The First Two American Bibles: Case Studies in Puritanism and Radical Pietism

by Dale R. Stoffer

Dale Stoffer (Ph.D., Fuller Theological Seminary) is Academic Dean and Professor of Historical Theology at ATS.

Introduction

It is ironic that the first two Bibles printed in America were not in English; even more ironic is that the first Bible printed in America was not even in a European language, but in a Native American language. The first Bible was the work of the Puritan, John Eliot, who translated the New Testament first into the Algonquin language in 1661, and, with the completion of the Old Testament, the entire Bible in 1663. The second Bible printed in America was the German Bible printed by Christopher Sauer in Germantown, Pennsylvania, in 1743. What is fascinating about these Bibles is that an investigation of their backgrounds provides intriguing case studies into important features of Puritanism and Radical Pietism as these movements were taking root in America. The backdrop of Eliot’s work, for example, opens the door to the fascinating world of Puritan apocalyptic prognostication; it also introduces us to issues that will become even more prominent as the American consciousness and conscience develop over the next three-and-a-half centuries: American exceptionalism and the ambivalent attitude toward Native Americans. Sauer, the most prominent German printer during the colonial period, provides us with glimpses into Radical Pietist themes that shaped the religious perspectives of many German settlers; his experiences further highlight the bias that German colonists faced from the English-speaking colonial establishment, both civil and ecclesiastical.

Notes about Bibles in English

Before proceeding I need to explain why there were no Bibles in English printed in America prior to 1782. In England the Universities of Cambridge and Oxford had received exclusive rights, through letters patent issued by the British Crown, to print the Bible, specifically the King James Version, in English. This right pertained to all English territories, including the American colonies; no English Bibles were permitted to be printed by any presses other than those at the Universities of Cambridge and Oxford. This legal restriction had the dual purpose of maintaining an accurate text and of producing revenue for the British crown.

Not until relations were severed with England during the Revolutionary War did this situation change. Now the colonies were freed from the Crown’s restrictions on printing the Bible in English, but they also faced a growing need for Bibles in English. To remedy this situation Robert Aitken of Philadelphia began a venture to produce an American version of the King James Bible. He proposed to the Continental Congress in 1781 that his Bible “be published under the Authority of Congress” and that he “be commissioned … and authorized to print and vend editions of the Sacred Scriptures.” The following year Congress, in a carefully nuanced response, issued a resolution to

highly approve the pious and laudable undertaking of Mr. Aitken, as subservient to the interest of religion as well as an instance of the progress of arts in this country, and being satisfied from the above report, of his care and accuracy in the execution of the work, they recommend this edition of the Bible to the inhabitants of the United States, and hereby authorise him to publish this recommendation in the manner he shall think proper.[1]

As one might expect, the proper interpretation of this act of the Continental Congress has been a flash point between the religious right and the secular left in recent years.[2] But that is another story.

The Algonquin Bible of John Eliot

John Eliot was born at Widford, Hertfordshire, England in 1604. He earned his B.A. at Jesus College, Cambridge, where he excelled in linguistic studies, especially the biblical languages. He was converted through the ministry of the Nonconformist, Thomas Hooker. His decision to immigrate to the New World in 1631 may have been motivated by the increasing pressure for conformity under King Charles I. Eliot originally settled in Boston, but in 1632 he moved to nearby Roxbury. Here he founded the church that he would serve as pastor until his death in 1690.

Cotton Mather’s lengthy biographical study of Eliot reveals a man known for his depth of piety, austere lifestyle, rigorous observance of religious duties, and his charity toward both the English settlers and Native Americans.[3] A more recent biographer chronicles the concern that he had for fair and enlightened treatment of Native Americans:

He brought cases to court to prevent defraud of Indian land, pleaded clemency for convicted Indian prisoners, fought the selling of Indians into slavery, sought to secure lands and streams for Indian use, established schools for Indian children and adults, translated books, and attempted to train the Indians to adopt a settled way of life.[4]

For these reasons, he began to be called “The Apostle to the Indians” in 1660 well before his death.

Eliot shared with the original founders of the Massachusetts Bay Colony a desire to bring the gospel to the Native American tribes. In fact the 1628 charter of the Massachusetts Bay Company stipulated that one of the reasons for coming to New England was “to win the natives of the country to the knowledge and obedience of the one true God and Savior of mankind.” The official seal of the company even had a Native American making the appeal, reflecting the words of Acts 16:9, “Come over and help us.”[5] Though this rationale for the settlement of the New World may have been more pretext than actual obedience to the biblical text, there were some, such as Eliot, who took the appeal seriously.

Eliot began learning the Algonquin language from a man from the Pequot tribe who had been taken prisoner in the war between the Narragansett and Pequot tribes. The Algonquin language was the trade language shared by many tribes that populated the Northeast and New England regions of North America.[6] In 1646 Eliot preached for the first time to a gathering of Native Americans in this language and began what would be a central focus of his ministry until his death. Through the work of Eliot and others, the “praying Indians,” as they were called, were gathered into 14 villages with some 4000 converts by 1674. However, by 1676 these 14 villages were reduced to only 4 in the aftermath of the devastating King Philip’s War between the English settlers of New England and numerous Native American tribes (1675–1676). In what would be a prelude to the fate of other attempts to establish communities of Native Americans who had converted to Christianity during the colonial period, this decline was due to hardships and persecution at the hands of the English/Americans, who questioned the allegiance of their Christian brothers and sisters.[7] It is appropriate to note that Eliot represents the minority of voices in the North American continent who called for the fair treatment of Native Americans; unfortunately other motives and agendas by settlers of the new nation would prevail and create the sad litany of broken promises and treachery toward the original inhabitants of the Americas that today stir the consciences of many Americans.

