1918. Like many wartime babies, both were physically
A Joyful Pilgrimage Seeking
When the Battle of the Marne was lost in 1915 and the tide began to turn against Germany, we grappled further with the question of what our duty was. Should Eberhard voluntarily enlist, or should
he refuse?
With so many of their men at the front, the fellowship groups in Halle had been greatly weakened. In the more thoughtful quarters of the revival movement it was said that "we are all one in Christ," and that even in the present time Jesus was gathering his people out of all nations and races. We struggled to discern how this could fit with the attitude of most Christians toward war. Everyone was "Christian," yet the Germans were fighting the English, the French, and the Italians, and vice versa.
Gradually, and with much struggle, we came to feel that war could not be the will of God, and that the proclamation of the church as the mysterious Body of Christ (which we had heard so much about in those years) was being all but destroyed by it.
In the fall of 1915 we moved with our three children to Wilmersdorf, a suburb of Berlin. There, during the war, two more children were born to us: HansHermann in December 1915, and Monika in February 1918. Like many wartime babies, both were physically weak.
A Joyful Pilgrimage Seeking
In Berlin a new chapter of our life began. Eberhard worked with the Relief Committee for Prisoners of War in the literary department of the recently founded Furche Publishing House. The organization
was headed by Georg Michaelis, Undersecretary of State and chairman of the German Student Christian Movement. As Eberhard had been both a member and director of the SCM in Halle, he was asked to be coeditor of its new monthly periodical, Die Furche (The Furrow).
The publishing house produced books, pamphlets, and art reproductions for prisoners of war and wounded soldiers in the military hospitals. These publications often had a German nationalistic slant; for instance, one was called Der Heliand, which loosely means, "the German Savior." This was done, of course, to foster morale among the combat troops and support the "just German cause." Everybody was expected to contribute his share toward victory; that was simply taken for granted.
Yet as time went on, more and more of the things put out by the Furche did not appeal to us, as we had the feeling they were a distortion of true Christian faith. There was a constant rush and pressure in the publishing house, and terrible tensions in the war work of the student movement. Eberhard continually pointed out that we had to find inner quiet – that we needed to
A Joyful Pilgrimage Seeking
concentrate on the inmost powers, especially amid the unrest of the times. But his advice was not appreciated. I can still remember Dr. Niedermeyer saying to him, "Dr. Arnold, there is no time for inwardness now. We
are at war, Herr Doktor, at war!"
The fact that Germany was surrounded by enemies on all sides and had to fight them all simultaneously weighed heavily on us all, especially as it resulted in people feeling even more obligated to sacrifice themselves for the war effort. New German flags went up everywhere – in the streets, in public and private buildings – every time a new victory had been won against Russia, England, or Italy. On the other hand, the publicly displayed notices announcing the "heroic" deaths of soldiers and listing the wounded caused great shock and sorrow to many.
As the months went by, food became scarcer, until finally it was completely insufficient. Bread, sugar, fat, meat, and other food items could be bought only with ration cards, and the quantities became increasingly smaller. At one time the weekly rations per person were as follows: 4 lbs. bread; 4½ oz. sugar; less than ½ oz. butter, and a little more margarine. Only rutabagas (a variety of turnips) could be bought without ration cards. Ersatz coffee and many other things were made out of rutabagas.
A Joyful Pilgrimage Seeking
Toward the end of the war many people were virtually starving. To make matters worse, there was tremendous inequality. Those who had money and connections were able to get hold of almost anything,
while others went for days without food. In one apartment building, for instance, some had all they wanted, while others, like the caretaker and his wife, had nothing and had to send their children hungry to school. Yet all were expected to fight and give their lives for "the cause" on an equal basis.
Similar (if not worse) inequality existed at the front and behind the front lines, or so we heard. Officers lived in luxury while common soldiers had to survive with the bare minimum. There were also enormous contrasts between hospitals for ranking and nonranking soldiers. Toward the end of the war, we began to hear slogans in the streets like, "Equal food and equal pay, and soon the war will fade away," or, "Wait until they come back home. Out there they learned how to steal." Looting, or "requisitioning," as it was called, was widespread. Naturally, none of this helped to raise the flagging spirit of patriotism.
During this time Eberhard paid frequent visits to army hospitals, where he had the freedom to come and go as a student counselor. He was often extremely depressed when he came home from such visits. He told us of the suffering, the anguish, the tormented
A Joyful Pilgrimage Seeking
consciences of many soldiers, and of various atrocities he had been told about.
