The Salvation Army, Eberhard Arnold and the Bruderhof

Abstract

This article explores the convergences and divergences between the Salvation Army, Eberhard Arnold and the Bruderhof up to 1939. While the secondary literature makes passing reference to the influence of the Salvation Army on Arnold, no study has examined what it was about this movement which initially attracted him to it and would lead to lifelong appreciation of the Booths and their Army. This article addresses this gap in the literature. It argues that it was the Salvationist presentation of a living, Spirit-filled Christianity as opposed to a dead and establishment-oriented faith in Arnold's mind that best constitutes this relationship.

The Salvation Army and the Bruderhof are two comparatively small parts of the worldwide Church. The international Salvation Army yearbook for 2023 lists nearly two million Salvationists,¹ and the Bruderhof is home to around 3,000 people including children, with over 1,500 committed members.² Yet both denominations or movements³ are well-known at a popular level in church circles even if their respective historical origins and theological emphases are perhaps less understood.

Beyond a few passing references to interactions in the (mainly Bruderhof-based) primary and secondary literature, however, no systematic attempt has been made to analyse the historical and theological convergences and divergences of these two movements.⁴ This article will address this gap in three ways. Firstly, it will examine the historical interactions between Eberhard Arnold – the founder of the Bruderhof – his family and other members with the Salvation Army, both before and after his death in 1935 up to the beginning of the Second World War. Second it will discuss key theological and spiritual convergences between the movements and reflect on which Salvationist emphases may have appealed to the young Arnold. Finally, it will briefly present two areas of divergence between the two movements.

The central argument of the article will be to suggest that while other influences such as the Hutterites⁵ may ultimately have been more significant for Eberhard, his early interactions with the Salvation Army were influential in awakening a radical spirit within him and significant in starting him on the path towards the founding of the Bruderhof. It will be argued that it was the Salvationist presentation of living, Spirit-filled Christianity – as opposed to dead, compromised and establishment-associated religion – that most appealed to Arnold.

Historical interactions

The Salvation Army was founded in 1865 in east London. William Booth, an ordained minister in the Methodist New Connexion⁶ until his resignation in 1861 and now an itinerant preacher, was invited to speak on 2 July 1865 at the Blind Beggar pub in Mile End by the East London Revival Association. Booth took over the Association on the back of this, after its chief evangelist had become ill and members had heard him preach. The name would change to the East London Christian Mission and the Christian Mission until in 1878 it became the Salvation Army. Growth in its first decades was swift, and by the time the first Salvationists began work in Germany in 1886, the movement was already present in twenty countries around the world.⁷

Rebecca Carter-Chand notes how the movement's German arm, the Heilsarmee, brought over most of the same techniques and missiological emphases that had propelled the Salvation Army into public life in the United Kingdom: open-air meetings, selling literature and dedicated social outreach and care. Initially, the Heilsarmee experienced intransigence, suspicion and even hostility from local and national officials, and it was its ‘aggressive proselytizing that offended Germans the most and was at the root of the hostility’.⁸ Indeed, for most Germans, accustomed to infant baptism and confirmation, the whole concept of ‘being saved’ or ‘born again’ was ‘confusing and offensive’.⁹ The popular weekly magazine Die Gartenlaube asserted that the Heilsarmee was a ‘peculiar’ (merkwürdig) product of English sectarianism, writing: ‘Their agenda, first and foremost, is a brawly religiousness. It is precisely with this noise that they make in the streets … that they recruit new members.’¹⁰ Various state Churches, comprising Lutheran, Reformed and United Churches, reacted with similar distrust. One Landeskirche publication in 1899 called the Heilsarmee's evangelistic methods an exercise in ‘duping or outwitting its targets’ (ein Art Überlisten).¹¹

In 1964 Arch Wiggins offered a distinctly Salvationist perspective on this period, outlining how the initial work in Germany was ‘very hard, “conversion” being a word rarely used in connection with any proclamation of the Gospel, and “instant conversion” a term utterly incomprehensible, even to those who professed to be Christians’.¹² He writes of Salvationists being routinely mocked, with sneezing powder, stink bombs and bricks thrown through windows at meetings and beer bottles used to attack Salvationists at open air meetings.¹³ A reporter in the Neues Tagblatte had this to say in response to a Salvationist meeting in the early days in Germany:

The way the Salvation Army people try to convert others is really against all manners and customs, and if they could only keep before themselves the example of our Lord and Master, who did not call his disciples ‘saved,’ they would not go to such extravagancies. One could only think what a pity if this sect should gain ground in our country, for it does not represent a quiet and sober, and serious Christianity, but encourages self-righteousness and spiritual pride.¹⁴

Relations with authorities and the public improved slightly towards the end of the nineteenth and in the early twentieth century, but while the organisation's social work gained it plaudits, it was still seen as a primarily British import and its evangelistic methods were treated with scepticism.¹⁵

In 1891 William Booth visited Germany for the first time and addressed a large crowd in Berlin, the first of twenty-four visits.¹⁶ The work expanded quickly. In 1890 there were just fifty-three full-time officers and fourteen ‘corps’ (roughly equivalent to a church),¹⁷ but by the eve of the First World War there were 491 officers, cadets (trainee officers) and staff, 153 corps and 1,259 ‘local officers’ (non-officer leaders in a corps).¹⁸ Social centres also grew: in 1900 the Heilsarmee operated thirteen social outreach centres, offering support services for people experiencing homelessness and mothers for example; by 1908, there were twenty-nine of these stations.¹⁹

The picture of the Heilsarmee at the turn of the century, then, is one of swift expansion and growing popular appreciation for its social work but enduring suspicion from the ecclesial and state establishment – something not uncommon for the Salvation Army around the world in its early decades.

