A Reader’s Reward

IMG_20180601_130550089_HDRA sampling of prize books housed in the Menno Simons Historical Library at EMU

 

The beauty of old and rare books is that through studying some of them we can learn not just about the ideas of the writer, but also the life of their reader.

We are fortunate in the Menno Simons Historical Library to have some rare books that give us an insight into the work of Dutch Mennonites in the eighteenth century. These books were given as prizes to children who did well in their catechism classes. The prize encouraged children to learn scripture and the books that were given taught them about the faith of the Mennonite church. Topics ranged from martyr books to histories of the Bible and Mennonite doctrine. We have at least eight examples of prize books in our collection, and I will highlight a few here.

The first is a book of Mennonite history and doctrine by Galenus Abrahamsz de Haan given to Jacob Beukenberg, an orphan living in the Weehuis in Amsterdam, on April 23, 1710.

IMG_20180601_130743832

Another is an emblem book of poems, scripture, and illustrations given to Gerardus de Wind on the 22nd of April 1753.

IMG_20180601_130729839

The third is and final one I will highlight is a small book of martyr stories by Thielman van Braght (best known as compiler and author of the Martyrs Mirror) presented to Pieter Corver on the 26th of February 1774.
IMG_20180601_130632141_HDR

Keith Sprunger, emeritus professor of history at Bethel College, studied these books twenty years ago during a research trip to the Menno Simons Historical Library. He notes that “the provider of the books was usually a church member who was a printer or ran a book store”1. Many Dutch Mennonites had warmly embraced this new printing technology, with some becoming quite rich from the enterprise. Sprunger writes that “This era was . . . the heroic age of Dutch Mennonite printing” and that “the Mennonite churches made great use of the printed word for advancing their religion”2.

Is the printed word still valued by Mennonites? The existence of Herald Press, MennoMedia, and the various Mennonite libraries and archives scattered around North America are hopeful indicators to me that as Mennonites we still make great use of the printed word to transmit our faith, heritage, and the good news of Jesus to the next generation. Many congregations today maintain traditions of giving their young people Bibles or books when they are baptized or reach other milestones.

But the news is full of stories of traditional forms of media struggling to maintain viability in the face of a population becoming ever-more reliant on instant access via the internet, social media, and smartphones. And while I believe technology is a fantastic tool to meet many communication and learning needs, it is clear that when it comes to leaving a long-term record it is not as enduring or reliable as print media. The prize books I mentioned above have been preserved in their original form for nearly three hundred years; computers from twenty years ago have long been relegated to the trash heap. Just as technology has enabled us to preserve through digitization and increase access through web content, it also presents major problems of preservation and access of records based in formats that are now obsolete. 

While it is tempting to continue chasing the new and best technology trends, I think it is wise to take a step back and consider how we can also continue to support and use print resources to leave a record and transmit our traditions to future generations of believers. There is value in possessing tangible resources that we can peruse and return to years later without worrying about data migration, file format compatibility, and URL stability. The young people who received these books appreciated them as the prize they were and we would do well to remember in our ever-changing and fast-paced world that there are still many rewards to be found between the covers of a good book.

Sources:
Sprunger, Keith L. 1999. Mennonitism in print : EMU and the history of Dutch Mennonite printing. n.p.: [1999]., 1999. Menno Simons Historical Library Vertical File.


  1. Sprunger, 17. 
  2. Sprunger, 13. 

Centennial Histories Symposium at Eastern Mennonite University March 24, 2018

20180324-centennial histories conference-001-1000pxPhoto credit: Macson McGuigan/EMU

In celebration of Eastern Mennonite University’s centennial year, history professors Mary Sprunger and Mark Sawin planned a symposium centered around the centennial histories of the five MCUSA colleges: Bethel1, Goshen, Bluffton, Hesston, and EMU. They brought together the five authors of centennial histories as well as past presidents to share their reflections on the histories of the schools. The symposium offered an opportunity for consideration of how the past of these schools plays into their present and future.

