Confessions
of a Mennonite Menace
Ron
Sala
When
you’re a minister, people have a tendency to talk with you about religion.
That, of course, goes without saying. Ministers spend their professional
lives preaching and teaching about religious subjects. But unlike most
other occupations, ministers have no punch-clock to tell them their
day is over. One is still a minister at cocktail parties, sporting events,
and in the barber’s chair.
When
people find out I’m a Unitarian Universalist minister, they often
ask if I started out that way. I tell them, no, I was raised Mennonite.
If the UU thing didn’t shock them, the Mennonite thing usually does.
“How did you go from there to where you are now?” they demand in stunned
tones, as pictures fill their minds of me as a boy in a straw hat riding
in a horse and buggy through Lancaster County.
My
sermon this morning is a reflection on my Mennonite roots and on how
one religious immigrant in a denomination of immigrants got from there
to here.
First,
let me set the record straight: I never wore plain clothes, nor have
I ever ridden in a horse-drawn buggy—though it looks like fun. Mennonites
come in all sorts and conditions, from the extreme simplicity of the
Old Order (nearly indistinguishable from their close relatives the Amish)
to the resident of Manhattan you would never know was a Mennonite unless
you asked.
And
a second point: Mennonites and Unitarian Universalists are
not really as different as you might guess. In fact, Unitarians
and Mennonites are veritable kissing cousins. Journey back with me a
moment to the Europe of the sixteenth century. We’ve all heard of a
German Catholic monk by the name of Martin Luther who became exasperated
with the corruption of the Church and decided to start his own purified
version. But perhaps we are not as cognizant of another ex-Catholic
holy man, contemporary with Luther, a former priest from Holland, called
Menno Simons. Menno was not the founder of the movement that would eventually
bear his name (that honor goes more properly to the Swiss Reformer Ulrich
Zwingli) but he was one of its most important writers and leaders.
Menno
and his fellow Anabaptists, or “Rebaptizers” were part of what is known
as the Radical Reformation. These radicals believed in many of the same
things that the Lutherans did, namely that the Catholic Church had gotten
out of touch with the original spirit of Christianity, that the Bible
should be available in the language of the common people, and that salvation
did not come through an institution but by faith in God alone. But these
Radical Reformers also felt that the main body of the Reformation had
not gone far enough.
Some
began to say that it wasn’t right that membership in a church should
be conferred upon infants, like the Catholics and Lutherans did, but
should only be granted to people old enough to make a rational decision
to join.
Some
began to question how one could profess to follow Jesus, “the Prince
of Peace,” who taught love for enemies, and yet take up a sword when
ordered to by the state.
Some
began to challenge the idea that the church and state should be in collusion
at all, arguing that primitive Christianity was counter-cultural and
prophetic and did not participate in the forces of coercion and control.
It’s been said that the Anabaptists formed the first “free” church in
modern history, “free” in the sense of not being bound up with state
control.
Some
even went so far as to point out that the word “Trinity” is found nowhere
in the Bible and claim that the Scriptural evidence that God was three
persons in one was not very convincing. Even though the idea that God
is composed of Father, Son, and Spirit would prevail in Mennonite churches,
it’s worth noting that many of the Anabaptists, from which Mennonites
spring, and the Anti-Trinitarians, from which Unitarians derive, were
the same people. Hence, I call Mennonites and Unitarians “kissing cousins.”
More
broadly, though, many of the chief themes of the Anabaptist movement—the
use of reason in religion, the separation of church and state, a critique
of how the state uses its power, and that the church should be free
and freely chosen—are still ideas UU’s cherish today.
The
authorities of the sixteenth century did not look favorably on these
new ideas. Just as the Anti-Trinitarian Michael Servetus escaped his
Catholic opponents only to be burned at the stake by his fellow Reformer,
John Calvin, Mennonites underwent terrible persecution at the hands
of Catholics and Protestants as well.
