"The future of the Mennonite Church is not in Prussia but in Russia."

The 1788-89 start for Mennonites in New Russia was disastrous, and after four years colonists begged for ministerial leaders from Prussia to come and establish order (note 1).

On Good Friday, April 18, 1794, a Flemish church elder and a minister--Cornelius Regier of Heubuden and Cornelius Warkentin of Rosenort-- arrived in Chortitza to assist. After only three weeks of moderating, reconciling, teaching, ordaining and baptizing, Regier contracted an illness and died; Warkentin finished their work and returned to Prussia on July 10.

Warkentin’s Prussian ministerial colleagues were skeptical. Would order last in that rag-tag group? But Warkentin returned with the conviction “that the future of the Mennonite Church was not in Prussia but in Russia” (note 2). Why?

During his visit to Chortitza, Warkentin met Russian State Counsellor Samuel Contenius—the son of a German Westphalian Protestant pastor—responsible for the oversight and care of foreign colonists. Warkentin was convinced of the counsellor’s deep commitment to the Mennonite settlement (note 3).

And importantly, Warkentin was struck by the empire’s ecumenical peace, respect and protection—quite foreign to Prussia!—for minority religious groups like the Mennonites. On his return, Warkentin had inter-church encounters in New Russia that helped to strengthen that conviction (note 4).

First, around Vyshenka he stopped and met with German Lutheran, Catholic, and Hutterite leaders. The Lutheran pastor offered coffee, long conversation and a polite farewell. The Catholic priest extended similar hospitality to him, and “as we parted we were both convinced that we would meet again in that place of eternal bliss.” While in the middle of their harvest, the Hutterites too gave Warkentin a “warm welcome,” invited him to preach twice and were “deeply moved” by his reflections on conversion, new birth and Christian service. This was complemented by a friendly invitation for a tour of the Tsarina’s summer palace and conversation with the Orthodox countess in Vyshenka.

Then another German group immigrating to Russia but held up in Riga “made me preach to them in a large room in their hotel where people from various religious backgrounds attended. They all expressed their satisfaction to me, and a rich merchant invited me to have dinner with his family in his garden.” Additional lengthy conversations “on many topics” over coffee and meals were held with the mayor and the governor of Riga and the latter’s guests “of very high rank.” Finally, two evangelical pastors saw Warkentin off at the harbour in Riga. This was not Prussia: the unique climate of hospitable ecumenism and official support solidified Warkentin’s vision for a thriving Mennonite future in the Russian empire.

For the next twenty-five years, Warkentin actively negotiated “with a great deal of circumspection” (note 5) with Contenius and other Russian officials to promote emigration, especially as land restrictions tightened for Mennonites in Prussia under Friedrich Wilhelm III in 1801.

On August 22, 1802, Contenius wrote Warkentin regarding the request for some two hundred families of Mennonite faith to settle in the region. He indicated that Governor Count von Miklashevsky was prepared to welcome not only two hundred, but several thousand Mennonite families, and that he would set aside the best available land for them. Moreover, they would receive the same privileges and better crown loans than those Mennonites who had immigrated earlier, and be given even more generous terms than any other settler group.

“[I]f necessary, a half million Morgen [125,000 hectares] of land will be divided and held in readiness for them,” Contenius wrote encouragingly. “In order to take advantage of the generous terms offered by the state we must move as quickly as possible.” Contenius added that Warkentin should understand that the contents of the letter “must be guarded with caution and not broadcast too widely. I do not wish to promote misunderstandings or anger elsewhere by appearing to entice strangers into leaving their fatherland” (note 6).

In the next year, as thousands prepared for emigration with detailed recommendations for would-be settlers sent by Contenius, Warkentin’s highly secret Russian correspondence was in fact confiscated and, in turn, he was silenced. Warkentin responded to Russian officials that “the Prussian government continues threatening those who want to leave. It has promised to confiscate half of all property and possessions of every emigrant” (note 7).

Historically Russia’s religious policies and accommodations for non-Orthodox minority groups had proven to be more successful in minimizing religious violence than in the west—which Warkentin understood.

Because of his ongoing efforts and accomplishments, Alexander I recognized Warkentin in 1804 with a solid gold medal with the inscription: “To Warkentin, the Elder of the Mennonites” (note 8 ).