The first session was a panel discussion where each author gave a brief overview of the histories of their institution. The authors shared in order of school age; Keith Sprunger from Bethel first, then Susan Fisher Miller from Goshen, Perry Bush from Bluffton, John Sharp from Hesston, and finally Donald Kraybill from EMU. It was interesting to hear parallels in the motives for some of the schools’ foundings. There was a common thread of these schools starting in order to save Mennonite students–both to save them from the evils of the world and to save them from leaving so that their talents could be used in the church. All of the authors recognized that loyal faculty and staff have seen the schools through very difficult times. They also echoed a theme of change and adaptation across the five schools stories. But some differences were apparent as well–Midwest vs. East coast, “liberal” vs. “conservative”, and an openness to the world vs. a fortress mentality. Past presidents Loren Swartzendruber and Victor Stoltzfus and outgoing Bluffton president James Harder also shared their reflections.

In the second session the authors shared about challenges throughout the schools’ history. Keith Sprunger shared about Bethel first, mentioning issues like financial struggles, low enrollment, difficulty in finding quality faculty, and diversity. These topics would be echoed by many of the authors on the panel. Susan Fisher Miller discussed declining Mennonite enrollment and pondered whether the Mennonite institutions have become victims of their own success–did they nurture strong minds early on who then moved on to “greener pastures” of more prestigious education and subsequently encouraged their children to do the same? Perry Bush spoke about how Mennonite institutions are now a part of the national marketplace of higher ed and have to contend with issues like being competitive cost-wise, offering good value for money, and finding support outside of traditional church and parachurch organizations. John Sharp mentioned the historic lack of cooperation between Hesston and Bethel even though they are located just a few miles apart. Don Kraybill spoke of the particular issue of encouraging diversity at EMC while contending with the Jim Crow-era South. The authors all acknowledged ongoing “sibling rivalry” between the institutions, but noted that early attitudes of isolation and competition have since been replaced with an attitude of cooperation.

The third session was a time where groups of faculty, students, staff, administrators and authors gathered around tables for conversation. Participants discussed the morning’s sessions as well as questions from a prepared handout that asked:

  • What should the guiding mission and purpose of Mennonite schools be in coming years given the changes in both the church and the student bodies?
  • Is being distinctively ‘Mennonite’ important?
  • Institutions by necessity grow and change. How will Mennonite institutions need to change to remain relevant in the future? What are the ‘givens’ that must remain? What are the traditions that may need to change?

There was a second handout highlighting enrollment trends at the Mennonite institutions over the past fifteen years. It broke down enrollment by MCUSA conference, trends of Mennonite student attendance, and overall full-time Mennonite traditional undergraduate enrollment at the schools. These graphs can be found here: http://bit.ly/MennoHS & http://bit.ly/MennoSystem

These questions and the data sparked fascinating conversations surrounding Mennonite identity and population at the institutions, what it means to be a Mennonite institution in the face of dwindling Mennonite attendance, and what impact larger societal trends are having on these institutions.

In the final session the authors gave their final thoughts on how the first centuries of these institutions will inform the next. Many reiterated the distinctiveness of these five institutions in maintaining their Mennonite identity over their histories and the importance of loyal faculty and alumni. Susan Fisher Miller highlighted the benefits of diversity and an international focus. Perry Bush reminded the group of how radical and attractive the Anabaptist perspective can be to students, both Mennonite and non-Mennonite, and said he believes remaining distinctly Anabaptist and following a Third Way is the best path forward for our schools. John Sharp posed the question: who are we serving if the church that we serve is scattering? Don Kraybill had to leave early but left remarks that were read reflecting on the difficulties of maintaining Mennonite institutions of higher education without a critical mass of Mennonite students and strong church support. Finally, students responded to what they had discussed in the afternoon. They spoke of their appreciation for the opportunity to learn more about the history of their institutions and called for more cooperation and conversation between the student bodies of the schools.

Many in the Q&A sessions voiced a wish that these conversations had taken place long ago and a desire to see them continue in the future. It was a hopeful time for me to see such cooperation and engagement across a variety of sectors in our Mennonite institutions and I, too, hope that these conversations continue as we all work toward our common goal of providing distinctive, faith-based, Anabaptist education. As I reflect on the symposium, I feel that it is clear that the Mennonite institutions of higher ed are entering a new era. The old models are unreliable and in order to survive and thrive there must be an openness to new ways of being. This brings uncertainty, grappling with questions of identity, and, at times, pain. But it feels necessary to ensure the survival of these beloved institutions in their second centuries. As someone who was shaped by Mennonite education and feels privileged to work at EMU, I hope that the challenges facing the institutions will spark creativity, cooperation, and positive change and allow for the continued flourishing of our Mennonite institutions.