About
the reasons for this persecution, Ian, a Mennonite in England, cited
on a Mennonite website, says: (quote)
…such was the fear
and loathing that was conveyed by the term "Anabaptist" that,
even during the ferment and turbulence of the early 17th century and
the English revolution, there was no worse thing you could apparently
accuse someone of than being an Anabaptist…. The Anabaptists struck
fear into the hearts of the respectable classes and the authorities
because they were a church of the poor. This was a movement which empowered
the poor, it made them independent of the rich and powerful. The powers
that be could not control them, because they were living by a different
base of values and priorities to the rulers of the State, who had long
got used to the Church behaving in a way that was acceptable to them.
(unquote)
Thousands
were burned or tortured, put in thumbscrews or on racks, or placed in
hanging cages till they starved and rotted as a warning to the public.
Many of these persecutions are documented in a thick book called
The Martyr’s Mirror, which was one of the first books published
in America.
Growing
up as a Mennonite kid, I was made very aware that my forebears had died
for the faith. I still remember a story about how Anabaptists would
move from place to place under the hay in wagons. At checkpoints, these
wagons were sometimes searched by plunging a pitchfork into the pile.
If the sharp points pierced your flesh, you had to resist crying out
or you and your comrades would be captured. Or there is the story of
Menno himself driving a passenger wagon that was stopped by the authorities.
Not knowing what he looked like, they told him they were looking for
Menno Simons. Rather than committing a sin by lying and telling them
he was not Menno Simons, he turned to his passengers and asked, “Is
there a Menno Simons back there?” His question being answered in the
negative, the guards sent him on his way.
And
finally, I can never forget the story of Dirk Willems, a Dutch Anabaptist
who was chased by a sheriff over thin ice. As the men ran, the pursuer
fell through into the freezing waters below. Rather than doing the expected
thing of continuing to run away, Dirk stopped and turned around. Jesus
had taught doing good to those that persecute you and showing love,
even to your enemy. Dirk helped the sheriff to safety. The sheriff did
not have the same Christian love, or even gratitude, and arrested Dirk
who was then burnt at the stake.
I
still remember being at a Mennonite camp as a teenager and going through
an exercise in which my friend Rich (who was a linebacker on the football
team) and I played the role of officers of an authoritarian government,
which had outlawed Christianity. The rest of the youth there played
the parts of members of underground churches, meeting secretly in residences,
caves, and forest groves. You know, through that whole weekend retreat,
Rich and I didn’t find a single secret prayer group! It seems that some
of that hiding skill has been passed down through ages….
Overall,
I have fond memories of being raised Mennonite: the boys club in which
I played “Kick the Can,” the sumptuous and very fattening Pennsylvania
Dutch potlucks, the youth group which helped me to come out of my proverbial
“shell,” the intense feelings of liberation and release at the bi-annual
communion and foot washing services, in which I first felt the stirrings
of the Holy Spirit.
I
would probably not be a minister today if it hadn’t been for the powerful
ministry of Pastor Al Detweiler, my hometown minister for the entire
time I was a Mennonite. I might not be a liberal today if it had not
been for Nelson Shenk, the man who would succeed Pastor Al, who taught
me to watch out for the power and abuses of a government that sometimes
drafts its citizens into wars it should not be engaged in.
One
of the chief things Mennonites are known for is their stance for peace
and against military service. Mennonites take Jesus’ words and example
very seriously as he taught his disciples to turn the other cheek and
gave no resistance as he was arrested and executed. Menno Simons wondered
in his writings how humanity, which had no sharp teeth, talons, or claws
like the wild animals, could yet be the most vicious of creatures in
their endless wars with each other, destroying whole cities and nations
in search of wealth and power. It is the Mennonite stance that taking
part in war, any war, is incompatible with a Christian life based on
love.
There’s
an excellent article in the current issue of the
UU World by the Mennonite scholar John Paul Lederach called “Breaking
the Cycle of Violence.” In it, he outlines non-violent responses to
the terrorist crisis that make sense whether one is a pacifist or not.
As
with the doctrines of any faith, this stance against fighting has been
imperfectly followed by Mennonites, and its compliance has varied from
one generation to another. One of my ancestors, for instance, fought
for the Union at Gettysburg and my late uncle Warren was an army paratrooper
in his youth. But many other Mennonites followed the precepts of their
faith and refused to take up the gun. My father was one. When he was
drafted to fight in Korea, he objected based on his religious beliefs.
