The Baptists’ Parallel Revolution

American-Revolution-Hero-H

Introduction

“Baptists are a diverse lot,” one historian once noted, “claiming common and contradictory beliefs and practices.”[i] It does not require a deep analysis to see this proposition played out in both modern times and in history. Even within the first few decades of existence, Baptists were able to distinguish amongst themselves as either being “General” or “Particular” Baptists, that is, even what some might call (nowadays at least) secondary or tertiary doctrines were points of division and irreconcilable.[ii] Indeed, acting on conviction was common among Baptists in history, and based on the nearly innumerable variety of Baptists in the twenty-first century, such a practice is still alive and well. In regards to American history, however, the Baptistic tendency to fight for one’s beliefs and values was not simply significant for ecclesiastical standards. Rather, history reveals that Baptists played a monumental role in what is familiarly known as the American Revolution.

The one unifying tenet that brought Baptists of many strands together, as this research will argue, was the goal of establishing religious freedom in America. But interestingly enough, and perhaps shocking to some, Baptists worked together with other evangelical and Protestant denominations, as well as liberal Christians and even deists for the prospect of securing religious disestablishment and instituting a separation of church and state.[iii] In order to better understand this historical phenomenon, first, several observations will be made regarding American Baptists prior to the Revolution. Secondly, the growing concerns of religious liberty among American Baptists in the eighteenth century will be evaluated. Thirdly, the actions committed by Baptists and their counterparts to buttress their cause of the securing of religious liberty will be considered. Overall, the Baptists’ responsibility in the American Revolution is one that must not be overlooked, especially when considering the important roles of both religion and individual freedom. Whereas many Americans participated in the American Revolution for some type of temporal and personal gain such as political or socio-economic ascendancy (and certainly Baptists would not be excluded from these motivations), Baptists were also taking part in a simultaneous, parallel revolution[iv]: one for the acquisition of religious liberty.[v]

American Baptists Before the Revolution

One of the most necessary measures for understanding how the Baptists participated in the American Revolution is to first consider the social, legal, and religious climates in the years leading up to the 1770s. As Thomas Kidd notes, “Protestants in colonial America normally did not believe in religious liberty.”[vi] However, one of the exceptions occurred in Rhode Island, which also happened to be the colony in which the first Baptist church was inaugurated. “The first congregation of Baptists in America was formed at Providence, Rhode Island in 1638 by Ezekiel Holliman, Roger Williams, and a handful of others,” writes Backney. “While he was convinced of certain Baptist principles, apparently the other tenets of the Providence congregation did not hold Williams, for he dissociated himself from the Baptists in Rhode Island and did not join with them in England in 1643-1644 and 1651-1654 or upon his return to Rhode Island from 1655 onward.”[vii] In the words of Williams, he believed “that the Spirit of God never intended to direct, or warrant, the magistrate to use his power in spiritual affairs and religious worship…”[viii] Another important Rhode Island, Baptist figure was the physician, Dr. John Clarke. Not long after the Providence establishment, “Clarke was instrumental in founding the Newport colony, organizing a Baptist church there, and securing a charter from the English crown in 1663.”[ix] Similar to Roger Williams’ sentiments, Clarke proposed, “[A]ll and every person…[should] freely and fully have and enjoy his own judgments and conscience in matters of religious concernments.”[x] These impassioned words might find complete agreement in many of today’s Americans, but as Baptists emerged in other colonies in New England and then the South, such ideals about freedom of religion were greatly opposed.

Pastor John Russell of Boston stated the accusation brought upon himself and his congregation in 1680: “We are charged to be enemies to Civil Government.” His response concluded in thus:

We know no reason why we should be charged with this, not in the least degree. (1) It is directly against our Principles,…(2) Our continual Prayers to God for them,…(3) Our constant subjection and obedience to all their laws, both actively (as far as we can with a good Conscience) and wherein we could not Actively, there we have been Passively obedient;…[xi]

 

Russell’s statements about religious liberty were at a time when Christendom was more prominent in America and Europe (pre-Enlightenment), thus, not much is mentioned about non-Christian religions or religious skepticism. However, Massachusetts did pass a charter to allow more freedom in 1692 for Protestants. “With this change, the age of exclusionary Puritanism had come to an end.”[xii] But not all religious freedom problems were resolved in Massachusetts. More legislation was passed in 1727, 1748, 1753, and 1757 that while not necessarily forbidding worship, they brought on added legalities, and perhaps more importantly, they invoked fear of potentially worse conditions.[xiii] It is significant to note that these latter concerns predated the American Revolution by less than twenty years. And while Congress made attempts to finalize religious liberty for all Christian denominations in 1774, it was never fully resolved until 1833.[xiv]

According to Backney, “Baptists in colonial America were not well organized and possessed virtually little unity among the various types…Baptist beginnings in America, then, must be understood as one of multiple origins.”[xv] It is not surprising, then, that Baptists were heavily autonomous, as the principle of worshipping according to one’s conscience was a major belief. Managing to maintain local church independence while finding fellowship with like-minded Baptists was no small task, and perhaps even paradoxical. Yet the Philadelphia Baptist Association made this move, which would prove immensely influential. Gerald Priest describes this movement, which was primarily initiated by Welsh Baptists in the Middle Colonies: “Perhaps the most significant legacy of the Welsh Baptists can be found in areas of local church ministry: congregational singing, fervent expositional preaching, Reformed doctrine, itinerant evangelism, and especially their organizational skills as reflected in the first and most influential of all Baptist associations in America—the Philadelphia Baptist Association (1707).”[xvi] The scope of impact was quite potent, to say the least: “The associational model that the Philadelphia Baptist Association forged became a paradigm of unity and mission cooperation for much of the rest of the Baptists in the United States, including churches in New York, New England, Kentucky, Virginia, and the Carolinas.”[xvii] “To their enormous credit,” claims Gerald Priest, “Welsh Baptists came to the sensible conclusion that what could not be proven as essential to Christian doctrine should not be the cause of irreparable schism of Christian brethren.”[xviii] This scandalous ideal of cooperating with others of differing and non-essential perspectives in the religious realm was arguably the precedent for Baptists to willingly work together with other Americans of even unorthodox theological beliefs in the secular realm, all while many maintaining their conservative doctrines and practices. Such an articulate standard was made possible via the historical understanding of “separation of church and state.” In fact, as Frank Lambert declares, “None were more insistent on keeping government out of religion than were the Baptists, whose experience in England and in the colonies had been that of persecution by states favoring an established church.”[xix]

