History

Zinzendorf and the Moravians: A Christian History Translation

This translation into English from the German is the first known time that this account has been published in America. It was originally written during the years 1766 and 1767. Reverend Christian George Andrew Oldendorp had spent these years in the Danish West Indies studying the geography, fauna and flora of the Islands. Of special interest was the study of the history and language of the black slaves and particularly he chronicled the influence and effect of missionary outreach in the area within the generation following its establishment. His inquiry was preserved in more than three thousand pages of manuscripts. In 1777, Rev. John Jacob Bossart, professor at the Moravian Theological Seminary in Saxony, condensed Oldendorp’s accounts into a volume of over a thousand pages. This substantial work, published in 1777, remains one of the most interesting and valuable contributions to Moravian missionary literature. The two chapters presented here offer rare insight into the early days of modern missions.

Copyright © 1982 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine. Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

History

The Insignia of the Order of the Grain of Mustard Seed

With five other students at Halle, Zinzendorf formed a society which eventually developed into The Order of the Mustard Seed. A distinctive shield and insignia were developed: “No man liveth unto himself. ” Its express purpose was to be a leaven among all Christians and to labor for the salvation and fellowship of all regardless of denominations. In later years, churchmen and statesmen of many origins, including the Archbishops of Canterbury and Paris, the King of Denmark and General Oglethorpe, became members of the order.

Copyright © 1982 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine. Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

History

The Rich Young Ruler Who Said Yes

In this series

Nicolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf, heir to one of Europe’s leading families, was destined for high duties in 18th Century Europe. Since 1662 all males in the Zinzendorf clan bore the title of count in the Holy Roman Empire; thus young Nicolaus Ludwig became at birth Count Zinzendorf.

His mother recorded his birth in the family Bible, noting on May 26, 1700 in Dresden the “gift of my first-born son, Nicolaus Ludwig,” asking “the Father of mercy” to “govern the heart of this child that he may walk blamelessly in the path of virtue … may his path be fortified in his Word.”

This child inherited, as is evident, a godly parentage within Lutheranism, and he would remain a Lutheran throughout his sixty years. But history would know him as a Moravian. Yet, if he were alive today he would probably be satisfied with neither. Perhaps the first churchman to use the term “ecumenism” in speaking of the church, this man-ahead-of-his-time had one obsession—the spiritual unity of Christian believers—Lutherans, Moravians, all.

Zinzendorf’s inheritance, spiritually speaking, was that particular brand of Lutheranism influenced by Pietism. The Pietists sought to know Christ in a personal way. For them, walking with the Savior meant being separate from the world, shunning the dance and theater and idle talk. It meant living in obedience to Christ in his Word and loving him with the heart in song and prayer. Their spiritual founder, Philip Jacob Spener, was the godfather of young Ludwig and a beloved friend of the count’s remarkable grandmother, Baroness Henriette Katherina van Gersdorf.

Six weeks after young Ludwig’s birth, his father died of tuberculosis, leaving him to be raised by three women—his mother; her sister, Aunt Henrietta; and his grandmother. Only the latter two were close to him in his childhood for his mother remarried when he was three. Zinzendorf went to live with Aunt Henrietta and Lady Gersdorf on the latter’s estate, Gross-Hennersdorf, 60 miles east of Dresden. He would know scores of moves in his lifetime, but few would be more crucial to his destiny than this one.

The young count grew up in an atmosphere bathed in prayer, Bible reading and hymn-singing. His dearest treasure next to the Bible was Luther’s Smaller Catechism. In childlike sincerity he wrote love letters to Jesus and tossed them out of the window of the castle tower. When Swedish soldiers overran Saxony, they entered the castle at Gross-Hennersdorf and burst “into the room where the six-year-old count happened to be at his customary devotions,” notes John Weinlick in Count Zinzendorf. “They were awed as they heard the boy speak and pray … the incident was prophetic of the way the count was to move others with the depths of his religious experience the rest of his sixty years.”

Young “Lutz,” as he was called, was not allowed to “forget that he was a count” even though growing up in this Pietist environment. He was tutored and trained, disciplined and cultured for future service in the court.

At age 10 Zinzendorf said farewell to childhood. He was off to Halle to attend the Paedagogium of the staunch Pietist disciple, August Francke. There Zinzendorf spent his next six years under the watchful eye of a tutor assigned by his guardian, Count Otto Christian, and under the very nose of Francke himself—he and a few other sons of the nobility took meals in the Francke household. His pious ways and high-born status, together with a rather frail constitution inherited from his father, made him a perfect target for the taunts and tricks of his peers.

Zinzendorf proved himself an apt pupil. At age 15 he could read the classics and the New Testament in Greek, was fluent in Latin and “French was as natural to him as his native German.” While not excellent in Hebrew, he showed definite poetic gifts. One biographer says he “often was able to compose faster than he could put his thoughts on paper, a gift he retained for life.”

Yet at Halle the Lord fashioned the young count through influences not entirely academic. Prior to his arrival, the Danish-Halle Mission had sent two evangelists to India. One of these had returned to Halle and often at mealtime in the Francke home would tell of his experiences. Zinzendorf noted in his diary, something of the effect Halle had on him:

Daily meetings in professor Francke’s house, the edifying accounts concerning the kingdom of Christ, the conversation with witnesses of the truth in distant regions, the acquaintances with several preachers, the flight of divers exiles and prisoners … the cheerfulness of that man of God in the work of the Lord, together with various trials attending it, increased my zeal for the cause of the Lord in a powerful manner …

Wittenberg

Instead of continuing at Halle, Zinzendorf pursued his university studies at Wittenberg in compliance with the directions of his guardian. This strong hold of Lutheran orthodoxy was not friendly turf for Pietists, but it was the proper place for a noble son to prepare for court service. The count’s grandmother, concerned about his inclination toward the ministry, sternly told him that his place was in the service of the state. Hamilton, in his History of the Moravian Church, notes how Otto Christian issued precise instructions “respecting the conduct and the studies” of Zinzendorf. A sample from Zinzendorf’s diary reveals how his tutor had mapped out his day for him—and how his “heart religion” was clearly intact at age 15:

This week I began the plan of spending a whole hour, from six to seven in the morning, as well as in the evening from eight to nine, and for fifteen minutes at a quarter of ten, in prayer. Also I resolved to pursue the study of civil law with all my energy, since I expect all sorts of interruptions this coming summer.

Examinations with Mencken. At ten o’clock I fenced. At eleven I studied the pandects. At twelve I dined. At one I played badminton (schlug volants). At two I drew. At three I attended a lecture in the history of the Reich. At four I danced. At five Bardin (French tutor) was here. At six I studied civil law. At seven I dined. At eight I prayed. At nine I studied Hoppi’s examination.

Hamilton notes that at Wittenberg “his Hallensian prejudices against the authorities at Wittenberg wore off … he reamed to appreciate these men.” True to his “obsession” for Christian unity, while still a student he put forth a great deal of effort to reconcile Francke and the scholars at Wittenberg, but to no avail. Zinzendorf always remained at heart a Pietist and was grieved later when Francke’s son and successor at Halle opposed what he was doing at Herrnhut.

In the customary fashion of the day, Zinzendorf completed his studies at Wittenberg by embarking on a “grand tour” of centers of learning on the continent. First in the company of his half-brother, Friedrich Christian, he attended lectures in Holland, studied English and visited Dutch cities. Then in 1720 he and his tutor went to Paris where he stayed for six months. He toured the lavish palace at Versailles, but was more impressed with relief work carried on at a Paris hotel. Here was forged a strong bond of friendship with the primate of the Roman Catholic archdiocese, Cardinal Noailles. Exposed to the fine arts and cultural riches, his heart inclined more and more to the Savior—less and less toward wordly interests.

“What Have You Done for Me?”

All of his life, the young count would point to one experience on the “tour” which influenced him most. In the art museum at Dusseldorf, he encountered the Savior. Seeing Domenico Feti’s Ecce Homo (“Behold, the man”), a portrait of the thorn-crowned Jesus, and reading the inscription below it—“I have done this for you; what have you done for me?” Zinzendorf said to himself, “I have loved Him for a long time, but I have never actually done anything for Him. From now on I will do whatever He leads me to do.”

The rich young ruler had said yes!

Upon reaching maturity in May 1721, Zinzendorf purchased from his grandmother the estate at Berthelsdorf, only a few miles from Gross Hennersdorf. That month he also entered service in the royal court, but that required his presence for only certain months of the year. In Dresden, he opened his apartment for informal religious services on Sundays and soon attracted “a growing circle of adherents.” A dominant theme of life then—and for all his adult years—was that he considered himself a pilgrim. His best known hymn written at that time, reflects that mood:

Jesus, still lead on,

Till our rest be won,

And although the way be cheerless,

We will follow, calm and fearless.

Guide us by Thy hand

To our fatherland.

This hymn, in 33 stanzas, is known around the world and sung in some 90 languages.

Marriage—And Herrnhut

Biographer Weinlick indicates that the young count’s brush with devout Roman Catholics, especially in France, caused him to study the Old and New Testaments on the subject of marriage. After much prayer and consulting with friends, he decided to marry, “but to choose only a partner who shared his ideals. He found that person in the young Countess Erdmuth Dorothea von Reuss, sister of his friend Henry.” They were married on September 7, 1722. A year prior to that he had sought to marry a cousin but on learning that Henry was in love with her, Zinzendorf not only backed out but wrote a cantata to celebrate their wedding.

