Waging Peace Not War

In the 17th century, many Mennonites migrated to Canada and North America to participate in the great experiment of William Penn. The following introduction provides a glimpse into the situations Mennonites faced as they tried to live out their faith in a new land, where people sometimes misunderstood them. In 1677, an intelligent and compassionate Quaker was given a large tract of land by King Charles II. It seems that the king owed a debt to this brilliant gentleman. King Charles presented William Penn with a large tract of land in North America with one condition: he had to call part of it Pennsylvania.

William Penn had a passion for fairness. He had learned about Europe’s despised religious minorities while on a preaching tour. Perhaps this land he now owned could be used to conduct a holy experiment. People of any religion could settle in this new land, and have complete freedom of worship. People would live together in harmony, believing as their conscience mandated. There would be no taxes for war. War would be unnecessary in Penn’s beloved land. Penn soon established himself as a friend to the Delaware Indians (hence the name of a U.S. state bordering Pennsylvania), Quakers, Brethren, Amish, Hutterites, and Mennonites. The persecuted would find refuge in Penn’s far-off land.

People flocked to Pennsylvania. Penn helped to settle the town of Philadelphia, which he fondly called "the city of brotherly love." Several Mennonite and Quaker families settled in a tiny village near Philadelphia. This town became known as Germantown, although most of its inhabitants spoke Dutch. Many of these people had deep roots in Germany. Traveling across the seas to North America was an adventure to some and an ordeal to others. Much depended upon weather conditions, the general health of one’s traveling companions and condition of the vessel.

As more Mennonite and Quaker settlers arrived from Europe, these Christians became disturbed about the practice of slavery. The following excerpt is from an account written in the diary of a Quaker tailor named John Woolman. It tells of a Mennonite man’s encounter with a friend who kept slaves on his property in Pennsylvania. This man went to visit a farmer some distance away. When he arrived at his friend’s house, he was dismayed to see slaves around the place. They were sitting or sleeping around a fire outdoors. The Mennonite didn’t feel right about going into the house, while the slaves had to sleep outside. So he lay down with them and spent the night there. The next morning, when he met the owner of the farm, there was an outburst of surprise. "Why didn’t you come in? You know you were welcome!" protested the farmer. "As I lay by the fire," replied the Mennonite, "I thought that since I am a person of some possessions, you would have received me freely; but if I had been as poor as one of your slaves, and had no power to help myself, I would have gotten from you no kinder treatment than they did."

Most Mennonites disapproved of slavery. Yet there were some Mennonite families whose conscience allowed them to own slaves to work the land. Most of the people’s energies were consumed with settling this new world and living out their faith in peace. The Quakers, Mennonites, Amish, and Brethren were quite different from one another in many ways. Yet they all refused to use weapons, resisted making oaths, dressed plainly, and emphasized the community of believers as the church of Christ (instead of a building). The Mennonites published their statement of faith in English and also printed a document that explained why they were called to be "weaponless servants of Christ."

Families of Quakers, Amish, Brethren, and Mennonites continued to flourish. These Anabaptist groups were industrious. People from other religious backgrounds struggled to understand the Anabaptist stance for peace and nonviolence. It was difficult to comprehend the concept of weaponless people in light of their considerable wealth. Could it be that they had nothing for which to fight? What would happen if they had cause to fight for something worthwhile? Would they come out with fists flying, guns blasting–or would the Anabaptists stand firm on their articulated beliefs? Would they remain the quiet in the land when threatened? Their pioneer neighbors had opportunity to discover exactly what the Mennonites, Quakers, Brethren, and Amish people believed, as the Revolutionary War began. All able–bodied men were ordered to join in the military effort. Many Mennonite, Quaker, Brethren, and Amish men tried to stay away from such worldly activities. They wanted people to remain "defenseless"–meaning that God would defend them. God would take care of their enemies. God would have the last word.

