November 09, 2012

Martin Luther’s “Black Cloister”

In Wittenberg, Germany there stands a beautiful old cloister with more than its fair share of history. Though this large medieval structure was well-known for religious purposes, that is not where its claim to fame originated . . . instead, it was propelled into the pages of history when reformer Martin Luther and his family took up residence inside its storied walls.

The “Black Cloister,” as it was originally named, was built in the early 1500s and was ceremoniously presented to Luther as a dwelling-place. From the front, the building is indeed very German, long, lean, peppered with windows of various sizes, and accessorized with a distinctive rounded tower in the center. The decorative dormer windows put one in mind of the half-timber houses one might see in German city centers like grand old Munich. A side view of the buildings reveals another rounded tower (one can only imagine what the rooms in that tower must look like, except those who have been fortunate enough to visit for themselves). The top of the structure is dark window-work and is very gothic, lending to the Black Cloister’s historical charm.

Closer inspection of a particular door reveals that it does not carry the same design as the Cloister’s other doors. This door was constructed in 1540 and commissioned by Katharina von Bora Luther, “My Lord Katie,” as Martin Luther affectionately called her. The interior of the Black Cloister is as simple and yet as gothically handsome as the exterior. Various rooms have been decorated to look as they would have looked during the time when Martin Luther cared for his family, housed students, and held colorful sessions of his “Table Talk.”

A particularly beautiful room is the great-room, which showcases Luther’s beautiful old iron stove. This monster of a stove is very 16^th century in appearance and gives a good feel for how differently homes were equipped in this era. The painted woodwork and wooden doors evoke not only that long-ago century but Germany in particular, as that nation was already becoming famous for such decoration.

The Black Cloister is not a “shrine” . . . it is not special simply because Martin Luther and his family lived here, but also because of the ideas and dreams that were circulated here. Many Germans had grown tired of the abuses of the medieval Catholic Church but had been conditioned to obey without complaint. When the time came that they could voice their concerns . . . practices in which they did not believe, corrupt hierarchy, whatever their complaints . . . without fear of retribution or even death, they experienced a surge of hope. A time had come when men dared to follow their own consciences and go against the grain.

And this newfound freedom of faith flourished at the Black Cloister.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

November 08, 2012

Random Anabaptist Martyrs . . . And Why They’re Far From Random

The word “random” somehow implies that someone was unimportant . . . they were chosen by chance. Yet the random Protestant martyrs I choose to highlight here are far more precious in God’s eyes --- and in the eyes of those who long to remember them --- than could ever be said. Often these names just “jump out” at me and their stories beg to be told. Yesterday I was poking around “Martyrs’ Mirror” and found the following witnesses:

Marcus Eder, whose age is unknown, found himself imprisoned in 1605 for professing the Anabaptist faith. Local officials “brought out the big guns” by sending a few influential Jesuits to beseech him and his fellow prisoner Hans Poltzinger to take up Catholicism. In those days the Jesuits were well-known for their hatred of everything Protestant, and the arrival of such men must have brought great fear. Yet Marcus, holding onto that quiet steadfastness for which so many of the early martyrs were known, brushed off their entreaties.

He suffered great torment not only due to his faith but also so his captors might know the names of his accomplices. They got nothing out of him. Marcus was quite adamant against accepting the Catholic faith, clearly and patiently naming the reasons he could not bring himself to do so, without fear of what might be done to him. He was killed on April 24, 1605 and his body was later burned. His last words concerned his “brother,” fellow Anabaptist Hans Poltzinger: “God be praised, my brother has overcome; and I will do likewise.”

I also chose a woman to commemorate. Though she was not killed for her beliefs, she suffered horrendous tortures in the name of Anabaptism. Her name was Anna (Bar) Meili. Born in November 1618, about twenty years old at the time of her imprisonment, she was apprehended just after giving birth to daughter Verena and was subsequently starved and tormented. Her captors excelled in physical abuse. While men bore the brunt of it, women were subjected to it as well.

While many young women might have been tempted to give in for the sake of their children, Anna understood that Christ came first, even though it hurt her heart to be away from her little ones. Providence smiled upon her and her captors released her. Yet after returning to her family and joyfully awaiting the birth of another child, she was again imprisoned. Anna was no fool. She knew she was soon to give birth and she used this as a way to escape. She birthed her son Jacob in 1639 and fled her chains.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

November 07, 2012

French and Dutch Protestants and London’s “Temple of Jesus”

In London there is a medieval edifice known as the Strangers’ Church, or, as its 16^th century worshipers would have referred to it, the “Temple of Jesus.” It was originally built in the 13^th century by the Earl of Hereford and suffered air raid damage during World War II. Though a new church was constructed, much of the old structure has remained intact and is a quite beautiful historical relic. The story behind is stunning as well . . .