Eliot became convinced that one of the keys to advance the gospel among Native Americans was the translation of the Bible into their own language. Eliot was venturing into unchartered territory. The Algonquin language was not a written language; except for pictorial drawings, communication among Native Americans was predominantly oral. Eliot’s methodology involved rendering the Bible in the Algonquin language by using phonetic equivalents derived from the English alphabet. In effect, this translation gave Native Americans their first written language. Eliot also faced the challenge that any translator does: discovering proper Algonquin equivalents for particular words. When he could not find any equivalent, he simply used the English of the King James Version. To his credit, Eliot did not merely rely on the text of the Authorized Version; he went back to the Hebrew and Greek originals, generally seeking strict literal accuracy.[8]

In 1661 Eliot completed the New Testament in the Algonquin language, followed by the completion of the Old Testament in 1663. The completed Bible, which also included a catechism and metrical version of the Psalms, was printed in 1663 at Cambridge, Massachusetts, by Samuel Green and Marmaduke Johnson. A total of 1000 copies were produced. A second edition appeared in 1685, with the assistance of John Cotton.

An intriguing sub-plot in this story is that one of the significant motivating factors behind the Puritan mission to Native Americans was wrapped up in the eschatological expectations of some leaders, including Eliot. I need to share some background about Puritan eschatology at this point. All of the main Reformation groups, including the Lutherans, Reformed, Anglicans, and Anabaptists, as well as Roman Catholics, held firmly to the amillennial view of eschatology. In this view there is no literal millennium; it is figurative, usually understood as the reign of departed saints with the Lord in heaven prior to his return for the final judgment and the establishment of his eternal kingdom. Those few who held the idea of a literal millennium, or thousand-year reign of Christ on earth, were disparagingly referred to as “chiliasts” and often subjected to varying degrees of church discipline. In the post-Reformation period, however, premillennial expectations increasingly arose among the Puritans and, due to the influence of some of the more radical Puritan groups, Radical Pietism. The fascination with the apocalyptic passages of Scripture was seen in Puritanism especially by the beginning of the 17th century.

I should also note that both amillennialists and premillennialists in the Reformation and post-Reformation periods tended to view apocalyptic literature through the lens of what is known as historicism. Rather than viewing apocalyptic literature as written essentially for the people of the original author’s own day, the view called preterism; rather than holding that most of the prophetic passages of Scripture wait future fulfillment, as is true of the view known as futurism; historicism holds that apocalyptic literature provides a panoramic view of the history of God’s people. This view lends itself toward establishing God’s periodic timetable. Connecting apocalyptic imagery and events with known historical events, one can determine where the people of God are in God’s unfolding salvation history. English Protestants such as John Bale (1495–1563) and John Foxe (1516–1587) were joined later in the 16th century by such Puritan writers as Thomas Brightman (1562–1607) and Hugh Broughton (1549–1612) in giving more detailed speculation about where England in particular fit into God’s prophetic scheme.

I must say a word about John Foxe. Do you know that Foxe did not technically write a book called Foxe’s Book of Martyrs? His most significant work is called Acts and Monuments. This monumental work (the 1583 edition contained over 2000 pages) provided a panoramic view of church history by weaving prophetic imagery and interpretation together with the history of martyrdom in the church. During the 19th century all the prophetic material was deleted, leaving a significantly abridged Foxe’s Book of Martyrs. As one writer has observed, the Book of Martyrs is a Reader’s Digest condensed version of Acts and Monuments, with the “boring bits” left out. But these boring bits provided the eschatological reading of history that fired the curiosity of people of the 16th and 17th centuries.[9] A number of factors during the 18th and 19th centuries, however, served to undermine interest in such prophetic speculation: a shift in theology away from eschatology to either systems of salvation or ethics; the impact of the Enlightenment, with a substitute version of eschatology driven by human reason and accomplishment; and the demise of historicist readings of apocalyptic literature, especially in the aftermath of the Millerite debacle.[10]

During the 1630s and 40s, one strain of English Puritanism was strongly influenced by the premillennial, historicist perspective, as evidenced in the writings of Joseph Mede (1586–1638) and others. Even the great English poet, John Milton (1608–1674), was caught up in this speculative strain for a time. The eschatological fervor was heightened both by the persecution being experienced at the hands of King Charles I and Archbishop William Laud and by the growing sense that England would play a leading role in God’s eschatological plans. Note that adherence to premillennialism tends to increase during times of persecution because of the premillennial expectation that Christ’s return to establish the millennial kingdom would mean judgment for the oppressing kingdoms of this world as well as for corrupted Christendom. Hopes created by the Puritan Revolution of the 1640s led many Puritans on both sides of the Atlantic to believe that they were in the last days. Many were looking for two final events to occur prior to Christ’s return: the conversion of the Jews and the spread of the gospel to all nations.[11]

These two expectations were conflated in the early 1650s by several Puritan writers in an intriguing postulate that the Native American nations were in fact descendants of the ten lost tribes of Israel. This theory received support from an unlikely source. In 1650 Rabbi Manasseh ben Israel of Amsterdam, in his work, Spes Israelis, argued that Native Americans were in fact Jews. In this same year the Puritan Thomas Thorowgood listed in his work, Jewes in America, fifty commonalities in customs, language, and beliefs between the Jews and Native Americans. Eliot became a leading proponent of this conviction. The second edition of Thorowgood’s work, printed in 1660, contains a twenty-two page letter from Eliot in which he speculates that the scattered ten lost tribes settled in such eastern regions as India, China, Japan, and ultimately America. Eliot’s missionary work among the Native Americans needs to be seen within the context of his firm conviction that they were living in the last days and that God’s work of gathering lost Israel as well as peoples from all nations served as a prelude to Christ’s millennial kingdom.[12] Eventually the theory that Native Americans were actually Jews was rejected as the evidence was more critically assessed, though, interestingly, a variation on this theme would be resurrected in the 19th century by Joseph Smith.