In Countess Erdmuth Dorothea, he found a mate whose home was even more devoted to Pietism than his own. “Romantic love had but a minor place in the courtship,” notes Weinlick. The count had his sights set on serving Christ and his wife would assist him in that. Their marriage “set a pattern for the kind of marriage soon to become common in the Renewed Moravian Church.” Wed at the von Reuss estate at Ebersdorf, they remained there a few weeks, then moved into a four-room apartment in Dresden and in the summer of 1723 occupied their new manor house at Berthelsdorf.

As Zinzendorf devoted himself to matters of state in Dresden, Lady Gersdorf was pleased that he seemed to have given up notions of entering the ministry. But all the while the vision that filled his mind was to form a Christian community at Berthelsdorf, modeled after the Countess’ home in Ebersdorf. This vision was not long in finding fulfillment with the arrival of a lone Moravian at his door in Dresden.

The man identified himself as Christian David. He had heard that Zinzendorf might allow oppressed Moravians refuge on his land. Large-hearted Zinzendorf agreed to the request but was not even at Berthelsdorf when the first group of ten Moravians arrived in December 1722. Johann Georg Heitz, the manager of the estate, greeted the immigrants and showed them a plot of ground a short distance from the manor house at the foot of the hill Hutberg. Quoting Psalm 84:3, “Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, … ” Christian David felled the first tree.

Informing Zinzendorf by letter, Heitz said he had chosen a name for the settlement. It was to be “Herrnhut”—meaning “under the Lord’s watch” or “on the watch for the Lord.” Not until Christmastime did Zinzendorf pay any attention to the six adults and four children who had come to live on his land. Passing the new dwelling in his carriage, he and the countess stopped at the Moravian house and prayed with these with whom he sensed at once a spiritual kinship.

Seventeen months later, in May 1724, Zinzendorf was at the Hutberg settlement for a special occasion. His vision of a community taking shape, he and a small party of trusted friends had come to lay the cornerstone for the first large building which would house an academy similar to the one at Halle, a print shop and an apothecary. With him was his close associate from schooldays at Halle, Frederick von Watteville.

Coincidentally five young men from Zauchtenthal in Moravia, three whose names were David Nitschmann, arrived that day. They had left everything behind them and, stealing across the border under cover of night, were on their way to a Moravian city in Poland when Christian David persuaded them to visit Hermhut. These men of the “hidden seed” of the ancient Unitas Fratrum were so moved by the prayers of Zinzendorf and von Watteville that they decided that their search for a refuge had ended. They stayed, and Herrnhut was well on its way.

By May 1725, ninety Moravians had settled at Herrnhut. “Ten times Christian David journeyed back home to lead groups of settlers to the new town,” says Allen W. Schattschneider in Through Five Hundred Years. “The three houses really grew into a small city. Many of the new arrivals had thrilling tales to tell of the ways in which sympathetic Catholic friends had helped them escape. The father of one of the five young men had been thrown into prison in the tower of a castle. One night he saw the rope hanging in front of his window and with its help he slid to the ground and started for Herrnhut …”

At the same time, due to the spirited preaching of Pastor Rothe of the Berthelsdorf parish church, Lutheran Pietists also became a part of Hermhut. Former Catholics, Separatists, Reformed and Anabaptists moved to the new community. An excellent linen weaver from a neighboring village built his home near Hernhut, contributing a valuable industry to the settlement. Similarly, Leonard and Martin Dober, Swabian potters, brought their trade with them to Herrnhut. By late 1726 the population had swelled to 300. But trouble was brewing.

The Moravians differed with the Lutherans over the liturgy in Sunday worship. With so mixed a group, there were other serious squabbles, not to mention economic pressures and language difficulties. Then a heretical teacher was allowed residence in the community, a man “angry at the Lutherans because they had expelled him.” This man “took a great dislike for Zinzendorf and marched around the little town telling everybody that the count was none other than the ‘beast’ mentioned in the book of Revelation.” He caused an enormous upheaval before suffering a mental breakdown.

Determined that the little community would not destroy itself, in 1727 Zinzendorf moved his family into the academy building—by then an orphanage—and in the manner of a pastor began going from house to house, counseling with each family from the Scriptures. In time a spirit of cooperation and love began to show itself. When in May he reluctantly took the step of laying down a set of manorial rules for life at Herrnhut, the people wholeheartedly entered into the “Brotherly Agreement” with him and the Lord.

Several things happened next. The community elected twelve elders and appointed night watchmen (who announced the hours with a hymn!), watchers for the sick, and almoners to supervise distribution of goods to the poor. “Bands” were organized, little groups of folk who had “special spiritual affinity” to one another.

In July Zinzendorf journeyed to Zittau and while browsing in a library discovered a copy of the constitution of the ancient Unitas Fratrum with a preface written in 1660 by Bishop Comenius. He then understood that the Moravian Brethren was a “fully established church antedating Lutheranism itself.” Amazed at the similarities between the constitution and the newly-adopted “Brotherly Agreement,” he copied portions of it into German and shared them with the people on his return to Herrnhut. That summer the people had become a prayerful, united community and on Wednesday, August 13, at a communion service in the Berthelsdorf church, such a powerful manifestation of the Spirit came upon the people that Zinzendorf afterward referred to that day as the “Pentecost” of the Renewed Moravian Church (see “Baptized into One Spirit”).

Laying a Groundwork for Missions

Zinzendorf had no idea that in five years, on another August day, he and the Herrnhut community would send out the first two missionaries of the new era. Individual missionaries had gone to their posts, representing a society or in connection with colonial interests; Catholic orders had sent missionaries for centuries. But not until the Moravians did a church as a whole, laymen and clergy, consider the missionary task the duty of the whole church.

Guided by an unseen hand, Zinzendorf went to work to resolve differences which still threatened Herrnhut. It was decided that the Berthelsdorf church would continue as a Lutheran parish, but Herrnhut would be a Unity of the Brethren congregation—they would later become known as the Moravian Church. During 1727–29 the count tirelessly and with wisdom negotiated the necessary legal papers to assure the continuation of the ancient church on Saxon soil. To offset criticism mounting against him for going beyond the acceptable norm of creating Pietistic cells within established churches, he wrote letters and traveled to the centers of influence in Saxony to explain his actions.

At the same time, Pietism’s genius for creating small groups within the established churches was systematized at Herrnhut. To strengthen the spiritual life of the people, “choirs” were formed—first among the single brethren, then the single sisters, married couples and the widowed. These lay men and women traveled to other parts of Saxony and beyond, encouraging cells of believers in personal Bible study and pious living. “Out of this grew a network of societies within the churches to which eventually the term ‘Diaspora’ was applied,” says Weinlick. Herrnhuters roved to and fro on the continent, to Moravia, the Baltic States, Holland, Denmark and even to Britain.

Weinlick adds that “personal contacts were followed up with a vigorous program of correspondence … the Herrnhut diary of February 1728 reveals that there were at times a hundred or more letters on hand.” Contents of these were shared in monthly Prayer Days or in daily congregational meetings. Through the visits, future leaders of the Brethren were drawn to Herrnhut, such as the brilliant, warmhearted instructor at Jena, August Gottlieb Spangenberg. He would go on to become one of the church’s foremost bishops and Zinzendorf’s successor—except that no man could fill the count’s shoes entirely.

From this ministry to the Diaspora, it was but one step to another kind of itinerary—going as gospel preachers to the forgotten peoples. Three factors, at least, made the missionary action of Herrnut almost inevitable:

• The settlement had a contagious brand of Christianity.

• Its leader “was a count with entry to the ruling circles of many lands and whose restless nature moved him to make use of this advantage,” says Weinlick.

• Further, “the Moravian exiles were uprooted pilgrims who took readily to a vocation of itinerant evangelism.”

The First Missionaries

By 1731 the count was rarely involved with affairs of state, but one such event figured decisively in the sending of missionaries. That year he received an invitation to the coronation of Christian VI in Copenhagen and not being inclined to accept, he submitted the matter to the congregation, and to the lot. When prevailing opinion indicated “go,” he consented with a strong premonition that something special lay in store.

In Copenhagen he took part in the expected round of social events and even was accorded the medal of the Order of the Danebrog for distinguished service; but that “something special” came when he met a black man. Anthony Ulrich had been brought to Europe from St. Thomas and since arriving had found Christ as his Savior. With Zinzendorf and David Nitschmann he passionately pled for someone to go to the Danish West Indies with the gospel, to share with the black slaves—among whom were his sister and brother—the glad news of salvation. It was not that the church did not already exist there; it did, but only for the benefit of the whites.

For some time a number of the single brethren at Herrnhut had been led in the study of writing, medicine, geography and theology by Zinzendorf against the day when they might go to other lands. Now Zinzendorf hurried back to Herrnhut to report what Anthony had said.

Two of the young men definitely impressed by Zinzendorf’s words were Leonard Dober and Tobias Leupold. After a sleepless night, Dober arose the next morning and opened his 1731 Daily Text, seeking to know if his strong thoughts about going to the West Indies were of God. His eyes fell at random on the words: “It is not a vain thing for you; because it is your life; and through this thing ye shall prolong your days” (Deut. 32:47). Much encouraged, he shared his sense of a call with Leupold at their regular time of prayer that evening and found that Leupold likewise had felt called to St. Thomas. Then, as they resumed to the village with the other single brethren, and passed Zinzendorf’s house, they heard him tell a guest: “Sir, among these young men there are missionaries to St. Thomas, Greenland, Lapland and other countries.” Their joy unbounded, they composed a letter to Zinzendorf that night, volunteering to go.

