Book Reviews

Karl Koop, editor, Confessions of Faith in the Anabaptist Tradition, 1527-1660.   (Kitchener: Pandora
  Press, 2006.)   Reviewed by Robert Martens

Even though confessions of faith may have been more prevalent in the Anabaptist/ Mennonite tradition than in any other Protestant stream, they have largely been overlooked by historians and scholars. Karl Koop's recent compilation of fourteen early confessions will help rectify this oversight. Why then, until recently, have these documents been so commonly ignored? The introduction to Confessions of Faith in the Anabaptist Tradition suggests some possible answers. An anti-creedal bias has predominated among some scholars; there has been a suspicion that confessions were politically rather than theologically motivated; that their ill-educated authors wrote badly; and some scholarship has proceeded on the assumption that Anabaptist theology emphasized practical community ethics rather than the confessional inner or spiritual life.

 It may have been, however, Harold Bender's powerful essay, "The Anabaptist Vision," published in 1944, that most hampered the study of confessions of faith in the Mennonite tradition. Bender reenergized Mennonite studies by arguing that Anabaptism was not a mere heretical movement, but a recreation of the ideals of the early apostolic church, and that it stressed the concept of a church community based on the ideals of love and nonresistance. In a practical theology such as this, a statement of beliefs would be secondary. Bender's ideas were an appealing option to historians who were not attracted to the fundamentalism that was making its mark on the Mennonite church. To this day, "Anabaptism" seems a code word among Mennonites for a theology that accentuates social justice issues.

 The Anabaptist/Mennonite story has been a deeply divisive one. Its congregational structure, in which local churches enjoy a great deal of autonomy, and in which decisions are largely made from the ground up, may be partly responsible for this. And perhaps the "Mennonite disease" of conflict, shunning, and splitting has motivated the writing of numerous confessions of faith: these documents were a political necessity, a clarification of either unity or separation. In the nearly constant atmosphere of mistrust, however, even confessions became the focus of quarrels.

 Was there a coherency among early confessions of faith? The introduction to this book argues that certain beliefs seemed to remain generally a constant: free will, daily discipleship, the church as the body of Christ, baptism as a symbol of regeneration, the Supper as an emblem of community, and church discipline. Perhaps a bias against hierarchy might be added to this list. The theology of these Anabaptist confessions is reasonably orthodox in tone, but that inspires the question why Anabaptists/Mennonites were so continually suppressed by political and religious powers. Reading between the confessional lines uncovers an abiding wariness of the powers of the "outside world."

 Even so, emphases in confessions altered greatly over time. The Schleitheim Articles of 1527 are aflame with the fervour of a young movement: "... the calling of the one God to one faith, to one baptism, to one spirit, to one body ..." (28). "Now there is nothing else in the world and all creation than good or evil, believing and unbelieving, darkness and light ..." (28). "The sword is an ordering of God outside the perfection of Christ" (30). "... [I]t does not befit a Christian to be a magistrate: the rule of the government is according to the flesh, that of the Christians according to the spirit" (31). In the Swiss Brethren Confession of 1578, the ardour has somewhat cooled, and the admonition is given to serve government faithfully. The language is still occasionally heated, however: "We ... confess that all the arrogance, pride and pomp of this world are an abomination and hated by God" (90). At the same time, usury is condemned and a life of farming extolled. "[C]hildren of God should seek and win their daily nourishment with honest manual labour, that they should seek to share with those in need. But they shall not engage in lazy, dishonest and useless merchant enterprises" (87).

 The above confessions originated among southern Germanic people. In the Netherlands, meanwhile, Anabaptist division was rampant and confessions were being written in great numbers. The Kempen Confession of 1545, while stating that "we are to do good to our enemies" (97), nevertheless engages in scurrilous language directed at perceived false teachers. The 1554 Wismar Confession, to which Menno Simons contributed, is sometimes appallingly intolerant of opposing points of view. The more "liberal" Waterlanders, who were perhaps encountering the pleasures of prosperity and assimilation, produced confessions with a peaceful and spiritually inward perspective. The lengthy Thirty-Three Articles of 1617, on the other hand, were conceived by the more "conservative" Old Frisians. This document is often smug and bitter, directed at an enemy which is now other Mennonites with "evil opinions" (170). The language is frequently a mindless recitation of old ideas, the dogmatism, tedious. But the early Anabaptist ideals still survive: "... among the people of God no beggars will be found" (225).

 Koop's book ends with two major Mennonite confessions of faith. The Dordrecht Confession (1632) was written as an attempt to unify opposing factions: "Both sides lacked a recognition of love as the principal garb and characteristic of the true followers of Christ" (291). The peace position is strong. In 1660 the Swiss Brethren adopted the Dordrecht Confession and brought it with them to the new world.

