Who were the Anabaptists?

Anabaptism was a sixteenth-century radical Christian renewal movement in territories that now comprise parts of Switzerland, Austria, the Czech Republic, Germany, Alsace and the Netherlands.

Its distinguishing features included putting Jesus at the centre of our understanding of the Christian faith, emphasis on new birth and discipleship in the power of the Spirit, establishment of believers’ churches free from state control, commitment to economic sharing, and a vision of restoring New Testament Christianity.

It drew adherents primarily from poorer sections of the community, though early leaders included university graduates, monks and priests. Assessing its numerical strength is difficult, because it was driven underground by persecution; it certainly influenced many more people than those baptised as members.

Historians identify four main Anabaptist branches – the Swiss Brethren, the South German/Austrian Anabaptists, Dutch Mennonites and the communitarian Hutterites – but these branches comprised numerous groups which gathered around particular leaders and developed distinctive practices and emphases.

Although other factors (such as social discontent) contributed to its emergence, Anabaptism must be understood in the context of the Reformation and owed much to it, as its leaders freely acknowledged. Several things distinguished Anabaptists from the Reformers (e.g. Luther and Calvin):

• Radicalism. Anabaptists criticised the Reformers for their unwillingness to follow through biblical convictions. They were convinced Scripture was authoritative for ethics and church life as well as for doctrine, which the Reformers seemed unwilling to admit. Much to their discomfort, Anabaptists reminded the Reformers of their own more radical early views, which they had jettisoned. Anabaptists championed immediate action rather than the Reformers’ cautious approach.

• Restitution. Anabaptists believed the official church was “fallen” beyond mere reform. Thorough restoration of New Testament Christianity was necessary, which required freedom from state control and ecclesiastical traditions. Anabaptists urged separation of church and society and rejected the Christendom system, in which church and state were entwined, that had dominated European culture since the fourth century. They asserted that for centuries the official church had been in error, not only in certain doctrines, but also on the question of its identity and relationship with society.

• An Alternative Tradition. Anabaptists have been described as “step-children of the Reformers”, but there was resonance with earlier movements, such as the Unitas Fratrum, Waldensians and Lollards. Anabaptists were neither Catholic nor Protestant, but heirs of an alternative tradition that had persisted throughout the centuries since Constantine in the 4th century. Often regarded as heretics and persecuted, these “old evangelical brotherhoods” kept alive beliefs and practices that the official church ignored or marginalised.

• A Church of the Poor. As with these earlier groups, Anabaptists were mostly poor and powerless, with few wealthy, academic or influential members. They were regarded as subversives, although few were primarily politically or economically motivated. It is legitimate, however, to regard some Anabaptists as heirs of the failed Peasants’ Revolt (1524-1526), still pursuing their concerns through the alternative strategy of establishing communities where just practices were fostered. Those whose vested interests were threatened vehemently opposed Anabaptism, a grass-roots revival with disturbing implications for the church/state amalgam at the heart of the European social order. Some Anabaptist views owe much to their powerless position: Anabaptists were prepared to obey the Bible regardless of social consequences.

• “Anabaptists”. Anabaptists called themselves Christians or brothers and sisters; their opponents called them enthusiasts, revolutionaries or “Anabaptists”. This label, meaning “re-baptisers”, had negative connotations. Anabaptists objected to this: they did not regard believers’ baptism as rebaptism because they denied the validity of infant baptism, and baptism was not the main issue, although it symbolised their rejection of Christendom.

What did Anabaptists believe?

Anabaptism was a diverse, fluid but coherent movement. Various stimuli enabled it to develop in different places, resulting in regional variations and some sharp internal disagreements. It developed towards greater uniformity of belief and practice by mid-century. Most Anabaptists shared the following convictions:

•The Bible
Anabaptists agreed with the Reformers about the Bible’s authority but disagreed strongly about its interpretation and application. They focused on the New Testament and particularly the life and teachings of Jesus. This “Christocentrism” was a hallmark of Anabaptism that radically affected the way in which the Bible was approached. Balthasar Hübmaier (1481-1528), the leading Anabaptist theologian, (Snyder p55) explained: “all the Scriptures point us to the spirit, gospel, example, ordinance and usage of Christ.” Anabaptists started from Jesus and interpreted everything in the light of him – unlike the Reformers whom Anabaptists suspected of starting from doctrinal passages and trying to fit Jesus into these. Anabaptists refused to treat the Bible as a “flat” book, regarding it as an unfolding of God’s purposes, with the New Testament providing normative guidelines for ethics and church life. They challenged the Reformers’ use of Old Testament models and disagreed with them about such issues as baptism, war, tithing, church government and swearing oaths. In debates, Anabaptists complained that the Reformers used Old Testament passages illegitimately to set aside clear New Testament teaching.

•Salvation
The Reformers emphasised justification by faith and forgiveness of past sins. Anabaptists emphasised new birth and power to live as Jesus’ disciples. The Reformers feared Anabaptists were reverting to salvation by works; the Anabaptists accused the Reformers of failing to address moral issues and of tolerating unchristian behaviour in their churches. “Shame on you for the easy-going gospel,” chided Menno Simons (c1496-1561) .

Anabaptists stressed the work of the Spirit in believers and taught that Jesus was to be followed and obeyed as well as trusted. He was not only Saviour but also Captain, Leader and Lord. Dirk Philips (1504-1568) wrote: “Jesus with his doctrine, life and example is our teacher, leader and guide. Him we must hear and follow.” Michael Sattler (c1490-1527), author of the Schleitheim Confession (1527), complained that, whereas Catholics appeared to advocate works without faith, the Reformers taught faith without works, but he wanted faith that expressed itself in works. Hans Denck (1495-1527) insisted that faith and discipleship were inter-connected: “no one can truly know Christ unless he follows him in life, and no one may follow him unless he has first known him.”