It was this Heilsarmee that a young Eberhard Arnold first encountered. Born in 1883 in Königsberg, Eberhard grew up in an upper-middle-class family with a proud intellectual heritage and close links to the state Church. His father Carl Franklin had grown up in an aristocratic family, and his mother's family boasted generations of lawyers, educators and theologians.²⁰ In 1888 Carl Franklin was appointed professor of church history at Breslau University, so the family moved from East Prussia to Silesia.

Biographer Markus Baum notes how reserved and serious Carl Franklin was, often absorbed in his work. While the family would gather to hear him read Moravian texts alongside other literature and poems, one question which would never be broached – much to the growing unease of a young Eberhard – was that of class difference. He had an active social conscience from a young age, and ‘it startled him to discover that many people lived a life far simpler than his, and yet could be happy, warm-hearted and genuine’.²¹

One such occasion was Eberhard's first encounter with the Heilsarmee. In the summer of 1899 Eberhard and his sister visited their mother's cousin Lisbeth and her husband Ernst Klein, a ‘militant’ pastor who had been moved by the consistory of the Silesian Protestant Church²² after standing up for workers against the local mill owner. When they arrived in Lichtenrade near Berlin, they found the parsonage barricaded to protect it from windowpanes being shattered and to deter threatening messages after Klein had challenged a choirmaster who he believed had had indecent relationships with schoolgirls. The witness of Ernst and Lisbeth shocked and inspired Eberhard who had never encountered such a ‘courageous, joyful Christianity and a love of Jesus and the poor’.²³

One day a soldier from the Heilsarmee was invited to a meal. Ernst Klein called him ‘brother,’ and all present listened to the guest speak of his work saving souls in poor areas of Berlin. Eberhard was mesmerised by the witness of this Salvationist.²⁴

This encounter was crucial and deeply formative for the young Eberhard, giving him further impetus and direction towards a radical and militant Christianity as opposed to the form he grew up with. Writing about this encounter later, Eberhard's wife Emmy would stress that ‘the brotherly way in which these two men conversed, and the love of Christ which he saw in both, aroused in the sixteen-year-old a deep longing to find the source of this love for himself’.²⁵ Eberhard's sister also recounts the event: ‘One day, … a Salvation Army man – in those days much despised and ridiculed by society – was brought to the table and addressed by Uncle Ernst as “brother” … Eberhard stood outside their communion, yet he longed to be like these men.’²⁶

Eberhard returned to Breslau disorientated and transformed. As Ian Randall puts it, ‘After returning from his stay with his aunt and uncle, Eberhard embarked on an intense spiritual search … Subsequently, Emmy later recounted, Eberhard “experienced conversion”.’²⁷ He began withdrawing from upper-middle-class society with all its social engagements, much to the frustration and anger of his parents.²⁸ When he did attend family gatherings, he would often embarrass them further by speaking of his newfound faith and pointing out the errors of high German society.²⁹ He also quickly engaged with the Heilsarmee in Breslau which worked in the poorest parts of the city with what Eberhard perceived as a humble and Spirit-filled power. Most of the soldier members were malnourished themselves but went about their work joyfully, and Eberhard felt ‘right at home in their company’.³⁰ He soon began preaching at Salvationist worship meetings, selling Der Kriegsruf magazine (The War Cry) and challenging passersby to surrender their lives to Jesus.³¹

Still young and naïve, on one occasion Eberhard criticised the appearance of a man on the street, to which a Heilsarmee captain responded, ‘What would you look like if you had gone through all the suffering of this unfortunate man?’³² As will be demonstrated in the next section, the Salvation Army was not characterised by a revivalism removed from the concerns of the world, but one which put sacrifice and social responsibility front and centre, something that would profoundly impact Eberhard and shape the direction of the rest of his life. As his sister Clara recounted, reflecting on the Heilsarmee's influence on him, ‘Along with the [Army's] sermons on conversion and sanctification, there was a deep social understanding for the outer need of the oppressed masses.’³³

As he prepared to graduate from high school, Eberhard toyed with the idea of forgoing university and joining the Heilsarmee full-time – to the horror of his parents. Around 1905 William Booth himself heard of Eberhard, presumably through one of his visits to Germany, and personally wrote to him to ask him to join the ranks of the Heilsarmee. Unfortunately, the letter has not been preserved. It is referred to by Clara, who notes how seriously he took to the proposition though eventually deciding against it.³⁴