No one is exactly sure why French and Dutch Protestants referred to their churches as “temples.” The current opinion seems to be that they wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be mistaken for Catholic churches or cathedrals, and that makes sense, but the first instance in which that name was used will probably never be known. What is known is that Protestant temples were far from welcome in most of Europe.

In 1550, Protestantism was still fairly new, yet the Huguenots and their Dutch Calvinist cousins had already suffered persecution for several years. Germany was fairly flourishing under this new thought brought by Martin Luther and other reformers, but more strictly Catholic countries loathed the Calvinist ideals that had rapidly spread among people of all social classes. Feeling the burn of persecution --- figuratively and, in many cases, literally --- foreign Protestants desperately sought nations with similar religious ideals that would be willing to take them in. England volunteered.

That old and venerable nation was well-known for Protestant tendencies, first during the reign of Edward VI and later during the reign of his half-sister Elizabeth I (with the sorrowful “burning time” under Mary I in between). Such amity between English and French Protestants helped to bring about the “Temple of Jesus” which was given to Dutch and French Protestants by way of Polish native Jean a Lasco and his hearty band of petitioners. With both Dutch- and French-speaking pastors, it catered to London’s Huguenot refugee population as well.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

November 06, 2012

16^th Century Hungary: An Unlikely Protestant Stronghold

While I often focus on Germany, France, Switzerland, and Britain (which happen to be my ancestral homelands) I recently became interested in Hungary’s part in the Protestant Reformation. To my surprise, many Hungarians accepted Protestantism in its early decades. I was fascinated to learn that there was a quite significant German population that aided native Hungarian speakers with reading the great tracts of the Reform and possibly also with learning Scripture in their own tongue. One influential Protestant Hungarian was Michael Sztarai (I’ll discuss him below).

As was the norm in 16^th century Europe, officials aimed to squelch this newfound movement and to restore orthodoxy to Hungary and neighboring territories. While this worked to a certain degree, there were many Protestant Hungarians who refused to be converted. Hungarian Protestantism was sustained by tough individuals like Michael Sztarai, a reformer who helped to carry Luther’s message to the wilds of Transylvania and beyond. Transylvania (which was under Hungarian rule at the time) was full of German nationals and was known by them as “Sibenburgen.” Unfortunately, though Sztarai was a key player in Hungarian Protestantism, little information seems to be known about his personal life.

Hungarian Protestants were not always strictly “Lutheran” in the way they administered the faith, though they ascribed to most Lutheran tenets. These individuals became known for championing an odd mixture of Lutheranism and Calvinism that was too Lutheran for Calvinists and too Calvinist for Lutherans . . . though Catholic officials attempted to destroy it in all forms. Michael Sztarai was only one of many men and women who struggled through the birth pangs of the Reformation just as Germany, the disseminator of their newfound creed, had done. Those who refused to cave into pressure are still noted for their constancy and devotion.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

November 05, 2012

Puritan Proverbs

Sometimes it seems as if we Americans have a love-hate relationship with our Puritan history. Those with strong Protestant backgrounds (especially tending toward Calvinism) seem to appreciate Puritan views, while others see our nation’s forebears as fanatical, harsh, and stoic. Whatever your view, here are some great Puritan proverbs to ponder.

The first is well known in various forms: “As you sow, so shall you reap.” This cannot be stressed enough! You can’t spend your entire life building a house with glass windows and then bemoan the first storm. You can’t speed down the road on your custom-built motorcycle and cry over the loss of your beloved set of wheels when the inevitable happens.

Next is “Love rules without a sword and binds without a cord.” A truly beautiful representation of Scriptural love. If friends and family treat each other gently, no one will have cause for bitterness. Children will not resent a tender father when he lays down the law, as they understand --- through his usual kindness --- that he means the best. Love is binding but not stifling.

Third comes “Never let what you don’t know disturb your faith in what you do know.” This is a wonderful gem! Do not let doubts and confusions pull you from God, for Christians know instinctively that He is there and He is in control.