Without indentifying who had written the letter, the count shared its contents with the congregation the following day. When Anthony arrived at Herrnhut and repeated his plea, the congregation was moved by his challenge. But Zinzendorf knew better than to act too quickly. For a year he allowed Dober and his friend to wait while all of them weighed the issue in prayer and much discussion. No clear cut unanimity within the community was found and it was decided to submit the matter to the drawing of lots.

In August 1732, a drawing of the lot indicated that Leupold was to wait. But for Dober, it said: “Let the lad go.” The 25-year-old “lad” was to be sent and David Nitschmann, the carpenter, agreed to go with him. They immediately made plans to sail from Copenhagen.

“There were not two men in the world more fitted for their task,” says the Historian Hutton. “Each had a clear conception of the Gospel; each possessed the gift of ready speech; and each knew exactly what Gospel to preach.” At an unforgettable service on August 18, the Herrnhut congregation said farewell to the two brethren. A hundred hymns were sung, so intense was the feeling.

The birthday of Moravian Missions now arrived. At three o’clock in the morning (Thursday August 21) the two men stood waiting in front of Zinzendorf’s house. The Count had spent some hours that night in prayer and conversation with Dober. His carriage was waiting at the door; the grey of morning glimmered; and silence lay upon Herrnhut. The Count took the reins and drove them as far as Bautzen. They alighted outside the sleeping town, knelt down on the quiet roadside and joined the Count in prayer. The Count laid his hands on Dober’s head and blessed him. His last instructions were of a general nature. ‘Do all in the spirit of Jesus Christ,’ he said. He gave them a ducat apiece. The two heralds rose from their knees, bade the Count good-bye, and stepped out for Copenhagen. (Hutton)

The Golden Decade

In Copenhagen, Dober and Nitschmann had to battle with all those who knew why their enterprise was doomed to fail, and when on October 8 they finally did board a Dutch ship, they had it to do all over again with the crew (see “Missionaries Against Terrible Odds”).

On Sunday, December 13, 1732, after almost ten weeks at sea, the ship sailed into the harbor of St. Thomas. According to their plan, Nitschmann was only to remain long enough to help Dober find lodging—or to build a cabin if need be—and begin missionary work among the slaves. So, in April 1733 Nitschmann said goodbye to Dober. The dedicated potter would labor alone for 15 months; once he almost starved to death and at another time a fever rendered him helplessly dependent on others. But he persisted in talking with the slaves one by one and led a few to confess faith in Christ. One of these, Carmel Oly, returned to Herrnhut with him the following year as one of the “first fruits” of the gospel.

In July 1734 reinforcements arrived in the form of 17 volunteers. Among them was Leupold. But they had been seven months at sea, were dissipated and demoralized. Their first service on the neighboring St. Croix, where they were to work, was a funeral to bury one of their own. In three months nine had died. Eleven more missionaries arrived in May 1735 but “the Great Dying” continued; 22 of the first 29 died, forcing a temporary retreat from St. Croix.

Yet the tide of missionaries continued to go out from Herrnhut. In 1733, three brethren went to Greenland. In 1734, Moravians went to Lapland and Georgia; 1735—Surinam; 1736—Africa’s Guinea Coast; 1737—South Africa; 1738—to Amsterdam’s Jewish quarter; 1739—Algeria; 1740—North American Indians; Ceylon, Romania and Constantinople. The golden decade of 1732–42 stands unparalleled in Christian history in so far as missionary expansion is concerned. More than 70 Moravian missionaries, from a community of not more than 600 inhabitants, had answered the call by 1742.

‘A Formidable Caravan’

The brighter the missionary fires burned at Herrnhut the hotter things became for Zinzendorf. His opponents sought to undermine him and his ministry. In 1736 he was banished from Saxony. From there he took the family and certain key individuals with him west to Wetteravia, in the vicinity of Frankfurt, and found residence in a rundown castle, the Ronneburg. During the next decade a new settlement, Herrnhaag, would thrive nearby, surpassing Herrnhut in size. But at the Ronneburg the countess found the going rough at first. Zinzendorf was away on one of his perpetual journeys when their three-year-old son, Christian Ludwig, took ill. There being no medical help available, he died. When another child fell ill, Countess Dorothea left the Ronneburg temporarily. She bore the count 12 children, only four of whom reached maturity.

Out of necessity while in exile Zinzendorf created a traveling “executive committee” which became known as the Pilgrim Congregation. It served to direct the foreign mission work of the church as well as the ministry to the Diaspora societies. The Pilgrim Congregation observed the regimen of Herrnhut in prayers and discipline, but was mobile; “the years of exile found the group in Wetteravia, England, Holland, Berlin and Switzerland.”

The Pilgrim Congregation’s reason for going to Berlin was that in 1737 the count was there ordained a bishop of the Moravian Church by one of the two surviving bishops, Daniel Ernest Jablonsky. The count had sought the opinions of leading clerics of his day, including Archbishop Potter of the Church of England, and being encouraged, he asked the aged court preacher in Berlin to render the service. It was an action that demonstrated Zinzendorf’s ongoing commitment to the survival of the Moravian Church. He had been ordained a Lutheran minister three years earlier.

In 1738 the count made a pastoral visit to the St. Thomas mission field, arriving in time to free Moravian missionaries from prison. An official of another church had accused these Moravians of not having valid ordination. In December 1741 Zinzendorf and the Pilgrim Congregation began a 14-week stay in North America. Giving Bethlehem (Pa.) its name, he made the settlement there his base from which he went out on extended trips among the Indians to open the way for missionary work. Also he poured great energy into attempts to unite Protestant bodies in America, arguing that in the New World there was no history—hence no need—of denominations. But his ecumenical task failed and he returned to England in 1743.

Though the edict banishing him from Saxony was withdrawn in 1747, Zinzendorf continued to spend more time in Herrnhaag and in England than at Herrnhut. From Herrnhaag in that year alone 200 brethren and sisters went out to posts of duty as missionaries, as immigrants to the New World or as workers among the Diaspora. From 1749 to 1755 the spiritual climate in London was especially friendly to the growth of Moravian influence and Zinzendorf made that his headquarters. But in 1755 their 24-year-old son Christian Renatus died in London. Countess Dorothea was on her way there when news reached her of his death. She continued on to London to view his gravesite in the God’s Acre there, but she never fully recovered her zest for life after this loss. The following year she died at Herrnhut.

Virtually every biographer of Zinzendorf has remarked upon the remorse and guilt which overtook the count after his wife’s death. For two decades he had allowed the head of the single sisters, Anna Nitschmann, to “usurp” the countess’s place at his side while he gave less and less attention to Erdmuth Dorothea. A year after the countess’s death, the peasant Anna became the wife of Zinzendorf. They were married three years and died within two weeks of each other in 1760.

On the day he took Anna as his bride, Zinzendorf renounced his position in the empire as the head of his noble house, abdicating in favor of his nephew, Ludwig, being “less inclined than ever for worldly honors.”

The year 1760 marked 28 years in Moravian missions; no fewer than 226 missionaries had been sent out in these years. As the great visionary, the tireless pilgrim, Zinzendorf, lived out his last days at Herrnhut. Weak and nearing death on May 8, 1760, he said to Bishop David Nitschmann at his bedside:

Did you suppose in the beginning that the Savior would do as much as we now really see, in the various Moravian settlements, amongst the children of God of other denominations and amongst the heathen? I only entreated of him a few of the firstfruits of the latter, but there are now thousands of them. Nitschmann, what a formidable caravan from our church already stands around the Lamb!

The following day Count Zinzendorf breathed his last and joined the caravan of those adoring the Lamb upon his throne.

Karl Barth called him “perhaps the only genuine Christocentric of the modem age.” Feuerbach said he was “Luther come back to life.” The scholarly George Forell tagged him “the noble Jesus freak.” Church historian Timothy Weber lists him as one of “the spiritual superstars of the 1700’s … who shaped the course of Christianity.” We would identify him simply as the rich young ruler who met Jesus—and said a wholehearted YES.

Copyright © 1982 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine. Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

History

The Moravians: Christian History Timeline

History does not record for certain who took the message of the crucified and risen Savior to that region north of the Danube. But it does say that in 836 the brothers, Cyril and Methodius of Constantinople and the Eastern Christian tradition went to Moravia as missionaries. The Latin church had preceded them there, but these industrious Greeks did something that the Latin missionaries had not done. Cyril invented an alphabet for the Moravian language and he and Methodius began translating the Bible for the people.

And they preached in the native tongue. “Their work sowed the seeds of that deep love for the truth, that passionate insistence upon having the Word in one’s tongue and that willingness to suffer and die for the faith which found expression, a few centuries later, among the followers of Master John Hus” (from Through Five Hundred Years, “A Popular History of the Moravian Church,” by Allen W. Schattschneider).

