Canadian Mennonite
Volume 13, No. 19
Oct. 5, 2009

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How We Got Here From There: Part I

Evangelism and ethics in historical tension

In this, the first of two feature interviews about faith and life within Mennonite Church Canada today, Canadian Mennonite managing editor Ross W. Muir asks Karl Koop, the director of graduate studies and associate professor of history and theology at Canadian Mennonite University, and a member of First Mennonite Church, Winnipeg, about how the church’s past has influenced its present. In particular, he is clear that early Anabaptism was defined more by its members’ faith in Jesus and their worship practices (especially baptism), rather than its peace stance, which in some ways has now become its dominant identifying feature. In Part II, next issue, Mennonite Church Canada general secretary Robert J. Suderman reflects on the denomination’s five-year relationship with the Canadian Council of Churches and the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada.

Karl Koop

CM: In Confessions of Faith in the Anabaptist Tradition: 1527-1660 (Pandora Press, 2006), which you edited and helped translate, we read a lot about Anabaptist beliefs in God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit, and the importance of the Bible. What was it about those beliefs—and the way they were lived out—that put Anabaptists at odds with the state churches and governments of their day?

Koop: Anabaptists got into trouble with governments and state churches in large part because of the way in which they lived out their beliefs.

Anabaptists concluded, for instance, that since devotion to God was more important than loyalty to the state, they could not bring themselves to swear oaths of allegiance. The civil authorities interpreted oath refusal as a sign of disloyalty, and in a period of civil unrest and political instability they feared that Anabaptists might try to overthrow the present civil order. Anabaptists, however, could not bring themselves to swear oaths because they believed that such action would compromise their firmly held convictions concerning the sovereignty of God and the lordship of Christ.

This same kind of thinking held true for Anabaptists when it came to the question of how a Christian should act towards enemies. Since Jesus taught his followers to love their enemies, and since Jesus himself refused to use violence in his mission to overcome evil, Anabaptists concluded that true Christians were called to reject violence and return evil with good.

In a time of political instability and unrest, the civil authorities viewed this kind of theological reasoning as politically dangerous. There were, after all, military threats to be reckoned with, such as the Turks in the east, who were threatening to overrun Western Europe. In this volatile context the authorities wanted its citizens to support military action. By extolling the virtues of nonresistance, Anabaptists were positioning themselves in opposition to the policies of the state and the views of the state churches.

CM: Compared to statements about the character of God and the nature of salvation, for example, the topic of peace seems to be given little space in many of these confessions, and is completely absent from some. It’s hard to believe, given that the Mennonite church today is known primarily for its peace position, that it wasn’t more prominent in the statements of our early Anabaptist forebears. Where exactly did peace fit into their theology and practice?

Koop: Some early confessional statements left out articles dealing specifically with the topic of peace. Most of these confessions were written by individuals who might have been concerned about offending local authorities. Some may have been preoccupied with a specific theological issue, like baptism or the Lord’s Supper, and so they did not get around to addressing other theological issues.

It is important also to recognize that not all first-generation Anabaptists were pacifists, and it took some time for pacifism to become a standard conviction. Among the Swiss and south German Anabaptists there were pacifists such as Michael Sattler and Conrad Grebel, but there were also just war theorists like Balthasar Hubmaier. In the North German Dutch context, especially among the Muensterites, we encounter an Anabaptism that was advocating holy war. So at the beginning of the Anabaptist movement, the peace position was not universally accepted.

Eventually it did become the domi-nant view, and later confessions, especially those representing churches and conferences, began to reflect an emerging consensus.

In the 14 confessional statements that appear in my book, most reflect a fairly strong peace stance. It is not that debates about the church’s relationship to the state were discontinued, or that Mennonite views on peace became completely uniform. Nor is it evident that Mennonite individuals or groups in subsequent times always lived according to what they expressed confessionally.

Nevertheless, we can observe an emerg-
ing consensus in virtually all major confessional statements. Every confession of faith and catechism that I am aware of, from the end of the 16th century onward, includes a section that rejects warfare and embraces a commitment to nonresistance or peacemaking.

It is worth mentioning that some of the statements that Mennonites wrote in later periods reflect theological arguments that go far beyond simply repeating Scripture passages such as the Sermon on the Mount. For example, in their Short Confession of 1610 (a statement of faith that is actually not that brief at all), the Waterlander Mennonites link their peace position to the atonement—the work of Christ on the cross. Because of what Christ has accomplished on the cross, the Waterlanders argue theologically, believers are a new creation. They have now “changed their carnal weapons, their swords, into ploughshares, and their spears into sickles. They neither lift a sword, nor teach, nor participate in carnal warfare.”