Eberhard continued his studies and would never come close to joining the Salvation Army again, but the association with and influence of the movement upon him would not stop there. During their time of courting, Eberhard and Emmy von Hollander would read the Booths, and during breaks from his studies, Eberhard would still join the Heilsarmee on the streets and corps in Breslau. In June 1907 Eberhard wrote to Emmy reporting on his return ‘from the powerfully blessed meeting. The dear major gave me the entire leadership. The numerous gathered Salvation Army members greeted me with loud hallelujahs and beaming faces’.³⁵ In November 1908 Emmy wrote to Eberhard from Berlin about a Heilsarmee evangelistic campaign she attended where William Booth preached to a crowd of four thousand. Hundreds flocked to the ‘mercy seat’ and gave their lives to Christ.³⁶ Later Emmy would declare her desire to ‘become a truly blessed witness for Jesus, like Catherine Booth’.³⁷ When Eberhard and Emmy founded the very first Bruderhof community in Sannerz in June 1920, it consisted only of them, their five children, Emmy's sister Else von Hollander and, significantly, a Heilsarmee soldier and teacher called Suse Hungar, who inevitably would have brought aspects of her Salvationism to the community.³⁸

While practical interaction between the Arnolds and the Heilsarmee decreased after the early 1910s, there is still a steady flow of references by Eberhard acknowledging its influence on him, and some criticism, until his death in 1935. After moving on from practical involvement with the Heilsarmee, the Arnolds were clearly influenced by other organisations and denominations as well. The most significant of these would ultimately be the Hutterite Anabaptist communities of North America, to which Eberhard would travel to formalise communion with the Bruderhof in 1930. While the secondary literature provides an historical account of the interaction between the Salvation Army and Eberhard, it rarely ventures into deeper theological analysis of this influence which the primary literature clearly implies. Indeed, writing to Mennonite historians in 1929, Eberhard asserted, ‘Our spiritual origin stems partly from Germany's conversion Christianity and revival Christianity (from the circles of the established church, free-church Baptist circles, and the Alliance circles connected to G. Müller's Open Brethren, and the Salvation Army).’³⁹

After Eberhard's death, connections between the Bruderhof and Salvation Army continued, in England especially. The Bruderhof had been under pressure in Nazi Germany for their refusal to acquiesce with state authorities and ideology, and they eventually had no option but to leave.⁴⁰ Two communities were initially established in the mid to late 1930s, the ‘Cotswold Bruderhof’ in the Cotswold region of western England, and ‘Bruderhof House’ in Birmingham.⁴¹ Eberhard and Emmy's son Heini and his wife Annemarie were members of the Cotswold community. Writing from Bruderhof House in 1938, Heini shares how they had recently been ‘with the Salvation Army. I really have to tell you that I was deeply impressed’. After recounting various songs they sang during the meeting and the message from the officer, he writes, ‘One thing I can really say, every time we come here the contact gets warmer and warmer. I don't know whether I shall ever be able to speak here at all in public, I have not brought up the subject. Perhaps no one will be brought to the Church through this contact, but I have the feeling that it will be a contact that will mean something for both sides.’⁴²

On 26 February 1939 a joint worship service between the Bruderhof and Birmingham Temple Salvation Army corps was arranged at the Cotswold Bruderhof. A transcript of the meeting reveals stress on the importance of unity in a world ‘bound in egoism and sin’, the centrality of surrender and the fire of the Holy Spirit and the rejection of wealth. It reports that several songs were played by the Salvation Army band.⁴³

The historical source material, then, shows that the Salvation Army exerted a strong spiritual and theological influence on the Arnolds in this key formation period leading to the establishment of the first Bruderhof, and the cordial relationship between the two groups saw renewed activity in England after Eberhard's death. While these sources outline the practical thoughts and interactions between the two movements, however, little theological reflection has been done to assess the convergences and divergences between the movements. Baum and Randall are the major secondary sources chronicling the history of the Arnolds and how the early Bruderhof communities were established. Both provide historical accounts of interactions with the Salvation Army, but apart from briefly suggesting the social and spiritual impact, there remains a significant gap in this regard. What was it about the Salvation Army that drew the Arnolds to consider it among the major spiritual roots of the Bruderhof?

Theological and spiritual influence and convergences

When a teenage Eberhard encountered the simple yet profound witness of the Salvation Army soldier at Ernst and Lisbeth's house in 1899 it was a significant moment. This and subsequent engagement with the Salvation Army in the following years can most adequately be characterised by the contrast Eberhard saw between dead Christianity or religion and Spirit-filled, living Christianity or faith.

The faith Eberhard grew up with under the influence of his family was a solemn, serious and respectable affair, rarely leaving the confines of upper-middle class society. It was firmly associated with German high intellectual society and the Prussian state Church, which ‘meant so infinitely much to his father’.⁴⁴ The Salvation Army that Eberhard witnessed must have seemed like an alien world to the religion aligned with wealth, power and patriotism and it captured his imagination.

