One of the other reasons I chose Anna to write about is that there are many missionary biographies focus on men, but there are very few written about women. And since men are biblically ordained to take the lead in missions and church leadership, it is right that men are encouraged in that direction. That said, there is room on about any mission front for consecrated maidens of the Lamb. Anna turned down two marriage proposals in her youth so that she could dedicate herself better to Jesus Christ. Not all are called to singlehood, but some are. This story is dedicated to the sisters who are sold out for Jesus.

At this time, Handmaiden of the Lamb, The story of Anna Nitschmann, Moravian shepherdess of souls is only available in pdf. Contact me if you would like a hard copy.

Anna Nitschmann was a dedicated sister in the Renewed Moravian Church

Anna Nitschmann was a consecrated sister in the Renewed Moravian Brethren church. This booklet was written to encourage young sisters to total consecration. Included in her story is an overview of the Moravian practices and teachings, the good points, and the bad. An appendix looks especially at Zinzendorf’s [bad] theology and the overuse of the lot.

Peter Riedemann's Confession of Faith is the best-articulated book I have found to describe the beliefs of early Anabaptism

A positive statement

Right from the first chapter of any of his books one quickly senses a different tone than that of many of the other early Anabaptist writers. With many of the others, I often feel that one thing lacking is a more positive expression of their faith. Written on the run, defending themselves against a false accusation, or having to scratch out a few lines through the terrible conditions of dungeon life made many of the Anabaptist writings come off as defensive or polemic. Having the luxury for careful editing or even the chance to make meaningful analogies to express their heart in a devotional style was uncommon in the early days of the Anabaptist movement. It is here that Peter Riedemann shines most. Riedemann was a very spiritual, expressive, and passionate writer. A longing for Christ and total dependence on the Holy Spirit flows through every page. Riedemann captured the devotional style. He comes off more like an Andrew Murray than a Menno Simons.

Riedemann started to write his first book in 1529 while imprisoned in Gmunden, Germany. He finished it approximately in the year 1532 shortly before he escaped from that prison. During his early years, Riedemann had fellowshipped and studied with some of the most gifted Anabaptist leaders of his day. After his escape from prison, he threw his lot in with the newly-forming Hutterian Brethren in Moravia. The brethren quickly recognized his gifts, and the next year they sent Riedemann out as a missionary, in 1533. In that same year he was again captured and put into prison until 1537, this time in the town of Nuremberg. After his release he traveled as a missionary and did pastoral work until he once again landed in prison around the year 1540, where he wrote his second book.

While in prison, Riedemann took advantage of a few privileges that other Anabaptist prisoners never had. While it is true that his books were written from a castle dungeon, as far as dungeon-life in the 1500s went Riedemann had it better that most. The Protestant ruler of this area, Philip of Hess, did not allow the Anabaptists of his region to be executed. So while Riedemann was imprisoned he was allowed some privileges—like writing. Many scholars think that these “Confessions of Faith” were actually written in answers to questions that Phillip of Hess had personally asked him.

Orthodoxy

One of the most obvious things you quickly notice about “Confessions of Faith” is that he presents the faith following the lines of the ancient Apostles’ Creed. Some have suggested that he did this to prove the orthodoxy of the Anabaptists to Philip of Hess … who knows? Whatever his motive, the beauty of this approach was that it presents the early Anabaptist faith based on one thing—their understanding of God. Just as A. W. Tozer said over 400 years later in the opening line of The Knowledge of the Holy, “what comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us,” Riedemann’s theology flows from his view of God Himself. However, flowing from this creedal approach, Riedemann rescues the Apostles’ Creed from a mere head knowledge by insisting that this ancient faith must effect our life—or it is vain. As he wrote, “no one may truthfully ascribe such glory and honor to Christ unless he has experienced this victory in himself.”[1]

Clear salvation

Pouring through almost every topic is Riedemann’s passionate appeal that the Law has been replaced by the Spirit and grace, and that salvation is entirely the work of the Holy Spirit. Furthermore, this salvation cannot stop with a head knowledge, but is always made manifest by a changed life. Riedemann argues very convincingly that by faith this salvation brings a great confidence and even an assurance of our salvation. Riedemann’s careful balance through these often controversial topics surrounding salvation theology is refreshing. Under the chapter entitled “How People Again May Find God and His Grace,” he writes concerning remorse about our sin:

