These four posts are based
on the sermon I presented on the first Sunday of 2018. I took a New Year focus because
of the timing but I hope the material and personal reflection is of interest at
other times of the year. I acknowledge that some turns of phrase may have their
origins in the book Firstfruit
that I had read last year after visiting historic Moravian sites in Europe.
I suggest reading the posts in order - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.
I suggest reading the posts in order - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.
Count Nicholas Ludwig von Zinzendorf was visiting the art museum at Dusseldorf. The
year
was 1719. The young nobleman had been raised by his German Lutheran grandmother
and then attended the Christian boarding school in Halle, where personal experience
of faith was a real focus. He had now finished university and was taking the
traditional Grand Tour – an exploration of the art, culture and learning of the
top cities of Europe. This was the fifth art gallery he had visited that week.
As Ludwig strolled round the masterpieces on display, he came to one picture
that caught his attention, and he stopped to study it. The painting was called Ecce Homo, Behold the Man, and it showed
Jesus on trial, wearing a crown of thorns. At the bottom, the artist had
painted: This I have done for you; what
have you done for me? The question shocked young Ludwig. He pondered, what had he done for Christ? He
had loved him, trusted him, prayed, read the Bible and gone to church, but all
this seemed insignificant compared with what Christ had done for him. His
thoughts went back to times at school when he had listened to visiting
missionaries. These people were doing something. He resolved to spend his life
not in idle luxury but in serving Christ. This rich young ruler had said ‘Yes’
to following Jesus.
As he pondered further, he reflected on the artists
and teachers from every branch of Christianity he had met on his travels. He
had talked with Catholics, Protestants, Mennonites and mystics, with many views
on religion. He was convinced they had much in common if they would just listen
to one another. These two thoughts “all
Christians have a common bond” and “what shall I do for Christ?” merged into one
big idea. In the midst of a lavish Grand Tour, he caught a vision of what he
could do for Christ; he would bring Christians together into one family who
would accept and tolerate one another's differences.
Zinzendorf was to become
a great leader in the eighteenth-century church, and his story is inspiring. I have picked out four themes that emerged as he sought to build unity
across Christian communities. I hope that these four snippets from his faith journey might prompt some questions in our own minds, about "what I can do for Christ" in 2018.
Ludwig travelled for
another year, and when he returned to his grandmother’s estate in Saxony, found
she had become quite frail and her lands run down. He was keen to train for the
Lutheran ministry but his family opposed this, feeling it was beneath his dignity
as a Count. When he turned 21, he used his inheritance to buy the whole family
estate of Berthelsdorf – a village, a church and several farms. His hope was to
build a Christian community where his faith vision could be fulfilled.
He appointed a manager
for the farms, and a pastor for the church, and promised that they would work
together as Christian brothers. One of the first people they were able to help
was a local preacher called Christian David, who often visited his birthplace Moravia,
200 miles away, in today’s Czech Republic. Brother David had been ministering there
to a group of persecuted Christians who traced back to the reformer Jan Hus. In fifteenth century Prague, Hus had protested against the teachings of the Roman Catholic
hierarchy and been burnt at the stake – 100 years before Luther’s protest. The followers
of Hus had later formed a group called the Unitas Fratrum - Unity of the
Brethren. They believed that what made a Christian was not doctrine or church
tradition, but a simple life of humility and holiness, following Jesus. After
the Reformation, they had been gravely persecuted for these beliefs and were
looking for a place to live out their faith unhindered by the Czech authorities.
Christian David wondered if Zinzendorf might let some of them settle on the Berthelsdorf
estate – and that is what happened.
Following the Biblical teachings about "welcoming
the stranger" (eg Deut 10: 18-19, Matt 25), Zinzendorf gifted land and timber to these folk from Moravia, and
they established the town of Herrnhut as a centre of Christian discipleship and
teaching.
Welcoming refugees is something for which Christians
in New Zealand are renowned. Forty years ago, the first Vietnamese boat people
were granted refuge here. The churches in Dargaville, where we lived then, took
responsibility for several families, and provided housing, clothes, food, and
language help for some years. More recently I have visited the Mangere RefugeeReception Centre, where 150 refugees arrive every eight weeks, and are cared
for by a hundred social workers, clinical psychologists, nurses, psychiatrists,
physios, occupational therapists, and
interpreters. Many of these immigrants have experienced trauma or
torture, just as the Moravian exiles did in Zinzendorf’s day.
To think about: Your community
will have its own opportunities to provide such support. Consider: Where might I be welcoming
to strangers this year?
When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and the princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flocks,
The work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among people,
To make music in the heart.
Howard Thurman.
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