Toward the end of the war, the questioning voice of our consciences became more audible and clear than
ever. "How can it be possible for a Christian – indeed, for any human being – to take part in this mass murder?" "Is there no justice on this earth?" "What about the whole social order? How is it possible that all are fighting for the same goal, Germany's victory, and giving their lives for this while at the same time such blatant inequalities exist?"
When the hope for a victorious end to the war, which had upheld the people at least to some degree, was finally shattered, a great sadness – a hopelessness and despair – took hold of the masses. I can still see groups of people standing in front of the posters proclaiming the conditions of the armistice. They cried out: "Wir sind kaputt!" ("We are finished!") Even to the last minute it seemed many had cherished the vain hope that the war would somehow end in Germany's favor. The flags of victory, which had been kept flying right to the end, had strengthened this delusion. But now the truth was out. The Kaiser had abdicated and fled to Holland. Why didn't he stay with those who kept their soldier's vow to the bitter end, fighting and dying "for God, king, and fatherland"?
A Joyful Pilgrimage Seeking
I will never forget the endless columns of soldiers that passed our house in those days – silent, bearded, and gray, their artillery pieces and field kitchens in tow. They were returning home defeated after four years at
the front, and no one dared to say a word to them. Great sadness and mourning, disillusionment, emptiness, and fear were written on their faces.
A Joyful Pilgrimage The Wind Blows
The Wind Blows
Only a few days later, the streets of Berlin looked different again. It was November 9, 1918. Big trucks mounted with machine guns raced through the city, bedecked with the red banner of revolution. This flag was replacing the old black, white, and red one – the tricolor of the German Empire – on public buildings, outside private homes, and even on the Imperial Palace.
Gunfire could be heard everywhere. Columns of men still in military uniform marched boldly through the streets. Now all the pent-up suffering and hatred of the oppressed erupted. They had seen enough! There was sharp-shooting, brother against brother. Fighting took place throughout the city, and when we traveled by electric streetcar, we had to ride lying flat on the floor. Luckily the firing would cease twice a day, while the children were walking to and from school, picking their way through the streets on boards that had been laid across the trenches for them.
A Joyful Pilgrimage The Wind Blows
It is hard to describe the Revolution of 1918–1919. There had been plenty to indicate that unrest was brewing: people had been certain the war would be short, and that Germany would win it, and both
hopes had proved to be utterly wrong. Then people had naïvely set their hopes on Wilson's Fourteen Points, only to have them dashed once they read the conditions of the armistice and saw what their leaders had agreed to.
At times we had the impression that Berlin had gone mad. In the center city we saw men with both legs and an arm gone, cranking hand organs with their one remaining limb. Everyone who passed by was drawn into a wild dance to their music. It was just crazy.
A few days later thousands gathered for the election of a new government in Berlin's biggest hall, the Zirkus Busch. Masses of people pushed their way inside, Eberhard and I among them. We were deeply shocked when someone from the crowd shouted, "Where was God in 1914? Were there any Christians at all then? The clergy are to blame, too; they even blessed the weapons!" A Chinese immigrant got up and shouted, "We converted to Christianity in our homeland, but what we have experienced here, what we have been taught – one nation fighting the next, men killing one another – has made us lose the faith your missionaries brought us. Christianity has become a mockery to
A Joyful Pilgrimage The Wind Blows
the Hindus and Chinese!" Similar sentiments were expressed in other meetings as well.
When the actual election took place, nominees were suggested from all sides, from the Democrats
to the Communists, who were represented by Karl Liebknecht and Rosa Luxemburg. (Both of them were brutally murdered later.) In the end Friedrich Ebert was elected president of Germany, but there was still no real political stability. For more than a year after the war the country went through one wave of violence and upheaval after another.
Something else happened in those days, something which had perhaps been evident even during the last period of the war. A great questioning began, mostly among those from the younger generation. Working class youth, artists, atheists, and Christians – all said, "It cannot go on like this. What, after all, is the meaning of life?" This question came to us through our work at the Furche Publishing House and through the youth circles connected with it.
Naturally our searching soon brought us into contact with others, and we began to hold weekly open houses in our home to discuss the issues of the day. When the number of those attending grew to eighty, and then even one hundred, we began to hold meetings twice a week. Those who came included members from various branches of the youth movement, people
A Joyful Pilgrimage The Wind Blows
from Christian circles, anarchists, atheists, Quakers, Baptists, artists, and representatives of the revival movement as well.
