# Der Lutheraner_St. Louis Missouri_1851 04 01_S126
# AI translation — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

126

praised Saviour! My soul longed most fervently for comfort and grace, and I prayed often, in anguish and distress of body and soul, that God would yet be gracious to me, an old sinner, and still my longing! Now I have found that for which my heart longeth. Here is the treasure that maketh rich and blessed. Oh, I thank you, my dear sir, from my whole heart and from my whole soul!" — Another explained to me that when, thirteen years ago, he was handed over as a recruit, he had received at parting, as a gift from his mother, who was then a widow and weeping bitterly, a little prayer-book, and had carried this about with him in his knapsack on all his marches in Turkey and in Poland. Many a bullet, he said, had gone through his knapsack, much rain had streamed down upon him and his book. He had often had to dry it when it was quite soaked through, but had nevertheless carried it about everywhere on his back as the comfort of his heart. At last, about a year ago, this dearest treasure of his life had fallen apart into pieces to such a degree that he had to part with it. Since that time he had longed fervently to possess God's Word once more in his dear, precious mother tongue, and now he was become richer than he had been; he now possessed the Book of all books and meant to keep it carefully to his end.

The most of the communicants had not been able in eight to thirteen years to come to any church of their faith and to receive the holy Communion; far from all evangelical pastoral care, they had had to be stationed now here, now there, in the more remote governments of the empire; but it appeared in the most of them that this long deprivation had not dulled them, but on the contrary had made them truly longing for evangelical nourishment of the spirit. This showed itself most plainly in a young Lett of about 26 years, a native of Mitau in Courland. Seldom have I seen a man rejoice more quietly, more fervently, more deeply, yea more blessedly, over the gift of a New Testament. The proofs of his gratitude are unforgettable to me. He kissed my hand, the hem of my coat, he stroked my knees, my shoulders, my cheeks, while with tears of joy he assured me in the Lettish and Russian tongues that he would not cease to pray for me, my wife and children, and that God would hear him and remember it to me at the last day, that I had made him so rich, so unspeakably happy. Since his entering the military service he had already often saved up money enough to be able to buy himself a New Testament, but had never found one, and then had spent the money again; now he had come, for nothing and wholly without hope or expectation, into the possession of this long-desired jewel, and would hold to it with thanks and joy to the end of his life. Seldom, too, have I seen a man so deeply sunk in devotion as this pious Lett on the day following at the Communion, where he did not even understand my language. With folded, half-raised hands he lay kneeling, sunk in devotion, on the floor, apparently forgetting all that went on around him, and in the most lively converse with his Lord alone. Among the seventy there were also two very young men, in their growth and appearance more boys than youths, the one of Lettish, the other of German parents. But both spoke and read only Russian and had been brought up in the cantonists' school at Riga. In spite of manifold urging, even, as they told me, from a German officer in this school, to go over to the Greek-Russian Church, they had remained true — the one especially in grateful remembrance of his mother, who blessed him with tears — to the faith of their fathers. But since they both understood only Russian, they had not been admitted to the instruction for confirmation. Meanwhile the age of their fitness for military service drew near, and they were therefore sent unconfirmed to their regiments. These I summoned to me specially for the afternoon, conversed with them for a while, convinced myself that they understood, in a scanty way, somewhat more of Christianity than perhaps a heathen otherwise would, gave them some little tracts in the Russian language, confirmed them the day following, and took them to the Communion.

When now the men had left me amid hearty good wishes and with many proofs of sincere gratitude, and I was sunk in many thoughts of the deepest emotion over what I had experienced, there entered once more an old soldier whom I had hardly noticed before in the crowd. He was an Esthonian, and after the manner of his people he stooped down with a timid look to my knees and said: "Ah, dear sir! You have given me, an old sinner, no New Testament, because I did not know how to read. I am indeed old, and my stupid head can no longer learn what I neglected in my youth. But next spring my term of service is out, then I return to my home. At home I have still my wife and my two children. And so I would now beg you to give me a New Testament, that I may bring it to my children, and that they may become wiser in God's Word and thereby also more pious and better than I." With thanks and joy he received his New Testament.

On the day following, when the men came to the Communion, their leader, the young officer, entered my room and said: "Only think how it went with me yesterday! Full of ill humor over the delay of the Communion celebration, and full of concern lest from tedium some mischief might be done by my men, I hurried yesterday evening, late, at ten o'clock, to the barracks, to see whether all was in order. I step in, and behold, I scarcely trusted my eyes! My narrow barrack-room had become a school. On the floor, in the corners, on the stove and at the windows sat my men, each had a new, handsomely bound book in his hand, and all were in full, devout reading. What is this? I asked the men. — Why, they said, our pastor has given us, each in his own language, a New Testament, and we are full of thanks and joy to have come into the possession of this long-desired, precious treasure. — Now tell me, pray, how could you give the men so many books, when the good binding alone makes up a considerable sum?" I explained to him that the Bible societies had been established among us as a work of compassionate Christian love, to the end that even the poorest might be enabled to obtain a New Testament of his own for his use. — "That is very fine," he answered, "I shall make an exact report of it to my chief." — —

(Christenbote.)

On Luke 13, 28—30.

A man died, and came before the gate of heaven; it was shut, and at his knocking an angel came out, who asked: "Whither wilt thou?" The man answered: "Into heaven!" "Thou art at the right door", said the angel, "so come, I will lead thee about, for in our Lord's house are many mansions. Thou shalt choose for thyself in which thou wilt dwell!" With these words the angel went before, and the man followed him. Presently they stood before a dwelling of the blessed, and the angel said: "Behold, these are blessed! They know face to face, look into the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God, and comprehend His judgments, which on earth were incomprehensible to them, — that is their blessedness. Wilt thou dwell with them?" "No!" cried the man; "lead me farther, for that is no blessedness for me." The angel went farther and led the man before a second dwelling. "Behold", said he, "here dwell blessed ones! They behold themselves, and they marvel, for they are without sin! Therefore they serve the LORD their God without ceasing, in pure joy and delight, without resistance of their own will; their will and their God's will have become wholly one, — that is their blessedness. Wilt thou dwell with them?" "No!" cried the man; "lead me farther, for that is no blessedness for me." They went farther, and stood still before a third dwelling. "So behold here," said the angel, "here dwell blessed ones! They know one another, without ever having seen one another on earth; they sit together at one table and enjoy one food, the love of their God; they love one another without ceasing, for devil, sin and death enter here no more; hear how they sing with new tongues: "Holy, blessed is the friendship and fellowship which we have, and wherein we refresh ourselves!" — That is their blessedness. Wilt thou dwell with them?" "No!" cried the man; "lead me farther, for that is no blessedness for me." Then the angel said: "I will show thee yet one dwelling, the fairest of all; but only this one more, for if there is no blessedness for thee here, then in heaven there is no room for thee." As they drew near this dwelling, the man heard wonderful singing, but it did not refresh him. Now he could see the company of the blessed who dwelt here; they were clothed with white garments, and bore palms in their hands. In the midst of them he saw One who was like the Son of man; His countenance shone like the bright sun, on His hands and feet there shone in bloody splendor the memorials of the pain He had suffered.