While the Philadelphia Baptist Association’s influence was significant, probably an even greater movement for the nation’s religious history in general, and Baptist history in particular, was the Great Awakening. “Although the Great Awakening represented more a general upsurge of revivalistic piety than a distinct event, it was vastly important for both the churches and American society.”[xx] Not all Americans, therefore, looked favorably upon this movement. Reverend Charles Chauncy denounced the Awakening as being “contrary to all Reason as well as Scripture and subversive of all Order in the Churches.”[xxi] But for those who did align themselves with the revival party, they would become known as “New Lights,” whereas opponents were labeled “Old Lights.” Brackney informs, “The evangelical ministry of the mid-eighteenth century New Lights offered Americans new commitments in the political, moral, and ethical realms.”[xxii] Furthermore, Kidd suggests, ““The birth of American evangelical Christianity in the 1740s resulted in the first widespread popular uprising against established authority in the history of British colonial America, and it heavily influenced many of those who would fill the rank and file of the Patriot movement in the American Revolution.”[xxiii] Meanwhile, Lambert argues that the relationship between Evangelicals and non-Evangelicals (at least in socio-political realms) began soon after the Great Awakening. He states, “The vast majority of Americans transformed by the Great Awakening and the Enlightenment agreed on one thing: religious tyranny and priestcraft must be rooted out of church and state.”[xxiv] Baptists were part of the agreement as well.

Some Baptists who were involved in the Great Awakening faced penalties for their actions, as many of them joined up with “Separate” churches. These latter individuals “could face fines and various punishments, especially for tax evasion if they refused to pay tithes that would support the established churches from which they had fled.”[xxv] At the same time, Baptists who were suspicious of the revivals, mostly in urban areas, were deemed “Regular” Baptists.[xxvi] Such distinctions between Regular and Separates were especially noticeable in the South, that is, once the Great Awakening spread there.[xxvii] Ultimately, while there was not a total consensus on the acceptability of the Awakening, Baptists inherited substantial benefits, including new leaders such as Isaac Backus and Hezekiah Smith.[xxviii] But not only did the Baptists become the beneficiaries of the Great Awakening, they also became the influencers of society. As McLoughlin writes, “The Baptists…were thoroughly egalitarian, and the thrust of their beliefs and practices from the Great Awakening onward worked for ‘the breakdown of the static, aristocratic, class-stratified, and carefully controlled social order of the old colonial society.’”[xxix] Therefore, Baptistic ideologies, particularly among the New Light and Separate Baptists, undoubtedly affected the way people thought about personal freedoms, especially religious liberty. To summarize the history of colonialist Baptists from Roger Williams up to the time of the American Revolution, Mark Noll’s words are perhaps most appropriate: “Williams argued early in the seventeenth century that the nature of the gospel was such that external coercion in religious matters inevitably compromised the freedom which true Christianity required. Although such thinking was as destructive of colonial religious establishments as of the Church of England, during the Revolutionary crisis it took on fresh implications for dissenters from the American establishments such as Isaac Backus.”[xxx] The concern for Baptists in the Revolution, or to be me more specific, in their parallel revolution, was not simply about liberty from England, but for liberty from religious compulsion.

American Baptists and Their Concerns With Religious Liberty

            Leading up to the time of the American Revolution, Baptists were not the only denomination to express concerns of religious liberty, though they were the most outspoken.[xxxi] After having many of their congregants convert to Anglicanism in the 1700s, “Congregationalists feared the Anglican Church’s incursions in America. They worried especially about possible attempts by the Church of England to foist an Anglican bishop on the colonies, which they viewed as the critical step in forcing an Anglican establishment on New England.”[xxxii] Furthermore, a growing issue revolved around the imposition of Anglican bishops, so that even Anglican laypeople had their fears of religious tyranny.[xxxiii] Meanwhile, Roman Catholics, who faced stringent religious discrimination in many of the colonies, could see the potential benefits of supporting the Revolutionary War against England, in that they could potentially secure religious liberty for themselves.[xxxiv] In this culture of fear and uncertainty, but also of hope for religious liberty, the American Revolution presented appealing opportunities for not only Baptists, but for Christians of other persuasions.

Amidst the conflicts in the socio-political realm between the colonists and the mother country, Baptists were not immediately persuaded that joining the revolutionary movement was of their best interests. “Viewing the situation in moral rather than political terms,” Noll states, “they considered maintaining neutrality in the political struggle.”[xxxv] In actuality, New England Baptists had received favor from the king in a quarrel with the Massachusetts assembly in 1771. It was during this time that Isaac Backus complained, “[M]any who are filling the nation with the cry of liberty and against oppressors are at the same time themselves violating the dearest of all rights, liberty of conscience.”[xxxvi] However, when the Intolerable Acts were instituted, which revoked the Massachusetts charters, Noll explains,

Baptists were now convinced that Parliament was even more perfidious than the Massachusetts assembly and that reliance on Parliament was like leaning upon a fragile reed…It was, however, only when the threat to civil, and hence religious, liberty seemed greater from the king and Parliament than from the colonial assemblies that most Baptists turned to the Patriot cause espoused by their Congregational neighbors.[xxxvii]

 

In the South, Baptists were especially encouraged by the American Revolution’s potential benefits. More than 160 Baptist preachers were persecuted for their illegal, itinerant ministries in the 1760s and 1770s.[xxxviii] But as Rhys Isaac records,

[A]lthough it must be understood as a revolt against the traditional system, [the Baptist response] was not primarily negative. Behind it can be discerned an impulse toward a tighter, more effective system of values to be established and maintained within the ranks of the common folk…Whether alarm at encroaching evil was expressed in the moralization of gentlemen patriots or in the thundering of Baptist preachers against sin, it was directed against those forms of conviviality that provided such an important medium for customary definition and assertion of the self.[xxxix]

 

Save the few exceptions of loyalists and pacifists, Baptists were strong proponents of the American Revolution ultimately because of a parallel revolution of obtaining religious liberty.[xl]

American Baptists and Their Quest for Revolution

            With a majority of Baptists in favor of the Revolutionary War, some even fighting in it, they were fighting in a physical realm for tangible and social liberties, but the underlying impetus centered on attaining spiritual liberties, namely, freedom of and disestablishment of religion. Upon securing victory against England in the Revolutionary War, there were certainly many unresolved matters for all Americans, best evidenced through the Federalist/Anti-Federalist controversy. And in the Baptist parallel revolution for religious liberty, there were also unsettled problems that would require more effort to fulfill their goals. As Americans diverged in opinions concerning political controversies, so too did Baptists disagree over the meaning of religious liberty.