Special thanks to Mark Sawin, Mary Sprunger, Barbara Byer, Scott Barge and all others who contributed to facilitate this fantastic symposium.


  1. Bethel’s history was written to commemorate its 125th anniversary. 

A School By Any Other Name?

Names are funny things. Once they’re assigned to people, places, or things it can be hard to imagine anything else fitting. Though 100 years on it seems almost inconceivable for Eastern Mennonite University to be anything other than Eastern Mennonite, it took the founders a few tries to find a name that stuck. Many of the early suggestions were informed by the locations they would inhabit. Warwick Mennonite Institute, Warwick Mennonite Academy, and Alexandria Mennonite Institute clearly didn’t fit anymore once Harrisonburg became the settled upon location. But what about another suggestion: The Mennonite Student’s Safeguard and Industrial School? Certainly this conveyed in plain language the goals of the school, but it was a bit wordy and perhaps a bit too on the nose.  

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In the end, they settled on Eastern Mennonite School. Not as conspicuous as The Mennonite Student’s Safeguard and Industrial School, but it was decidedly less of a mouthful and still contained a key indication of their core identity: Mennonite. In Eastern Mennonite University: A Century of Countercultural Education Don Kraybill writes that “The records do not say how the final name was determined” but that “even in the twenty-first century, Eastern Mennonite University remains the only Mennonite-related college or university of eight in the United States that carries the denominational name”1

It must be stated that having the word Mennonite in the name certainly doesn’t make EMU more Mennonite than other colleges. Some of the founders even made the case for leaving Mennonite out. Kraybill writes of a letter that chair of the local board C.H. Brunk wrote to the General Board stating “it is not customary to give a school a denominational name…some people are more or less prejudiced against denominational institutions . . . [the school] can be just as truly denominational without the name” A small group including Brunk agreed “unanimously” that it should be named simply “Eastern Institute and Bible School.”2

There are some even today who think that the inclusion of Mennonite in EMU’s name is off-putting to prospective students or has the potential to be polarizing. In recent times other Anabaptist groups have made or proposed changes to their names that remove words like Brethren and Mennonite in order to be more inclusive and broaden their appeal.3 And it’s possible that Goshen, Bluffton, Bethel, and Hesston don’t have to field pesky questions about the availability of electricity on their campuses.4 But some on campus argue that we should lean into, rather than downplay, the Mennonite characteristics. Kraybill touches on this argument, noting that:

In a campus forum, enrollment managers proposed striking Mennonite from the marketing materials and reducing “other odd things about EMU to make it look less ‘weird’ and easier to recruit local Virginia students and mainstream evangelical Christian ones.” History professor Mark Sawin argued the reverse: “If EMU stops being distinctively Mennonite, we have no reason to exist. There are plenty of better-funded, better-situated Christian colleges and liberal arts colleges. If we try to be like them—to be just another mainstream, vanilla, Christian liberal arts school, I think we would, and perhaps should, fail. We aren’t vanilla; we’re pistachio. Most people prefer vanilla and chocolate, it’s true, but those who prefer pistachio love it and will seek it out. To thrive we need to not lessen but increase our distinctiveness—we need to be more, not less, pistachio.” 5

So Eastern Mennonite University it is. We have spent the last 100 years committing to our pistachio-ness and will continue to do so.  Though some may see the label as a hindrance, it can also be seen as an opportunity to invite conversation and share the unique ideals of Anabaptism.  In this way EMU really is a Christian—and more specifically an Anabaptist Mennonite—University like no other.

For more information about the history of Eastern Mennonite University, check out Don Kraybill’s 100-year history: Eastern Mennonite University: a Century of Countercultural Education. Available from EMU, Amazon, and Penn State University Press.