•The Church.
Anabaptists formed churches of committed disciples, denying that all citizens should be regarded automatically as church members. They insisted on differentiating believers from unbelievers, so that church membership could be voluntary and meaningful. They acknowledged the role of the state in government but resisted state control of their churches. They rejected infant baptism as unbiblical, forcibly imposed on children and a hindrance to developing believers’ churches. They challenged the way the clergy dominated church life, lack of church discipline and coercion in matters of faith. Although greater formalism gradually developed, early gatherings were sometimes charismatic and unstructured, concentrating on Bible study. Some churches encouraged women to participate much more actively than was normal in contemporary church or society. They met wherever they could – in homes, woods, fields, even in boats. A Congregational Order (1527) conveys their serious informality: “when the brothers and sisters are together, they shall take up something to read together. The one to whom God has given the best understanding shall explain it...when a brother sees his brother erring, he shall warn him according to the command of Christ, and shall admonish him in a Christian and brotherly way.”

•Evangelism.
The Reformers did not generally practise evangelism. Where they had state support, they relied on sanctions to coerce attendance (though there are examples of evangelism and church planting by Calvinists in Catholic France where Protestants could not coerce). They assumed within Protestant territories that church and society were indistinct, so their policy was to pastor people through the parish system, rather than evangelising them as unbelievers. The Anabaptists rejected this interpretation of church and society and refused to use coercion. They embarked on a spontaneous missionary venture to evangelise Europe. Evangelists like Hans Hut (1490-1527) travelled widely, preached in homes and fields, interrupted state church services, baptised converts and planted churches. Such evangelism, ignoring national and parish boundaries, by untrained men and women, was regarded as outrageous.

•Ethics
Anabaptists were socially deviant, challenging contemporary norms and living in anticipation of the Kingdom of God.

They questioned the validity of private property. The Hutterites lived in communities and held their possessions in common. Most Anabaptists retained personal ownership, but all taught that their possessions were not their own but were available to those in need. The 1527 Congregational Order urged: “Of all the brothers and sisters of this congregation, none shall have anything of his own, but rather, as the Christians in the time of the apostles held all in common, and especially stored up a common fund, from which aid can be given to the poor, according as each will have need, and as in the apostles’ time permit no brother to be in need.” When they shared communion they confirmed this mutual commitment.

They rejected the use of violence, refusing to defend themselves by force. Conrad Grebel (1498-1526) described his congregation: “Neither do they use worldly sword or war, since all killing has ceased with them.” They urged love for enemies and respect for human life. Anabaptists accepted that governments would use force but regarded this as inappropriate for Christians. Felix Mantz (c1498-1527) concluded: “no Christian could be a magistrate, nor could he use the sword to punish or kill anyone.” They aimed to build an alternative community, changing society from the bottom up.

Many refused to swear oaths. Oaths were very important in sixteenth-century Europe, encouraging truth-telling in court and loyalty to the state. Anabaptists often rejected these, citing Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 5 and arguing that they should always be truthful, not just under oath. Nor would they swear loyalty to any secular authority.

• Suffering.
Anabaptists were not surprised by persecution. They knew they would be seen as revolutionaries, despite their commitment to non-violence; as heretics, despite their commitment to the Bible; and as disturbers of the status quo. They regarded suffering for obedience to Christ as unavoidable and biblical: suffering was a mark of the true church, as Jesus had taught in the Sermon on the Mount. Their very persecution of Anabaptists showed that the reformers themselves were not building a biblical church.

What happened to the Anabaptists?

The Anabaptist movement was regarded as dangerous, and a tragic incident in 1535 seemed to justify the concerns of the authorities. Anabaptists gathered in the North German town of Münster, gained control of the town council and instituted a form of society characterised by oppression and extremism. Eventually the town was captured by military force and the inhabitants were slaughtered. Although most Anabaptists dissociated themselves from what happened there, Münster seemed to represent what the authorities feared from Anabaptism. The movement was persecuted by both Catholics and Protestants and was nearly drowned in blood. Those who survived in the regions where Anabaptism began did so by finding refuge in rather more tolerant cities, keeping on the move, meeting in secret and gradually becoming quieter about what they believed as the evangelistic fires cooled.

Many migrated east to find safer homes with greater freedom to worship in the way they wanted and to live without fear of arrest. Gradually Mennonite and Hutterite families and communities moved further into what is now Eastern Europe and on into Russia. From all over Europe, further periods of migration led many to settle in Canada and the USA, where large numbers of the descendants of the Anabaptists now live.

But the majority of Anabaptists now live neither in Europe nor in North America but in the southern hemisphere. During the 20th century, through extensive and creative mission activities, Anabaptism became a global movement. These mission activities included evangelism and church planting, disaster relief and development work, and working for peace and justice in divided communities. In some nations Mennonite churches are flourishing. In several others individuals and churches are discovering Anabaptism as a resource for renewal and faithful discipleship.

Accounts of what Anabaptists believed and how they lived — together with warnings about the danger they posed to society, frequently focused on what happened at Münster — were written by many of their contemporaries. “Anabaptist” became a label used to attack many radicals over the years, even if they had no links with the Anabaptist tradition and believed very different things. For the next four centuries the Anabaptist movement would be ignored or regarded (on the basis of such hostile accounts) as subversive, heretical and or of only marginal significance in the history of the church. Not until the middle of the 20th century did Mennonite historians succeed in presenting the Anabaptist tradition through its own writings rather than those of its enemies – and a very different and much more attractive picture emerged.