In New England, there was less of a threat of Anglicanism to restrain Baptists’ rights than the powerful Congregational denomination. Mark Noll describes the efforts by Isaac Backus,

During the Revolution, which he supported, Backus asked Massachusetts and Connecticut why they maintained establishments of religion that forced Baptists and other non-Congregationalists to support forms of Christianity that they conscientiously opposed. If the colonists were fighting Britain for liberty, Backus asked, why did the new states themselves not grant religious liberty to their own residents?[xli]

 

Massachusetts’ state constitution in 1780 still maintained heavy governmental involvement in the religious choices of the state’s citizens, and there were even cases of violence towards Baptists.[xlii] Eventually, Baptists in Massachusetts did find their state’s laws acceptable, but such was not the case until 1833. After the Unitarians split away from the conservative Congregationalists in the 1820s, “[A] number of traditional Congregationalists, fearing that they themselves were becoming minorities in some areas, joined with the Baptists in 1833 to amend the state constitution and disestablish their church.”[xliii] Whereas Baptists in the North found Isaac Backus to be their main spokesman of religious liberty, the Middle Colonies continued to enjoy these freedoms. The South, however, is where the biggest gains were made.

Out of all states in the South, Virginia was by far the most important for the successes of religious liberty. Speaking of Baptist ministers James Ireland, John Leland, and John Waller, Jon Butler submits the following remarks that find strong congruence with this research’s thesis: “They fought for two revolutions in Virginia, one for political freedom and one for religious freedom.”[xliv] Kevin Phillips describes, in brief, the history of Virginia’s Separate Baptist origins: “Separate Baptist activity in the South first unfolded in the North Carolina Piedmont after the arrival in 1755 of New England missionary Shubal Stearns. He and his brother-in-law, Daniel Marshall, established a church at Sandy Creek, east of what is now Greensboro.”[xlv] Subsequently, Baptists migrated from the Sandy Creek affiliated churches into Virginia in the late 1750s.[xlvi] Baptist preachers such as Ireland, Leland, and Waller (along with dozens of others) provided challenges to the established Anglican Church, and while their efforts for a simultaneous revolution of religious liberty were exceptional, ultimately they could not succeed on their own. Even at the time of the Declaration of Independence being penned, “Support for some kind of religious establishment remained strong in Virginia.”[xlvii] The Virginia Baptists’ hope for securing religious liberty would be most profoundly found in an unorthodox, non-Baptistic Christian and a deist: James Madison and Thomas Jefferson.

James Madison’s personal views of religion are a bit of a mystery, as he remained rather quiet about such matters throughout much of his life, but he did seem to favor unorthodox Christianity. Yet that does not mean Madison thought religion to be unimportant, particularly in matters of religious freedom. Noll helpfully summarizes Madison’s contribution to this important subject: “Madison’s first political activity on the eve of the Revolution showed his concern for religious matters: in the face of opposition from Virginia’s Anglican planter class, Madison went out of his way to support the granting of civil rights to Baptists. To the end of his days he was an ardent champion of religious liberty.”[xlviii] Early on in the Revolution, “Madison believed that Virginia’s civil authorities had trespassed from their proper jurisdiction by policing the private beliefs of the evangelicals [including Baptists].”[xlix] One of the better achievements by Madison was when he adopted Jefferson’s Bill for Establishing Religious Freedom, proposed in 1779, and managed to get it to pass in 1786.[l] For Baptists, one of the greatest concerns with the Constitution was that, in the words of John Leland, “Religious Liberty is not sufficiently secured.”[li] Madison’s accommodation to include the bill of rights on religious liberty was ensured by his own promise of watchfulness: “One thing I shall expect; that if religious Liberty is anywise threatened, that I shall receive the earliest intelligence.”[lii] Also in the words of the Father of the Constitution, stating them later on in his life, “We are teaching the world the great truth that Governments do better without Kings and Nobles than with them. The merit will be doubled by the other lesson that Religion flourishes in greater purity, without than with the aid of Government.”[liii] Madison, then, operated in both of Virginia’s “Revolutions,” advocating the Constitution’s ratification and helping to secure religious freedom.

The unifying factor that permitted many Baptists to cooperate with the deist, Thomas Jefferson, was the quest for the security of religious freedom. The Virginia State for Religious Freedom had national implications as the debates in Virginia formed the foundation for the First Amendment, and provided freedom in the public sphere for “the Jew and the Gentile, the Christian and Mahometan, the Hindoo, and Infidel of every denomination.”[liv] According to Jefferson, “The legitimate powers of government extend to such acts only as are injurious to others. But it does me no injury for my neighbour to say there are twenty gods, or no god. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.”[lv] Appealing to the great levels of levels of freedom in New York and Pennsylvania, Jefferson stated, “[T]heir harmony is unparalleled, and can be ascribed to nothing but their unbounded tolerance, because there is no other circumstance in which they differ from every nation on earth. They have made the happy discovery, that the way to silence religious disputes, is to take no notice of them.”[lvi] Jefferson’s correspondence with Baptists was not only with the Southern and Middle Colonies, but in the North as well.[lvii] Most notably in the North was with Connecticut’s Danbury Baptist Association. On January 1, 1802, he wrote to these members, “Believing with you that religion is a matter which lies solely between man and his God,” the First Amendment, which was affirmed by “the whole American people,” was for “building a wall of separation between church and State.”[lviii] Even though the religious beliefs between Jefferson and historic Baptist theology were completely antithetical, the common vision for America to provide religious liberty allowed the relationship to thrive. Beyond this relationship, nevertheless, Baptists still had another significant predicament to resolve, namely, the precise meaning of religious liberty.