The last one is my favorite (tongue-in-cheek): “Marry a child of the devil and you’re going to have problems with your father-in-law”! Hmmm . . . I don’t know what to say about this one. Feel free to embellish this proverb with your own imaginations!

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

November 04, 2012

The 1685 Edict of Potsdam and How It Might Have Saved Our Ancestors’ Lives

Early Protestant history was full of edicts. Most were issued to stop wars; some were issued to grant privileges. Some, like the sorrowful Edict of Fontainebleau in 1685, were issued to take away the most basic rights. The Edict of Potsdam was one of the positive decrees. For those of us whose French ancestors came to Germany during persecution, whether to settle there or to later come to America, it was a life-saving decree. The Edict of Potsdam came about in October 1685, directly after France’s King Louis XIV issued the Edict of Fontainebleau and effectively stripped French Protestants of nearly everything they had ever known.

German Elector Friederich Wilhelm of Brandenburg, a Protestant, hated to see the Huguenots being dealt such a rough hand. He may have had an ulterior motive as well . . . he understood that the “Protestant work ethic” had produced in the Huguenots a strong and industrious spirit, and they worked without complaint and were generally moral Christian folk. Desiring to better Brandenburg-Prussia’s finances, he quickly came to the conclusion that more workers equaled a financially-healthy land.

Friederich Wilhelm’s kindness was quite generous for the day. He promised the Huguenots full rights and allowed them to settle wherever they wished within Brandenburg-Prussia. Also, he had the foresight not to force them to worship in German, which would have been a bone of contention . . . as long as they kept to the law of the land, they were allowed to worship in French. The Huguenots had long known many regions of Germany as conspicuously Protestant. This sudden lifeline must have been a dream come true to those who had been thrust so suddenly into darkness and had no idea where to turn. A sampling of the Edict of Potsdam easily explains why it meant so much to Protestants who had been crushed at every turn (Note the “Royal We” and “Royal Our” often present!):

“. . . and, in general, we wish them to be regarded and treated on the same footing as our own native subjects.” 

“Our said French co-religionists in each town shall be provided with their own pastor, and Divine Service shall be conducted in the French language with the same rites and ceremonies as have hitherto been customary in the Evangelical-Reformed Churches in France.”

“As soon as these our French co-religionists of the Evangelical-Reformed faith have settled in any town or village, they shall be admitted to the domiciliary rights and craft freedoms customary there, gratis and without payment of any fee; and shall be entitled to the benefits, rights, and privileges enjoyed by our other, native, subjects, residing there.”

These basic citizenry rights had not even been granted to French Protestants in their own country! Friederich Wilhelm was a man in the Huguenots’ own corner, a man with a prudent heart. He may very well have been one of those figures who changed the course of religious history . . .

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

November 03, 2012

Robert Barnes and the English Reformation

While I often feature Anabaptist, Huguenot, and occasionally Anglican martyrs of the Reformation era, I seldom mention Lutheran martyrs. This is only because for some reason, it seems more difficult to find such individuals when Anabaptism and Calvinism produced such an overabundance of witnesses. Yesterday I discovered Robert Barnes. Though not German as many Lutherans were at the time, he confessed the Lutheran creed, and this is his story.

Barnes was born in 1495 in Norfolk, England, placing him in the age bracket of many early reformers. Like many of the reformers and martyrs who started out with a strong Catholic education, Robert Barnes soon came to the Protestant faith and to Lutheranism in particular. It must be wondered if the reason for so many ecclesiastical converts had to do with the fact that those trained in the church were more literate and had studied religious matters more abundantly.

By the 1530s Barnes had taken his faith to the next level, gathering with friends for Scriptural debates and outwardly discussing Protestantism. Even his preaching began to reflect the Lutheran creed. This, according to his superiors, was a sign of alarm. Barnes found himself in Germany in the mid-1500s, probably in his late 30s or early 40s, and joyously celebrated his newfound faith with many others of like mind. He particularly cherished time spent with Doctor Martin Luther himself. Luther described Barnes as “our good, pious dinner guest and houseguest . . . this holy martyr, St. Robert Barnes.”

It was a dangerous time to be a Protestant, as every Reformation-minded individual well knew. Upon returning to his homeland Barnes initially worked between Germany and England and reveled in such a position. After a series of unfortunate political and religious events (many of which involved Henry VIII and his personal affairs) Robert Barnes found himself on the losing end. He was treated as a heretic and traitor, and the town of Smithfield became his final dwelling-place. He was burned here on July 30, 1540, aged about forty-five.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved