History of the Russian Mennonites

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 How did the movement become so withdrawn--even "dour and unexciting,” according to one historian?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

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

When my friends and I were baptized in the late 1970s in a bilingual, immigrant Canadian Mennonite General Conference church, most of our mothers presented us with a white handkerchief for our first experience (and observance) of communion. Where did this tradition come from? A veneration of the bread? I chose not to use one. In his 1723 book on the Vistula Delta, its peoples and customs, Abraham Hartwich--a generally unsympathetic observer of the Mennonites--quotes a 1701 letter he received from an official in Tiegenhoff. He describes the unique Frisian Mennonite practice ( bey den groben Mannisten) of placing the communion bread in their clean handkerchief ( in ihr reines Schnupfftuch ) and eating with caution and respect ( note 1 ; pic). 280 years later, this was still the practice in my home congregation. In the period just prior immigration to Russia, the Danzig Mennonite (Flemish) church practiced communion twice a year—shortly after baptism in the spring, and then again o

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

A picture can be worth a thousand words. We do not have photographs, but we have a few colour paintings of life in and around Danzig in the late 1600s and early 1700s, as well as maps. We also have a limited number of "textual snapshots" of Mennonites at this time and place, which offer an instructive window into that foreign world. These snapshots of work, worship, health, education, community relationships, smaller repressions, and security can contribute to the creation of a larger collage of Mennonite life in Danzig and Polish Prussia.  Snapshot 1 : In 1681 there were approximately 180 Mennonite families who lived in the “gardens” or villages outside Danzig, with 113 of those families within the jurisdiction of the city. At this time Mennonites were barred from owning houses within the walls of the city. Of these 113 family heads, we know: 43 were retailers of spirits, 24 merchants, 9 lacemakers, 7 dyers, 3 silk dyers, 3 pressers, 2 brokers, 2 treasurers, 2 waitresses, et

A very public congregational dispute between artist Enoch Seemann and Flemish Elder Georg Hansen in Danzig in the 1690s set new limits for Mennonite cultural participation and cemented the central role of the elder. Renowned Canadian novelist Rudy Wiebe has put the story into a beautiful historical narrative in Sweeter than all the World, based largely on Harry Loewen’s historical tale of Seemann in Cities of Refuge . More recently we have a full text reconstruction of the key lost pamphlet and replies, by Hans Rudolf Lavater. Here is the gist of the story. Seemann was born in the Hansa city of Elbing (Poland) to a Mennonite minister and artist—a reminder of the sophisticated urban culture that some refugees brought east. Seemann travelled abroad and apprenticed in Holland, then settled in Danzig where he also married. As an accomplished portrait painter, he was disciplined by Elder Hansen and the congregation in 1697 for painting “graven images” and was barred from communion, footwash