Those who want to repent with all their heart must first feel genuine remorse for their sins. Remorse, however, means first recognizing how wrong, evil, harmful, and destructive sins are. Otherwise, repentance cannot endure, and still less can the sinner receive grace. True remorse follows the recognition of sin and is the basis on which people feel repugnance and horror of their sin. Yes, they even loathe themselves for being guided and controlled by sin for so long …[2]

Speaking of how the Spirit prepares our hearts for salvation, Riedemann says:

What does the Lord say? ‘No human shall see me and live!’ Therefore, when God starts to speak in us, something must begin to die. We must hear, see, taste, and feel the Lord God in the countenance of Jesus Christ. All of this must happen before such construction can begin.[3]

Following the spirit of remorse, Riedemann says the Spirit leads us to repentance:

Remorse, then, leads to true repentance, and repentance means to humble and submit oneself before God, to bow down, and to be ashamed because of one’s wickedness. This shame brings about a genuine return, so that one hastens to God, cries aloud, and prays to him for forgiveness and grace.”[4]

After surrendering to Christ, Riedemann writes that God’s salvation is real and life-changing. He, along with other early Anabaptist writers, insisted that salvation goes beyond mere mental assent. He offered beautiful analogies of how the nature of Christ is infused or poured into our hearts, giving us life and spiritual power. He even argues that this salvation gives us a real assurance of our hope in heaven:

He has given us a new birth to an imperishable hope, grafted us into his divine nature, and after we believed the gospel, sealed us with his promised Spirit. This Spirit now accomplishes everything in us, eradicating and destroying the sin that we have by nature so that what is good, true, and holy, which he brings with him and plants in us, may take root and bear fruit.[5]

Speaking of the incarnation and the receiving of the divine nature of Christ, he writes:

Through his actual strength and activity, Christ leads us to be partakers of his nature, character, and being. … Christ is our righteousness and goodness. He is our life; we ourselves do not live, but Christ lives in us. Christ is our resurrection, our salvation, and our all in all. We also believe that Christ’s incarnation means that we can be transformed. His suffering and death are salvation and life for us. In Christ we truly have everything.[6]

He [the Holy Spirit] also teaches and guides us, assures us that we are children of God, and makes us one with him, so that through his work, we are made part of the divine nature and character. We experience his work within us in truth and power in the renewing of our hearts. God be praised! In God we have absolute certainty that he has drawn our heart to him and made it his dwelling place.[7]

Christ is the root and the vine, and we are grafted into him through faith. Just as the sap rises from the root and makes the branch fruitful, so the Spirit of Christ rises from the root, Christ, into the branches and twigs, to make them all fruitful. The twigs are of the same nature as the root and bears its kind of fruit.[8]

Christ has given us his Spirit, which joyfully and without compulsion accomplishes God’s will within us.[9]

Speaking of the assurance of our salvation, but yet our continual need of God’s grace, Riedemann said:

Leaving everything else, we cleave to him and depend on him with absolute certainty that we can acknowledge that everything we have comes from God. Since God’s nature and character is eternal life, he has made us partakers and sharers of himself by sealing our faith with his Holy Spirit, which is the security of our inheritance. Through his grace, for which we praise him, we experience his works in us, and this makes us certain of all his promises.[10]

Spirit and church

As with his view on personal salvation, Riedemann speaks of the church as completely dependent of God’s Spirit and grace. Pointedly, Riedemann also argues that the true church is only made up of the company of those who are born again and walking in the Spirit and truth:

The children of God, however, become his children through the unifying Spirit. Thus it is evident that the church is gathered through the Holy Spirit; the Church has its being, and continues to exist, through the Spirit. There are no churches apart from those which the Holy Spirit gathers and builds.[11]

The church of Christ is a pillar and foundation of truth and continues to be that. Truth itself is expressed, confirmed, and put into action in the church by the Holy Spirit. Thus, whoever endures and submits to the working of the Spirit of Christ, is a member of this church. Whoever does not want this and allows sin to rule over them, does not belong to the Church.[12]