What other movements held similar beliefs?

Church history, like all history, has both winners and losers, heroes and villains. And church history, again like all history, is written mainly by the winners and from their perspective. What they wrote may have been deliberately biased and hostile, or they may have attempted to be sympathetic and fair. But the history that emerges is necessarily an interpretation of events, personalities, beliefs and practices. Although there may be other legitimate interpretations or flaws in the official interpretation, it is not always easy to discover these.

When we look at church history, it is tempting to spend all our time on the winners, the mainline churches, establishment Christianity. We may not like everything we find here, but at least we are on safe ground and there are some wonderful saints to be found. The fringe groups that appear in the margins of many textbooks, or are dismissed as ‘schismatics’ or ‘heretics’, sound interesting but dangerous. Are they worth studying, or do we accept the judgment of their contemporaries and later generations of historians? Even if we are interested enough to explore one or more of these groups, it is difficult to discover much about them from these meagre references in the familiar historical textbooks.

This may not simply be because the writers of these books were uninterested in such groups. Often there is limited information about them available to historians. Those whose views and policies prevailed in each generation made sure that their version of events became the official version. The writings of the losers were destroyed, their activities interpreted in the worst possible light, and their memory vilified. What we know of many fringe groups is drawn largely from their opponents, and this is usually open to the charge of being somewhat biased.

However, although many of these difficulties remain, the situation is less bleak than it used to be. During the past fifty years or more, several of these groups have found champions prepared to set aside the traditional evaluations of their significance and present them in a new light, using what little remains of their own writings, and refusing to accept uncritically the accounts given by their enemies. It is now possible to put together what might be termed a ‘Losers’ Guide to Church History’, a survey of an alternative radical church history that is quite different from the official version, based on the research and scholarship of historians who have provided translations of primary sources, revisited earlier accounts and offered new interpretations of the available data.

But there are still difficulties. The few written sources available to us do not give us a complete picture, and it is tempting to fill in the gaps from our imagination, or using doubtful sources. A good example of this is the popular book by E H Broadbent, The Pilgrim Church, which attempts to trace a ‘silver thread’ of Christianity from the first century to the twentieth. It is a wonderful and inspiring romance and it contains much historical data. But it assumes too much, makes unwarranted connections, and is frequently unreliable. We simply have to accept that our knowledge of some groups or individuals is very limited, and with most it probably always will be. There is little prospect of new source material being discovered. Many of these groups in any case were poor and illiterate. They spread their teachings mainly by word of mouth, rather than through books.

Another temptation is to create new heroes. In trying to rescue the losers from obscurity and calumny, we can easily gloss over their weaknesses and present an unrealistic and unbalanced picture of them. Around the fringes of the mainline church were real heretics, persistent troublemakers and stubborn individualists. But there were also some wonderful men and women who paid dearly for their faithfulness and courage.

The Anabaptist Network has been primarily concerned to offer resources from the Anabaptist tradition, but it has also from time to time drawn attention to other movements that held similar (though not identical beliefs). Articles in Anabaptism Today have introduced readers to the English radicals and the Waldensians. Conferences have introduced participants to the Celtic tradition, to English radical groups such as the Lollards, Diggers, Levellers and Quakers. Papers from the English Radicals conference have for some time been available on this web site, and further information on other radical movements can now be found here.

Who is interested in Anabaptism today?

After centuries of neglect and dismissal, evaluation on the basis of statements from their opponents, and misinterpretation, Anabaptism has been rediscovered as a potent source of renewal and a highly relevant historical movement. The “Anabaptist Vision” has been glimpsed afresh, not just by the Anabaptists’ lineal descendants, but by Christians from various traditions. The following examples demonstrate the indebtedness of many to the vision, example and writings of the Anabaptists.

The influence of Anabaptism on contemporary Christianity is mediated partly through the direct descendants of the Anabaptists (primarily the Mennonites, the Church of the Brethren the Brethren in Christ and the Hutterites) and partly through their indirect descendants. By this is meant those groups that have either some lineal connection with the Anabaptists, or major features that were derived in some way from Anabaptism. The Baptists are an example of the former. The Methodists and the Arminian wing of Dutch Calvinism are examples of the latter.

It was calculated in 1948 that these groups could account for almost a quarter of the membership of the World Council of Churches. The influence of the Baptists and the Mennonites on the thinking and practices of churches across the world has been significant, especially through their missionary activities. If the rapidly expanding Pentecostal movement is included among the descendants of Anabaptism (and it has been suggested that Pentecostalism is its closest contemporary equivalent), then these descendants form a major force in contemporary Christianity alongside the Catholic, Orthodox and Protestant streams.

Furthermore, the Anabaptist vision has functioned in recent years as a renewing model for these groups. Mennonites have become aware of the extent to which they have adopted ideas and practices from Protestantism and in many places they have consciously returned to Anabaptist emphases. Among Baptists, also, there is growing interest in their hitherto embarrassing Anabaptist roots and a readiness to explore the implications for their church governance.

Contemporary movements exploring the radical implications of Christian discipleship have drawn on the Anabaptist vision. Among these are Radical Evangelicals in North and South America and some sections of the House Church Movement in the United Kingdom. Other influential free church writers also identify themselves as Anabaptist in perspective, whatever their denominational allegiances.