The government then placed him in a special program for conscientious
objectors called 1-W Service, in which he worked as an orderly in a
state mental hospital. Many of the men in the program would go on to
spend their lives in service to the mentally ill.
By
the time of the War in Vietnam, with that era’s massive antiwar protests
and resistance to the draft, it seemed that the rest of the country
had caught up with the Mennonites and their questioning of the dictum,
“My country, right or wrong.”
But
peace is more than the absence of war. Pastor Al and his wife adopted
a number of Amer-Asian children resulting from that war, which were
friends of mine growing up. Indeed, a concern for all the world’s people
was always stressed for us at church. Whether it was providing nutrition
bars for the malnourished in Central America, clean drinking water in
Africa, or some other project, we were admonished never to forget that
we lived in a rich country and were to show God’s love to those less
fortunate. It being an evangelical faith, some of this mission work
was in the form of saving souls for Christ—an activity I would eventually
sour on. But a very important part was also seeing to the physical needs
of the world’s disadvantaged.
The
Mennonite way of life has always stressed simplicity, and this age-old
emphasis has taken on new meaning in this era of obscenely widening
gaps between the world’s rich and poor. Many Mennonite homes cook meals
from Doris Longacre’s revolutionary
More-with-Less Cookbook, which is “full of suggestions by Mennonites
on how to eat better and consume less of the world’s limited food resources.”
At Eastern Mennonite College, I was part of an intentional community
of a dozen students who lived together in a way that sought to maximize
communal life while minimizing our impact on the earth and its people.
So
what happened? you might ask. How did I get from there to here?
My journey was probably not much different from many others here this
morning that grew up in other faiths. I loved the church, its hymns,
its tight-knit community, the way that it introduced me to the world
of spirituality. But, like many others, I was in possession of a double-consciousness.
On the one hand, there was the church and family, which nurtured and
supported me. On the other, there was the greater world—education, television,
literature—which taught me there were many ways of life and many answers
to the questions that dogged me.
Even
though I grew up in Pennsylvania, a Mennonite stronghold, I went to
public schools where there were never more than a handful of my co-religionists.
I’ll always remember with a smile how a girl in my high school class
asked me if someone of my faith was allowed to marry. I responded, “I’m
a Mennonite, not a monk!” I knew I was different from most of my classmates.
At the same time, I was not completely at home in the church either.
A high-school friend of mine had a revealing dream about me. I was riding
a motorcycle on the golf course across from his house. As I wound back
and forth, my tires tore through the turf. As I sped away, he perceived
that my wheels had traced the words, MENNONITE MENACE!
How
many of us here today know what it’s like to feel like a menace—not
quite fitting in with the crowd? The questions I developed through high
school and college were not uncommon: How can a loving God send people
to hell for not accepting Jesus? How do we know that Jesus was really
the Son of God? How can it be that only one religion has a corner on
the truth?
In
the Mennonite Church, I never found answers to those questions I could
accept. And so I left, journeying through many religious highways and
byways, till I found this faith, where my mind could be free and my
tongue not be silent.
Like
any immigrant, I’m grateful for my new home and the opportunities it
affords. And yet, I would be less than honest if I did not say that
I mourn for being an exile from the place of my birth. The Mennonite
Church and I had irreconcilable differences and if I had it to do again
I would.
But
all of us here, whether Unitarian Universalists by birth or choice,
can appreciate that there is a duty more pressing than that of birth
or blood or comfort. And that is unto our own selves to be true. Unless
conscience rule us, we are slaves indeed.
And
so, in some way, I feel that I have not left the Mennonite faith, but
have, in my own small way, tried to fulfill its mission. Those men and
women of long ago who went to dungeon, rack, or grave did not do it
for a name, be it Anabaptist, Mennonite, or Unitarian. They did it because
they could not conceive of any other life than to do what they felt
was right. May each of us profit by their example. May each of us do
our part to put the radical back in our Reformation, and follow our
hearts—wherever they might lead.
Amen.
Sources:
A History of Unitarianism:
Socinianism and Its Antecedents
by
Earl Morse Wilbur
The
Epic of Unitarianism: Original Writings from the History of
Liberal
Religion, ed. David B. Parke
20 Most Asked Questions
About the Amish and Mennonites
by
Merle and Phyllis Good
www.mennolink.org