The Salvation Army has its roots in Methodism (and especially the branches of Methodism which resulted in what became holiness revivalism). As William Booth once declared, ‘I worshipped everything that bore the name Methodist. To me there was one God, and John Wesley was his prophet.’⁴⁵ Although it developed some of its own specific emphases (for example discarding the dominical sacraments in 1883), its theological and ecclesial identity can be classified as Methodist, something made clear by the Christian Mission's ‘Articles of Faith’ (eventually becoming the eleven finalised doctrines in 1878) which are almost identical to the doctrines of the Methodist New Connexion. While it is not easy to categorise Wesley himself, who held both conservative and radical views regarding the state and established Church, the nonconformist tradition he unintentionally set in motion (often aligned with the Chartist movement) was frequently in tension with the establishment in societies in which it operated.⁴⁶ The Salvation Army largely continued in this vein when it burst into public life in the mid- to late nineteenth century.

Pamela Walker notes how in its first decades reactions to the Salvation Army ranged from condescending criticism to outright vitriolic anger.⁴⁷ Its aggressive evangelism, anti-intellectualism and working-class character, promotion of women in ministry and fanatical theology caused great concern: ‘The Army was denounced as a blasphemous body of notoriety seekers, promulgating unsound theology. These charges were made in the press, from pulpits, and in a mass of pamphlet literature.’⁴⁸ The movement was compared to the Roman Catholic Church in the way it undermined English sensibilities and respectability. Andrew Eason argues that in comparison even with other nonconformist movements (let alone the Anglican Church), early Salvationist songs were devoid of patriotic fervour.⁴⁹ The Revd Cunningham Geike was concerned that the Salvation Army would undermine England's ‘splendid national character’, which had been formed by the Church of England and would only be damaged by ‘the fantastic doings of Mr Booth’.⁵⁰ As Walker puts it:

William Booth was accused of a foreign deceit that would threaten England's national character. Salvationist women usurped a place denied to them by the Bible and tradition. The sensational meetings did little to teach self-restraint to those whose excesses were regarded as the source of poverty and social disorder. The language of Salvationist preaching and hymns threatened the respect and dignity with which all things sacred were to be held … The dean of Carlisle asserted the Army's teachings led to ‘the subversion of the social system and [tended] directly to the uprooting of every Christian church’.⁵¹

Little of this criticism deterred or concerned the early Salvation Army, however. Indeed, by theological and missiological design, the Booths positioned their movement as specifically anti-establishment in line with how they perceived the witness of the New Testament. Catherine Booth was perhaps the most stringent and articulate on this point. In a series of lectures delivered in 1887, drawn together in a book named Popular Christianity, she forcefully attacked what she perceived as the dominant and dormant form of Christianity in Britain of her day:

Popular Christianity distinguishes itself by nothing more than by a systematic misrepresentation of right and wrong, calling evil good and good evil. Just as in the days of Christ the spirit and essence of the law of God was set aside and made of no effect by traditional interpretations of the letter, so in our time interpretations and expositions, in direct antagonism to the plainest words of Christ, are palmed upon the world by many of the official representatives of Christianity.⁵²

She expands and illustrates that on themes of wealth, violence and power, establishment-oriented Christianity is shorn of the fire of the Holy Spirit. Rather than blaming the establishment itself, which has always offered temptation to water down the offence of the gospel message, she blames a weak and compromised Church for this apostasy:

It is a literal fact that in these modern sanctuaries any manifestation of the LIVING GOD is the last thing expected or desired. Imagine the scare and horror of excitement and the intense surprise if He came, as He did once in an upper room, with His baptism of fire, in the middle of one of these quiet and soothing services next Sunday morning! There would be a quicker and more precipitous exit of many of the professed worshippers than there was from the temple when He drove them out with a scourge of small cords!⁵³

The central theme running through these lectures (and much other early Salvationist writing) is the challenge to the assumption that Christianity goes hand in hand with societal respectability. William summarised this notion succinctly in 1872: ‘The great curse of the church is RESPECTABILITY. Throw reputation and so called respectability overboard.’⁵⁴ Indeed, the witness of the early Christians suggests precisely the opposite: Spirit-filled, living Christianity is an inherently disruptive, persecuted, earth-shaking entity – something the Booths felt the Spirit had inspired in their nascent movement. As Catherine would poignantly put it later in 1888, ‘Christ did not come to civilise the world, but to save it, and bring it back to God.’⁵⁵

This strand of Salvation Army theology and missiology was demonstrably present in the Heilsarmee that Eberhard Arnold encountered at the turn of the century. Carter-Chand notes how German Salvationists emphasised anti-establishment elements in the German Reformation and tradition of German Pietism in the same way that British Salvationists had presented the Anglophone world with the continuity between the movement and the transatlantic Great Awakenings.⁵⁶

While Eberhard and the Bruderhof would ultimately not adopt the Salvation Army's forceful and direct form of evangelism (‘We are not a Salvation Army, and we do not want to urge or press anyone’),⁵⁷ they would continue in this tradition of spiritual awakening beyond what they saw as an impotent dominant Christianity. Reflecting on this influence later, Eberhard would confirm the importance of the Salvation Army:

Essential to a living Church was the principle of Life. Christianity has nothing dead … It was this aliveness that gave rise to the social work of rescuing people's inner lives … The Salvation Army and the Quakers are widely differing ways of life. Yet these two, contrasting types though they were, both had a stimulating effect on our own movement in its beginnings. The Salvation Army did this through awakening people to repentance and faith, so as to save their souls.⁵⁸

Other points of convergence between Eberhard, the Bruderhof and the Salvation Army inevitably fall under the wider theme of living Christianity over dead. For this article, two will be illustrative.