1400 John Wycliffe’s revolutionary writings spread

1415 John Hus burned at the stake

1441 Slave trade with Africa begins

1453 Gutenberg first prints Bible

1457 Unitas Fratrum (Moravian Church) organized

(1483–1546) Martin Luther

1492 Columbus sails to New World

1498 Savonarola martyred

1500 First Protestant Hymnal

(1564–1616) Shakespeare

1579–1593 Kralice Bible translated by Bohemian Brethren

1611 King James Bible

1620 Plymouth Colony

1621 ‘Day of Blood’

1618-1642 Thirty Years War in Germany

John Hus (1369–1415)“Hus did not live to see the Protestant Church or any of its branches started, but he sowed the seed. His followers discovered that the Catholic Church would not change or reform so they felt they had only one choice: to make a new beginning,” notes Edwin A. Sawyer. Ordained a Roman Catholic Driest in 1400. John Hus became the preacher in Prague’s Bethlehem Chapel at the time the writings of the English reformer John Wycliffe were widely circulating throughout Bohemia. In Hus they found their champion. His call for “ethical transformation of clergy and church life” as well as a “genuine feeling of Bohemian nationalism” brought on a direct confrontation with his archbishop and ultimately, the pope. At Constance a church council condemned him as a heretic and burned him at the stake on July 6, 1415 A fierce persecution of “Hussites” followed, forcing some Hussites to retreat to the region of Kunwald in the Barony of Lititz. There in 1457 they organized a church along New Testament lines under elders. This was the start of the Unitas Fratrum, the Unity of the Brethren, later to be known as the Moravian Church.

Gregory The Patriarch (ca. 1420–1473) Gregory was a nephew of Archbishop Rokycana of the Utraquist Church in Prague. This branch of Catholicism was so named because communion was received in both kinds (sub utraque species). Preaching in Prague, Rokycana influenced Gregory to follow the zeal of the early Hussites, giving him the writings of a radical Bohemian reformer, Peter of Chelcice. After visiting Peter, Gregory and a small group of likeminded people settled in Kunwald. Enemies of these “Brethren” (they began calling themselves Jednota Bratrska or a Unity of Brethren) led a persecution, snatching Gregory when he was on a visit to Prague. Gregory and several Hussites were tortured on the rack; Gregory alone refused to recant. Passing out from the torture of the rack, he dreamed he saw Jesus standing by a flowering tree along with three men. Learning that his nephew was captured, Rokycana had Gregory freed. Returning to Kunwald, Gregory told the Brethren of his dream, interpreting it to mean that Christ would form them into a church. A reformed Catholic priest, Michael, was named bishop in 1467 and tradition says he was consecrated by Waldensian bishops. When the church selected three elders, Gregory recognized their facesthey were the same persons he saw in his dream!

Luke of Prague (1460–1528) and John Augusta (1500–1572)By Luther’s time the Unitas Fratrum already claimed more than 400 congregations and 150–200,000 members hardly a small, struggling church! Luke and John were key figures in this growing church The former, a graduate of the University of Prague, left the Utraquist Church to become a member of the Brethren at age 40 and was later consecrated a bishop. At his inspiration the church produced an early Protestant hymnal in 1501, containing 89 hymns. His catechism, Questions to the Children,first available in Bohemian and later in German, “was found in every Brother’s home.” JOHN AUGUSTA followed Luke as bishop from 1532-1572. Once again when the Brethren suffered inhuman persecution, God gave the church in John a man of “boundless energy and great gifts for leadership.” A brilliant preacher, he held the respect of both Luther and Calvin. John drew up the Brethren’s Confession of Faith and sought to unite all Protestant bodies in Bohemia, but king Ferdinand thwarted that hope, throwing John in prison where he languished 14 years.

Bishop John Comenius (1592–1672) in the snows of the Giant Mountains on Bohemia’s northern border and prayed God to preserve a “hidden seed” of the Unitas Fratrum in Bohemia. Seven years earlier, on the “Day of Blood,” 15 of the Brethren and other Czech patriots were beheaded. In the days that followed clergy were imprisoned, “church members were sent to the mines or dungeons, churches were closed, schools destroyed, Bibles and hymnbooks, catechisms and histories burned” notes James Hastings. More than 36,000 families of the Brethren fled Bohemia and among them was Comenius, a graduate of Heidelberg and a headmaster. In 1632 in Lissa, Poland he was named their bishop. Comenius established a reputation on the continent as an educational innovator, and many of his educational theories are still considered valid. He was the first to introduce pictures into schoolbooks. Tradition says that newly-founded Harvard College offered him its presidency, but his care for the ancient church was his primary concern.. Fierce opposition in Poland forced him to flee to Holland. Fearing that his church would die, he raised thousands of dollars, mostly from Christians in England, to print Bohemian and Polish bibles and in a will bequeathed “our dear Mother, the Church of the Brethren” to the Church of England’s care. His son-in-law, Peter Jablonsky, succeeded him as bishop and thus kept the flickering hopes of the Brethren alive.

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History

My Zeal Has Not Cooled…

In preparation for his examination by the faculty of Tubingen on being ordained a Lutheran minister, Count Zinzendorf made the following statement, “one of the finest confessions of his career,” says his biographer Weinlick.

I was but ten years old when I began to direct my companions to Jesus, as their Redeemer. My deficiency in knowledge was compensated by sincerity. Now I am thirty-four; and though I have made various experiences; yet in the main my mind has undergone no change. My zeal has not cooled. I reserve to myself liberty of conscience; it agrees with my internal call to the ministry. Yet, I am not a free thinker. I love and honor the (established) church, and shall frequently seek her counsels. I will continue as heretofore, to win souls for my precious Savior, to gather His sheep, bid guests, and hire servants for Him. More especially I shall continue, if the Lord please, to devote myself to the service of that congregation whose servant I became in 1727. Agreeably to her orders, under her protection, enjoying her care, and influenced by her spirit, I shall go to distant nations, who are ignorant of Jesus and of redemption in His blood. I shall endeavor to imitate the labors of my brethren, who have the honor of being the first messengers to the heathen. I will prove all things by the only criterion of evangelical doctrine, the Holy Scriptures. Among the brethren at Herrnhut and elsewhere I shall endeavor to maintain their ancient church discipline. The love of Christ shall constrain me, and His cross refresh me. I will cheerfully be subject to the higher powers, and a sincere friend to my enemies … I am poor and needy, yet the Lord thinketh upon me. He shall deliver the poor and needy.

On the following day December 19, 1734, he was recognized as a minister of the Lutheran Church.

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History

Zinzendorf and the Moravians: A Gallery of Leading Figures

In this series

Christian David

(1690–1751) Historians credit this “humble journeyman carpenter” with being one of the two individuals most responsible for Herrnhut. Born December 31, 1690 in Senftleben, Moravia, he early showed religious inclinations. But his Catholic upbringing failed to satisfy. Two influences profoundly prepared him for conversion at age 27—the Christian carpenter who taught him his trade and the German Bible he obtained at age 20. After years of seeking, he found Christ while ill in Görlitz, Saxony, near the Moravian border, as a Lutheran pastor nursed him to health. That year, 1717, David married and also embarked on soul-winning trips into Moravia. There he discovered Brethren who longed for the rebirth of their ancient church, holding tenaciously to a prophetic word spoken by an ancestor that their persecuted church would yet live. With David’s meeting Count Zinzendorf in 1722, this hope sprang to reality. He led the first Moravian refugees across the border to Herrnhut and actually started that settlement by felling the first tree. Zinzendorf was to call him “the Moravian Moses” for ten times he crossed the border and led Brethren to freedom. Though he sometimes exercised poor judgment and wavered in his faith under the sway of forceful false teaching, he always returned to his devotion to Christ. In 1733 he led a party of three Brethren in the difficult mission to help a Danish missionary among the Eskimos of Greenland.

Countess Zinzendorf

(1700–1756) In the young countess of the house of Henry X von Reuss, Zinzendorf found a companion characterized by “simplicity and warm sympathy … quick insight and excellent judgment … ” Erdmuth Dorothea was raised in a deeply pietistic home of the nobility. On September 7, 1722 she became Zinzendorf’s wife, entering upon “a life of self denial … to assist (Zinzendorf) in gaining souls for Christ …” She proved more capable than her husband in practical matters and he showed wisdom in turning over to her the management of his finances and in 1732, legal title to all his properties. This proved a blessing four years later when the count was banished from Saxony. Herrnhut was able to continue in the control of the Moravians. Erdmuth Dorothea “outwardly at least seemed as willing to relegate her family to second place as (did) the count,” notes John Weinlick in Count Zinzendorf. One of their 12 children, Marie Agnes, was born but days after the count departed on a “witness trip.” The countess herself traveled much on the continent and in England, encouraging the Diaspora societies. While she was on such a ministry tour to Livonia and St. Petersburg in 1742–43 two of their children died at Herrnhaag. She never fully recovered from the loss of her 24-year-old son Christian Renatus in 1751. “Her ceaseless toil and constant anxiety in behalf of the church had taken their toll,” notes Hutton. She died at Herrnhut in 1756. At her burial she was lamented by the people of Herrnhut as “our praise worthy sister and most beloved Mama.”

August Gottlieb Spangenberg

(1703–1792) Benjamin Franklin called him “my very much respected friend, Bishop Spangenberg.” This great-hearted man was attracted to the Brethren by visits of the count and other Herrnhuters while he served as an instructor at the university at Jena. Having earned the degree, Master of Arts, in 1733 he threw in his lot with the Moravians. Zinzendorf sought Spangenberg’s tutoring when he was preparing for his own Lutheran ordination. If the count was the visionary of the Moravian movement, Spangenberg was his interpreter and administrator. He early negotiated a grant from the King of England for the Moravian settlement in Georgia when it looked like the Brethren might have to leave Herrnhut. In 1735 he led a group of nine Moravians to Georgia and remained to engage in evangelistic work in Pennsylvania. One of those with whom he earnestly pled concerning salvation was John Wesley. In the early 1740’s Spangenberg led the development of Moravian societies of the “Diaspora” in England and after being consecrated a bishop in 1744 he assumed responsibility for ministries in North America. “He combined unusual adminstrative gifts with sound views in theology and the zeal of a pioneer missionary,” says Hamilton. “Brother Joseph” as he was affectionately called because he protected the Brethren in a strange land, surveyed and settled the community of Wachovia in North Carolina. At the death of the count he was summoned to Europe where his executive abilities proved crucially important in shaping the over-extended Moravian enterprise for the future. This saint died at age 88, leaving among his writings the first systematic discussion of Moravian theology, children’s books and a biography of Zinzendorf.

