The Swan-song of Gustavus Adolphus

Be not dismayed, thou little flock,

Although the foe’s fierce battle shock

Loud on all sides assail thee.

Though o’er thy fall they laugh secure,

Their triumph cannot long endure,

Let not thy courage fail thee.

Thy cause is God’s—go at His call,

And to His hand commit thine all;

Fear thou no ill impending;

His Gideon shall arise for thee,

God’s Word and people manfully

In God’s own time defending.

Our hope is sure in Jesus’ might;

Against themselves the godless fight,

Themselves, not us, distressing;

Shame and contempt their lot shall be;

God is with us, with Him are we;

To us belongs His blessing.

Johann Michael Altenberg, 1631

A Hymn Made Famous on a Battle Field

“Be not dismayed, thou little flock” will always be known as the “swan-song” of the Swedish hero king, Gustavus Adolphus.

No incident in modern history is more dramatic than the sudden appearance in Germany of Gustavus Adolphus and his little Swedish army during the critical days of the Thirty Years’ War. It was this victorious crusade that saved Germany, and probably all of northern Europe, for Protestantism.

The untimely death of the Swedish monarch on the battlefield of Lützen, November 6, 1632, while leading his men against Wallenstein’s host, not only gained immortal fame for Gustavus, but will always cause the world to remember the hymn that was sung by his army on that historic day.

When Gustavus Adolphus landed in Germany in 1630 with his small but well-trained army, it seemed that the Protestant cause in Europe was lost. All the Protestant princes of Germany had been defeated by Tilly and Wallenstein, leaders of the Imperial armies, and the victors were preparing to crush every vestige of Lutheranism in Germany.

The Margrave of Brandenburg and the Duke of Saxony, however, furnished a few troops to Gustavus, and in a swift, meteoric campaign the Swedish king had routed the army of the Catholic League and had marched all the way across Germany. In the spring of 1632 Gustavus moved into the heart of Bavaria and captured Munich.

The Imperial forces who had sneered at the “Snow King,” as they called him, and who had predicted that he would “melt” as he came southward, were now filled with dismay. The “Snow King” proved to be the “Lion of the North.”

Wallenstein rallied the Catholic forces for a last stand at Lützen, the battle that was to prove the decisive conflict.

On the morning of November 6, 1632, the two armies faced each other in battle array. Dr. Fabricius, chaplain of the Swedish army, had been commanded by Gustavus to lead his troops in worship. The king himself raised the strains of “Be not dismayed, thou little flock,” and led the army in singing the stirring hymn. Then he knelt in fervent prayer.

A heavy fog prevented the Protestant forces from moving forward to the attack, and, while they were waiting for the fog to lift, Gustavus ordered the musicians to play Luther’s hymn, “A mighty Fortress is our God.” The whole army joined with a shout. The king then mounted his charger, and, drawing his sword, rode back and forth in front of the lines, speaking words of encouragement to his men.

As the sun began to break through the fog, Gustavus himself offered a prayer, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, help me today to do battle for the glory of Thy holy name,” and then shouted, “Now forward to the attack in the name of our God!” The army answered, “God with us!” and rushed forward, the king galloping in the lead.

When his aid offered him his coat of mail, Gustavus refused to put it on, declaring, “God is my Protector.”

The battle raged fiercely. For a time the outcome seemed ominous for the Lutherans. At 11 o’clock Gustavus was struck by a bullet and mortally wounded. As he fell from his horse, the word spread quickly throughout the Swedish lines, “The king is wounded!”

It proved to be the turning point in the battle. Instead of losing heart and fleeing, the Swedish troops charged the foe with a fierceness born of sorrow and despair, and before the day was ended another glorious victory had been won. The Protestant cause was saved, but the noble Gustavus had made the supreme sacrifice.

The authorship of his famous “battle-hymn” has been the subject of much dispute. The German poet and hymnologist, Albert Knapp, has called it “a little feather from the eagle wing of Gustavus Adolphus.” Most Swedish authorities, too, unite in naming their hero king as the author. However, the weight of evidence seems to point to Johann Michael Altenberg, a German pastor of Gross Sommern, Thüringen, as the real writer of the hymn. It is said that Altenberg was inspired to write it upon hearing of the great victory gained by Gustavus Adolphus at the battle of Leipzig, September 7, 1631, about a year before the battle of Lützen.

In any event, it is a matter of record that the Swedish king adopted it immediately, and that he sang it as his own “swan-song” just before he died at Lützen. Someone has aptly said, “Whether German or Swede may claim this hymn is a question. They both rightly own it.”

Rinkart’s Hymn of Praise

Now thank we all our God,

With hearts and hands and voices,

Who wondrous things hath done,

In whom His earth rejoices;

Who from our mother’s arms

Hath blessed us on our way

With countless gifts of love,

And still is ours today.

O may this bounteous God

Through all our life be near us,

With ever joyful hearts

And blessed peace to cheer us;

And keep us in His grace,

And guide us when perplexed,

And free us from all ills,

In this world and the next.

All praise and thanks to God

The Father now be given,

The Son, and Him who reigns

With them in highest heaven;

The One eternal God,

Whom earth and heaven adore;

For thus it was, is now,

And shall be evermore!

