preparation for the remarkable work he was called upon to do in South
Carolina and adjoining states. The mountain whites who had been drawn
into the cotton mill work of the South were illiterate and but ill
prepared for their new conditions.
[illustration: "Charles E. Weltner, D.D."]
With the help of his devoted wife, a night school was established.
Additional schools became necessary. The Columbia Board of Education
became interested and supplied the teachers while the mill company
provided for the equipment. Mrs. Weltner helped the girls by creating an
interest in good housekeeping and in beautifying the homes and their
surroundings.
The movement extended to other parts of the state and into adjoining
states, and Dr. Weltner was called upon to explain and direct it. The
blind man had seen a vision. The homeless youth of New York's East Side
became the prophet of a new era who turned many to righteousness. His
eyes now see the King in His beauty.
THEIR PROBLEMS
The Problem of Synods
A synod is an assembly of delegates organized for the purpose of
administering the affairs of the churches they represent.
Fourteen synods are represented in Greater New York. Some are based on
differences of doctrine. A volume published in 1893, entitled
"Distinctive Doctrines and Usages" (See Bibliography), treats of these
differences. Others are due to differences of language and race.
In some countries a hyperchurchly trend of the national or state church
is responsible for dissenting movements which, left to themselves,
finally take the form of separatistic churches. Although these movements
temporarily persist in America there is no permanent need for them in
our atmosphere of freedom. Our church has room for many men of many
minds so long as the essentials of belief are held and respected.
Finns are represented in three synods, Scandinavians in four. These
nations therefore account for one-half of our fourteen synods. The
history of the Missouri Synod is one of struggle, sacrifice and
remarkable growth. For seventy-five years other Lutherans have sought
fellowship with them, but they decline to hold fellowship with churches
that are not in full accord with their doctrinal position.
Each of these divisions has some historical reason for its existence
which cannot be ignored or lightly pushed aside. For various reasons
each synod emphasizes some phase of church life which in its opinion
warrants a separate organization. Perhaps some of the progress of the
last half century may be credited to a wholesome rivalry between these
various schools of Lutheranism.
On the other hand these synodical divisions among churches holding the
same substance of doctrine, even when they do not provoke downright
hostility, are an effective bar to the fraternal alliance so greatly
needed in our polyglot communion. Our neighbors, too, of other
Denominations, when they try to understand our meticulous divisions, are
not unnaturally disposed to look upon us as a conglomerate of sectarian
religionists rather than as a Church or even as a distinct Denomination.
In lists of denominational activities our churches figure as G. C.
Lutherans, G. S. Lutherans, Missouri Lutherans, etc., while all of us
are frequently called upon to explain whether we belong to the
Evangelical branch of the Lutherans or not.
Absorbed as we are in the local interests of our individual
congregations and in the questions that divide us among ourselves, we
seldom have an opportunity to give expression to outstanding principles
of our church in such a way as to impress the public mind with a sense
of their importance.
The question therefore continually recurs, why should these divisions be
perpetuated among brethren who are agreed on the essentials of Lutheran
teaching even though they may not have completely assimilated each
other's minute definitions of theological dogmas. Laymen, more
interested in practical results, find it hard to understand why there
should be so many different kinds of Lutherans. Even ministers,
accustomed as they are to sharp distinctions, sometimes deplore these
divisions and wonder when they can be healed. They long for the time
when the adherents of the Augsburg Confession may unite in one great
body, "beautiful as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army
with banners."
Alluring as such a prospect may seem, it is not of highest importance in
a communion which from the beginning emphasized the right of private
judgment and acquired for the world the right to think for itself in
matters of conscience and religion. The Church of the Reformation
derives its strength from unity rather than from union. Theoretically at
least, it is a communion, a fellowship of believers. Its earliest
designation was not "The Lutheran Church," but "Churches of the Augsburg
Confession."
It is consonant therefore with our historic principles to respect the
gifts and calling of the existing divisions in our churches without
insisting upon an artificial union which could contribute little to the
true unity of the church. There are "many members, yet but one body....
There are differences of administrations, but the same Lord." In our
mutual relations therefore it behooves us to recognize the rights of the
individual.
This, however, need not prevent our working and praying for union. If it
be possible, as much as lieth in us (unless this involves synergistic
heresy), let us cultivate tolerance and live peaceably with all men,
especially with all Lutherans.
We have in this city a great field in which there is work for us all. In
friendly co-operation, rather than in hostile competition, we may escape
some of the perils of our past history and perform with credit the tasks
with which at present we seem to be struggling in vain.