Real Spirit-led ministries

Speaking of the pastors and missionaries of these Spirit-led churches, Riedemann writes of the absolute necessity for the anointing of God in order to have a real ministry:

Those who have been on the mountain with Christ and have seen the tabernacle with all its adornments and furnishing, they and only they are able to know how to do the work to please him whose dwelling it shall be.[13]

If anyone is to go out [as a missionary] for the Lord, he must be chosen by the Lord and endowed with his power; he must feel that power working in him. Above all, he must let the Lord’s power rule over him and lead him. … Christ will not permit a messenger to go out who is not first clothed with the power of his Spirit. Those who feel this power will heed the command of their Lord, who has sent them.[14]

Kingdom-based missiology

The goal, calling, and desire of Peter Riedemann and these radical brethren was Christ and His kingdom. His heart beat with the heart of Christ with his appeal to manifest God’s kingdom on earth. This Kingdom-based missiology caused these early Anabaptist communities to pour out their lives in missions, even in the most difficult times of war and persecution. What’s more, when they built these missions they understood that disciplining them in all of the teaching of Christ was what was expected of them. They believed Jesus actually meant it when He said, “Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.”

The Son does what he sees the Father doing. When the Son wished to create a new humanity, or to renew humanity in the likeness of its Creator, he also wanted to do everything in the proper order.[15]

Since they cannot preach without first being sent, it is certain that God, in giving them his command to go out, puts his word in his messengers’ mouths. The Lord himself testifies to this when he says, “I have put my words in your mouth. I have set you over nations and kingdoms, to uproot, pull down, and destroy, and then to build and plant anew.” Therefore, all who have not been sent have no word from God. They only have what they have stolen from the Scriptures or from one another. That is the main reason God’s commission is necessary. It is not enough that they were sent; they also had to know the purpose of being sent, and what they had to do. Christ commanded them to do his work, saying, “teach all nations,” and “Preach the gospel to every creature.”[16]

Love

One last thing about the book that I feel I just have to mention. Through both of his books, Riedemann constantly speaks about the power of love. It is love, he teaches, that makes all this spiritual life work.

There is a particular point that Riedemann makes about love in the brotherhood that I don’t want us to miss. He argues that the oneness and unity that the brotherhood is to have flows from our understanding of the Trinity. This “community of the Trinity,” spoken of by Christ in John 16 and 17, forms the model of unity and love for the brotherhood here on earth. Riedemann used this concept of love so much that his first book has actually been named after it—Love is Like Fire. That title came from his inspiring analogy of a man building a fire from sticks. He says that when you first start building the fire, almost any size of stick can snuff it out. But as the fire grows, it can get to the point that even whole trees or houses can’t stop it. That’s the way love is.

Let it burn! ~Dean Taylor

Love is Like Fire

Love is like fire, which goes out before it really ignites if one puts too much wood on it, as those who work with it know. But once it really flares, the more wood one puts on it, the better it burns, so that even houses and whole forests are burned. But when there is no more wood, however, it dies and grows cold. It is the same with love. When it is first kindled in a man, small troubles and temptations smother and hinder it; but when it really burns, having kindled the man’s eagerness for God, the more temptations and tribulation meet it, the more it flares, until it overcomes and consumes all injustice and wickedness. But when love is not practiced, when the man grows lazy and careless, it flickers out again; the man’s heart grows cold, faith declines, and all good works cease. Then the man stands like a withered tree fit for the fire, as Jesus himself says. Love flows from faith; for where there is no faith there cannot be love, and where there is no love there cannot be faith. The two are so entwined that one cannot be pleasing to God without the other.[17]

[2] Ibid., 95.

[3] Ibid., 174.

[4] Ibid., 96.

[5] Ibid., 61.

[6] Ibid., 75.

[7] Ibid., 76.

[8] Ibid., 97.

[9] Ibid., 100.

[10] Ibid., 64.

[11] Ibid., 77.

[12] Ibid., 78.

[13] Ibid., 175.

[14] Ibid., 184.

[15] Ibid., 186.

[16] Ibid., 186-187.