Martin Rinkart (1586-1649).

THE LUTHERAN TE DEUM

The last of the great Lutheran hymn-writers belonging to the period of the Thirty Years’ War was Martin Rinkart. Except for the time of the Reformation, this period was probably the greatest creative epoch in the history of Lutheran hymnody. But of all the glorious hymns that were written during those stirring years, there is none that equals Rinkart’s famous hymn, “Now thank we all our God.”

The date of this remarkable hymn is obscure. The claim has been made that it was written as a hymn of thanksgiving following the Peace of Westphalia, which in 1648 brought to an end the long and cruel war. This claim has been based on the fact that the first two stanzas are a paraphrase of the words of the high priest Simeon, recorded in the Apocryphal book Ecclesiasticus 50:29-32: “And now let all praise God, who hath done great things, who hath glorified our days, and dealeth with us according to His loving-kindness. He giveth us the joy of our hearts, that we may find peace in Israel as in the days of yore, thus He lets His loving-kindness remain with us, and He will redeem us in our day.” Inasmuch as this was the Scripture passage on which all regimental chaplains were ordered to preach in celebration of the conclusion of peace, it has been inferred that Rinkart was inspired to write his hymn at that time.

It is probable, however, that these circumstances were merely a coincidence, and that the hymn was written several years previous to 1648. In Rinkart’s own volume, “Jesu Hertz-Buchlein,” it appears under the title “Tisch-Gebetlein,” or a short prayer before meals, and many believe that it was originally written for Rinkart’s children. It will be noticed that, while the first two stanzas are based on the passage from Ecclesiasticus, the last stanza is the ancient doxology, Gloria Patri.

No hymn except Luther’s famous “A mighty Fortress is our God” has been used more generally in the Lutheran Church than Rinkart’s glorious paean of praise. In Germany, where it has become the national Te Deum, it is sung at all impressive occasions. After the battle of Leuthen, the army of Frederick the Great raised the strains of this noble hymn, and it is said that even the mortally wounded joined in the singing.

In his history of the Franco-Prussian War, Cassel tells of a stirring incident that took place on the day following the battle of Sedan, where the Germans had won a decisive victory over the French. A multitude of Prussian troops who were marching toward Paris were billeted in the parish church of Augecourt. They could not sleep because of the extreme excitement of the day. Suddenly a strain of music came from the organ, first very softly but gradually swelling in volume until the whole sanctuary shook. It was the grand old hymn—“Nun danket alle Gott!” Instantly men and officers were upon their feet, singing the stirring words. Then followed Luther’s “Ein feste Burg,” after which the terrible strain seemed relieved, and they laid themselves down to peaceful slumber.

It is recorded that the hymn was also sung at the opening of the magnificent Cathedral of Cologne, August 14, 1880, as well as at the laying of the cornerstone of the Parliament building in Berlin, June 9, 1884. It has also achieved great popularity in England, where it was sung as a Te Deum in nearly all churches and chapels at the close of the Boer War in 1902.

Rinkart’s life was a tragic one. The greater part of his public service was rendered during the horrors of the Thirty Years’ War. He was born at Eilenburg, Saxony, April 23, 1586. After attending a Latin school in his home town, he became a student at the University of Leipzig.

In 1617, by invitation of the town council of Eilenburg, he became pastor of the church in the city of his birth. It was at the beginning of the Thirty Years’ War, and, because Eilenburg was a walled city, it became a refuge for thousands who had lost everything in the conflict. Famine and pestilence added to the horror of the situation, and the other two pastors of the city having died, Rinkart was left alone to minister to the spiritual needs of the populace.

Twice Eilenburg was saved from the Swedish army through the intercession of Rinkart, first in 1637 and again in 1639. A levy of 30,000 thaler had been made on the city by the Swedish general to aid the Protestant cause. Knowing the impoverished condition of his townsmen, Rinkart went out to the Swedish camp to plead their cause, but to no avail. Turning to those who were with him, Rinkart exclaimed, “Come, my children, we can find no mercy with men, let us take refuge with God.” He then fell on his knees and uttered a fervent prayer, after which they sang the hymn of Paul Eber so much used in those trying days, “When in the hour of utmost need.” The scene made such an impression on the Swedish commander that he relented and reduced his demand to 2,000 florins or 1,350 thaler.

Rinkart lived only a year after the close of the bloody war. He died, a worn and broken man, in 1649.

A Joyous Christmas Carol

All my heart this night rejoices,

As I hear,

Far and near,

Sweetest angel voices:

“Christ is born,” their choirs are singing,

Till the air

Everywhere

Now with joy is ringing.

Come and banish all your sadness,

One and all,

Great and small,

Come with songs of gladness;

Love Him who with love is yearning;

Hail the star

That from far

Bright with hope is burning.

Hither come, ye heavy-hearted,

Who for sin,

Deep within,

Long and sore have smarted;

For the poisoned wounds you’re feeling

Help is near,

One is here

Mighty for their healing.

