Dear Friends,
With this issue, our Newsletter begins its fourth year of publication-
with
gratitude for your continuing interest and support. Your letters
of
encouragement for this endeavour have been much appreciated, and
would seem
to indicate that trying out this new form of technology has been
useful in
transmitting information and opinions around the world. My hope
that this
service would extender horizons, and deepen our awareness of the
significance of contemporary Church History, has only been confirmed
by
the generous way in which so many of you have sent in contributions.
At the
same time, I believe this shows that our discipline is a vibrant
one, as is
surely demonstrated by the wide range of new publications and
conferences in
this field. In an attempt to summarize my impressions over the
past years, I
am, for the first time, taking the liberty of submitting to you
an Editorial
on the present state of Contemporary Church History.
Contents: 1) Editorial 2) Query to the list - Rob Levy 3) Note
on Religious
Education in Germany 4) Book Reviews: a) Silomon, Synode und SED
Staat b)
Laechele, Ein Volk,ein Reich, ein Glaube 5) Coming to terms with
the past in
Jena
1) Editorial:In one of his sprightly addresses to the British
Ecclesiastical
History Society, Professor Reg Ward provocatively remarked: "Nineteenth
century critics were entirely mistaken in supposing that political
economy
was the dismal science; it is in fact ecclesiastical history.
Goethe had a
word for it: 'Es ist die ganze Kirchengeschichte Mischmasch von
Irrtum und
Gewalt.' "Not too many of the readers of this Newsletter
will be likely
to agree with Reg Ward or Goethe. But perhaps it is time to consider
some
features of our occupation sine ira et studio.In the past, contemporary
church history, like most of church history, has been affected
by two rather
obvious but often overlooked factors. The first of these is the
tendency
to hagiography. All institutions, of course, with a long and rich
heritage
have a continuing desire to celebrate and to hand on to the next
generation
the stories of their illustrious predecessors. The Church, as
one of Europe's
most enduring institutions, knew very well, from the earliest
times, that the
lives of the saints of yester-year were a highly effective form
of
inspirational literature. But in modern times, the growth of a
more
scientific and sceptical treatment of the past has shown the defects
of such
a hagiographical approach. Today we are well enough aware that
the claims of
the church to be heard can no longer be based on spectacular miracles
or
divine intervention. This legacy is one of the reasons why church
history,
including its contemporary dimension, is so often dismissed by
secular
historians. Church historians have to work hard to show that their
commitment
to scholarly objectivity is not being distorted by the strength
or the biases
of their faith.The second observable factor about contemporary
church
history is that of narrowness of horizons. Too often, its practitioners
have demonstrated a regrettable tendency to limit their researches
solely to
the affairs of their own denomination. This can be seen, for example,
in the
treatment of the churches' experience during the Nazi period.
When both
Catholic and Protestants were being persecuted by the Nazis, many
forms of
resistance involved joint co-operation amongst churchmen. But
one would
hardly know this from the histories of the Church Struggle written
in the
aftermath,which have almost exclusively been composed along denominational
lines..This feature, while prevalent in every country, is
particularly notable in Germany, which has seen such a high level
of achievement in the field of theological literature. Very few
countries are
so well endowed as Germany with professional theologians and church
historians, largely due to the generous state support of the numerous
theological faculties. By comparison, in the United States, Canada,
Britain,
to say nothing of France,theological studies are poor relations
on the
academic scene, and this is reflected in the volume and quality
of their
research. But the criticism is not unjustified that, in Germany,
the
existence of separated, sometimes rival, Catholic and Protestant
theological faculties and their institutional pressures to maintain
the
blinkers of the past, has not always been in the interests of
contemporary German church historiography.Fortunately there are
now signs
that this separation is breaking down, not least because church
historians
are recognising the need to overcome the barriers between Kirchengeschichte
and Profangeschichte, and because secular historians are posing
the kind of
questions about the churches' life and social effectiveness which
require a
more ecumenical and eirenic approach.It is therefore all the more
welcome
that a new generation of church historians recognise the need
to adopt a
fresh approach which will attempt to rethink the complex relationship
between
the church and society, especially on the much discussed.questions
of modernization and secularisation I think here of those who
are now
producing the series "Konfession und Gesellschaft",
edited
by A..Doering-Manteuffel, Martin Greschat, Kurt Nowak and J-C.Kaiser,
or
those, inspired by Natalie Davis and Stephen Ozmentin the USA,
concerned
with 16th century church history.1) The stress now is on the need
to widen
the horizons of church historians by adopting the techniques of
social
historians, so that a more collaborative relationship with secular
historians
can be found. While it is still too early to predict the results,
and while
some church historians continue to believe that the principal
purpose
of church history is to provide ethical guidance for the laity,
these
new developments may be able to do something to overcome the limitations
and
restrictive thinking of the past. 1) see the insightful introduction
by
Michael Weinzierl to Vol 22 of the Wiener Beitraege zur Geschichte
der
Neuzeit,"Individualisierung, Rationalisierung, Saekularisierung.
