Some have heard about the Moravians, but even less have heard about Count Zinzendorf. He was a man of prayer, a man of passion for the "Martermann," the Man of Sorrows. He could preach all day without tiring. During a sermon he could talk himself into such exhilaration about his Savior that frequently, in rhythmic staccato, he would spontaneously break into impromptu rhyming lyrics, somewhat like the oral poets of ancient Greek and modern rappers. He was an itinerant vagabond for Christ. He urged the Moravians to pray unceasingly, and they prayed unremittingly for over a hundred years. In worship services men and women were separated, but he was instrumental in infusing such a Christian love among the Brethren that he had to advise them not to kiss so loudly that it "schmatzt," made a loud smacking sound, when they exchanged the kiss of peace. He entreated the Moravians without coercing to have a burden for lost souls. He wrote that he himself was not so much a God-fearing, but a God-joyful person. Yet he knew suffering. He was harassed as a boy in a boarding school; called a beast by a friend he protected; greeted by a jester in the royal court of Berlin, because the king thought he was a fool; exiled from his beloved homeland; accused of gross misconduct by newspapers in Pennsylvania; and lost nine of his twelve children prematurely. But Zinzendorf knew where to get his strength. Even in his early youth he developed an intimacy with the Lamb of God through prayer. This is a story of persecution, of dissension, of Spirit-filled boldness, of daring enterprises, of dying on mission fields and of congenial relations among the Brethren. The story of the Moravians in the eighteenth century reminds us perhaps of the chronicle of the early Christians in Acts.

A biography of the Germany nobleman who protected the Moravians from persecution in eighteenth-century Germany.

Part history, part narrative, The Lord of the Ring takes readers on a fascinating journey back to the 18th century Moravian renewal movement and 100-year prayer watch. Experience the passion of young Count Nikolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf and his friends as they took a vow to serve Christ their King faithfully in whatever situation of life they found themselves. Signed by the five school friends and illustrated in a medallion made by Zinzendorf’s grandmother, the vow of the “Confessors of Christ” is as relevant today as when it first was conceived in 1716. Join Phil Anderson on an aerial road trip via his three-seater plane as he undertakes a 21st century pilgrimage from England to Germany. Anderson retraces the steps of Zinzendorf, reconnects with his legacy and seeks to apply it to life and faith in a new millennium. Learning from the past, readers will discover crucial signposts for grappling with the Church of today’s identity and calling as an authentic, relational, missional community.

For many who identify themselves as Christians, Jesus has never become experientially personal or real. Countless others who have faithfully followed Christ confess to a spiritual dryness and lack of joy. These individuals are weary and unmoved by the plethora of information about Jesus. What they long for is an experience with Jesus. Picturing the Face of Jesus is an invitation to experience Christ more deeply. Through a rich palette of experiential media—art contemplation, gospel story-telling, and imaginative prayer—the reader is invited to picture the face of Jesus, his expressive, one-of-a-kind, human face. As a result, Jesus will become a real person with whom they candidly relate, instead of a hero they merely admire. Through this encounter, their own hearts will be transformed as they begin to reflect the face of Christ to others.

At the end of the 1740s, the Moravians, a young and rapidly expanding radical-Pietist movement, experienced a crisis soon labeled the Sifting Time. As Moravian leaders attempted to lead the church away from the abuses of the crisis, they also tried to erase the memory of this controversial and embarrassing period. Archival records were systematically destroyed, and official histories of the church only dealt with this period in general terms. It is not surprising that the Sifting Time became both a taboo and an enigma in Moravian historiography. In A Time of Sifting, Paul Peucker provides the first book-length, in-depth look at the Sifting Time and argues that it did not consist of an extreme form of blood-and-wounds devotion, as is often assumed. Rather, the Sifting Time occurred when Moravians began to believe that the union with Christ could be experienced not only during marital intercourse but during extramarital sex as well. Peucker shows how these events were the logical consequence of Moravian teachings from previous years. As the nature of the crisis became evident, church leaders urged the members to revert to their earlier devotion of the blood and wounds of Christ. By returning to this earlier phase, the Moravians lost their dynamic character and became more conservative. It was at this moment that the radical-Pietist Moravians of the first half of the eighteenth century reinvented themselves as a noncontroversial evangelical denomination.