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Church Chat [Ecclesiology]

Ecclesiology of the Reformers (5): Menno Simons

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Menno Simons, had he foreseen it, would have been dumbfounded: today there are about 1.7 million people who belong to churches that bear his name. (He would have been doubly disoriented by the discovery that over 96% of them do not live in Europe!) As one of these Mennonites,  I have good reason to be curious about what Menno Simons believed about the Church.

This post continues our series on the ecclesiology of the Reformers, quoting from Timothy George’s excellent book, Theology of the Reformers. (See past posts about the ecclesiologies of Luther, Zwingli , and Calvin. See also the introduction to this series, and stay tuned for William Tyndale and my conclusions and questions.)

Perhaps because I have personal stake in the quest, I have found this the hardest post yet to prepare for this series. I’ve had to cut out so much intriguing information! To manage length somewhat, I will focus on one theme in Menno Simon’s ecclesiology: the purity of the Church. Along the way, I’ll note other themes also worth exploring.

First, I’ll let Timothy George introduce the Radical Reformation:

The Radical Reformation…, was not merely a “wing,” a side effect that revealed a more extreme form of the Reformation; it was instead a movement that gave birth to a new form of Christian faith and life. As one scholar put it, it was a “reformation of the Reformation” or “a correction of the correction of Catholicism.”1 Precisely this, together with the fact that for the most part the radicals were forced to develop their model of the Christian life outside the confines of the official churches, gave their spirituality and church life a distinctive cast. (Kindle Locations 5827-5831)

George identifies three branches of the Radical Reformation–the Anabaptists, the Spiritualists, and the Evangelical Rationalists.

Each branch of the Radical Reformation attached itself to a distinctive “root.” For the Anabaptists it was the Bible, especially the New Testament. They desired not merely to reform the church but to restore it to its pristine, apostolic purity. (Kindle Locations 5820-5822, emphasis added)

Menno’s early life and education were formative, but let’s leap ahead: What drove Menno Simons from being a Roman Catholic priest to becoming “the most outstanding leader” (George) of the Anabaptists?

Three important clusters of events and ideas are in Menno’s developing consciousness of the true church and his role in it… In 1525, the year that Grebel and Mantz were organizing the first Anabaptist congregations in Switzerland, Menno began to entertain doubts about the dogma of transubstantiation. “It occurred to me, as often as I handled the bread and wine in the mass, that they were not the flesh and blood of the Lord.” (Kindle Locations 5887-5894, emphasis added)

Menno might have quietly remained within the Roman fold had he not come to question another pillar of the established tradition, infant baptism… On March 20, 1531…, an itinerant tailor named Sicke Freerks was beheaded because he had been baptized a second time. Menno later commented, “It sounded very strange in my ears that one spoke of a second baptism.” …He began to investigate the basis for infant baptism. He examined the arguments of Luther, Bucer, Zwingli, and Bullinger but found them all lacking… Finally, he “searched the Scriptures diligently and considered the question seriously but could find nothing about infant baptism.” (Kindle Locations 5908-5917, emphasis added)

Possessed of new convictions on the Lord’s Supper and baptism, Menno nonetheless did not break with the Roman Church until he was deeply stirred by events surrounding the… violent, revolutionary kingdom of the two Jans at Münster… On March 30, 1535, a group of some three hundred violent Anabaptists captured the Old Cloister near Bolsward… On April 7 the cloister was retaken and the radicals savagely slain. Among them was Menno’s brother…

After this had transpired the blood of these people, although misled, fell so hot on my heart that I could not stand it, nor find rest in my soul… I saw that these zealous children, although in error, willingly gave their lives and their estates for their doctrine and faith. And I was one of those who disclosed to some of them the abominations of the papal system… I thought to myself—I, miserable man, what am I doing? If I continue in this way, and do not live agreeably to the Word of the Lord, according to the knowledge of the truth which I have obtained; if I do not censure to the best of my little talent the hypocrisy, the impenitent, carnal life, the erroneous baptism, the Lord’s Supper in the false service of God which the learned ones teach; if I through bodily fear do not lay bare the foundations of the truth, nor use all my powers to direct the wandering flock who would gladly do their duty if they knew it, to the true pastures of Christ—oh, how shall their shed blood, shed in the midst of transgression rise against me at the judgment of the Almighty and pronounce sentence against my poor, miserable soul! (Kindle Locations 5920-5936, emphasis added)

Let me draw two observations from this description. First, note the centrality of the Scriptures for Menno. They are, he realized, the ultimate guide both for discerning truth and for living rightly. Second, note Menno’s self-identity as a teacher. He was a teacher before he became an Anabaptist, and when he finally decided to become one, his decision was sealed by his sense that the Anabaptists needed a pastor-teacher “to direct the wandering flock… to the true pastures of Christ.”

