22 years in Bridgefolk:
John Klassen OSB reflects

By John Klassen OSB
Catholic co-chair of the board, 2002-2024

As a “grassroots dialogue” between Mennonites and Roman Catholics, Bridgefolk began in a classic Benedictine way. It started small. There were a number of creative energies behind it. In the first place there was an amazing group of 25 people who gathered at Laurelville Mennonite Church Center in Mount Pleasant, Pennsylvania in August 1999.

Some of these were couples in so-called “mixed marriages,” a Mennonite and a Catholic who had married. A number were persons who sought deepened spirituality or commitment to peacemaking in the other’s tradition. During the weekend, each person shared their story. Because of the striking differences between these two religious traditions, their stories carried grace as well as pain. No theologizing, no hypotheticals, simply speaking in the first person. When we speak of Bridgefolk as a grassroots dialogue, this is what we mean: close to the ground, close to human experience, but shot through with profound theological reflection and a deep love for the breadth and depth of these two traditions.

A second major impulse for Bridgefolk came from the success of the first international dialogue between Mennonites and Roman Catholics. Working across a five-year period (1998-2003), six Mennonite and six Roman Catholic leaders drafted and wrote a report named “Called Together to Be Peacemakers.” These were theologians, church historians, and scripture scholars, who listened deeply and well to each other. What distinguishes this work from almost all other ecumenical efforts within the Catholic environment is that no previous ecumenical work between Mennonites and Catholics had been done at the national level. The report itself is a fine piece of thoughtful work in that it faces significant differences in the interpretation of church history, the stance towards infant baptism, and the authorization of ministers within the respective church. The authors also pointed to further work that needed to be done, for example, a study of the violence against Mennonites throughout their history because of ecclesiology and their refusal to be drafted into an army.

A third crucial ingredient in the founding of Bridgefolk was the presence of a core group of passionate, committed leaders who were willing to invest time and energy to the evolution of this idea. These included Gerald Schlabach, Ivan and Lois Kauffman, Marlene and Stanley Kropf, Weldon Nisly, William Skudlarek, Margaret O’Gara, and myself. How to embody the work of peacemaking and the mutual exchange of gifts between Mennonites and Catholics in a way that grew out of those who came together? The group decided to start by hosting a summer conference at Saint John’s Abbey in 2002. There were many topics and speakers and we focused explicit attention to building relationships, simply building trust. This developed into a series of summer conferences that always included worship, praying and singing from both traditions, sharing the reading of Scripture, and giving space for informational questions.

After three summer conferences at Saint John’s, the leadership group was convinced that the fourth conference needed to be in a Mennonite setting. Eastern Mennonite University in Harrisonburg, VA, stepped forward to host the conference. This move began a pattern of alternating the conference between Catholic and Mennonite locations. This significant move embodied having a conversation between two real partners and giving each other a feel for each other’s unspoken and unarticulated traditions. Later on, the board invited a sister from Saint Benedict’s Monastery in Minnesota and the community has become a Catholic host for the conference (2012). Finally, in 2 0 13 we had our first conference hosted by Canadian Mennonites, at Conrad Grebel University College in Waterloo, Ontario.

As a Bridgefolk group we danced around the question of shared Eucharist for many years. At the outset of these comments, let me observe that there is no standard Catholic believer in Eucharist and probably no such Mennonite creature either. Eucharistic faith is deeply personal. However, there are significant differences between Catholics and Mennonites and the ritual by which we celebrate Eucharist. The Roman Catholic rite is well defined and structured; one can go across the Catholic world from country to country, in different languages, and encounter a fundamentally similar liturgical experience. Within Mennonite churches, even though there has been significant attention to liturgical renewal and retrieval within the communion, there is an enormous variation across local churches.

For two years running (2012-2013), we created a “double Eucharist,” with a unified Liturgy of the Word and Eucharistic prayer and institution narrative from each tradition. This liturgy required an enormous effort in its preparation and the gathered assembly also needed to be prepared for what was going to unfold. The first year we did this really well. The second year, not so well, because we had enough new participants who did not have the deep background for this liturgical expression and were left profoundly puzzled by the complexity. Like many good scientific experiments, this one failed, but we learned a lot from it!

As a result, the board charged Professor Mary Schertz and me to create a liturgical frame for foot washing. As is well known, in John’s gospel, chapter 13, where we would expect to find an account of Jesus handing the Eucharist to his disciples, instead he washed their feet. We created a Liturgy of the Word with opening prayers, and a major prayer modeled after a eucharistic prayer which includes an institution rite, an epiclesis, and anamnesis. Finally, we added an agape meal with formal prayers and scripture that echoed eucharistic language from the early centuries. We have found that this foot washing / agape rite has served us well as a body because we have freedom to choose preachers and presiders, men or women, from either tradition.