 The Prussian Confession, drafted in 1660, was written, strangely, in German: strange because Mennonites had not yet adopted that tongue. Perhaps it was meant for government consumption. This document was reprinted at least five times in Prussia, three times in Russia (the last time in 1912), and at least twice in the United States. The language used is relatively gentle and intended to unite. "We believe that this church is made up of a large number of people around the earth who have separated themselves from the sinful world ..." (316). The Confession calls on Mennonites to be "subordinate to the authority of government" (324), but does not urge noninvolvement in politics. It articulates that "one cannot practice revenge against one's enemy" (326), but does not speak to nonparticipation in the military. As to banning any church member who has wandered from official doctrine, the Confession recommends, "do not regard him as an enemy but admonish him as a brother" (327).

The Prussian Confession seems to aim at moderation as its goal. Its ideals of unity may, however, have been often lost on succeeding Mennonite generations, who continued their seemingly endless narrative of condemnation, division, and occasional reconciliation. Karl Koop's book sheds some welcome light on that troubled history.  *

Helmut Isaak.  Menno Simons and the New Jerusalem (Kitchener: Pandora Press, 2006.)
reviewed by Robert Martens

At the turn of the sixteenth century, Holland was a hotbed of economic, social, and religious unrest. Already nearly half the population was urbanized, and industry and trade constituted a major component of daily life. War and fierce economic competition were responsible for a rapid increase in poverty, especially among urban dwellers. But it was religious issues that galvanized and dominated debate. The invention of the printing press meant that new ideas, including subversive ones, could be quickly communicated. Anticlericalism had long been a common theme in Holland, and now was spurred on by outrage with unfair competition in textile and food production by monasteries. Trials for heresy became commonplace. The Sacramentarians rejected the hierarchy of the Catholic Church and emphasized the practice of a simple Christian life, sometimes called "evangelical-mindedness." This movement, which became increasingly sectarian, and in which women played a strong role, eventually merged with Anabaptism.

 It was a time of great injustice, corruption, and violence, and some Anabaptists did not hesitate to wield the sword. The Peasants’ Revolt of 1524-25 in Germany, in which peasants who submitted moderate demands to the nobility were brutally suppressed by both Catholics and Lutherans, had attracted a number of Anabaptist-minded individuals. The events in Münster, however, began relatively peacefully. The guilds were strong in the city, and fingers were being pointed at monastic competition in the textile industry. The events of the Peasants' Revolt also were agitating the citizens of Münster. When Bernhard Rothmann, a reformer and erstwhile priest, arrived in the city, he was protected by the guilds, and the populace divided into opposing camps: the more conservative Lutherans, and the reformist Sacramentarians/Anabaptists. In 1534 the Anabaptist wing seized city hall and expelled from the city all those who refused to be baptized. Anabaptist pacifist ideas rapidly lost popularity. Münster became known to the desperate and impoverished as the "New Jerusalem," and many of the religiously oppressed now flocked to the city, hoping to be present at the end of the world when Christ would return.

 Bishop Franz of Waldeck ordered a siege of the city. Inside Münster a heightened sense of apocalypse prevailed. Jan Matthijsz, one of the early leaders, prophesied that Christ would return on Easter 1534 and implement a new and just society. When this did not happen he "committed military suicide" (37) by leading an attack on the besieging forces. Jan van Leiden now seized power, and under conditions of extreme hunger and stress, proclaimed himself King David of the new kingdom. He violently crushed all opposition, and introduced, among other measures, community of goods and polygamy. In 1535 the bishop's army managed to enter Münster. The Anabaptist leaders, including Jan van Leiden, were captured, viciously tortured and executed. Their corpses were hung in cages from the church tower; the cages remain there to this day.

 Into this European world reeling with religious and economic conflict stepped Menno Simons, who took over the reins of leadership of Dutch Anabaptists. As Helmut Isaak points out in his book, Menno Simons and the New Jerusalem, Menno was deeply marked by the prevailing atmosphere of dissent, especially by the debacle at Münster. Indeed, Menno's own brother may have died in a siege of the monastery at Oldeklooster. In the 1530s, Menno was sympathetic to many of the Münsterite ideals, writing that "our dear brothers" had "misbehaved a little against the Lord since they wanted to defend their faith with arms" (51). By the 1550s, however, partly in the interests of the survival of his "Mennonite" community, he denounced violent action, and rigorously imposed the ban on any who disagreed. "Weeding the tares from within and relentless persecution from without had reduced the people of the New Jerusalem to a suffering minority from which any trace of rebellion had disappeared" (56).

