownership of temporal things, community in giving help and comfort, then the Blood of Christ does not wash away a person’s sins.” (Sendbrief, 1652 in Mennonite Encyclopedia, I, p. 660). The Hutterites also used an argument borrowed from the practice of the Eucharist. Just as the wheat grain and the single grape cluster lose their distinctive characteristics completely in the loaf of bread and the wine, so each brother must dissolve entirely into the broader unity of the brotherhood; and indeed, without the full vanishing of individualism, no unity that would be exclusively Christian is possible. The Hutterites struck a blow at the natural egoism of human nature and demanded its capitulation. No discipleship, no following after Christ, was possible without this.

The problems arising from lack of experience in community life were gradually solved under the strict leadership of Jakob Hutter. The surname Hutter means “hatmaker.” He came from Tyrol in 1529 to inspect the Moravian lands as a possible refuge for his Anabaptist brethren. Both he and his assistant were pleasantly surprised by what they saw in Moravia, and soon they began sending groups of Tyrolean Anabaptists there. Hutter himself remained in Tyrol and continued his evangelistic work, but the brethren in Moravia appealed to him several times to settle the disagreements that had arisen among them. The original Austerlitz group, which had proclaimed community of goods, separated in 1530 from the other brothers who had moved to Auspitz. When Hutter returned to Moravia in 1530 to find out who was to blame for this schism, he discovered that the greater part of the guilt lay with the Austerlitz leaders. In 1533 Hutter came to Auspitz, where continuing dissensions among the leaders and poor management of community funds forced him to stay there for two years. In 1535 the community’s affairs improved under his strict leadership, but some former leaders, dissatisfied with his decisions and perhaps jealous of his popularity among the majority of members, left Auspitz and went elsewhere.

That year all Anabaptists faced renewed persecution unleashed by Archduke Ferdinand of Austria. The communities settled in Auspitz, greatly increased in numbers owing to the many refugees arriving from Tyrol and other places, disintegrated; their inhabitants were forced to wander under the open sky; in small groups they settled on lands whose owners were not inclined to heed Ferdinand’s decrees. Meanwhile the brotherhood demanded that Hutter leave them, because the civil authorities were hunting for him. He returned to Tyrol hoping that the persecution there had eased, but a few months later he and his wife were taken by surprise at night in the home of a friend. In December the trial took place, and on 25 February 1536 he was publicly burned at the stake. The extent of his influence on the brethren in Moravia is attested by the fact that from that time they called themselves “the Hutterian Brethren.”

After Hutter’s death the brethren were led successively by very capable men, among them Hans Amon, Peter Riedemann, Peter Walpot, and Klaus Braidl. The communities grew rapidly, even though it was precisely at this time that Anabaptists in all other parts of Europe again suffered blows from the Catholic Counter‑Reformation, which sought to suppress them completely. At the same time, the brethren in Moravia were granted a significant measure of freedom. From about 1555 to 1595 the brethren prospered; they called this time the “Golden Period.” The brethren continuously sent missionaries to various parts of Europe; most of them paid with their lives for their activity, but they courageously went to it—a trait that was itself an extremely positive feature of Anabaptism, helping to attract new converts. The brethren increased their numbers through converts and through the almost constant influx of refugees from different parts of Europe. New colonies were founded both in Moravia and beyond its eastern borders in Slovakia, and later also in Hungary. They probably had no fewer than one hundred communities, whose membership ranged from 20 to 30 thousand people. This was also a period of intense literary activity. Braitmichel began compiling his Chronicle, which his successors continued until 1665. The brethren carefully preserved copies of letters they sent and received from many brothers, and treatises written in their defense and against them. Their organizational abilities, developed to the highest degree through the demands of the communal life they lived, clearly demonstrated themselves in the way they managed to make from their written materials a historical account stretching far beyond their own era.

What was the organizational principle of these colonies? The whole brotherhood was under the governance of one bishop. Each colony (brotherhood) at that time had one or several preachers, and also had people who handled economic affairs, including agriculture. Each colony consisted of freshly whitewashed houses standing around a central square. Here the members of the community, numbering several hundred people, lived and worked, and family ties bound them less than their duties to the colony. Their constant performance of the same tasks developed in them an ability to work efficiently, which turned their colonies into such economically prosperous enterprises that neighboring peasants complained of unbearable competition.

“It was like a great clockwork, where one small wheel sets another in motion, that in turn a third, and so the whole mechanism works.” Or “it is like a beehive, where all the worker bees together labor for the common result; one does this, another that, not for its own profit but for the good of all.” (Chronicle, in Robert Friedmann, Hutterite Studies. Goshen Ind.: Mennonite Historical Society, 1961, p. 79). Their efficiency in labor gave rise to rumors among their neighbors of their untold wealth. The monetary fines later imposed on them by local authorities show that they were quite well-off, although persecution and strict self-discipline guarded them from the economic and spiritual dissoluteness that comparatively great wealth can produce.

Over time, the Brethren wrote a large number of rules and regulations governing their communal life, work, and crafts. The best-known of these were formulated in 1651, during the leadership of Andreas Ehrenpreis, and are still used today. The Brethren especially excelled in the following crafts: pottery, knife-making, carriages and coaches, beds, and clocks. Their medical skill was developed to such a degree that Hutterite doctors were often invited to the courts of noble lords to demonstrate their art. Any earnings a brother gained on the outside had to be given to the community. Even a coin accidentally found on the road went into the common treasury.

In the colony, family life was not highly valued. At the age of two or three, parents gave their children to the community nursery. There they were under the care of women teachers who devoted all their time to child-rearing. They taught them cleanliness, how to pray, and how to behave. From the nursery they moved to the elementary school, which was what we would call a boarding school. Children of people not living in the colony, including those from noble families, were accepted and educated in the Hutterite elementary school. The quality of instruction was high, as later writings of the graduates of these schools testified. They were taught excellent calligraphy, and their knowledge of the Bible along with some elements of logic used in disputations was very good.

By the time a young man turned twenty, he prepared to receive baptism. The ceremony itself took place after he went through a period of preparation; it was based on the candidate’s solemn promise to remain faithful to God and the brotherhood. Young people also married after turning twenty. Romantic love was not the basis for choosing marriage partners. The elders gathered all the unmarried youth of both sexes and offered each girl a choice of two or three prospective husbands, from whom she was to choose her husband. (One source describes it differently: the young man chose one of two or three girls offered to him by the elders. Such assemblies took place once or twice a year. This practice lasted until the middle of the nineteenth century, when the Hutterites gave young people more freedom in choosing a future life partner.) After this assembly, the wedding ceremony followed, with no time left for courtship. Marriage was viewed as one of the kinds of human relationships that God commanded people to enter. People married because the Lord commanded His children to marry and multiply.

The relative peace of the “Golden Period” ended in the late 1590s and the first decade of the 1600s. It seemed inevitable that persecution would fall upon people whom most inhabitants of Europe considered heretics. Cardinal Franz von Dietrichstein again began to persecute them, while keeping Balthasar Goller, a Hutterite physician, at his side until his death in 1619. A slander campaign was launched against them by the Austrian government, hoping to gain popular support for further repressions. Two priests who knew them well and two former Hutterites, who were forced to demonstrate their piety by denouncing their former brethren, took part in this campaign. The relative wealth of the Hutterite communities was frequently under attack, and they were asked to provide financial support for the war against the Turks. In 1605, the Turks plundered the Hutterite colonies, carrying off not only goods but also taking women and children captive. One Hutterite wandered through Turkish lands for three years, trying to find and ransom some of his Hutterite brothers, but achieved little and died in a foreign land. The events of the Turkish War of 1593–1606 and the persecutions by their own Austrian government shook the Moravian colonies to their foundations.

The Thirty Years’ War /1618-48/ was yet another calamity that befell them. While the Roman Catholic armies were victorious in the initial phase of the war, the pressure on the Hutterites grew ever more brutal. In 1622 they were forced to withdraw to colonies of their co-religionists in Slovakia, and then moved on to Hungary, losing their lands, homes, and most of their possessions. During these displacements and the loss of spiritual leadership, much of their former way of life slipped away from them. They lost the rhythm and order of their communal life and their self-discipline; the force of universal chaos was too overwhelming at that moment. But in this dire hour an extraordinarily gifted leader arose to guide them: Andreas Ehrenpreis, who served as bishop from 1639 until his death in 1662. Ehrenpreis’s greatest achievement was changing the organizational principle and directing their spiritual renewal. During this period the sermons delivered also began to be recorded, and together with the “Rules and Regulations” of 1651 they are widely used today by Hutterites in Canada and the United States of America.

After Ehrenpreis’s death a new decline set in. Later, in the seventeenth century, they abandoned their earlier form of communal life in favor of forms that encouraged a greater role for private property and personal initiative. Several times they appealed to the Dutch Mennonites for financial support and apparently received some funds. Internal decay and loss of discipline were, however, too great, and in the eighteenth century most Hutterites yielded to the arguments of Catholic Jesuits, reinforced by the threat of force from the Austrian government. One colony, located far to the southeast in Transylvania, revived in spirit and numbers thanks to Lutherans who adopted Hutterite views in the 1750s, decided in 1767 to emigrate eastward to Ukraine. Several families from Slovakia followed them in 1782-83 under the leadership of Jakob Waltner, while the colonies remaining in those regions converted to Roman Catholicism.

Despite internal decline among the Hutterites, the Jesuits did not find it easy to convert them to their faith. To achieve their goal they resorted to a wide variety of methods. They sent male spiritual leaders to monasteries, where most eventually yielded to their demands. Catholic services were conducted in the colonies and the remaining brothers and sisters were forced to attend. Children were taken from the colonies and raised by staunch Catholics. For a period in the 1750s and 1760s the Hutterites became nominal Catholics, but they secretly gathered and conducted their former worship. By the end of the eighteenth century their resistance was finally broken. The peasants nicknamed them “Habaners,” and their descendants continued to live in the old Slovak colonies at least until World War II. But the distinctive religious traditions and practices were lost in those areas. They relocated to Ukraine, and from there—in the 1880s—to Canada and the United States of America.

Chapter 5 Pilgram Marpeck and Anabaptism in South Germany

In the archives of the ancient imperial city of Strasbourg on the Rhine it is recorded that on September 19, 1528, an Austrian civil engineer named Pilgram Marpeck became a citizen of that city. He had come to Strasbourg from Rattenberg, located in the picturesque valley of the River Inn in Austria, where danger threatened him. The events of his life up to September 1528 can be reconstructed from documents preserved in Rattenberg and neighboring towns, as well as from Marpeck’s own accounts.

Marpeck’s date of birth is unknown, and the only information about his early life is based on his own stories about himself; Marpeck’s parents were devout people and raised him in the Roman Catholic faith. Judging by his reputation as an expert in engineering and his professional skill, he received a good education, most likely at the Rattenberg Latin school. In 1520 Marpeck became a member of the miners’ guild in Rattenberg and was engaged in transporting copper ore from the mines to the town of Kitzbühel, a few miles east of Rattenberg. A few years later he was elected to the town Council. The town magistrate then appointed him superintendent of mining operations in the lower Inn Valley. His salary amounted to 65 pounds, with an additional three pounds for the purchase of clothing suitable for official meetings, which was a large sum at that time.

Marpeck was not short of means. In 1525 he even granted a loan to the town, and it was known that he owned several houses. Together with his wife he paid for the education of three orphans, which testifies not only to his wealth but also to his kindness. Thanks to his wealth and position he was received in aristocratic circles, and he maintained a lifelong friendship with Countess Helena von Freyberg, whose castle was located near Kitzbühel.

Life smiled upon the Marpeck household. They were rich. Pilgram served on the town Council, his career prospered, and it seemed that the Marpeck family’s high social status would last forever. But it was not to be. The next entry in the Rattenberg archives states that Pilgram Marpeck was dismissed from his post, but the reason for his dismissal is not given. Most likely, as a public official, he refused to assist in the arrest of Anabaptists. The date beneath this entry is January 28, 1528. Marpeck abandoned his property and home and never returned to the town. His property, valued at 3,500 gulden, was seized by the town treasury.

What, then, forced so substantial and respected a gentleman as Pilgram Marpeck to become a fugitive? Nothing other than that which stands above wealth and social standing. Even without direct evidence, the reason is clear: Marpeck had become an Anabaptist, promising to obey Jesus Christ and to sacrifice everything, even life itself. As we can understand from the previous chapter, in 1528 Anabaptists in Austria faced hard times. On August 20, 1527, Ferdinand I, ruler of Austria, issued a decree aimed at “sectarians and heretics.” In his domains he tolerated no doctrinal systems that contradicted the Roman Church. Everywhere Anabaptists were seized, imprisoned, and many were executed. We know that at the end of 1527 an Anabaptist brotherhood existed in Rattenberg, for the archives report: on November 25, Leonard Schiemer was arrested, having been the bishop of the brotherhood for only one day. Another prominent Anabaptist preacher by the name of Hans Schlaffer was captured in the vicinity of Rattenberg on December 5, 1527, and executed on February 4, 1528. Marpeck knew about these two martyrs and also read the letters that Schiemer wrote from prison to the Rattenberg brotherhood. If Marpeck was an Anabaptist at this time, then he was also a member of the brotherhood.

Marpeck, with his family, found himself among the refugees who left their homes in search of a safe haven, because staying at home meant almost certain death. That was the case after April 1, 1528, when Ferdinand of Austria issued an even harsher decree against the Anabaptists. The Marpeck family decided to go to Strasbourg. This city was known for its tolerance toward Anabaptists, and there were few such places in Europe.

Strasbourg

Strasbourg held extraordinary importance in sixteenth-century Europe. It served as a bridge between the Netherlands and Italy, between Paris and Vienna, and its location at the intersection of two major trade routes greatly contributed to its prosperity in the sixteenth century. But along these same routes came people with new ideas, either voluntarily journeying in search of places where they might be heard, or forced to flee because of persecution. The polarity and diversity of ideas held by those passing through Strasbourg or staying there are truly astonishing.