Faithfully Thee, Lord, I’ll cherish,

Live to Thee,

And with Thee

Dying, shall not perish,

But shall dwell with Thee forever,

Far on high,

In the joy

That can alter never.

Paul Gerhardt, 1656.

PAUL GERHARDT, PRINCE OF LUTHERAN HYMNISTS

The greatest Lutheran hymnist of the seventeenth century, and perhaps of all time, was Paul Gerhardt.

Not even the hymns of Martin Luther are used so generally throughout the Christian world as those of Gerhardt. More of the beautiful lyrics of this sweet singer have found their way into the English language than the hymns of any other German writer, and with the passing of years their popularity increases rather than diminishes.

In the Lutheran church at Lübden, in Germany, there hangs a life-size painting of Gerhardt. Beneath it is this inscription: Theologus in cribro Satanae versatus, “A divine sifted in Satan’s sieve.” That inscription may be said to epitomize the sad life-story of Germany’s great psalmist.

Gerhardt was born March 12, 1607, in Gräfenhaynichen, a village near the celebrated Wittenberg. His father, who was mayor of the village, died before Paul reached maturity. When he was twenty-one years of age he began the study of theology at the University of Wittenberg. The Thirty Years’ War was raging, and all Germany was desolate and suffering. Because of the difficulty of securing a parish, Gerhardt served for several years as a tutor in the home of Andreas Barthold, whose daughter Anna Maria became his bride in 1655.

It was during this period that Gerhardt’s poetic gifts began to flourish. No doubt he was greatly stimulated by contact with the famous musician Johann Crüger, who was cantor and director of music in the Church of St. Nicholas in Berlin. In 1648 many of Gerhardt’s hymns were published in Crüger’s Praxis Pietatis Melica.

Through the recommendation of the Berlin clergy, he was appointed Lutheran provost at Mittenwalde, and was ordained to this post November 18, 1651. Six years later he accepted the position of third assistant pastor of the Church of St. Nicholas in Berlin. His hymns continued to grow in popularity, and his fame as a preacher drew large audiences to hear him.

The controversy between the Lutherans and Calvinists, which had continued from the days of the Reformation, flared up again at this time as the result of efforts on the part of Elector Friedrich Wilhelm of Prussia to unite the two parties. Friedrich Wilhelm, who was a Calvinist, sought to compel the clergy to sign a document promising that they would abstain from any references in their sermons to doctrinal differences. Gerhardt was sick at the time, and, although he had always been moderate in his utterances, he felt that to sign such a document would be to compromise the faith. Summoning the other Lutheran clergymen of Berlin to his bedside, he urged them to stand firm and to refuse to surrender to the demands of the Elector.

Soon after this the courageous pastor was deposed from office. He was also prohibited from holding private services in his own home. Though he felt the blow very keenly, he met it with true Christian fortitude.

“This,” he said, “is only a small Berlin affliction; but I am also willing and ready to seal with my blood the evangelical truth, and, like my namesake, St. Paul, to offer my neck to the sword.”

To add to his sorrows, Gerhardt’s wife and a son died in the midst of these troubles. Three other children had died previous to this, and now the sorely tried pastor was left with a single child, a boy of six years. In May, 1669, he was called to the church at Lübden, where he labored faithfully and with great success until his death, on June 7, 1676.

The glorious spirit that dwelt in him, and which neither trials nor persecutions could quench, is reflected in the lines of his famous hymn, “If God Himself be for me,” based on the latter part of the eighth chapter of Romans:

Though earth be rent asunder,

Thou’rt mine eternally;

Not fire, nor sword, nor thunder,

Shall sever me from Thee;

Not hunger, thirst, nor danger,

Not pain nor poverty,

Nor mighty princes’ anger,

Shall ever hinder me.

Catherine Winkworth, who has translated the same hymn in a different meter under the title, “Since Jesus is my Friend,” has probably succeeded best in giving expression to the triumphant faith and the note of transcendent hope and joy in the final stanza:

My heart for gladness springs;

It cannot more be sad;

For very joy it smiles and sings—

Sees naught but sunshine glad.

The Sun that lights mine eyes

Is Christ, the Lord I love;

I sing for joy of that which lies

Stored up for me above.

Because of his own warm, confiding, childlike faith in God, Gerhardt’s hymns have become a source of special comfort to sorrowing and heavy-laden souls. They not only breathe a spirit of tender consolation but of a “joy unspeakable and full of glory.” We have a beautiful example of this in his Advent hymn, “O how shall I receive Thee”:

Rejoice then, ye sad-hearted,

Who sit in deepest gloom,

Who mourn o’er joys departed,

And tremble at your doom;

He who alone can cheer you

Is standing at the door;

He brings His pity near you,

And bids you weep no more.

In Gerhardt’s hymns we find a transition to the modern subjective note in hymnody. Sixteen of his hymns begin with the pronoun, “I.” They are not characterized, however, by the weak sentimentality so often found in the hymns of our own day, for Gerhardt never lost sight of the greatest objective truth revealed to men—justification by faith alone. Nevertheless, because of his constant emphasis on the love of God and because his hymns are truly “songs of the heart,” they possess a degree of emotional warmth that is lacking in the earlier Lutheran hymns.