 Former studies of the thought of Menno Simons have generally been based on his collected writings, which give the impression that Menno's theology remained consistent throughout his lifetime. Helmut Isaak, however,  traces Menno's thinking through the 1530s to the 1550s, and discovers great changes in emphasis-- political, social and religious--over the passage of time. Menno Simons and the New Jerusalem is the portrait of a man whose theology was not that of the study, not philosophical, but rather a reaction to the events that were shaking the continent.

 As Helmut Isaak clearly describes, Anabaptists were far more concerned with the daily practice of Christian love than were Catholics of the time. Melchior Hoffman, whose ideas were influential in Münster, "shared the Catholic doctrine of the sinfulness and complete lostness of mankind," but in contrast did not focus attention "on the death of the sacrificial lamb, but rather on the incarnation of the Word of God" (58). The "Word become flesh," according to Hoffman, "fell from the mouth of God into the wild mussel of the Virgin Mary" (58); in the same way, the individual believer must make a covenant directly with God, rather than indirectly through the sacraments. He or she will then, after the symbolic act of baptism, enter the free community of love. It is interesting to note that the coins minted in 1534 Münster bore the inscription: "Unless a man is born again, he can not enter the Kingdom of God; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; the Word has become flesh and lives among us" (68).

 Menno Simons, born around 1496, ordained a Catholic priest in 1524, and still a priest in the mid-1530s, essentially affirmed the Melchiorite doctrine of incarnation. His emphasis, however, was altogether different. "Whereas for Menno the incarnation of the Word of God meant forgiveness, brotherly love, suffering service and a new life, for the Münsterites it became the justification for an apocalyptic crusade" (66). Menno's specific ideology on the incarnation was somewhat subtle and confusing – he was a much better organizer than writer – but his intent was clear. He was not interested in a future apocalyptic incarnation: the New Jerusalem, he wrote, is already here, in the hearts of believers.

 When Menno wrote the Spiritual Resurrection in the 1530s, he may well still have been a Catholic priest, and was careful not to identify with any reformist group. Spiritual conversion, as outlined in this tract, was limited to the individual, and was described in nearly mystical terms. Despite the confidence of his writing, however, Menno was undergoing an experience of severe religious agony. His entrenched desire for security and career as a priest did battle with a felt spiritual need to leave the Catholic church and make a clean break. By the time he wrote the Meditation on the Twenty-fifth Psalm, Menno had abandoned the priesthood. Menno writes in this book of his new-found Christian life, and exuberantly describes the New Jerusalem not only as an individualistic redemption, but as a living community of God. "Those who know the Lord will live upon Mount Zion.... They worry about nothing because the Lord will provide for their needs.... Their souls dwell in the fullness of the wealth of the Lord" (73). Menno, in his opinion, had left Babylon and entered the New Jerusalem.

 To his sorrow, however, persecution by the authorities continued. Menno's followers continued to be slandered with the epithet "Münsterite," and Menno was forced over the decades to disassociate  his movement from the uprising of Münster. His views became increasingly linked with the idea of a suffering church, as he saw no end in sight to civil and religious oppression. The 1540s, according to Helmut Isaak, were transitional years in the development of Menno's communal values. By the 1550s, his ideas had become entrenched, and he preached the buttressing of God's suffering community by the liberal use of the ban. In his Instruction on Excommunication, Menno had turned, according to Isaak, quite authoritarian: "Those who seek unity and peace will receive his instruction with joy ... simply because his teaching, based on God's holy Scripture, is the truth and there is no other truth" (103). Perhaps, as Isaak remarks, the "continued confrontation with the preachers ... blocked his creative capabilities in the later 1550s" (104).

 Menno's preoccupation with Münster is quite understandable. Even to this day, four hundred years later, one can find internet sites that mock the uprising there. Helmut Isaak's brief book, though written in a style that may seem repetitious (each chapter builds on the preceding), admirably and sympathetically traces the arc of Menno's life and thought. It should become an indispensable source for understanding the troubled life of this superb organizer. In the end, Menno gave up his hopes of transforming the entire world into a Christian collective, and decided upon the goal of a separate, suffering, and peaceful community living in Christ. The Mennonite church has been clearly marked with those ideals. And if Menno passed on the dubious practices of shunning and the ban, his vision of a loving Christian life is something to be treasured: "They show mercy and love, as much as they can. No one among them is allowed to beg. They take to heart the need of the saints. They entertain those in distress. They take the stranger into their houses. They comfort the afflicted; lend to the needy; clothe the naked; feed the hungry; do not turn their faces from the poor; do not despise their own flesh" (99).   *