This experience of taking an existing rite and shaping it for our specific purposes brought us to a fundamental insight for the work of mutual exchange. In formal dialogues, there tends to be little formal prayer and liturgical experience because it is usually those elements that are contested and for which ecumenical agreement does not yet exist. As Bridgefolk, we found it essential to create and shape some existing liturgical experiences to help us celebrate our being together. For example, from the very beginning we sang hymns together, from both of our traditions. When we explored the meaning of the “communion of saints” we discovered that while we have a very different theology of intercession, both of our traditions have an overlap of reverence for martyrs in our respective church. Thus, we created a “litany of martyrs and holy ones,” which integrates men and women martyrs and which we routinely sing together at some stage of our conferences.

I must include some comments about Ivan and Lois Kauffman and their novel experiment in founding the Michael Sattler House at the edge of the property of Saint John’s Abbey. This unique experiment in offering hospitality to those who needed a place for prayer, resting, and gathering their wits was fittingly named after the Benedictine prior (second in command) of Saint Peter’s Abbey in Germany in the 16th century (1490-1527). Sattler left the community (1525) and became a theological leader in the early Anabaptist movement. He and his wife Margaretha were martyred in 1527. My minds reels at the collection of delightful ironies present in the witness of hospitality provided by Ivan and Lois in memory of Michael Sattler. I enjoyed many a rich conversation and refreshment in this place of encounter and nourishment.

While conferences in the first fifteen years or so focused on specific elements in our shared Christian tradition such as baptism, Eucharist, prayer and discipleship, and ordained ministry, especially as these relate to peacemaking, in the past four conferences we have focused our attention on the way we as specific Christian communities have responded to issues of social injustice such as the evil of racism and the thorny issues around land, settlers, and indigenous peoples. This focus is not without tension in relationship to Bridgefolk’s founding mission but as abbot of Saint John’s Abbey until January 7, 2024, I personally benefitted hugely from the presentations and discussions at all these conferences. Those who have been involved with Bridgefolk over the past twenty-two years would probably cite different key moments along the way.

This short essay is not meant to be a history but rather a reflective essay from an outgoing co-chair of the Bridgefolk board. My term as abbot overlapped the founding of this grassroots effort in what has indeed been an ecumenical exchange of gifts.

The late Pope Benedict XVI on the search for reconciliation by Anabaptists and Catholics

Johann Christoph Arnold and Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, Rome 1995

Following the death of Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, The Plough magazine re-released the transcript of a 1995 interview with the future pope, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger. The magazine is a ministry of the Bruderhof, a contemporary Hutterite Anabaptist community. Bruderhof elder Johann Christoph Arnold, met with Cardinal Ratzinger, for a conversation with a group of German Catholics. Excerpts and a link to the entire article follow.

In response to two accounts of Anabaptist martyrs, which Arnold had begun by reading:

What is truly moving in these stories is the depth of faith [of these men], their being deeply anchored in our Lord Jesus Christ, and their joy in this fact, a joy that is stronger than death. We are distressed, of course, by the fact that the church was so closely linked with the powers of the world that she was able to deliver other Christians to be executed because of their beliefs. This should be a deep challenge to us, how much we all need to repent again and again, and how much the church must renounce worldly principles and standards in order to accept the truth as the only standard, to look to Christ …

On the true path to Christian unity:

I think, too, that it is important [to realize] that we cannot bring about unity in the church by diplomatic maneuvers. The result would only be a diplomatic structure based on human principles. Instead, we must open ourselves more and more to him. The unity he brings about is alone true unity. Anything else is a political construction, which is as transitory as all political constructions are. This is the more difficult way, for in political maneuvers people themselves are active and believe they can achieve something. We must wait on the Lord, that he will give us unity, and of course we must go to meet him by cleansing our hearts. …

This is how I would see such a gathering, that we don’t try to negotiate how [Catholics and Anabaptists] can unite in the Catholic Church, but that together we allow the Lord to cleanse us and learn the truth from him, the truth that is love, and that we let him work so that he brings us together.

On the source of Christian unity:

As a Catholic one should wish that a Hutterite becomes a better Hutterite, and the other way around, a Hutterite can wish that a Catholic becomes a better Catholic, as long as one is convinced that in both cases it is the center that actually matters. To become fully Catholic means to enter fully into communion with Christ; if becoming fully Hutterite means the same thing, if it does not mean the canonization of relativism – each to his own – but on the contrary the deepest unity of truth, which is Christ himself. He is the source of the unity, and from this source it will go out into the world.

To read the entire article click here.

Why we “proceed through friendship”

It was 2003 and Bridgefolk had publicly launched, the summer before, with its first annual conference. Within our founding circle we were aware of the worldwide Sant’Egidio movement based in Rome. Sant’Egidio is a lay-led, Vatican-approved, “ecclesial movement” that has been active in peacemaking and solidarity with the poor since the 1960s. It gained international attention when it helped mediate an end to a 16-year civil war in Mozambique in 1992. As Mennonites and Catholics looking for models of how to combine the best of our traditions, Bridgefolk leaders felt great affinity for Sant’Egidio.

Following the Mozambique peace agreement, the Sant’Egidio community in Rome had sent a married couple, Paola Piscitelli and Andrea Bartoli, to New York to monitor United Nations compliance with the accord, while encouraging new Sant’Egidio chapters in the United States. When I learned that Andrea would be visiting my campus in Saint Paul, Minnesota, I jumped at a chance to meet him. We shared professional and vocational interests in international peacemaking, but what I really wanted to do was pick his brain about this hybrid ecclesiological category of “ecclesial movements” – officially recognized in the Catholic Church yet grassroots and participatory like Mennonites.

Footwashing at Bridgefolk conference — Gerald Schlabach (right) and Andrea Bartoli (left) wash one another’s feet at 2003 Bridgefolk conference.

“Proceed through friendship.” That was Andrea’s response. As we took a stroll around my university, I wanted to talk about canon law and historical precedents and ecclesiology. As a co-founder and then-co-chair of Bridgefolk, I hoped to map out some kind of master plan for Bridgefolk participants like me who wanted somehow to identify as both Mennonite and Catholic. Instead, simply, “Proceed through friendship.”

Andrea’s counsel reflected Sant’Egidio’s sense of its own charism or spiritual gift. The movement sees friendship as key to its own bridgebuilding through service to the poor, peace-building, and prayer (see here and here). In turn, both Andrea’s counsel and Sant’Egidio’s charism surely reflect the Italian culture in which Sant’Egidio was formed as well. Though he didn’t say so, I suspect that Andrea found my American preoccupation with planning and projects bemusing. Instead, he was gently nudging me toward a more relational – indeed a more organic – approach. As a theologian and Christian ethicist, I should have recognized this already; friends of mine have placed friendship at the very center of the Christian life.

After I shared Andrea’s counsel with other Bridgefolk leaders, “proceed through friendship” quickly became a motto of our own. We didn’t have to solve everything doctrinally or structurally. We weren’t going to anyway – that should have been obvious – but the motto helped us relax.

Theologians and practitioners of interreligious and ecumenical (or interchurch) dialogue emphasize that dialogue can and should happen in multiple ways. In the standard list of different types of interreligious dialogue, the “dialogue of theological exchange” is only one. “Dialogue of religious experience” happens as we share prayers, spiritual practices, and life stories without expectation of conversion. “Dialogue of action” happens as we work together for the common good through service, peacemaking, and mobilization for justice. And then there is the simple and basic “dialogue of everyday life” in which people of different faiths learn to know and trust one another as neighbors. And friends. The counsel to proceed through friendship has guided Bridgefolk intuitively into all four forms of dialogue.

This is not to say that Bridgefolk has achieved nothing more concrete than warm fuzzies and good vibes. Through the Mennonite-Catholic Theological Colloquium, Bridgefolk offered resources to the international bilateral dialogue between representatives of Mennonite World Conference and the Vatican’s Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity – then helped disseminate its findings. Even while strengthen friendships, Bridgefolk’s annual conferences have explored tough issues, from obstacles to sharing Eucharist to racial injustice and land reparation. Some of these have led to real breakthroughs, as with Bridgefolk’s development of a Mennonite-Catholic liturgy of footwashing to celebrate the unity we have come to experience despite obstacles to intercommunion. A case could be made that Bridgefolk has been freer to contribute creatively both to the international dialogue between Mennonites and Catholics, and to the wider ecumenical movement, precisely because it has depended on friendship not on an official mandate.

Friendship can devolve into insularity and cliquishness, of course. As the Bridgefolk movement moves into its third decade, this is a danger that will require self-awareness to avoid. When old friends at a party greet each other with warm bear hugs, they do well to keep their eyes open for newcomers hanging back shyly in the corners and draw them into conversation too. When conversation turns to reminiscing, old friends should work backstories into their stories, in order to initiate rather than exclude.

When a “friend group” is mindful of such dangers, however, friendship can remain invitational. Indeed, in a break-out session at Bridgefolk’s most recent conference, the moderator asked how participants had gotten involved in the movement, and many said that a friend had simply invited them. So long as the accent in “proceed through friendship” is as much on invitation to interested newcomers as on old timers sharing old times, friendship can be its own antidote to insularity.

Over the years, proceeding through friendship has been a way for Bridgefolk to expand its network more through word of mouth than through marketing itself. The 20-year history of Bridgefolk has coincided with the rise of social media as a way to maintain virtual communities and friendships – insofar as any virtual friendship can really be deep and authentic. Like many movements and organizations Bridgefolk has made use of social media as a tool to stay connected. But we have not depended on social media to advertise ourselves and grow thereby. Given all the toxicity that has gotten baked into social media over the last 20 years – religious social media as much as political – that may be for the best.

Some of us in Bridgefolk still dream of a day when it might be possible to find a canonical model like “ecclesial movement” that would make it possible to formally identify simultaneously as Mennonite and Catholic. Many of us long for a day when some form of intercommunion or Eucharistic recognition becomes possible. Even if such hopes only ever find fulfillment beyond our lifetimes, we can hope to be preparing the way now.

But ecclesial movements, like religious orders, only have reason to exist if they embody and channel a charism – a spiritual gift that God has called them to share in a particular way. In friendship, Sant’Egidio was willing to share its charism of friendship with Bridgefolk. So whatever else comes from Bridgefolk’s own way of proceeding through friendship, we will hold on to our own charism in the only way that anyone holds on to God’s gifts – by sharing and them giving away.

Gerald W. Schlabach

September 2022