Neue
Wege der Religionsgeschichte" 1997, as reported on the list
H-SOZ-U-KULT,
Thursday Nov 27 1997.JSC
2) Rob Levy (Washington State University, Pullman, Wash) writes:"Some
time
ago I posed a couple of questions to this list group. First, in
light of the
French Episcopate's public act of contrition over their "failure"
or guilt
towards French Jews during the Nazi occupation of France, I was
curious to
find out whether or not the German Roman Catholic Church had done
something
comparable.And secondly, I was also interested in the questions
raised by
this well-publicized event. Since the Evangelische Kirche in Deutschland's
Stuttgart Declaration of 1945 and Karl Jasper's 1946 book, what
has happened
since then? And what about the German Catholics?The list members'
responses
to my questions proved to be highly interesting and very suggestive
of issues
requiring further study.One common point raised by most who responded
was:
there has not been a survey done of this topic. I am aware of
a
PhD dissertation underway on the topic of collective guilt and
collective responsibility by Suzanne Fleming-Brown (University
of
Maryland,College Park); and there are, to be sure, works addressing
various aspects of the so-called "Schuldfrage", but
not a comprehensive
or historical review of this question.Interestingly enough, while
I was
compiling your responses to my questions, on another list (H-ANTISEMITISM),
a
woman, who recently "discovered" that she may be distantly
related to
Martin Luther, publicly apologised for her ancestor's antisemitic
remarks and
possible connection with the alleged "eliminationist"antisemitism
of
National Socialism.This touches on several aspects of the Schuldfrage.
First, it raises the question of responsibility and accountability
by
succeeding generations. Elie Wiesel's response to this woman was
that
the children of the perpetrators are not and should not be held
responsible -
even if a connection with Luther and Nazism could be made. This,
of course,
raises another set of questions: is it possible to make a teleological
connection between Luther's antisemitism and Hitler? and what
about
Protestant (or more generally Christian,including Catholic) theology
and the
Holocaust - both during and after?While I was waiting for answers
to my
original query, the Vatican held a gathering of 60 international
scholars
("Roots of Anti-Judaism in the Christian world" under
the aegis of the
Theological-Historical Commission of the Central Committee for
the
Jubilee Year 2000) to discuss strains of antisemitism within the
Church's teachings, which focussed attention on the questions
of
the Schuldfrage(n).A New York Times' article, 1 November, attributed
this
conference,in part, to the recent declaration of the French bishops
and
"a similar apology made several years ago by Germany's bishops".The
text
referred to by the NYT was a statement issued on 24 April 1995
by the German
bishops "zum Gedenken an das Ende des Zweiten Weltkrieges
vor 50 Jahren".
While this text does approach an "apology", its context,
I feel, is somewhat
diluted by attempting to equate all victims of National Socialism,
e.g.
"zahllose Soldaten"and "fast 12 Millionen Deutsche
die muessten von
der heranrueckenden Front fliehen oder wurden aus ihrer Heimat
vertrieben".
While this review of the Schuldfrage(n) has proved interesting,
I still
remain unsatisfied. I do not claim to be a theologian, nor do
I understand
the inner workings of the Church, but it seems to me that the
Church(es)
could be a little more forthcoming with a public reconciling of
its apparent
"silence" (for lack of a better word)during the Holocaust.