His hymns on the glories of nature have never been surpassed. In contemplating the beauty of created things he is ever praising the Creator. His famous evening hymn, “Nun ruhen alle Wälder,” has been likened to the beauty and splendor of the evening star. In a marvelous manner the temporal and the eternal, the terrestrial and the celestial are contrasted in every stanza. It was a favorite hymn of the great German poet, Friedrich von Schiller, who first heard it sung by his mother as a cradle song. Probably no hymn is so generally used by the children of Germany as an evening prayer as this one. The most familiar English translation begins with the line, “Now rest beneath night’s shadow.” A more recent translation of rare beauty runs:

The restless day now closeth,

Each flower and tree reposeth,

Shade creeps o’er wild and wood:

Let us, as night is falling,

On God our Maker calling,

Give thanks to Him, the Giver good.

The tune to which this hymn is sung is as famous as the hymn itself. It is ascribed to Heinrich Isaak, one of the first of the great German church musicians. It is believed to have been composed by him in 1490, when he was leaving his native town, Innsbruck, to establish himself at the court of Emperor Maximilian I. It was set to the plaintive words, “Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen.” According to tradition, Isaak first heard the beautiful melody sung by a wandering minstrel. Bach and Mozart regarded it as one of the sublimest of all chorales, and each is said to have declared that he would rather have been the composer of this tune than any of his great masterpieces.

Gerhardt wrote 123 hymns in all. In addition to the hymns already mentioned, probably his most famous is “O sacred Head, now wounded,” based on the Latin hymn of Bernard of Clairvaux. Other hymns in common use are “Immanuel, we sing Thy praise,” “Holy Ghost, dispel our sadness,” “O enter, Lord, Thy temple,” “Shun, my heart, the thought forever,” “Commit thou all thy griefs,” “All my heart this night rejoices,” “Beside Thy manger here I stand,” “Awake, my heart, and marvel,” “Go forth, my heart, and seek delight,” “O Saviour dear,” and “A pilgrim and a stranger.”

Only the briefest mention can be made of other German Lutheran hymn-writers of this period. One of these, Johan Rist, pastor in Wedel, was crowned poet laureate of Germany by Emperor Ferdinand III in 1644, and nine years later was raised to the nobility. Rist wrote some 680 hymns, but all are not of uniform excellence. Among those in common use to-day are “Arise, the kingdom is at hand,” “Help us, O Lord, behold we enter,” “Rise, O Salem, rise and shine,” “O Living Bread from heaven,” “O Jesus Christ, Thou Bread of Life,” “Father, merciful and holy,” which has also been translated “Soul of mine, to God awaking,” “O darkest woe,” and “Arise, arise ye Christians.”

Georg Neumark, court poet and secretary of archives under Duke Wilhelm II of Saxe-Weimar, has left us the hymn of trust in God: “Let, O my soul, thy God direct thee,” which is also known by the English translation, “If thou but suffer God to guide thee.” The hymn was written in 1641, at Kiel, when, after being robbed of practically all he possessed except his prayer-book, Neumark succeeded in obtaining employment as tutor in a wealthy family. He was a destitute student at the time.

Michael Schirmer, an educator and poet who lived in Berlin during the Thirty Years’ War and for two decades after its close, is the author of a number of beautiful hymns, among them the Pentecost hymn, “O Holy Spirit, enter in.” Because of poverty and afflictions suffered during a period of war and pestilence, he has been called “the German Job.”

Ahasuerus Fritsch, chancellor and president of the Consistory of Rudolstadt, is credited with the authorship of “Jesus is my Joy, my All,” a hymn that reflects the spirit of true evangelical piety. He died in 1701.

Caspar Neumann, another of Gerhardt’s contemporaries, has bequeathed to the Church the sublime hymn, “God of Ages, all transcending,” the last stanza of which is unusually striking in language:

Say Amen, O God our Father,

To the praise we offer Thee;

Now, to laud Thy name we gather;

Let this to Thy glory be.

Fill us with Thy love and grace,

Till we see Thee face to face.

Neumann, who was a celebrated preacher and professor of theology at Breslau from 1678 to 1715, was the author of some thirty hymns, all of which became very popular in Silesia. He was also author of a famous devotional book, “Kern aller Gebete.”

A Glorious Paean of Praise

Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation!

O my soul, praise Him, for He is thy health and salvation!

All ye who hear,

Now to His temple draw near,

Join me in glad adoration.

Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy work and defend thee!

Surely His goodness and mercy here daily attend thee;

Ponder anew

What the Almighty can do,

If with His love He befriend thee!

Praise thou the Lord, who with marvelous wisdom hath made thee,

Decked thee with health, and with loving hand guided and stayed thee.

How oft in grief

Hath not He brought thee relief,

Spreading His wings to o’ershade thee!

Praise to the Lord! O let all that is in me adore Him!

All that hath life and breath, come now with praises before Him!

Let the Amen

Sound from His people again;

Gladly for aye we adore Him.

Joachim Neander, 1680.

