History of the Russian Mennonites

The most important and influential Prussian Mennonite leader in a century, Danzig Elder Georg Hansen, taught in the late 1600s that footwashing is “necessary for salvation (Seeligkeit)”—symbolic of the community’s deep commitment to humility and mutual service as a strategy for establishing the Lord’s kingdom. In this regard, he echoed Danzig’s first Anabaptist elder, Dirk Philips, a century earlier ( note 1 ). He shaped a tradition. Hansen “disciplined” an accomplished but haughty (in Hansen’s perspective) portrait painter in the congregation in 1697, for example, for painting “graven images,” and barred him from communion, footwashing, and membership meetings ( note 2 ). A century later, a new confession of faith was published by Elbing Mennonite Elder Gerhard Wiebe in 1792, which was taken to Russia and reprinted for another century and more ( note 3 ). While the government is a divine ordinance to obey, according to this tradition, it is ultimately through a servant people that G

Vaccination lists for Chortitza Mennonite children in 1809 and 1814 were published prior to the COVID-19 pandemic with little curiosity ( note 1 ). However during the 2020-22 pandemic and in a context in which some refused to vaccinate for religious belief, the historic data took on new significance. Ancestors of some of the more conservative Russian Mennonite groups—like the Reinländer or the Bergthalers or the adult children of land delegate Jacob Höppner—were in fact vaccinating their infants and toddlers against small pox over two hundred years ago ( note 2 ). Also before the current pandemic Ukrainian historian Dmytro Myeshkov brought to light other archival materials on Mennonites and vaccination. The material below is my summary and translation of the relevant pages of Myeshkov’s massive 2008 volume on Black Sea German and their Worlds, 1781 to 1871 (German only; note 3 ). Myeshkov confirms that Chortitza was already immunizing its children in 1804 when their District Offic

Asiatic Cholera broke out across Russia in 1829 and ‘30, and further into Europe in 1831. It began with an infected battalion in Orenburg ( note 1 ), and by early Fall 1830 the disease had reached Moscow and the capital. Russia imposed drastic quarantine measures. Much like today, infected regions were cut off and domestic trade was restricted. The disease reached the Molotschna River district in Fall 1830, and by mid-December hundreds of Nogai deaths were recorded in the villages adjacent to the Mennonite colony, leading state authorities to impose a strict quarantine. When the Mennonite Johann Cornies—a state-appointed agricultural supervisor and civic leader—first became aware of the nearby cholera-related deaths, he recommended to the Mennonite District Office on December 6, 1830 to stop traffic and prevent random contacts with Nogai. For Cornies it was important that the Mennonite community do all it can keep from carrying the disease into the community, though “only God knows

In Russia, there were two groups of Mennonite settlers—the Flemish and the Frisians. Land scout Jacob Höppner was Flemish, and his partner Johann Bartsch was Frisian—that flipped later. If you looked closely, the Frisian men in the 1820s wore long beards and their clothing had buttons; the Flemish were more conservative and only used hooks ( note 1 ). In church the differences were more pronounced. When baptizing, the Frisians sprinkled, whereas the Flemish poured. The latter required two character witnesses before baptism ( note 2 ). Before the first settlers left for Russia in 1788, the Frisian and Flemish Mennonite elders still had not settled the issue of intermarriage—in some cases requiring rebaptism. The Flemish received communion from the elders sitting; the Frisians standing, followed with footwashing ( note 3 ). The Frisians received the communion bread from the elder on a clean handkerchief and ate with caution and respect; the Flemish did not have that practice (not