One of the pastors at church is a former theology professor at a local university, and has graciously begun a series of Sunday evening courses to educate those from the congregation that wish to attend. The development of this series “happened” to transpire around the same time that I was questioning the role of formal education for lay teachers in the church, and particularly conscious of my own lack of training. (As it turns out, there’s not much crossover between accounting classes and Bible teaching.) So when these courses were announced, of course I signed up, especially considering the first two comprise an overview of church history.
I’ve found that interest in history tends to be polarized: one either loves history or hates it, and there’s generally not much middle ground. I love it, but I’ll admit that sometimes it’s hard to see a practical use for historical knowledge. The ways in which knowing history changes my daily life can be hard to identify, especially when that knowledge comes with more of a 30,000-foot view. Church history might be the exception, but if you’re not convinced, maybe this episode of 5 Minutes in Church History, a podcast by Dr. Stephen Nichols, will make you think twice. (Seriously, it’s 5 minutes long. You can listen.)
Anyway, we’re about three-quarters of the way through our 24-week overview of church history now, and one of the names recently mentioned caught my attention: Nikolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf. Now of course, that name stands out: three syllables containing two z’s is a bit conspicuous after all; but for some reason my brain connected it with genealogy. A little “research” (ie, a text to my mother) revealed there is good reason for this. Zinzendorf was a wealthy guy in the early 18th century, and even as a young man, just in his mid-20s, he offered physical protection and financial support to Christians fleeing persecution. These refugees included followers of John Hus, Anabaptists, and Schwenkfelders (followers of Kasper Schwenkfeld’s teaching). And here is where it becomes personal: my great-grandmother’s family – that of my mother’s father’s mother – were Schwenkfelders. Thanks to a rich young guy with a weird name, my ancestors were not killed because of their beliefs, immigrated to Philadelphia in 1734, and eventually spread further west; and almost 300 years later, here I am.
A history critic might challenge me by asking how this knowledge changes my daily life, and that’s a valid point. In studying the work of the Holy Spirit and how He worked through other individuals, I’m reminded again that the Lord preserves a remnant of His people (and in this case, how He literally preserved my people). Among other things, this makes me more aware of both how the Lord is using me, and how He is preserving me day by day. Church history: both practical and personal.
It certainly is a small world when you can link a church history class to your very own ancestors! In the class I am being reminded of all the ways God has worked through (and in spite of) so many different people and groups across the centuries. This brings me needed perspective for our world and the Church today. I love your insights in each blog!