The Settlers by Vilhelm Moberg

eating the remnants of their supper. It seemed like a miracle.
    “I got wet to the skin as I was crossing a creek,” said the young minister.
    “The streams are overflowing with all this rain,” said Karl Oskar.
    “I lost my way, then I happened onto a field and realized I must be near a settlement. God has led me to this hospitable home.”
    With his last words Kristina suddenly held her breath. She was working up to a question.
    Karl Oskar sat in amazement. Three kinds of people emigrated from Sweden: the poor and landless ones, those who preached religious opinions differing from the state Church, and those who had committed crimes. A minister was never poor, he had a home and a salary, he was well off. And he preached the right religion. So the question was, had he done something wrong? Why otherwise would a minister emigrate?
    He dared a direct question: “Why did you come to America?”
    “Because of the emigrants.”
    “Because of us . . .”
    “Yes. I wish to help look after the souls of my countrymen. That’s why I left my homeland and resigned my position there.”
    Pastor Törner had eaten with ravenous appetite and having scraped up the last spoonfuls of porridge from his plate, he began to talk. In his parish at home he had preached against the so-called Church Resolution, which decreed heavy punishment for those poor souls who, through negligence of the clergy, became ensnared in heresy. Fines, prison sentences on bread and water, exile—these measures, he said, did not bring any strayed souls back to the fold of the Church. You could not force people onto the right road by severe civil laws, but only through Christ’s mild gospel. For sermons of this kind he had been rebuked by bishop and chapter. By the Church’s grace he had been permitted to resign, and when some farm families from his parish emigrated to America, he had joined them as their pastor. He had not wished to have them or their fellow emigrants become prey to the many false teachings that were sweeping North America. In this country he aimed to give spiritual aid to his landsmen wherever he found them.
    And he added, with a look at the sleeping children, “I am sent to prevent your children from growing up heathens in this foreign land.”
    He rose from the table. Kristina’s eyes were fixed on him. This thin, pale young man, with little strength to endure physical tribulations, had traveled the same long, hazardous road and had sought them out in their new settlement to help them in their spiritual vexations.
    He had come to the right place; he had himself said that God had shown him the way through the wilderness to their home.
    And now she realized fully the miracle that had taken place tonight.
    —2—
    Karl Oskar and Kristina got little sleep that night; they sat up talking to the young minister.
    “I was told in St. Paul that Swedes were living near this lake,” he said.
    “There are only a few of us as yet,” said Karl Oskar.
    “I’ll look up all of them.”
    “You say you resigned your position at home—who is paying you now?”
    “No one. Kind people feed and shelter me, as you’re now doing in this home.”
    Karl Oskar said that he thought that as a minister had spent much money on expensive schooling he ought to receive definite pay for pastoral duties.
    “There’s nothing stated about that in the gospels. Paid positions for pastors are human inventions.”
    God had nowhere ordained wages for ministers, continued Pastor Törner. The Bible said nothing about it. And Jesus promised no pay to his apostles when he sent them out to preach among all the people of the world. The apostles lived in great poverty. Christ had not designated parishes or bishoprics for them. He appointed no chapters, set forth no ecclesiastical domains. The establishment of positions for gospel preachers came about long after his life here on earth, when those in worldly power had taken over and falsified his teachings. In the present age,