[17] Peter Riedemann, Love is Like Fire: The Confession of an Anabaptist Prisoner (Plough Publishing House, 1993), 25-26.

The “want to” rejoices in the chastisement of the Father, even though he may not need chastisement because he has not transgressed in anything. The “have to” wishes to be without chastisement, even though he may do nothing right.

“Want to” obedience has its treasure and righteousness in the Father whom it obeys for the sole purpose of manifesting His righteousness. The “have to” person’s treasure and piety are the works which he does in order to be pious.

The “want to” remains in the house and inherits all the Father has. The “have to” wishes to reject this and receive his legally due pay.

The “have to” looks to the external and to the exact letter of the command of his Lord. The “want to” is concerned as well about the inner witness and the Spirit.

“Have to” obedience is imperfect, and therefore his Lord finds no pleasure in it. “Want to” obedience strives for and attains perfection, and for that reason the Father cannot reject him.

“Want to” obedience is not the opposite of “have to” obedience, as it might appear, but is better and higher. And therefore let him who is obeying because he “has to” seek for the better—the “I want to” obedience. In no way should he have an “I have to do this” attitude.

“Have to” obedience is Mosaic and produces Pharisees and scribes.[2] “Want to” obedience is Christ-like and makes children of God. The “have to” is either occupied with the ceremonies which Moses commanded or with those which people themselves have invented. The “want to” is focused on the love of God and one’s neighbor; yet he also submits himself to the ceremonies for the sake of those who serve because they “have to,” so that he may instruct them in that which is better and lead them to “want to” obedience.

“Have to” obedience produces self-willed and vindictive people; “want to” obedience creates peaceable and mild-natured persons. “Have to” obedience is wearisome and is glad when the job is done. But “want to” obedience is light and directs its gaze to that which endures.

The “have to” is grumpy, deep inside wanting to do his own will; the “want to” would gladly have all men to be as himself. The “have to” is the Old Covenant, and had the promise of temporal happiness. The “want to” is the New Covenant, and has the promise of eternal happiness, namely, the Creator Himself.

The “have to” is a beginning and preparation for happiness; the “want to” is the end and completion itself. The “have to” endured for a time; the “want to” will last forever. The “have to” was a figure and shadow; the “want to” is the reality and truth.

“Have to” obedience was established to reveal and increase sin.[3] “Want to” obedience follows to do away with and eliminate the revealed and increased sin.

The reason for the Mosaic Law

If a man wants to escape from sin, he must first hate it. And if he would hate it, he must first personally know it. And if he would know it, there must be something to stir up and make known his hidden sin. Now, it is Law or Scripture which does this: for as much as the Law demands, that much more the man turns from God to that which he has done, justifies himself by his ceremonial accomplishments, and clings to them as to his treasure. The greater his love for his accomplishments becomes, the more and the greater will grow his hatred for God and for his neighbor. For the more and the closer a man clings to the creature, the farther he is from God. The more he desires the creature, the less he will have of the Creator.

Moreover the law gives occasion to people to depart farther from God, not because of itself (for it is good[4]), but because of the sin which is in man. This is also the reason why Paul says that the law was given: that it might increase sin, that sin might thereby become known. Yea, the law is the strength of sin[5] and therefore it is just like the “have to” obedience, that is, obedience to law, which leads people into the most intense hatred of God and of one’s neighbor. Therefore “want to” obedience—love—is a sure way through which man escapes from such hatred and receives the love of God and of one’s neighbor. Therefore as one (having to do something) administers death, the other (wanting to do something) administers life. The one is the Old Testament ; the other, the New.

“Want to” obedience contrasted with “have to”

According to the Old Testament, only he who murdered was guilty of judgment; but in the New, he also who is angry with his brother. The Old gave permission for a man to separate from his wife for every reason; but not at all in the New, except for fornication. The Old permitted swearing if one swore truly, but the New will know of no swearing. The Old has its stipulated punishment, but the New does not resist the evil.

The Old permitted hatred for the enemy; the New loves him who hates, blesses him who curses, and prays for those who wish one evil. It also gives alms in a manner that the left hand does not know what the right has done. It says his prayer secretly, without evident and excessive babbling of mouth. It judges and condemns no one. It takes the mote out of the eye of one’s brother after having first cast the beam out of one’s own eye. And it fasts without any outward pomp and show.