CM: Our current Confession of Faith in a Mennonite Perspective also seems to be quite God-centred; with peace, justice and nonresistance summed up in just one of the 24 articles, the 22nd. In Article 10 (The Church in Mission), though, we are called by God “to seek the lost, call for repentance, announce salvation from sin, proclaim the gospel of peace, set free the oppressed, pray for righteousness and justice, serve as Jesus did, and without coercion urge all people to become part of the people of God.” Why do the evangelical aspects of Article 10 seem to be missing in many congregations today, with the emphasis placed more squarely on peace, justice and nonresistance?

Koop: I wonder if there are just as many congregations today that emphasize what you call the evangelical aspects of the gospel while ignoring peace, justice and nonresistance. Be that as it may, I do agree that there are Mennonites—and maybe churches too—that have reduced their understanding of faith to certain ethical values. Or they have come to associate the word “Anabaptism” with a set of moral values and principles.

CM: What is the setting in which this form of reductionistic Christianity happened?

Koop: Your question is difficult to respond to in a few brief lines. Perhaps I can offer just two points. First of all, I think the influence of modernity has something to do with it. Since the Enlightenment, people in the West have remained fairly comfortable in talking about ethical issues, but they have become increasingly uncomfortable talking about God. God-talk is a private or personal affair.

We should be aware that we, too, are affected by this modernist impulse to downplay the reality of God. It is much easier, or more comfortable, to talk about ethics—especially if it doesn’t cost anything. Of course, in a time of national crisis, the whole situation can change.

After the towers in New York were knocked down, I remember distinctly, while living in the United States, that it was actually quite easy to talk publicly about God, but much harder to speak openly about nonresistance and loving the enemy. Granted, the context was the U.S., but I suspect that the sentiments in Canada during the crisis were somewhat similar.

Perhaps another reason why some Mennonites have tended to focus so much on ethics has to do with the fact that it has provided them with an opportunity to define themselves over against other forms of Christianity. In emphasizing peace, justice and nonresistance, they have discovered, for instance, what distinguishes them from mainstream Evangelicalism—especially the kind that likes to trumpet nationalism and militarism. Belief in certain ethical values, then, has become a simple way of identifying who is a true Mennonite.

Historically, of course, Anabaptism has been a rich variegated tradition with a profound spirituality—something perhaps we have forgotten. Anabaptists held to a faith that was all-encompassing, that could not, for example, separate the doctrine of salvation from ethics, or faith from works.

Hans Denck, a South German Anabaptist, reflects this depth and insight when he says, “But the medium is Christ whom no one can truly know unless he follow him in life, and no one may follow him unless he has first known him” (quoted by W. Klaassen, Anabaptism in Outline, Herald Press).

CM: What risks does a church run that makes peace—or environmental stewardship (a hot topic today), or anything other than salvation through Jesus Christ—its primary tenet of faith?

Koop: If our faith is simply reduced to ethics, there is always the danger that it becomes indistinguishable from any other cause that promotes a similar course of action. When that happens, Christianity has really lost its reason for being and it becomes difficult to distinguish between some secular cause and what the church does programmatically.

Increasingly, I think, people find themselves in this space. Perhaps the ethical has become the summation of their religious expression. They have grown up in the church and have become good moral people. They have embraced the values of their parents, their church or an organization like Mennonite Central Committee, but they find it difficult to believe in a divine reality.

They are no longer certain that such a belief in the beyond is plausible or tenable. This kind of reasoning, it seems to me, is quite vulnerable to compromise, especially in times of crisis or change. Why should we not abandon that which no longer suits us?

Christians, of course, are also guilty of compromise and they often fail miserably. But for Christians, foundations do matter, and a theological grounding makes a difference, in that values have meaning that transcend their own reasoning and existence.

CM: How can the church reclaim such historic tenets and practices of the Anabaptist faith as salvation through Jesus Christ, believer’s baptism and communion of the saints, while maintaining our current distinctives? Is it an either/or situation, or both/and?

Koop: Unfortunately, I have no brilliant strategy to offer in terms of how we can reclaim our historic tenets. Perhaps they are not for us to reclaim or possess because they are ultimately a gift that we can only receive with thanksgiving. And this can only happen when we enter into meaningful worship. As Martin Luther understood so well, probably better than most Anabaptists, our ethics and everything that we are must flow from our worship.