But Strasbourg was not only a famous and convenient stop on the way to other cities. Like a magnet, it attracted people who, because of their views on Christian doctrine, were unwelcome guests everywhere. As a result of uprisings in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, during which political demands were made, the city became independent of its ruler. The ruler of Strasbourg, as often happened, was both a prince and a bishop. A democratic form of government developed with a complex system of councils /magistrates/ and elected officials representing the interests of the two main social groups: the nobility and the citizens. Power belonged to twenty guilds /professional associations of craftsmen/.

Wherever Catholic bishops held full power, they sought to eradicate all dissent. For centuries, according to church law, the death penalty was prescribed for rejection of church teaching or for rebaptism. But in Strasbourg the bishop did not have such power and therefore could not significantly influence religious affairs. Tolerance of dissent and moderation in punishing lawbreakers were old traditions in Strasbourg. “He who would have been hanged anywhere else is driven out of Strasbourg with whips,” it was said at that time.

When the Reformation began and its main ideas, in the form of pamphlets and treatises, flooded the European countries, Strasbourg found itself in the thick of events. Known for its religious tolerance, Strasbourg became a center of printing and distribution of all literary genres of the Reformation. Of course, the townspeople were not indifferent to the events taking place. Martin Luther’s conviction that a person is pleasing to God primarily through faith, and not through works prescribed by the Roman Catholic Church, found grateful listeners in the city that in 1518 had challenged the powerful Vatican. That year, the Ninety-Five Theses of Luther were brought to Strasbourg, and copies were hung on the doors of churches and priests’ houses.

At that same time Matthäus Zell arrived in Strasbourg and became a pastor at the cathedral. He was enthusiastic about the Reformation and soon openly preached the new doctrine. In 1522 he advocated for worship to be conducted in German instead of Latin, and rejected the Roman Catholic practice of communion in one kind only. The leadership of the Roman Catholic Church forbade him to preach from the cathedral pulpit, but the influential guilds supported him and built wooden platforms from which he preached to brotherhoods numbering no fewer than 3,000 people. The reforms became so popular that the Strasbourg authorities, at the end of 1523, issued an order allowing evangelical preaching. After his marriage, Zell was excommunicated, but the authorities preserved his position for him. In August 1524, the city authorities decided to appoint and pay salaries to the pastors of seven city churches, a development comparable to what was observed in Zurich under Zwingli. In May 1523, Martin Bucer arrived in the city, and thanks to his leadership talent and energy, he soon became the head of the Strasbourg reformers. We will say more about him in this chapter.

Anabaptists began arriving in Strasbourg in early 1526, but as early as July 1525 Balthasar Hubmaier printed his book on baptism here. Among the first to arrive were Michael Sattler and Wilhelm Reublin, both belonging to the Swiss Brethren. In November 1526, Hans Denck came from Augsburg and entered into a public dispute with the Strasbourg clergy. As we already know, Denck was ordered to leave the city, and the council decreed that henceforth no public disputes between priests and dissenters should be held without its permission. In 1526–27, several prominent Anabaptists arrived in Strasbourg, as well as representatives of various Reformed movements.

Matthew Zell displayed a truly Christian spirit toward the Anabaptists and categorically opposed persecution for faith. He considered the Anabaptists to be true Christians who needed help, not coercion to recant. He publicly declared that he did not agree with the repressive measures proposed by Bucer and the city authorities. Capito, another Strasbourg reformer, despite his sympathy for the Anabaptists, especially for Michael Sattler, and some commonality of views with them, nevertheless agreed that those Anabaptists who stubbornly defended their schismatic views should be punished. Yet, thanks to Zell and Capito, Strasbourg remained a “City of Hope” for persecuted Anabaptists. Martin Bucer, the head of the Reformed, initially treated the Anabaptists amicably, primarily because of his friendship with Michael Sattler, but when the Anabaptists decided to establish their own brotherhood, his attitude toward them changed sharply. Although Bucer believed that the Anabaptists could be persuaded to renounce their faith, he did not hesitate to resort to force in case of their refusal. On July 27, 1527, a strict order was issued forbidding assistance and shelter to Anabaptists. Even with the expulsion in 1534 of Leopold Scharnschlager, the strong-willed leader and assistant of Pilgram Marpeck, the organized life of the brotherhood continued, though not as strictly as before. Traditional tolerance made possible the holding of Anabaptist conferences in Strasbourg in 1554, 1556, 1557, 1568, 1592, and 1607.

Marpeck and Anabaptism

After this excursus into the history of the city of Strasbourg and its relations with the Anabaptists, we return again to Pilgram Marpeck. He arrived in Strasbourg in order to join and work in the Anabaptist brotherhood, since a record dated October 22, 1528, states: “…Pilgram Marpeck of Rattenberg, situated in the Inn River valley, a citizen, with his wife, in whose house Anabaptist meetings were held…” He soon found work, probably as a member of the gardeners’ guild. This was shortly before his technical abilities came to light, because some time later he served the city as an engineer.

On the other bank of the Rhine, east of Strasbourg, lies the Black Forest, today a favorite tourist destination. In 1528, as in our day, the mountain slopes were covered with fir, birch, and beech, while lower down in the valleys oak groves grew. But the forests were at least fifteen to twenty miles from Strasbourg, and transporting logs over mountain roads was difficult, slow, and inefficient. To solve this problem, the city employed Marpeck. He was to arrange the delivery of timber from the mountains to Strasbourg by water. The Kinzig River divides the Black Forest into northern and southern parts and flows into the Rhine near Strasbourg, but its use for this purpose was limited to the spring season, when snowmelt waters rushed down torrentially. Marpeck’s appointment to this post clearly set him the task of utilizing the river at least during summer and autumn. He accomplished this by building a system of dams that retained water in spring. When the timber was ready for floating, the dam gates were opened, releasing enough water to float the logs downstream. In addition to dams, he also constructed a series of spillways, mainly to overcome the rapids and torrents that abounded on the Kinzig. He performed similar work on the Murg River to the north, as well as on several small streams flowing into the Rhine and rising in the Vosges mountains to the west. These engineering works greatly contributed to the economic prosperity of Strasbourg, and their benefit to the city was obvious, which made it possible for him to remain in the city, despite the fact that from the very beginning he was known as an Anabaptist leader. Undoubtedly, his work had lasting significance, since subsequent generations called the timber floated from the Black Forest “Pilgram’s wood.”

Martin Bucer and Wolfgang Capito were the most influential Protestant leaders in Strasbourg while Marpeck lived there. Capito highly valued him, and it was largely thanks to him that Marpeck remained in the city for so long. Bucer, however, was determined to get rid of him. To a significant extent, he was compelled by Marpeck’s open and sharp criticism of church affairs in Strasbourg, for whose condition Bucer bore primary responsibility. It is not surprising, therefore, that he disliked and feared Marpeck, since Marpeck was a strong and principled leader. His theological works reveal a man of deep intellect, especially when we recall that he was a layman without theological training. Although his writings are somewhat protracted and contain frequent repetitions, they show us a man who effectively addressed the fundamental religious problems of his time. Undoubtedly, he also read widely and listened attentively. Although the Strasbourg clergy considered his presence in the city fraught with possible disturbances, they said of Marpeck that he “possessed many gifts of God and in many respects showed most praiseworthy zeal,” and Bucer himself agreed that, although Marpeck was a “hardened heretic,” he and his wife exhibited “excellent, blameless conduct.”

But Marpeck wished to be not only a leader of the Anabaptist church in Strasbourg. He felt the need to expound his understanding of the Christian faith to other Christians, and since Bucer and his fellow clergy wielded great influence in the city, he approached them as well. Indeed, during a discussion with Bucer in December 1531, he said that the opportunity to hold such discussions with other Christians was the reason for his coming to Strasbourg. Because of his conviction that he must bear witness to his Christian brothers, he was ultimately expelled from the city.

From the very beginning of his stay in Strasbourg, Marpeck was known as an Anabaptist leader, but because of his professional skill he was not harassed. In 1531, however, Bucer began to lose patience, as Marpeck was influencing not only ordinary people but also persons of high social standing. Increasingly Bucer wrote to his friends that he could no longer tolerate his presence. At the end of 1531, Bucer secured Marpeck’s arrest and imprisonment, but his triumph was short-lived, for Marpeck was released without any preconditions, thanks to Capito’s intervention and, most likely, because the city needed him as an expert engineer.

This incident did not discourage Marpeck, and he took the next step: he petitioned the Council with a proposal to hold a public debate with the clergy. In his opinion, such a debate would promote a true understanding of the Christian faith. The Council, however, mindful of the public debate with Hans Denck held five years earlier, rejected his proposal, and instead arranged a disputation between Marpeck and Bucer, attended only by members of the city council and other officials of Strasbourg. The public was barred from the disputation because the Council feared that the Anabaptist leader’s logic would turn people against the established order in the city. At Bucer’s insistence, Capito took an extended leave and departed from Strasbourg. Thus, the stage for the contest was set. In reality it was not a contest but a baseball game in which the coach of one of the teams umpired the match. Under such conditions, the outcome was not difficult to predict. On December 18, the Council adopted a decree to the effect that if Marpeck did not renounce his views and attempts to “abolish infant baptism,” he would be expelled from the city. He was also warned that if he returned, he would very much regret it.

Marpeck calmly heard the verdict pronounced, showing neither anger nor agitation. He merely said that he could not promise never to return, for it might please God to have him return. He asked only for a four-month delay in order to sell his property and settle financial matters connected with his work. During this time he composed an extensive confession of faith of thirty-five printed pages. In response, Bucer wrote an equally extensive work, in which he examined Marpeck’s treatise point by point. These documents, along with the record of the disputation of December 9, clearly reveal two fundamental differences between the positions of the Anabaptist Christians and the Reformed in Strasbourg in 1531: baptism and the church’s relationship to the city authorities.

But we cannot limit ourselves merely to stating their positions on these matters. We must understand why Bucer defended infant baptism and why Marpeck rejected it; why Bucer was compelled to persecute the Anabaptists and why Marpeck pleaded for the granting of religious freedom. Perhaps we may succeed if we ascertain how these men understood and interpreted the Bible. Both believed that the Bible is the highest authority for the Christian in church and private life, but in their interpretation of Holy Scripture they ultimately found themselves at opposite poles on certain fundamental issues.

Interpretation of Holy Scripture

We begin our investigation with Bucer, because his interpretation of Holy Scripture and the position based on it were adopted as the official view of the authorities of the city of Strasbourg. It was precisely this interpretation that Marpeck criticized, and in comparison with which we must examine and understand Marpeck’s own interpretation. Bucer believed that the Old and New Testaments form an invisible unity, the Old Testament being practically as authoritative for the Christian as the New Testament. God made a covenant with Abraham, by which He mercifully and of His own will agreed to be God to Abraham’s descendants. This same covenant runs through the Old and New Testaments and reaches down to our own day. After the coming of Christ, people came to understand the meaning of this covenant better; they better understand what the Lord has done and what He desires of them, but the original covenant was not fundamentally changed or abolished as a result of His coming.

This understanding of the Bible had a profound impact on Bucer’s thinking. First, baptism in the Christian church came to be likened to circumcision in Jewish communities. Just as circumcision was instituted as a sign of the covenant, that is, it was a visible proof that this person was included in the covenant, so baptism was performed as a sign of the same covenant. It is a testimony that God is gracious, merciful, and desires to grant grace to this particular child. Faith is not connected with baptism, since both human sinfulness and salvation begin before faith arises. Every child is sinful because it has inherited sin from Adam, and therefore it needs God’s grace and forgiveness; consequently, it must also have the sign of baptism.

The second consequence of Bucer’s interpretation of the Bible was that, although not all the population of the city of Strasbourg were humble followers of Christ, nevertheless, all of them were to remain in the church just as all the Jews were included in the Old Testament covenant. This is like saying that anyone can join a baseball team regardless of whether he observes the rules of the game or not. Only God, Bucer said, could decide who is a Christian and who is not; man cannot make such decisions. In reality, Bucer adhered to the idea of predestination, the essence of which is that God, in His infinite wisdom, predestined some people to salvation and others to eternal damnation. But no one knows what God’s purpose is for any person. Thus, man cannot decide who belongs to the church, because even a hardened villain might be predestined for salvation. Therefore, to assert that such a person might not belong to the church is to put oneself in God’s place.

The third consequence was the need to sort out the relationship between the church and the civil governing body, which in Strasbourg was the city Council. Bucer believed that God has two kinds of servants. The first preach the word of God and tell people what is good and what is evil, like the prophets and priests of the Old Testament. The second, like the Old Testament kings, are to see that everyone acts righteously and to punish transgressors. This meant that all who opposed the priests, acted unrighteously, or disagreed with the priests’ statements were to be punished. An example can be the appeal made by Bucer and his fellow priests to the Council in December 1531 to punish those who spoke out against their teaching. Undoubtedly, Marpeck was among those against whom this appeal was directed. Bucer asserted that the magistrate has a Christian responsibility to bear the sword, for only Christians know what God requires of men. He also believed in the support of the Council for the good of those who did not have a strong enough will to act righteously; these weak people needed help to live righteously, under threat of force. Thus, the church and the governing authorities were closely interrelated, and there was some confusion in defining their responsibilities. The result of such an arrangement was that in making decisions regarding the life of the church, the Bible was often not the guide, but rather political and social considerations.

The fourth consequence of Bucer’s interpretation of the Bible was that since Christians had a fuller understanding of God’s will than the Old Testament Jews, most of the rules and regulations of the Old Testament lose their force. The Jews needed to observe the outward aspect of the law, such as offering sacrifices and eating special foods, because they lacked a correct understanding of the Holy Scriptures, whereas in the Christian church only faith and love were needed. As for the situation in Strasbourg, this simply meant that there was no definite order of church life in the city. It was assumed that every person had to belong to the church regardless of his conduct and regardless of whether he wished to be in it or not.