Anna Nitschmann

(1715–1760) “When she spoke or prayed or sang, all hearts stood open to her.” So it was said of Anna, a Moravian peasant who was elected by lot as “chief eldress” of Herrnhut before her fifteenth birthday. Anna was ten when her father, mother and brother Melchior (later martyred) fled Moravia for Herrnhut. A rebellious child, she was converted during the unusual spiritual awakening at the settlement in the summer of 1727. The historian Hamilton notes that Anna, who supported herself in the early years by spinning wool, served as “chief eldress of the Unity (the entire church), which post she filled with zeal and devotion until her death—though she laid her office down temporarily when she left for America in 1740.” As a key member of the “Pilgrim congregation” in America she was instrumental in establishing Christian work among German settlers. She became the count’s second wife in 1757, a year following Countess Erdmuth Dorothea’s death, and died three years later at Herrnhut only thirteen days after Zinzendorf. Her deeply spiritual walk with Christ is revealed in the words of one hymn she wrote: “Jesus, Thou fain wouldst have us be/ In all things more conformed to Thee; ‘We’re filled with conscious shame,/ And thank Thee for Thy care and love;’ Thy patience, which we richly prove,/ Our heartfelt gratitude cloth claim.”

David Zeisberger

(1721–1808) Few Moravian missionaries suffered more in their labors for Christ than did this native Zauchtenthal. For 62 years he devoted himself to the native Americans, sharing in all of the uncertainties that beset their fragile existence during the time of territorial expansion and the Revolutionary War. Zeisberger’s parents fled persecution in Moravia and found refuge at Herrnhut when he was five. Nine years later they left him behind in Herrnhut to complete his schooling while they went to England and from there sailed to Georgia in the Moravian band led by David Nitschmann. In 1738, 17-year-old David joined his parents and almost immediately became assistant to Peter Boehler. He was among the pioneers who built Bethlehem settlement and, at age 24, went to the Iroquois village of Shekomeko on the New York-Connecticut border to assist Frederick Post; this set the course for his life. In 1750 he joined Bishop Spangenberg in a dangerous incursion north to Onandaga to secure permission from the Iroquois for mission work and then, following a quick trip to Herrnhut to be appointed “perpetual missionary to the Indians” by Zinzendorf, he began a four-year residence in Onandaga. The Indians adopted him as a member of their nation and many of them in turn were adopted into the family of God through his witness. For the next 50 years he was “in journeyings oft,” ever bearing fruit. In 1781, the year he was married, of the 400 Delawares among whom he labored, 315 were counted as Christians. The “apostle to the Indians,” Zeisberger produced a veritable library of linguistic and Scripture reference volumes for Indian languages.

Leonard Dober

(1706–1766) This master potter of Swabian extraction joined the Herrnhut community with his brother Martin to “introduce artistic pottery ware as a profitable product” there. But when Count Zinzendorf returned from Copenhagen with the report of black slaves in the West Indies without any opportunity to learn of Christ, Dober felt called to go. “I could not get free of it,” he said. “I vowed to myself that if one other brother would go with me, I would become a slave …” He and David Nitschmann did go, although they did not have to become slaves to witness of Christ to the blacks. From December 1732 to August 1734 he engaged in personal evangelism among the slaves and when he was called to return to Herrnhut to become chief elder, he took with him a young believer, Carmel Oly, a “first fruit” of Moravian labors. Dober possessed keen spiritual sensitivity. As the Brethren expanded overseas, he no longer felt capable of being the chief elder. His resignation, at first a problem, opened the way for the Brethren in 1741 to recognize Jesus Christ as the only Chief Elder Dober. Went on to become a bishop of the church and for a time he and his wife worked in the Jewish quarter of Amsterdam as evangelists.

David Nitschmann

(1696–1772) After traversing the Atlantic in the same vessel which bore John and Charles Wesley to Georgia in the spring of 1736, Bishop David Nitschmann set apart Anthony Seifferth as pastor of the Moravian congregation in Savannah. Nitschmann himself had only the year before been consecrated the first bishop of the renewed Moravian Church with special jurisdiction for “Foreign Parts.” This carpenter-become-pastor is perhaps best known in missionary annals as one of the first two Moravian missionaries who went to St. Thomas in the Danish West Indies in 1732. This reliable man of superb spiritual gifts and sound judgment was an intimate of the count. An entry in Zinzendorf’s diary of 1729 reads: “D. Nitschmann and Christian David were at my table. We took stock of ourselves and told each other what yet remained to mar the image of Christ. I let them tell me first what I lacked and then I told them what they lacked.”

Frederick Martin

(1704–1750) succeeded Dober in 1736 and gave Moravian work in the islands “a lasting and sound basis,” says historian Hutton, establishing the ministry on St. Thomas, St. Croix and St. John. One secret of the success of this native of Upper Silesia was the personal interview. In his spare time he went from town to town and attempted to make the personal acquaintance of every black on St. Thomas. Moved by his interest in them, the slaves attended services in the church built on plantation property he had purchased with Moravian funds. In his first year, 700 blacks are reported to have converted to faith in Christ. But when Martin began baptizing them, the local Dutch pastor accused him of not being properly ordained. A trial ensued. Because Martin and his coworkers Matthias Freundlich and his wife would not take an oath, they were fined. Unwilling to pay the fine, they were imprisoned. They remained there three months until Count Zinzendorf arrived. Not knowing of the preceding events, he had them immediately set free. The opposition could not defeat Martin, no matter what they tried. In the castle jail, he preached nightly through the bars to a gathered crowd while his black assistant Mingo preached in the church. Martin died in 1750 in St. Croix. By 1760 the Moravian church in the West Indies reported 1,600 baptized believers and 3,600 souls under the care of the mission.

Peter Boehler

(1712–1775) The scholarly Peter Boehler organized Moravian work in England and profoundly influenced both John and Charles Wesley. Born to a Lutheran innkeeper in Frankfurt-on-Main in 1712, he studied law at Jena where “hundreds of students lived dissolute lives and scoffed at religion.” Through the influence of young Pietists and visits by Zinzendorf to the campus, he decided to take up the study of theology. He earned the Master of Arts degree, distinguishing himself in German, French, Latin and English, learning as well Greek, Hebrew and Arabic. On December 14, 1737 he was ordained a minister among the Brethren and left immediately for England to prepare to lead missionaries to Georgia. Between February and May 1738 he was in constant communion with the Wesleys, his words and full assurance affecting them both. John Wesley, “clearly convinced of (his) unbelief,” asked Boehler whether he ought to quit preaching until he had faith. Boehler’s reply was: “by no means … preach faith till you have it; and then, because you have it, you will preach faith.” Boehler’s future did not lie in the colonies, though his impact on the young Moravian David Zeisberger, “apostle to the Indians,” was a marked one. From 1746–52 he labored in England; one historian records that “with his arrival in London the Moravian Church began definitely to influence the ecclesiastical life of Britain.” He lived to see an early rift between Methodists and Moravians healed before he died of a stroke in London.

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History

Zinzendorf’s Chronology

In this series

May 26, 1700 born in Dresden to Count George Ludwig and Baroness Charlotte.

1703–1710 reared at Gross-Hennersdorf estate of grandmother, Baroness Von Gersdorf.

1710 enrolled at Halle in the Paedagogium of Pietist August Francke.

1715 pledged his life’s devotion to Christ and originated “The Order of the Grain of Mustard Seed.”

August 25, 1716 arrived at Wittenberg to begin university studies.

1719–1720 “grand tour” of Germany, Holland, France, Switzerland. In a Dusseldorf museum he made a vow to Christ.

October 1721 began service as lawyer in the court of Elector August the Strong

April 1722 purchased the Berthelsdorf estate from grandmother.

September 7, 1722 wed Countess Erdmuth Dorothea von Reuss at Ebersdorf

August 7, 1724 first child, Christian Ernest, born, but lived only three months. Of their twelve children, three survived their parents.

May 1727 signing of “Brotherly Agreement” at Herrnhut.

August 13, 1727 “birthday” of Renewed Moravian Church at Herrnhut.

1731 in Copenhagen for King Christian Vl coronation met a converted slave Anthony Ulrich, from West Indies.

August 21, 1732 commenced Leonard Dober and David Nitschmann to God as first Moravian missionaries. On this date they departed Herrnhut.

December 19, 1734 formally ordained a Lutheran minister by Tubingen faculty.

1736 banished from Saxony; “Pilgrim Congregation” settled in Wetteravia.

May 20, 1737 ordained a bishop of the Moravian Church in Berlin.

1738 hosted John Wesley visiting Herrnhut; visited West Indies.

December 1741 with countess, daughter Benigna, Anna Nitschmann, began 14-month stay in America.

1747 decree of banishment lifted; temporarily visited Herrnhut.