JOACHIM NEANDER, THE PAUL GERHARDT OF THE CALVINISTS

While all Germany during the latter half of the seventeenth century was singing the sublime lyrics of Paul Gerhardt, prince of Lutheran hymnists, the spirit of hymnody was beginning to stir in the soul of another German poet—Joachim Neander. This man, whose name will always be remembered as the author of one of the most glorious hymns of praise of the Christian Church, was the first hymn-writer produced by the Reformed, or Calvinistic, branch of the Protestant Church.

Hymnody in the Reformed Church had been seriously retarded by the iconoclastic views of Calvin and Zwingli. These Reformers at first frowned on church choirs, organs, and every form of ecclesiastical art. Even hymns, such as those used by the Lutherans, were prohibited because they were the production of men. God could be worshiped in a worthy manner, according to Calvin’s principles, only by hymns which were divinely inspired, namely, the Psalms of the Old Testament Psaltery.

This gave rise to the practice of versifying the Psalms. Calvin’s insistence that there should be the strictest adherence to the original text often resulted in crude paraphrases. The exclusive use of the Psalms explains the development of so-called “psalmody” in the Reformed Church as over against “hymnody” in the Lutheran Church.

Psalmody had its inception in France, where Clement Marot, court poet to King Francis I, rendered a number of the Psalms into metrical form. Marot was a gifted and versatile genius, but not inclined to piety or serious-mindedness. However, his versified Psalms became immensely popular with the French Huguenots and exerted a great influence in the struggle between the Protestants and the papal party. When Marot was compelled to flee to Geneva because of Roman persecution, he collaborated with Calvin in publishing the famous Genevan Psalter, which appeared in 1543.

Following the death of Marot in 1544, Calvin engaged Theodore de Beza to continue the work, and in 1562 the Genevan Psalter was published in completed form, containing all the Psalms in versified dress. The musical editor during the greater part of this period was Louis Bourgeois, to whom is generally ascribed the undying honor of being the composer of probably the most famous of all Christian hymn tunes, “Old Hundredth.”

The Genevan Psalter was translated into many languages, and became the accepted hymn-book of the Reformed Church in Germany, England, Scotland, and Holland, as well as in France. In Germany the most popular version was a translation by Ambrosius Lobwasser, a professor of law at Königsberg, who, oddly enough, was a Lutheran.

For more than 150 years Lutheran hymn-writers had been pouring out a mighty stream of inspired song, but the voice of hymnody was stifled in the Reformed Church. Then came Joachim Neander. His life was short—he died at the age of thirty—and many of his hymns seem to have been written in the last few months before his death; but the influence he exerted on the subsequent hymnody of his Church earned for him the title, “the Gerhardt of the Reformed Church.”

Neander’s hymns are preeminently hymns of praise. Their jubilant tone and smooth rhythmical flow are at once an invitation to sing them. They speedily found their way into Lutheran hymn-books in Germany, and from thence to the entire Protestant world. Neander’s most famous hymn, “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty,” with its splendid chorale melody, grows in popularity with the passing of years, and promises to live on as one of the greatest Te Deums of the Christian Church.

Joachim Neander was born in Bremen, Germany, in 1650. He came from a distinguished line of clergymen, his father, grandfather, great grandfather and great great grandfather having been pastors, and all of them bearing the name Joachim Neander.

Young Joachim entered the Academic Gymnasium of Bremen at the age of sixteen years. It seems that he led a careless and profligate life, joining in the sins and follies that characterized student life in his age.

In the year 1670, when Neander was twenty years old, he chanced to attend services in St. Martin’s church, Bremen, where Theodore Under-Eyck had recently come as pastor. Two other students accompanied Neander, their main purpose being to criticize and scoff at the sermon. However, they had not reckoned with the Spirit of God. The burning words of Under-Eyck made a powerful impression on the mind and heart of the youthful Neander, and he who went to scoff came away to pray.

It proved the turning point in the spiritual life of the young student. Under the guidance of Under-Eyck he was led to embrace Christ as his Saviour, and from that time he and Under-Eyck were life-long friends.

The following year Neander became tutor to five young students, accompanying them to the University of Heidelberg. Three years later he became rector of the Latin school at Düsseldorf. This institution was under the supervision of a Reformed pastor, Sylvester Lürsen, an able man, but of contentious spirit. At first the two men worked together harmoniously, Neander assisting with pastoral duties, and preaching occasionally, although he was not ordained as a clergyman. Later, however, he fell under the influence of a group of separatists, and began to imitate their practices. He refused to receive the Lord’s Supper on the grounds that he could not partake of it with the unconverted. He induced others to follow his example. He also became less regular in his attendance at regular worship, and began to conduct prayer meetings and services of his own.

In 1676 the church council of Düsseldorf investigated his conduct and dismissed him from his office. Fourteen days after this action was taken, however, Neander signed a declaration in which he promised to abide by the rules of the church and school, whereupon he was reinstated.