And now we turn to Marpeck’s understanding of the Bible and to his views on baptism and the relation of the church to civil government. For him, the Old and New Testaments constituted a unity, but of a different character compared to the unity found by Bucer. Marpeck asserted that the Old and New Testaments relate to each other as promise and fulfillment, as, in our days, for instance, the announcement of an engagement and the wedding itself are inseparable from one another, yet clearly distinct, for the former precedes the latter. When Christ came, the old law was replaced by the new. The old law loses its force because the new covenant in Christ has a different nature at its foundation, unlike the old covenant made with Abraham. One and the same merciful Lord gave to men both covenants, but the old covenant was characterized by a complex system of rules and regulations because, although people desired to do God’s will, they did not fully understand it and lacked the strength for it. This was, Marpeck said, a covenant of bondage. The new covenant, on the other hand, is characterized by freedom. No system of prohibitions and permissions is needed, because the people who have accepted it know God’s will, they are free and can fulfill it, for the Lord gives them the strength to do so. In short, this comes down to: in Marpeck’s opinion, under the old covenant people were forced to act righteously, and under the new covenant they are free to act righteously. From this view flowed four important consequences.

First, he believed that it pleased God for people to submit to Him of their own free will, without compulsion, and that every person could obey God if that was their choice. This means that Marpeck completely rejected Bucer’s doctrine of predestination; it pleases God that everyone should find salvation. And because he rejected predestination, he also rejected infant baptism, since a child cannot of his own will choose obedience to the Lord. Indeed, baptism in childhood forces a person to remain in the church, depriving him of any choice in the matter. Moreover, before a person can choose obedience to God of his own free will, he must repent of his sins and believe that God loves him and is pleased by his obedience—yet children can neither repent nor believe. Besides, we need not be anxious about the well-being of innocent infants. They are sinless until they are able to distinguish good from evil, and since they are sinless, they have no need to atone for sins; God has already received them, for Jesus said, “Let the children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God.” Even a child of Christian parents, once grown, enjoys no advantage before God, and therefore one should not assume that he already is or will be a Christian. He too must repent and believe in order to be saved.

The second consequence was that Marpeck regarded the New Testament as the supreme authority for the Christian life in the church. He agreed with Bucer that faith and love were foundational, but he went on to maintain that only the person who unconditionally obeys Christ possesses true faith and true love. And since in the New Testament baptism clearly follows faith, it must be so in our day; only those who have faith may be baptized. Jesus commanded his followers to love their enemies, and this allows no exceptions and means that Christians cannot take part in wars.

Third, because the New Testament is the supreme authority for the Christian, it supersedes the Old Testament wherever they conflict. Bucer called for a New Testament union of church and state, but for Marpeck that was a system of slavery. And since freedom is a defining mark of the New Testament, freedom in matters of faith must be taken with full seriousness, and this would inevitably entail the separation of the church from the world. For Marpeck, not only God’s grace mattered, but also the exercise of human free will. The church is a society only for those who consciously choose obedience to Christ. Therefore, entering the church is not simply receiving God’s grace, but also a readiness to live in obedience to it. To consider someone a member of the church when he does not willingly obey Christ is not doing him good. Bucer rejected such arguments because they inevitably led to the necessity of forming a new church.

The fourth and fifth consequences of Marpeck’s interpretation of Scripture were that he rejected the idea of two servants in the church—the preacher and the magistrate—which Bucer held. The preacher serves the church because he speaks of God’s love and mercy and offers them to people, but the magistrate has no place in the church’s activity, for in the church Christ alone moves human souls. The magistrate is appointed by God’s command to restrain those who have no desire to submit to Christ from doing evil. In practice, this meant the removal of all forms of coercion in matters of faith. No magistrate had authority even to pronounce judgment on such matters, let alone to compel people to accept such judgments. And since God is pleased by a free response from people, forcing them to believe what they are not convinced of runs contrary to God’s design. This also applies to children of Christian parents, who cannot simply be told what to believe; it applies likewise to those who hold different beliefs from those in power. To use the magistrate to punish dissenters or blasphemers is to admit that the word of Christ cannot accomplish what is claimed for it—namely, to correct sinners. Indeed, it simply contradicts God’s design and the Spirit of Christ to persecute anyone for faith or the lack of it. Those who do not wish to believe should be left to themselves; one should not expect them to live as Christians if they lack the strength to do so. In his confession of faith, Marpeck not only expressed his convictions but also explicitly called on the city Council to promote the rule of freedom of conscience and freedom of religion in Strasbourg.

Marpeck’s arguments convinced neither Bucer nor the Council, and in February 1532 he had to leave Strasbourg. We know almost nothing of Marpeck’s life in the following decade. In all likelihood, he remained a prominent leader, actively working among the Anabaptists of Germany, Switzerland, and Moravia. He traveled extensively and wrote, directing his letters to churches and individuals.

The Invisible Church

In 1542, a small book on baptism was published, which was essentially an analysis of the activities of Anabaptist preachers from Northern Germany. By publishing his book, Marpeck believed that it would help unite and strengthen the Anabaptist brotherhood. The book accomplished its task, but at the same time it attracted the attention of another dissenter, Caspar Schwenckfeld, who lived not far from Augsburg. He was not an Anabaptist but what might be called a “believer in the invisible.” He believed that what is truly real in life cannot be seen, and therefore everything that relates to such visible matters as baptism and the Eucharist is idolatry, because it distracts people from what is truly important. Since Marpeck defended the importance of the proper administration of baptism and the Eucharist in the church, Schwenckfeld considered this book an attack directed against him. In response, he wrote a book in which he accused the Anabaptists of a completely wrong understanding of the Bible and the Christian faith.

The position presented by Schwenckfeld proved to be a strong temptation for the persecuted Anabaptists. Why not, some of them quite seriously asked, give up baptism and the Eucharist if they have no significance? Why not become an “invisible church” so that we would no longer be subjected to persecution? These questions had already been asked in 1531 in Strasbourg during Marpeck’s stay there, and in the same year he wrote two pamphlets in which he spoke out against such views. Now he and several of his co-workers undertook the task of responding to Schwenckfeld’s criticism in a work numbering about 800 pages. In it, the main issue again was the interpretation of the Bible and, above all, the relationship of the New to the Old Testament. There is no need to present all the arguments in detail, since they almost repeat Marpeck’s arguments in the discussion with Bucer, which we have already described.

In 1544, Marpeck obtained a position as an engineer in the city of Augsburg, where he performed duties similar to those he had in Strasbourg. Although attempts were made to bring him to trial, he nevertheless remained in his position until his death in 1556. As an Anabaptist leader and elder, Marpeck was always concerned about maintaining the unity of the Anabaptist brotherhood. This concern is clearly evident in the fourteen extant letters, written by him personally to Anabaptists living in Strasbourg, Switzerland, Moravia, and Germany. He writes about the unity of the church; admonishes some that although a Christian is free in Christ, he cannot live unrighteously; criticizes others for judging one another too harshly. He calls members of the church who have become divided through ignorance or misunderstanding to reconciliation; very concretely points out the place of the minister in the brotherhood and touches on many other issues.

Pilgram Marpeck was the most outstanding leader and theologian of the Anabaptists in Germany. He made a great contribution to clarifying the Anabaptist interpretation of the Christian faith. Even today he inspiringly leads us, believers in Christ, to unity.

Chapter 6 The Anabaptists in the Netherlands

The waters of the Rhine have their source in Switzerland, from where the river runs to the sea through Germany and Holland, dividing in its lower course into several branches. The history of the Anabaptist movement in many ways resembles the course of the Rhine. Originating in Switzerland, Anabaptism gradually spread and penetrated into Germany and the Netherlands, where, like the waters of the Rhine, the movement divided into several currents.

New ideas possess enormous creative power, and at turning points in society their impact can be truly unpredictable — it all depends on people: some use new ideas for good purposes, others, on the contrary, for base and selfish ones, while still others, fearing any innovations, simply try to suppress and restrain their development. The history of the emergence of the Anabaptist movement in the Netherlands, from within which the Mennonite community arose, can serve as a very illustrative example of how the seeds of new ideas grow in the soil of a society already prepared for change. In this history, there was everything — ups and downs, humility and violence, creative, progressive development of ideas along with their perversion, as well as attempts at the crude suppression of the first shoots of the new movement.

Melchior Hoffman

The first preacher of Anabaptist ideas in the Netherlands was Melchior Hoffman, a gifted but poorly educated man. He was born in Swabia, southern Germany, in 1493. By trade he was a furrier or tanner. Melchior first attracted attention as a self-taught preacher, preaching extensively in the Lutheran churches of Sweden and the small Baltic states. After he was expelled from there, Hoffman went to Holstein in northern Germany, and then to Denmark. However, there too his preaching aroused displeasure, and he had to move first to Emden and then, up the Rhine, to Strasbourg.

Hoffman moved from one religious movement to another almost as easily as he journeyed from city to city. He began as a Lutheran missionary, then gravitated towards the ideas of Zwingli, and then to the even more radical Karlstadt, although they differed very substantially from Luther in the understanding of the Eucharist and other doctrines. However, thanks to original thinking and independent study of the Bible, mainly the Book of the prophet Daniel and the Revelation of St. John the Divine, Hoffman also developed his own system of views. In Strasbourg, he first became acquainted with the Anabaptists and assimilated not a little from their teaching. However, this time too Hoffman demonstrated his creative abilities and added a number of his own ideas to those of the Anabaptists. In the Netherlands, this new mixture of ideas and notions took shape as a separate teaching, whose formation is associated with one of the darkest pages in the history of the Anabaptist movement.

In 1533, shortly after he joined the Anabaptists, Hoffman left Strasbourg and returned to Emden. There his preaching found a lively response among the local residents, who were longing for change, and soon almost 300 of his new followers were baptized. From Emden, Hoffman sent missionary-preachers of the new doctrine to the Netherlands, and later he himself went there. By that time, his own quests were focused mainly on eschatology, and his views took on an openly apocalyptic character. During this period, Hoffman placed the main emphasis of his teaching on the nearness of Christ’s second coming and the establishment of His Kingdom on earth. Based on the predictions of Leonard and Ursula Jost, as well as Barbara Rebstock and other visionaries, he became convinced that Strasbourg was destined to become the New Jerusalem, and that he himself was none other than Elijah, called to announce to all nations the glorious new coming of the Lord. He made his way back to Strasbourg and began to preach there in accordance with these prophecies, until he was arrested and imprisoned. But this turn of events did not distress Hoffman at all, since Elijah’s imprisonment, according to the prophecies, is an essential condition for the onset of the coming kingdom. Obbe Philips, whom we will yet encounter on the pages of this book, gave this account of those events:

“So, following the words of the prophecy, Melchior returned once more to Strasbourg, and there he began to preach and teach in the homes of burghers. Then, to be brief, the authorities sent their officers and seized him. When Melchior saw that he would be sent to prison, he, thanking God that this hour had come, took off his hat, took out a knife, cut his breeches at the knees, threw off his shoes, and, extending his right hand to heaven, swore by the living and eternally existing God that he would not partake of any other food than bread and water until with this same hand he could point to Him who sent him. With these words Melchior went voluntarily and joyfully, in complete calm, to prison.” (Williams and Mergal, Spiritual and Anabaptist Writers, pp. 209, 210).

Hoffman remained in prison for about ten years, until his death. The prophecies he so passionately believed in, of course, did not come true, yet the influence he exerted on other Anabaptist leaders in the Netherlands noticeably affected the future course of events.

The Münster Tragedy

Hoffman sent two of his “apostles” to the Netherlands — the tailor Sicke Freerks, called Snyder, and Jan Folkertsz Trypmaker, bound for Leeuwarden and Amsterdam respectively. The freedom-loving Dutch, who at that time lived under Spanish oppression, readily responded to their preaching. The Spanish king, who also bore the title of Holy Roman Emperor, had established very harsh rule in Holland. Dissatisfaction with his government, against the background of the winds of social change sweeping across Europe, brought the people into a state of restless expectation. The constant movement of troops through the country caused the inhabitants great anxiety; severe floods also caused colossal material damage, claiming many lives, destroying houses, and killing livestock. As we know, trouble never comes alone — on top of all these misfortunes, the Dutch also suffered from epidemics of the plague. In Leiden, life became so hard that, according to eyewitnesses, many residents even prayed the Lord to send them a fever for a quick release from their suffering. Natural disasters and other calamities were perceived as signs of God’s wrath.

The medieval church, which was in a very sorry state, also caused dissatisfaction among the people. At the same time, many knew of the existence of the “Brethren of the Common Life,” a religious society that tried to revive the evangelical ideals through preaching and Christian education of the youth in schools specially created by them. With the development of printing, an increasing number of people gained access to the Bible. By 1530, within less than ten years, thirty editions of various translations of the full Bible and individual books of Holy Scripture had been published. Sacramentarians, who rejected the Roman Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist, were gaining strength. As early as 1527, three years before the Anabaptists appeared, a sacramentarian widow named Wencken from Monnickendam was arrested for heretical statements. To the question of the Inquisition court: “How do you understand the sacrament of the Eucharist?” she replied: “I understand that your sacrament is simply bread made of ordinary flour, and if you take it for God, then I consider that the devil is speaking in you.” The widow was promptly burned.