While I
sympathize with all the victims of Nazism and of the Second World
War, and I
dislike a hierarchy of victimization, it seems to me that the
persecution and
attempted mass murder of the European Jews constitute a unique
category
of victims. And while I remain undecided as to the concept of"collective
guilt", a complex social and moral dilemma, perhaps rephrasing
it as
"collective responsibility to the past", may be more
appropriate. Isn't that
the heart of the term"Vergangenheitsbewaeltigung"? I
would welcome any and
all in-put.I would like to thank Rev John Hughes for providing
me with
a wealth of material on this subject, and his willingness actively
to discuss
these issues."Rob Levy(Ed: Rob Levy will be glad to supply
bibliographical
references to the above. General replies can be addressed to the
whole List
=kirzeit-l@unixg.ubc.ca, or to Rob Levy = rdlevy@wsunix.wsu.edu.)
3) Note on religious education in Germany:"Denominational
religious
instruction is not an outmoded privilege of the churches, but
rather a
necessary responsibility of the secular state". Underscoring
the leading role
of the churches in "Germany's democratic order", Chancellor
Helmut Kohl
strongly endorsed the tradition of making religious education
available in
Germany's public schools in his speech at the opening of the
Evangelical Church's General Synod on Sunday 2 November. Except
in Brandenburg, German parents have the option of having their
children
receive church-supervised religious education as part of their
school
studies. Brandenburg's replacement of confessional instruction
with courses
in ethics and philosophy is a "scandal"according to
the Chancellor, who
added that he could not understand why the arguments against religious
instruction in the schools are not being challenged more vigorously.(From
This Week in Germany - November 7,1997)
4) Book reviews:a) Anke Silomon, Synode und SED-Staat. Die Synode
des
Bundes der Evangelischen Kirchen in der DDR in Goerlitz vom 18.
bis
22.September 1987. (Arbeiten zur kirchlichen Zeitgeschichte. Reihe
B:
Darstellungen Bd. 24). Goettingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht
1997. 458 pp.This
volume was produced under the auspices of the Evangelische Kirche
in
Deutschland as one response to the sensational and wounding allegations
of
complicity between the churches in the former East Germany and
the SED's
notorious agency, the Stasi.Coming to terms with the record of
the forty
years endured by the churches under Communist rule is a mammoth
task, for
which these churches, apparently, had neither the resources, nor
the will,
to undertake in a systematic and objectively scholarly fashion.
So instead,
the EKD's council agreed to publish a "Stichprobe" which
would clearly
illustrate the complexity of the relationship between church officials
and
the SED regime, and would indicate the extent to which the former
had
succumbed to, or resisted, the intrusive machinations of the latter.For
this
purpose, the deliberations of the 1987 Synod of the Federation
of East German
Churches were chosen for close scrutiny and analysis. Two young
researchers
were given the task of assessing all the available documentation,
so as to
avoid a one-sided reliance on the Stasi records alone, as had
been the case
in the much criticized book by Professor G.Besier and Stephan
Wolf,"Pfarrer,Christen und Katholiken. Das Ministerium fur
Staatssicherheit
und die Kirchen", (1991). The records of this Synod seemed
to offer the
opportunity to present a microcosm of the whole eventful period
by clearly
indicating the kind of forces and pressures which were expressed
both openly
and behind the scenes. The objective was to clarify the extent
to which
the behaviour of the churches on this particular occasion could
lend support
to the charges of subservience and collaboration with the regime,
or
alternatively justify the claim that the churches' activities
were an
integral part of the resistance movement which, two years later,
successfully
toppled the regime in what has been called the"Protestant
Revolution".The
result is now published in the prestigious series of Darstellungen
put out by
the EKD's Arbeitsgemeinschaft für kirchliche Zeitgeschichte,
which arose out
of the earlier desire to provide scholarly studies of the Protestant
churches
under National Socialism, and is now extending its work beyond
1945.In 1987
the SED appeared to be fully in command. No one foresaw its future
collapse
only two years later. Its foreign policy seemed successful, and
its control
over internal dissidents was highly developed through the vast
network of
informers deployed by the Stasi. Nevertheless the churches remained
objects
of suspicion,being allegedly manipulated or at least influenced
by West
German or other foreign opponents of the G.D.R. state. For their
part,
the churches were conscious of their increasingly problematic
situation with
markedly declining support, internal dissension, and differences
in the ranks
between their expectations and the reality they had to face. All
these
factors were to be reflected in the speeches and manoeuvring at
this meeting
in the small town of Goerlitz.One of the central, but controversial
themes of
the Synod was the question of "Witnessing for Peace".