There is a legend to the effect that, during the period of his suspension from service, he spent most of his time living in a cave in the beautiful Neanderthal, near Mettmann, on the Rhine, and that he wrote some of his hymns at this place. It is a well-established fact that Neander’s great love for nature frequently led him to this place, and a cavern in the picturesque glen still bears the name of “Neander’s Cave.” One of the hymns which tradition declares was written in this cave bears the title “Unbegreiflich Gut, Wahrer Gott alleine.” It is a hymn of transcendent beauty. One of the stanzas reads:

Thee all the mountains praise;

The rocks and glens are full of songs of Thee!

They bid me join my lays,

And laud the mighty Rock, who, safe from every shock,

Beneath Thy shadow here doth shelter me.

Many of Neander’s hymns are odes to nature, but there is always a note of praise to nature’s God. Witness, for instance:

Heaven and earth, and sea and air,

All their Maker’s praise declare;

Wake, my soul, awake and sing,

Now thy grateful praises bring!

“Here behold me, as I cast me,” a penitential hymn by Neander, has found favor throughout all Christendom.

In 1679 Neander’s spiritual friend, Pastor Under-Eyck, invited him to come to Bremen and become his assistant in St. Martin’s church. Although his salary was only 40 thalers a year and a free house, Neander joyfully accepted the appointment. The following year, however, he became sick, and after a lingering illness passed away May 31, 1680, at the age of only thirty years.

During his illness he experienced severe spiritual struggles, but he found comfort in the words, “It is better to hope unto death than to die in unbelief.” On the day of his death he requested that Hebrews 7:9 be read to him. When asked how he felt, he replied: “The Lord has settled my account. Lord Jesus, make also me ready.” A little later he said in a whisper: “It is well with me. The mountains shall be moved, and the hills shall tremble, yet the grace of God shall not depart from me, and His covenant of peace shall not be moved.”

A Hymn Classic by Scheffler

Thee will I love, my Strength, my Tower,

Thee will I love, my Joy, my Crown;

Thee will I love with all my power,

In all Thy works, and Thee alone;

Thee will I love, till Thy pure fire

Fill all my soul with chaste desire.

I thank Thee, uncreated Sun,

That Thy bright beams on me have shined;

I thank Thee, who hast overthrown

My foes, and healed my wounded mind;

I thank Thee, whose enlivening voice

Bids my freed heart in Thee rejoice.

Uphold me in the doubtful race,

Nor suffer me again to stray;

Strengthen my feet with steady pace

Still to press forward in Thy way;

That all my powers, with all their might,

In Thy sole glory may unite.

Thee will I love, my Joy, my Crown;

Thee will I love, my Lord, my God;

Thee love beneath Thy smile or frown,

Beneath Thy scepter or Thy rod.

What though my flesh and heart decay?

Thee shall I love in endless day.

Johann Scheffler, 1657.

A ROMAN MYSTIC AND HYMN-WRITER

In Johann Scheffler we have the singular example of a man who forsook the Lutheran Church to become a Romanist, but whose hymns have been adopted and sung by the very Church he sought to oppose and confound.

Scheffler was a contemporary of Gerhardt and Neander. He was born in Breslau, Silesia, in 1624. His father, Stanislaus Scheffler, was a Polish nobleman who had been compelled to leave his native land because of his Lutheran convictions. Young Scheffler became a medical student at Strassburg, Leyden, and Padua, returning to Oels, Silesia, in 1649 to become the private physician to Duke Sylvius Nimrod of Württemberg-Oels.

During his sojourn in foreign lands he had come in contact with the writings of various mystics and he began to lean strongly toward their teachings. At Oels he began to flaunt his separatist views by absenting himself from public worship and the Lord’s Supper. When the Lutheran authorities refused to permit the publication of some poems he had written, because of their strong mystical tendencies, Scheffler resigned his office and betook himself to Breslau, where he joined himself to a group of Jesuits. Here he pursued the study of the medieval mystics of the Roman Catholic Church, and in 1653 was confirmed as a member of that communion. At this time he took the name of Angelus Silesius, probably after a Spanish mystic named John ab Angelis.

In 1661 he was ordained a priest of the Roman Church. He became a prolific writer and took special delight in directing bitter polemics against the Church of his childhood. Of these writings, it has been well said: “He certainly became more Roman than the Romans; and in his more than fifty controversial tractates, shows little of the sweetness and repose for which some have thought he left the Lutheran Church.”

Scheffler, however, was a poet of the first rank. His poems, always tinged by the spirit of mysticism, sometimes attain to sublime heights, and again they descend to a coarse realism, particularly when he describes the terrors of judgment and hell.

His hymns, on the other hand, are almost uniformly of a high order. They are marked by a fervent love for Christ the heavenly Bridegroom, although the imagery, largely based on the Song of Solomon, is sometimes overdrawn, almost approaching the sensual. Few of his hymns reveal his Catholic tendencies, and therefore they were gladly received by the Protestants. Indeed, they came into more general use among the Lutherans than among the Catholics. They were greatly admired by Count von Zinzendorf, who included no less than 79 of them in his Moravian collection.

The mysticism of Scheffler often brought him dangerously near the border-line of pantheism. Vaughn, in his “Hours with the Mystics,” compares Scheffler with Emerson, and declares that both resemble the Persian Sufis. Something of Scheffler’s pantheistic ideas may be seen in the following lines:

God in my nature is involved,

As I in the divine;

I help to make His being up,

As much as He does mine.

