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  Historical Committee
Zurich
Reflections
By Franklin Yoder
On Saturday, June 26, I was privileged to attend a meeting of
reconciliation between Mennonites and the Reformed church of Zurich.
This meeting was held at the invitation of the Reformed church as part
of a celebration of the 500th year anniversary of the birth of Heinrich
Bullinger, an important leader in the early Reformed church. Bullinger
was head of the Zurich church from 1531 until 1575, and during this
period several Anabaptists were martyred or banished by the city of
Zurich with the encouragement of Reformed church leaders.
In that time, church and state were closely intertwined, and Bullinger
believed that the Anabaptists posed a very real threat to religious
institutions and to civil society. He, along with other church leaders,
encouraged the city council of Zurich to punish Anabaptists, and
between 1527 and 1614 seven Anabaptists were killed in Zurich. As
members of the present-day Reformed church of Zurich planned this
celebration of Bullinger’s birth, they decided to include a time of
reconciliation for acts they now believe were wrong.
Most of our meetings were held in the Grossmünster, a large
prominent church in which the Reformed church came into being under the
leadership of Ulrich Zwingli in the early 1520s. Zwingli was a powerful
Reformation figure who steered Zurich away from Catholicism and Martin
Luther toward a new brand of Protestantism that emphasized the
importance of biblical preaching, viewed communion as a symbol and not
a sacrament, and rejected the role of the mass and the Catholic clergy.
Zwingli resigned his position as a priest of the Catholic church and
asked the city council of Zurich to reinstate him under its authority,
which the council did in January 1523. This marked the beginning of the
Swiss Reformation; it was the first Protestant state church.
Among Zwingli’s followers were several young men who pushed for even
more radical reforms. Specifically, they said that only adults should
be baptized, various practices that were linked to older Catholic
traditions should be abandoned, and Zwingli should separate himself
from the Zurich city council and accelerate a program of reforms.
Zwingli refused and urged the city council to reject the radical steps
proposed by Conrad Grebel, Felix Manz, and others of the first group of
Anabaptists. When the city council did refuse, Grebel, Manz, Georg
Blaurock, and several others baptized each other in defiance of church
and city laws. Since these actions threatened the authority of the
church and the state, they were seen as treasonous and Anabaptists were
labeled heretics. Zwingli helped direct the proceedings that sentenced
Felix Manz to death. Manz was drowned in the Limmat River on January 5,
1527.
Ulrich Zwingli died in 1531 while fighting Catholic armies in Kappel,
Switzerland. After his death, Heinrich Bullinger became the new
Reformed leader, a position he held for the next 44 years. Like
Zwingli, he saw the Anabaptists as heretics and lawbreakers, and he
advocated punishing them for their action, a belief he acted upon.
The celebration commemorating Bullinger’s birth was largely
celebratory. Bullinger was a prolific writer and preacher, and he gave
critical leadership to a movement that was in its infancy. But the
planners noted that there was a dark side to this time, and at the
dedication of a plaque marking the death of Felix Manz and the other
martyrs we heard the words offered by Reudi Reich, president of the
Reformed church of canton of Zurich, acknowledging the “historic sin”
of the Reformed church in persecuting the Anabaptists (see the complete
text elsewhere in this issue).
I went to the Zurich not certain of what to expect. Personally, I had
never anguished over the fact that the Reformed church had played a
major part in Felix Manz’s execution. I harbored no ill-will toward
people who call themselves Reformed, and I was not sure how to be
reconciled to someone who had done me no wrong. But as I attended the
various events, I found the experience to be fulfilling and my
perspective broadened and changed.
Two things impressed me. First, being in Zurich and seeing the church
and its setting deepened my understanding of how and why the events of
1525 led to Manz’s death. There is no substitute for being at the place
where history has been made, and this was true for me.
An exhibit inside the Grossmünster told the story of Heinrich
Bullinger, and it helped explain why the Reformers saw people such as
Manz as serious threats. This was a turbulent time, and the Reformed
church and the city leaders in Zurich found themselves caught between
Catholics and Anabaptists. By leaving the Catholic church, Zwingli and
other reformers took a tremendous risk that placed their lives and the
lives of the citizens of Zurich in danger. When Manz, Grebel, and
others agitated for even more radical change, the threats came from the
opposite direction. In the minds of Zwingli, other Reformed leaders,
and members of the Zurich city government, the Anabaptists raised the
potential for anarchy and chaos. In order to stop this movement from
undermining an already fragile society, they felt they needed to make
an example to show the citizens of Zurich the consequences of
disobedience to the church.
Secondly, even though I did not feel a compelling need to be reconciled
to the Reformed church of Zurich, I found the event to be moving. It
was humbling to be told of the mistakes of others and to be asked to
accept the request of forgiveness. It is hard to know how to respond
when groups speak of forgiveness, reconciliation, and retribution for
wrongs committed centuries ago. In a sense, the appropriate time for
this to happen was many years earlier. Nonetheless, the words I heard
reminded me that wrongs can be addressed years later and can bring a
sense of healing.
A related question is whether there is meaning in one group of people
asking another group for forgiveness. No one from the Reformed church
who was at the meeting had persecuted any of the Mennonites who
attended. There are other movements today to make amends for wrongs
committed centuries ago, and I have always viewed these efforts with
uncertainty. I am not sure what my responsibility is for an action
committed by someone who lived in another time and place and to whom I
am connected only by nationality, religion, or race.
But as I watched and listened, I decided there can be value in such
requests. I was especially impressed with the expressions of regret and
statements of hope offered by representatives of the Reformed church.
They were taking their history seriously, and by not ignoring this
aspect of their past they showed an honesty and sense of responsibility
that I found refreshing and uplifting. The Reformed church may have
received the greatest benefit from this time, because asking for
forgiveness is more difficult and perhaps more meaningful than
accepting forgiveness.
By taking this action, the Reformed church recognized its connection to
the past. We are always quick to celebrate our triumphs and claim them
as our own, but too often we are less willing to acknowledge our
shortcomings and failures. The Reformed church accepted its failures
honestly and openly.
Part of me wondered if we as Anabaptists should also have apologized
for the actions of our spiritual ancestors. Our own histories have
mostly overlooked the chaos and disruption our Anabaptist forebears
brought to the society in which they lived. I do believe that killing
the Anabaptists was wrong, but I also see how their actions were at
times extreme and unhelpful. There is ample evidence that some early
Anabaptists operated with a sense of righteous indignation,
stubbornness, and arrogance that is characteristic of people who
believe they alone have an insight into God’s will. There are usually
two sides to every story, and that is the side of our history that we
speak of infrequently, if at all.
One lesson that comes from this time is that changing religious ideas
and practices is rarely smooth or easy. We look back on this time with
the benefit of almost 500 years of perspective and from the comfort of
a society that tolerates and accepts us. To us, the issues that set
people against each other in Zurich in 1525 seem distant and even odd.
But we should not forget that, to those who lived in those times, the
problems were very real and had far-reaching consequences. The Reformed
church of Zurich dealt with some of those consequences in June 2004,
and by so doing set an example we would do well to emulate.
Franklin
Yoder is an academic advisor at the University of Iowa and also teaches
courses in the history department. He is chair of the Mennonite Church
USA Historical Committee. He and his wife, Jane, are active members of
the Kalona (Iowa) Mennonite Church.
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Mennonite Historical
Bulletin
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Mission
Statement:
"God calls us to preserve our faith heritage, to interpret our stories,
and to proclaim God's work among us."
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