The New is like a light which is set on a candlestick and lightens everyone in the house. It is like a city built on a hill, being everywhere visible. It is like good salt that does not become tasteless, being pleasing not to man, but to God alone. It is like a good eye which illuminates the whole body. It takes no anxious thought about clothing or food, but performs his daily and upright tasks.

The New does not cast pearls before swine_y nor that which is holy before dogs. It seeks, asks, and knocks; finding, receiving, and having the door opened for him. It enters through the narrow way and the small gate, and guards himself from the Pharisees and scribes as from false prophets. It is a good tree and brings forth good fruit. And it does the will of his Father, hearing what he should do, and then doing it.

The New is built upon Christ the chief cornerstone. It stands against all the gates of hell, that is, against the wrathful judgment of the Pharisees, of the mighty ones of earth, and of the scribes. It is a house and temple of God, against which no wind and no water may do anything, standing secure. Everything which withstands the teaching which proceeds from the New, denying its truth, will itself finally give evidence that the New is where God really dwells—although it is now maligned by the Pharisees and scribes as a habitation of the devil.

Yea, in the end those who obeyed because they “wanted to” shall hear, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself shall be with them, and be their God,” etc.[6] But of the house of the Pharisees and scribes (who didn’t put their heart in their obedience), it shall be said, “Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, and is become the habitation of devils, and the hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every unclean and hateful bird,” etc.[7] But to God be all honor, praise, and glory through His beloved Son, our Lord and Brother Jesus Christ, Amen.

Michael Sattler was a first generation Anabaptist in Switzerland, a prominent leader in the so-called “Swiss Brethren.” After having his tongue cut out, he was burned at the stake for “heresy.” A few days later, his wife Margaretha was drowned. Although the author of this tract is actually not known, many scholars assume that Sattler is the author, from its style and it being associated with the Schleitheim Confession.

[2] Here the author is probably referring to the Catholics (Pharisees) with their ceremonialism, and to the Protestants (scribes) with their sophisticated theological emphasis.

[3] Romans 5:20.

[4] Romans 7:12

[5] 1 Corinthians 15:56

[6] Revelation 21:3

[7] Revelation 18:2

Speakers include Nelson Gingerich, PA; David Graber, FL; Jerry Hoover, OH; Roger Hertzler, OR; Edward Kline, OH; John D. Martin, PA; Nathan Overholt, FL; Johnny Swartzentruber, GA; Chester Weaver, IN
For information, call 941-373-9351 or 941-371-8991.

-Thomas von Imbroich, taken from one of the letters to his wife, which he wrote to her in prison- mid 1500s. (From the book, Golden Apples in Silver Bowls)

Fruit or Doctrine? Which will be judged by?

Click the link for a
Book review of Will the Theologians Please Sit Down, by David Bercot.

“Come, give your hand,” said the smiling World,
“And together we shall go!”
But the good Church hid her snowy hand
And solemnly answered, “No!!

I will not give you my hand at all,
And I will not walk with you.
Your way is the way of eternal death,
And your words are all untrue.”

“No, walk with me a little ways,”
Said the World with a kindly air.
“The road I walk is a pleasant road,
And the sun shines always there.

Your path is thorny and rough and rude,
But mine is broad and plain;
My way is paved with flowers and dews,
And yours with tears and pain.

The sky to me is always blue,
No lack, no toil I know;
The sky above you is always dark;
Your lot is a lot of woe.

My way, you can see, is a soft easy one,
And my gate is high and wide;
There is room enough for you and me;
So let’s travel side by side.”

Half shyly the Church approached the World
And gave him her hand of snow;
And the false World grasped it, and walked along
And whispered in accents low,

“Your dress is too simple to please my taste;
I have pinks and oranges to wear,
Sensuous hues for your graceful form
And sprays to fluff your hair.”

Then added he, with a shake of his head,
Shielding his eyes in the glare,
“It makes much sense in this fierce sunshine
Your comely calves to bare.”

The Church looked down at her plain, modest clothes
And then at the dazzling World,
And blushed as she saw his handsome lip,
With a smile contemptuous curled.