And again in this:

I am as rich as God; no grain of dust

That is not mine, too: share with me He must.

Duffield, commenting on these astonishing lines, observes, “We need not wonder that this high-flown self-assumption carried him to the door of a Jesuit convent. It is in the very key of much that passes with Romanist theology for heavenly rapture and delight in God.”

The pantheistic views of Scheffler may be discerned even in his dying prayer: “Jesus and Christ, God and man, bridegroom and brother, peace and joy, sweetness and delight, refuge and redemption, heaven and earth, eternity and time, love and all, receive my soul.”

However, we must agree with Albert Knapp in his judgment of Scheffler’s beautiful hymns, that “whencesoever they may come, they are an unfading ornament of the Church of Jesus Christ.” The gem among them is “Thee will I love, my Strength, my Tower.” Others that have come into general use are “Earth has nothing sweet or fair,” “Thy soul, O Jesus, hallow me,” “Come, follow me, the Saviour spake,” “Jesus, Saviour, come to me,” “Thou holiest Love, whom most I love,” and “Loving Shepherd, kind and true.”

A Gem among Pietistic Hymns

O Jesus, Source of calm repose,

Thy like no man nor angel knows,

Fairest among ten thousand fair!

E’en those whom death’s sad fetters bound,

Whom thickest darkness compassed round,

Find light and life, if Thou appear.

Renew Thine image, Lord, in me,

Lowly and gentle may I be;

No charms but these to Thee are dear;

No anger may’st Thou ever find,

No pride, in my unruffled mind,

But faith, and heaven-born peace, be there.

A patient, a victorious mind,

That life and all things casts behind,

Springs forth obedient to Thy call,

A heart that no desire can move,

But still to praise, believe, and love,

Give me, my Lord, my Life, my All!

Johann Anastasius Freylinghausen, 1704.

HYMN-WRITERS OF THE PIETIST SCHOOL

Spiritual revivals in the Christian Church have always been accompanied by an outburst of song. This was true of the Reformation, which witnessed the birth of the Lutheran Church, and it was also characteristic of the Pietistic movement, which infused new life and fervor into that communion. The Pietistic revival, which in many respects was similar to the Puritan and Wesleyan movements in England, had its inception in Germany in the latter part of the 17th century and continued during the first half of the 18th century. It quickly spread to other Lutheran countries, particularly Scandinavia, and its influence has been felt even to the present time.

The leader of the movement was Philipp Jacob Spener, pastor of St. Nicolai Church, in Berlin. Spener, although a loyal and zealous son of the Lutheran Church, was not blind to the formalism and dead orthodoxy which had overtaken it following the Thirty Years’ War and which threatened to dry up the streams of spiritual life. To stimulate spiritual endeavor and personal piety, Spener and his followers organized Bible study groups. They also encouraged private assemblies for mutual edification. These were known as collegia pietatis, which gave rise to the name, “Pietists.”

August Hermann Francke, the foremost disciple of Spener, succeeded the latter as leader of the movement. The University of Halle, where Francke was called as professor in 1691, became the center of Pietism. Here Francke laid the foundations for the remarkable philanthropic and educational institutions that made his name known throughout the Christian world. It began in 1695 when the great-hearted man opened a room in his own house for the instruction of poor children. Within a few years he had established his great orphanage, a high school, and a home for destitute students. The orphans’ home was erected on a site where there had been a beer and dancing garden.

When Francke began he had no money, nor did he receive any support from the state, but as the marvelous work progressed funds poured in from all quarters. In the year of his death, 1727, more than 2,000 children were receiving care and instruction from 170 teachers. Altogether, some 6,000 graduates of theology left Halle during Francke’s career, “men imbued with his spirit, good exegetes, and devoted pastors, who spread their doctrines all over Germany, and in the early decades of the 18th century occupied a majority of the pulpits.”

Halle also became the cradle of the modern missionary movement. From this place, in 1705, Bartholomew Ziegenbalg and Henry Plütschau, were sent forth as the first missionaries to India, nearly a century before William Carey left England for the same field. At Halle the youthful Count von Zinzendorf became a pupil under Francke and received the inspiration that in later years led to the establishment of the far-reaching missions of the Moravians. To Halle the founder of Methodism, John Wesley, came in 1738, shortly after his conversion in London, in order to become more familiar with the teachings of Luther and the Pietists.

The secret of the marvelous success of Francke’s efforts may be read in the simple inscription on the monument erected to his memory in front of the famous orphanage at Halle. It reads: “He trusted in God.”

Neither Francke nor Spener were hymn-writers of note, although each composed a few songs. The Pietist movement, however, gave birth to a great revival in hymnody in Germany, both in Lutheran and Reformed circles. At Halle it was Johann Anastasius Freylinghausen who not only became the representative hymnist of the Pietists, but also succeeded Francke as head of the great Halle institutions.