Moreover, a half century later Mennonites confessed that “Contenius, was the man whom God gave us at this time, so that we would be led towards our destiny in the new Fatherland. Imbued with a Christian love of humanity, he dealt with matters of the community with rare faithfulness and great circumspection. No branch of business that could become important went unnoticed by him” (note 9).

---Arnold Neufeldt-Fast

---Notes---

Photo (close up of coin) https://mla.bethelks.edu/archives/numbered-photos/pholist2.php?num=2004-0215.

Note 1: Cf. related post.

Note 2: Cf. Johannes van der Smissen, The History of the Church in Chortitza. Towards an Understanding of the History of the Church in the Mennonite Colonies in South Russia (1856), translated and edited by William Schroeder (Winnipeg, MB: Schroeder, 1992), 28. Also published in Preservings no. 15 (1999): 3–10, https://www.plettfoundation.org/files/preservings/Preservings15.pdf.

Note 3: David G. Rempel, “The Mennonite Migration to New Russia (1787–1870): II. The Emigration to Russia,” Mennonite Quarterly Review 9, no. 3 (July 1935), 120. On Contenius, see E. Schmid-München, Die deutschen Bauern in Südrußland (Berlin: Deutsche Landbuchhandlung, 1917), 15, https://chortitza.org/0v937.pdf.

Note 4: Cf. van der Smissen, History of the Church in Chortitza, 23–28; Peter M. Friesen, The Mennonite Brotherhood in Russia, 1789–1910 (Winnipeg, MB: Christian, 1978), 163-165, https://archive.org/details/TheMennoniteBrotherhoodInRussia17891910/.

Note 5: Rempel, “Mennonite Migration to New Russia (II),” 120.

Note 6: Samuel Contenuis to Cornelius Warkentin, Rosenort, West Prussia, August 22, 1802, Letter, California Mennonite Historical Society Bulletin 35 (January 1998), 7–10. https://fpuscholarworks.fresno.edu/bitstream/handle/11418/335/cmhs035-7.pdf. On problems finding land suitable to meet the state mandate (model farming) for new settlers, cf. David G. Rempel, “The Mennonite Migration to New Russia (1787–1870): I. The Colonization Policy of Catherine II and Alexander I,” Mennonite Quarterly Review 9, no. 2 (April 1935), 88f.

Note 7: C. Warkentin, correspondence cited in Andrey Ivanov, “Emigration to New Russia: Complications and Challenges,” California Mennonite Historical Society Bulletin 37 (December 1999), 7f., https://fpuscholarworks.fresno.edu/handle/11418/350.

Note 8: Van der Smissen, History of the Church in Chortitza, 28.

Note 9: Johann Peters, “Eine einfache Erzählung der Auswanderung der Chortitzer Mennoniten,” 1857 (from Chortitza: Mennonitische Geschichte und Ahnenforschung, https://chortitza.org/pdf/0v751.php).

---

To cite this page: Arnold Neufeldt-Fast, "The Future of the Mennonite Church is not in Prussia but in Russia," History of the Russian Mennonites (blog), September 16, 2022, https://russianmennonites.blogspot.com/2022/09/the-future-of-mennonite-church-is-not.html.

Comments

Swiss and Palatinate Connections

Sometime after 1850 Andreas Plennert and his family immigrated to South Russia from the Culm Region of West Prussia. Though there was at least one Mennonite “Plehnert” who had already immigrated to Russia in 1793, it is not a very common Prussian-Russian Mennonite name. As such, however, it is easier to trace than many and offers a minority narrative and identity within the longer and broader Russian Mennonite story. The account below is adapted largely from information in Horst Penner, Die ost- und westpreußischen Mennoniten , vol. 1, though I have expanded upon his work to offer a slightly different narrative. In 1724 there was a group of Mennonites forced out of the Memel region in East Prussia for political and religious reasons and were given assistance to resettle back to West Prussia in areas populated by Mennonites. Among the 23 households that went to the Stuhm region there is one Plenert listed, namely Christian Plenert. We know that Mennonites entered the Memel region ...