1749–1755 made London focal point of worldwide Moravian activities.

June 19, 1756 Countess Zinzendorf died at Herrnhut. June 27, 1757 wedded Anna Nitschmann; abdicated his position in Empire in favor of his nephew.

May 9 1760 died at Herrnhut.

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History

The Moravian Mission Influence Spreads Throughout the World and to Other Denominations

Today—Membership in the Moravian mission Churches outnumber those at home 4 to 1!

The BAPTISTS* [* from R. A. Knox, Enthusiasm, A Chapter in the History of Religion, (p. 390).]

“For some years, William Carey, the leader of the famous Serampore Three, had … read the Moravian ‘Periodical Accounts.’ He referred expressly to their work in his pamphlet, Enquiry into the obligations of Christians to use Means for the conversion of the Heathen … and (at Kettering) appealed to their example—See what these Moravians have done. Can we not follow their example, and in obedience to our Heavenly Master, go out into the world and preach the Gospel to the heathen?

“His word meant more than most readers generally suppose. He was referring when he said Moravians, not only to Germans, but to Englishmen. According to one modern writer of mission history, William Carey, the founder with other ministers of the Baptist Missionary Society, was the ’first Englishman who was a Foreign Missionary.’ The statement is incorrect. For several years before Carey was heard of, a large number of British Moravians had been toiling in the foreign field… In Antigua had worked Samuel Isles, Joseph Newby and Samuel Watson; in Jamaica, George Caries, David Taylor, Samuel Church … in St. Kitts and St. Croix, James Birkby; in Barbados, Benjamin Brookshaw and John Fozzard; in Tobago …”

The METHODISTS* [* from R. A. Knox, Enthusiasm, A Chapter in the History of Religion, (p. 390).]

“The first Protestants influenced by the Herrnhut Brethren were the Methodists. In their case, however, the influence, as far as foreign missions were concerned, was only indirect. As John Wesley met several Moravian missionaries—David Nitschmann on the Simmonds (sailing for Georgia), Spangenburg in Georgia and Boehler in England—he must have admired their zeal for the conversion of the heathen … In his famous ‘The world is my parish,’ he echoed Zinzendorf’s words: ‘We must proclaim the Savior to the world.’ His gospel zeal led in time to foreign missions. Peter Boehler influenced Wesley, Wesley influenced Dr. Coke who preached in the West Indies; and before the close of the Century Wesleyan missionaries were preaching to the slaves at Kingston in Jamaica.”

The MORAVIAN INFLUENCE* [* from R. A. Knox, Enthusiasm, A Chapter in the History of Religion, (p. 390).]

“The Moravians had something to do with the foundation of the London Missionary Society. Among the founders of the society one of the most influential was Rowland Hill. He had read much about Moravian Missions, corresponded with Peter Braun of Antigua (a Moravian) and owed his zeal, very largely, to Braun’s example. The other founders also came under Moravian influence. They all dipped into the pages of ‘Periodical Accounts,’ they brought copies of that magazine to their meetings; and in their speeches, they enforced their arguments by referring to what the Moravians had done… the first apostles of the LMS went out with Moravian wisdom in their heads and Moravian instructions in their pockets.”

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History

Missionaries Against Terrible Odds

From a contemporary translation by Kate Hettasch of Geschichte der Mission der evangelicschen Bruder auf den Caraibischen Inseln, S. Thomas, S. Crocr, und S Jan, Barby, 1777 by Christian Georg Andreas Oldendorp.

These two brethren, Leonard Dober and David Nitschmann, started their journey, sure of their heavenly calling and determined to persevere for Christ’s sake in spite of all of the difficulties. Yes, with their lives they would venture all, having received the blessing of the congregation at the meeting in Herrnhut on the 25th of August 1732. Count Zinzendorf himself blessed Dober by laying his hand on this man who had felt called to go forth as a witness. “Let yourself always be led by the Spirit of Jesus Christ,” said the count.

On their joumey to Copenhagen they visited various God-fearing friends, many of whom advised them against going. Hearing of their calling and plans, these people tried hard to change the men’s minds. They sought to show them the impossibility of their ambition, and the disadvantages which lay in front of them and that at the end of their indescribable and untiring efforts there could only be certain death for them. Seeing how strongly they objected, the brethren did not try to contradict them, but remained true to him who had called them, assured that they could do nothing but follow their convinctions.

Only Countess von Stollberg at Wernigerode strengthened the brethren in what they planned to do and encouraged them to venture all for Christ’s sake. It was such an encouragement to hear the countess speak in that way for until then, only Count Zinzendorf had spoken encouragement.

In Copenhagen, where they arrived on the 15th of September, no one agreed with them or with their calling. The brethren were told that they would only have the greatest difficulties. The people there tried to convince them of their folly, first, by saying that no ship would take them and, second, that if they ever did arrive in St. Thomas, they could not survive there. Their hope of preaching the gospel to the slaves was considered impossible.

Dober answered that they themselves were willing to become slaves. He and Nitschmann thought that in that way they would be able to reach them in their pitiful condition and tell them the way of salvation.

But this was considered absurd and almost laughable by their friends for no one was ever allowed to become a slave. These people, knowing of the climate and the very hard life the slaves endured, were convinced that it would really not be worthwhile going. The brethren were held in the highest esteem, on the other hand, because they were willing to give up everything for the spreading of the gospel .

When questioned about their means of livelihood once they reached St. Thomas, Nitschmann answered that he would use his trade as a carpenter. He was sure that he could provide a living for both of them. They told this to men of the West Indies Company, friends of Count Zinzendorf who were in favor of spreading the gospel of God, and asked for their help, yet these men were decidedly against helping them accomplish their goal.

Some in Copenhagen suggested that Dober and Nitschmann even join the army as a means of income, but they emphatically refused. How could they reach their goal if they joined the army?

To all of these difficulties experienced by the two brethren was added one more disappointment, the great grief that the Negro Anton (Anthony Ulrich), who was the real reason why they were going to St. Thomas, had suddenly changed his mind. In Herrnhut he had expressed the deep desire of his sister and brother and others in St. Thomas—and himself—to hear the word of God. Now suddenly he denied he had ever pleaded for this! His good intentions had been smothered by the influence of the folk who were dead set against the missionaries. Anthony even tried to change the mind of these two brethren. But before they left he gave them a letter to his sister.

Had the intention of these two brethren been merely selfish—had their going been of their own will or desire—they would not have been able to withstand these bitter disappointments they went through. But they remained steadfast in what they were called to do. As all human help completely forsook them they clung more and more to their Lord and Master who, now and again, in special ways, upheld and comforted them.

Once, at a critical moment of seeing how their plans would proceed, they read in the Daily Text from Numbers 23:19—“Has he said, and will he not do it? Or has he spoken, and will he not fulfil it?” Reading these words encouraged them not to doubt, but to go on with their plans. God was at their side and would sustain and uphold them. For what God started, he would surely accomplish.

Their constant persistence finally impressed some friends in Copenhagen who decided to pay more attention to them and try to help them. Among these were the two court chaplains, the Reverend Reuss and the Reverend Blum who themselves came to the conviction that what these two brethren planned was in response to a direct call from God. Therefore they intended to support them fully. Other prominent friends came to the same conclusion.

The young men’s goal and desires even became known in the royal court of the queen who very graciously encouraged them. Princess Charlotte Amelia gave a certain great amount toward their expenses without its having been suggested to her in any way, and also sent a Dutch Bible to the brethren. And they received more unexpected blessings from several other friends. Some of the state leaders who saw the constant joy of these two brethren concerning their call changed their minds and finally gave them God’s blessing, sending them forth with these words:

So, go in the Name of the Lord, our Lord, who chose fishermen to preach his gospel and who himself was a carpenter, the son of a carpenter.

As none of the West Indies Company ships would take them, Mr. Conrad Friedrich Martine, an officer of the royal court, found a Dutch ship on which they would be able to work as carpenters on the voyage to St. Thomas. The captain of the Dutch vessel was very willing.

Officer Martine not only succeeded in gaining permission for the men to take along all their belongings, with no payment for livelihood; he even supplied these two men with the tools they so badly needed. Grateful that God had opened the door and with a constant desire to serve God to the end with all their hearts, they went on board the ship on Oct. 8, 1732, having said farewell to their many various high and low class friends in Copenhagen. The vessel sailed out of the harbor that very day.

On this trip they were the source of very much opposition, laughter and mocking, but also of compassion. Some treated them kindly and went out of their way to help them. The crew described to them the hardships of their sea trip saying, “You won’t be able to endure all this,” and, “You’re sure never to survive this trip; you will surely die, or if you arrive you will die of hunger in St. Thomas because the prices for any food are extremely sky high. Besides that, most of the Europeans become very ill and have to cope with bad diseases and usually die.”

Instead of replying to all these stories the two brethren gave thought to how they could find a soul for Christ aboard the ship. It looked at times as if they were succeeding in winning some pour soul for Christ, but this always ended in disappointment.

In spite of the many difficulties and dangers of the journey, such as being in great waters with uncharted rocks, storms, sailing for ten weeks, the two brethren turned always to their Lord and experienced his help and his presence.

When the sea was calm and the weather fair David Nitschmann used his time in carpenter work. He made a wardrobe for the captain’s clothes which so pleased the captain that later, arriving in St. Thomas, the captain told about David’s work.