First, Eberhard was clearly influenced by the Heilsarmee's social witness and stress upon simplicity, poverty and responding to people's physical and social needs. There is ongoing debate regarding the relation between salvation of the soul and body in the first decades of the Salvation Army.⁵⁹ It is true that certain strands of nineteenth-century holiness revivalism that impacted the Booths stressed a disembodied salvation and named individual sin as the cause of poverty above more systemic causes. The Booths, however, were always in agreement with Wesley's Arminianism and concern about antinomianism⁶⁰ – if it was possible to lose salvation, it was crucial for a believer's sanctification to be expressed through works like care for the poor. Rehearsing generational debates between Arminians and Calvinists, they were always wary of the Reformed emphasis on the sovereignty of God if this meant detracting from human free will and ability to respond to God's grace. If any divide between soul and body initially existed, William Booth's famous dictum soon defined the practical reality: it is impossible to preach to someone with an empty stomach.

In this regard, part of Catherine Booth's critique of respectable Christianity was the indifference which comfortable Christianity showed to those struggling at the bottom of society:

What a name may be acquired in modern Christendom by the judicious use of a few hundred pounds per year, without so much as speaking a kind word to a brother or sister in need, or denying yourself a moment's ease or a single luxury! Is it not notorious that in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred it is simply the possession of a certain amount of wealth which gives a man or woman his or her grade in religious as well as in civil society, and that people chosen for and entrusted with leading positions in churches, are simply those who have the best houses of their own?⁶¹

Eberhard was clearly impacted by his encounter and interactions with the Heilsarmee, and it appears to have been the perception of joyful, Spirit-filled ministry despite (or perhaps because of) the simple, poverty-embracing witness of the Salvationists that inspired him.⁶² The Booths’ critique of comfortable Christianity pierced his conscience and challenged the form of Christianity he had grown up with in the Prussian state Church. Reflecting later on his youth, Eberhard would stress that in relation to other Christian circles he was involved in, ‘There was more in the Salvation Army. For there a deep social understanding for the outer and especially the inner need of the oppressed classes was added to the Methodist way of preaching conversion and salvation.’⁶³ Members of the Bruderhof would have to renounce private property, and the group would hold all things in common. The early Bruderhof communities often did not have enough to go around, and simple living is a key tenet of Bruderhof life to this day.

Eberhard would eventually come to a more mature position, rejecting close Church-State relations after the First World War, which would incorporate sources beyond just the Salvation Army, but statements like the following in 1924 would have more than a resemblance to Catherine Booth:

The question is whether the world church, which in practice has sided with wealth and protected it, which has sanctified Mammon, christened warships and blessed soldiers going into war, whether this church has not in essence denied Him whom it confesses with words. The question is whether the Christian state … is not the most anti-divine institution that ever existed. The question is whether a state that protects privilege and wealth as well as the organized church is not diametrically opposed to what is to come when God comes and Jesus establishes the order of justice.⁶⁴

Another area where the influence of Salvationist spirituality can be seen is Eberhard's emphasis on fully surrendering one's life to God's will as an expression of sanctification and holiness. This was a key theme in the holiness revivalism that inspired the Booths. The revivalist preacher and writer Phoebe Palmer, for instance, who played a major role in the formation of the early Salvation Army, put great stress upon a full surrender ‘of body, soul, and spirit; time, talents, and influence’, which are all placed on the altar as a ‘living sacrifice’ in line with Matthew xxiii.19.⁶⁵

There are not many themes the Booths returned to more often in their writing and speaking than surrender to God's purposes in the search for holiness and sanctification. A few brief quotations illustrate this language which is repeated time and again. Speaking in 1881 and reflecting upon Abraham's willingness to give up Isaac, Catherine recounts how the Salvation Army is

constantly talking to thousands of people who know just what God wants of them. We cannot bring many of them any new light or new Gospel … My dear friends, let me persuade you to trample under foot that idol, to tear down that refuge of lies … When you come to a full surrender, my friends, you will get what you have been seeking.⁶⁶

Another of William Booth's famous dictums stresses that ‘the greatness of a man's power is the measure of his surrender’.⁶⁷ In a little book entitled Purity of heart he asserts, ‘Purifying faith compels the surrender of everything that stands in the way of the possession of holiness. It is willing to pay the price … Oh, my comrades, have you got thus far? Does your faith duly value the treasure we are talking about? If not, it cannot be said to be purifying faith.’⁶⁸