Perhaps more surprising is the recognition within Catholic, Anglo-Catholic and mainline Protestant circles of the contribution that Anabaptism might make to the contemporary church. Michael Novak, in a famous article entitled “The Free Churches and the Roman Church”, interpreted Vatican II and its developments as moving in the direction of the Anabaptist vision in several areas. Theologians such as both Kenneth Leech and Jürgen Moltmann have urged the recovery of the idea of discipleship found among the Anabaptists but neglected by the Reformers and their descendants. Peter Wagner used the Anabaptists in his writings on church growth as an example of a structure that combined church and mission agency. Rodney Clapp, former associate editor of Christianity Today, has drawn on Anabaptist perspectives in his analysis of the role of the church in a post-Christian society. Popular journals are now prepared to devote considerable space to Anabaptism.

Usually there is no intention of adopting the Anabaptist vision in its entirety, but there is considerable interest in many of Anabaptist perspectives:

• Witness to peace and enemy-loving as an integral part of the gospel

• Concern about discipleship and “doing the truth”

• Commitment to religious liberty and tolerance

• Antipathy to institutions

• Commitment to community and economic sharing

• Witness to the potential of counter-cultural alternatives

• Rejection of Christendom

Some have also made suggestions about the significance of Anabaptist perspectives in wider society. Modern ideas about democracy, the separation of church and state, and consensus decision-making can be traced to various sources, but Anabaptism is one influential source of these now widely accepted concepts.

What about Anabaptism in Britain?

A few Anabaptists fled to England in the 16th century, hoping to escape persecution and find a place of refuge to the west rather than the east. Those who were detected by the authorities were soon rounded up and imprisoned. A few were many others were deported. The story of what happened to one such group of refugees is told by Alan Kreider in the book Coming Home. It was very clear that Anabaptists were not welcome in Britain. Even in the 39 Articles of the Church of England, there are still warnings about Anabaptists! During the next four centuries there were few, if any, overt Anabaptists in Britain.

Not until the end of World War II did Anabaptists begin to come to Britain again, but in the past fifteen years the Anabaptist tradition has once again become visible in Britain and also in Ireland. Expressions of this include the London Mennonite Centre and the Wood Green Mennonite Church, and two Hutterian communities in the south-east of England. There is also an opportunity to study Anabaptism through a postgraduate programme at
Spurgeon’s College in London. But there are many others in all the main Christian denominations who are interested in Anabaptism and drawing on its values and practices. To these and others the Anabaptist Network offers resources and opportunities for dialogue.

Extracts from Coming Home

Also, see Fear of "Anabaptists" in Sixteenth-Century England

From the Introduction

By Stuart Murray Williams (near right) and Alan Kreider (far right)

Anabaptism and the British Isles today – for most people these simply do not go together. The historically conscious may think of Anabaptism as a radical part of the European Reformation; but that was 450 years ago, on the continent. Others who are visually aware, or who have been tourists, may think of Anabaptism as alive in the late twentieth century, but in North America where communities of photogenic Amish, Mennonites and Hutterians live. But Anabaptism in Britain and Ireland today? That seems difficult to imagine.

It’s not hard to explain this silence. From the 1530s onwards in England, Anabaptism was a word of shame and abuse. It became the great pejorative, the A-word of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, which could categorise and discredit anyone who was more radical religiously than oneself. Repeatedly Anabaptists who strayed onto British soil were persecuted. Even the Baptists, the tradition which has been most closely associated with Anabaptism, have been of two minds about the association. As Baptist theologian Nigel Wright has put it, “When Baptists want to appear respectable they talk about their Puritan roots; when they want to appear radical they talk about their Anabaptist heritage.” And most of the time most Baptists have wanted to appear respectable! As a result, since the sixteenth century, Anabaptism has largely been absent from the British Isles, and its ideas, to which some radicals have now and then paid homage, have lacked embodiment in individuals and communities.

But things are changing. In the past two decades individual Christians – and even a few communities – throughout the British Isles have been discovering Anabaptism as a source of ideas, identity and a living heritage. This book is a product of that change. It grew out of something that would have been unthinkable until recently – an Anabaptist Theological Circle. This group twice a year brings together a dozen Baptist, Anglican, New Church and Mennonite theologians. To its October 1997 meeting came a request from church leaders, especially Baptists in England, for guidelines to present to congregations who are exploring Anabaptist-flavoured church renewal. What does Anabaptism have to contribute to the future of the church in England, and specifically to congregations involved in mission?

The Theological Circle was grinding away, trying to distil Anabaptist insights into a few pithy statements. Suddenly someone said: “I don’t think we’re doing this in a very helpful way. It doesn’t feel very Anabaptist to me; it feels more like the mainstream Reformers. How about if, instead of stating normative characteristics, we decided to collect our stories? If we did, the picture of Anabaptism in the British Isles that would emerge might be less coherent; but it would be a lot more concrete – and certainly more interesting.” This led to some uncomfortable hours. It seemed to divert us from the request that responsible people who care about the future of the church had made to the group. Could we instead try something very different, which might result in something unpredictably creative?

The group decided to go for the stories. An invitation to write “Anabaptist stories” was inserted in the Anabaptist Network journal, Anabaptism Today. The brief was simple: to tell in story form how they discovered Anabaptist thinking and how it shaped their lives and thinking. What ideas, what books, what communities were important to them in their discovery of Anabaptism? Over twenty stories arrived, some of which were from people whom we editors had not met before but who obviously are deeply affected by Anabaptism. Alan and Eleanor Kreider then wrote to other people whom they knew had been involved in the Anabaptist Network, and the collection of stories more than doubled in size.