Earlier the churches
had declared their vocal opposition to the concepts of mutual
deterrence, the
deployment of nuclear weapons and the militarisation of the education
system.
Such policies would contradict Christian doctrine, would be disastrous
for
the populations of central Europe as the first victims of any
such escalation
of military hostilities, and would further frustrate the long-held
desire of
the churches to seek reconciliation between the peoples of the
two Germanies.
The SED regime was particularly concerned lest the Synod should
be used as a
focal point for rallying resistance to its so-called "Peace
Policies". A
whole team of officials was therefore mobilized to interview Synod
delegates
in order to persuade them to adopt the "correct" ideas
needed for the"defence
of Socialism", as the SED Party saw it. The leaders of the
churches were also
to be left in no doubt about the Party's wishes,with the clear
warning that
the church meeting should not be"misused" for political
purposes, lest the
earlier "fruitful relationship" between the state and
the churches be
endangered."Negative forces" were to be kept under close
surveillance by
the Stasi's informers, including several high-ranking churchmen
(here listed
in the book's index), who were expected to send in extensive reports,
including the proposed texts to be brought forward by the alleged
"reformers'. So too the officials of the regime's fellow-travelling
Christian Democratic Party were told off to seek to influence
Synod delegates
along the right lines, and to report back. The extensive paper
trail left by
all these carefully-planned measures is here documented in the
book's
appendices. But there is no evidence at all that any delegate's
mind was
changed. The whole massive effort was a failure.The actual debates
of the
Synod, as the regime feared, soon took on a highly explosive character,
centring around the "Witness for Peace" theme. Silomon
gives a day-to-day,
blow-by-blow account with extracts from many of the speeches,
so that a
comprehensive picture emerges. On the one hand, the frustrations
and resentments of the more idealist delegates were expressed
in moral and
theological terms. On the other side, prudent caution and expediency
characterized the church leaders' responses, even when they sympathized
with
the intent. Because of the diversity of views expressed, the conclusion
can
hardly be sustained, either that the Synod delegates were all
intimidated by
the SED's pressure to be mere accomplices of the regime, nor that
the Church
stood up resolutely for revolutionary change. Rather the debates
show
a remarkably open climate of high-minded consideration for a church
caught up
in a repressive system and anxious to present a faithful and thoughtful
witness which would be true to the Gospel and responsive to perceived
needs
of their society. In other words, the delegates refused to be
cow-towed into
a pietistic self-centred concern with personal salvation, as the
regime would
have wished. On the other hand, they were also cognisant that
the pastoral
needs of their followers should not be endangered by flamboyant
challenges to
the existing political structures.Silomon's detailed account of
the Synod
itself is followed by two interesting chapters on the reactions,
first within
the churches, and then by the regime's officials. The Synod's
organisers
hoped that its moderate tone would lend strength to their moral
appeals. But
the fact that, for the first time, the Synod had publicly discussed
issues critical of the government afforded a platform around which
new opposition groups were able to mobilize. The dilemma of the
church
hierarchy in trying to play a reconciling role was therefore only
made more
acute.For its part, the regime reacted with increased irritation
and suspicion against the "provocative" statements of
such churchmen as
Provost Falcke. The Politburo itself resolved on steps to counteract
the
Synod's "negative campaign". The hardliners in the Party
stuck to their rigid
position that no concessions to the churches should be made, regardless
of
the consequences. The subsequent escalation of measures to quash
popular
dissatisfaction,both in or outside the churches, only served to
discredit
the more conciliatory approach of the SED's State Secretary for
Church Affairs, Gysi. Not long afterwards, Gysi was summarily
dismissed.Silomon's conclusion is evenly balanced. The Synod delegates
gave expression to the popular and widespread concern about the
regime's
policies, but for moral not political reasons. On the other hand,
the church
leaders' caution was prompted, not by complicity, but by awareness
that the
SED could, and did, implement even harsher measures against the
churches.