I want to make one further observation about an idea connected with the British apocalyptic tradition that would have significant impact upon the self-understanding of Americans. Writers such as Thomas Brightman and Joseph Mede had intimated that England would play a key role in the events leading up to the millennium; some during the 1630s and 40s even suggested that England would be the seat of Christ’s empire. Significantly, this same sense of spiritual priority began to be expressed by Puritans who had come to the New World. For example, John Winthrop, in a sermon preached en route to New England, declared that the colonists were a chosen people who were marked out by divine providence for a special role. As the hopes for a purified church in England dimmed during the 1650s and died with the restoration of the monarchy in England in 1660, increasingly many Puritans in New England viewed their new homeland “as the special preserve of church and doctrinal purity, God’s chosen land.”[13] I will not take the time to trace this idea further in the American self-consciousness; others have told this story quite adequately.[14] But I will note that these seeds of American exceptionalism, sown originally in the Puritan religious soil of New England, would continue to spread throughout the 18th and 19th centuries. However, what began as a sense of holy calling in this new land would eventually morph into a secularized version or, more accurately, a civil religion, which would express itself as the doctrine of manifest destiny in the 1800s.

The German Bible of Christopher Sauer

Though nearly half of the settlers in colonial America at the time of the Revolutionary War were English, settlers of Swiss and German origin followed only those of African and Scotch-Irish descent in number.[15] These settlers were not only from the established churches in Germany, Lutheran, German Reformed, and Catholic, but many were from an odd assortment of other sects and groups: Swiss Anabaptist, Mennonite, Brethren, Amish, Moravian, Schwenkfelder, and Radical Pietist separatists. Many from these latter groups had come to America in order to express their faith freely, beyond the persecution and restrictions found in Switzerland and Germany. Among these immigrants seeking the opportunities afforded especially by Pennsylvania was Johann Christoph Saur, better known as Christopher Sauer I.

Born in Ladenburg, in the Palatinate, Germany, in 1695, Sauer migrated to Pennsylvania in 1724 with his wife and his son, Christoph. He died in 1758. Sauer was “a mechanical genius and inventor who taught himself twenty-six trades”[16] among which were apothecary, surgeon, clock- and watchmaker, botanist, lathe operator, joiner, glazier, lampblack manufacturer, and bookbinder. His renown among the German-speaking population of the colonies, however, was as a printer. Among German colonists his was a household name, because of his publication of a newspaper, almanac, hundreds of books and pamphlets, and the German Bible. He came to wield great influence among the Germans in colonial America because of his integrity; he refused to print anything that he deemed even the least bit untrue. According to Church of the Brethren historian, Donald Durnbaugh, Sauer, in his paper,

advocated nonresistance, urged fair treatment for Indians, opposed slavery, and recommended support for the Quaker bloc in the Pennsylvania Assembly. Sauer became a political force, able to influence German voters, who often represented the margin of victory or defeat in tightly contested elections.[17]

Though Sauer held a position of respect and honor among most German settlers, he had some much-publicized run-ins with his publishing rival, Benjamin Franklin. Of special note was the attempt by Franklin and others to found a Charity School ostensibly for the purpose of providing educational opportunities for scattered German families. When Sauer brought to light the underlying goal, to Anglicize and thus influence the Germans politically, the scheme fell apart.[18] Today Sauer is little known outside certain small circles, mainly those that share his religious and publishing roots.[19] For the most part his ideals were not shared by the political or religious establishment that came to dominate the American scene.

Without doubt one of Sauer’s greatest achievements was the publishing of a German Bible in 1743. In the foreword to this Bible Sauer noted two groups of Germans who were in special need of a Bible in their own language: the many poorer Germans who had come to America without a Bible and the many German-speaking settlers born and raised in America who had no access to a Bible.[20]

Sauer had begun his printing business in 1738. He had faced significant challenges in its founding, not the least of which were obtaining a press and type. His initial attempts to obtain a printing press through the aid of Pietists in London and Halle failed; his direct appeal to August Hermann Francke’s son, Gotthilf, at Halle was turned down. Donald Durnbaugh, based on Sauer’s own statements, maintained that Sauer built his own press; if this is the case, it would have been the first press built in America. Yet claims persist, reflecting the view of earlier Brethren historians, Abraham Cassel and Martin Brumbaugh, that Sauer was able to obtain a small unused press from Radical Pietists in Berleburg.[21]

Obtaining type also posed a significant challenge. Earlier printers of German language materials in Pennsylvania, including Benjamin Franklin, had used type familiar to English readers, specifically Caslon Antiqua, or Roman letters. But German readers would have found this typeface rather strange. Sauer was eventually able to acquire the far more familiar Fraktur typeface from the Egenolff-Luther company in Frankfurt/Main, presumably through the help of the Inspirationist author, Christoph Schütz of Frankfurt.[22] The Inspirationists would later become the Amana Colonies of Iowa.