It quickly emerged that many of the stories had a common theme – coming home – a phrase that cropped up so frequently in conversations that we have chosen it as the title for this book. People from an astonishing range of denominational and theological backgrounds felt that in discovering Anabaptism they were finding their home. Something clicked, something made sense, “the penny dropped”, to enable people in the fluid cultural and religious situations around the turn of the millennium to sense that here, in Anabaptism, they belong.

Many things have no doubt led to this, but one stands out – the collapse of Christendom. For 1,500 years after the conversion of the Roman Emperor Constantine I in the early fourth century, Christians in the West sensed that they were a part of an all-embracing Christian civilisation. In theory, and to a considerable extent in practice, everyone belonged to this – they were baptised into the established churches as infants; everyone believed the doctrine that orthodox Christianity prescribed; and everyone knew how Christians were supposed to behave. Of course, things were never as neat as this; the court records of Christian Europe are full of all manner of deviance. But the point is that it is the court records that inform us of this. People who dissented from Christendom patterns of belonging, belief and behaviour got in trouble. Christendom was powerful, but it was always questionable whether its power was rooted as much in the freely given consent of the people as it was in inducement and compulsion. By the post-World War II period it was clear that, in many European countries, Christendom was in crisis. Social and legal sanctions were disappearing, and people were behaving in ways that by Christendom standards were quite unacceptable. Parents were not having their babies christened; teenagers were not being confirmed; on television people began to use bad language and to despise religion. The sense of religious “at-homeness” that Christendom had provided for many people for over a millennium was now disappearing.

Christian people have responded to this in many ways. Some have sought to fight the changes in the courts, invoking “blasphemy” laws. Others have sought comfort in the spirit of the Christendom heritage – it is impressive that repeatedly in recent years records of Gregorian chant have topped the charts. Still others have prayed for “revival” or “renewal” – words which indicate a restoration of the Christendom era in which Christians could set the moral tone for the nation. Many Christians have with great energy founded new churches, experimented with new forms of worship and organised new initiatives for evangelism. As a new millennium begins, there are many who are perplexed, and who wonder about the way forward.

It is in this post-Christendom world that people have begun to “come home”. They have begun to discover Anabaptism as a means of charting a distinctive way of being Christian in the British Isles. The stories of what drew some of these people to Anabaptism are the heart of this book. But central to them all is the sense that there can be a radicalism in the present through a rediscovery of a living past. Roots, actually as well as etymologically, can be radical! In many and various ways, for these people Anabaptist ideas have come as a relief, a tonic, a new way of thinking about and living the Christian mission which has special relevance for a post-Christendom world. As the stories will indicate, the result can be one of relief and gratitude. “Once no people, now God’s people.” This old biblical theme resounds through these stories. People who have been rootless have found roots; people who have been homeless have found a home.

For most of these people “home” is not a new denomination. There are two explicitly Anabaptist traditions represented in the UK. The Bruderhof, who have two flourishing communities in the south-east of England, have influenced many through their hospitality, the solid wooden toys which they manufacture, and their journal, The Plough. There are also the Mennonites, whose Wood
Green Mennonite Church and London Mennonite Centre, both in North London, have provided teaching and resources. These have influenced many, and some British people have joined the Bruderhof or the Mennonites.

But many people who are drawn to Anabaptism do not want to join a new community or denomination; instead they want to graft Anabaptist understandings on to their existing church commitments. These people may well be participants in the Anabaptist Network, readers of Anabaptism Today or members of one of the several Anabaptist Network Study Groups meeting in different parts of the country. Most will seek to incorporate Anabaptist concerns into the lives of their Anglican parishes or New Church congregations. A few will be in a position to go further. They may be in churches which are interested in espousing Anabaptism explicitly, becoming “hyphenated-Anabaptist” congregations. Newly-planted churches may also espouse an Anabaptist identity. In the years to come, congregations that call themselves “Anabaptist-Baptist” or “Anabaptist-Wesleyan” may not seem a total oddity. But for all of these people, there is a deep expectation that the church that will survive in the post-Christendom British Isles will be a church that embodies many Anabaptist themes.
‹ Coming Home: Stories of British and Irish AnabaptistsupFrom "Anabaptism Tomorrow" ›

From "Anabaptism Tomorrow"

By Noel Moules

I have taught Christians across Britain for many years and there is one question I am frequently asked, “Which period of church history would you most like to have lived in?” There is never any need to pause or stop to think, the answer for me is quite simple and very clear – “today and tomorrow”. Of course there are so many periods and events from the last 2,000 years that entice and lure me, but it is the present and the future that are the supreme challenge and opportunity. While we build upon the incredible heritage of the past, now is always the time to discover God in fresh ways and to make a major impact. This is our kairos moment!

Like a ship in a storm

As we look to the future, the challenge to the church in this country is enormous. Society and culture are involved in fundamental change – energised by individualism and consumerism, enabled by the most astonishing advances in technology, manipulated by the exploitative power of the media. Values are transient, the human story unimportant, the certainties and promises of the past an illusion. The terms “post-modern” and “post-Christian” affirm a break with what has gone before, but take us nowhere. There is existential questioning and spiritual searching everywhere; yet at the same time the majority of the population are not only unchurched but probably culturally “unchurchable”.

Added to this, within the church itself there is a watershed. Much of the church has been washed by the wake of the charismatic movement; however, its immediate impact is all but spent. In many sectors of the church little has been left untouched with its passing; there has been a serious shaking of foundations as well as superstructure, but to what end? Churches in historical denominations along with independent congregations have become less inhibited in worship and more spontaneous in spiritual self-expression, but now that charismatic characteristics have become part of the popular Christian ethos and the acrimonious conflicts of the early days have passed, many people are looking for something more. This fact alone reveals the shallowness of its legacy.

