The request of our historic persecutors for forgiveness presents us Mennonites with a temptation and an opportunity, warns Jeremy Bergen, assistant professor of Religious Studies at Conrad Grebel University College, Waterloo, Ont. In response to a previous article in Canadian Mennonite, Bergen publsihed the following commentary on the magazine’s website.
Towards the conversion of churches
The request of our historic persecutors for forgiveness presents us Mennonites with a temptation and an opportunity.
As Canadian Mennonite editor/publisher Dick Benner noted in his “A grand family reunion” editorial (Aug. 17, 2009, page 2), Lutheran representatives at the Mennonite World Conference assembly made reference to asking Mennonites for forgiveness. The Lutheran leader spoke of plans to renounce some 16th-century condemnations of Anabaptists, a plan that was more fully reported on in the Nov. 16 article, “Lutherans called to recant.”
The temptation for us is self-righteousness. We might receive such requests as a giant pat on the back, a sign that we’ve arrived: “See, we were right all along! Glad to know that others have finally come around to our way of thinking!” And we can magnanimously bestow forgiveness on our former persecutors. But it will be a cheap forgiveness that has not cost us very much. We should avoid this temptation.
The opportunity is for these requests for forgiveness to become occasions for our own conversion as churches. The question is: How will we respond in ways that allow us to grow in faithfulness? Will we receive this invitation to think about our past and the divisions among Christians as a chance for honest self-examination?
We know that individuals are called to conversion, and that this is a life-long process. When one church asks another for forgiveness, we are reminded that churches, too, are in constant need of conversion. For what do our churches need to repent, especially with respect to the disunity of Christians?
It is significant that, while Catholics and Lutherans did put Anabaptists to death at the stake, Anabaptists did not do likewise. So when we Mennonites examine our own history, we will not have to ask Lutherans or Catholics for forgiveness for lethal violence.
But violence is not the only sin there is. The sins of division are many. What about actions that reflect self-righteousness or a lack of charity? Do we take pride in the view that the Anabaptist martyrs were “right,” while other so-called Christians were superstitious, violent or simply evil? Do we regard ourselves as “the church”? Do we still hear statements in our churches to the effect that Catholics aren’t really Christians? Or are we complacent about divisions between Christians, happy to let other denominations be the church in their own way, but fail to find ways to build relationships, learn from each other, work together in Christian witness and grow in unity?
We reinforce the logic of division at many levels, all contrary to Jesus’ prayer that his followers might be one (John 17:20-23). When we assume that Friesen and Martin are “Mennonite names,” while Armstrong and Kim are not, we create divisions within our own congregations.
When we disagree about theological or ethical matters, as is part of church life, do we condemn the “other side” as not being Mennonite or Christian?
To pick a provocative example, I am tempted to say that anyone who rejects pacifism cannot be a Mennonite. I ought to resist this temptation. Of course, I will try to persuade those in our churches who disagree that Christian discipleship entails Jesus’ way of peace, just as I seek to follow this way myself. But it makes all the difference whether I condemn them as outside the body of Christ, or seek to persuade them as members of the same church, bound together in Christ who is our peace (Ephesians 2:14). In fact, I want to convince not just Mennonites, but all Christians, of pacifism. How can we have this conversation as members of the same body?
Conversion means moving towards Christ
The fact that churches are in need of conversion is one of the great insights of the modern ecumenical movement. A second great insight is that churches grow closer to each other only as all move closer to Christ. The issue is not whether others have been converted to our way of thinking. What matters is that we all move closer to Christ, a journey that Mennonites must be on as well.
It is not a simple question to ask, “What does moving towards Christ mean?” It does not mean a lowest-common-denominator faith in which we leave aside our distinctive convictions. Quite the contrary, genuine fellowship with other Christians is the condition under which our beliefs about baptism and pacifism, for example, may be engaged by other Christians. It is also the condition within which we can be transformed by the distinctive witness of other Christian traditions.
I believe that the Mennonite movement is vital only to the extent that we have a witness to other Christians, and to the world, about just what it means to move ever closer to Christ. Our distinc-tives must only be in service of this end. We are faithful to the impulse to reform the entire church that motivated the early Anabaptists only if we engage with other Christians, not if we keep to ourselves.
Denominations that ask our forgiveness recognize that true fellowship requires an honest wrestling with the past and their part in the enmity among Christians. To determine our part requires self-reflection as well as dialogue. It requires hearing from the other and attempting to see history from the perspective of another. As we examine our own failings and acknowledge our own blind spots, we may open ourselves to receiving gifts—practices and convictions—from other Christian traditions. We may find that we have more to receive from Catholics, Lutherans or Pentecostals than we have to give in return.
Is the unity of the church really that important? I’m not suggesting that this is the only thing for which our churches need conversion, nor even necessarily the very top priority. However, the disunity of the church compromises the church’s witness that, in Christ, hostility is overcome.
In order to seek reconciliation, the Lutherans are compelled to wrestle with things they said and did 400 years ago. Why are they doing this? They are telling us this is important, and we should take note. That is already a gift to us.
Mennonite forgiveness given and received
We have some history of repenting for divisions within the body of Christ. Some will remember that a delegation of the Mennonite Brethren church made a poignant request for forgiveness at the Conference of Mennonites in Canada annual sessions in 1986. It asked forgiveness for those times when Mennonite Brethren members were excommunicated for marrying outside the denomination. Fewer may remember that, in 1960, the General Conference apologized for past words and actions towards the Mennonite Brethren.
At a 1983 service in Zurich, Switzerland, a Baptist-Mennonite delegation made a confession before God and leaders of the Reformed churches: “Instead of striving in brotherly fellowship for the unity of your body, we have withdrawn ourselves and given the impression of being better Christians. We have often lived in unjustified complacency, preferring to see the faults of others, rather than our own dire need for renewal.”
These are important examples of repentance, but a change of life must follow repentance. To repent means to turn around. The question is, “How does a church lives out its conversion?”
If the World Lutheran Federation asks our forgiveness in a solemn ceremony, I hope our response will be guided by the example of the Swiss Mennonite Conference, which responded to a request for forgiveness in 2004 from the Reformed Church of Zurich: “History may designate us as victims and could incite us to find satisfaction in that. . . . But the fact that you recognize the difficult points of your history in relation to ours helps us to see ourselves and to meet you differently.”
Will we see ourselves differently? Here is an occasion for conversion. The Swiss Mennonites acknowledged in their own history, “conformism, atrophy, withdrawal and pride.” If any of these apply to our churches, then how might we together undo such destructive patterns?
The Swiss Mennonites pledged to revisit their past. But dialogue and new relationships with Reformed Christians does not mean watering down our convictions or putting differences aside for the sake of just getting along. “We maintain, however, strong convictions . . . in particular to that which pertains to more ethical and ecclesiological questions, that we should like to see more widely shared throughout the body of Christ,” the Swiss Mennonites stated. “And we would like to engage in a longer dialogue concerning our church and theological traditions in order to reinforce our common witness to Jesus Christ and his gospel.”
Conversion is about not being in control, but radically turning to Christ in trust. We cannot, therefore, predict where conversion with respect to the disunity among Christians will lead us, but it will not simply confirm what we already think about ourselves as a Mennonite church. This will involve some difficult work of self-reflection, but also the joy of restored relationships within the body of Christ. The conversion of churches is not primarily about our identities as Mennonites or as Lutherans, but about being drawn together in new and unexpected ways with all who know their identity to be given by Jesus Christ.
Jeremy M. Bergen is an assistant professor of religious studies at Conrad Grebel University College, Waterloo, Ont., and is writing a book on the repentance of churches.