The Shift from Dutch to German, 1700s

Already in 1671, Mennonite Flemish Elder Georg Hansen in Danzig published his German-language catechism ( Glaubens-Bericht für die Jugend ) as preparation for youth seeking baptism. Though educational competencies varied, Hansen’s Glaubens-Bericht assumed that youth preparing for baptism had a stronger ability to read complex German than Dutch ( note 1 ). Popular Mennonite preacher Jacob Denner (1659–1746), originally from the Hamburg-Altona Mennonite Church, lived in Danzig for four years in the early 1700s. A first volume of his Dutch sermons was published in 1706 in Danzig and Amsterdam, and then in 1730 and 1751 he published two German collections. Untrained preachers would often read Denner’s sermons: “Those who preached German—which all Prussian preachers around 1750 did, with the exception of the Danzig preachers—had no sermons books from their co-religionists other than this one by Jacob Denner” ( note 2 ). In Danzig and the Vistula Delta region there were some differences...

Catherine the Great’s 1763 Manifesto

“We must swarm our vast wastelands with people. I do not think that in order to achieve this it would be useful to compel our non-Christians to accept our faith--polygamy for example, is even more useful for the multiplication of the population. … "Russia does not have enough inhabitants, …but still possesses a large expanse of land, which is neither inhabited nor cultivated. … The fields that could nourish the whole nation, barely feeds one family..." – Catherine II (Note 1 ) “We perceive, among other things, that a considerable number of regions are still uncultivated which could easily and advantageously be made available for productive use of population and settlement. Most of the lands hold hidden in their depth an inexhaustible wealth of all kinds of precious ores and metals, and because they are well provided with forests, rivers and lakes, and located close to the sea for purpose of trade, they are also most convenient for the development and growth of many kinds ...

Russia: A Refuge for all True Christians Living in the Last Days

If only it were so. It was not only a fringe group of Russian Mennonites who believed that they were living the Last Days. This view was widely shared--though rejected by the minority conservative Kleine Gemeinde. In 1820 upon the recommendation of Rudnerweide (Frisian) Elder Franz Görz, the progressive and influential Mennonite leader Johann Cornies asked the Mennonite Tobias Voth (b. 1791) of Graudenz, Prussia to come and lead his Agricultural Association’s private high school in Ohrloff, in the Russian Mennonite colony of Molotschna. Voth understood this as nothing less than a divine call upon his life ( note 1; pic 3 ). In Ohrloff Voth grew not only a secondary school, but also a community lending library, book clubs, as well as mission prayer meetings, and Bible study evenings. Voth was the son of a Mennonite minister and his wife was raised Lutheran ( note 2 ). For some years, Voth had been strongly influenced by the warm, Pietist devotional fiction writings of Johann Heinrich Ju...

Last Days of Mennonite Life on the Molotschna, September 1943

The Molotschna Mennonite Colony was established in 1803; 140 years later its villages were evacuated by retreating German armies. A map of the larger German operation of 1943 and the various "Trecks" is attached. The tens of thousands of evacuees included some 35,000 Mennonites. Nazi Germany had utterly failed Ukrainians, but continued to have plans for their "ethnic Germans" in the east. On Sept. 8, 1943 , the Red Army successfully took Donetsk (Stalino), 230 km east of Molotschna. The next day, S.S. administrators gave orders that every Molotschna family should load one wagon with their possessions and prepare for an orderly evacuation. Hitler was intent on holding Crimea, and sought to set up a defensive line from Zaporizhzhia to Melitopol and south to the Sea of Azov. Evacuation plans east of this line were in place since late June—initially to be resettled “somewhere” west of the Dnieper; on Aug. 17 first steps were taken to move 8,000 hospital beds west o...

On Becoming the Quiet in the Land

They are fair questions: “What happened to the firebrands of the Reformation? How did the movement become so withdrawn--even "dour and unexciting,” according to one historian? Mennonites originally referred to themselves as the “quiet in the land” in contrast to the militant--definitely more exciting--militant revolutionaries of Münster ( note 1 ), and identification with Psalm 35:19f.: “Let not my enemies gloat over me … For they do not speak peace, but they devise deceitful schemes against those who live quietly in the land.” How did Mennonites become the “quiet in the land” in Royal Prussia? Minority non-citizen groups in Poland like Jews, Scots, Huguenots or the much smaller body of Mennonites did not enjoy full political or economic rights as citizens. Ecclesial and civil laws left linguistic or religious minorities vulnerable to extortion. Such groups sought to negotiate a Privilegium or charter with the king, which set out a legal basis for some protections of life an...