Across the country there has been increased networking between a whole variety of churches and groups, and there are some remarkable examples of church planting and church growth. However, rather than a growing hunger for “deepening”, I believe many people have become caught up in a cycle of “happening”. A taste has developed for “receiving” in preference to “being”. As a result, many people are always looking for the next wave – whatever that may be, whatever that may bring. This makes them vulnerable to focusing on short-term experiences, with their fragmented theology and spiritual naivete leaving them wide open to false teaching. The hopes of many are also increasingly pinned on God sovereignly sending a revival which, with little human effort, will fill the churches and change the face of the nation. What will be the spiritual fallout if this scenario fails to unfold? For all this emphasis on experience, I nevertheless meet very few Christians with a raw excitement for God.

In contrast, there are those who are disillusioned; who feel that the spiritual promises of previous years have never been fulfilled; and their disappointment has given way to a deep sadness. For them an early freedom, joy and sense of discovery appear to have been substituted by top-down structures; where strategy is replacing spontaneity and effort has often supplanted excitement and enthusiasm. As a result, across the country, there are growing numbers of mature, experienced Christians who are no longer actively part of a local church; or only touch its fringes. They still have a deep faith and living experience of God, but have become disenfranchised disciples. To describe some of them as “post-evangelical” may perhaps define their past, but it does not connect them to a future. For them, the organised structures of the Christian community are no longer nurturing their spirituality, nor creating an environment in which their gifts can be expressed. Neither do they feel that the church is seriously engaging with modern culture in a way that honestly grapples with the searching questions of their own hearts and of our times. It is not without significance that Christians like these are the fastest growing section of the church in Britain today.

Nevertheless, I personally believe that the greatest weakness in the church in Britain is with leadership. In struggling to relate living faith to changing culture, many leaders display little real sense of direction. Their lack of orientation can at times compromise their integrity. Many have become isolated, struggling to maintain both church systems and people’s expectations. Others, having succumbed to the popular Christian notion that successful local church means becoming big prosperous centres of spiritual power, come under intense unspoken pressure from their congregations to be part of this experience. They are urged to become networked with other groups that are sharing in this “success syndrome”. Many leaders are not leading but being driven. Along with all this comes insecurity, from which often spring authoritarian attitudes.

There is also the subtle seduction of power and the desire to be in control, which maintains hierarchical structures and fails properly to enable the community of faith to function with maturity. Most experiments with “cell-church” will fail because the cells are not genuinely empowered; authority remains centralised and they become little more than revamped house groups. Leadership weakness is also seen in superficial biblical teaching and the expectation that people will follow “party lines” in thinking. There is virtually no encouragement for individuals to reason, question and experiment for themselves and so enrich the body as a whole with divine diversity. The situation is compounded by the fact that few leaders seem aware, or prepared to admit, that anything is other than completely satisfactory. The role of leadership is vital, but the old mould of both style and thinking have got to be broken.

As the twentieth century falls behind us the challenge to the church is serious. Apart from the concerns I have outlined above, pre-millennial tension has also exacted its toll. Few will admit to the level of expectation there has actually been. At one extreme there have been the minority, fairly certain that Jesus would return. Far greater numbers have been part of widely publicised schemes for world evangelisation or massive national church growth; all of which have fallen dramatically short of their original widely publicised objectives. Many more people just had a sense that the year 2000 should have been spiritually significant; the fact that it wasn’t leaves them with the question, “Where do we go from here?” Like a ship in a storm, these are days of disappointment and often unspoken struggle with faith for many Christians.

Grasping the moment

This is where the doors open to so many wonderful possibilities! In spite of the sobering picture I have painted, many exciting things are also happening in the Church in Britain, and often in the most unexpected places. This book is an important glimpse into part of that story and promise for the future. The remarkable growth of interest in Anabaptism and the influence of its ideas are not accidental. I believe God’s hand is behind it all. So many spiritual journeys, from every direction and background, are converging on an approach to the Christian faith that draws us towards the truth.

As we have seen, the term “Anabaptism” means different things to different people, yet it connects together in a common bond those touched by it. It has always held within itself a diversity of contrasting views. For me, it defines a unique ethos rather than a specific agenda. It is not so much what was experienced and experimented with in the sixteenth century, inspiring though this is, that is of primary importance. Rather it is the way in which those radical reformers rediscovered the Christian faith and approached Scripture, their ability to reach past the barriers thrown up by Christendom and to tap into the original source and character of our faith. To me, the quintessence of Anabaptism is the vision and values it confronts us with and the direction in which they call us to follow.

At its most focused, this is an encounter with the person and life of the historical Jesus, who came preaching peace. He is our model; his example, death, resurrection and the sending of the Spirit enable us to follow in his steps. Everything else flows from this irreducible central core. The word “Christocentric” recurs throughout the text of this book and that is because it is the key. It means, first and foremost, that each one of us must personally come to a place of being convinced that the new covenant experience flows from a clear commitment in discipleship to Jesus; which takes seriously his pattern of life for our own; which is prepared to practise and experiment with his hard sayings in the power of the Spirit.