The following excerpt is found in the pages of ‘Twas Seeding Time by John Ruth: One young Mennonite learned to keep his mouth shut, several weeks after the news of bloodshed at Lexington and Concord had reached his community in York County. He had been helping at a house-raising, when a local tavern–keeper named Michael Smyser announced that all the able–bodied men at the frolic were required to join some militia company, or else "be ranked among the Tories." The Mennonite youth then spoke up and advised against such warlike "mustering," saying it would lead to actions that would later be regretted.

Mr. Smyser, who was also a militia captain, angrily stormed into the town of York, registered a complaint with the new County Committee of Observation (like a draft board), and secured from them a request for the immediate appearance before them of the Mennonite war critic. When the sobered young fellow had been hastily summoned from the frolic, the chairman, Colonel Thomas Hartley, first had Captain Smyser repeat the charges. Then he asked the accused what he had to say for himself. The only reply was that he had not considered his comments to have been injurious to anyone, in intent or effect. After the committee consulted, briefly, Colonel Hartley announced that the young Mennonite was to be considered "an enemy to his country," and that, as a Tory, he was to be tarred and feathered.

This was just the kind of amusement a collection of local men and boys would welcome. Someone had already set a tar box, of the type carried on wagons, in front of the courthouse. One boy had mischievously brought along a feather-stuffed pillow. But when the young Mennonite, under orders from the committee, came and stood beside the tarbox, no one, including the boys, would approach him to apply the tar. Only one of the committee, an exceptionally rough man, had stayed to observe the results of their orders. A bystander concluded that the other committee members were ashamed of the proceedings, and had thus disappeared. Finally the man stated that the defenseless young critic must tar himself if no one else would do so. To this ridiculous order, the victim actually responded, taking off his jacket and shirt. He had obediently stuck his fingers into the tar and was dabbing it on his shoulder when several of the boys, their sympathies somewhat mixed, called out that he should let the man who had given the order do the tarring himself. This brought the proceedings to a brief standstill. The sticky–fingered young Mennonite looked dubiously over the crowd for a moment, and one of them suggested that he pick up his jacket and shirt and go home. He immediately took this advice, and began walking down the middle of the street. At this, someone ripped open the pillow and half-heartedly hurled the feathers after him, but none seemed to stick. A few small fellows traipsed behind him for awhile, but by the time he had walked a hundred yards, he was alone, and no mob had formed (pp. 51-53).

Things got worse for Brethren, Mennonite and Quaker pacifists. The Pennsylvania Assembly wanted each non-associator (any able-bodied man who refused to fight in the war) to pay a special tax that would go toward financing the war effort. Many Mennonite and Quaker leaders felt that they could not, in good conscience, pay the tax. In giving money to fund the war, they would be killing people indirectly. In the winter of 1775, Quakers, Mennonites, and Brethren wrote a letter to clarify their beliefs. This letter was addressed to the Pennsylvania Assembly (something like our present state senate). In this letter, these religious groups summarized their reasons for coming to Pennsylvania: land, guarantee of religious liberty, and promise of no war. These followers of Christ spoke of their commitment to serve all people in everything that could be helpful to the preservation of lives. They suggested that their freedom was in Jesus Christ. "But we find no freedom in giving, or doing, or assisting in anything by which men’s lives are destroyed or hurt." The good brothers wrote of aiding people in distress, feeding the hungry, and giving drink to the thirsty. They requested leniency from the Pennsylvania Assembly in honoring their requests to be exempt from all aspects of the war effort (donating money and bearing arms).

The assembly responded by making things even tougher for pacifists. "Why should these gentlemen withdraw their persons and their fortunes from the service of their country at a time when their country stands most in need of them?" many government officials asked. "If they are not going to fight, we will make them pay!" And pay they did. Some people paid the new taxes that were enforced on a regular basis for persons refusing to fight in the war. Others paid by losing property. Many went to prison. Others lost their lives. The war continued. All men–young and old–were forced to seriously consider their beliefs. There was a price for following one’s conscience in those days. That price remains even today.

Anabaptist History: Waging Peace–Not War