With the appearance of Hoffman’s emissaries in the Netherlands, many people believed that the Anabaptist teaching could bring them deliverance and show the way to a happier and more just life. Therefore, it is not surprising that many received their preaching with great enthusiasm. However, alas, not all enthusiasm bears good fruit…

After Hoffman’s arrest in 1533, Jan Matthys proclaimed himself leader of the Anabaptists in Amsterdam, immediately sending out twelve “apostles” to preach. They went out in pairs, and one of those pairs visited Leeuwarden in the same year, where they succeeded in converting and baptizing two brothers named Obbe and Dirk Philips, who became key figures of the Anabaptist movement in its infancy. Other “apostles” reached the city of Münster in northern Germany, where they began to prepare the ground for the subsequent notorious events that turned into a real tragedy for that city.

Arriving in Münster, the “apostles” of Matthijs quickly found several local preachers who shared their views, who willingly helped them settle in the city. This was immediately reported to Matthijs, and at the beginning of 1534 he himself moved to Münster, burning with impatience to see the fulfillment of the prophecy of his teacher Hoffman. True, Hoffman had predicted the Second Coming in Strasbourg, but Matthijs announced a new revelation, according to which Münster was already declared the New Jerusalem. But a far more important change in Hoffman’s teaching was Matthijs’s call for violence. If Melchior Hoffman taught his followers to peacefully await the Second Glorious Coming, after which the establishment of the earthly Kingdom of the Savior would follow, then Matthijs called for preparing a worthy place for the Coming Kingdom by force of arms. As a result, the inhabitants of Münster were soon faced with a choice — either immediately be baptized and join the Anabaptist movement, or leave the city. Matthijs’s supporters began intensive military preparations for the great battle, which was to be the prelude to the future Kingdom.

Concerned about this development, the bishop of Münster, whose residence was outside the city, with the help of several princes gathered an army and laid siege to the “New Jerusalem.” Matthijs, convinced of his own invulnerability due to special divine protection, attempted with a small group of supporters to break through the enemy ranks, but this attempt ended in failure — in the ensuing skirmish he was killed, and his body was thrown out on display right in front of the city gates. After Matthijs’s death, the leadership of the uprising was taken over by a baker from the Dutch city of Leiden named John Bockhold, whose ideas were distinguished by even more radical extremism. Declaring himself the new King David, Bockhold began to shepherd the city’s inhabitants “with a rod of iron.” Relying on misinterpreted examples from the Old Testament, he introduced polygamy and a number of other vicious and absurd institutions, which ultimately led to all kinds of mass atrocities and destruction, the burning of libraries, and the extermination of works of art. Famine and epidemics began in the besieged city. This fanatical kingdom of Bockhold ended on June 24, 1535, with the capture of the city by the bishop’s troops.

The Münster Anabaptist movement, which initially gave rise to so many hopes among the popular masses in Holland and northwestern Germany, now not only disappointed those who sympathized with it, but also seriously compromised Anabaptism as a whole. After Münster, the Anabaptists acquired the reputation of dangerous religious dreamers, homegrown mystics and revolutionaries. This was one of those sad, yet, alas, widely and well-known cases in history when persecution and suppression provoke an inadequate, overly radical reaction, which in turn convinces the oppressors of their rightness and prompts the application of even stricter measures.

Peaceful Anabaptists

Far from all Anabaptists in Holland joined the Münster movement or even shared the much more moderate and peaceable views of Melchior Hoffman. Thanks to the already mentioned brothers — Dirk and Obbe Philips, Anabaptism began to develop in another direction, which did not die out even during severe persecution, and in the person of Dirk Philips, who later became known as Dirk of Holland, the Anabaptist movement in Holland acquired one of the main exponents of its interests, a major theologian and church leader.

The Philips brothers were born into a priest’s family in Leeuwarden and probably received a decent education by the standards of that time. Obbe was a barber-surgeon (in the 16th century, combining these two professions was quite common), and Dirk was associated with the Franciscans and possibly even had theological training. Both brothers were baptized by the “apostles” of Jan Matthijs in December–January 1533–34, after which Obbe was immediately appointed elder, with a whole range of duties and the right to ordain other leaders of the movement.

Obbe did not accept the revolutionary teaching of Jan Matthijs and soon managed to gather around himself a new group of potential leaders who strove for a more serious and responsible study of Scripture. They rejected violence and did not recognize the prophecies that led to the Münster tragedy. However, Obbe’s spiritual searching did not end there. He worked persistently to restore order in the ranks of the Anabaptist movement, sometimes becoming even excessively strict as a legalist. But despite all his efforts to overcome anarchy, he could not overcome his own disappointment in Anabaptism after Münster, and in 1539–40 he withdrew from the movement, having previously ordained as leaders his brother Dirk, David Joris, and Menno Simons. Probably after this Obbe became a spiritualist and, retreating exclusively into inner spiritual life, no longer officially associated with any church. We know very little about his life after leaving the movement. It is known that he lived in Rostock in northern Germany and died in 1568. The only written document left by Obbe is his confession explaining the reasons for his withdrawal from the Anabaptists.

Dirk was a faithful companion to Obbe in opposing the revolutionary-minded Anabaptists of the Münster type. With the spread of his writings in Anabaptist circles, the authority of the peaceable current began to grow and strengthen, and Dirk might well have replaced his brother as the leader of the movement if not for the rise at the same time of another leader in the group — Menno Simons, who was destined to become the most important figure in the history of the first generation of Dutch Anabaptists.

Menno Simons

Menno Simons became an Anabaptist more than ten years after the first baptism in Zurich on January 21, 1525, and about six years after the “apostles” of Melchior Hoffman began their preaching in the Netherlands. He was born in the small village of Witmarsum, in the northern Dutch province of Friesland. His parents, in all likelihood, were farmers. Menno studied for the priesthood and in 1524 was ordained by the bishop of Utrecht, but his knowledge of Greek was poor and he knew no Hebrew at all. After ordination he was assigned to a parish that also had two other priests. The parish was located in the small town of Pingjum, a mile west of his native Witmarsum.

Later, recalling those first years of his priesthood, he wrote that he spent his time “playing cards, drinking, and other amusements that are the habitual occupation of all who waste their lives.” Menno did not commit grave immoral acts; he simply lived thoughtlessly, frittering away his time on trifles. Yet even in those years the young priest began to reflect and to doubt certain dogmas of the Roman Catholic Church. He was particularly troubled by the question of the physical presence of Christ’s Flesh and Blood in the Eucharist. It is possible that he was influenced here by the sacramentalists, who were numerous in Holland. Since neither prayer nor penitential confession could free him from his doubts, Menno turned to Holy Scripture in search of an answer. By his own admission, he took this step under the influence of Luther’s teaching. His independent study of the Bible led Menno to the conclusion that the Catholic Church’s teaching on the transubstantiation of bread and wine into the Flesh and Blood of Christ during Mass was false. Moreover, thanks to his biblical studies and meditation on Scripture, Menno gained a reputation among his parishioners as an evangelical preacher.

Soon another dogma began to cause him strong doubts. It all started when Simons learned of the execution of one of Hoffman’s “apostles,” Sicke Freerks (Snyder). Freerks was beheaded near Leeuwarden for having rebaptized himself. Menno immediately turned to Holy Scripture but could not find there a clear foundation for the practice of infant baptism. He then began to study the writings of the Reformed—Luther, Bucer, and Bullinger—but discovered that the arguments they advanced in favor of infant baptism were not unequivocally confirmed by Holy Scripture. Yet, despite all his doubts, Menno Simons continued to serve as a Catholic priest. Moreover, by that time he had been promoted in rank and transferred to his home town of Witmarsum. It was there that his reputation as an evangelical preacher truly took root, for Menno often had to speak before the people, denouncing the Münsterite heretics who were spreading their teachings among them. Menno knew the leaders of the Münster movement and even attempted to negotiate with them, but despite all respect for their fanatical devotion to their faith and their sincerity, he had no doubt that they were in error, and in his sermons he publicly tried to explain to his parishioners the complete wrongness of their views.

The turning point in Menno’s life was also directly connected with the Münster tragedy. A group of about three hundred rebels, on its way to assist the besieged followers of Bockhold, seized a monastery not far from Witmarsum. There the rebels were surrounded by the bishop’s troops. In the end, most of them were killed, and the rest were taken prisoner and executed. It is believed that among the rebels was Menno’s brother Peter Simons. This time Menno decided to move from words to action. On many points he agreed with the rebels, but he firmly rejected their blind fanaticism. And yet he experienced inward turmoil—for while these people, in many ways close to him in their views, were wandering like sheep without a shepherd toward inevitable destruction, he, fully understanding everything, was living in quiet and comfort and even strengthening his reputation through vivid denunciations of the Münster movement. Menno had a Frisian character typical of his people—unhurried and thorough, yet at the same time resolute and firm. The decision did not come easily, but after a long inner struggle he finally made his choice and broke with the past.

In a public statement made on January 30, 1536, Menno announced the beginning of his new ministry for Christ and then fled his native town with the help of peaceful Anabaptists, to whose views he was very close. Over the next year Menno devoted himself to the study of Holy Scripture and to extensive writing. It was undoubtedly during this period that he managed to definitively form that system of convictions to which he strictly adhered for the next twenty-five years up to his death. After a year of solitary labor, a small delegation of six to eight Anabaptists visited Menno and asked him to become the leader of their community. After some hesitation and reflection on the consequences of such a dangerous step as heading a persecuted religious group, Menno Simons agreed to take up this ministry and was ordained by Obbe Philips, from whom a short time earlier he had also received his new baptism.

In Search of His Way

As we already know, around 1539-40, i.e. two to three years after Menno Simons’ ordination, Obbe Philips withdrew from the movement, weary of battling both Roman Catholic traditionalism and the fanatical extremism of the Münster Anabaptists. If the former placed tradition above Holy Scripture, the latter fell into the opposite extreme, attempting to interpret every biblical text in light of their own dreams and aspirations. Between these two poles were the Lutherans and Calvinists, who, on the one hand, sought reforms, and on the other, retained many traditions inherited from the Catholic Church, and therefore sharply diverged from the Anabaptists on a whole range of issues.

Menno Simons was given the very difficult task of leading the just‑beginning‑to‑fledge Anabaptist community through various spiritual temptations and trials. He had to separate truth from half‑truth, oppose errors with clear teaching, inspire and encourage the persecuted and oppressed, correct and instruct the erring, and build a young, strong church, without losing heart from the fact that he himself was constantly hounded and persecuted as a heretic. During this hard struggle of the 1540s–1550s, Menno had many co‑workers, among whom Dirk Philips should be especially noted. Yet it was precisely thanks to Menno’s leadership that the Dutch Anabaptist movement was able to emerge from the crisis of its early years, overcome the lure of fanatical radicalism and extremism, and avoid what was a very probable collapse. Not without reason did Menno’s authority as the first leader become established, and all who joined the movement came to be called first Mennists or Mennonists, until finally the present name — Mennonites — became fixed for the members of the community.

It must be said that the greatest difficulty in the struggle that Menno waged in those years lay not in countering persecution by the Catholic Church or extremist ideas of religious fanatics. The hardest and most intense struggle he had to wage was with Lutherans, Calvinists, and even some of the brethren from his own inner circle. Here it was most difficult to work out an optimal course of action. For example, the Mennonites agreed with Lutherans and Calvinists on the basic points of doctrine that had emerged from the Reformation. In particular, they shared the Reformed dogma of justification by faith and the supreme authority of Holy Scripture in matters of faith, but they drew somewhat different conclusions from these dogmas. Thus, for the Mennonites, justification by faith meant that only sufficiently adult persons capable of believing consciously and making independent decisions could be baptized; in turn, in their view, only those in whose lives genuine fruits of faith were visible could become members of their church.

The Lutherans and Calvinists (Reformed), on the other hand, still held the opinion that for the safety of society a common religion was necessary. As an example, they pointed to the Münster events, which had shown what could happen if people were allowed to choose their own religious community or even to refuse membership in any church at all. In the 1540s, Menno, in his letters to the heads of these state churches, engaged in much polemic on these issues, and the greater part of the surviving documents written in his own hand date from this period.

In 1544, the first important meeting‑discussion on doctrinal matters took place in Emden with Jan Łaski, after which Menno issued two lengthy statements. The second discussion was with Martin Micron, pastor of the Reformed church in London. After Queen Mary, reversing the reforms of Henry VII and Edward VI, restored Catholicism as the state religion in England, the Calvinists had to leave the country. In the winter of 1553, they landed on the coast of northern Germany near Wismar. The Mennonites, themselves refugees at that time, extended a helping hand to the fugitives when their boat became stuck in the coastal ice and helped them settle in a new place where no one wanted to have dealings with them.

In February 1554, at the insistence of the Reformed leaders, a series of debates was arranged between them and the Mennonites. Micron, who had in the meantime settled in Emden, also came to the meeting. Contrary to the original purpose of the meeting, he published his account of the discussion, forcing Menno also to state his viewpoint publicly on all the issues raised and to answer the critical questions put to him by Micron. This was followed by another publication by Micron, and with that both the private and the public discussion came to an end. This whole story might have seemed quite harmless, had not the public discussion between two persecuted sects attracted the attention of the authorities and ultimately forced Menno to go into hiding once again.

Then Menno had to debate with Gellius Faber, who leaned toward Lutheranism, but in Emden collaborated with the Reformed Jan a Lasco. In 1544 Faber engaged in a debate with Menno, and in 1522 he wrote such an unjust pamphlet against the Anabaptists that Menno simply could not refrain from a public response. This work, entitled “Response to Gellius Faber”, contains an account of Menno’s conversion and the story of his call to ministry. Moreover, it sets forth very clearly and plainly the doctrinal differences between Mennonites and Lutherans and Reformed on such matters as baptism, the Eucharist, church discipline, the nature of the Church, and the incarnation of Christ. This debate made it completely clear that the Mennonites did not agree with these state churches on two fundamental points: the foundations of Christian living and the nature of the Church. On the first point, the Mennonites attached decisive importance to the new birth and the practical following of the Savior’s commandments in personal life, or discipleship. In their opinion, only those who had repented and personally experienced the operation of God’s grace could be baptized and become members of the church. The evidence of the new birth was to be considered, above all, a serious desire to live as disciples of Christ, wholly surrendering to the Lord’s will. Love and nonresistance were regarded as the most important marks of a person’s entry upon the apostolic way. As for the nature of the Church, the Mennonites asserted that it should be a free gathering of believers, i.e., church members are bound to one another only by common faithfulness to Christ and mutual love. Following Christ should naturally lead to separation from the world, and the life of exiles is a beneficial test, an instrument of God’s love that seeks to correct the erring and keep the faithful from mistakes. The use of arms, as well as other instruments of state power, to impose the church’s will upon people was rejected as contrary to the teaching of Christ and the apostles.