Because the resourceful Sauer was able to make his own ink, he was dependent on others solely for his supply of paper. The primary suppliers of paper for Sauer’s publications were the Ephrata Cloister and his English rival, Benjamin Franklin. Sauer probably obtained most of his paper on credit from Franklin, who dominated the paper-making industry in colonial America. Franklin was initially reluctant to sell Sauer large quantities of paper until an influential figure in colonial politics, Conrad Weiser, also a German, promised to cover Sauer’s debt if he defaulted. Interestingly, Sauer ran up a considerable debt of 66 pounds sterling to Franklin between 1744 and 1748. Sauer paid off the debt by giving Franklin 40 pounds worth of German type and paying off the remainder of the account in cash. Just as shrewd as Franklin, Sauer made this deal only after he no longer had a monopoly on German type in the colonies.[23] It is also worthy of note that Christopher Sauer II would overcome the two remaining obstacles preventing the Sauer printing establishment from being entirely self-sufficient. He built a paper mill on the Wissahickon Creek that flows through Germantown and in the early 1770s he began casting his own type, the first person to do so in America.

With the necessary materials at hand, Sauer I began the arduous task of printing his German Bible in 1740, completing the run of 1200 copies in 1743. Sauer’s small press could print four pages at a time. The type was set by hand, letter by letter; after the pages were printed, the type had to be broken down and reset for the next four pages. According to tradition, when the final pages were completed, Sauer crossed his hands over his chest and exclaimed, “Dank Gott es ist vollbracht!” (Thank God, it is finished!).[24]

Sauer used the Luther translation, because it was written in the customary German idiom. The text was taken from the 34th edition of the Halle Bible, edited of course by Halle Pietists. Sauer notes that he preferred the Halle rendering of the Luther text both because it was rich in providing parallel texts and because it contained very few printing errors due to the fact that the printing plates were not broken down. Sauer does note in his foreword, however, that he had corrected over one hundred printing errors in the Halle text.[25]

Of special interest for this presentation are the additions that Sauer made to the Luther text. Sauer was a separatist by conviction, refusing to join any of the German established churches. As a Radical Pietist, he would have seen these religious parties as part of the fallen church or Babel. He remained separate even from the German sectarian groups with ties to Pietism and Radical Pietism: the Brethren, Moravians, and Inspirationists. Sauer did not hold some of the more spiritualist convictions of the Radicals, such as an aversion to work and marriage and a depreciation of Scripture in favor of the immediacy of the Spirit. But he also did not feel entirely bound by orthodoxy’s high regard for the Luther translation.

Sauer’s most controversial changes and additions to the Luther text were inclusions from a Radical Pietist annotated Bible called the Berleburg Bible. This new German translation was a favorite of separatist and Radical Pietist groups in Germany and America. Printed in Berleburg, Germany, between 1726 and 1742, it reached eight volumes and 6,201 pages in length. The chief editor was the Radical Pietist, Johann Friedrich Haug, though he was assisted by a number of other capable scholars. What distinguished this Bible was not only its Radical Pietist interpretations in the notes, but its scholarly introductions to each biblical book, the extensive verse-by verse commentary using the works of numerous biblical scholars, and the quality of the German translation of the text.

The commentary on the Bible occupied four times the space devoted to the biblical text. In typical Radical Pietist fashion, the selection of commentators was meant to be “impartial,” not aligned with any religious “party.” The commentators represented a broad range of writers, both in terms of time period and in terms of subject matter. Thus, writers ranged from the ancients, like Thucydides and Plato, to the moderns, like Dutch scholars Hugo Grotius and Isaac Vossius. The commentary gathered, seemingly in random fashion, a mélange of information from theology, history, genealogy, geography, philosophy, philology, and chronology. The thread that held these wide-ranging citations together was the mystical, spiritualist interpretation that was the hallmark of Radical Pietism. Sources that gave Radical Pietism its essential nature figured prominently in the commentary: Quietists, such as Madame Guyon (1648–1717) and Antoinette Bourignon (1616–80), English and German Philadelphians, such as Thomas Bromley (1629–91), Jane Leade (1629–1704), and Johanna Eleanore Petersen (1644–1724), and the mystical writer, Jakob Boehme (1575–1624).[26]

Interestingly, Sauer was an agent for the sale of the Berleburg Bible in Pennsylvania at the rather stiff price of 4 pounds, 15 shillings complete and bound. In contrast his own Bible cost 18 shillings, although Sauer indicated that for the poor “we have no price.” Sauer’s Bible contained no commentary and was meant for a broad German audience; thus his use of the Luther text. But he does reveal a bias toward his sectarian audience in including as an appendix to the Apocrypha three books found in the Berleburg Bible but omitted from the Luther version: 1 and 2 Esdras (3 and 4 Esdras in the Latin Vulgate) and 3 Maccabees. Luther’s omission of 1 and 2 Esdras derived from the fact that he considered them to “contain absolutely nothing which one could not more easily find in Aesop or in even more trivial books.”[27] With regard to the text of the Apocrypha, Sauer followed the more inclusive lead of the Berleburg Bible.