On the 7th of December when they saw one of the first islands of the West Indies, the text for the day was so appropriate as on many other days. One of the verses was “There is no speech, nor are there words; where their voice is not heard” (Psalm 19:3). And the hymn verse was: “Amen, ours the joyful lays/and unto God the praise; Bring every tongue that’s spoken/into one belief. Amen.”

A special prayer request of Brother Dober was that the ship would sail into no other harbor but St. Thomas, for the captain had planned to run into St. Eustacius, which would have delayed their journey for some time. But opposite winds made this impossibe and they arrived in St. Thomas on Dec. 13th and went ashore. Brother Dober’s prayer had been answered.

The Two Brethren Begin Their Mission Work and What Follows

One would think that after God had led them so safely to the end of their journey that their hearts would have been overflowing with gladness. Yet the brethren’s diary brings rather the opposite impression. A spirit of depression settled upon them as they saw St. Thomas lying before them. The text for that day was Isaiah 13:4. Indeed they found themselves at the battlefield where their faith and their endurance would be tested. They would surely experience suffering in their intention through Jesus Christ to win souls of the blacks out of the power of Satan, from darkness into light, to win them to God. The response (in the Daily Text) reflected their feelings: “The strength of God is mighty in the weakness of his servants.”

Against all expectation, on the day of their arrival (which was a Sunday) they found a planter whose name was Lorenzen, who gave them lodging. Without their knowing about it, Mr. Lorenzen had received a letter concerning these brethren from a friend in Copenhagen.

This man offered to take them free of payment and to see to all the essentials until they were able to exist on their own or until someone else would offer them their home and help them. They saw with deep gratitude God’s guidance and care in the warm welcome of Mr. Lorenzen. This was just at a time when they had been concerned where they would find lodging in this so foreign place, and how to cope with paying for it all because everything was so very expensive.

On the very first Sunday they began in the Name of Jesus Christ to do what they had come to do. They went in search of Anton’s sister Anna who, with her second brother Abraham, served on one of the company plantations. They brought her the letter from her brother Anton and read it to her. In the letter he told how he had become converted, become a Christian, and he pleaded for her to do likewise. Anton quoted in his letter the Scripture, John 17:3. Reading this, the brethren pointed out to Anna, and the other Negroes who were there, the blessing of salvation.

“Yes, for you too,” they said, “Jesus conquered death to save you and give you eternal life and this is the reason we have come here, to make this known unto you.”

Even though they mixed the German and Dutch languages (in what they said to them) the Negroes still understood them. Accepting their talk as a message which heaven sent them, they rejoiced, clapping their hands. Up to then they had believed that what the white brethren (those preachers who ministered in the churches attended only by whites) had brought was meant only for white people, and that the black had no right to accept it.

A deep impression of the first sermon of Christ’s love and grace remained in the heart of Anna and her brother Abraham. From that day they looked up to the brethren as sent from God as teachers. This was the Third Sunday of Advent and the text given was from Matthew 11, in which the Lord spoke, “The gospel is preached to the poor” (vs. 5). This was the simple beginning of the work of the brethren among the Negroes of St. Thomas whose blessings years later spread among thousands of the people on the island.

Copyright © 1982 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine. Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

Book Briefs: January 1, 1982

Christian Business Ethics

The Christian Entrepreneur, by Carl Kreider (Herald Press, 1980, 214 pp., $7.95), is reviewed by Eldon Howard, international treasurer, Sudan Interior Mission, Cedar Grove, New Jersey.

Yes, sound economic principles and scriptural principles can go hand in hand. Carl Kreider, a professor at Goshen College, has provided a very thought-provoking study for the serious Christian businessman.

Kreider’s treatment of the problems surrounding wealth and capital, their acquisition, allocation, and application, is very useful. He is especially helpful in discussing the need to reevaluate our North American business scene and the various “capitalistic,” “socialistic,” and “Marxist” countries that we work in, putting into Christian perspective a scriptural theoretical, economic framework from which a small businessman or mission executive can view the world around himself.

Christian ethics in business receives special treatment. Knowing Mennonite terminology is helpful, but not a requirement for the reader. The years of background in business and lifestyle applications of the Mennonites provide insights that most evangelical Christians have not faced, but they will find them useful.

Beginning with principles from economics and the Scriptures, Kreider builds examples to illustrate specific applications in business ethics, standards of living, the joy of giving, and the unique gifts the entrepreneur brings to the church. One probably will not agree with everything Kreider has written, but he himself states: “I must confess that I am still not sure of the correctness of all the judgments I make.… The book is intended to stimulate dialogue and through this process yield practical conclusions which are more valid than my initial tentative statements.”

The survey of alternative forms of business organizations was thought-provoking. It forces reflection on alternative structures other than the usual private, not-for-profit, or governmental ownership models. Some of the case studies he cites are new and stimulating.

Kreider’s insights on payment and benefits for employees, owners, professionals, pastors, and full-time Christian workers will require some reflection. The Christian Entrepreneur is not a book to be lightly skimmed, but rather savored and analyzed. It is a book that could make a difference in one’s life.

Nature And The Christian

Earthkeeping: Christian Stewardship of Natural Resources, edited by Loren Wilkinson (Eerdmans, 1980, 325 pp., $10.95), is reviewed by Martin LaBar, professor of science at Central Wesleyan College, Central, South Carolina.

Earthkeeping is a well-written, serious attempt to view our use of resources from a Christian perspective. The book was a production of the Fellows of the Calvin Center for Christian Scholarship, Calvin College, with Wilkinson and six others doing the writing. It is written clearly enough that any interested person could read and understand it. It is also thorough enough that it is under personal consideration for use as a college text.

There are some problems with the scholarliness of this book, however. Though there are adequate notes, and a 30-item annotated bibliography (including such diverse items as Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and two books on John Calvin), there is no mention of Pollution and the Death of Man by Francis Schaeffer, Ecology Crisis by John W. Klotz, or anything previously published in such periodicals as CHRISTIANITY TODAY or the Journal of the American Scientific Affiliation. Wilkinson et al. are not the first persons who take the Bible seriously to have written about these matters.

That there are advantages to multiple authorship is apparent. Earthkeeping deals with the philosophy, political economics, and theology of mankind’s relationship to natural resources, and his interactions with other people with respect to natural resources. The authors do not seem to fit any particular political or economic pigeonhole, but they do raise thought-provoking questions about the way many things are done by individuals, corporations, and countries. I found their analyses of theories of justice, historic views of the relationship of man and nature, of the nature of man, and of the Hebrew of Genesis 1 and 2 especially helpful. The lists of suggested practices and the 30 Bible-based guidelines for action surprised me in that they are both considerably more than an average intelligent Christian could come up with in two hours, and relatively noncontroversial.

Earthkeeping is printed on recycled paper—in keeping with responsible use of our resources. Thoughtfully read, it proves to be a valuable book, clearly showing a Christian perspective on such problems as hunger, exploitation, scarcity, and pollution, and pointing toward the time when the statement “… there is little to indicate that the Christian vision has improved the generally destructive human attitude toward the rest of creation” (p. 26) is no longer true.

Spiritual Help

The Will of God, by Morris Ashcraft (Broadman, 1980, 149 pp., $3.95 pb); Liberating Limits, by John A. Huffman, Jr. (Word, 1980, 155 pp., $5.95); and The Concordia Pulpit, 1981 (Concordia, 1980, 296 pp., $11.95 hb), are reviewed by David Sorensen, intern pastor at Faith Lutheran Church, Duluth, Minnesota.

New England fishmongers of the eighteenth century pushed carts about town peddling their “fresh fish” to all within earshot. Their product was always fish, you can be sure, but was it always “fresh”?

Peddlers in the Christian book market are vying for our business with calls of “fresh insight, fresh insight.” All three books reviewed here contain insight, to be sure—but is it “fresh”?

Morris Ashcraft, professor of Christian theology at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary of Kansas City, Missouri, offers a nice day’s catch in his book, The Will of God. He begins by posing some simple questions: “What does the will of God mean to me? Where do we start in seeking this insight?” That is simple enough—until he shares the pain behind the questions: the tragic death of an older brother, a plane crash when he flew off the end of an aircraft carrier, the death of his baby boy. His beginning is intensely personal, which is a real necessity for such a subject.

From this beginning he moves into several chapters of careful scholarship. His study of the Scriptures is certainly strong in exegesis and rich in historical perspective. Yet I am not sure he succeeded here in his stated goal: “To translate technical study into the language of the lay reader.” To the biblical scholar, these chapters are “exhaustive”; to the general reader, they may be “exhausting.” Nevertheless, certain “fresh insights” emerge from his survey of Scripture.

Notably, Ashcraft introduces the idea of “community” to his study. “I cannot know God’s will or do it except in company with other persons. God’s will is such that it brings us not only to him but also into a closer relationship with one another. We understand his will and do it only in community.”

With broad insight, he takes the reader beyond merely a desire to know God’s will “for me.” His bigger picture includes a concern for God’s will for families, for communities, for churches, and even for the church of Christ through all ages.

He closes the book with two very practical chapters. The first contains a thorough overview of some popular misconceptions of the will of God. Almost anyone could find a hint of himself here. The last chapter brings the book to an appropriate conclusion: that knowing God’s will and doing it must go together like a two-sided coin.

The author never offers “10 easy ways” to discover God’s will, nor does he escape the hard questions by claiming, “It’s all a mystery.” Ashcraft has no quick answers. Instead, we find him to be a man willing to seek God’s unfolding will through life’s journey. “We can come to know more about it along the way.”