Such a seemingly obvious decision for a Christian will, in reality, set us at odds with much historic – and alas contemporary – Christian thinking which has marginalised Jesus to a theological principle, rather than embracing him as the person who is our model and example. However, I dare to believe that in God’s economy one of the purposes of the charismatic movement – as of other forms of spiritual re-energising – has been to prepare the church for a liberated radical discipleship that is ignited, empowered and characterised by the presence of God and the work of the Spirit. In a Christian ethos that is looking for the next “experience,” this is a cold sober choice [metanoia]. For the vision and values of Anabaptism to truly impact churches and secular communities, the first step must be made by individuals who are inspired by a deep joy and spontaneous freedom in Jesus.

Early Anabaptists have been described as being “neither Protestant nor Catholic”. While these words make an important historical point, they also express a vital truth; the fact that there is only one Church. The original Anabaptists were rejected by both sides in the Reformation; our aim today is to be a catalyst in reconciliation and ecumenism. We wish to affirm the indivisible unity of the community of faith, bringing the body of Christ together. Our desire is to bridge-build and embrace everyone who names the name of Jesus, has been touched by the fire of his love and is following him. Several contributors have expressed how it is also our desire to draw deeply from the diverse streams of Christian spirituality – Celtic, Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant, ancient, modern and global – and so create a confluence of richness and reality to the glory of God. This was not possible in the historical circumstances of the sixteenth century, but I believe it is nevertheless true to the spirit of the Anabaptists. It is also essential if we are to be the one united church God wants us to be, bold witnesses to Jesus into the future.

However, a word of warning. The increasing interest in Anabaptism across Britain itself presents a challenge. In some Christian circles people respond to new manifestations of Anabaptism with alarm, fearing that there will be new attacks on cherished Christian practices, leading to new divisions. In other Christian circles Anabaptism has positive connotations and is in danger of becoming a buzz-word. In order to sound radical, the language of some groups and individuals is merely being decorated with “Anabaptist-speak”, without seriously changing their thinking or behaviour. For example, the themes of community and nonconformity appear attractive, while the subjects of non-violence and justice are ignored. The challenge to each of us is to grapple with all the issues with which the radical reformers wrestled and work out their implications in our own times. Likewise, to attempt simply to “pick ’n’ mix” or try to “bolt on” certain Anabaptist ideas to existing frameworks of thought is to fail to do justice to them. They must be recognised as a unique culture that ferments and changes the whole.

Closer to the centre of the Network I believe there is another danger. Most of us were initially drawn towards the movement by the ideas, individuals and events of the Radical Reformation. The challenge is to be able to turn our encounter with these into tangible life-changing experiences for individuals and churches today. Solid and sustained research into all aspects of Anabaptism will always be a central task, but we must equally be conscious of the danger of the Network becoming simply a historical and theological society. If the fruits of our reflection do not practically and radically change the lives of individuals, churches and secular communities across this country, then we will have missed the most incredible opportunity.

The challenges within both the church and our culture are enormous, but I believe that the inherent Anabaptist values of thinking creatively and acting radically in the power of the Spirit can produce phenomenal results. This is not based upon some romantic view, but hard-headed experience over many years. Individuals and small groups working both within and outside existing structures can have an influence far beyond their number or their status. We must never underestimate the influence of a person whose demeanour, responses and attitudes are provocative by their unique truthfulness. Most social revolutions have spread by deeds observed or conversations shared. The power of the right word or action impacting an individual or group at exactly the right moment simply cannot be exaggerated. We should be working to change the current environment and culture of our churches and society; stimulating creative thinking, encouraging debate, provoking discussion. At every step we need to be learning from each other, sharing experiences, being humble enough to admit mistakes and childlike enough to rejoice over even small successes.

We have the chance significantly to influence the life of the church in this land for years ahead. It will almost certainly be “grass-roots-up” in its method, it will be gentle in its character, but it will not happen by some passive process of osmosis. If we are to grasp the moment, it will take a determined commitment on the part of each one to act boldly and single-mindedly. The question is: do we think that the themes of Anabaptism should simply be fashionable for a time, or are we convinced they point us clearly towards truth in its fundamental form?

An Anabaptist from Constantine's Garrison

by Jonathan Blakeborough, York

My wife and I grew up, and continue to live, in the city of York. York was founded as a military garrison by the Romans in AD 71, the city where Constantine was proclaimed Tetrarch as a prelude to becoming Christendom’s first emperor, notorious among the Jews as the site of England’s worst medieval pogrom, and a city that remains host to both the British Army’s N.E. Command and the northern primate of the Established church. Nevertheless, it also has a strong Quaker tradition and is perhaps not quite so inauspicious a place in which to be a peace church Christian.

I am also an Anglican by origin. Bedtime prayers with my mother, Sunday school, Cub Scouts, singing in the church choir and evangelistic summer camps, during one of which I committed my life to the Lord, were the major features of the landscape of my childhood and early adolescence.

To some it may seem a little fanciful to try to make too strong a connection between scouting and the military, except to note that both are uniformed organisations. However, as a youngster, I have to confess that I found all uniforms and their paraphernalia utterly fascinating, and by the age of 18 I was visiting army bases as a candidate for officer training.

Nevertheless, all was to change on a memorably cloudless afternoon during my final school holidays. As a “potential officer”, I was part of an Anglo-West German patrol collecting routine information along the border of the now defunct DDR. Having walked through a village literally cut in half by electric fences and razor wire, we came across a place in open country where a section of the Iron Curtain had been taken down for repairs! Teenage conscripts were digging holes for new fence posts, but nearby were heavily-armed sentries to prevent anyone defecting. It occurred to me that if one of the Easterners decided to make a run for it across no man’s land, it would take only a few seconds for the shooting to start. All of us, West and East, would be caught out in the open, so it would not be our weapons that would keep us alive, but everyone’s restraint – now there’s a thought!! I wasn’t afraid, but on that beautiful July day felt profoundly shabby, an apprentice to a dirty trade. It was the beginning of the end of my military career.