There is a fascinating “rest of the story” behind what has been referred to as the “lost” section of 2 Esdras. In the Latin Vulgate and consequently the King James and Luther Bibles, there is an omission of seventy verses in 2 Esdras 7:36–105. Scholars have theorized that the omission was occasioned by a strong prohibition of prayers on behalf of the dead contained in the latter verses of this section. These lost verses were supposedly discovered in 1875 in a ninth century Latin manuscript by the British scholar Robert Bensly. Yet almost 150 years earlier, two German Bibles, the Berleburg Bible and the Sauer Bible, include these lost verses of 2 Esdras. Bruce Metzger, the dean of all things pertaining to textual criticism, solved this intriguing puzzle in an article published in 1957. In 1711 Simon Ockley, the distinguished Arabic scholar at the University of Oxford, prepared an English translation of an Arabic version of 2 Esdras that had recently been uncovered in the holdings of the Bodleian Library at Oxford. Greater attention was brought to this discovery among Continental scholars when Ockley’s English translation was rendered into Latin by Fabricius. In the Berleburg Bible and subsequently the Sauer Bible, these missing verses are prefaced with: “A certain Arabic translation, which was just found written in England, has still a larger section that is not found in other [manuscripts]; it reads thus.” Because of the Radical Pietist penchant for not conforming their activities and thought to the strictures of orthodoxy, these verses appeared in modern Western Bibles first in these two German Bibles.

A second controversial addition to the biblical text was in Job 19:25–27; this is the passage in which Job declares, “I know that my redeemer lives.” For each verse, Sauer placed the translation from the Berleburg Bible first, followed by Luther’s translation, thereby allowing readers to compare the two translations. This passage is notoriously difficult to translate. The extensive notes in the Berleburg Bible on these verses may have convinced Sauer that this Bible’s translation was preferable to Luther’s. Without going into detail, I will simply note that a number of recent English and German translations favor the Berleburg Bible’s translation of verses 25 and 26 over Luther’s translation.[28]

Two other features of the Sauer Bible should be noted. One feature that was quite controversial was an appendix that Sauer called “Kurtzer Begriff,” “Brief Thoughts” or “Compend.” In this section Sauer raised a number of points that would not cause modern translators or textual critics any problem whatsoever. He noted for example that Luther admitted that he wrestled with the correct word to use for a translation and that he acknowledged the danger of missing some important point in the haste of translating. Sauer also cited other writers who observed that Luther’s style of translation could be “hard” or stilted and that he reverted at times to old Saxon phraseology. Beyond this Sauer indicated that translators inevitably allow certain biases and prejudices to affect their work and that even the most learned interpreters often disagreed about the correct translation. Sauer offered two correctives to these realities. First, in typical Pietist fashion, he called upon his readers to be open to the leading and teaching of the Holy Spirit, since he is the best interpreter of his own words in Scripture. Second, to help readers gain a deeper sense of the meaning of given passages, he presented alternate translations for passages where he thought Luther’s translation was not the best.[29] Note here one of the traits of Pietism in general: a balance of the objective and subjective. Objectively, just as Pietists advocated that Scripture needs to be compared with Scripture to bring out its deeper meaning, so Sauer advocated that translations need to be compared on difficult passages of Scripture. Subjectively, we need to rely on the Holy Spirit’s inward testimony to lead us to an understanding that speaks to our innermost soul. Interestingly, both of these characteristics of Pietism posed a challenge to orthodoxy because they undercut the authority of the clergy and the institutional church as the proper interpreters of Scripture. For Pietists, anyone who had at his or her disposal aids for interpreting Scripture correctly and who had the indwelling Spirit was qualified to understand the true sense of Scripture.

Another notable feature of the Sauer Bible was the highlighting of certain verses with boldface type. I have found no statement in the Sauer Bible about why these passages appear with such emphasis. However, the claim is made that George de Benneville was responsible for these verses. De Benneville (1703–93) was a French Huguenot who was associated with Radical Pietists in Berleburg and who immigrated to Pennsylvania in 1741. He became acquainted with Sauer and apparently helped with the printing of the Bible. Specifically, it is said that he marked biblical passages that had special significance for Radical Pietists and restorationists, which Sauer then set in bold type.[30] Some sources in fact indicate that these verses provided support for universal restoration.[31] Universal restoration is of ancient pedigree, going back to the third century theologian, Origen. This belief holds that God’s love will eventually bring all creation back to God. Even the devil, as well as fallen angels and unbelievers, will eventually be brought to a oneness with God’s will. Intriguingly, de Benneville may also have been behind Sauer’s printing of an English translation of The Everlasting Gospel, 1753, by the German universalist minister, Paul Siegvolk, a pseudonym for George Klein-Nicolai.[32]

Given the audacity of Sauer to include books in the Apocrypha not found in the Luther Bible as well as the addition to 2 Esdras; given his inclusion of verses from the Berleburg Bible in the text of Job; and given his challenge to the ability as a translator of the highly esteemed Martin Luther, it is no wonder that Sauer’s Bible was severely criticized by both the Lutherans and the German Reformed in Pennsylvania before and after it saw the light of day. The Bible was said to contain many printing errors, though this charge is not accurate. An error that appeared on the title page of the Bible did not help Sauer’s case, however. Sauer had decided to reprint the original title page to accommodate the concern of the orthodox clergy that the page indicated that the Bible was complete “containing the customary Appendix [Apocrypha],” when of course Sauer had taken perceived liberties with the Apocrypha. When he printed the new title page, stating simply that the Bible contained an Appendix, he misspelled the word “Parallelen,” printing “Parllelen” instead. To placate the concerns of the orthodox about the additions to the Apocrypha and about his commentary in the “Kurzer Begriff,” Sauer also offered to omit these sections for members of these churches. In spite of Sauer’s being labeled an “arch Separatist” by orthodox clergy, the number of Sauer Bibles with these extras demonstrates that most people wanted them, either because, like Sauer, they held separatist views or because the majority of Lutherans and German Reformed did not share their clergy’s concern.[33] Sauer’s son, also Christopher, would avoid some of these problems with his two editions of the Bible by omitting the controversial “Kurzer Begriff” and reversing the order of the translations in Job 19:25–27, placing Luther’s translation prior to that of the Berleburg Bible.