The Metropolitan District includes the urban communities within ten
miles of the boundary line of Greater New York. This territory of a
hundred and fifty square miles now holds a population of over seven
millions of people. Our churches in Greater New York minister to a
baptized membership of 141,642 souls. If we include in our estimates of
parochial responsibility, not merely enrolled members, but the entire
Lutheran population of the District, Russians, Poles, Slovaks,
Bohemians, Hungarians, Letts, Esthonians, Lithuanians, Dutch, Germans,
Swedes, Norwegians, Finns and Danes, to say nothing of the multitudes of
American birth from the Hudson and Mohawk valleys, from Pennsylvania,
Virginia, Ohio and the West, the number of people claiming to be
Lutherans amounts to more than five hundred thousand souls.
To minister as we should to such a constituency, we need co-operation in
place of competition. The work of cultivating effectively such a field
can never be done by churches so hopelessly divided as ours.
Other churches, Protestant and Catholic, with a centralized
ecclesiastical organization, are able to work together as one body and
make plans for their work covering the entire Metropolitan District. We,
with our strong individualism, cannot vie with them. In our polity we
are extreme congregationalists and must pay for our freedom.
But there is much that our churches have in common. Our flocks are not
alienated from each other as much as are the shepherds. The formation of
local groups throughout the greater city, co-operating in common causes,
or at least refraining from a polemical policy, would pave the way for a
better understanding of our mutual needs and opportunities for service.
Three things, at least, might be done without compromising the faith or
violating the spirit of our church life:
1. We might meet for the purpose of forming each other's acquaintance
and for the discussion of practical questions. Perhaps none of us is
quite so heretical as the synodical divergence would lead a layman to
suppose.
2. We might meet for the discussion of vital questions of religion and
morals. It is one thing to read about these things in books. It is quite
another thing to listen to a spoken presentation warm with the sympathy
of a living experience.
3. We might recognize each other's spheres of influence and federate our
forces in meeting the needs of our vast community.
In the meantime we are slowly learning that the aspirations and
convictions that unite us are greater than the things that separate us.
The clearer comprehension of the principles we hold and of the work we
have to do, and the sense of our responsibility as one of the larger
communions of the metropolis, compel us more and more to emphasize not
the unessential details of our theological system but rather the larger
truths and principles for which we stand and which we hold in common.
A hundred years ago, on the tercentenary of the Reformation, after a
period of political humiliation and economic distress in the Fatherland,
the Ninety-five Theses of Claus Harms sounded a call for a Lutheran
awakening throughout the world. The result of that revival is felt in
the churches to this day.
The quadricentenary of the Reformation was celebrated amid the
convulsions of a World War. Is it too much to hope that after this war
also the ground may be prepared for a spiritual sowing and reaping when
the unnecessary dissensions of sectarian controversy will give place to
fraternal co-operation in the service of a common Lord and in the
promotion of a common faith?*
*Since the foregoing paragraphs were written an unexpected change
in the outlook has taken place. Steps were taken a year ago toward
bringing together three of the general bodies of the Church in America.
Should this hope be realized, it will bring into closer union a majority
of the churches of Greater New York.
On May 7th, 1918, at a meeting of nearly one hundred Lutheran
pastors, members of nearly all of the synods represented on this
territory, there was organized a "Conference of the Lutheran pastors of
the Metropolitan District for the discussion of all questions of
doctrine and practice to the end of effecting unity." This, too, is a
harbinger of an approaching era of reconstruction and peace.
The Problem of Language
It was a Lutheran demand in the sixteenth century to preach the Gospel
in the vernacular. It would be un-Lutheran in the twentieth century to
conduct public worship in a language which the people do not understand.
This lesson is written so plainly in the history of our churches in
America that "he may run that readeth." The Swedish churches on the
Delaware, planted by Gustavus Adolphus for the very purpose of
propagating the faith in America, were all of them lost to the Lutheran
church because the persistent use of the Swedish language, and the
inability of the pastors to preach in English, proved an insuperable
obstacle to the bringing up of the children in the Lutheran communion.
When the New York Ministerium at its meeting in Rhinebeck, September
1st, 1797, resolved that it would "never acknowledge a newly-erected
Lutheran Church merely English in places where the members may partake
of the services of the Episcopal Church, it halted for a century the
growth of the Lutheran Church in New York. [Tr. note: no close quotation
marks in original.]
The same experience greets us in London. There the Lutheran Church was
established in 1669, only five years later than in New York. For more
than two centuries it had the recognition of royalty. As late as the
Victorian era Prince Albert, the Queen and the royal family, in their
personal relations, were connected with the Lutheran Church. To this day
Queen Alexandra is a communicant in the Lutheran church. There exist
therefore no social barriers to its growth. Yet not a single English
Lutheran church is to be found in London.