Menno… felt a special compassion for the “poor misguided sheep” who wandered about without a shepherd. About a year after he had left the comfortable parish at Witmarsum to become an itinerant underground evangelist, …Anabaptist brethren near Groningen entreated him to accept the office of elder or chief shepherd of the brotherhood. After a time of struggling with this decision , he consented and so began “to teach and to baptize, to labor with my limited talents in the harvest field of the Lord, to assist in building up his holy city and temple and to repair the dilapidated walls.” Having been baptized earlier, Menno was now duly ordained… (Kindle Locations 5950-5956)

Menno Simons is reported to have said, …that nothing on earth was as precious to him as the church. For twenty-five years he labored throughout the Netherlands and northern Germany to establish fellowships of believers into organized congregations committed to one another and to their mission in the world. (Kindle Locations 6385-6387)

Most of those years were spent on the run for his life. And somehow, while on the run with his family, Menno wrote.

…Menno’s theology was situational; it emerged in the context of his active involvement in the life of the church… Menno never had the leisure to produce learned tomes or to develop a systematic theology. Yet he wrote with vigor and insight, drawing both on the earlier Anabaptist heritage and the wider Christian tradition but primarily on his own intensive engagement with the Scriptures. (Kindle Locations 5981-5984)

In Menno’s writing, as in his speaking, he was a teacher of the Church:

In 1540 Menno published what was to become his most influential writing…The Foundation of Christian Doctrine. In some ways this treatise is comparable to the first edition of Calvin’s Institutes, published only four years earlier. It was at once a tract for the times and a sort of catechetical instruction for new believers. (Kindle Locations 5986-5989)

The Foundation was an apology for those Anabaptists who chose the way of the cross over that of the sword… Menno’s book had little if any impact on the rulers, who continued their unabated assault against all Anabaptists. Its real influence was on the believers, who found in it a succinct summary of Anabaptist theology and churchmanship. (Kindle Locations 5998-6002)

Menno’s beliefs about the purity of the true Church were shaped by his understanding of conversion:

As long ago as 1848, the historian Max Göbel recognized that “the essential and distinguishing characteristic of this [Anabaptist] church is its great emphasis upon the actual personal conversion and regeneration of every Christian through the Holy Spirit.”2 Although Luther described himself as “born again,” and both Zwingli and Calvin commented on Jesus’ words to Nicodemus, Menno placed the greatest emphasis on the necessity for the new birth: “If now you desire to have your wicked nature cleared up, and desire to be free from eternal death and damnation . . . then you must be born again.” (Kindle Locations 6029-6034)

Conversion involved both faith and repentance:

Faith was the inward appropriation of the gospel, which Menno defined as “the blessed announcement of the favor and grace of God to us, and of forgiveness of sins through Christ Jesus.” (Kindle Locations 6034-6036)

God radically transforms such a believing heart! But faith

was incomplete without the prior act of repentance… It will not “help a fig,” he averred, to be called Christians or boast of the Lord’s blood, death, merits, grace, and gospel, as long as believers were not genuinely converted from their wicked, sinful lives. (Kindle Locations 6044-6048)

If believers had the faith of penitent Zacchaeus , Menno claimed, then… “There would soon be a different and better situation because, it cannot fail, the righteous must live his faith.” (Kindle Locations 6059-6062, emphasis added)

Much could be said here about how Menno’s understanding of Scripture shaped his theology and ecclesiology. For example, his “severe pruning of the liturgical tradition of the church was based on a strict application of the principle that what the Bible does not expressly enjoin should not be permitted” (Kindle Locations 6169-6171).

It is significant that Menno quoted more from the New Testament than the Old at a ratio of 3:1… The thrust of the whole Scripture is to direct us to Christ… According to Menno, Jesus Christ really did bring something new. (Kindle Locations 6210-6213)

Thus Menno rejected the mainline reformer’s use of the Old Testament to justify infant baptism and church-state relationships.

Such topics are familiar to most amateur students of Anabaptism. But fewer people are aware of another theological topic that shaped Menno’s understanding of the church:

Menno obviously felt that his doctrine of the incarnation was worth defending in large treatises as he devoted more attention to it than to any other doctrinal concern… Menno could not allow that Christ received his human nature from Mary, else he would have been tainted with the Adamic sin that is common to all his descendants. (Kindle Locations 6325-6330, emphasis added)

More could be said here about Menno’s understanding of Adamic sin (he did not actually believe we are held guilty because of it) or of Roman Catholic and Reformed explanations for Christ’s sinlessness.

Menno set aside both of these explanations: The former elevated Mary to the status of a divine goddess, the latter split Christ into two parts, destroying the unity of his person. Menno sought to resolve the problem by pointing to the celestial origin of Christ’s entire being: “The entire Christ Jesus, both God and man, man and God, has his origin in heaven and not on earth.” (Kindle Locations 6335-6340, emphasis added)

[Menno’s] opponents… accused him of teaching a docetic Christology, the ancient heresy that Christ only appeared or seemed to be human… However…, Menno had no intention of denying the true humanity of Christ… He asserted that Christ “was truly human and not a mere phantasm… He was afflicted, hungry, thirsty, subject to suffering and death, according to the flesh.” Menno’s concern was to show how Christ remained unsullied from original sin, able to offer a perfect sacrifice on the cross for the sins of the world. (Kindle Locations 6355-6364, emphasis added)

Many Anabaptists in Menno’s own time, and most since, have rejected Menno’s understanding of the incarnation. So why is it worth mentioning in this post about ecclesiology?