Sauer often found himself at cross-purposes with the colonial American establishment whether in terms of social morality, politics, or Biblical interpretation and textual criticism. Whether calling for fair treatment of Native Americans, opposing slavery, siding with the non-resistant Quakers in Pennsylvania politics, exposing the prejudice of Franklin and others against the “dumb Deutsch,” making use of the newest discoveries in the text of the Apocrypha, or highlighting textual issues in the Luther Bible, Sauer displayed a worldview that transcended conventional mores, politics, and orthodoxy. His separatist convictions, which contained an odd mixture of objective evaluation of received tradition and subjective reliance on the Spirit’s inner witness, allowed him to transcend many of the modern views that were taking root in American soil. As intriguing as it might be to ask whether his worldview is more characteristic of premodern or modern thought, this question defies a simple answer because there are elements of both of these perspectives. For him everything could ultimately be reduced to simple obedience to the leading of the Spirit as guided by the truth of Scripture. Equally simple, yet profound, was his life purpose: “For the glory of God and my neighbor’s good.”

Comparison of Puritanism and Radical Pietism

I want to conclude this presentation with some comparisons of Puritanism and Radical Pietism. Ernst Stoeffler has observed that both Puritanism and Pietism share a concern for piety and, as such, are related movements. There was much interaction between these movements, though initially much of the influence was from Puritanism to Pietism. At the heart of both movements was a deep piety of life, an experiential devotion to God that touched all phases of one’s life. If there is a difference among Puritanism, Pietism, and Radical Pietism regarding their expressions of piety, it has to do with the authorities upon which this piety is based. Puritanism, especially its earlier phases, was a piety of the Word, drawing deeply from a desire to conform all aspects of life to Scripture. Radical Pietism was a piety of the Spirit, living in full dependence on the Spirit’s immediate leading. Pietism was a piety of Christ-likeness. Pietists tended to balance Word and Spirit, desiring to follow Christ’s lead through the Spirit’s work of illuminating the truth of Scripture in one’s heart and mind. These observations hold true for both Eliot and Sauer. While the Puritan Eliot sought to conform not only his life, but the lives of his “praying Indians” to the dictates of Scripture, Sauer gave more authority to the leading of the Spirit, though he would fall somewhere between the Pietists and Radicals on this point.

Puritanism, like Pietism, recognized the political reality that sound government was necessary for the welfare of Christianity. Whether the development of Puritan establishments in New England or the alliance of Pietism with the developing Prussian state, these expressions of a spirit of piety saw no inherent tension in the idea of the church and state working in concert. The Radical Pietists, on the other hand, were willing to live in defiance of government or, at best, under a benevolent government, but they tended to see, like the Anabaptists, that the Christian is called to a higher allegiance. Eliot interestingly sought to conform both civil and church government in the villages of “praying Indians” strictly to what he perceived as the Scripture pattern.[34] Sauer, though advocating support of the Quaker establishment in Pennsylvania, would not compromise any of his Christian convictions to please the state.[35]

The Puritans and Radical Pietists had very different views of the church. Puritanism had a very concrete view of the church; this is true whether a given Puritan group was Presbyterian, congregational, or Baptist. The church had visible as well as invisible qualities and was defined, especially in the congregational sense, as the company of the regenerate or the visible saints. Radical Pietism obtained its view of the church from a radical Puritan group known as the Philadelphians. For both Philadelphians and Radical Pietists the true church is an invisible fellowship of true followers of Christ who are united by the Spirit independent of “party” lines. Such a church is not dependent on formally recognized clergy and does not need to observe formal sacraments. It transcends the human categories of parties (the established churches) which are passing away; indeed we are to separate from them because they are an expression of fallen Babel. Both John Eliot and Christopher Sauer would have been quite representative of their respective groups. Eliot remained thoroughly committed to the idea of a visible church of the saints[36] and there is no doubt about the understanding of the church in the case of the “arch Separatist” Sauer.

Both Puritanism and Radical Pietism became proponents of premillennialism. In fact, Radical Pietism depends upon the Philadelphian movement for its premillennial perspective. While Puritanism would develop a form of premillennialism that supported the developing sense of American exceptionalism, Radical Pietism tended to have more of the historic form of premillennialism that looked with disdain on the powers of this age, whether civil or ecclesiastical. Eliot certainly fit the mold of Puritan premillennial expectations. Though Sauer does not share detailed views of the end times in his Bible, he undoubtedly would have upheld the Philadelphian view of the end times as did most of the sectarians in Germany and America.

Though other similarities and differences between Puritanism and Radical Pietism could be presented, these are some of the most significant for establishing their essential character. Certainly Eliot and Sauer provide us with informative test cases for both of these colorful movements. While the impact of Radical Pietism would tend to quietly fade into the historical background because of its informal, invisible character, Puritanism would leave an indelible mark upon the fabric of American society, both civil and ecclesiastical. Though we may wish that some of the convictions that were true of Radical Pietism had become ingrained into the American identity, it would be its less radical cousin, Pietism, that would, together with Puritanism, profoundly shape the American religious identity.