With one exception the dozen Lutheran churches of other tongues
recognize no responsibility to propagate the faith of the Augsburg
Confession in the language of the city in which they live. The exception
is that of the German "Missouri" congregation. Here English as well as
German is used in the services. Here alone it would seem that "religion
is the chief concern."
The language problem confronted us early in our local history. In the
first hundred years three languages, Dutch, German and English,
contended for the mastery. In their pastoral work some ministers used
all three.
Dutch was the first to surrender. The children of Dutch families adopted
the language of their English conquerors, and when immigration from
Holland ceased, the use of Dutch in worship became obsolete. The last
use of Dutch at a Lutheran service was at the communion on the First
Sunday in Advent in 1771. It had maintained itself for 114 years.
After the use of Dutch in worship had ceased, German and English came
into collision. It was a fight to a finish. When it was over there was
little left for which to contend. When Pastor Kunze died, in 1807, the
congregation had declined almost to the point of extinction. Many of the
English-speaking families had left us and we thus lost some of our
leading members, people whose ancestors had for five generations
belonged to our communion. The Germans remained, but during the lull in
the tide of immigration the use of German declined to such an extent as
to imperil the existence even of the German congregation. When Kunze's
successor arrived he had difficulty in finding members of the church who
could speak German. Even in the German congregation English had become
the language of every-day life.
German thrives in German soil. Elsewhere it is an exotic not easily
cultivated. From their earliest history Germans have had the
_Wanderlust_ and have sought for new homes as it pleased them. But
wherever they go they amalgamate with their surroundings.
The Franks settled in Gaul, but, excepting its German name, the language
retains but few indications of the German ancestry of a large part of
the French people.
The Goths settled in Spain. Physical traits, blue eyes and blonde
complexion, persist in some districts, but their descendants speak
Spanish.
The Longobards crossed the Alps and settled in Italy where their
children speak Italian, although Lombardy is just across the mountains,
not far from the early home of their immigrant ancestors.
A notable exception to this tendency of the Germans to amalgamate with
other nations was when the Anglo-Saxons invaded Britain. The island had
been deserted by the Romans, and the Germans refused for centuries to
ally themselves with the British inhabitants. They retained their own
language and customs with but a slight admixture of alien elements.* To
this day after twelve centuries they prefer to call themselves
Anglo-Saxons rather than British. (_Nomen a potiori fit._)
*"Philologically, English, considered with reference to its
original form, Anglo-Saxon, and to the grammatical features which it
retains of Anglo-Saxon origin, is the most conspicuous member of the
Low German group of the Teutonic family, the other Low German languages
being Old Saxon, Old Friesic, Old Low German, and other extinct forms,
and the modern Dutch, Flemish, Friesic, and Low German (Platt Deutsch).
These, with High German, constitute the 'West Germanic' branch, as
Gothic and the Scandinavian tongues constitute the 'East Germanic'
branch, of the Teutonic family. (Century Dictionary under the word
'English.')"
In the ninth and eleventh centuries the island was invaded by other
Germanic tribes, directly by way of the North Sea or indirectly by the
Channel from Normandy, and so the language was developed still further
along English, that is Germanic lines. (According to the Century
Dictionary the historical pronunciation of the word is eng'-glish and
not ing'glish).
Low Germans, (Nether Saxons or Platt Deutsch) who have settled in New
York in such large numbers, enjoy a distinct advantage over other
nationalities. In the vernacular of America they discover simply another
dialect of their native tongue. Hence they acquire the new dialect with
little difficulty. The simpler words and expressions of the common
people are almost the same as those which they used on the shores of the
North Sea and the Baltic. For example: _Wo is min Vader?_ Where is my
father? _He is in the Hus._ He is in the house. English and German
sailors from opposite shores of the North Sea, using the simpler words
of their respective languages, have no trouble in making themselves
understood when they meet.
The High Germans learn English more slowly, but they, too, find many
points of contact, not only in the words but also in the grammatical
construction of the language.
In the United States the descendants of Germans number seventeen
millions. They have made no inconsiderable contributions to the sum
total of American civilization. For philological reasons, as we have
seen, no people are more ready than the Germans to adopt English for
every-day use. None amalgamate more easily with the political and social
life of the country of their choice. In normal times we do not think of
them as foreigners.
English has the right of way. Its composite character makes it the
language for every-day use. Thirty-five languages are spoken in this
city, but the assimilative power of English absorbs them all. The Public
School is the effective agent in the process. This is the melting pot
for all diversities of speech. Children dislike to be looked upon as
different from their companions, and so it rarely happens that the
language of the parents is spoken by the second generation of immigrant
families. Their elders, even when their "speech bewrayeth" them, make
strenuous efforts to use the language of their neighbors.
Seeing, then, that Anglicization is inevitable, why should we not cut
the Gordian knot, and conduct our ministry wholly in the English
language? This would greatly simplify our tasks, besides removing from
us the stigma of foreignism.