…During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries Menno’s doctrine had important soteriological and ecclesiological implications for Dutch Anabaptism. The crucial importance of the new birth depends on the incarnation through which believers are made partakers of the divine nature. Menno’s concept of the church as a community without spot or wrinkle, feasting at Communion on the heavenly “manna” that Jesus identified with his body (John 6:51), is also related to the miracle of the incarnation. (Kindle Locations 6374-6381, emphasis added)

If true believers share in Christ’s pure divine nature, then purity, surely, is a distinguishing mark of the true Church. Menno’s words:

They verily are not the true congregation of Christ who merely boast of his name. But they are the true congregation of Christ who are truly converted, who are born from above of God, who are of a regenerate mind by the operation of the Holy Spirit through the hearing of the divine Word, and have become the children of God, have entered into obedience to him, and live unblamably in his holy commandments, and according to his holy will with all their days, or from the moment of their call. (Kindle Locations 6390-6394, emphasis added)

Thus, with the other Anabaptists, Menno wanted to restore the Church, not merely reform it:

Unlike Luther, Zwingli, and Calvin, who wanted to reform the church on the basis of the Word of God, the radical reformers were more concerned to restore the primitive church, which they believed had “fallen” or apostatized… New wine could not be stored in old wineskins. Rather the New Testament church had to be restored “according to the true apostolic rule and criterion.” (Kindle Locations 6418-6422)

Doctrinal and ethical purity marked the truth Church:

Menno’s favorite word for the church was Gemeente (cf. Gemeinde), by which he designated the living fellowship or community of believers, the true communion of saints. In his Reply to Gellius Faber Menno listed the following six characteristics by which the church is known: (1) an unadulterated, pure doctrine; (2) scriptural use of the sacramental signs; (3) obedience to the Word; (4) unfeigned, brotherly love; (5) a bold confession of God and Christ; (6) oppression and tribulation for the sake of the Lord’s Word. It is significant that four of these six marks of the church are concerned with the ethical and moral dimensions of the Christian life. (Kindle Locations 6431-6436, emphasis added)

Menno’s understandings of baptism and the Lord’s Supper also featured this focus on purity. George summarizes Menno’s doctrine of baptism in three affirmations. Here is the third:

Baptism is the public initiation of the believer into a life of radical discipleship... For Menno baptism signaled a response of obedience to the gospel, a literal imitation and initiation taken by a novice upon his entrance to the monastic order. In the monastic tradition, such a vow implied a radical break with one’s past life and the assumption of a new identity within the community, symbolized by the receiving of a new name and investiture in new garments. Baptism among the Anabaptists was symbolic of a similar radical change in identity and lifestyle. (Kindle Locations 6475-6485)

In his Foundation Menno discusses four affirmations about the Lord’s Supper. Here is George’s description of the fourth:

…The Supper was the Communion of the body and blood of Christ… With connotations of the heavenly flesh of Christ, Menno declared that in Communion Christians were made “flesh of his flesh, bone of his bone.” (Kindle Locations 6545-6550)

Menno’s emphasis on the purity of the church was related directly to his “celestial flesh” Christology and to his view of the Supper as a marriage feast or fellowship meal with the sinless Christ. As Adam had but one Eve, and Isaac but one Rebecca, and even as Christ had but one body

which was heavenly and from heaven, and was righteous and holy in all its members, so also he has but one Eve in the Spirit, but one new Rebecca, who is his spiritual body, spouse, church, bride, namely, those who are believers, the regenerate, the meek, merciful, mortified, righteous, peaceable, lovely, and obedient children in the kingdom and house of his peace; pure, chaste virgins in the spirit, holy souls, who are of his divine family and holy flesh of his flesh, and bone of his bone. (Kindle Locations 6585-6591, emphasis added)

If–as all the Reformers agreed–the sacraments form the boundaries of the Church, and if it is also true–as Menno emphasized–that personal and corporate purity are intrinsic to the sacraments, then the true Church must practice church discipline.

Despite the differences among themselves, Luther, Zwingli, and Calvin agreed on two essential marks or characteristics (notae) of the true church: the correct preaching of the Word and the proper administration of the sacraments… The Anabaptists, on the other hand, insisted that discipline, carried out in accordance with the instruction of Jesus in Matt 18:15–18, was an indispensable mark of the true church… (Kindle Locations 6568-6573)

Menno wrote three treatises on the subject of church discipline.

So prominent did the role of excommunication become in the Dutch Anabaptist tradition that one historian has dubbed the entire movement as “Anabanism.”3 …In his later years Menno regarded the strict practice of discipline as one of the features that distinguished the peaceful Anabaptists from their violence-prone rivals: “It is more than evident that if we had not been zealous in this matter these days, we would be considered and called by every man the companions of the sect of Münster and all perverted sects.” (Kindle Locations 6579-6584)

Church discipline was essential, especially for a church without the governing “help” of magistrates. But it was also a point of great controversy among the Anabaptists. For example, should a wife sleep with her husband if he was under church discipline? Answers varied.

…The formal ban was, at least in theory, only a social confirmation of a severance from Christ that had already occurred in the heart of the unrepentant member:

No one is excommunicated or expelled by us from the communion of the brethren but those who have already separated and expelled themselves from Christ’s communion either by false doctrine or improper conduct. For we do not want to expel any, but rather to receive; not to amputate, but rather to heal; not to discard, but rather to win back; not to grieve, but rather to comfort; not to condemn, but rather to save.