Batenburgers, Jorists, and Adam Pastor

In addition to the persecutions from these state churches and the Roman Catholics, Menno had to contend with all kinds of fanatics who not only hindered his work among his own people but also compromised the whole Anabaptist movement. The most active among them were the so-called Batenburgers, the Jorists, and Adam Pastor. The most dangerous, but fortunately also the most short-lived, group were the Batenburgers, who attempted to continue the aggressive traditions of Münster. They broke into and plundered churches and tried to kill all whom they could not convert to their faith. Moreover, following the example of Münster, they practiced polygamy and community of goods. Soon after 1544, the Batenburgers practically lost their influence, yet their misdeeds caused much harm to peaceful Anabaptists, since for a long time many people associated all Anabaptists with various excesses and violence.

The Jorists were followers of David Joris, a very gifted man with a strong gift of persuasion, who had also been ordained by Obbe Philips. It was Joris who made unsuccessful attempts to gather the remnants of the Anabaptists around himself after the fall of Münster. Over time, Joris in his teaching began to attach increasing importance to the operation of the Holy Spirit and to prophecies. It was then that his controversy with Menno began; Joris accused Menno of blindly following the dead letter of Scripture. But Menno had no doubt about the supreme authority of Holy Scripture and spoke out very sharply against Joris, who “dared to set his dreams, fantasies, emotional impulses, rhetoric, and other illusory things above the wisdom of the Holy Spirit, through whom the prophetic and apostolic Scriptures were given to us.” (T. J. van Braght, Martyrs Mirror. Scottdale: Mennonite Publishing House, 1951, p. 422). According to Joris, the history of mankind knew three distinct stages of gracious outpourings of the Spirit of God: the age of the Father, manifested by David in the Old Testament; the age of the Son, embodied by Jesus Christ in the New Testament; and the age of the Spirit, the exponent of which is Joris, the King David of his time. Since Joris believed that the inner spiritual life is the only thing that matters for a true Christian, he, when fleeing persecution, passed himself off as a Catholic or a Reformed believer, depending on the circumstances. At the beginning of 1545, Joris moved to Basel (Switzerland) under the guise of a Reformed merchant who had fled from Belgium, with the pseudonym Jan van Brugge. In Basel he lived the life of an honorable citizen and a universally respected church member, while continuing to maintain secret correspondence with his followers in the Netherlands, to whom he regularly sent small pamphlets with his instructions. After his death on August 25, 1556, as a result of a family quarrel, the secret of Joris came to light, to the great sorrow of his children, who by that time had started families of their own and had intermarried with the best families of the city. According to the rules of the time, the heretic’s remains were dug up from the grave and burned along with his books. As for his followers in the Netherlands, they managed to exist for several more decades until the beginning of the 17th century.

Another group that caused Menno much worry were the followers of Adam Pastor, a German priest whose real name was Roelof Martens. He joined the Anabaptists in 1533, and in 1542 was ordained by Menno as an elder. Martens took part in debates with the followers of Joris in Lübeck in 1546, as well as in conferences in Emden and Goch in 1547. However, it soon became clear that Pastor Adam did not really believe in the Holy Trinity and had doubts about the incarnation of Christ and His Divine Nature. Therefore, in that same year, 1547, Menno and Dirk Philips excommunicated him. In 1552, Menno met with Adam once more to discuss the deity of Christ, but he was unable to bring Pastor back into the fold. In all difficult questions, Menno always held to Scripture as the supreme authority, while Pastor placed logic and reason above all else. To give him his due, Pastor Adam was the most educated among the Mennonites and possessed undeniable intellectual superiority over the brethren; yet Menno and his followers always believed that the conclusions of even the most brilliant mind must be tested by Scripture—and not the other way around. Pastor died in the 1550s, and the group of his followers, after continuing for some time after his death, eventually broke up.

Thus, in his opposition both to traditionalists and to fanatical sectarians, Menno stood firmly on the Bible as the final and absolute authority in matters of faith and the ordering of life. He considered it necessary to test any prophecies, secret messages from the Spirit, visions, and theories against the Word of God. Moreover, both Menno and Dirk firmly held that the key to understanding the Bible lay, above all, in the teaching and life of our Lord Jesus Christ.

So, after the departure of Obbe Philips from the Anabaptists, Menno Simons labored tirelessly to gather and nurture his flock, but these labors cost him very, very dearly. Throughout most of his active church ministry, Menno was forced to hide from the authorities, who had set a price on his head. In 1536, he married a young woman named Gertrude, about whom, unfortunately, we know almost nothing. Nine years after his marriage, Menno wrote that “in the whole land there is not to be found even the smallest, poorest hut where my poor wife and our three little children could find safe shelter, even for a year or two.” And this is not surprising…

In January 1539, Tjaard Renicx of Kimswerd, a small village not far from Pingjum (Friesland), was executed merely for having given shelter to Menno. Of his entire family, only one daughter and one son outlived Menno; his wife, another son, and another daughter must have been unable to endure all the hardships of a wandering life. Menno himself became an invalid in his last years, though under what circumstances this happened remains unknown to us. Yet despite his infirmities, constant persecution, and other life hardships, Menno traveled widely. From Amsterdam, he journeyed to various places along the Baltic coast as far as Danzig, and perhaps even farther east. Menno was firm and stern with his enemies, kind and gentle with his brethren. In the heat of debate, he wrote pamphlets and theological tracts; at times he made mistakes, and in his writings he was not always consistent, often feeling bitterly the full weight of the burden of his calling. Yet on the whole, his views and judgments were marked by logic, sobriety, and common sense, as testified by the popularity of his writings and the great respect he held among his brethren, who for many years recognized him as the leader of the Anabaptist movement.

Testimony Through Suffering

Of course, leaders such as Menno Simons and Dirk Philips were necessary for founding a new church, but no less important for the church was the heroic faith of thousands of ordinary followers of the movement. These were, in the fullest sense, soldiers of the Cross, fighting only with spiritual weapons. One of Menno’s finest pamphlets, entitled The Cross of the Saints, is devoted precisely to the lot of such people, and many of his followers in the Netherlands came to know in full measure the meaning of the Lord’s Cross in the life of a Christian.

In the Middle Ages, church and state were so tightly linked that the state considered it its duty to impose everywhere the beliefs of the official church upon its citizens. Accordingly, if the church declared someone a heretic, he was considered dangerous to the state and was removed from society. The Anabaptists were deemed heretics, and their very name was deliberately chosen by their opponents to point to a connection with an ancient heresy and its corresponding punishment—in the Roman Empire, all who were baptized a second time were put to death. A similar attitude toward rebaptism persisted in the sixteenth century, especially in the Netherlands, which was under the despotic rule of Spain. Charles V treated Luther more tolerantly in Germany because he needed the military and political support of the German princes, but he was determined to root out the Reformation in the Netherlands. As a result, the Anabaptists—who were the most influential Protestant current in the country until around 1560, when the Calvinists began to move into first place—suffered very heavy losses. According to existing historical data, from the rise of the Anabaptist movement until 1574, when the last martyr was executed, between 1,500 and 2,500 Anabaptists perished in Belgium and the Netherlands.

Amid the fiercest persecutions, the Anabaptists displayed peacefulness, meekness, patience, and true Christian mercy even toward their persecutors. Typical in this regard is the story of a sixteenth-century martyr named Dirk Willems. He managed to escape from prison and put considerable distance between himself and his pursuers, even though his flight occurred in the dead of winter, and the prisoner’s footprints were clearly visible on the lightly crusted snow. In his path lay a frozen river. Dirk raced forward over the thin ice and had almost reached the far bank when he heard a cry from behind. He turned and saw that one of his pursuers had fallen through the ice and was calling for help. Without a moment’s hesitation, Dirk turned back and pulled the poor fellow from the icy hole. But then the others caught up. They did not dare pursue him across the thin ice, but the burgomaster leading the chase shouted from the bank to the very man whom Dirk had saved, ordering him to arrest Dirk, and he did not dare disobey. On May 16, 1569, Dirk was burned at the stake—thus he paid with his life for his good deed.

Captured heretics were treated with extreme cruelty. Most often they were stretched on the rack and tortured, their arms twisted and bones broken, in order to force them to reveal the names of fellow believers, especially the leaders of the movement. Those who showed fortitude and stubbornness even after torture were usually burned alive. Sometimes the inquisitors somewhat softened the horrible execution by strangling the victim before lighting the pyre. Occasionally a small bag of gunpowder was tied around the neck of the person condemned to be burned, and its quick ignition hastened the agonizing end. For those who renounced their Anabaptist faith, the court showed leniency, substituting the stake with the block. A milder form of execution for women was drowning, yet some sectarian women were buried alive in the ground. Hanging was used for both men and women.

Historical chronicles have brought down to us vivid testimonies of the remarkable steadfastness and unshakable faith of these people. Here is just one documentary account of the death of three brothers and one sister in 1536: “All four were stretched on the rack, even though they were not leaders of the heretics but merely ordinary citizens, rank-and-file followers of the movement. Yet, despite severe torture, they did not abandon their faith. Blood streamed from the wounds on the sufferers’ legs, but they maintained their faith and, relying on the Lord, called only upon Him in the hour of trial. Finally, when even the torturers grew weary of their fruitless torments, having failed to extract confessions, they were led back to the dungeon, where the brothers comforted one another with the Word of God (1 Thessalonians 4:18). At last, on September 4, they were condemned to death. All four mounted the scaffold calmly and meekly, without a shadow of fear or doubt, like true lambs of Christ. Kneeling with prayer, they, like the first martyr Stephen, cried out to God: ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit’ (Acts 7:59). Then their heads were quickly cut off, placed on stakes, and their bodies burned. Thus the martyrs of Christ offered their sacrifice for the Faith.” (J. C. Wenger (ed.), The Complete Writings of Menno Simons. Scottdale: Mennonite Publishing House, 1956, p. 1019).

The story of these early beginnings is more fully related by Fritz Blanke in Brothers in Christ (Scottdale, 1961), and by John H. Yoder in “The Turning Point in the Zwinglian Reformation,” Mennonite Quarterly Review, XXXII (April, 1958), pp. 128–40. Persecution compelled the Anabaptists from their very first steps to delve deeply into the foundations of their faith. Thomas van Imbroech, a printer’s assistant from Cologne, was imprisoned in 1557 for belonging to the Anabaptists. Two of his letters to his wife have come down to us, included in the martyr book Martyrs Mirror. In addition, his written confession of faith survives, revealing depth of thought and great power of conviction. In one letter addressed to his wife and fellow believers, he wrote: “If the Lord counts me worthy to testify to the truth of Christ with my blood, how much shall I thank Him, for I hope not only to bear these blessed chains with humility, but also to die for Christ’s sake, finishing my course worthily and with great joy. For I would rather be with the Lord than live in this terrible, sin-laden world. Yet, may God’s will be done in all things! Amen.” (Martyrs Mirror, p. 445. 5. Martyrs Mirror, p. 579.)

And it happened as Thomas foretold. On March 5, 1558, at the age of twenty-five, he was granted the privilege of sealing his testimony of faith with his death. The testimonies of Anabaptists during their executions were so powerful that efforts were increasingly made to execute them in secret, away from the crowds. When for some reason this was not possible, the prisoners were gagged. Since even this did not always help, and some of the condemned still managed at the last moment to push out the gag and shout their final words, their tongues were secured with a special clamp. In this way, the tip of the tongue was left protruding, exposing it to the flames of the pyre, which quickly deprived the martyr of the power of speech.

To be fair, it must be noted that sometimes there were people who sympathized with the Anabaptists and were unwilling to take part in their execution. Joris Wippe, formerly the mayor of Meenen in Flanders, after becoming an Anabaptist, moved to Dordrecht. Learning of the impending danger, friends, including some city officials, urged him to flee. Joris, however, did not heed their pleas and continued to live in Dordrecht. He was easily captured, tried, and sentenced to death. Yet the man assigned to carry out the sentence refused to execute Wippe and wept bitterly over the fate of the unfortunate victim, because in times past Joris had been very kind to him and had helped him feed his family during hard times. Wippe was eventually executed anyway, but another executioner had to be found.

The letters of these martyrs and their testimonies of faith constitute the most precious part of the writings that have come down to us. Many of them were included in the martyrology “The Mirror of the Martyrs.” Reading these documents, we see that they considered their martyr’s death as a crown and the highest proof of faith. God would not have laid such a heavy cross upon their shoulders if grace had not also been given to help them worthily endure all trials. Therefore, these steadfast believers thanked the Lord for the opportunity granted to them to testify so convincingly to the Truth. Moreover, the martyrs did not doubt that all their sufferings were merely trials on the way to Eternal Life, and without hesitation they followed the way of the cross appointed by the Lord to final victory, believing with all their souls that, having shared in Christ’s sufferings, they would also become partakers of His Glory, His Victory over death and sin.

Chapter 7 Anabaptist-Mennonites in Northern Europe /1550–1650/

Menno was a Frisian by nationality, a native of the northern part of the Netherlands, but his activity was not limited only to that area. Indeed, the greater part of his Anabaptist ministry took place outside the Netherlands. Everywhere he went, permanent congregations were founded. In those localities that Menno could not visit because of particularly severe persecution and where there were too few true believers, no lasting brotherhoods ever took root.

