The Settlers by Vilhelm Moberg Page A

the official positions (the state offices) were the greatest hindrance to spreading the gospel among the people. But within a hundred years these positions would undoubtedly be discarded throughout the world, even in backward Sweden. In that country, religious persecutions had become so intense that protests had been raised by other, more enlightened, countries. 1
    Karl Oskar and Kristina thought their guest was a most unusual minister.
    “Have people in these settlements forgotten the Ten Commandments? Have they God’s Word with them here to read?” he asked.
    From their Swedish chest Kristina fetched the two books which, together with the almanac, had accompanied them from their home village: Karl Oskar’s confirmation Bible and her confirmation psalmbook.
    “I see that all is well in this house!”
    Pastor Törner had visited several Swedish settlements where God’s Word was missing. In one settlement of nine families on the Illinois prairie he had been unable to find more than two Bibles; all the settlers had been physically healthy and thriving, but although he had been pleased with their worldly success he had felt depressed by their spiritual poverty; he had encountered grown men and women who remembered no more than two or three of the Commandments but he had aided them to the best of his ability. One poor old man, tottering on the edge of his grave, knew not one of the Commandments. And many were filled with hatred against Sweden and the Lutheran religion and lived happily in their conviction that the devil had ordained the authorities in that country in order to assure for himself all the souls there, without interference.
    Pastor Törner had encountered no slackness in morals among his countrymen out here, he was glad to relate. He had already baptized many newborn children in the Swedish settlements, but only two had been born out of wedlock, and they had been begotten on board ship during the crossing, so those sins had not been committed here in America.
    Kristina had long been sitting with a question on her lips, the anxious question, so important to her:
    “Could you, Mr. Pastor . . . would you be kind enough to prepare us for the Holy Communion . . . ?”
    “With greatest pleasure, Mrs. Nilsson! I carry the Lord’s token with me in my bag. I distribute these means of grace to all who ask for them.”
    “We have not enjoyed it for more than three years.”
    “Couldn’t I hold communion for all the Swedes in this neighborhood at the same time?” wondered the young minister. “It would strengthen their spiritual solidarity.”
    “We live so far apart here,” said Karl Oskar.
    “And we have no church,” said Kristina.
    Pastor Törner smiled kindly and waved his hands in Karl Oskar’s long sleeves, brushing away their objections with the greatest of ease. He had held communion in dense forests, on the open prairie, in log cabins and kitchens, in sheds and stables and cellars, on ox wagons, on riverboats—and a few times even in a church! What need had he, a poor God’s servant, of a gilded pulpit, an expensively decorated altar, when the founder of Christianity himself had preached from a naked mount, and his disciples from dim dungeons! Should he consider himself above Jesus?
    He looked about in the room: “Could I be permitted to use this home for a communion?”
    Karl Oskar and Kristina looked worriedly at each other, then they answered, both at the same time: “Our home can be used, of course . . . if our simple log cabin is good enough . . . of course we will . . .”
    “Thank you! Then we will invite the people and set the Lord’s table here in this house!”
    And the minister waved his long sleeves with increased liveliness; it was already decided, then!
    But it was late, their guest was tired and needed rest. Kristina said she would make a bed for Johan and Harald on the floor and let the minister sleep in their bed.
    “Don’t awaken the boys for my sake, Mrs. Nilsson!” he