Anyone wanting to see this Synod in a broader and more theological
perspective would do well to turn to the new book by Gregory Baum,
The Church
for Others.Protestant Theology in Communist East Germany, Eerdmann
Publishing
Co., Grand Rapids, Michigan 1996.J.S.C
b) R.Laechele, Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Glaube: die 'Deutsche
Christen' in
Wuerttemberg 1925-1960. (Quellen und Forschungen zur wuerttembergischen
Kirchengeschichte, Bd 12), Stuttgart:Calwer Verlag 1994. PP xi
+ 319.One
facet of the German Church Struggle receiving more attention lately
is the
attempt to fuse Christianity and Nazism, spearheaded by the 'German
Christian' movement. North American members of this Association
will be
familiar with Doris Bergen's Twisted Cross (Newsletter April 1996),
but may
not be acquainted with another new contribution by Rainer Laechele.
He has
produced a comprehensive survey of the 'German Christian' movement
in Wuerttemberg, the first such study of its kind since Helmut
Baier's1968
survey of the movement in Bavaria and Reijo Heinonen's 1978 analysis
of the
'German Christians' in Bremen._Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Glaube_
is broad in
scope. In a series of chronological chapters, Laechele traces
the origins of
the 'German Christans' in the volkisch-religious groups of late
Weimar
Germany and follows them right through their heyday in the Third
Reich and on
into the West German era, where he explores an array of successor
movements.Laechele contends that the 'German Christians' attracted
clergy
and laity who held a nationalist, anti-Jewish, anti-bolshevist,
anti-liberal and anti-pacifist mindset. However, their attempt
to take over
the Wuerttemberg Land Church failed largely because the Land Bishop,Theophil
Wurm, launched his own pre-emptive "seizure of power".According
to Laechele,
the set-backs of 1933 and 1934 led to the ascendancy of ideological
radicals
and provoked the movement to consider an outright rejection of
the state
church. Interestingly, he adds that the 'German Christians' were
virtually
unaffected by the most important initiative of their Confessing
Church
rivals, namely the Barmen Declaration of May 1934. He supports
this view with
a quotation from a non-'German Christian' pastor, who depicted
Barmen as a
"church-political concoction" which came partly from
the ivory tower and
partly from the negotiating table.Between 1934 and 1936, 'German
Christians'
were increasingly marginalised and their members maligned as pietist,
marxist, freethinkers or Catholic in orientation. Laechele illustrates
the deepening division within the Land Church prior to the war,
using the case
of Pastor Georg Schneider of Stuttgart. Schneider's racialist
vision of a
modern, supra-confessional church devoid of any preaching of the
miraculous
was enthusiastically supported by many urban parishioners. For
its part, the
Land Church government was torn between granting concessions to
Schneider and
exercising church discipline against him. In the end, Schneider's
on-going presence opened the door to all manner of ceremonial
innovations as
well as an intensive campaign for 'German Christians' to withdraw
from the
Land Church. All this at a time when the Nazi Party was growing
more
antagonistic towards any form of Christianity. After the outbreak
of war,
'German Christians' readily volunteered for military service,
thus adding to
the universal shortage of clergy.The church-political conflict
cooled as
Germany's fortunes waned and all ecclesiastical activity dwindled
under the
Allied invasion.Ultimately their fate was that of falling between
two
stools, for both the Nazi leadership and the Wuerttemberg Land
Church establishment rejected the 'German Christian' attempt to
synthesize Nazism and Christianity. Following the conclusion of
the war,
the Wuerttemberg Supreme Church Council dismissed around 50 clergy
with
'German Christian' orientations, though some later returned to
the ministry.