We have become far too relaxed and casual about the significance of worship in the life of the church. In many cases our places of worship are no longer sacred spaces, and the time that we spend in them are no longer sacred moments. Of course we need to think about worship renewal that speaks relevantly to our time and context, but we should not compro-
mise worship for the sake of being relevant. The experience of worship is an encounter with the transcendent in a special way, and I’m not sure that we are always sufficiently aware of this.

I also believe that it is important that we look beyond ourselves and become aware of the way in which the Spirit of God has been, and continues to be, a work in the church that exists around the world and across time—the church catholic. Theological conversation with other Christians is as important as conversation within our own tradition. Such conversation can help clarify our own convictions and give us a renewed sense of direction and commitment. Not only do we have something to offer to other Christians in other denominations, they also have something to teach us.

CM: Our forebears were known for putting their lives on the line for their faith by challenging the powers of their day (both church and state), which often led to their death. Would Menno Simons understand our current passion for dialogue with those who disagree with us?

Koop: I don’t think that we should be too worried about what Menno Simons actually thought. He lived in a time very different from our own, and he had opinions that we should not always necessarily emulate. He was fallible like you and me.

Indeed, Menno Simons had a reputation for being very sure and unmoving about his convictions, but in this respect he was no different than others of his day. In the 16th century very few people would have had experience with cultural and religious diversity, and the general wisdom of that time was that society, or the church, would collapse unless everyone held to the faith in perfectly uniform fashion. Even within the Christian context it was difficult to imagine that there might be several equally valid expressions of the one faith.

This reality, however, did not stop Menno Simons and other Anabaptists from conversing with others. Menno often entered into conversation with other religious leaders and even challenged state authorities to live out their Christianity with greater integrity. Religious toleration came to Europe only in the 17th and 18th centuries, and from there it was transplanted to the New World. So Anabaptists were actually at the forefront of religious toleration in their appeals to church and state authorities to grant greater religious liberties.

CM: What would Menno say to the church today that wants to find common ground with as many diverse groups as possible, instead of standing on our historic differences?

Koop: Menno, as a matter of fact, did seek common ground with others, in the sense that he defended Anabaptist convictions and tried to help the state churches and the government authorities understand where Anabaptist convictions were coming from. He pleaded for understanding and was concerned that he and his fellow believers would be treated fairly if, for example, they were brought before the courts to stand trial for their convictions. He wanted to be at peace with all of humanity.

This concern for fairness, however, did not stop him from speaking truthfully about his convictions and from highlighting differences between the Anabaptist faith and the faith of others. Articulating differences was very much a part of his approach. He refused to sell-out on his convictions and stood firm on the issues that mattered to him most.

There is something valuable that we can learn from this. When we focus on what we have in common with one another, our relationship and learning can only take us so far. When we discover our differences, however, we usually come to a better understanding of our own convictions. This may lead to a greater confidence in what we believe. It may also lead us to the point where we may change our minds. So highlighting differences can be a risky business, but it is essential for Christian growth, and it is indispensable if genuine ecumenical dialogue is going to take place.

CM: Is it necessary to find common ground with these groups in order to speak to them? Or do you think that, like Paul—who, in his address to the Athenians, split his hearers in three, with some laughing him out of the Areopagus, others becoming followers of Jesus, and still others wanting to hear more—we should be boldly telling our neighbours about Jesus and his way of peace, and let the chips fall where they may?

Koop: Your reference to Paul’s conversation with the Athenians as recorded in Acts 17 is useful for how we might think about conversing with persons from other faith traditions. Among the Athenians, Paul seeks both common ground and he also speaks boldly about his Christian convictions. The outcome, as you point out, was not a resounding success, although some did become followers of Jesus. But then we are not called to be successful in our Christian life; we are only called to be faithful. The work of God’s mission is ultimately not ours to possess.

CM: Any other thoughts?

Koop: Our discussion concerning the confessions has led us to talk mostly about ethics and theological tenets, but I would like to return to the topic of worship.

It is noteworthy that early Christians first turned to reciting the Apostles’ and Nicene creeds in the context of worship. The creeds had their place in defining right belief, but their original home was in the liturgical life of the church and their purpose was to provide a language for worshipping God.

The church’s confessional statements were integrated into the church’s liturgy as a way of helping Christians respond to the faith that had been given to them. The recitation of the creed was not first and foremost about testing orthodox belief. It was about the church, the corporate body, worshipping the one God, creator of heaven and earth, who was understood to be present most profoundly in Jesus Christ and seen to be continually present in the church and the world through the Spirit.

Worship, then, was the starting point and proper context for the church’s theological reflection and ethical practices. Perhaps we can learn something here from the early church, and find ways of integrating our confession of faith into the liturgical life of the church.