  1. Donald Kraybill, Eastern Mennonite University: A Century of Countercultural Education (University Park, PA: Penn State University Press, 2017), 54. 
  2. Kraybill, 54. 
  3. Rich Preheim, Still BIC but no longer Brethren,” Mennonite World Review, Oct. 30, 2017.; Rachel Stella, “Switch to ‘Rosedale Network’ narrowly fails,” Mennonite World Review, Aug. 14, 2017. 
  4. As a student tour guide I once was asked this very question. Other people I’ve spoken with have reported being asked where we keep our horses and buggies. 
  5. Kraybill, 294. 

A peek into the past at EMU

Eastern Mennonite University is celebrating their Centennial this year with year-long celebrations that kicked off at Convocation, will continue with Homecoming celebrations including artwork, theater, live music, reunions, and the release of a new history book, and will culminate in the 100th commencement in May 2018.

As we launch into our next hundred years, it is worthwhile to go back to the beginning and take a look at where the school began. In the EMU Archives’ digital collection we are fortunate to have correspondence from Mary Nafzinger, a charter student at EMS from Pigeon, Michigan, to her pen pal to Evan Miller, who was a C.O. in Camp Mead at the time.  Evan Miller was also the grandfather of former EMU archivist Nathan E. Yoder, who graciously shared this material with the collection.

First EMS graduating class, 1919

First graduating class of EMS; Mary Nafzinger, front left

Mary’s letters to Evan give us a sense of day-to-day life in the early years of the school and also an understanding of how world events–like the Spanish Flu and World War I–impacted the small campus:

September 19, 1918

“Things are going on in their usual quiet way here at school. Much like last year only I am taking a heavier course, and taking seven subjects. Six of them being solid. I also put in my application to do the ironing so I am quite busy. The spiritual side of the school is growing dearer to me every day. We girls have prayer circle every evening then we have a devotional service before breakfast every morning. We also have a S.S. [Sunday School] organized, and a Young People’s Meeting . . . Elizabeth Horsch [later wife of H.S. Bender] from Scottdale is my roommate.”

 

September 26, 1918

“I am sitting out on our porch writing on the bannisters. . . .”

White house002
The porch Mary Nafzinger is referencing here was on the “White House”, a mansion on the property in Park Woods that the EMS founders purchased in 1917. This building housed all school activities and students.

In this letter Mary also discusses the impact of WWI on enrollment numbers:

“We have about 22 students registered. Four of them are Maryland and Pa. Some more are expected soon. This last draft law cut down so many that wanted to come but of course girls could come, but some have to stay at home on account of their brothers leaving.”

In one of her next letters Mary tells Evan how they spend their leisure time at the school:

October 7, 1918:

“Two girls from here at the Park and I were out on a rocky hill all afternoon, too, writing letters, reading etc. I think that is one way of spending an ideal Sunday afternoon. The greatness and grandness of nature impresses me so much and makes me conscious of His greatness and also as nothing else can makes me feel the nearness of Him who never leaves or forsakes us.”

In the fall of 1918, the second wave of an influenza pandemic, nicknamed the “Spanish Flu” hit Harrisonburg and the surrounding areas. EMS was not immune from the pandemic, with many students and faculty taking ill. Mary writes:

Oct. 22, 1918

“I am just convalescent after having the Spanish Influenza. We have not been having school for the last two weeks but expect to open up again tomorrow. Quite a number of students went home, but all we folks that stayed got it. In fact we were all in bed with it except the cook. She took care of us and good care at that . . . I was in bed nine days and was quite sick as one day they decided to send for my parents then I happened to get better right off.

Quite a few people died around here, but only one Mennonite that I know of.

P.S. You need not be afraid of getting the flue thru this letter as everything has been disinfected.”

Hen-Flew-Enza

The influenza continued to affect the school after Mary’s recovery, and she was pressed into service as a caregiver:

November 7, 1918

“Just after writing to you three more students and the cook took sick with the “Hen-flew-enza.” The students from Pa and Md immediately went home, leaving only three of us in charge and two men to cook for, J.L. Stauffer and Mr. Matz. Miss Charlton and Miss Horsch were installed as cooks and I your humble servant as nurse. None of us were very strong yet, and we had some time. They were not used to cooking and in fact had never cooked much so they as well as the rest of us were in a misery ha.

