Anna Gerber Yoder, my 7th great-grandmother, lived about 75 miles from where the nation’s founders adopted the Declaration of Independence in 1776. Anna lived on a 160-acre farm in Berks County, Pennsylvania. Age 70 when the Revolution began, she lived through the War as a widow. Some of Anna’s adult children moved to a remote region of western Pennsylvania rather than live amid Revolutionary battles and unrest.
When James Madison wrote the Bill of Rights, he had people like Anna Gerber Yoder’s husband and sons in mind. In a first draft of the Second Amendment, Madison wrote that “no person religiously scrupulous of bearing arms shall be compelled to render military service in person.” Madison was well aware of dissenter groups in Virginia who chose not to bear arms for religious reasons. Congress voted against Madison’s bold defense of religious minorities.
The Mennonites, Brethren, Amish, Quakers, and other dissenters who would not take up weapons in War found a country that tolerated them while not embracing their convictions. But the Republic that sprang from Revolutionary War victory provided an almost unheard-of environment in which to live one’s religious convictions. Most dissenters have been very grateful.
When Anna Gerber Yoder’s descendants were conscripted to fight in every American War since the Revolutionary War, they sought ways to avoid taking up arms.
Nearly 250 years after the country’s founding, on May 6, 2026, I attended an annual Shenandoah Valley Prayer Breakfast in Harrisonburg, Virginia. About 400 guests arrived early for breakfast, coffee, conversation, and prayer. We came from all walks of life, occupations, and denominations.
We prayed for business and nonprofits in our community and for our clergy. With several uniformed police in attendance, we prayed for them and first responders. We prayed for the least of these in our region, for our higher education institutions, for the government, and for students in our communities. Another led us in praying for healthcare and counseling professionals, for agricultural workers, and finally for our world.
When a speaker gave a faith testimony at the Prayer Breakfast, held at James Madison University, I looked at the university’s seal above the podium. The school reduced one of Madison’s statements to “Knowledge is Liberty.”
I’d revise the JMU seal by adding a concept: “Knowledge, Liberty, and Grace.” In 1779, when Anna Gerber Yoder endured the Revolutionary War, wondering how it would end, and when James Madison was elected in Virginia to serve in the Continental Congress, John Newton wrote the lyrics to “Amazing Grace.” Newton’s memorable lyrics became the most popular gospel song in American history. Knowledge and liberty are great, but without an understanding of grace amid the fragility of human nature, knowledge and liberty hold little value. I’m very grateful for a U.S. environment that accepts dissenting groups and fosters religious freedom.