The pastoral tone of this statement, which comes from Menno’s Admonition on Church Discipline (1541), was in fact often betrayed by the vindictive and harsh recriminations often involved in the shunning of expelled members. (Kindle Locations 6600-6607)

I don’t have time or space to reflect deeply here on this issue of the purity of the Church. It was a burning issue in Menno’s day, and it remains a burning one today. On the one hand, I resonate deeply with the Anabaptist insistence that Christ’s grace transforms individuals! I also heartily affirm their rejection of corpus christianum and their insistence on a believers’ Church.

That said, it is no secret that even Menno was distressed in his latter days by harsh applications of church discipline and the resulting church divisions. (Listen here to a fascinating talk by Chester Weaver which contrasts this Dutch Anabaptist experience with the Swiss Brethren emphasis on brotherly love.) Perhaps the strongest warning I would sound today is that it is deadly to retain the Anabaptist emphasis on the purity of the church while also forgetting Menno’s clear teaching about the gospel of grace and the regenerating power of the Spirit.

Let me end with three more quotes from George–one summarizing what we’ve already discussed, and two introducing more of Menno’s marks of the church:

Faced with persecution and hostility from without, the Anabaptist churches were especially on guard against corruption or laxity from within. Membership in an Anabaptist church was neither casual nor assumed; participation was perforce hearty and vigorous. A true, visible church was at once a rebaptized company of gathered saints, separated from the world in its autonomous polity and eschewal of all violent connections, and a squad of spiritual shock troops separating back to the world through congregational discipline those members whose lives betrayed their profession. (Kindle Locations 6622-6626)

Another mark of the Church:

Perhaps more so than with most other Christian groups, it is difficult to separate the ecclesiology of the Anabaptists from their ethics. Menno felt that genuine compassion for the poor was one of the marks that distinguished his movement from that of the mainline reformers. He criticized the “easygoing gospel and barren bread-breaking” of the established clergy who lived in luxury while their poor members begged for food, and the old, lame, blind, and suffering ones were shunted. (Kindle Locations 6780-6783, emphasis added)

And one final mark of the true Church:

Menno… believed the true church of Christ was characterized by the fact that it suffers and endures persecution but does not inflict persecution upon anyone. The gospel was to be preached to everyone, but no one was to be compelled by force to accept it. These principles are accepted as axiomatic by large segments of modern society. Yet we should not forget that they were first enunciated at great risk by the early Anabaptists. (Kindle Locations 6794-6797. B&H Publishing Group. Kindle Edition. Emphasis added)

(Next up: the ecclesiology of William Tyndale.)

What did you learn from these excerpts of Timothy George’s survey of Menno’s ecclesiology? What do you think we should learn from Menno today? What are the strengths and weaknesses of our early Mennonite ecclesiological DNA? Share your insights and questions in the comments below. Thank you!

PS: If you are enjoying this series, be sure to buy Timothy George’s book! He has much more to say than what I am sharing here. (Disclosure: The link above is an Amazon affiliate link, so I’ll make pennies if you buy the book.)

  1. J. A. Oosterbaan, “The Reformation of the Reformation: Fundamentals of Anabaptist Theology,” MQR 51 (1977): 176. ↩
  2. Max Göbel, Geschichte des Christlichen Leben (Coblenz, 1848), 37. ↩
  3. George H. Williams, The Radical Reformation, (Kirksville, MO: Sixteenth Century Journal Publishers, 1992), 485. ↩
Church Chat [Ecclesiology]

Ecclesiology of the Reformers (3): Huldrych Zwingli

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Huldrych Zwingli is not as famous as his German peer (Luther) or his French successor (Calvin), but his influence on the Anabaptist tradition is at least as direct. It was under Zwingli’s teaching in Zurich, Switzerland, that the first Swiss Brethren developed the convictions that earned them the name Anabaptist. For this reason alone, Zwingli is worth our reflective attention. Add to this Zwingli’s exceptional skill and dedication as a Bible expositor, and we are wise to join Conrad Grebel and Felix Manz for a time as his students.

This post continues our series on the ecclesiology of the Reformers, quoting from Timothy George’s excellent book, Theology of the Reformers. While George surveys a wide range of themes, I am focusing on the subtopic of ecclesiology (theology of the church). Even within this topic I am limiting myself to quotes that I find especially fascinating or significant as I refine my own understandings about the Church. (For the introduction to this series, go here. For the ecclesiology of Martin Luther, go here. For the rest of my posts in this series, go here: John Calvin, Menno Simons, William Tyndale, and my conclusions and questions.)