“I will change my dress for a prettier one,”
Said the Church with a smile of grace;
So her simple garments were stashed away,
And the World gave, in their place,

Beautiful satins and flowery sheens,
With roses and lace and swirls;
While over her forehead her bright hair fell
In two bouncy, enticing curls.

“Your house is too plain” said the proud old World,
“Let us build you one like mine,
With kitchen for feasting and rec room for play
And cabinets never so fine.”

So he built her a costly and beautiful house;
Awesome it was to behold!
Her sons and her daughters met frequently there,
Shining in purple and gold.

There were cushioned seats for the lazy and rich,
To sit in their glutton and pride;
But the poor who were clad in humble array,
Were scorned ‘til they went outside.

Powerpoints and films in the halls were shown,
And the World and his children were there.
Laughter and music and ping-pong were heard
In the place that was meant for prayer.

The angel in mercy rebuked the Church,
And whispered, “I know thy sin.”
Then the Church looked sad, and anxiously longed
To gather the children in.

But some were away at the midnight bowl,
And others online did play,
And some were hangin’ at Pizza Hut:
So the angel went away.

Then said the World in soothing tones,
“Your children mean no harm—
Merely indulging in innocent sports,”
So she leaned on his proffered arm,

And smiled, and chatted, and downloaded photos,
And walked along with the World,
While countless millions of precious souls.
Over the fearful brink were hurled.

“Your preachers are too old-fashioned and plain,”
Said the smart World with a sneer.
“They frighten my children with dreadful tales
Which I do not like to hear.

They talk of judgments and fire and pain,
And the doom of darkest night.
They warn of a place that should not be
Mentioned to ears polite!

I will send you some of a better stamp,
More brilliant, educated, fast;
Who will show how men their flesh may please
And go to heaven at last.

The Father is merciful, great and good;
Loving and tender and kind.
Do you think He’d take one child to heaven
And leave another behind?”

So she called for pleasing and smart divines,
Deemed gifted and great and learned;
And the plain-spoken men who had preached the cross
Were out of her pulpits turned.

Then Mammon came in and supported the Church
And sat in a well-padded pew;
And preaching and chorals and floral display
Soon proclaimed a gospel new.

“You give too much to the poor,” said the World,
“Far more than you ought to do;
Though the poor need shelter, food, and clothes,
Why thus need it deprive you?

And afar to the heathen in foreign lands
Your thoughts need seldom roam.
The Father of mercies will care for them:
Let charity start at home.

Go take your money and buy nice shoes
And cars and pickups fine;
And phones and ipods and cameras,
The latest and costliest kind.

My children, they dote on all such things,
And if you their love would win,
You must do as they do, and walk in the way—
The up-to-date way they’re in.”

The Church her purse snaps tightly shut
And shamefully lowered her head.
She whimpered, “I’ve given too much away.
I will do, sir, as you have said.”

So the poor were pushed out her mind;
She heard not the orphan’s cry;
And she silently covered her Mastercard
As the widows went weeping by.

Thus they of the Church and they of the World
Journeyed closely, hand and heart.
And none but the Master, who knows all things,
Understood they had once walked apart.

Then the Church sat down at ease and said,
“I am rich and in goods increased.
I have need of nothing, and naught to do,
But to play, to sing, and to eat.”

The sly World heard her and laughed in his sleeve,
And mockingly said aside,
“The Church has fallen, the beautiful Church;
Her shame is her boast and pride.”

Thus her witnessing power, alas, was lost,
And perilous times came in;
The times of the end, so often foretold,
Of form and pleasure and sin.

Then the angel drew near the mercy seat
And whispered in sighs her name,
And the saints their anthems of rapture hushed
And covered their heads with shame.

A voice came down from the hush of heaven,
From Him who sat on the throne;
“I know your works and what you have said—
But alas! You have not known,

That you are poor and naked and blind,
With pride and ruin ensnarled;
The expectant bride of a heavenly Groom
Is the harlot of the World!

You have ceased to watch for that blessed hope,
Have fallen from zeal and grace;
So now, alas! I must cast you out
And blot your name from its place.”