As excellent books often are, this book will be welcomed by Christians across denominational boundaries.

Another sort of fish altogether is John A. Huffman, Jr.’s book, Liberating Limits. Pastor of Saint Andrew’s Presbyterian Church in Newport Beach, California, he writes in the popular style that Ashcraft occasionally lacks. The illustrations generally hit the mark, too, though they are not as intimate as Ashcraft’s.

But there is a fundamental problem. Chapter one promises to deliver “fresh insight” into the Ten Commandments. Huffman claims that “the person who thinks he is truly free may find that he is in bondage. The person who is willing to accept certain negatives as guidelines for his life, and who approaches them with the correct attitude, will find that he is actually free.”

What follow are 10 chapters of well-written thoughts on how the Ten Commandments are abused in today’s world. Useful, yes; insightful, sometimes; liberating, not really. The bulk of the book deals with limits, to be sure, but the idea of liberation was left behind somewhere in chapter one.

In the last chapter, Huffman’s writing fairly sings of Christ’s liberating powers. “In our fast-moving technological era, death is right around the corner for all of us. Jesus doesn’t keep us from dying. Through his death and resurrection, he does keep us from staying dead.” But for all his evangelistic enthusiasm, we still don’t learn much about “liberating limits.”

I found myself wanting to like this book, but it never seemed to deliver what I was led to expect from the title and the opening chapter. “Liberating limits” in the Ten Commandments? This volume served only to spark my curiosity.

The third book, The Concordia Pulpit, 1981, is a collection of sermon aids contributed by 38 different writers. The biblical scholarship seemed good throughout, but the sermon outlines and illustrations showed both the advantages and disadvantages of having so many contributors. On the positive side, one could say the contributions were varied and diverse. On the other hand, they were also spotty and of varying quality.

This book is designed for use in the pastor’s sermon preparation and would be of interest only to the rare lay person. As a helpful resource, occasionally useful, it is worth having around for some “fresh insight” as needed.

Making It Work

A Theology of Church Leadersmp, by Lawrence O. Richards and Clyde Hoeldtke (Zondervan, 1980, 352 pp., $12.95), is reviewed by George Mallone, teaching elder in Emmanuel Christian Community, Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.

Larry Richards has once again spoken to the renewal of the church. If this time he is more specific in his criticism of the “institutional church,” it is for good reason: with his long-time friend and associate, Clyde Hoeldtke, Richards has tackled the subject of leadership in the local church.

Richards and Hoeldtke suggest that much of the malaise of today’s church stems from an inadequate view of Jesus Christ as head of the church. Jesus is more often treated as the “titular chairman of the board” or “head emeritus” rather than the dynamic head of his body. To lead us out of this confusion, the authors begin with a series of biblical word studies (e.g., head, body, growth). The conclusion of this research leads us to see the church as a growing organism, functioning under a living head, rather than as an institution laboring under a hierarchical managerial structure.

With a proper understanding of the church, it is then possible to describe the nature of leadership needed for this growing organism. In chapters 6–10, Richards and Hoeldtke suggest that leaders are essentially committeed to serving the body by both modeling and teaching the truth. Their overriding concern will not be for self-fulfillment or advancement, but for the edification of the body.

While admitting that management techniques and organizational systems are neither morally right nor wrong, they do maintain that these approaches are in conflict with the church as an organism. Organizations tend to focus upon planning, directing, controlling, and staffing (chapter 13), but this approach, say the authors, conflicts with both the nature and priority of the church.

If the standard tools of the secular leader are denied to the church leader, how does that person perform his or her ministry? Richards and Hoeldtke suggest that if we are going to build and strengthen a living church we must focus upon allegiance in relationships (chapters 15–23). By allegiance the authors mean total loyalty to Jesus Christ as head and to our brothers and sisters in the family of God. Our loyalty is not to the church heritage or to charismatic or noncharismatic experience, or even to pastor X rather than pastor Y. It is to the body in which Christ has placed us. The hurdle to overcome is then not ideological but relational. Are we living in loving and caring relationships within the body?

Dissociating themselves from movements that teach that every believer needs a shepherd to tell him how to act and what to do, Richards and Hoeldtke encourage the personal responsibility of every believer to interact with the head of the body. In what is probably the best section of the book, the authors reject both “authority-centered” leadership as well as “team-centered” leadership in favor of “body-centered” relationships. Elders become responsible for “the decisions that affect the life style of the body” (p. 313), but at the same time they do not attempt to control the ministries of the congregation. Each member of the body is accountable to the head for the ministry vision and to the body for ministry support.

When pastors are bombarded daily with promotions for managerial leadership, why are Richards and Hoeldtke so committed to such a contrary position? Because they believe it is biblical and alone honoring to Jesus Christ (p. 399). If they are correct, the church has compromised with the world more than we might have imagined.

War And Peace

War and Peace from Genesis to Revelation, by Vernard Eller (Herald Press, 1981, 232 pp., $8.95), is reviewed by Peter C. Craigie, dean, faculty of humanities, University of Calgary, Calgary, Alberta, Canada.

Vernard Eller, professor of religion at the University of La Verne in California, has published 10 books in the last 13 years, ranging from biblical studies and theology to ethics. War and Peace is a thoroughly revised version of a book first published in 1973: King Jesus’ Manual of Arms for the Armless. The subtitle of the 1973 edition has become the title of the 1981 edition.

The book embraces all three of the disciplines that are within Eller’s sphere of interest. It is biblical study, not of a technical kind, but in the sense that the major substance of the book emerges from detailed study of certain key portions of the biblical text. It is theology, not for the professional theologian, but for the ordinary person who wants to work out a biblically informed theological position. And it concerns ethics in that it treats a major ethical issue of our time: war and violence.

This is one of the most deceptive books (in a positive sense) that I have read for many years. The language is popular (for Eller is aiming at an audience ranging from high school students to adults), so that one can easily be misled into thinking that the substance and argument are at the same level as the style. The writing is racy and colloquial, as implied by the original title, and current subtitle, of the book. It is deceptive precisely because it is packed with solid teaching, careful thought, and real wisdom.

Eller examines the subject of war and peace, taking into account the difficulties of the Old Testament military material, the meaning of Jesus with respect to violence, and the significance of the Book of Revelation. Throughout the study, he integrates the ancient text with contemporary thought and practice, and thus executes biblical study and theology at its best in a style relevant to the modern world. And though easily read, this is a book that will reward rereading, for the argument in places is subtle and highly significant. Eller draws no simple conclusions, does not side too easily with either militarists or pacifists, and brings out clearly the profundity of the biblical insight on war and peace. Most of all, this book is characterized by wisdom and balance—rare commodities in a debate in which even pacifists may become violently aroused; it is highly recommended. The topic, sadly, is perennially relevant and one on which informed Christians must have some clear understanding.

Briefly Noted

Marriage. David L. Hocking writes a clear, sensible guide to fulfillment in Love and Marriage (Harvest House). More elaborate and very informative is Marrying Well: Possibilities in Christian Marriage Today (Doubleday), by Evelyn and James Whitehead, written from a Roman Catholic Christian perspective. Your Marriage Has Real Possibilities (Here’s Life), by Cyril and Aldyth Barber, offers “biblical principles of marriage,” primarily drawing on Old Testament characters. Marriage Is for Two (Augsburg), by Omar Stuenkel, is a bit generalized, but sound in its advice. R. C. Sproul stresses communication as the key in Discovering the Intimate Marriage (Bethany Fellowship). Communication: Key to Your Marriage (Regal), by H. Norman Wright, also stresses (needless to say) the same thing. It is now in its twelfth printing. Geoffrey Bromiley, in God and Marriage (Eerdmans/T & T Clark), offers a competent, insightful theology of marriage. Marriage in Today’s World (Herald), by H. Clair Amstutz, looks at the problem areas in marriage, offering helpful suggestions.

Two excellent books dealing with sex in marriage are: The Gift of Sex (Word), by Clifford and Joyce Penner, and Intended for Pleasure (Revell), by Ed and Gaye Wheat. Both are thoroughly Christian and decidedly helpful.

Family Foundations (Baker), by Paul and Richard Meier, offers clues to how to have a happy home, and Beloved Unbeliever (Zondervan), by Jo Berry, shows how to love your husband into the faith.

H. Norman Wright has written a superb book for pastors and counselors in Marital Counseling: A Biblically Based Behavioral Cognitive Approach (Christian Marriage Enrichment, 8000 E. Giarard, Suite 601, Denver, Colorado).

Divorce/Remarriage. A basic research tool is Divorce in the 70s: A Subject Bibliography (Oryx Press), by Kenneth D. Sell, which contains almost 5,000 entries.

It is hard to classify the point of view in the following books because there are shades of agreement and difference, but the first group is more stringent, the second group less so.

The more stringent books are: Divorce and the Christian (Tyndale), by Robert J. Plekker; New Light on Divorce and Remarriage (Select), by Preston W. Snowman; and The Divorce Myth (Bethany House), by J. Carl Laney. Less stringent are: Divorce and Remarriage in the Church (Zondervan), by Stanley A. Ellisen; Remarriage: A Healing Gift from God (Word), by Larry Richards; and Marriage, Divorce and Remarriage in the Bible (Presbyterian & Reformed), by Jay Adams.

And I Say Unto You (Bookhouse, Box 11655, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma), by James O. Baird, is a study of eight positions regarding divorce and remarriage in the light of Matthew 19:3–12. It clearly presents the options.

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