Here, then, is Timothy George on Zwingli:

Zwingli memorized in Greek all of the Pauline Epistles, having copied them down word for word. This spadework would later bear fruit in Zwingli’s powerful expository preaching and biblical exegesis. (Kindle Locations 2560-2562)

On this date [January 1, 1519] the new pastor shocked his congregation by announcing his intention to dispense with the traditional lectionary. Instead of “canned” sermons, Zwingli would preach straight through the Gospel of Matthew , beginning with the genealogy in chapter 1. Matthew was followed by Acts, then the Epistles to Timothy, then Galatians, 1 and 2 Peter, and so on until by 1525 he had worked his way through the New Testament and then turned to the Old. (Kindle Locations 2568-2572)

How amazing it must have been to sit under such preaching for the first time! While our own sermons today could benefit greatly from frequent imitation of Zwingli’s expository approach, I think it is easy to underestimate the novelty of Zwingli’s preaching in his day. In many of our own churches we hear more topical sermons than expositional ones. Sometimes these topical sermons are more like a random collection of leftovers than a well-designed meal. But even our topical sermons, like our unsystematic theologies, are indirectly the offspring of Bible exposition and careful theological reflection done in generations past. To have heard the Bible expounded directly and sequentially in this manner for the first time must have been exhilarating–a bit like a going hang gliding for the first time, with nothing but unfamiliar air currents (Scripture) to hold you up.

Even for Zwingli this must have been an exhilarating adventure. (I read that most of his sermons were delivered extemporaneously.) On the one hand we have the astounding fact that he had memorized the entire NT in Greek. On the other hand, Zwingli himself was learning as he preached his way through the NT–and learning without the benefit of a trusted theological tradition to guide him. We should not be surprised, given Zwingli’s mix of keen sight and lack of map, to find in his writings both brilliant observations and, at times, tentative or premature conclusions.

Two events mark his break with Rome and his public adherence to the Protestant cause. In late 1520 he renounced the papal pension he had been receiving for several years. Two years later, on October 10, 1522 , he resigned his office as “people’s priest” of Zurich, whereupon the city council promptly hired him as preacher to the entire city. Zwingli was now in a position to press for an official reformation in Zurich. (Kindle Locations 2597-2600)

I include the above quote because it shows that Zwingli’s ecclesiology began where it ended: arm-in-arm with the state. It seems Zwingli couldn’t imagine (or didn’t want to) a church that was not working in partnership with the state.

Zurich lay within the jurisdiction of the bishop of Constance, who regarded Zwingli’s strident preaching with growing alarm. The fear of schism was on his mind when he warned the Zurichers to maintain “the unity of the Church, without which there can be no Gospel; Christ is one, and the Church is one.” To this admonition Zwingli replied with his Apologeticus Archeteles (“ my first and last defense”). At points he sounded almost flippant. Is he accused of not listening to the bishops? “Nothing is easier, since they say nothing.” As for the charge of abandoning Holy Mother Church, he called on his opponents themselves “to leave the asses and come over to the oxen, abandon the goats for the sheep.” (Kindle Locations 2611-2616)

The above quote is perplexing, because I find myself initially liking the words of the bishop of Constance more than the words of Zwingli. On one level my reaction is just a distaste for the vulgar language that was employed by most religious combatants in the sixteenth century. On another level, 500 years after the Reformation it is easy to see the high cost of the Church being fractured into thousands of shards. I might not say that “there can be no Gospel” without “the unity of the Church.” But I do think that the disunity of the Church has tarnished the gospel in the eyes of millions. And I definitely affirm that–despite the Reformation!–“Christ is one, and the Church is one.” Yet, if I had to choose between the Roman Catholic mass of 1500 and the preaching of Zwingli… I have little doubt about my choice.

When Zwingli’s Roman Catholic opponents refused to engage in debate with him, saying that a city like Zurich was not an appropriate venue for resolving theological matters, Zwingli disagreed:

Zwingli responded , “I say that here in this room is without doubt a Christian assembly; there is no reason why we should not discuss these matters, speak and decide the truth.” This was a remarkable claim. Zwingli regarded this assembly not merely as a special session of the town council but as an evangelical synod on a par with a general council of the church universal, fully competent to pronounce authoritatively on matters of faith and worship. (Kindle Locations 2629-2632)

I think we see here something of Zwingli’s Swiss nationalism. He was very willing to cut ties with the Roman hierarchy. Yet he was equally willing to walk arm-in-arm with the local city council, even calling it an “assembly”–an echo perhaps of the NT word ἐκκλησίας, which means “assembly,” though often translated church.

The city council was on Zwingli’s side, so the First Zurich Disputation ended in his favor:

In the afternoon session the councilmen delivered their verdict: Master Zwingli could “continue and keep on as before to proclaim the holy Gospel and the correct divine Scriptures with the spirit of God in accordance with his capabilities .” …Zurich became “the first Protestant state by magisterial initiative.” (Kindle Locations 2635-2639)

I strongly disagree with Zwingli’s linking of church and state, but I fully affirm Zwingli’s core definition of the Church as presented here:

[As with Luther and Calvin, in Zwingli’s theology] the church is seen as the company of those who truly belong to God by faith: “All who dwell in the head are members and children of God, and that is the church or communion of the saints , the bride of Christ, Ecclesia catholica.” (Kindle Locations 2695-2697)

“All who dwell in the head are members”; this is clear and biblical thinking. On the other hand, while I, too, want to “let God be God,” I confess I find Zwingli’s stretching of Christ’s redeeming activity to be, well, somewhat stretching:

Zwingli held that even among those who had never heard the gospel, those who lived outside the chronological or geographical bounds of salvation history, God chose some. They were future neighbors in heaven—not only the Old Testament worthies but “Hercules too and Theseus , Socrates, Aristides, Antigonus, Numa, Camillus, the Catos and Scipios,” indeed every pious heart and believing soul from the beginning of the world. (Kindle Locations 2771-2773)