I cooked soft-diet food for my patients and you can imagine they were in a perfect misery with me as a nurse. But I got along famously and like nursing fine. It was almost as much of a lesson to me to wait on patients as to have the ‘flue’ myself.”

Mary spent the Thanksgiving holiday at the school and enjoyed some special entertainment:

November 30, 1918

“Then Thanksgiving evening we had a taffy pulling in the kitchen. It was fine but the taffy and the sport of pulling it. Also to see some four little freshman smearing in the sticky stuff that were not accustomed to handling it.”

Lest we think that EMS in the early 20th century was all excitement and occupation, here is what Mary and her roommate were doing to entertain themselves in the winter of 1918:

December 8, 1918

“At present my roommate and I are engaging our spare moments and also others in watching a hyacinth bulb grow that I purchased in the ten-cent store. It seems almost miraculous how fast it grows. We have no idea what color it is going to be.”

Hyacinth

The EMS of 1918 was certainly a different place to the EMU of today. It was smaller, more tight-knit, and moved at a slower pace. I think it’s safe to say that students of today, with numerous campus activities, extracurriculars, WiFi, and Netflix could find many ways to occupy themselves other than watching plants grow. But there are also similarities–a focus on spiritual life, challenging academics, and enjoyment of the beauty of the Shenandoah Valley.

1919

Mary’s final missive to Evan contained her graduation announcement and the commencement program inscribed with her class’s motto ‘Each May Serve’. Likewise, the class of 2018 are prepared by EMU to ‘serve and lead in a global context’. As we appreciate the growth and changes the past 100 years have brought to EMU, it is also reassuring to notice the similarities and qualities that have made the school a unique place throughout its history.

Unique etchings by Jan Luiken

Bowyer_Bible_Volume_1_Print_7._Portrait_of_Jan_Luyken._BronenPortrait of Jan Luiken File created by Phillip Medhurst – Photo by Harry Kossuth, FAL,
https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8987881

When the name Jan Luiken is mentioned in Anabaptist circles, most think of his brilliant etchings in the Martyrs’ Mirror. His depiction of the martyr Dirk Willems may be the most famous, appearing on book covers, adapted artwork, and even secular psychology textbooks.

 

Dirk.willems.rescue.ncsDirk Willems rescues his captor. Public Domain,
https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=544931

 

IMG_20160802_135903_119.jpgLuiken etching found in the textbook “Exploring Psychology“ used by my husband when he taught a General Psychology course at James Madison University last fall.

 

But Luiken’s oeuvre goes far beyond his martyr drawings. Born in April 16, 1649 in Amsterdam, he was a Mennonite who made his living during the Dutch Golden Age as an illustrator, taking on numerous projects that spanned genres and topics. 

The Menno Simons Historical Library at Eastern Mennonite University is fortunate to have a considerable collection of books containing Luiken’s artwork. The content of these books ranges from exotic topics like the Laplanders of northern Finland to pirates on the North African coast and to more domestic portraits of tradesman and interiors of Dutch homes. Here I will highlight just a few interesting books and etchings in our collection.

The first illustrations are from a 1684 book entitled “Historie van Barbaryen, en des zelfs Zee-Roovers”—which discusses the history of the Barbary (North African) coast and pirates.

IMG_6263Title page
IMG_6262The new king of Algeria
IMG_6264A battle at sea

The next illustrations are from a 1682 book about the history of the Lapland region of Finland. Luiken’s illustrations show the customs and activities of the Lapland or Sami people.

IMG_6266Baptisms
IMG_6265Skiing and sledding

His illustrations in 1711’s “Het leerzaam huisraad” depict objects in a typical Dutch household.

IMG_6257The bed
IMG_6258The dishes

Likewise, his illustrations in “Het Menselyk Bedryf” depict various occupations of his day.