Among Baptists, there appeared to have been at least three permissible views of the freedom of religion principle during the Revolutionary era: (1) Freedom for all Protestants to practice their faith without governmental interference. (2) Freedom for all Christians, Protestant or Catholic, to practice their faith without governmental interference. (3) Freedom for all people to practice the faith of any religion, or to not practice any religion. McLoughlin observes the following about Isaac Backus, one of the most prominent Baptists whose ministry reached to both the North and South: “Backus wanted friendly cooperation, not a rigid wall of separation between church and state, and he had a very fuzzy view of precisely where the civil enforcement of Christian morality ended and the religious freedom of Christ’s kingdom began.”[lix] Backus’s complaints focused more on matters of taxation, as he wrote, “Our real grievances are that we, as well as our fathers, have from time to time been taxed on religious accounts where we were not represented; and when we have sued for our rights, our causes have been tried by interested judges.”[lx] Much clearer and reminiscent of Thomas Jefferson’s generous view of religious liberty, John Leland wrote,

Government has no more to do with the religious opinions of men, than it has with the principles of mathematics. Let every man speak freely without fear, maintain the principles that he believes, worship according to his own faith, either one God, three Gods, no God, or twenty Gods; and let government protect him in doing so, i.e., see that he meets with no personal abuse, or loss of property, for his religious opinions.[lxi]

 

Caleb Blood took a somewhat stricter, but still moderate stance: “I am far from wishing to have America involved in the great error of blending the government of church and state together. But I heartily wish that all her rulers may be truly virtuous, and such as shall rule in the fear of God.”[lxii] Some Baptists advocated, as did Luther Martin and David Caldwell, for a required theological test among officeholders, with the fear that unorthodox and especially non-Christians would plague the government and the nation.[lxiii] True to their tendencies, Baptists once again found themselves in a disagreement with one another. But even in the midst of their contradictory theories, they were both benefactors and beneficiaries for much greater freedoms pertaining to religion in American society.

Conclusion

Despite the marketplace of opinions concerning whether or not America got the religious liberty issue right, the Baptists’ simultaneous, parallel revolution was essentially accomplished. The Congregationalists in the North, in time at least, would shrink considerably, leading to the disestablishment of religion there. The Middle Colonies were already tolerant. And the establishment of Anglicanism in the South could not withstand the powerful unity of Madison, Jefferson, and company. By 1804, Baptists tallied nearly 24,000 members from 312 churches, a truly amazing growth rate when considering the meager total of 25 congregations in 1740.[lxiv] Just as debates take place today between scholars regarding whom the main “winners” and “losers” of the American Revolution were, after considering the basic attainment of desired liberties and the stunning numerical growth, the evidence appears to be in heavy favor of declaring the Baptists to be the victors of their own simultaneous, parallel revolution for religious liberty. And some would even add that their victory was America’s victory as well.

[i] Bill J. Leonard, Baptists in America (New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2005), 2.

 

[ii] The exact origins of Baptist beginnings are debated, though the view of “The outgrowth of English Separatism” in the early 1600s is probably the most feasible. With this in mind, while the influence of the 16th century Anabaptists was probably significant, the movement begun by John Smyth and Thomas Helwys (General Baptists) preceded the Particular Baptists by no more than twenty years. See H. Leon McBeth, The Baptist Heritage (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1987), 32-44; 49-63.

[iii] Thomas S. Kidd, God of Liberty (New York, NY: Basic Books, 2010), 24.

 

[iv] The term “revolution,” in the eighteenth century, was understood in the sense of “revolving from one point of reference back to it,” just as Kepler viewed the “elliptical movement of celestial bodies around the sun.” Taking Patrick Griffin’s understanding of revolution centering on the importance of sovereignty, Baptists considered religious freedom as a sovereignty issue worth fighting for, or at least an issue pertaining to the freedom of conscience. Patrick Griffin, America’s Revolution (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2013), xiii.

 

[v] Note especially Mark Noll’s comments on the distinction between Whig and Baptist values: “It is evident, however, that the controlling ideas with which Backus and many Baptists approached the American Revolution were not those of the Christian Whigs. For the Baptists, ‘liberty of conscience’ had very little to do with the fear of economic or political slavery. It had, on the other hand, very much to do with religious, moral, and spiritual freedom. The ideology which governed the participation of Isaac Backus and the Baptists in the Revolutionary era was one that could not be assimilated into the patterns of Whig Christianity. Even after they had become open Patriots, most Baptists continued to be concerned for spiritual affairs. Through their spokesman, Isaac Backus, they continued to distinguish religious from civil goals and to preserve the distinction between Patriotism and Christianity.” Mark A. Noll, Christians in the American Revolution. 2nd edition (Vancouver, BC: Regent College Publishing, 2006), 87.

 

[vi] Thomas S. Kidd, God of Liberty, 40.

 

[vii] William H. Backney, Baptists in North America (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2006), 12-13.

 

[viii] Roger Williams, The Bloudy Tennent of Persecution in H. Leon McBeth, ed., A Sourcebook for Baptist Heritage (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1990), 90.

 

[ix] Bill J. Leonard, Baptists in America, 14.

 

[x] Quoted in Ibid., 159.

 

[xi] John Russell, A Brief Narrative [1680] in H. Leon McBeth, ed., A Sourcebook for Baptist Heritage (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1990), 100.

 

[xii] Kidd, God of Liberty, 44.

 

[xiii] Backney, Baptists in North America, 40.

 

[xiv] Ibid., 41.

 

[xv] Ibid., 18-19.

 

[xvi] Gerald L. Priest, “The Abel Morgans’s Contribution to Baptist Ecclesiology in Colonial America” Detroit Baptist Theological Seminary Journal 8:1 (Fall 2003), 49.

 

[xvii] Backney, Baptists in North America, 20.

 

[xviii] Gerald L. Priest, “The Abel Morgans’s Contribution to Baptist Ecclesiology in Colonial America” Detroit Baptist Theological Seminary Journal 8:1 (Fall 2003), 67.

 

[xix] Frank Lambert, The Founding Fathers and the Place of Religion in America (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2003), 5.

 

[xx] Mark A. Noll, A History of Christianity in the United States and Canada (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1992), 91.

 

[xxi] Charles Chauncy, “Seasonable Thoughts on the State of Religion.” Cited in http://nationalhumanitiescenter.org/pds/becomingamer/ideas/text2/clergymendebate.pdf [accessed December 16, 2014].

[xxii] Backney, Baptists in North America, 28.

 

[xxiii] Kidd, God of Liberty, 23.

 

[xxiv] Lambert, The Founding Fathers and the Place of Religion in America, 180.

 

[xxv] Thomas S. Kidd, God of Liberty, 24.

 

[xxvi] McBeth, The Baptist Heritage, 204.

 

[xxvii] Ibid., 205-206.