What did all these people have in common? Wasn't it
just a great mixture, complete chaos? No. What brought us together was a single concern: "What shall we do? It can't go on like this any longer." There was no one who was able to give a clear-cut answer. So it happened that we came together in one common quest. People were expectant, open for any kind of direction or inspiration. Often we went on after midnight, until finally, after a prolonged struggle, a helpful insight drew us together and showed us the way forward. The writings of Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, and Gustav Landauer spoke especially to our situation.
At that time the Furche brought out a book called Die arme Schwester der Kaiserin (The Poor Sister of the Empress). At one of our meetings Eberhard read a story, "Rachoff," from this book. In it a wealthy young Russian feels called by Christ to give his life in service to the poor. He leaves his parents' house, and on his wanderings comes face to face with the need and suffering of his people. Siding with the poor, he is marked by the State as a dangerous man and is cast into prison, where he suffers greatly himself.
A Joyful Pilgrimage The Wind Blows
Full of anticipation, we invited the author, Karl Josef Friedrich, to attend one of our open-house meetings and share his vision for a solution to the social problems we were struggling to confront. Perhaps he
could advise us? When our guest arrived, however, he said only, "Yes, I wrote the book, and I was moved by that story, which is based on recorded facts. But I never said I would do the same thing myself." All who were present were greatly disappointed; they, like we, were looking for a way of action. There had been enough words, enough sermons, and books. What mattered now was deeds.
During the year following the armistice, a great number of conferences and retreats were organized across Germany, mostly by youth who were seeking a new direction for the future. Eberhard was invited to speak at many of them. One of the first was the Student Christian Movement conference on the Frauenberg near Marburg, which took place at Whitsun 1919. Here Eberhard addressed the gathering with his thoughts on the Sermon on the Mount. Reports of this conference, reviews of Eberhard's address, and testimonies of the effect his words had on listeners were published in several periodicals. In the magazine Erfurter Führerblätter, Erwin Wissman wrote:
A Joyful Pilgrimage The Wind Blows
The focus of all that was said and thought was Jesus'
Sermon on the Mount. Eberhard Arnold burned it into
our hearts with a passionate spirituality, hammered it
into our wills with prophetic power and the tremendous
mobile force of his whole personality. This was the
Sermon on the Mount in the full force of its impact, in its
absolute and undiminished relevance, its unconditional
absoluteness. Here there was no compromise. Whoever
wants to belong to this kingdom must give himself wholly
and go through with it to the last! To be a Christian
means to live the life of Christ. We are obligated by a
burning challenge: the rousing summons to live, and the
ominous warning, "He that takes the sword shall perish
by the sword."
The discussions that followed were extremely lively, and from them a new stream of life, a vision of the future, came into our open-house meetings. Another conference was convened by the SCM in August 1919. The main topic of this one was "What is the attitude of a Christian to war and revolution? Can a Christian be a soldier?" Eberhard's answer was a clear "no." A report of this conference says:
Eberhard Arnold recognizes the necessity of the new
birth, and he says that this belongs to the [Christian]
A Joyful Pilgrimage The Wind Blows
proclamation. Jesus recognized the authority of the
state, but he spoke of the kingdom of God as something
quite different: "The Christian must be a perpetual
corrective of the state, a conscience of the state and its
legislative task, a leaven, a foreign body in the sense of a
higher value; but he cannot be a soldier, an executioner,
or a police officer. It is our task to bear witness in word
and deed and see to it that nothing in Jesus' words
becomes confused. We must obey God rather than men!
We must be a corrective element in this world!"
Eberhard's words struck the audience like lightning, and an animated argument ensued. It was more than an intellectual discussion; it was as if the very bottom had dropped out of things. Hermann Schafft contradicted Eberhard most vehemently. He as well as others represented that the State was "God's servant to punish evil and to foster good," as the apostle Paul expresses it. In a relative sense Eberhard agreed with this concept of the State; yet he urgently felt that the hour demanded more: it needed people who were willing to testify to Jesus' way of nonviolence.
After this there was another conference in Saarow, Brandenburg, where the same theme resulted in similar discussions and deliberations. Then on September 22– 25, 1919, a meeting was held at Tambach in Thuringia.
A Joyful Pilgrimage The Wind Blows
Here we experienced our first encounter with the Swiss Religious Socialists and met Karl Barth, who was one of the main speakers. The testimony of the Swiss, especially that of Karl Barth, and his belief that "God
is totally different from man" (i.e. man is insignificant) made a deep impression on the gathering.
I remember a small incident that occurred at the end of the conference. Otto Herpel, the chairman of the event and a member of our movement, had said something like, "Let us go home now and consider everything we have heard. We will meet again next year and see whether the God of old is still alive." At this the Swiss roared with laughter. How could we little human beings presume to discern such a thing? (Otto had actually meant to imply that God would surely be alive.) Offended, Otto left the meeting. After he was persuaded to come back, the Swiss publicly apologized for their outburst.