While never specifically naming the Booths as the inspiration, there are various occasions when Eberhard and Emmy use similar language. In their engagement letters from March 1907 to December 1909, a period of active involvement with the Heilsarmee, Eberhard wrote often to Emmy on this theme. In order to understand Scripture, ‘we must be utterly sincere in having surrendered ourselves totally to Jesus’.⁶⁹ Writing about his sister Betty, Eberhard worries (in a manner very similar to the above quotation from Catherine Booth) that she ‘doesn't possess new life in and for Jesus … Obviously I hope that she will still be saved, but that won't be possible without complete surrender’.⁷⁰ One year before their wedding, Eberhard confirms that ‘the main things he [God] wants for me are 1) an awareness of sin and humbling, 2) full surrender and renunciation of the world, and 3) deep community of love with God and Jesus’.⁷¹

This theme of surrender is one that would remain with Eberhard as the Bruderhof developed in the 1920s and 1930s. Writing in 1925 on the theme of community living, he stressed that ‘in the context of church community, justice does not consist in making and satisfying even reasonable demands for personal rights; on the contrary, it consists in giving each member the opportunity to risk everything, to surrender himself completely so that God may become incarnate in him and so that the kingdom may break into his life with power’.⁷² Later in 1933, after a novice member of the Bruderhof abandoned the community and his family, Eberhard reflected that ‘people can remain here only if they have surrendered unconditionally and forever to the gathering, uniting power of Jesus Christ’.⁷³

Surrender seemingly remained a focus for the Bruderhof after Eberhard's death too. At the joint worship service between the Bruderhof and Salvation Army at the Cotswold Bruderhof in 1939, Bruderhof member Balz Trümpi reflected:

The love of our [Salvationist] friends reminds me of fire; and because of that I am reminded of a fire in my own heart and of a fire which we experienced on our Alm Bruderhof … [T]he fire burned me because I felt that I still had not left all to follow him … It was my daily prayer that I might be led to such people as were ready to give up and surrender all for Jesus’ sake.⁷⁴

In summary, while the Booths and their Salvation Army were certainly not the only, or even the most significant influence, it is clear they had an important and under-appreciated impact on Eberhard and the nascent Bruderhof communities. The main thrust of this impact can be summarised as helping Eberhard contrast a dead, powerless form of Christianity, with which he had grown up, to what he perceived to be a Spirit-filled, living and convicting Christianity represented (among others) by the Salvation Army. Under this central theme, other subthemes can be noticed – two of which this article has attempted to outline: the Salvation Army helped Eberhard better understand the social responsibilities required of true Christians and also the spiritual importance of personal and collective surrender to God. This is not an exhaustive list of areas of congruence; other areas can be identified such as the centrality of eschatology for Salvationist⁷⁵ and Bruderhof⁷⁶ thinking and action, the importance of retrieving Early Church practice in light of modern apostasy,⁷⁷ and association with but ultimate rejection of political socialism,⁷⁸ and these may be fruitful areas for future research.

Divergences between Eberhard, the Bruderhof and the Salvation Army

The focus of this article is the attempt to draw out the previously under-analysed and under-appreciated influence of the Salvation Army upon Eberhard and the Bruderhof. Much could be said, of course, about the divergences between the two movements or denominations. Eberhard ultimately decided not to join the ranks of the Heilsarmee, and there are various reasons for this. It is interesting to briefly note some such divergences which can be considered along with the convergences noted in the previous section.

Despite Eberhard's lifelong appreciation of the Salvation Army, a common criticism is the movement's lack of a biblical foundation. Even during the time when both were deeply involved with the Heilsarmee, Eberhard asks Emmy: ‘Had you known that the Salvation Army is at work in such a many-sided way? We want to learn from them, since joining them has to be impossible for us, according to the Bible.’⁷⁹ During his trip to the North American Hutterites in 1930, Eberhard observes to Emmy that the Hutterites view the Salvation Army in a positive light as a group whose ‘words prove themselves in deed’, and ‘the Salvation Army is well known on the hofs’, though ‘they recognize the weakness of its biblical content but also the strength of its insistent earnestness’.⁸⁰ In 1934 Eberhard reflects how he ‘withdrew and entered the Salvation Army, because I saw there a connection between the enlightened preaching and the social application, and I almost became a practical co-worker. What kept me from doing this was the lack of clarity for the deeper biblical truths’.⁸¹ While never specifying these criticisms, other comments suggest what the source of this concern may have been.