Notes

1. Chris Rodda, “No, Mr. Beck, Congress Did not Print a Bible for the Use of Schools,” http://www.talk2action.org/story/2010/6/3/123527/8452 (accessed 21 December 2010).
2. Ibid.
3. See Cotton Mather, Magnalia Christi Americana; or, The Ecclesiastical History of New-England, vol. 1 (New York: Russell & Russell, reprint ed. 1967), 529–583.
4. Sidney H. Rooy, The Theology of Missions in the Puritan Tradition (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1965), 159.
5. “John Eliot,” Answers.com, http://www.answers.com/topic/john-eliot-2 (accessed 21 December 2010).
6. Rooy, The Theology of Missions in the Puritan Tradition, 157, n. 2.
7. Ibid., 223. The Moravian missions to Native Americans in the Ohio territory during the Revolutionary War suffered even more devastating persecution from American militia. For the unfortunate massacre at Gnadenhütten, see Allan W. Eckert, That Dark and Bloody River (New York: Bantam Books, 1995), 313–327.
8. “John Eliot, ‘Apostle to the Indians,’ ” Jesus College, University of Cambridge, http://www.jesus.cam.ac.uk/college/history/eliotexhib5.html (accessed 21 December 2010).
9. William M. Lamont, Richard Baxter and the Millennium (Totowa, NJ: Rowman and Littlefield, 1979), 12.
10. N.T. Wright, The Last Word (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2005), 87–88.
11. Joy Gilsdorf, The Puritan Apocalypse: New England Eschatology in the Seventeenth Century, (New York: Garland Publishing, Inc, 1989), 12.
12. Ibid, 81–83, 121–122; Rooy, 230–234; and Philip F. Gura, A Glimpse of Sion’s Glory: Puritan Radicalism in New England, 1620–1660 (Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 1984), 133–134.
13. Gura, 228.
14. See such excellent studies as Nicholas Guyatt, Providence and the Invention of the United States, 1607–1876 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007) and Conrad Cherry, ed., God’s New Israel: Religious Interpretations of American Destiny rev. and updated ed. (Chapel Hill, NC: The University of North Carolina Press, 1998).
15. According to the United States Historical Census Data Base (2002), the estimated 2.5 million inhabitants of the colonies came from the following ethnic groups (these are estimated percentages; only the top four groups are listed here): English - 48.7%, African - 20.0%, Scottish or Scotch/Irish - 14.4%, German - 6.9%. See “English American,” Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_American#1775_estimate (accessed 30 December 2010).
16. Donald F. Durnbaugh, ed. The Brethren Encyclopedia (Philadelphia: The Brethren Encyclopedia, Inc., 1983), s.v. “Sauer (Sower, Saur), Johann Christoph I,” by Donald F. Durnbaugh.
17. Ibid.
18. Ibid.
19. The descendants of Christopher Sauer II continued to be actively involved in the printing occupation. Three sons of Sauer II, Christopher, David, and Samuel, became printers. One of the sons of Christopher Sauer III was a printer in Virginia and two of his sons became printers as well as editors of newspapers in South Carolina. Samuel entered the printing trade in Baltimore. David, another son of Christopher Sauer III, in 1799 published the first newspaper issued in Montgomery County, Pennsylvania, at Norristown. In 1809 the Sower establishment passed into the hands of David’s son, Charles, who continued the business until 1812. In 1816, another son, David, Jr., assumed the printing establishment and continued the business until 1834. A son of David Sower, Jr., Charles G. Sower, the great-great-grandson of Christopher Sauer I, moved the establishment to Philadelphia in 1844, where he continued publishing, first in his own name, then successively as Sower and Barnes, then as Sower, Barnes and Potts, and eventually as Sower, Potts and Company. In 1888, Charles incorporated the printing business as the Christopher Sower Company by a charter granted by the State of Pennsylvania. The Christopher Sower Company continued well into the twentieth century and had the most direct connection to the Sauer legacy. (John Lauris Blake. A Biographical Dictionary [Philadelphia: H. Cowperthwait & Co., 1859], 1166.) Interestingly, Holman Bible Publishers, a subsidiary of B & H Publishing Group, also lays claim to being the direct heir of the Sauer publishing enterprise. Greg Webster, Director of Marketing for Holman Christian Standard Bible, shared in email correspondence with the author the following details: The connection between Christoph Saur and Holman Publishers can be traced through the companies which at one time or another owned the Saur enterprise. In the early 1800’s, the Sower Company went through a series of mergers with various printing partners which ultimately ended up under the name of Kimber & Sharpless. Kimber & Sharpless subsequently merged with the Jasper Harding Company, another Philadelphia Bible publisher. In 1839, Andrew Jackson Holman became the plant manager for the Jasper Harding Company, and thirty years later, he purchased controlling interest in the company. In the early twentieth century, his grandson, then in charge of the company, renamed it the A. J. Holman Company. In the 1960’s, the A. J. Holman Company was sold to J. B. Lippincott & Company. Then, when Harper & Row bought Lippincott in 1979, the Holman Company was sold to The Baptist Sunday School Board of Nashville, TN. The Sunday School Board is now known as LifeWay Christian Resources, the parent company of Broadman & Holman Publishers, the publishers of Holman Bibles. Greg Webster to Dale R. Stoffer 17 November 2000, email in the files of the author, s. v. “Sauer, Christopher.”
20. Christoph Saur, foreward to Biblia, das ist: Die Heilige Schrift altes und neues Testaments, … (Germantown, PA: Christoph Saur, 1743).
