The late evening sun reflected warm and orange in the windows of the partially finished Gemeinhaus. The fading glow in the window panes seemed like one final, defiant stand against the shadows slowly climbing the slope. Further down the hillside was the only other building in this snow-blanketed clearing. Closer to the creek, it had already been draped in the silver-blue of winter twilight. Called the Ruble House, this was the first cabin that had been built on the site. Pale wisps of smoke gently drifted from the chimney and the faint flicker of a single candle shimmered in one low window. A humble little structure, it combined a stable on one end with shelter for the founders of the outpost on the other. The more impressive Gemeinhaus would provide housing for the growing village along with a place for the community to worship, but that would all come with time.
The group working to establish this little Brethren’s settlement were a remnant from the earlier mission at Savannah. Conditions in the Georgia wilderness had been harsh for the Brethren, but they had established schools and were beginning to minister to both the Native Americans and the enslaved peoples of the region. However, that effort was cut short when the trustees of Georgia had raised an armed force for defense of the colony against neighboring Spanish Florida. Like all those living there, the Moravians had been required to either join the militia or pay for substitutes to represent them. Refusing, due to their pacifist beliefs, the Brethren were forbidden to continue their work and in 1740 left the colony. Relocating to Pennsylvania, which was much more tolerant, they had spent the recent months carving out a new home for themselves on land near the Lehigh on Monocracy Creek.
A few days earlier the little group had received exciting news. They had learned that Count Zinzendorf, their leader and primary benefactor, had arrived in the Colonies and he would soon visit them. The trip from Philadelphia had been difficult, it had taken many days for Zinzendorf to cover the fifty miles, but he had finally arrived safely. Now he was spending this special evening with them, deep in the dense forests of Pennsylvania Colony.
Gathered around the small fireplace in Rubel House, no doubt everyone was thankful for the added warmth from the cattle sleeping quietly at the far corner of the cabin. It was Christmas Eve 1741 and I’m sure Count Zinzendorf recognized the symbolism. Preparing to begin a new mission, they were alone in the night, far from home and huddled against the cold while sharing a roof with livestock. Leading the group in Christmas Eve vespers, Count Zinzendorf named the little outpost Bethlehem. Among the handful of faces in the flickering circle of firelight that evening was twenty-year-old David Zeisberger.
-written by Seth Angel, Frys Valley Moravian Church