Writing after Eberhard's death, Emmy reflects that while he seriously considered joining the Salvation Army, ‘he realized more and more that they approached things in a rather one-sided, religious way, and that they lacked a certain depth in the way they handled the various social problems with which they were confronted’.⁸² As well as the later perception of an overly simplified understanding of social issues, there is evidence that both Emmy and Eberhard held concerns about some forms of Pentecostalism and an over-emphasis on the work of the Spirit. In 1907 a group from Norway came to Halle and Emmy reports to Eberhard that ‘their focus is not the cross … Rather, it is being filled with the Spirit, and (it seems to me) they try to force this to happen’. Eberhard replies: ‘Preaching in the Spirit without proclaiming Christ is very dangerous fanaticism. The Spirit is there only to glorify Christ and to testify to him and his words.’⁸³

Randall notes how the ‘conjoining of Christ and the Spirit was something to which Eberhard Arnold would return again and again’, and how ‘the language of “souls” might imply more concern with the Holy Spirit's work in inner spiritual life than with its outworking in human relationships’.⁸⁴ Indeed, writing in 1933, Eberhard would reflect,

We here are not a welfare institution or a soul-saving institute [Seelenrettungs-Institut]. The saving of the individual soul is not our main concern. In this respect, we differ from Bethel and also from the Salvation Army. Certainly we too carry on good works, and certainly people are also saved, but that is not the first concern, not the most important thing. Our interest is in the great, holy cause, the kingdom of God, and mission to the world.⁸⁵

In a 1925 letter to his sister Hannah, reflecting on association with revivalist movements, Eberhard comments:

What I do oppose energetically is something altogether different: when in spite of the experience of forgiveness people look away from this great heart of God and remain bogged down in their own small heart; that people get completely lost in their personal experience, their little, personal, self-centered life – precisely in the religious sphere. They place a new self-centered life, an egotistical striving for personal purity, goodness, and happiness at the heart of their piety; even work they do for others is done with an eye to their own happiness.⁸⁶

In 1934 Eberhard would connect this criticism directly to the Salvation Army:

It is a fact that this Christianity of experience that concentrates on the individual soul cannot endure for long. And so we find the peculiarity that these revival movements have, of constantly flowing and ebbing. Ziegelwald – Möttlingen – Salvation Army – Bethel. The constant attempt to maintain the same thoughts and feelings afresh is impossible for the weak spirit in the long run; for the Spirit created by God is greater than this one thought: sin – repentance – grace. This is how it comes about that all these Christians for show [Paradechristen] have to create something else in addition. This will either be politics, or else a change in their occupation. So they postpone inner experiences until the morning and the evening, and during the day they live in their occupations, just like the whole world.⁸⁷

In one sense, these are curious comments as Eberhard demonstrably learned from and was inspired by the Salvation Army's kingdom-oriented social action and spirituality. Indeed, at times this comes close to a double standard in Eberhard's thinking and reflections. To suggest that the Salvation Army was unconcerned by the ‘kingdom of God and mission to the world’ seems not only to contradict Eberhard's own experience with the Heilsarmee but to ignore the plethora of evidence showing that the Salvation Army has one of the most outwardly focused missiologies in the worldwide Church, combining evangelism with social action as a core part of its identity. To claim that impoverished Salvationists serving the slums of Berlin or other cities were ‘Christians for show’ whose lives differed little from the rest of the world also demonstrably contradicts the inspiration he received from Salvationist witness earlier in his life.

Interpreting these criticisms, however, needs to be done contextually. Firstly, all direct criticisms are in private correspondence and Eberhard never shared these reflections in public on an organisation for which he admitted having ongoing respect. Secondly, many of the criticisms come after the National Socialists came to power in the 1930s and when the Bruderhof experienced increasing alienation and persecution while he perceived other Christian groups (like the Heilsarmee) were compromising their faithful witness.⁸⁸ This likely impacted upon Eberhard's assessment of the Salvation Army at this time.

If some of Eberhard's critiques are wide of the mark, others are arguably more accurate. His central concern regarding Salvationism appears to be that the form of holiness revivalism that the Booths drew from might be strong on individual repentance and sanctification, but often does not lead to an outworking of biblical Gemeinde or community. Criticism of the movement's radical holiness soteriology can and has been made by those in the Salvation Army: that is, this soteriology can stress individual experience to the detriment of koinonia,⁸⁹ sometimes veers towards unhealthy pietism and hierarchy,⁹⁰ and privileges pneumatology above Christology, the incarnation and the doctrine of creation.⁹¹ While never specifically naming this as the focus of the ‘unbiblical’ foundation of Salvationism, it would make sense if it was this lack of attention to the outward manifestation of communal life and biblical ecclesiology, something which he eventually found with the Hutterites.

At one stage Eberhard critiques the Salvation Army in London for not doing enough to alleviate poverty in the East End. The reason, he suggests, is that ‘they did not establish complete community in all things, including material goods’.⁹² This is a reference to the fact that the Salvation Army did not and does not insist on members sharing everything in common as is the practice in Bruderhof communities. While this might represent an unrealistic expectation of one organisation's ability to eradicate poverty (and a double standard, as the Bruderhof was not able to do this in any area where it operated), it is a clear indication of Eberhard's view of the Salvation Army: it was not concerned enough about Gemeinde. As he would put it succinctly in 1935, commenting on the work of Doris Lester in Kingsley Hall: ‘As in the Salvation Army … a purely personal Christianity is insufficient for true community.’⁹³