Mennonite Literacy in Polish-Prussia

At a Mennonite wedding in Deutsch Kazun in 1833 (pic), neither groom nor bride nor the witnesses could sign the wedding register. A Görtz, a Janzen, a Schröder—born a Görtzen – illiterate. “This act was read to the married couple and witnesses, but not signed because they were unable to write.” Similarly, with the certification of a Mennonite death in Culm (Chelmo), West Prussia, 1813-14: “This document was read and it was signed by us because the witnesses were illiterate.” Spouse and children were unable to read or write. Names like Gerz, Plenert, Kliewer, Kasper, Buller and others. 14 families of the 25 Mennonite deaths registered --or 56%--could not sign the paperwork ( note 1 ; pic ). This appears to be an anomaly. We know some pioneers to Russia were well educated. The letters of the land-scout to Russia, Johann Bartsch to his wife back home (1786-87) are eloquent, beautifully written and indicate a high level of literacy ( note 2 ). Even Klaas Reimer (b. 1770), the founder t...

Fraktur (or Gothic) font and Kurrent- (or Sütterlin) handwriting: Nazi ban, 1941

In the middle of the war on January 1, 1942, the Winnipeg-based Mennonitische Rundschau published a new issue without the familiar Fraktur script masthead ( note 1 ). One might speculate on the reasons, but a year earlier Hitler banned the use of the font in the Reich . The Rundschau did not exactly follow all orders from Berlin—the rest of the paper was in Fraktur (sometimes referred to as "Gothic"); when the war ended in 1945, the Rundschau reintroduced the Fraktur font for its masthead. It wasn’t until the 1960s that an issue might have a page or title here or there with the “normal” or Latin font, even though post-war Germany was no longer using Fraktur . By 1973 only the Rundschau masthead is left in Fraktur , and that is only removed in December 1992. Attached is a copy of Nazi Party Secretary Martin Bormann's official letter dated January 3, 1941, which prohibited the use of Fraktur fonts "by order of the Führer. " Why? It was a Jewish invention, apparent...

Why Danzig and Poland?

In the late 16th century, Poland became a haven for a variety of non-conformists which included Jews, Anti-Trinitarians from Italy and Bohemia, Quakers and Calvinists from Great Britain, south German Schwenkfelders, Eastern Orthodox, Armenian, and Greek Catholic Christians, some Muslim Tatars, as well as other peaceful sectarians like the Dutch and Flemish Anabaptists. Unlike the Low Countries and most of western Europe, the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth was a “state without stakes,” and as such fittingly described as “God’s playground” ( note 1 ). In the view of 17th-century Dutch dramatist Joost van den Vondel, it was “the ‘Promised Land,’ where the refugee could forget all his sorrow and enjoy the richness of the land” ( note 2 ). Over the next two centuries an important strand of Mennonite life and spirituality evolved into a mature tradition in this relatively hospitable context ( note 3 ). Anabaptists from the Low Countries began to arrive in Danzig and region as early as 15...

Congregational Discipline: Trouble with "the Saints”

Gerhard Wiebe was elder of the Elbing-Ellerwalde (Polish-Prussia) Mennonite Church from 1778-1796, which includes the years of early immigration to Russia. His ministerial diary lists many names, and each comes with a story ( note 1 ). Wiebe’s accounts of church discipline are particularly revealing for helping us understand the first immigrant generation to New Russia. After preaching the gospel, the elder's most important duty was discipline, and this elder kept note of everything. Wiebe’s cases included: • regular incidences of drunkenness; • bar-tending at “The Kruge” [pitcher / name of inn], with music and all manner of “wicked things”; • leading an “immoral” lifestyle; • dancing in “The Lame Hand” pub [?], • stealing pigs; • licentiousness and leading a worldly life; • jeering and fist-fighting on the street; • excessive agitation and anger (mixed with alcohol); • forgery of payment records, non-payment of debts; • engagement/ marriage to a Lutheran, o...

History of the Russian Mennonites

Search This Blog