In accordance with John 14:6, which he often cited, Zwingli insisted that no one could come to the Father except through Christ who is “the way, the truth, and the life.” He refused, however, to limit the scope of Christ’s redeeming activity to the circumference of the visible church. This was his own way of saying, “Let God be God.” (Kindle Locations 2789-2791)

Socrates in heaven? And can one really be saved without being part of the Church (contra Luther)? First, according to George, Zwingli did not say that such “pious hearts” are outside the Ecclesia catholica (the universal Church), but outside the visible church. Perhaps he thought one could be part of the Church without being part of the church? Second, I want to affirm the NT insistence on the urgency of proclaiming, hearing, and believing the gospel, without pretending to fully understand how God will judge those who have heard less than we have. The NT says little about the latter, but much about the former.

Zwingli was much more radical than Luther in trying to prune from church life those ceremonial rites and religious accoutrements that were the mainstay of medieval piety. Thoughtless prayers, prescribed fasts, the bleached cowls and carefully shaved heads of the monks, holy days, incense, the burning of candles, the sprinkling of holy water, nuns’ prayers, priests’ chatter, vigils, masses, and matins—this “whole rubbish-heap of ceremonials” amounted to nothing but “tomfoolery.” To depend upon them at all for salvation was like “placing iceblocks upon iceblocks.” (Kindle Locations 2887-2891)

Amen! Let us listen and apply in our own churches. And yet…

Why was Zwingli so sternly opposed to images and other forms of ceremonial piety? …First, the principle of scriptural authority relativized all extrabiblical practices. This is clearly expressed in the second of the Ten Conclusions of Bern (1528): “The Church of Christ makes no laws or commandments apart from the Word of God; hence all human traditions are not binding upon us except so far as they are grounded upon or prescribed in the Word of God.” In general, the Lutheran tradition has willingly retained in its worship those practices and customs not directly prohibited by Scripture. The Reformed tradition, following Zwingli, has tended to eliminate what is not expressly commanded in Scripture. (Kindle Locations 2898-2903)

Amen again! At least until the last two sentences.

I am eager to see the Church freed from all merely human traditions that are bound upon us as inflexible commandments, for they repeatedly make the word of God of none effect (Mark 7:9-13). But shall we insist that we must eliminate from our churches all freely-chosen practices that are not expressly commanded in Scripture? Here I confess that I disagree with Zwingli–and with Conrad Grebel, who even forbade singing in church on this basis–and agree with Luther, who commissioned and composed church music and prepared the way for his great Lutheran offspring, J.S. Bach.

(Grebel wrote: “Paul very clearly forbids singing in Eph. 5:19 and Col. 3:16 since he says and teaches that they are to speak to one another and teach one another with psalms and spiritual songs, and if anyone would sing, he should sing and give thanks in his heart… Whatever we are not taught by clear passages or examples must be regarded as forbidden, just as if it were written: ‘This do not; sing not.'” — From “Letter to Thomas Müntzer,” Sept. 5, 1524, Spiritual and Anabaptist Writers, ed. George H. Williams and Angel M. Mergal [Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1957], page 75.)

Back to Timothy George:

In Zurich, perhaps more than in any of the other Reformed cities, church and civic community were one indivisible body, governed by the spiritual and secular officers who both accepted the principle of scriptural authority as the basis of their joint governance… Zwingli saw no problem in this sort of cooperation between church and state. In a famous statement written shortly before his death he said, “The Christian man is nothing else but a faithful and good citizen and the Christian city nothing other than the Christian church.” (Kindle Locations 2947-2953)

Church and state were related as soul and body, distinct yet necessarily conjoined and interdependent. More than any other reformer, Zwingli reacted against the clerical supremacy of the medieval church . The error of the Roman Antichrist had been to set himself above princes and kings. Zwingli believed the Bible taught (Exod 4:16) that priests were to be subordinate to the magistrates. Zwingli’s message required a leveling of the sacred and the secular and a vision of reform that embraced both minister and magistrate as coservants of the Word of God. That “the kingdom of Christ is also external” meant that no dimension of human existence could be excluded from the claims and promises of the gospel. (Kindle Locations 2995-3000)

Here again, I think, we see a mixture of motives in play–probably some Swiss nationalism, combined with a laudatory vision how Christ’s kingdom reaches into both sacred and secular arenas, combined with a failure to understand that the kingdom of Christ is not served when its servants wield the sword of the state. Paul did teach us to pray for civil authorities, so that civil peace might assist the spread of the gospel (1 Tim. 2:1-4). But to effectively equate the “Christian city” and the “Christian church” goes far beyond anything the apostles envisioned.

(It would be interesting here to compare how Luther’s vision of two kingdoms contrasts with Zwingli’s pairing of church and state–and then to tease out how such apparently different theological starting points could lead them both to become magisterial Reformers with state churches. But I am not wise enough for the task!)

