Twice during the month of May, church bells thundered and shook the ground around me.

At Rome: 

Ellen and I arrived at Rome on May 8 to visit Roman imperial and early Christian sites. Late in the afternoon we explored Trastevere (“Across the Tiber”), a section of ancient Rome where many first-century Jews and Christians (such as recipients of the book of Romans) lived. We entered the church of Santa Cecilia, built where tradition says third-century martyr Cecilia once lived. 

Unexpectedly, the bell tower of Santa Celicia burst forth with pealing commotion. Bells from churches in all directions resounded across Rome. A new pope had been chosen! Anabaptist though we are, Ellen and I appreciated Pope Francis and hoped for a new pope of comparable courage and vision. 

At Zürich: 

Three weeks later, on May 29, we again heard thundering bells. This time it was at Zürich, where 3000 Mennonites/Anabaptists from more than one hundred national churches had gathered for the 500^th anniversary of the beginnings of the Anabaptist movement. 

In 1525, Protestant reformers across Europe were seeking to align church belief and practice more closely to scripture. Huldrych Zwingli, priest at the Grossmünster church in Zürich, emerged as the leading reformer of Switzerland. In contrast to traditional Catholic mass, Zwingli preached sequentially from texts as they appear in the Bible, starting with the Gospel of Matthew. 

This inspired Zwingli to make various changes in church life. He rejected fasting, the use of images or music in worship, and the veneration of saints. Unbaptized children do not go to hell, he declared, raising questions about the appropriateness of baptizing infants.

Zwingli pursued church reform in tandem with the Zürich city council. When the council insisted that infant baptism continue in Zürich, Zwingli obeyed. But a small circle of Zwingli’s young followers—who would become the first Anabaptists (“re-baptizers”)—did not. Several gathered in secret on January 21, 1525, to (re)baptize each other—effectively rejecting the validity of infant baptism. 

Debates between Zwingli and Anabaptists followed. Then in 1526 the city council ruled that anyone who rebaptized and remained in the city could face the death penalty. On January 5, 1527, the Anabaptist Felix Manz was publicly drowned in the Limmat river within sight of the Grossmünster church. A few other Anabaptists also faced execution at Zürich—in each case by authority of the city, not the church. Zwingli did not protest.

Reconciliation and healing

“As late as 1952,” says the current Mayor of Zürich Corine Mauch, “the city government . . . refused to commemorate” the execution of Anabaptists. “Fortunately, this finally changed in 2004” when representatives of the city and the Reformed Church in Zürich helped dedicate a memorial plaque on banks of the Limmat river. “They acknowledged the injustice of the past, and they apologized on behalf of the city and the church.”

More recently there have been in-depth conversations between Reformed and Anabaptist theologians. These respectful exchanges fostered fraternal relationships that allowed for the 500^th anniversary commemoration of Anabaptism to take place at the Grossmünster.

And what a remembering it was! The worship service featured Anabaptist choirs from various parts of the globe, attendance by representatives of many other denominations, and foot washing between Mennonite World Conference leader César García and World Council of Reformed Churches leader Setri Nyomi. There was a letter of greeting from Pope Leo read by the venerable Cardinal Koch and glorious congregational singing—all in a packed sanctuary with a thousand outside watching by video.

(See a video of the entire service at https://mwc-cmm.org/en/zurich-livestream/ )

I had a small part in the service (giving context to the foot washing), and had a seat I didn’t deserve—front row just off center aisle. When the service ended, a parade of choirs—mostly young adults—recessed down the center aisle and out into an adjacent plaza. They and all the congregation sang, “Siyahamba . . . We are marching in the light of God . . . !” Scores of choir members formed a double line through which all attendees then marched. Being among the first out of the Grossmünster, I took the attached photograph.

What a catharsis! The Grossmünster belfry pealed continuously for ten or fifteen minutes. Everyone in the packed plaza rejoiced. We sang, clapped, laughed, shed tears, and some danced. The mighty bells kept up a vigorous roar. 

I can’t say what the bells were supposed to mean, but I can tell you what I heard: People of the Anabaptist and the Reformed traditions are grateful to have addressed a painful passage of our past. We celebrate respect and love between our traditions. The Grossmünster seemed to be telling Zürich and the world that mistakes were made in the past and this is a new beginning. Forgiveness is life-giving for all involved. 

Now may Anabaptists, with our lamentable predisposition to fracture, learn the meaning of humility, repentance, reconciliation and unity from our Reformed (and Lutheran, and Catholic) sisters and brothers. Soli Deo gloria!