In sixteenth-century Europe, the differences between countries were not as great as in our time, and travelling from one country to another was much simpler. Only at the end of the sixteenth century did the Dutch Mennonites clearly define themselves as a religious brotherhood, and even then the brotherhoods in northwestern Germany, and even those as remote as the one in Danzig, had close ties with the Dutch congregations. Moreover, we need only glance at a geographical map of Northern Europe to realize the extent of the spread of Anabaptism in the mid-seventeenth century. In this chapter we will first visit Flanders, a province in the northwestern part of Belgium, then cross the strait to England, from there to Northern Germany, and also to the delta of the Vistula River, into the territory of Poland. And in conclusion, we will return and carefully examine the origins of the movement in the Netherlands.

Anabaptism in Belgium

The beginnings of Anabaptism in Belgium are very similar to its rise in the Netherlands. In Belgium, too, there were people dissatisfied with the state of the church and ready to receive new ideas. The apostles of Melchior Hoffman came to these parts and found thankful listeners. Although their preaching was not limited to Flanders, the impact of their message was felt most strongly in this province.

From 1530 to 1550, the largest Reformation party in these parts was the Anabaptists. The first martyrs, in 1523, were Lutherans, but Lutheranism in Belgium never became a mass movement. Until 1544 Calvinism also had little influence, but after 1550, during the war of independence against Spain, Calvinism gained strength. Later it, too, was driven out of Belgium, but it remains the largest Protestant body in the Netherlands.

Anabaptism spread through the efforts of merchants and weavers, who could move from place to place much more easily than people of other professions. With the issuance of edicts dated October 10, 1535, January 24, 1539, and December 14, 1541, directed against the Anabaptists, persecution began immediately. After the edicts came executions, and many were forced to leave their homes and go into exile. Very soon Flemish refugees were found in England and far to the east, in Danzig, where ships from Flanders arrived to trade with cities belonging to the Hanseatic League.

From archive documents we learn that the Anabaptists were actively engaged, but because of the severe persecution, leadership did not emerge in their midst. Thus, the account of the Anabaptists of Flanders is limited to reports of how God-devoted laypeople built, extended, and strengthened the church. From court archives we learn, for example, that in 1544, 600 copies of the writings of Menno Simons, printed in Antwerp, were found in the possession of Jan Claesz. Often, the testimony of the death of people devoted to God was just as effective in attracting new brothers as the testimony of their lives. From 1550 to 1576, the Anabaptist movement experienced a period of steady growth and consolidated its position.

These groups of believers were helped by their brethren from the Netherlands. Gillis van Aken, who worked with Menno and Dirk, labored in Belgium until his arrest in 1555. His life ended sadly. Although he showed weakness and recanted his convictions, it did not help him; van Aken’s mode of execution was simply changed: instead of being burned, he was beheaded. As eyewitnesses related, at the execution he said: “This is too much—to lose both body and soul at the same time.” Another prominent missionary, Leonard Bouwens, also worked there. In his diary there are records of more than 10,000 baptisms he performed, with the exact date and place of each. Of these, 592 baptisms were performed on Belgian territory. As far as we know, this number is a record for the entire Anabaptist movement. A letter from Menno Simons to Bouwens’ wife has been preserved, in which he encourages her and advises her not to worry about her husband, who is safe under the protection of the Lord Himself. In all likelihood, she wished that her husband were closer to home and asked that he be given a less dangerous assignment.

The period from 1576 to 1586 was a time of relative freedom for Anabaptism. The war between the Calvinists, who were striving for independence, and the Catholics, who remained loyal to Spain, distracted the authorities from persecuting other dissenters, although neither side desired the spread of Anabaptism. Persecutions resumed in 1586, when the Spaniards—and consequently the Roman Catholic Church—gained victory over the Calvinists. Under pressure from the Catholics, a new exodus of Anabaptists began toward the north, to the Dutch provinces, where there was greater religious freedom. Some headed to Belgian cities to find a more secure hiding place, but eventually they were forced to flee even from there. By 1640 very few Anabaptists remained in Belgium; the execution of martyrs and emigration had greatly reduced their ranks. Thus, of the promising beginnings of Anabaptism in that country, only a glimmer of its former glory remained.

Anabaptists in England

Tracing the development of the Anabaptist movement in England is difficult, but for that very reason interesting. It is difficult because no single church group can be considered the result of Anabaptist activity, and because most of the documents we possess come from their opponents and persecutors. The problem is interesting because England differed greatly from the Germanic lands from which most Anabaptists came, and also because at least three major denominations—the Independents, the Baptists, and the Quakers—retain signs of Anabaptist influence upon them.

As early as 1535–36, twenty-five Dutch Anabaptist refugees were arrested and brought to trial in England. Yet Anabaptist writings had been known there even earlier. Most of these first refugees arrived in England fleeing the fury of the victors after the tragedy that befell the city of Münster, such as Jan Matthijsz from Middelburg (not to be confused with Jan Matthijs of Münster). England became more tolerant of religious dissidence later, during the reign of King Edward VI (1547–53), than it had been under Henry VIII, his predecessor, and the queen who succeeded him, Mary. Under King Edward, opposition to Anabaptism was limited to attempts at persuasion and, in extreme cases, imprisonment; as a result, Anabaptists soon began to act more openly. Most of them lived in London and along the east coast, where refugees from Flanders first landed. Many of them were weavers, and since the weaving industry in England was expanding and there was great demand for cloth on the European continent, the refugees were readily allowed to settle in England.

Under Queen Mary (1553–58), persecutions intensified, but it is difficult to single out Anabaptist martyrs from among many other Protestants. Nevertheless, it is very telling that the largest number of martyrs came from those regions where Anabaptism had particular influence. During the time of the Duke of Alba, who pacified Belgium with fire and sword from 1567 to 1573, thousands of refugees sought shelter in England, where Elizabeth was queen. In 1560 she issued an edict against Anabaptism, and another in 1568, and she also established an ecclesiastical commission to identify and prosecute all Anabaptists living in the country. The Martyrs Mirror contains a long list of Anabaptists arrested and persecuted in London in 1575 (pp. 1008–24).

After 1580, a new era began for the Anabaptists in England. An atmosphere of religious tolerance took hold, and groups of believers began to separate from the state church and organize themselves. Some of their foundational ideas were identical or similar to the principles of Anabaptist teaching, such as the separation of church and state, baptism only of those who had reached a mature age, and the freedom of local congregations from state control. Once again, the guiding centers of these groups were located in places where there had been many Anabaptists before. A significant number of the members of these new groups had close ties to Dutch Mennonites, and some even went to the Netherlands in search of still greater freedom. An example is the story of John Smyth, who arrived in the Netherlands with his group in 1608. Two brotherhoods were formed: one in Amsterdam under Smyth’s leadership, and another in Leiden led by John Robinson. Of these brotherhoods, archival documents say: “The General Baptists owe their origin to Smyth’s brotherhood, which adopted the baptism of adults as a result of contacts with the Dutch Mennonites. … Members of Robinson’s church were among the Pilgrim Fathers when they sailed to the New World in 1620.” (Mennonite Encyclopedia, II, p. 218).

The influence of Anabaptist teaching is most noticeable among the Quakers, who emerged in 1604. In the seventeenth century, George Fox and other Quakers often visited Mennonites in the Netherlands and Germany.

In conclusion, one may say that Anabaptism did not become a permanently established church community in England, and its numbers there were never large. Yet its teaching and religious practice exerted a significant influence on the history of the English Protestant church. The name “Anabaptists” was lost, but some communities adopted such fundamental positions that Mennonites living in Germany, Switzerland, France, and the Netherlands during those years kept themselves apart from them.

Mennonites in Northern Germany

In the previous chapter we told how Melchior Hoffman preached and baptized in Emden, in the province of East Frisia. The religious tolerance of its rulers and its favorable geographical position made Emden a crossroads of northwestern Europe. Between 1536 and 1544, Menno Simons often visited this city. The Mennonites held several historic meetings in Emden. In 1547 Menno met there with six of his fellow laborers and discussed with them questions related to the incarnation, infant baptism, and avoidance—that is, whether a husband or wife should withdraw from the marriage partner when the brotherhood had imposed disciplinary measures on that partner. Typically, seven presbyters took part in such gatherings, each responsible for a particular work in various regions. On January 17, 1568, the Waterlander Mennonites assembled in Emden and adopted an agreement on twenty-one points as a basis for joint work. Even later, from February 25 to May 17, 1578, Flemish Mennonites discussed fourteen points of doctrine with representatives of Reformed churches in the same place, holding 124 sessions.

At the end of the 1530s, Mennonites could be found south of Emden, down the Rhine near the present-day Dutch border, but severe persecution depopulated their settlements. Menno Simons labored in that region after 1544, during the rule of Hermann von Wied, Archbishop of Cologne, but when a more zealous Catholic replaced the archbishop, the Reformation in those parts was stamped out. Thomas van Imbroich, whom we met in the previous chapter, and others nevertheless tried to continue their work.

At the end of the sixteenth century, Mennonites again found refuge in this area, in the city of Krefeld. From then on, Mennonite history has been closely intertwined with the city’s history down to our own day. The Mennonites contributed enormously to the economic, social, and cultural development of the city, turning it into an important center of the textile industry. Later, the Krefeld congregation proved to be the only one that managed to survive.

East of Emden, along the northern coast of Germany, lies the land of Schleswig-Holstein, where Mennonite refugees had long settled on the estates of sympathetic nobles who knew them as sober, orderly, and enterprising people. The land there was marshy, but these refugees, like all Dutch, knew how to build dikes and drain swamps, making the soil suitable for agriculture. For these reasons, the nobility not only tolerated them but also extended patronage to them, warning them of impending dangers. Congregations were formed not far from Hamburg and Lübeck, and later in Altona near Hamburg, where they remain strongly established to this day. Here the attitude toward them was tolerant, and by law each Mennonite family paid an annual tax of one thaler. In 1605 it was reported that 130 families were living in Altona.

Menno moved into these parts, where he spent the last years of his life. Before that he had lived in Wismar, from which he had to flee in 1554 after a disputation with Micron. He then settled on the estate of Bartholomeus von Ahlefeld, between Lübeck and Hamburg, where he set up a printing press and worked actively as a writer. There he died on January 31, 1561, and was buried in his own garden. During the Thirty Years’ War (1618–48), the estate was devastated and the Mennonite congregation dissolved. Today a monument to Menno Simons stands on the site; the house that contained the printing press is preserved, and a huge linden tree, called Menno’s Linden, still grows there.

Settlements in the Vistula Delta

Mennonites found refuge in another region on the Baltic coast. Here, too, they were welcomed because of their diking and farming skills. Moreover, in the free city of Danzig, as well as on the large estates of the local nobility, there was greater religious freedom. Many of these estates were in Poland, and for a time it seemed that there might be as much religious liberty as in Strasbourg. For this reason, and because the trade route from Amsterdam to Danzig ran by sea, many Mennonites and other Dutch people came to the Vistula Delta in the 1530s and later.

Soon a Mennonite congregation was formed and began to grow rapidly. Close ties were maintained with the churches in the Netherlands, as old letters preserved in the Amsterdam museum testify. Menno Simons visited this congregation in 1549 to help the brethren resolve a church problem, and Dirk Philips lived in Schottland, a suburb of Danzig, from about 1561 until nearly his death in 1568. Congregations were established near the cities of Danzig and Elbing and farther east, not far from Königsberg. Typically, Mennonites were not permitted to settle within the cities themselves and were constantly subjected to repression by the state church. Nevertheless, they remained a large and influential community until the Second World War; the majority of Mennonites who migrated to Russia in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries came from these brotherhoods.

Division among the brotherhoods

While experiencing the hardships of establishing themselves as a religious movement amid persecution, the Dutch Mennonites also faced internal problems that troubled them. To some, these problems seemed to mark the loss of earlier dreams; to others, they were a regrettable but humanly understandable and necessary part of the brotherhood’s growth toward Christian maturity. We have already seen the extremes that arose when David Joris gave unconditional credence to prophecies and when Adam Pastor began to press for unitarianism, and how the majority under Menno’s leadership rejected these currents. Yet where ought one to stop when separating from those with whom you disagree? A significant portion of Mennonite history from 1555 to 1650 shows that answering the question of where to stop when a brotherhood is threatened with schism is no easy matter.

In the disputes of this period, certain shortcomings came to light. The necessity of preserving purity of faith and religious practice, for example, is a need that the church and Christians must feel at all times. But how can we prevent the struggle for purity of faith from turning into unrighteous judgment against those who also sincerely strive for it, yet find different answers to similar questions? For some, the church as an organization demanding total agreement and perfect purity gained the upper hand over their love and concern for people who needed the brotherhood and its support. Personal rivalry also played a part, though not all were willing to admit it. Even such prominent leaders as Menno, Dirk Philips, and Leonard Bouwens were not free from such weaknesses, which led to tensions in relationships and a lack of a spirit of forgiveness.

To a large extent, the difficulties arose from their wandering life and persecution. People who moved to other places brought with them the customs and traditions of their homeland, which sometimes became a source of friction and disagreement in the new surroundings. For example, the Flemish from Belgium were rather hot-tempered and very emotional in their expressions; they valued fine clothing and enjoyed good food. The northern Frisians, into whose territory they came, were reserved and did not openly express their feelings; they were not easily provoked, but if offended, they remembered it for a long time. They were less concerned about how they were dressed, but they had beautiful household utensils and bed linen. Such differences complicated life, despite the common Anabaptist faith these people professed.

There were also differences regarding how to perceive the faith and how to live by it. Some wanted to put new ideas and new religious practice into effect, while others clung to the old, tried-and-tested ways. Undoubtedly, both groups loved the church, but their attitude toward it became a cause for disagreement. It should be remembered that most of these people had experienced persecution and believed unconditionally in their doctrine. Those who were willing to go to their death for their faith were often ready to sever all ties with a brother they considered to be in the wrong; this was the legacy of times when religious convictions were deeply rooted in people’s consciousness, and tolerance was not numbered among the virtues.