Years later, as medical students, my wife and I decided to broaden our ecclesiastical horizons and began to attend a Baptist church. Like many before us, we opted to be “rebaptised” as believers, but subsequently seldom came across other Christians who combined Baptist-style beliefs (believers’ baptism, separation of church and state, and priesthood of all believers) with a radical social vision and non-violence, until a theological friend suggested that I get in contact with the London Mennonite Centre, who in turn put me in touch with the nascent Anabaptist Network. At long last, I could put a name to what I had become, an Anabaptist from Constantine’s garrison. Maybe now is the time for me to recruit a few more and establish an outpost of the Prince of Peace.

 Jonathan Blakeborough is a psychiatrist working in Ilkley.

What Makes Anabaptists so Annoying?

by Ruth Gouldbourne, Bristol

I think I was ten or eleven, and the family was on our annual holiday. This year we were travelling in northern Germany, dividing our time between finding swimming pools and looking at sites of historical interest. On this day, which was unbearably hot, I was standing with my father in the middle of the town square waiting for my mother and sister to return from some shopping. “Look up at that spire,” said my father. “Do you see those cages? That was where the captured Anabaptists were hung on display.” We were spending a few days in Münster, and it was the first time I had heard of the Anabaptists as a group of real people rather than a name for my sister (Ann). My father told me as much of the story as a ten-year-old could pay attention to, and I started to wonder just what kind of people these could be that everybody hated and feared so much.

Fifteen years later, I started a course in Reformation history as part of my theological degree, and the Anabaptists recurred to my consciousness, and I found in them a welcome antidote to the very high Anglicanism of the college, always a little uncomfortable to a Baptist. And again, I found myself puzzled about why a group, which seemed so innocuous, was so hated and feared. This time the puzzlement became so insistent that it became part of the desire to do further academic research, and led to my current PhD work.

However, I found that an interest in the Anabaptists could not be limited to an antiquarian one, especially as I was serving in a local pastorate and beginning to find that reflection on the meaning and practice of the nature of the church was an immediate issue. It was about this time that the Anabaptist Network was formed and I was able to join a group. Here I found a space where my historical interest and my pastoral and personal concern in the nature of discipleship and church came together.

Since then I have found my interest in and drawing from the Anabaptist tradition has become both more focused and more frustrating. As I have become more shaped by the tradition, and found that the ideas have become more and more important to me, partly through the discussions with others in the Network, so I have found my discontent with my present experience of church life and my own level of commitment has grown. In that way, I would not say that my involvement with Anabaptist ideas and people has been an unmixed comfort; in fact, my original impression has stayed with me. What is it about these people that makes them so annoying? But I have made some progress – what makes them so annoying is that they challenge, undermine and de-centre so much of what I and others take for granted about the way of being Christian at this time and in my place. To be involved with Anabaptist ideas does not make for a comfortable life – thank God.

Ruth Gouldbourne is the minister of Bloomsbury Baptist Church, London.

Taking the Bible Seriously and Practising Equality

by Ed Sirett, London

I was brought up by parents who were members of a Christadelphian church. I was baptised when I was about fifteen years old. To a large extent Christadelphians believe much the same as many Evangelicals, but since they are (even more) preoccupied with smallest details of doctrine they tend to view all other Christians as very misguided at best. The worship was unvaried in the extreme.

When I was at university, I began to meet other people to whom the Bible was significant; a strange fact since I had been brought up with the idea that no other Christians took the Bible seriously! Well, after many years, I drifted through much apathy and eventually found myself converted to mainstream Christianity by the people who ran the Greenbelt festival. When I got married and moved to North London, my wife suggested that we could go to the Mennonites – but I was reluctant since I had spent many years escaping from a “cranky little sect”.

However, after a few years of attending an evangelical Anglican parish church we were ready for a change; this was due to some problems we were having “fitting in”. Both of us like to explore new ideas, not immediately rejecting them but holding them up to the yardstick of Jesus and our own and others’ experience. Both of us had significant problems with the clergy/male-dominated leadership that seemed not to acknowledge the talents of many in the congregation. I became somewhat bored with the same choruses being sung repetitively. My wife had significant bouts of depression which made people wary of her and her talents, rather than accepting her as another broken person in the image of God. Finally, we became disenchanted with much of the teaching, which was often simplistic (instead of simply explained) and in a spirit that left one feeling that we were being encouraged to follow Paul rather than Jesus.

On my first visit to the Mennonites I was in tears of relief and joy for most of the service. Here were followers of Jesus, who took the Bible seriously, who visibly practised equality among themselves. The equality was such that it was not something that this community was self-consciously doing, rather it was something so integral to their ways that anyone not doing it would have stood out simply as wrong. This equality was not just between men and women, it was between the young and old, the well and ill (in whatever way), adults and children, and most amazingly between the leadership and the led, those who had been there a long time and newcomers like ourselves.

After I began regularly attending the Mennonite church, I found that many aspects of the gospel that I had suspected were undervalued elsewhere were now held up as central to the teaching of Jesus (such as peace and justice, radical lifestyle changes, mutual submission, the communal nature of decision-making and discerning God, to name a few). Perhaps the most surprising thing that I discovered among the Mennonites was the best aspects of community life that I had experienced in my childhood – but with the merciless god of Sinai replaced with Jesus “full of grace and truth”.

Ed Sirett is manager of Make, Do and Mend, a property maintenance business in North London.