 

[xxviii] McBeth, The Baptist Heritage, 206-208; Noll, Christians in the American Revolution, 43.

 

[xxix] William G. McLoughlin, Isaac Backus and the American Pietistic Tradition (Boston, MA: Little & Brown, 1967), 231.

 

[xxx] Noll, Christians in the American Revolution, 56.

 

[xxxi] Leonard, Baptists in America, 157.

 

[xxxii] Thomas S. Kidd, God of Liberty (New York, NY: Basic Books, 2010), 60.

 

[xxxiii] Ibid., 62.

 

[xxxiv] Ibid., 18.

 

[xxxv] Noll, Christians in the American Revolution, 85.

 

[xxxvi] Quoted in Mark A. Noll, America’s God: From Jonathan Edwards to Abraham Lincoln (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2002), 82.

 

[xxxvii] Noll, Christians in the American Revolution, 85.

 

[xxxviii] Jon Butler, “James Ireland, John Leland, John ‘Swearing Jack’ Waller, and the Baptist Campaign for Religious Freedom in Revolutionary Virginia,” in Alfred F. Young, Gary B. Nash, and Ray Raphael, eds., Revolutionary Founders (New York, NY: Knopf, 2011), 172.

 

[xxxix] Rhys Isaac, The Transformation of Virginia: 1740-1790 (Chapel Hill, NC: The University of North Carolina Press, 1982), 168-169.

 

[xl] For examples of loyalism, Noll specifies a couple of instances: “In New England a few Baptists joined the British forces under Burgoyne at the battle of Bennington in April, 1777. The sons of Baptist elder Clark Rogers of Hancock, Massachusetts, sided with the Tories, and two Baptist elders in Newport, Rhode Island, refused to sign a loyalty oath to the independent colony in July, 1776.” Likewise Backney notes, “In Philadelphia, the most illustrious Baptist to declare Loyalist sympathies was Morgan Edwards…In 1775 he was forced by peers to recant.” Additionally, in regards to pacificism, “A very few New England Baptists, including elder Peleg Burroughs of Tiverton, Massachusetts, saw all war as sinful and denounced the Revolution.” Noll, Christians in the American Revolution, 118, 146; Backney, Baptists in North America, 30.

 

[xli] Mark A. Noll, A History of Christianity in the United States and Canada, 144-145.

 

[xlii] Kidd, God of Liberty, 171-172.

 

[xliii] Ibid., 171-172, 174-175.

 

[xliv] Jon Butler, “James Ireland, John Leland, John ‘Swearing Jack’ Waller, and the Baptist Campaign for Religious Freedom in Revolutionary Virginia,” in Alfred F. Young, Gary B. Nash, and Ray Raphael, eds., Revolutionary Founders (New York, NY: Knopf, 2011), 169.

 

[xlv] Kevin Phillips, 1775: A Good Year for Revolution (New York, NY: Viking, 2012), 188.

 

[xlvi] Kidd, God of Liberty, 52.

 

[xlvii] Ibid., 54.

 

[xlviii] Noll, A History of Christianity in the United States and Canada, 134.

 

[xlix] Kidd, God of Liberty, 38.

 

[l] Ibid., 184-185. Kidd also notes, “The 1786 State for Establishing Religious Freedom did not end the controversy over church-state relations in Virginia. Baptists and others continued to push for Episcopalians to lose the benefits of their previously established status, especially their glebes…In an effort led once again by Madison, the state authorized the seizure and sale of the Episcopal glebes in 1802.”

 

[li] Quoted in Butler, “James Ireland, John Leland, John ‘Swearing Jack’ Waller, and the Baptist Campaign for Religious Freedom in Revolutionary Virginia,” 182.

 

[lii] Quoted in Ibid.

 

[liii] Quoted in Noll, A History of Christianity in the United States and Canada, 135.

 

[liv] Quoted in Ibid., 146-147.

 

[lv] “Query XVII.” Cited in Thomas Jefferson, Writings (New York, NY: The Library of America, 1984), 285.

 

[lvi] “Query XVII.” Cited in Ibid., 286-287.

 

[lvii] Kidd describes Jefferson’s interaction with Baltimore Baptists: “In a letter to the Baltimore Baptist Association written while he was president, he cited their common commitment to religious liberty and returned their payers for him with ‘supplications to the same almighty being for your future welfare and that of our beloved country.’” Kidd, God of Liberty, 241.

 

[lviii] “To Messrs. Nehemiah Dodge and Others, a Committee of the Danbury Baptist Association, in the State of Connecticut,” in Jefferson, Writings, 510.

 

[lix] William McLoughlin, Soul Liberty: The Baptists’ Struggle in New England, 1630-1833 (Hanover, NH: Brown University Press, 1991), 245-246.

 

[lx] Isaac Backus, “Isaac Backus: Civil Government and Religious Taxes” in The Annals of America: Volume 2, 1775-1783 (Chicago, IL: Encyclopaedia Britannica, Inc., 1968), 366.

 

[lxi] John Leland, The Writings of the Late Elder John Leland, ed. L.F. Greene (New York, NY: G.W. Wood, 1845), 184.

 

[lxii] Quoted in Kidd, God of Liberty, 179.

 

[lxiii] Ibid., 214, 217.

 

[lxiv] Noll, America’s God, 149.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pilgram Marpeck’s Peace in Augsburg

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Pilgram Marpeck’s Peace in Augsburg

In 1555, Charles V agreed to a treaty with members of the Schmalkadic League to institute what is now referred to as the “Peace of Augsburg.” This treaty provided Lutherans with religious toleration under specified districts via the principle of Cuius regio, eius religio, but it by no means authorized religious pluralism, or even freedom of religion for other Protestants, such as those in the Zwinglian reform movement.[1] The Anabaptists knew quite personally the difficulties facing those who espoused neither the Roman Catholic faith nor the tenets of Lutheranism. As noted by Harold J. Grimm, “It is difficult to classify the various movements of the radical reformers, especially because they seemed to spring up almost simultaneously wherever conditions permitted, and their leaders, persecuted in one place, would appear at another.”[2] Pilgram Marpeck, though not as famous among reformers such as Martin Luther or John Calvin, was one of the most influential Anabaptists in the sixteenth century. He died in 1556, just one year after the Peace of Augsburg’s signing, and had been living in Augsburg for the final twelve years of his life.[3] Contrary to many prominent figures in church history that have, for their careers, served in an ecclesiastical office, Marpeck worked as a civil engineer. This research will attempt to demonstrate how Marpeck managed to utilize his occupation for the advantage of spreading his religious convictions. Overall, it will be argued that his skillful craftsmanship allowed him to have the greatest possible amount of acceptance from non-Anabaptist civic leaders during a historical context that shunned alternative religious sects.