We are often advised to do so, especially by our monoglot brethren.
There are those who go so far as to say that the use of any language
other than the English impairs the Americanism of the user.
Some of the languages at present used in our church services may be of
negligible importance. The Slovak, Magyar and Finnish for example, as
well as the Lettish, Esthonian and Lithuanian of the Baltic Provinces,
will never have more than a restricted use in this city. The
Scandinavians and those whose vernacular is the Low German easily
substitute English for their mother tongue. Scandinavian is kindred to
English, while Low German is the very group of which, philologically
speaking, English is the most conspicuous member. Upon these tongues it
will not be necessary to do summary execution.
It is a different matter, however, when we come to High German, or,
properly speaking, New High German, the language of German literature
since the sixteenth century, of which Luther, through his version of the
Bible, may be called the creator. He at least gave it universal
currency. This is a language which we could not lose if we would, and
would not if we could.
Scholars are compelled to learn it because it is the indispensable
medium for scientific and philosophical study. Formerly Latin was this
medium, today it is German.
Lovers of literature learn it because it is the language of Goethe and
Schiller, the particular stars of a galaxy that for the modern world at
least outshines the productions of the ancient classics. Lutherans
enshrine it in their inmost souls because it is the receptacle of
treasures of meditation and devotion with which their forms of worship
have been enriched for four hundred years. To ignore Angelus Silesius,
Paul Gerhardt, Albert Knapp, Philip Spitta and their glorious compeers,
would be to silence a choir that sang the praises of the Lord "in notes
almost divine."
We need the literature in which the ideas of our church have for
centuries been expressed. Language is the medium of ideas. The thirty
denominations that constitute the bulk of Protestantism in this country
derive the spirit of their church life for the most part from
non-Lutheran sources through the medium of English literature. This is
as it should be. But when Lutherans no longer understand the language of
their fathers or the literature in which the ideas of their confession
have found their fullest expression, they lose an indispensable
condition of intellectual and spiritual growth. They can never
understand as they should the spirit of the church to which they belong.
They are doomed sooner or later to share the fate of the Lutherans of
New York of the eighteenth century.
When we have forgotten our German we shall be out of touch with the
Lutherans who come to us from the Fatherland. For the time being the
World War has put an end to German immigration, but this will not last
forever. Some time certainly immigration will be resumed, and as in
former periods will be an unfailing source of supply for the Lutheran
churches of New York.
In the nineteenth century the "Americanized" Lutherans did not
understand the Germans who came over in such overwhelming numbers, and
were unprepared to shepherd them in Lutheran folds. The work had to be
done by immigrant pastors who, on their part, did not understand the
American life well enough to accomplish the best results. For the sake
of the Lutherans who come to us from foreign lands we cannot afford to
lose touch with the historical languages of their churches.
At the beginning of the nineteenth century the use of German had sunk
almost to zero. The minutes of the German Society had to be written in
English because no one was sufficiently versed in German to write them
in this language. There was nothing to interfere with the supremacy of
English. Yet the English Lutheran church was unable to "propagate the
faith of the fathers in the language of the children." Down to the
beginning of the twentieth century, the English churches were dependent
for their growth upon accessions from the German and Scandinavian
churches. They were unable to retain even the families they had
inherited from their Dutch and German ancestors. We search in vain for
descendants of the New York Lutherans of the eighteenth century in any
of our churches.
Not until a new contribution of immigrants from Lutheran lands had been
made to America did our church begin to rise to a position of influence.
When in the second quarter of the nineteenth century the first
self-sustaining English Lutheran church was established, the
Ockershausens and other children of immigrants were the strong pillars
of its support. From that day to the present time not a single English
Lutheran church has been established and maintained in this city where
the Schierens, the Mollers and scores of others, immigrants or the
children of immigrants, were not the chief supporters of the work.
Without their effective aid the English Lutherans of the nineteenth
century would have been swallowed up by "the denominations that are
around us" as were their predecessors of the eighteenth century.
Some of our Anglo-American neighbors are concerned about our political
welfare. They advise us to drop the German in order that we may become
"Americanized."
Many of us are the children of Germans who tilled the soil of America
before there was a United States of America.
The Germans of the Mohawk Valley won at Oriskany, according to
Washington, the first battle of importance in the American Revolution.*
[Tr. note: original has no footnote to go with this asterisk]
The Germans of Pennsylvania, long a neutral colony on account of its
large English population, obtained the right of suffrage in May, 1776,
and turned the scale in favor of liberty. Through their vote
Pennsylvania was brought by a narrow margin into line with Virginia and
Massachusetts which would otherwise have remained separated and unable
to make effective resistance against the armies of King George.