The next set of quotes describes the link between Zwingli’s defense of infant baptism and his concept of the church:

Zwingli believed that baptism was not primarily for the sake of the one who received it; it was, rather, a guaranty for those who witnessed it. Its purpose was to inform the whole church rather than one’s self of the faith that had been inwardly wrought by the baptism of the Holy Spirit. (Kindle Locations 3060-3062)

Zwingli’s description of water baptism as a public pledge implied that it was applicable only to adults who could consciously make such a commitment. In fact, this is precisely what he seems to have believed in the early years of his reforming career in Zurich… [But] beginning in late 1524, Zwingli issued a series of writings in which he disabused himself of his earlier doubts about infant baptism and defended the practice by means of a new argument: covenantal continuity between the people of Israel in the old dispensation and the visible church in the new. (Kindle Locations 3066-3074)

Zwingli did… place great store in the personal faith of the parents who offered the child for baptism… For Zwingli, though, the faith of the parents was secondary to the faith of the whole church. This is why he frowned on private baptisms and insisted that baptism be administered “in the presence of the church” by a duly appointed minister of the Word. “The recipient of baptism testifies that he belongs to the Church of God, which worships its Lord in soundness of faith and purity of life.” Infant baptism was, for Zwingli, essentially an ecclesial event. (Kindle Locations 3110-3119)

Part of the reason, then, why Zwingli and the Anabaptists disagreed on infant baptism was because they disagreed on the relationship between the NT Church and the OT nation of Israel. But I sense that there was a deeper cause for Zwingli’s disagreement with the Anabaptists over baptism. Before Zwingli ever began arguing for continuity between Israel and the Church, he was already committed to serving his city and his state. Zwingli was a Swiss army chaplain before he was a Reformer, and he died on the battlefield while serving in the same role.

(Wikipedia puts it this way: “Zwingli had considered himself first and foremost a soldier of Christ; second a defender of his country, the Confederation; and third a leader of his city, Zurich, where he had lived for the previous twelve years. Ironically, he died at the age of 47, not for Christ nor for the Confederation, but for Zurich.” Citation: Potter, G. R., Zwingli, [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1976], page 414.)

Back to Timothy George:

In one of his earliest writings as a reformer, Zwingli described himself as “a Swiss professing Christ among the Swiss.”(Kindle Locations 2523-2524)

By 1524 he had discerned that the real danger from the Anabaptists was not so much heresy as schism and sedition. Infant baptism came to be the fulcrum on which both the unity of the church and the integrity of the civic order turned… Zwingli’s program of reform… equated the visible church with the populace of the Christian city or state: “A Christian city is nothing other than a Christian church.” The Christian civitas might be a corpus permixtum of sheep and goats, God alone knowing for sure who was which, but it could not be a company of baptized and unbaptized lest the civic order itself, and the proclamation of the gospel that depended upon it, be imperiled. It is ironic that water baptism, which played at best an adiaphorous [neutral] role in Zwingli’s soteriology [doctrine of salvation], became the basis for his defense of the visible church. (Kindle Locations 3123-3132)

Despite Zwingli’s enhanced view of the Eucharist [later in life he “moved toward a more positive appreciation of the real presence of Christ in the Supper”], the primary pastoral purpose of the Supper—as with baptism—remained congregational rather than individual. The sacraments were chiefly those signs by which the believer proved to the church that he was a soldier of Christ; their purpose was “to inform the whole church rather than yourself of your faith.” (Kindle Locations 3388-3396)

Zwingli’s bold program of reform included a reordering of the whole community, not just the church. From beginning to end, he was single-mindedly concerned to uphold the sovereignty of God and to root out every practice that encouraged the placing of one’s trust in the creature. He took more literally than Luther the sola in sola scriptura, even if the Anabaptists did him one still better in this regard. (Kindle Locations 3443-3446)

Many more lessons could be drawn from Zwingli’s example. I’ll end by briefly underscoring two. A negative lesson is the reminder that our ecclesiology can be gravely distorted by our patriotism. Need I say more? A positive lesson is the reminder to test all church practices and beliefs by Scripture. Zwingli did this imperfectly, but he did it better than many in his day. His skillful biblical exposition paved the way for others to surpass him in forming biblical churches, and should remind us of our own unfinished task.

(Next up: the ecclesiology of John Calvin.)

What did you learn from these highlights from Zwingli’s ecclesiology? What might you add to George’s observations? How might you balance my reflections? What should the Church today learn from Zwingli? Share your insights in the comments below!

PS: If you are enjoying this series, be sure to buy Timothy George’s book! He has much more to say than what I am sharing here. (Disclosure: The link above is an Amazon affiliate link, so I’ll make pennies if you buy the book.)

Thinking Theology Aloud [Random]

Which Came First–Original Sin or Infant Baptism?

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I read something this morning that got me thinking again about the question of original sin. (See here and here for my previous thoughts.) The “question of original sin,” in my case, is the question of whether that phrase is a good and biblical way to talk about what went wrong when Adam sinned. I don’t doubt that Adam’s sin was the first or “original” human sin, but the term usually means more than that. It usually refers to “humanity’s state of sin resulting from the fall of man,” and it often includes the idea that humans are born with a “sinful nature.” It is these latter concepts with which I am wrestling. The biblical data on such topics has been shrouded in encrusted layers of theological language for so long (to use rather negative language) that it is difficult for us to hear what Scripture itself has to say.