At Eberhard's places of work tensions were growing. At this time he was literary director of the Furche Publishing House, general secretary of the SCM, and an assistant with the German Student Service for Prisoners of War. In all three organizations, opinions were divided into two opposing camps. Everyone was aware of confusion among the youth, an effect of the
A Joyful Pilgrimage The Wind Blows
turmoil and suffering of the war years. There were those who wanted to lead them back onto the beaten track of conventional church life and revivalist pietism. Others, Eberhard among them, believed that the
young generation was looking on public events with an entirely different eye as a result of the war and the revolution. The young had learned a lesson from the blatant inequalities, the realities of military duty, and the whole war psychosis they had so painfully observed. They believed they must go an entirely different way, the way Jesus had spoken of – the way of the Sermon on the Mount.
The attitude of the latter group came to expression in several new publications of the Furche at that time, as well as in many of the manuscripts submitted to the publishing house, and this led to conflicts with those who wanted to stick with "old" ways and ideas. At about this time we became acquainted with the people of Der Christliche Demokrat (The Christian Democrat), a journal we later took over under the name Das neue Werk (The New Work). We quickly grew close to these friends who were seeking new paths and, like us, were willing to travel them. All were determined: the old and the rotten could not be part of a new life!
Meanwhile the struggling and searching continued in our open house meetings. The Sermon on the Mount was both our direction and our goal, but there
A Joyful Pilgrimage The Wind Blows
were other voices that made themselves heard too. Some said, "It is impossible to live up to that today! There will always be rich and poor. You can't eliminate competition. Everyone has to do the best he can
with what he has. Otherwise people would soon take advantage of each other's generosity." Yet we could hardly ignore the contrast between this attitude and Jesus' words: "If someone wants to take your jacket, give him your coat as well. Live like the lilies in the fields and the birds in the air. Have no enemies. Love your enemies. Do good to them!" And so we continued to struggle. People asked us, "But what would you do if somebody carried off your furniture?" or, "What if somebody were to rape or kill your own wife in front of you? How could you love such a person?"
Our circle continued to grow. As a result of the various conferences, members of both the youth movement and the workers' movement came to us. For these young men and women, the longing of the Free German Youth as expressed at the Hohe Meissner Conference of 1913 was still alive, and it urged them to action: "We want to be free to build up and determine our own lives in a truthful and genuine way." The workers' movement was fighting for freedom, equality, and brotherhood: "We know no differences. We know no enemies. All disparity is caused by the upper classes;
A Joyful Pilgrimage The Wind Blows
the lower classes must no longer be forced to follow their example!"
Through reading the Sermon on the Mount, we grew more concerned with finding a practical way to express
our inward longings. But what should the new life be like? Many suggestions were made. It became more and more unbearable for us to continue in the old middleclass way of life. We discussed a number of possibilities: folk schools, cooperatives, and land settlements of various kinds. Eberhard and I had the idea of buying a gypsy trailer, or even several, and traveling from village to village, from town to town this way, with our family and anyone who wanted to join us. We would make music, speak to people and try to encourage them, and teach our children as we went along. We would travel without a destination, staying in a particular place only as long as our help was needed and accepted by the war widows, the children, the sick, and the poor, whose homes we would help to rebuild. Many people were attracted to this vision.
A short time later, in the same open-house meetings, we read from the Book of Acts, chapters 2 and 4, about Pentecost.
Now the multitude of those who believed were of one
heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things
A Joyful Pilgrimage The Wind Blows
he possessed were his own, but they held everything in
common. There was not a needy person among them,
for as many as were possessors of lands or houses sold
them, and brought the proceeds of what was sold…
Distribution was made to each as had need. (Acts 4:
32–35)
Here, we felt, was an answer to our seeking and questioning: community of faith, community of love, community of goods – all born from the energy of that first love. Perhaps we would be an itinerant community, in trailers or on foot, or maybe we ought to build up a settlement. Whatever form it took, we now knew we had to be messengers of a church aflame with love.
We are like fires through the darkness burning
And though we may burn for a single night,
Yet joy upon joy in wealth o'erflowing
And light to the land our fire has brought.
Soon we began to look for actual possibilities. Workingclass friends favored a settlement in the country, which would give people like themselves a chance to visit us
there, away from the industrial towns. We ourselves were contemplating a house in the city, in collaboration with the fellowship we had helped to create in Halle in