1640
What is the best form of church government? Should there be bishops ruling in a hierarchical order, should each congregation be independent, should councils and synods establish church policy, or should a church be organized along some other lines? These issues were being fiercely debated in England in the seventeenth century. On December 11, 1640, the citizens of London presented a petition with 15,000 signatures to Parliament. Known as the “Root and Branch Petition”, it sought to sweep away the existing church hierarchy with its “roots and branches.”
The petition listed dozens of reasons for being rid of the existing system. Its second point can be taken as an example of the whole document. The evil it complained of was “The faint-heartedness of ministers to preach the truth of God, lest they should displease the prelates [churchmen of high rank]; as namely, the doctrine of predestination, of free grace, of perseverance, of original sin remaining after baptism, of the Sabbath, the doctrine against universal grace, election for faith foreseen, freewill against Antichrist, non-residents, human inventions in God’s worship; all which are generally withheld from the people’s knowledge, because not relishing [ie: not pleasing] to the bishops.”
The Parliament which received the “Root and Branch Petition” became known as the Long Parliament. It was called by King Charles I out of his desperate need for money and lasted for twenty years. Once called, the Parliament took measures to destroy the absolutism of the King in both civil and religious affairs. The House of Commons accepted the “Root and Branch Petition” and passed the “Roots and Branch Bill.” A majority of the members believed the office of bishop and the policies of Archbishop Laud should be destroyed, but they were not sure what form of church government to put in their place. As one member, Oliver Cromwell said, “I can tell you, sirs, what I would not have, though I cannot what I would.”
There were several options available once the old hierarchy of rule by king-appointed bishops was abolished. Some wanted a state church with a commission chosen by Parliament replacing the bishops; some wanted a form of Scottish Presbyterianism. Others wanted an independent church, with each individual congregation controlling its own affairs. In the end, the House of Commons favored Presbyterianism while the Army favored the Independents. The House of Lords (which included many bishops), opposed the Root and Branch Bill entirely. They resented any pressure from the people to reorganize their House. Ultimately, the Bill was rejected by the House of Lords, and the episcopal organization of the Church of England remained in place.
1818
He was an illegitimate child–his mother’s third. A child who might have been a casualty of abortion in today’s world, grew up to have a name that will forever be associated with the Christmas season.
Students of history remember that in 1792, King Louis XVI of France went on trial for treason before the Revolutionary Convention that had replaced the French National Assembly. His head would roll the following January. But on this day, December 11, 1792, a few days before Christmas–the same day, in fact, that the French king faced his cruel judges–a much quieter event took place. Joseph Mohr was born in Salzburg.
At the time of his birth, it appeared his name would be associated with nothing but disgrace. When Franz Joseph Mohr learned he’d gotten Ann Schoiber pregnant, he fled the home and deserted the army, leaving the mother to face the music alone, including a steep fine. She was a knitter who earned little. It would have taken her a full year’s wage to pay the penalty.
The town’s brutal executioner stepped into the picture. He would pay the fine and become the child’s godfather. He hoped by doing this to improve his own reputation. But little Joseph’s life now bore another stigma: godson of the feared and hated executioner. He was banned from attending school or learning a trade, or even from holding a job.
He loved to sing. While playing on steps leading up to a Capuchin monastery, he was overheard singing by Johann Nepomuk Hiernle, a Benedictine monk and cathedral choirmaster. Hiernle thought the boy’s voice so good, he could not bear to see it wasted. He found Ann Schoiber and arranged for Mohr to study with his elite group of students.
Hiernle’s kindness was not wasted. Mohr proved to be an outstanding pupil and mastered the organ, violin and guitar by the time he was twelve. He always placed in the top quarter of the class. His training continued and he was ordained a priest in 1815.
Over the course of his life, he was assigned duties in many towns. But it was while he was yet a young assistant in Oberndorf that he won lasting fame. He wrote the words to a new Christmas carol and asked the church organist, Franz Gruber, to set them to music. On Christmas Eve, 1818, the two first sang what has since become the most popular Christmas carol of all time: “Silent Night, Holy Night.”
“Silent Night” captures the awesome humility of a God who stooped not just to the level of mankind, but to the lowest level–born among animals and announced to common shepherds.
In his last post, at Wagrain, Mohr opened a school which took in poor children. He gave virtually his entire income to this project and died as poor as he was born. But he left us the riches of “Silent Night” which has been translated into 200 languages. Millions who have never given a thought to Louis XVI sing Joseph Mohr’s words every Christmas.
1862
In 1862, when Lars Skrefsrud asked the Norwegian Missionary Society to send him out as a missionary, the mission leaders in Stavanger, Norway turned him down. They didn’t want an ex-con representing them on the foreign field. Lars had just spent four years in prison for theft. But he persevered and became Norway’s best-known missionary.
Lars would not give up because Christ had transformed his life. A Norwegian named Hans Hauge had recently led Scandinavia in revival. The influence of Hauge’s movement reached Lars even in prison. He read religious books and repented of the alcoholism and wild living that had put him behind bars. He was encouraged by his friend Anna Olsum, who never stopped believing in him. Gifted with the ability to master languages, he learned English and German while in prison.
His knowledge of German came in handy. When the Norwegian Missionary Society rejected him, he turned to the Gossner Mission Society in Germany. This Baptist mission gave Lars the training he needed. From 1861 when he left prison until he left for India in 1863, Lars fasted almost constantly, eating only bread, cheese and water. He was determined to bring his body into submission. During those two years, he attended church services daily.
The Gossner Mission allowed Lars to go to India; he worked his way there at his own expense. There he worked among the Santal people who lived north of Calcutta. Anna joined him on the mission field and they married.
A war between Denmark and Germany left bad feelings. When the Gossner leaders refused to allow Lars to work with his friend Hans Peter Boerreson, a Dane, Lars withdrew from the mission.
Lars and Hans joined another Baptist Mission Society. Soon they left it, too, and formed the Santal Mission. To get the funding they needed from Norway, they had to return to their Lutheran roots. They had abandoned infant baptism but now went back to the practice. The one blot on their record was the misleading information they issued to friends back home on this subject, trying to make it appear they had not really adopted Baptist practice earlier.
In spite of this episode, their work prospered. By 1890, Santal mission had 6,000 baptized church members. The Santal tribe suffered from oppression by their Hindu neighbors. Lars not only labored to obtain British protection for them, but preserved their language by reducing it to written form.
He translated the Bible into the Santal tongue and produced a hymnal using native tunes. He wrote textbooks and even collected traditional Santal myths into a book. The schools that he founded taught farming, animal care, carpentry and other useful skills. Determined to make the Santalese self-sufficient in agriculture, he also wanted to give them a church they could run themselves. “It is the heathenism we want to get rid of, not the national character.” He made as few changes in Santal culture as he could consistent with Christianity. When Lars died on this day, December 11, 1910, there were between 15,000 and 20,000 Santal Christians.
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