An Evaluation of Anabaptist Historiography

Before analyzing primary and secondary sources to arrive at conclusions concerning Pilgram Marpeck’s religious toleration, it will be necessary to evaluate the different historiographical positions pertaining to Anabaptist identification. Sebastian Franck, a contemporary of Marpeck, who was the first historian to have written on the Radical Reformation, admitted, “Even though all sects are divided among themselves, the Anabaptists are especially torn and disunited, so much so, indeed, that I can say nothing with certainty or any degree of finality about them.”[4] Since Marpeck’s time, historians have managed to sort out many of the details in Anabaptist history, though there are certainly different interpretations. James R. Coggins, in the latter part of the twentieth century, provided one of the most comprehensive overviews of Anabaptist historiography.[5] He described five historiographical schools of thought: (1) The Protestants, (2) the Marxists, (3) the Goshen School/Benderites, (4) the New Mennonites, and (5) the Syncretists.

Protestant Reformers, as Coggins notes, who were opposed to the Anabaptists especially highlighted the extremists in Anabaptism, such as Thomas Müntzer and the Zwickau prophets, and explains that the reformers’ views were believed over the marginalized Anabaptists.[6] However, as William R. Estep notes, C.A. Cornelius was one of the first historians in the nineteenth century to reevaluate the Anabaptists.[7] Thus, this first category may be better defined as “Non-Anabaptist.” The Marxist historiographers, according to Coggins, still talked much about the more radical Anabaptists, but considered their actions as being positive. Discussions of social class were at the forefront as well.[8] Harold J. Grimm hints at this interpretation by stating, “The political, economic, and social teachings of the Anabaptists, ranging from opposition to tithes and the taking of interest to Christian communism, reflected lower-class interests.”[9] The first two views are limited in the source material they implement, which erroneously focused almost entirely on the extremist Münsterites, a small sect within the Radical Reformation as a whole.

To gain a familiarity with the Goshen School/Benderites, none other than Harold Bender himself offers valuable insights into this school of thought. He is perhaps best known for his proclamation, “The Anabaptist Vision,” which included the following address:

There can be no question but that the great principles of freedom of conscience, separation of church and state, and voluntarism in religion, so basic in American Protestantism and so essential to democracy, ultimately are derived from the Anabaptists of the Reformation period, who for the first time clearly enunciated them and challenged the Christian world to follow them in practice.[10]

Meanwhile, New Mennonite historiographers, Although similar to the Goshen/Bender view, offer some important clarifications. George H. Williams, for example, distinguished the three groups of the radical Reformation as having been Anabaptists, spiritualists, and evangelical rationalists. Furthermore, “discipleship soteriology,” which was basically seen as a “continuation of medieval asceticism,” was stressed to show how Anabaptists were committed—even more than other Christians from the Reformation era—to matters of holiness.[11] Views three and four—the Goshen School/Benderites and New Mennonites—are so similar to one another that it is hard to fit the writings of a particular historian into one historiographical position or the other. Interestingly, even some modern-day Baptist scholars, especially in America, are Benderites who extol the work and beliefs of the Anabaptists, so much that the Anabaptists are hard to distinguish from modern American evangelicals.[12] Such a method is a bit questionable. However, the Goshen School/Benderites as well as the New Mennonites have contributed in immense ways to how historians and non-academics alike have come to understand the beliefs and practices of the Anabaptists.

More recently, Syncretist historiographers have looked beyond the writings of the Anabaptists themselves to allow for a wider scope of applicable source material. These historians, mostly Canadian and European (as opposed to the Goshen/Bender view, a predominately American historiographical school of thought), have attempted to “reconcile the Mennonite and Marxist views of Anabaptist history.”[13] Much of their emphasis concerns the differences among Anabaptists, particularly after the Schleitheim Confession of 1527. Thus, interpreters currently have different options to choose from when analyzing topics related to Anabaptist history. It will be proposed within this research, nevertheless, that the New Mennonite historiographical position provides the best framework for comprehending the significance of Pilgram Marpeck’s ideological motivations for seeking toleration in Augsburg.[14] However, Syncretist historiographers have also supplied Anabaptist historians with valuable insights for understanding the social factors of the Radical Reformation, such as sectarianism and the spread of ideas.

Marpeck’s Life Leading Up to Augsburg

The journey of Marpeck’s life that would eventually end in Augsburg is filled with both ordinary and extraordinary events. Marpeck was born and raised in the city of Rattenberg just a couple of decades prior to Martin Luther’s movements of reform in Wittenberg. His family lived comfortably, but once he entered into his career as a civil engineer, Marpeck earned a substantial income and his family “accumulated a considerable legacy.”[15] He accepted his appointment to become Rattenberg’s mining magistrate on April 20, 1525, a duty he would fulfill until January of 1528.[16] In that very month, an Anabaptist named Leonhard Schiemer was executed for his faith. It seems that Rattenberg’s leadership did not support Emperor Ferdinand’s mandate, and it was this command that likely led to Marpeck’s decision to resign as mining magistrate.[17] Marpeck fled his hometown as a religious refugee by April in order to avoid Ferdinand’s warning of executing all Anabaptists in the city.[18] He had possibly become one of the “heretics” during Schiemer’s imprisonment in Augsburg, though it is hard to tell with certainty.

Having witnessed the severest form of religious persecution in Rattenberg with the execution of Schiemer, Marpeck seems to have found security in the small town of Austerlitz. As Martin Rothkegel, an Anabaptist historian with Syncretist leanings, writes:

Marpeck’s activity as an Anabaptist leader—or, more precisely, the two documented phases of his activity from 1528 to 1532 and from 1540 to 1556—should be understood as part of a larger effort to establish an Anabaptist ‘church’ initiated by the Anabaptist congregation in Austerlitz (Slavkov u Brna) in Moravia, also known as the ‘Austerlitz Brethren,’ whose early history from 1528 to 1531 played an important role in the narrative of the Hutterite chronicles.[19]

Rothkegel backs up the claim that the South German Marpeck network of people was indeed the founding group of the “Austerlitz Brethren” by citing a report from Johann Weisenkircher, which was found in the Regensburg archives.[20] Marpeck did not stay in Austerlitz past the summer, and Syncretist scholars in addition to Rothkegel, such as Werner Packull and John D. Roth, argue that his departure to the city of Strasbourg was not for religious protection, but was, in fact, commissioned by the Austerlitz Brethren to serve as an elder of an Anabaptist congregation.[21]

In reference to Marpeck’s stay in Strasbourg, Harold Bender, the historiographical progenitor of the Goshen School, is helpful in describing how Marpeck managed to gain the respect of those in the city: “Pilgram Marpeck’s four years of relatively unhindered life and ministry as an Anabaptist leader in Strasbourg can thus be explained in the light of a very complex and fluid religious situation in the city, and the tolerance of Burgomaster Sturm and the Council, as well as by the need for his engineering services.”[22] Strasbourg was more lenient towards Anabaptists than most cities at the time, but it would appear that Marpeck’s usefulness to the people as a skilled engineer made him, though a “stubborn heretic” according Martin Bucer, a valuable member of the community.[23] And yet, after much theological engagement with the city’s leaders, particularly Martin Bucer, Marpeck was banished. Marpeck’s views of separation between church and state can be found in his Confession of 1532, written as he prepared to leave:

I admit worldly, carnal, and earthly rulers as servants of God, in earthly matters, but not in the kingdom of Christ; according to the words of Paul, to them rightfully belongs all carnal honor fear, obedience, tax, toll, and tribute. However, when such persons who hold authority become Christians (which I heartily wish and pray for), they may not use the aforementioned carnal force, sovereignty, or ruling in the kingdom of Christ…Because of this recognition, I conclude before my God that worldly power, for all its work, is not needed in the kingdom of Christ, whose kingdom is not of this world, and I further conclude that all who attempt to preserve the kingdom of Christ by stooping to the government authority will be punished for it and come to shame. For our citizenship is in heaven.[24]

For the next twelve years, however, Marpeck’s earthly citizenship seems to have been largely undetectable, as he moved from one place to another in Switzerland and Moravia fairly regularly.[25]

Marpeck’s Arrival in Augsburg

In 1544, Marpeck arrived to the city of Augsburg with fine timing. Augsburg’s city records tell of Marpeck being hired to assist in their wood shortage and to repair the water flumes.[26] William Estep, a Goshen School/Benderite or possibly New Mennonite historiographer, says the following about Marpeck’s acceptance in Augsburg: “That [Marpeck] was an active Anabaptist was known to the council and the cause of frequent reprimands. Apparently, he was too valuable a man for the city to lose.”[27] Augsburg had a rather early presence of Anabaptism, housing major leaders such as Balthasar Hübmaier, Hans Denck, and Wilhelm Reublin.[28] However, both an imperial mandate and the city council at Augsburg prohibited Anabaptism by 1527, and continued this ban through the 1520s and 1530s.[29] By the following decade, Caspar Schwenckfeld, a theological opponent but fellow Anabaptist, was surprised of Marpeck’s toleration, having stated, “Leonhard Hieber writes that Marpeck had to present his book to the Council. I did not think that he was there any more. Thus it sometimes happens when it is to your benefit, otherwise the Council would hardly give him shelter.”[30] Therefore, the causality for Marpeck’s admittance into the community of Augsburg is an apparent anomaly.

Marpeck’s Peace in Augsburg

Marpeck’s own words provide key insights concerning his views of how an Anabaptist ought to live in a society that is religiously opposed to Anabaptist beliefs. In 1555, he stated, “[O]ne should be quiet and not give the authorities occasion to persecute if one meets together unnecessarily. That one should exercise moderation and discretion in such a case, to this end a government often presses out of respect for its own punishment, since they do not like to persecute us.”[31] Clearly, Marpeck intended for his “brethren” to be peaceful, despite their sharp disagreements with the beliefs of the legal religion of the land. He likewise stated, “However, if God’s honor and truth are at stake, then we are obligated to give up all and to endure all persecution unto death.”[32] Thus, Marpeck’s congregation was neither deliberately confrontational nor negligent of maintaining principles.

Such a cautious methodology may have hurt the overall potential for growth, but it is important to also remember that Anabaptists had the revolutionary stigma attached to them, thanks to the extreme actions of the Münsterites and the rather forceful personalities of others such as George Blaurock.[33] By contributing to the welfare of the city through his engineering occupation, Marpeck managed to earn a measure a trust from the Protestant leaders. And by practicing their religion tactfully, the small group of Anabaptists in Augsburg was able to continue residing there. Marpeck was warned four times about his illegal religious activity in Augsburg, but David C. Steinmetz interprets these as “wrist-tapping warnings,” since no actual discipline resulted.[34] The end goal for Marpeck, according to his writings, was that Augsburg and other cities might experience “a spiritual real justice” (geistlicher wesentlicher gerechtigkeit), which William Klassen defines as “the personal and social transformation which took place when the cross of Christ was accepted.”[35] Though he was likely unsatisfied with the few converts to Anabaptism by the end of his lifetime, Marpeck’s peace in Augsburg was secured and retained through much of his own efforts as a hard-working and vigilant citizen. When Marpeck died in 1556, he was buried to finally “rest in peace” in an Augsburg graveyard.

Conclusion

This case study of how Marpeck’s actions positively affected his ability to find modest peace in Augsburg reveals not only sociological principles for peace making, but it also opens up the discussion for how Anabaptist historiography plays a critical role in interpreting the past. Benderites/Goshen School historiographers, New Mennonites, and Syncretist scholars have been cited throughout this research. Although there are contradictions among the schools of thought, especially in relation to Anabaptist origins and identity, the topic of Marpeck’s religious toleration in Augsburg draws from multiple historiographical perspectives with relative ease. This seems to be the case due to the nature of this study. Since Benderites/Goshen School historiographers and New Mennonites focus on the religious motivations of the Anabaptists, one can observe Marpeck’s writings and numerous secondary source interpretations to see that Marpeck’s Anabaptist values were crucial to his existence. But on the other hand, Syncretist scholars add the societal dimensions necessary for such a topic. Marpeck’s peace in Augsburg, in other words, can only be accurately interpreted if both religious ideals of Pilgram Marpeck and societal factors are given a fair treatment. As James M. Stayer notes, “[The] second generation of [Syncretist] interpreters is now moving into retirement and in the last decade they have, in their turn, been criticized for undervaluing the weight and independence of religious motives behind Reformation radicalism.”[36] Syncretist historiography, therefore, is in the process of revision, but Benderites/Goshen School historiographers and New Mennonites also can learn from the Syncretists’ interpretations. Therefore, a suggestible method for future historiography is that historians take seriously the personal writings and religious underpinnings of the Anabaptists, but to supplement these foundational sources with external data, particularly in reference to the spread of ideas and the evolution of Anabaptist identity.[37]

[1] Paul M. Zulehner, “Early Modern Religion Peace Agreements: Their Effects on the Ideological Development of Europe” Society 51:6 (December 2014): 606.

[2] Harold J. Grimm, The Reformation Era, 1500-1650. 2nd ed. (New York, NY: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1973), p. 217.

[3] For a brief biographical sketch of Marpeck’s years in Augsburg, see William Klassen and Walter Klaassen, trans. and ed., The Writings of Pilgram Marpeck, (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1978), p. 39-41. [abbreviated hereafter, WPM]

[4] Quoted in Abraham Friesen, “The Radical Reformation Revisited” Journal of Mennonites Studies 2 (1984): 124.

[5] James R. Coggins, “Toward a Definition of Sixteenth-Century Anabaptism: Twentieth-Century Historiography of the Radical Reformation” Journal of Mennonite Studies 4 (1986): 183-207.

[6] Ibid., p. 184

[7] See Estep, The Anabaptist Story: An Introduction to Sixteenth-Century Anabaptism, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1996), p. 5.

[8] Coggins, “Toward a Definition of Sixteenth-Century Anabaptism,” p. 85.

[9] Grimm, The Reformation Era, 1500-1650, p. 219.

[10] Harold S. Bender, “The Anabaptist Vision” https://www.goshen.edu/mhl/Refocusing/d-av.htm [accessed July 26, 2015].

[11] Coggins, “Toward a Definition of Sixteenth-Century Anabaptism,” p. 189-196.

[12] See Malcolm B. Yarnell III, ed., The Anabaptists and Contemporary Baptists: Restoring New Testament Christianity, Essays in Honor of Paige Patterson (Nashville, TN: Broadman & Holman Publishing Group, 2013).

[13] Coggins, “Toward a Definition of Sixteenth-Century Anabaptism,” p. 196-197.

[14] For clarification, one does not need to be a practicing Mennonite to prefer this historiographical position, just as one does not necessarily espouse the economic principles of Marxism to see the value of Marxist historiography.

[15] Stephen B. Boyd confirms that Marpeck, based on tax records, was one of the highest paid city employees. Boyd, Pilgram Marpeck: His Life and Social Theology (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1992), p. 6.

[16] Ibid., p. 11-12.

[17] Michael D. Wilkinson, “Suffering the Cross: The Life, Theology, and Significance of Leonhard Schiemer” in Malcolm B. Yarnell III, ed., The Anabaptists and Contemporary Baptists, p. 51-52.

[18] See John D. Roth, “Marpeck and the Later Swiss Brethren, 1540-1700” in Roth and Stayer, eds., Brill’s Companions to the Christian Tradition, Volume 6 [abbreviated hereafter, BCCT] (Boston, MA: Brill, 2007), p. 357.

[19] Martin Rothkegel, “Pilgram Marpeck and the Fellows of the Covenant: The Short and Fragmentary History of the Rise and Decline of an Anabaptist Denominational Network,” Mennonite Quarterly Review 85 (January 2011): 8. Rothkegel’s Syncretistic historiographical approach is supported by his statement, “Marpeck may have been more sectarian than generally assumed by current scholarship.”

[20] Ibid., p. 19.

[21] Rothkegel cites Packull in Ibid., p. 24. See also John D. Roth, “Marpeck and the Later Swiss Brethren, 1540-1700” in Roth and Stayer, eds., BCCT, p. 358.

[22] Harold S. Bender, “Pilgram Marpeck” Mennonite Quarterly Review 38 (July 1964): 243.

[23] Bucer’s remarks cited in J.C. Wenger, “The Life and Work of Pilgram Marpeck, “ Mennonite Quarterly Review 12 (July 1938): 147.

[24] WPM, p. 150-151.

[25] For a discussion of his whereabouts during this period, see Rothkegel, “Pilgram Marpeck and the Fellows of the Covenant,” p. 26-27.

[26] WPM, p. 39. Estep provides the date of his employment as being May 12, 1545. Estep, The Anabaptist Story, p. 124. Thus, there was some overlap of time between his arrival and his official employment. Nevertheless, he was busy writing, having composed at least four somewhat lengthy letters in 1544, and another three in 1545. See WPM, p. 13.

[27] Estep, The Anabaptist Story, p. 124-125. “Frequent reprimands” is an overstatement, as only four warnings are recorded in the historical record.

[28] See Ibid., p. 61 and John Howard Yoder, “Balthasar Hübmaier and the Beginnings of Swiss Anabaptism” Mennonite Quarterly Review 33 (January 1959): 9.

[29] Michele Zelinsky Hanson, Religious Identity in an Early Reformation Community: Augsburg, 1517 to 1555 (Boston, MA: Brill, 2007), p. 80-82.

[30] WPM, p. 40.

[31] Ibid., p. 514.

[32] Ibid.

[33] At a service in Zollikon, for example, Blaurock shockingly told the minister in the presence of the congregation, “You were not sent to preach, it was I.” See Estep, The Anabaptist Story, p. 50.

[34] David C. Steinmetz, Reformers in the Wings: From Geiler von Kaysersberg to Theodore Beza. 2nd ed. (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2001), p. 157.

[35] William Klassen, “Pilgram Marpeck and Our Use of Power” The Conrad Grebel Review 17:1 (Winter 1999): 45.

[36] James M. Stayer, “Introduction” in Roth and Stayer, eds., BCCT, 1521-1700, p. xiii.

[37] For example, Martin Rothkegel’s work, as already cited in this research, on the identity of the Austerlitz Brethren provides a helpful sociological background to Marpeck’s life, but it cannot adequately explain his religious motivations, which were arguably the central driving force behind his actions. Marpeck’s own writings would support such a claim: “It is only that God in His love takes pleasure in us His children, and we receive everything from the Father in Christ. It is this love alone which motivates us to perform the services of Christ to one another by grace…We do not serve ourselves but rather serve to the praise of God and our own salvation, because the Lord Himself has served us.” WPM, p. 553.