What I read this morning was something Louis McBride posted today over on the Baker Book House Church Connection blog, something about Augustine, infant baptism, and original sin. (A blog worth following for biblical interpreters and theologians.) His post summarizes an essay by Peter Sanlon entitled “Original Sin in Patristic Theology.”

Here is part of McBride’s summary:

[Sanlon] demonstrates that it was vitally important to Augustine to show that his views [about the doctrine of original sin] were not original with him but reflected the historic position of the church. Augustine offered “citations from Scripture, church fathers, and councils” in his defense and he “coined an epithet for the Pelagians who denied original sin. They were the novi hereticic, ‘new heretics.’” (91) An important doctrine tied to this was infant baptism. Augustine agreed with the Pelagians that babies had committed no actual sin. “Unable to commit any actual sins, the sin babies needed rescuing from had to be original sin.” (93) The antiquity of infant baptism was evidence, Augustine claimed, that the church had long accepted original sin.

Now, I have not read Sanlon’s full essay, nor have I read Augustine’s writings against the Pelagians, so I can’t weigh all Augustine’s evidence well. But what caught my attention was how Augustine (AD 354-430) relied on infant baptism as strong evidence for the correctness of his views on original sin. His thinking went something like this: (1) Infant baptism has been practiced from ancient times, (2) therefore infant baptism is legitimate, (3) there must be some reason why babies need to be baptized, (4) therefore original sin must be true.

[amazon template=thumbnail11&asin=0802871089]McBride’s summary of Sanlon’s summary of Augustine reminded me of something else I’ve read. The following is from Everett Ferguson, in his magisterial volume entitled Baptism in the Early Church: History, Theology, and Liturgy in the First Five Centuries (see [amazon text=here&asin=0802871089]):

There is general agreement that there is no firm evidence for infant baptism before the latter part of the second century. This fact does not mean that it did not occur, but it does mean that supporters of the practice [such as Augustine?] have a considerable chronological gap to account for. Many replace the historical silence by appeal to theological or sociological considerations.

Arguments against the originality of baby baptism, in addition to its lack of early attestation, include: the essential nature ascribed to verbal confession and repentance; the liturgy designed for persons of responsible age; size of baptistries; and the lack of an agreed theology to support it (Chrysostom and the eastern churches vs. Augustine).

The most plausible explanation for the origin of infant baptism is found in the emergency baptism of sick children expected to die soon so that they would be assured of entrance into the kingdom of heaven. There was a slow extension of the practice of baptizing babies as a precautionary measure. It was generally accepted, but questions continued to be raised about its propriety into the fifth century. It because the usual practice in the fifth and sixth centuries. (856-57)

Okay, that was all background to prepare for this quote:

In the Augustinian-Pelagian controversy infant baptism was a principle support for the doctrine of original sin, rather than the other way around, since baptism was universally recognized as for forgiveness of sins. With the victory of Augustine’s arguments original sin became the reason for infant baptism in the western church. (857)

With Ferguson’s input, we can now update our flow chart of the logic of original sin and infant baptism: (1) Infant baptism has been practiced from ancient times, (2) therefore infant baptism is legitimate, (3) there must be some reason why babies need to be baptized, (4) therefore original sin must be true, (5) therefore infant baptism is necessary.

Does anyone else see any problems with this logic? I see at least two:

  1. The last point introduces circular logic. To believe infant baptism for the reasons given is about as logical as saying “We need a good speaker for our fall meetings, and we’ve asked Dwight to be our speaker, therefore Dwight must be a good speaker.” Sorry, you just might be disappointed.
  2. The premise is faulty. As Ferguson shows, there is “no firm evidence” that infant baptism was a practice with any “antiquity” (to use Sanlon’s term) older than about AD 150 or later. Since infant baptism is shaky, it is also shaky evidence for original sin.

Neither of these logical flaws proves that original sin is not a biblical doctrine. But our historical survey does show that the doctrine of original sin has been defended from early days in questionable ways. If original sin is a valid doctrine, it certainly is not valid because of infant baptism, contra Augustine.

So, to answer the title of this post, which came first–the doctrine of original sin or the practice of infant baptism? I still don’t know, but I’m still waiting for evidence that clearly shows that either belonged to the New Testament church.

[amazon template=thumbnail11&asin=0310230136]One good place to look for such evidence is in Gregg R. Allison’s book Historical Theology (see [amazon text=here&asin=0310230136]). His chapter on “Sin” summarizes the development of the church’s beliefs about, among other things, original sin. Perhaps I can do a follow-up post summarizing Allison’s evidence. For now, let this summary of Justin Martyr, one of the very earliest Christian writers (c. AD 100–165) whet your curiosity:

Justin Martyr focused on individual responsibility for sin, affirming that people “become subject to punishment by their own fault.” Although Justin linked humanity to Adam, the relationship is one of ancestor to descendants, each of whom sins individually. Thus, sinful people become “like Adam and Eve,” but they do so when they “work out death for themselves.” (343)

And in Justin’s own words:

The human race… from Adam had fallen under the power of death and the guile [deceit] of the serpent, and each one had committed personal transgression. — Dialogue with Trypho, a Jew, 88, in Ante-Nicene Fathers (Schaff/Hendrickson, 1994), 1:243

Does this sound like original sin to you? Share your thoughts below.