Waterlanders

Mennonites from the Netherlands and the northern regions of Germany nowadays represent unions of congregations that were once divided. This division took place approximately in the sixteenth century between the Waterlanders, who received their name from the area where they lived, abundant in rivers and lakes, north of Amsterdam, and the followers of Menno Simons. The Waterlanders opposed the strict application of the church ban and the shunning of the offender. Menno himself might have cooperated with them had it not been for the pressure exerted on him by Dirk Philips and especially Leonard Bouwens. Since the church must “keep itself without spot or wrinkle” as the bride of Christ, a church ban was imposed on the husband, Sven Rutgers, around 1556—the reason for it has been forgotten. But Sven Rutgers continued to live with her spouse despite Bouwens’ demand that she leave him; for her disobedience, she too was placed under the ban. In protest, the more moderate believers from among the Waterlanders withdrew from the congregation and formed their own, which Bouwens, regrettably, immediately dubbed “a cart for rubbish”—that is, they no longer insisted on maintaining church purity. Nevertheless, the Waterlander congregation continued to expand, clearly reflecting the sentiments of a significant portion of Mennonites. By thus setting themselves against Menno Simons, even though he was far more moderate than Bouwens, they obviously had no desire to be called Mennonites and were known simply as Waterlanders. Beginning in 1568, they were the first congregation to hold regular church conferences with broad representation. Under the leadership of men like Hans de Ries, they actively sought to achieve unity among the various Mennonite congregations. They themselves preferred to be called “Doopsgezinde,” which translates as “baptism-minded.” Even today, all Dutch Mennonites call themselves by this name.

The Frisian-Flemish Schism

Only five years after Menno Simons’ death, a serious division occurred among those who had united under his leadership during his lifetime. This was the most serious schism among Dutch Mennonites, the consequences of which were not quickly overcome, even though there were no differences over matters of faith. Both parties later subdivided again, but on the whole that was less significant for the Mennonite movement. The history of this schism appears extremely complex, and the sequence of events is not always clear. Nevertheless, it is quite possible that examining this situation may prove helpful for understanding how people who, in principle, were right acted wrongly, and how difficult reconciliation becomes once a schism is allowed to continue.

As was indicated earlier, a large number of Flemish Mennonites arrived in Friesland, which complicated the life of the local congregations. In 1560, the church councils in four cities—Harlingen, Franeker, Dokkum, and Leeuwarden—concluded an agreement on cooperation, but for some reason they kept it secret. Of the nine articles of the agreement, three dealt with the work of ministers in all four brotherhoods, assistance to the poor, and procedures for settling disputes that could not be resolved locally. The Flemish, feeling bypassed, wished to include their minister in the group with the others, but his ministry was called into question by the rest because of the secrecy surrounding the agreement. When the agreement was made public, the Flemish considered their rights to have been violated. Irregularities occurred during the voting of the brotherhoods on the Flemish minister, which caused subsequent difficulties.

In this situation Jan Willems and Lubbert Gerrits from Hoorn were persuaded to come and serve as judges in the matter, and both sides agreed to accept whatever decision they might make. After thorough study they sorted out the essence of the question and in February 1567 convened a meeting for reconciliation, which many people, including outsiders, attended. After an introductory section delivered in a sensitive manner, the Frisians were asked to kneel and pray for forgiveness for their errors. When they rose, the Flemish were asked to do the same, but they were told that the Frisians would help them to rise from their knees because the greater part of the guilt lay on them, the Flemish. Anyone familiar with the Flemish temperament would have foreseen the consequences; some accepted it, but the majority were outraged to an extreme degree, as a result of which the schism deepened. The last hope was the arrival from Danzig of Dirk Philips, who with two local leaders tried to assist, but achieving peace was no longer possible.

The Frisian-Flemish schism spread across northern Europe, giving rise to ever more questions, and eventually very few could say with certainty how it all began. The schism, in turn, afflicted each of the two sides, which came to be called «Old Flemish» and «Young Frisians», and these groups in turn began to divide into smaller ones. In Emden a genuine tragicomedy took place, where the minister Jan Opgoorn ended up excommunicating everyone from the brotherhood except himself and his wife!

When people take their convictions seriously and strive for spiritual purity, they can fall into the temptation of making excessive demands of others. They may not even be aware of their own weaknesses. And such factors as rivalry between younger and older generations, between leaders and congregations that had coalesced around a particular idea or religious practice, become causes for pride or disappointment. In the sixteenth century many Mennonites became Calvinists because of disagreements and schisms. It may also be that Mennonites have not yet fully resolved the problem of how, while sincerely striving for spiritual purity and holding firmly to their convictions, to avoid schisms between equally sincere believers.

Hans de Ries and Unity

But the picture of the church was not as grim as the history of schisms might suggest. People with broader vision and greater magnanimity of spirit tried to rise above disagreements and restore unity. Lubbert Gerrits, who had tried unsuccessfully to prevent the schism between Frisians and Flemish, later made great efforts to achieve unity; but we will recount more fully about Hans de Ries. He stands as a kind of symbol of all who shared his outlook.

Hans de Ries was one of the refugees who came north from Belgium. He was born on 13 December 1553 in Antwerp. A member of the Reformed Church and even called to ministry in its ranks, he objected to the fact that believers came to church bearing weapons to repel an unexpected attack. He considered the Mennonites too divided and stubborn to join them, until he came north and met the Waterlanders. In 1575 or 1576 he was baptized by Simon Michels and joined this congregation. Although he returned to Belgium and married there, persecution, including the burning at the stake of his close friend Hans Brea, forced him to flee again. He settled in Alkmaar, but from 1578 until approximately 1600 he lived in Emden, leaving that city during his wanderings. In a sermon preached shortly before his death, as an octogenarian, he recounted how the poor and persecuted church of his youth had become wealthy and accepted by society, but also how much spiritual steadfastness had been lost during that time. Out of a desire to remind the children of the heritage of their martyr parents, he had already in 1615 published a history of the martyrs, which became the basis for the fuller and well‑known «Mirror of the Martyrs» written by van Braght. He also published a collection of church hymns, which was reprinted six times after its publication in 1582.

In Alkmaar he helped compile the first known confession or statement of faith of the Dutch Mennonites, which later played a major role in developing additional confessional articles. Mennonites to some extent resisted adopting such confessions because they were seen as substituting for the Bible, considered the sole authority, but in that period many other confessions and creeds nevertheless arose among the brotherhoods of Dutch Mennonites. These were not intended to evaluate the orthodoxy of each one. The confessions explained the Mennonite interpretation of disputed questions; groups of believers used them to discuss differences and achieve unity, and congregations used them both to unite with others in a spirit of brotherhood and to express a common faith when receiving others into the brotherhood. The primary mark, however, remained a life of discipleship rather than agreement with the articles proposed.

In his work aimed at seeking unity, Hans de Ries is known more for manifestations of a benevolent spirit than for achievements. For instance, in 1601 he succeeded in uniting several groups into an organization called the «Reconciled Brotherhood», while those who did not join organized the «Separated Brotherhood». From 1610 to 1615 he labored persistently to help the Brownists join the Waterlanders; the Brownists were a group of refugees from England who in many respects believed as the Mennonites did and wished to join them, which eventually happened. De Ries carried on extensive correspondence in the interests of the church, and he was often asked to resolve difficulties that arose in 1608 in Haarlem, in 1618 in Workum, and in 1626 in Amsterdam.

However, Hans de Ries was not the only one who labored for the unity of the Mennonites. In early 1574, Jan Willems of Hoorn managed to reach an agreement on the application of church excommunication, which many hoped would make unity possible. The agreement was signed in the town of Humsterland, in the province of Groningen, and was called the “Peace of Humsterland,” but the Flemish presbyters did not accept it, and attempts to achieve peace in the towns of Emden and Hoorn in 1578 were unsuccessful. In 1591, the Cologne concept facilitated an agreement between the Frisian brotherhoods and those of Upper Germany, and later the Waterlanders joined them. In 1632, a confession of faith was drawn up in Dordrecht, uniting many groups of believers. This Dordrecht confession spread widely among conservative Mennonite groups, partly because of the emphasis placed on the observance of discipline and foot washing, two elements not found in other confessions. The Palatinate/Pfalz and Alsatian churches adopted this confession in 1660, and it was later brought to America.

Another step toward unity was taken in 1626, when four ministers of the Flemish congregations in Amsterdam sent a letter to all the churches in the Netherlands, asking: what are the marks of the Christian church, do only the Flemish brotherhoods possess them, and • is peace forbidden by Scripture? The answers were not too encouraging; therefore, on September 16, 1627, they drafted a letter preparing the conditions for peace and sent it out together with a confession of faith. The confession was called the “Olive Branch” because it was composed as a sign of peace. Further steps were taken until, on October 2–5, 1630, the Flemish and Frisian brotherhoods of Upper Germany joined with them.

These numerous attempts to achieve unity did not bring all Mennonites together. Two more centuries would pass before this happened, yet forces for unity were at work, overcoming the tendency toward division. By the mid-seventeenth century, the Dutch Mennonites had fully adapted to the life of the country and no longer wasted their energy on internal disputes. They entered a Golden Age, assessed by its successes in trade and achievements in culture. But not everything from this Golden Age benefited the church, as Hans de Ries had also observed.

Golden Age

The last martyr among the Dutch Mennonites died in 1574. With the Netherlands gaining independence from Roman Catholic Spain, Prince William of Orange pursued a policy of religious toleration, the fruits of which the Mennonites soon enjoyed. In the town of Middelburg, local authorities closed shops belonging to Mennonites, trying to force them into military service, but on January 26, 1577, Prince William wrote them a letter, ordering that the Mennonites be left in peace, since they were peaceful and useful citizens. And after the adoption of the Union of Utrecht, every person could freely profess his religion.

This did not mean the end of all pressure, but Mennonites no longer faced the danger of going to prison or the stake for their faith. Reformed clergy still harassed them, even rudely interrupting their worship services and mocking them, but the government increasingly came to their defense. Nonetheless, full freedom of worship did not exist for them until the nineteenth century.

The Mennonites, however, found their place in the life of the country. Overseas trade with Greenland, whaling, and herring fishing were almost entirely in the hands of Mennonites. Most of them did not engage in trade with the East India Company, because the ships had to be armed with cannons or sent on voyages accompanied by an armed escort to protect them from pirates, and the Mennonites still maintained their heritage of nonresistance. Therefore, they engaged in less profitable but still lucrative trade in the eastern seas. Mennonites were also active in shipbuilding and the timber trade. In Amsterdam and along the Zaan River, they dominated the food processing industry, and in Drenthe they formed the backbone of the textile industry.

But most notably, the Mennonites were distinguished by their literacy, partly due to the desire to read the Bible and the history of martyrdom, but also because it provided an opportunity to attain a higher position in society. In the seventeenth century, a high percentage of physicians were Mennonites, since this was one of the professions open to them. And because physicians were the most educated people in the brotherhood, they often served simultaneously as pastors. As engineers, Mennonites made significant contributions to the draining of swamps. Many of them also engaged in agriculture and became recognized leaders in that field.

In the realm of fine arts, the Mennonites soon contributed a number of well-known names as well. Karel van Mander, who lived from 1548 to 1606, was a poet and painter, a member of the “Old Flemish” congregation in Haarlem. Jan Luyken, who lived from 1649 to 1712, also became famous for his work in painting and poetry; the engravings for the second edition of “The Mirror of the Martyrs” were done by him. The Dutch Shakespeare was Joost van den Vondel (1587–1679), whose parents had fled from Antwerp because of their faith. He served as a deacon among the Waterlanders but around 1640 left them and joined the Roman Catholic Church. Painters and master engravers included Salomon van Ruysdael (1602–1670) and Govert Flinck (1615–1660). Whether Rembrandt (1606–1666) was ever a member of the Mennonite brotherhood is disputed, but he was closely associated with it, which undoubtedly influenced the religious content of his canvases.

These advances in material and cultural spheres affected people’s spirituality. A century after Mennonites endured suffering for their faith, attitudes toward them became tolerant, and many grew wealthy. At the same time, many Mennonites no longer believed as deeply in the things for which their fathers had died. A tranquil life and luxury accomplished what persecution and oppression had failed to achieve. Galenus Abrahams, a leading minister in Amsterdam, suggested that the devil had found a clever way to influence Mennonites: he stopped the persecutions and made them interested in the material goods of this world. The words of Hans de Ries pointed precisely to this when he said: “Goods increased, but the soul grew impoverished. Clothing became expensive, while inner beauty vanished. Love cooled and diminished, and strife increased.”

In the mid-seventeenth century, nothing from outside seriously threatened Mennonite life; leaders arose who sought to halt the process of internal cooling. They collected martyr narratives, writings of heroes of the faith, and wrote the history of their heritage in order to renew the continuity of generations. They left a rich collection of works, but all this nevertheless could not prevent people’s weariness from internal dissensions and external persecutions. The peak of the brotherhood’s numerical strength and activity had already passed, and the next century and a half witnessed a gradual but steady decline in the activity of the Mennonite movement.

Chapter 8 A Summary of Anabaptist Views

“Zwingli drew me to this activity,” said Conrad Grebel about the beginning of his ministry, thereby acknowledging the influence that reformer had on him. Representatives of each of the main streams of the sixteenth-century Reformation—Lutheran, Reformed, and Anglican—zealously defended the independence of their origins, as if a claim to grounding in God’s Word could be shaken by admitting a connection between these streams. The Zurich Anabaptists esteemed and respected Zwingli, for they owed him much. Only when they became convinced that Zwingli was no longer willing to act in obedience to the insights given him did they permit themselves to form an independent religious movement. Therefore, when we seek to clarify and understand the convictions that formed the basis of what Harold Bender called the “Anabaptist Vision,” we should remember that it was not the Anabaptists’ intention to create a new creed or an independent church organization; they simply desired to correct the inconsistencies they observed in other attempts at Reformation.