IMG_6259The painter
IMG_6261The fisher

Lois Bowman, Librarian Emeritus at EMU and former librarian in the Menno Simons Historical Library, has done a great deal of work cataloging our rare book collection and worked closely with the Jan Luiken Collection. She notes that the detail in Luiken’s work distinguishes it from other contemporary etchings; in addition to the main subject there are often background goings-on in his pictures that add a depth and realness to the illustration. The next time you encounter Luiken’s works either in the Martyrs’ Mirror or in other books, take some time to examine the etchings and note his attention to detail and skill. You are likely find something new and unique to appreciate! 

Archives Power? The Role of Record-Keepers in Historical Preservation and Research

library-power

Simone D. Horst

I recently saw this picture when my graduate advisor, a longtime library science educator, shared it on her Facebook page. I can say that as a librarian, the comic mostly rings true–one generally does not enter the library profession seeking fame and fortune. But the last word, power, gives me pause. Librarians, archivists, and all others who are given stewardship of records do have power. They have influence over historical narratives that must be given attention by both the record-keepers themselves and the people they serve. It is only through recognition of this influence that they can be held accountable and that those with whose histories they are entrusted can ensure that the preservation and access of those stories is being handled in a professional, ethical manner.

There are a number of facets to this influence, three of which Randall Jimerson explores in the introduction to his book Archives Power: Memory, Accountability, and Social Justice.  He opens by saying that archives can be seen as temples, prisons, or restaurants. For Jimerson, “the temple reflects the power of authority and veneration. The prison wields the power of control. The restaurant holds the power of interpretation and mediation. These represent the trinity of archival functions: selection, preservation, and access. Archives at once protect and preserve records; legitimize and sanctify certain documents while negating and destroying others; and provide access to selected sources while controlling the researchers and conditions under which they may examine the archival record.”1

Jimerson’s first example, the temple, describes the power exerted by record-keepers in the selection process. He writes that “the very acts of selection and preservation set some records apart from others and give them heightened validity” and reminds his readers that “in the archival temple, archivists make value-laden decisions with momentous implications for the knowledge that the future will have of the past.”2  Jason Kauffman, Mennonite Church USA Archivist, touched on this in his blog post “Now You’re the Institution” when he talked about the importance of addressing ‘archival silences’ by cultivating institutional collections that represent groups that have been marginalized or left out of a group’s historical records.3 Archives cannot collect everything, but an intentionality in the formation of collection development policies and in the activities of acquisition can help ensure the preservation of an historic record that makes an attempt at balance and inclusion.

Jimerson’s second example, the prison, demonstrates how archives have historically handled the preservation of records. Preservation meant maintaining the records exactly as they were when they arrived. Physical materials were kept in tightly controlled, high security spaces, with acid-free storage, climate control, and strict rules on viewing and usage. But with the advent of technology archives, libraries are being forced to reassess their methods of preservation and make decisions about the application of technology: what gets scanned and stored electronically? What formats are digital items stored in and how will archives ensure that these formats remain available five or ten years down the road as technologies change? Why digitize one collection rather than another? How do institutions maintain copyright control and security when items are shared on a platform as vast and far-reaching as the Internet? Digitization has enhanced the ability for records managers to provide access, but it also brings up difficult questions of preservation. This new frontier does not follow the pattern of how archives have historically gone about preservation, nor does it fit neatly into Jimerson’s prison narrative. It is an entirely new aspect that is allowing archives to provide more unlimited access to their collections, but also challenges the historically held beliefs of how best to preserve historic resources.

The final facet of power is access. This is Jimerson’s restaurant, where record-keepers and information-seekers come together to use and interpret historical documents. Providing patrons with access to resources is at the heart of the ethics of both the archival and library professions. The Society of American Archivists Code of Ethics states that “Although access may be limited in some instances, archivists seek to promote open access and use when possible” and the first point in the American Library Association’s Code of Ethics is “We provide the highest level of service to all library users through appropriate and usefully organized resources; equitable service policies; equitable access; and accurate, unbiased, and courteous responses to all requests.” This is where an archivist’s power can be most plainly seen; there are many unfortunate examples of record-keepers bucking ethical codes and using their own discretion to assess whether records are fit for public consumption and withholding those they deem inappropriate. And, unfortunately, the lofty goals of living up to ethical principles of providing access can sometimes clash with more benign limits like restricted open hours, processing backlogs, and privacy rights that hinder the amount of free access the public can have to archival and library materials. Of the three facets of discussed here, this is both the easiest place for outsiders to recognize a record-keeper’s power and also the easiest place to hold records-keepers accountable.