The most interesting aspect of the fate of the 'German Christian'
movement,
however, was its continuation after the war, both within and outside
the Land
Church. 'German Christians' survived by couching their ideas in
theological
debates and, ironically, by arguing that they had preserved Christianity
in the hostile atmosphere of the National Socialist regime.One
of the
strengths of Laechele's account in his ability to write the history
of the
'German Christians' at different levels, effectively employing
biography and
local history in the service of his analysis. For instance, Immanuel
Schairer is presented as an example of a 'German Christian' theologian,
just
as Georg Schneider is used to demonstrate the increasing radicalization
of
the movement, the mixed reaction of the Land Church, and ultimately
the fate
of leading 'German Christians' after the fall of Nazism. The town
of Aalen
serves Laechele as an example of the difficulties of establishing
a local
'German Christian' chapter (though he never really explains what
the 'German
Christians' there undertook to do). Finally, the career of Dekan
Riedler of
Schorndorf is depicted in order to illustrate the price paid by
'German
Christians' for opposing Land Bishop Wurm, and the extent to which
the
church-political conflict was carried right down into the parishes.Laechele
falls short, however, in his attempt to connect the history of
the 'German
Christians' to their political, social and ideological context.
He does well
to explain the volkisch-nationalist background of the leaders
of the movement
(many were World War I veterans) and suggests that their lack
of advancement
within the Land Church hierarchy might have contributed to their
antipathy
for the official church. However Doris Bergen's subsequent attention
to the
ideological aspects of the 'German Christian' movement throughout
Germany -
its anti-Jewish, anti-theological, anti-feminist, and anti-Catholic
tendencies - suggests that Laechele could have addressed these
issues more
fully in Wuerttemberg.Nonetheless, as a history of the movement
in one
German Land Church, Laechele's work is most stimulating. It describes
the 'German Christians' not simply as theological strawmen for
the Confessing
Church, but as participants in a concerted attempt to unite Christianity
and
German culture. It was the attraction of that Christian-nationalist
hybrid
that ensured the 'German Christians'would find continued support
even after
the fall of Nazism.Kyle Jantzen, University of Saskatchewan, Saskatoon.
5) Coming to terms with the past in JenaIn a recent issue, DAS
PARLAMENT
reported on a symposium held in Jena to debate the fate of the
peace movement
there in the early 1980s. Herewith an extract: "Ein wichtiger,
immer
wiederdiskutierte Punkt was das Verhaltnis von Kirchen undFriedensgruppen.
Zwar bot die evangelische Kirche den Friedensgruppen einen gewissen
Schutzraum, aber schon bald kames zu Konflikten mit der Kirchenleitung,
die
um das gute Verhaltnis zum Staat besorgt war. Versuche, in
Kirchenraumen Friedenbekenntnisse zu verlesen oder gar Friedensgottesdienste
zu gestalten, stiessen immer haufiger auf Widerstand, teils mit
der Begrunding, die Konzepte seien politisch und nicht vereinbar
mit religioser Liturgie.Anderseits gab es an der Basis zahlreiche
Pfarrer und
kirchliche Mitarbeiter, die das Evangelium wortlich namhen, sich
fur
die Friedensarbeit einsetzten und damit automatisch politische
Position bezogen. Viele Jugendliche empfanden dennoch Kirche eher
als Kontroll
statt als Schutzraum und zogen sich zuruck. Die in Nachhinein
bekanntgewordene Stasi-Verstickung von Kirchenmitarbeitern and
Amtstragern in
Thuringen verhartete das Verhaltnis weiter. Oberkirchenrat Udo
Siebert, der
in den 80er Jahren Superintendent in Jena war und der den
oppositionelle Bewegungen seine private Raume zur Verfugung gestellt
hatte,
sahsich jetzt in der makabren Situation, das damalige Verhalten
der Kirchenleitung erklaren und verteidigen zu mussen. Pfarrer
Walter Schilling, Nestor der Offenen Arbeit in der DDR, warnte
vor Selbstgerechtigkeit und undifferenzierten, holzschnittartigen
Urteilen,
die nicht berucksichtigen, das der Leitungsapparat der Kirche
mit diesem
Anspruch uberfordert war."
Our web-site is: http://omni.cc.purdue.edu/~gmork/akz/index.html
With best wishes to you for 1998.
John S.Conway
jconway@unixg.ubc.ca