In addition to this, an interesting point can be made regarding attitude towards the state and wider establishment. I noted in the previous section that the Salvation Army helped Eberhard articulate his discomfort with the form of Christianity he had grown up with – one which had strong links to the state and wealth, and which was closely associated with societal respectability. While this was certainly true, an inverse pattern can be noted regarding the directions of Eberhard and the Salvation Army in this regard. Baum observes how, on the eve of the First World War, Eberhard ‘had lost his youthful edge. Had he grown more staid and middle-class? It almost seems so’.⁹⁴ He wrote in support of the German war effort and ‘for a long time [he] swam with the broad current of popular sentiment’.⁹⁵ As the war progressed, however, he became more disillusioned with patriotism and by 1919, after a sustained period of reflection on the Sermon on the Mount, Eberhard began to express a pacifistic understanding of faith that would famously develop into the more mature non-violent theology of the Bruderhof today.⁹⁶

Despite this brief return to a more respectable and popular form of Christianity, the general direction of Eberhard's life is clear: from growing up in the state Church of his parents with all its establishment links, he would come to reject these and pursue a more radical form of the faith which held the wisdom of the world and the approval of wider society in much lower regard.

The Salvation Army, on the other hand, can arguably be seen (at least in the Western world) to take an inverse path. When it burst into public life in the mid- to late nineteenth century it held all the hallmarks of a radical Methodist, non-conformist and revivalist mission: often despised by State and Church authorities, causing offence and public disruption, and far from being concerned about its external reputation, it took pride in such missional tactics. Eason notes, however, that a shift can be observed between 1878 and 1914 where the Salvation Army's attitude to the British Empire, patriotism and its external reputation began to soften, in particular after William Booth launched his ‘Darkest England’ project in 1890 – an ambitious attempt to raise the ‘submerged tenth’ from absolute poverty, and for which he needed to raise significant funds from the public.⁹⁷ Walker puts it succinctly when she states how, by the early twentieth century, the Salvation Army had ‘moved from being a sensational, revivalist sect at odds with the Church, police, and local governments to being a religious organization with a social service wing that was often the more prominent part and with strong ties to other Christian and state-run agencies’.⁹⁸

Carter-Chand also perceives this development with regard to the Heilsarmee: while it was received with suspicion and even persecution in its early years, a desire to become accepted in wider German society began to emerge from the 1890s onwards.⁹⁹ This does not mean that much of the Heilsarmee did not still exhibit its disruptive and radical tendencies when Eberhard encountered it – institutions do not change overnight – but there is a clear change of direction towards greater concern about public image from around this time. This is especially the case with regard to the Salvation Army's social work, which would increasingly become divorced from the worshipping body of Salvationists in corps.¹⁰⁰ It was noted earlier that Wiggins's account of the Heilsarmee's history between 1886 and 1904 exhibited much public opposition in Germany. In his subsequent account of the period 1904–14, there is a marked change in tone with ‘prominent German statesmen also [giving] unstinted acclamation to the work of the Army’,¹⁰¹ and the increased social work ‘attracting the influential people of the country’.¹⁰²

Carter-Chand suggests that the Heilsarmee eventually embraced German patriotism in order to overcome a long-standing inferiority complex alongside the need to keep public donations up.¹⁰³ This would tragically lead it to a quietism or even support of the Nazi regime when it came to power in the 1930s, something the Bruderhof managed to resist, arguably because of the inverse journey the group had taken in this regard.¹⁰⁴

Links between the Salvation Army, Eberhard Arnold and the Bruderhof have been under-analysed and under-appreciated. While it would be inaccurate to claim that the Booths and the Salvation Army were the most significant influence on Eberhard and the movement he founded, there is good reason to consider it a meaningful and significant relationship and source of inspiration. Indeed, it was the witness of a Salvationist who first awakened Eberhard to what he perceived to be a living, Spirit-filled faith, as opposed to what he would later perceive as the lifeless, popular and compromised form of faith that he had grown up with.

Both Eberhard and Emmy were practically involved with the Heilsarmee, read and were demonstrably inspired by the Booths and the historical record shows a continuing relationship between the Bruderhof and the Salvation Army until the Second World War. This historical account is backed up by Eberhard in his writings, both specifically naming the influence of the Salvation Army and through wider theological and spiritual continuities like the emphasis on surrendering one's life to Christ. While this influence is clear, it is also evident that Eberhard moved beyond the Booths in his own thinking, critiquing their individualistic understanding of holiness and finding a theology with deeper political gravity, able to withstand the lure of nationalism exhibited by the National Socialists in Germany, when most German Salvationists were not. In this regard, the examples of both movements’ attitudes (and how they developed) towards the state and wider society should be instructive and of interest to Churches and denominations today.

Finally, as well as filling a gap in the literature, linking two small, but well-known movements in church history, this study outlines an example of the influence and interaction between two wider traditions, namely Methodist non-conformism, and Anabaptism. The early Salvationist critique of respectability and establishment links stayed with Eberhard and found continuity with his Anabaptism. Historically, even after Eberhard formalised relations with the Hutterites in 1930 and passed away in 1935, there are documented examples of interactions in the UK until the Second World War. The retrieval and presentation of historical interaction and influence in this article may provide further opportunity and impetus for interaction and fellowship between these movements and traditions today.