Freylinghausen was a student at the University of Jena when he first heard the preaching of Francke. Shortly afterward he followed him to Halle, and in 1695 became Francke’s colleague. He preached at vesper services, conducted midweek meetings, taught classes in the orphanage school, and delivered lectures on homiletics. He served without salary for ten years, since Francke was obliged to use all his income for the support of his institutions of mercy. In 1715 Freylinghausen married Francke’s only daughter. At her baptism as an infant he had been her sponsor, and she had received his name, Johanna Anastasia. It was after Francke’s death in 1727 that the Halle institutions reached their highest development under the direction of Freylinghausen. When the latter died in 1739, he was buried beside his beloved friend.

Freylinghausen’s “Geistreiches Gesangbuch” became the standard hymn-book of the Pietistic movement. The first edition appeared in 1704 and contained 683 hymns. A second hymn-book was published in 1714, containing 815 additional hymns. The two collections were combined in 1741 by G. A. Francke and published as one hymn-book, containing 1,582 hymns and 600 tunes. Freylinghausen was the author of forty-four of these hymns, and is also said to have composed some of the melodies.

The hymns of Freylinghausen are the most worthy of all those produced by the Pietistic school. They are marked by genuine piety, depth of feeling, rich Christian experience, and faithfulness in Scriptural expression. The tunes employed, however, were often a distinct departure from the traditional Lutheran chorales, and were not always suited to congregational worship. Freylinghausen’s most famous hymn, “O Jesus, Source of calm repose,” was greatly admired by John Wesley, who translated it into English in 1737. The so-called “Jesus hymns,” which reached their greatest development among the Pietists, find their sweetest expression in Freylinghausen’s:

Who is there like Thee,

Jesus, unto me?

None is like Thee, none above Thee,

Thou art altogether lovely;

None on earth have we,

None in heaven like Thee.

It is not strange that from Halle, from whence such mighty missionary influences flowed, should also go forth the first Protestant missionary hymn. It was in 1750 that Karl Heinrich von Bogatzky, while working among the orphans of the Franckean institutions, wrote his famous hymn, “Awake, thou Spirit, who didst fire.”

Bogatzky, who came from a noble Hungarian family, was disowned by his father when he chose to enroll as a theological student at Halle rather than to prepare for a career as an army officer. His health failed him, however, and he was unable to enter the ministry. For many years he devoted himself to hymn-writing and devotional literature. He also traveled as a lay preacher. Because of his noble birth he was able to exert a considerable influence in the higher circles of German society. From 1746 to his death in 1774, he lived at the Halle orphanage. He was the author of some 411 hymns, but few of them possess the poetic and spiritual fire of his missionary hymn. Two of its glorious stanzas read:

Awake, Thou Spirit, who didst fire

The watchmen of the Church’s youth,

Who faced the foe’s envenomed ire,

Who day and night declared Thy truth,

Whose voices loud are ringing still,

And bringing hosts to know Thy will.

O haste to help, ere we are lost!

Send preachers forth, in spirit strong,

Armed with Thy Word, a dauntless host,

Bold to attack the rule of wrong;

Let them the earth for Thee reclaim,

Thy heritage, to know Thy Name.

Johann Jacob Rambach was another important hymn-writer of this period. The son of a cabinet maker of Halle, young Rambach attended the free school established by Francke and came under the direct influence of the great Pietist leader.

Like many a youth, however, he felt that his education was complete at the age of thirteen years, at which time he left school to work in his father’s shop. The Lord, on the other hand, seems to have had other plans for the lad, and it was not long before young Rambach suffered a dislocated ankle. Confined to his bed for several weeks, he again turned to his books, and, before he had recovered, the desire to resume his studies took possession of him.

Rambach eventually became one of the outstanding theologians of Halle, as well as preacher at the school church. In 1731 he removed to Giessen to become superintendent and first professor of theology. Here he found conditions vastly different from those at Halle. He was particularly grieved over the fact that his preaching did not seem to bear fruit. Often his efforts to bring about healthier spiritual conditions met with opposition and scoffing on the part of his adversaries. He died in 1735 at the early age of forty-two years—from intense sorrow over the spiritual indifference of his flock, so it has been said.

Rambach wrote many splendid hymns, among them the confirmation hymn, “Baptized into Thy Name most holy.” His fame rests principally on his work as a hymnologist, however. During his life-time he published a number of collections from all sources. These hymns were chosen with fine discrimination, and Rambach was the first hymn editor to make a distinction between hymns for congregational worship and those particularly suited for private devotion.

The beautiful Advent hymn, “Rejoice, all ye believers,” as well as the Epiphany hymn, “O Saviour of our race,” also date from the Pietistic period. Both hymns apparently were written in 1700 by Laurentius Laurentii, cantor and director of music in the Lutheran cathedral at Bremen. Laurentii was not only a splendid musician, but also a hymn-writer of high order, and no less than thirty-four of his hymns were included in the Freylinghausen collections.

Other hymnists of the Pietistic school include Christian Scriver, writer of the famous devotional book, “Seelenschatz;” Gottfried Arnold, a noted church historian; Ernst Gottlieb Woltersdorf, founder of an orphanage at Bunzlau, and Christian Richter, a pious physician and an associate of Francke. Few of their hymns, however, are in common use today.