Only Holy Scripture

Every stream of Protestantism committed itself to following the Bible as the supreme and sole authority in its doctrine and worship. However, the “official” Reformation still placed on secular authorities the responsibility for deciding church matters and changing worship practices so that they would correspond more closely to Scripture. Thus, Zwingli agreed to a delay of a year and a half on the question of abolishing the mass because the government was not ready. This was discussed on 27 October 1523, as recounted in chapter 2. Zwingli: “My lords /the city council/ will decide how the mass is to be dealt with henceforth.” Simon Stumpf: “Master Ulrich, you cannot hand over the decision of this matter to my lords; it is not for them to decide—the Spirit of God decides.”

This exchange does not mean, as some scholars think, a clear and final break between Zwingli and his more radical disciples. It does, nevertheless, reflect the Anabaptists’ conviction that the authority of Scripture stands above the authority of government. Such conviction, as we know, would later become a cause of repressive measures by the government, since Anabaptists would refuse to take part in wars, to swear oaths, and would call for an end to religious persecution and the abolition of the death penalty—but above all it matters for the church. The organization, worship, and teaching of the church are not the prerogative of secular government. Although this is a widely held opinion today, in those days only the Anabaptists maintained such a position.

By the Power of the Holy Spirit

If Scripture is to be the sole guide in faith and worship, it is logical to ask how it should be read, because every preacher and theologian interprets it in his own way. The answer of Luther and Zwingli in the early phase of their work—whose meaning they later abandoned but the Anabaptists remembered—was clear: in the gathered brotherhood. They believed that when Christians gather where God’s Word is preached, some listen, some prophesy, and others weigh what is said /1 Cor. 14:29/, and then the Holy Spirit, promised to those who gather in Christ’s name, leads them into a common understanding. The Anabaptists were so convinced that the Holy Spirit guides the members of the brotherhood that they rejected a hierarchy of theologians and princes in the church. Neither was this a simple reliance on democratic decision-making by majority; the Spirit overcame human weakness and brought it about that, when they were gathered, God’s will became known to them.

This very vision of how the Holy Spirit acted is also applicable to the discussions that took place in the congregations of the brotherhood. We recall from chapter 3 how the unifying work of the Holy Spirit was manifest during the Schleitheim Conference in 1527, in the same year in Augsburg, and during the conferences in Strasbourg in the 1550s. The same method was later used in meetings aimed at achieving reconciliation and unity in the Dutch brotherhood. Whether the Dutch Mennonites were seeking agreement with the Reformed, or Pilgram Marpeck with the Moravian Brethren, the same method was used and a pursuit of the same goal was observed. Unity in the knowledge of God’s will cannot be achieved by relying on political or intellectual authority, nor can religiously gifted leaders impose even correct doctrine; it is accomplished through the work of the Holy Spirit, which He carries out among the brethren when they gather and study the Holy Scriptures.

FOLLOWING CHRIST IN LIFE

Article 6 of the Schleitheim Agreement states: «As Christ, our supreme Head, thinks, so we as members of His Body should think, so that we do not destroy Him by dissension.» Thus, following Christ was not a childish imitation but the obedience necessary for His Body, the church, to remain united in this world. This was the main argument of the Schleitheim Agreement on the question of the sword and the oath. This position was borrowed from Zwingli, who said: «Being a Christian is not talking about Christ, but means walking in His way». Better known is Hans Denck’s motto: «No one can truly know Christ — except those who follow Him in life». To understand why «following Christ» was the only possible position, we must recall what the other churches asserted. The question of the sword serves as a good example. If Christ refused to bear the sword and taught His disciples to do likewise, then both Catholics and Protestants agreed that this was not a norm for the sixteenth century. Some referred to Old Testament warriors or, for instance, to such revered Christian emperors as Theodosius and Justinian; others thought that prudence and observations of natural instincts in Christian society proved that someone must guarantee peace and order and use force to secure it. Still others believed that the existing social order was instituted by God in such a way that if you were born a peasant, it pleased God for you to remain one, and if you were born a prince, it pleased God for you to be a good prince, and so on. One’s «calling» or «station» in this life has its own norms, and since they are established by God, they cannot be changed.

Thus, the Anabaptists insisted on strict adherence to the words and example of Jesus, and to understand and accept this was not easy. Most could think of Christ as the suffering Savior or the coming Judge, but not as the One to be sincerely followed in life. Such an attempt seemed impossible because Christ was the Son of God, while people also recalled the Roman Catholic concept of righteous works by which salvation could be earned. The call to «Follow Christ in life» may seem self-evident today, but for the Anabaptists of the sixteenth century it was an unusual and courageous step, and one fraught with dangers, for the way of Christ led to Golgotha.

Love

In the letter sent by Conrad Grebel and his friends to Thomas Müntzer, mentioned in chapter 2, they wrote: «The Gospel and its adherents should not be defended by the sword, just as they should not defend themselves with it… True believers are sheep among wolves… they must find eternal rest without killing bodily. Neither do they resort to the sword of the word, for with them all killing ceases.»

Following Christ meant above all carrying the cross with Him, loving one’s brothers with a whole heart, even at the cost of one’s own life. This position is sometimes called pacifism, but the term is imprecise because it puts political goals of achieving peace first, rather than love for people and the refusal to intentionally harm them. Today Mennonites in North America speak of nonresistance, but this term is also imprecise because it sounds somewhat passive and uninvolved, and does not mean active opposition to evil. The traditional term of German Mennonites «Wehrlosigkeit» /defenselessness/ sounds somewhat better. The first Anabaptists had no special term for this concept; they spoke of yielding oneself into the hands of persecutors /Gelassenheit/ or of the cross, of «the patience and faith of the saints» (Rev. 13:10). Today it is more appropriate to speak of the way of the cross, of Agape /self-denying love/ or of service in suffering. Jesus called it perfect (i.e., all-embracing) love. Conscientious objection to military service and the payment of war taxes, refusal to engage in lawsuits (1 Cor. 6) were in the past its most striking manifestations. The rejection of national, racial, and class selfishness and active work for interethnic and interracial reconciliation are certainly a contemporary development of disciple’s love.

Only Believers

The positions of the Anabaptists and the Reformer Zwingli diverged on a number of issues, not only on the question of baptism, but it was precisely the attitude toward baptism that became the stumbling block. It was precisely the Anabaptists’ attitude toward baptism that caused their persecution by the government and gave the young religious movement its name. In the already mentioned letter of Conrad Grebel and his friends to Thomas Müntzer, it was said: “We believe that even an adult should not be baptized if he does not follow the teaching of Christ, who said: ‘Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven.’ Scripture gives us this definition: ‘baptism means that by faith and the blood of Christ sins are washed away from the one who receives baptism, it changes his consciousness, and he believes before and after baptism; it means that a person is dead and must be dead to sin, and that he enters into newness of life and spirit.’”

Attention is drawn not to the emotions arising at the moment of transformation, nor to discussions of what a child may or may not feel. Baptism has a clear, positive meaning. It points to redemption and inward change, to the resolve to begin a new life, and to the obligation before the brotherhood to think of the heavenly life while in earthly life. That children cannot take on such an obligation, based on the teaching and example of Jesus and the apostles, needs no proof; and not all adults can accept it either.

It follows from this that a church devoted to God cannot hope to become a large and powerful community. In no way can the true church, unlike churches supported by the state that practice compulsory infant baptism, resemble the population of the country in the number of its members. Furthermore, it follows that the church must have its own norms regarding its organization, leadership, and its members; it must be free in two respects: membership must be voluntary, and its organization independent. This is exactly what both the Reformers and the Catholics feared; they felt that the state would become pagan, and the church would face the threat of disintegration if its union with the state were broken.

Thus, the act of baptism has meaning and significance not only for the believer but also for the church: a person’s faith must be the result of his choice; as for the church, membership in it is a matter of freedom and voluntariness, and she must be faithful and devoted to Christ alone.

Admonition

Article 6 of the Schleitheim Agreement states: “According to the law, the sword is drawn over criminals … and the secular authorities are commanded to use it … but in the inerrancy of Christ, only the ban of the church is used for the correction and exclusion of the sinner from the church.” What the sword is for a community founded on coercion, discipline in brotherly admonition is for maintaining the voluntary fellowship of the church. The early Anabaptists referred to the practice of assuming moral responsibility toward one another as the “Law of Christ,” meaning by this Matthew 18:15–18. “If your brother sins, leave him … If he listens to you, you have gained him … If he refuses to listen to you, take with you one or two others … If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the brotherhood …”

Usually this approach to a brother resulted in repentance and reconciliation; only in extreme cases did they resort to the church ban /excommunication from the brotherhood/. The Anabaptists believed that the individual method of admonition and edification is the chief instrument for reforming the churches: “Strengthen discipline by the word and establish the Christian church with the help of Christ and His rules, as we see this in Matthew 18 and the apostolic epistles.” /From Grebel’s letter to Thomas Müntzer/. We already know that the reason for refusing infant baptism was that children cannot voluntarily submit to the “Law of Christ.” And since the practice of voluntary submission presupposes a certain methodology by which all other principles are implemented, it is the key factor for reforming the church and maintaining its faithfulness to Christ.

Membership in the brotherhood becomes meaningful for a person because his brothers share with him the responsibility for his discipleship. Only in this way does membership in the brotherhood have significance. For the Reformers who advocated a state church, it was an organization that, guided by princes and learned theologians, provided correct preaching. It needed no membership, since it governed all people, whether they agreed with it or not. For the Anabaptists, the church was a visible brotherhood, separated from the state and other authorities in society, because membership in it was voluntary, and because the gathering of a brotherhood so different from the state church—visible, loving, and sharing all hardships with its members—is God’s saving design in this world.

With the passage of time, the redemptive character of the “Law of Christ” was lost. The church ban was applied quite crudely by the minister at his own discretion, without requiring the consent of the brotherhood. The minister often followed rules rather than the desire to achieve reconciliation with the offender. As a result, a desire for punishment, rather than admonition, prevailed. When this happened, especially in the Netherlands, the importance of discipline and the unity of the brotherhood was lost. It is for this reason that in 1557 the Swiss and German Anabaptists rejected the strictness of religious practice of the Dutch brotherhoods.

Leave No One Alone

From the very beginning, the Anabaptists spoke of the community of material goods as a necessary condition of Christian life. Initially, they did not mean by this a common treasury for the entire brotherhood and its needs; nor did they imply what everyone feared <197> a revolution to abolish private property as an example for the whole society. Nevertheless, they did not consider that they could call property their own. They are responsible for managing it, not only before God, but concretely before their brothers and before every needy person. Where there is need, there they give, not hoping that the gift will be returned. Thus, the common treasury was established in 1528 during the expulsion from Nikolsburg, as related in chapter 4, and this was not a radical innovation, but merely another step in the established direction.

Only the Beginning

The spiritual and moral principles of the Anabaptists are presented in this chapter exactly as they were perceived in the mid-1520s. It was by no means assumed that they would become a program for creating a new denomination. On many issues, such as the divine nature of Christ, the authority of Holy Scripture, redemption by Christ’s death, and other matters, the Anabaptists agreed with other Protestants. They desired only the completion of the Reformation process in the purification of the church; they wanted to complete the process that others had begun but had failed to finish. In the mid-1520s they still hoped to convince people that they were not aiming to form a new denomination. When under the pressure of circumstances they had to begin forming an independent religious movement, this was followed by what naturally accompanies its growth. The scattering of the brothers, the formation of small groups of believers, which was unavoidable and necessary, differences in geographical and hence cultural environment—all these factors contributed to enriching the movement with new ideas and broadening the horizons of its members, as we have seen in previous chapters.

Any enumeration of how the initial vision gained substance and withstood trials throughout Europe would include the mysticism of Hans Denck, who attached tremendous importance to the living Word. It would include opinions on such issues as free will and original sin, with which he developed the theology of his time. Such an enumeration would in itself include the missionary fervor of Hans Hut with his teaching on the importance of suffering; it would include the concern of Pilgram Marpeck, Menno Simons, and many others for the integrity of the brotherhood and the fullness of its witness.

As for other questions, time itself helped to reveal the boundaries of the Anabaptist movement and to see what it united and what it did not. The rigid practice of applying the ban in the Netherlands, as well as the excessively strict legalism among some Swiss brethren, complicated the situation for a time, but nevertheless it was an expression of the love they had for the church. The peaceful and revolutionary Anabaptists clearly and definitively separated after the collapse of Melchior Hoffman’s independent movement and the tragedy of Münster, though their opponents seemed incapable of grasping these distinctions. Similarly, David Joris’s appeal helped the main body of believers reject the temptation of a “new revelation” and prefer a careful interpretation of the Bible, while Adam Pastor’s departure into Unitarianism became a warning of the danger of rationalism. Pilgram Marpeck’s successful definition of the issues dividing Anabaptism and spiritualism, and his warning about the consequences of the teaching that the true church must remain invisible, strengthened the Anabaptist concept of purpose and mission in this world. Other theological points underwent some changes that did not affect the essence of the movement. This applies to Hoffman’s view of the incarnation, to the attempt to introduce community of goods in Moravia, and later to the confessions of faith among the brotherhoods in the Netherlands, which incorporated principles of faith held in common with other Protestants.

However, what is especially remarkable is that in the process of expansion and deepening of the Anabaptist movement, the essence of the initial vision of the church was preserved and became clearer. It passed the test of adaptation and persecution without undergoing essential changes. In its main features, the understanding of the church’s path, formed in the mid-1520s, has survived the centuries and come down to our days.