Jimerson goes on to discuss how archives, once regarded by historians and others who use their contents as an unbiased source of materials that contained stories just waiting to be told, are now being seen for the power they have in shaping the discourse even before historical research begins. For many of us who work in these places, this power can feel uncomfortable. But power in archives and records-keeping doesn’t have to been seen as a bad thing. Jimerson states, “[O]ne challenge for archivists is to embrace the power of archives and use it to make society more knowledgeable, more tolerant, more diverse, and more just…once archivists acknowledge their professional and personal viewpoints, they can avoid using this power indiscriminately or, even worse, accidentally.”4  He concludes by saying that “rather than hide from their power in the realm of history, memory, and the past, I hope that archivists will embrace the power of archives and use it for the good of mankind.”5 

Anabaptists and Mennonites are privileged to have a large number of institutions and groups dedicated to preserving their historical record. There have been many devoted historians, librarians, and archivists over the years who have shaped and grown the historical collections that today’s church inherits. To continue and improve upon this legacy, record-keepers, historians, church leaders, and anyone interested in the church as it was and as it can be must take an active interest in the preservation and maintenance of our shared heritage. Those who are entrusted with the stewardship of historical materials need to be aware of how all aspects of their work impacts the history being told. They must take seriously the responsibility to work ethically and morally to provide historians and researchers with the highest possible access and most complete historical record possible. Likewise, church leaders must take seriously the importance of historical records and dedicate energy and funds to their care and protection. Only then can record-keepers and historians tell the best and most complete versions of our history.

Works Cited:
Jimerson, Randall C. 2010. Archives Power: Memory, Accountability, and Social Justice. Chicago, Ill: Soc. of American Archivists.


  1. Randall C. Jimerson, Archives power. (Chicago, Ill: Soc. of American Archivists, 2010), 2. 
  2. Jimerson, 4. 
  3. Kauffman, Jason. “Now You’re the Institution,” Anabaptist Historians, Nov. 10, 2016, https://anabaptisthistorians.org/2016/11/10/now-youre-the-institution/ 
  4. Jimerson, 185-86. 
  5. Jimerson, 3. 

From the Shenandoah Valley to No Man’s Land at Christmas

img_6176-2

The most recent edition of the Harmonia Sacra (2008) next to some songbooks by the Ruebush-Kieffer company displayed on Aldine Kieffer’s organ. Menno Simons Historical Library

Simone D. Horst

Though I’ve lived in Harrisonburg and worked with the EMU Special Collections for nearly eight years now, it took a British Christmas advertisement for me to fully appreciate the musical heritage of the Mennonites in the Shenandoah Valley. Sainsbury’s is a supermarket chain in the UK and, like many other retailers in the UK, creates specific holiday-themed advertisements to entice Christmas shoppers to their stores. Two years ago I saw their 2014 Christmas advertisement online  and was intrigued to hear a familiar tune.  For this ad they had partnered with the Royal British Legion to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Christmas Truce of 1914. The beautifully shot commercial features British and German soldiers in the trenches singing “Silent Night/Stille Nacht” and then as they join together in no man’s land the viewer hears the strains of “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms” (starting at 2:09). When I Googled the hymn to figure out why it was so familiar, I discovered that it was written by an Anthony Showalter from Rockingham County, Virginia. Thus my curiosity about Mennonite hymnody in the Valley was piqued.

I knew that Mennonites have long been regarded for their unique tradition of acapella singing and talent for four-part harmony. But I didn’t realize how much influence a man who lived in a town ten miles northwest of where I live and work had in shaping the tradition.