21. Durnbaugh, ed. Brethren Encyclopedia, s.v. “Berleburg Bible” by Donald R. Hinks and “Sauer (Sower, Saur), Johann Christoph I,” by Durnbaugh; Stephen Longenecker, The Christopher Sauers (Elgin, IL: The Brethren Press, 1981), 38–40 (Longenecker follows Durnbaugh’s view); and Reimer Eck, “German Language Printing in the American Colonies up to the Declaration of lndependence (part 2),” http://www.dhm.de/magazine/unabhaengig/eck_2e.htm (accessed 15 January 2011). Though Durnbaugh’s earlier statements on the origin of the Sauer printing press strongly supported the idea that Sauer built his own press, he was more open to the Berleburg hypothesis for the origin of the press in his 1997 Fruit of the Vine. Donald F. Durnbaugh, Fruit of the Vine, A History of the Brethren, 1708–1995 (Elgin, IL: Brethren Press, 1997), 129.
22. Eck, “German Language Printing,” http://www.dhm.de/magazine/unabhaengig/eck_2e.htm.
23. Ibid. and Longenecker, The Christopher Sauers, 42, 44.
24. Longenecker, The Christopher Sauers, 54–55.
25. Saur, foreward to Biblia, das ist: Die Heilige Schrift altes und neues Testaments.
26. “Berleburg Bible” by Hinks; Hans Schneider, German Radical Pietism, trans. Gerald T. MacDonald (Lanham, MD: The Scarecrow Press, Inc., 2007), 152; and Jonathan Sheehan, The Enlightenment Bible: Translation, Scholarship, Culture (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2005), 74.
27. Bruce M. Metzger, “The ‘Lost’ Section of II Esdras (=IV Ezra),” Journal of Biblical Literature 76 (June 1957): 155.
28. The issue in verse 25 (the TNIV’s rendering: “I know that my redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand on the earth.”) between the translations found in the Berleburg Bible and the Luther Bible concerns the second part of the verse. Luther translated this part of the verse: “and he will awaken me from the earth.” Here the emphasis is the redeemer’s raising (resurrection) of Job. The Berleburg Bible offers this translation: “and he will in the end stand on the dust (earth).” In this rendering, the implication is that, in the end, the redeemer will overcome death and triumph over all earthly powers. The KJV, RSV, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, TNIV and even the standard German revised versions of the Luther Bible (1972 and 1984) all favor the Berleburg Bible’s translation of this verse. Luther translated verse 26: “And after that I will be surrounded (clothed) in my skin and I will see God in my flesh.” Luther’s rendering of this difficult passage emphasizes a continuity between the two statements in the verse. The Berleburg Bible states: “And after that I will awaken, thus will these things be laid aside, and I will look on God in my flesh.” The Berleburg Bible’s translation has a discontinuity between the two parts of this verse, indicating that that our former bodies, and all those attributes true of them, will vanish and be replaced with a new bodily existence (this understanding is reinforced in the commentary). Though Luther’s translation does suggest a similar hope in a new bodily form, there is none of the discontinuity found in the Berleburg Bible’s translation and many modern translations (see again the KJV, RSV, NIV, NKJV, NLT, TNIV, and the 1972 and 1984 revised versions of the Luther Bible). There is very little difference in the translation of the Luther Bible and the Berleburg Bible on verse 27.
29. Saur, appendix to Biblia, das ist: Die Heilige Schrift altes und neues Testaments.
30. Albert D. Bell, The Life and Times of Dr. George de Benneville (1703–1793) (Boston, MA: Department of Publications of the Universalist Church of America, 1953), 26–28. As evidence for de Benneville’s contribution to Sauer’s Bible, Bell makes these observations: A Halle Lutheran Bible, 34th edition, in the possession of one of Dr. de Benneville’s descendants, has the same texts underlined in ink that were set in bold face type by Sower; and the interlinear cross-references, which are identical with those in the Sower Bible, are in the unique handwriting of Dr. de Benneville. (Ibid., 28.)
31. See John C. Morgan and Nelson C. Simonson, “George de Benneville,” http://www25-temp.uua.org/uuhs/duub/articles/georgedebenneville.html (accessed 28 January 2011). In looking at a number of verses that are highlighted in bold type, I do find it interesting that there are numerous such verses that do not necessarily have any direct connection to universal restoration, for example, Luke 4:18–19; and John 3:16; 13:35; and 14:6, 13. There are also verses that would be considered key supporting texts for universal restoration that are not highlighted: Acts 3:21; Rom. 5:18; 1 Cor. 15:26 (verse 22 is in bold type); Phil. 2:9–11; 1 Pet. 3:19; 4:6; and Rev. 1:7; and 5:12–13.
32. Bell, Life and Times of Dr. George de Benneville, 42–45 and Morgan and Simonson, “George de Benneville.”
33. Longenecker, The Christopher Sauers, 55–56; “The Gruber Rare Books Collection and Other Rare Books” http://collections.lstc.edu/gruber/luthers_bible/following.php (accessed December 28, 2010). Durnbaugh cites the interesting story that Sauer was once brought before the British military authorities in 1758 to answer charges that he had undermined the military effort. After he had been issued a warning but otherwise exonerated of any charge of treason, Sauer quipped that he had “fared better with the redcoats than with the blackcoats [clergy].” “Sauer (Sower, Saur), Johann Christoph I,” by Durnbaugh.
34. Rooy, Theology of Missions in the Puritan Tradition, 203.
35. Sauer’s son, Christopher Sauer II, would pay dearly for his unwillingness to take the oath of allegiance to the Revolutionary government during the Revolutionary War. In spite of his desire to remain neutral in the conflict, he was perceived to be a Tory. All of his possessions were confiscated and he was left with little more than the clothes that he wore. See Durnbaugh, ed. Brethren Encyclopedia, s.v. “Sauer (Saur, Sower), Christopher II,” by Donald F. Durnbaugh.
36. Rooy, Theology of Missions in the Puritan Tradition, 170–171.