The story begins with Joseph Funk. Funk was the son of Mennonite Bishop Henry Funk and moved to Rockingham County, Virginia from Pennsylvania with his family as a young boy. A bit of a jack-of-all-trades, he worked as a farmer, teacher, herbalist, and translator before settling in Mountain Valley (now Singers Glen), Virginia1 and beginning his work as a printer. He found success in the music business, doing a great deal of translation, compilation, and printing. He also ran singing schools, teaching individuals of all ages how to read music and sing. One of his greatest contributions is his development of shape-note music2; a musical notation that employs different shaped notes to denote pitch. He used this method in his singing schools and it quickly gained popularity as it was easy to learn and effective. Funk believed that all church members should be able to “take part in the ‘divine art’ of singing sacred songs” and went so far as to actively discourage the use of choirs in Mennonite and other denominations in order to encourage congregational singing3. Through his singing schools and shape notes he also introduced Virginia Mennonites to three- and four-part harmony and to singing in English, two practices that later spread throughout most Mennonite communities in North America.4

Funk printed numerous song-books, but his most famous work is the Harmonia Sacra, a collection of ‘genuine church music’ that is a beloved songbook still used in Harmonia Sacra ‘sings’ throughout the Valley.

Funk’s grandson, Aldine Kieffer, continued his musical tradition with his partnership with Ephraim Ruebush. They began their collaboration teaching singing schools together before the outbreak of the Civil War, then after the conflict finished (both served, neither having been raised Mennonite), they began the Ruebush-Kieffer publishing company. They started printing in Singers Glen then moved the operation to Dayton, Virginia, in 18785. Through their singing schools and their song books they taught many people in the Shenandoah Valley and beyond to sing the shape-notes and tunes devised by Funk.

One person so influenced by this legacy was Anthony Johnson (A. J.) Showalter from Rockingham County, Virginia. His father was a singing school teacher from the Funk tradition, so Showalter grew up attending singing schools and studying music. He began his career working for Ruebush-Kieffer as a singing school teacher and in the publishing house. Showalter later moved to Georgia and became a prolific composer; his most recognizable tune is “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms,” which he wrote in 1887 after hearing about two friends losing their wives6.

Though many can recognize the tune, few may know its connection to the Shenandoah Valley or its ties to Mennonite hymnody. Once I learned the hymn’s provenance I felt that it was an odd, yet perhaps apt, juxtaposition to have a hymn born out of a Mennonite tradition of song used in a commercial about war that highlights one of the few peaceful moments of the horrific conflict. I’m sure when the advertising executives chose the song, they had little idea of its connections to an historic peace church tradition in rural Virginia, but to me that makes it even more meaningful. 

*If you are interested in learning more about Joseph Funk and the Ruebush-Kieffer legacy, the Menno Simons Historical Library is a great place to start! We have a nearly comprehensive collection of Ruebush-Kieffer and Funk song books, as well as interesting artifacts like Joseph Funk’s writing chair and Aldine Kieffer’s organ (which is still played occasionally by Lois Bowman, former librarian and wonderful volunteer).

References:

Brunk, Harry Anthony. 1959. History of Mennonites in Virginia 1727-1900. Staunton, Va: McClure Print. Co.

Eskew, Harry, Wm. B. Blake, B. C. Unseld, John Walter Wayland, and Weldon T. Myers. 1995. Two notable shaped-note leaders: combined from Musical million, Dayton, Virginia. Wytheville, Va: Available from Jim Presgraves, ABAA, Bookworm & Silverfish.

McNeil, W. K. “Showalter, Anthony Johnson.” Encyclopedia of American Gospel Music. New York: Routledge, 2005. 339-40.


  1.  The town was founded by Joseph Funk and initially named “Mountain Valley.” It was later renamed Singers Glen to honor his and Ruebush-Kieffer’s contribution to music in the area. 
  2.  Though Funk is often credited with developing the first form of shape note notation, this is likely not the case. But he did develop one unique to his work and schools.  
  3.  Harry Brunk, History of Mennonites in Virginia: 1727-1900, (Staunton, Va.: McClure Print Co., 1959), 121. 
  4.  Brunk, 118. 
  5. Weldon T. Myers, “Aldine S. Kieffer, the Valley Poet, and His Work” Two notable shaped-note leaders. (Wytheville, Va.: Available from Jim Presgraves, ABAA, Bookworm & Silverfish, 1995), 21-25. 
  6.  W.K. McNeil, s.v. “Showalter, Anthony Johnson” Encyclopedia of American Music, (New York: Routledge, 2005), 339-340.