Women We Should Know & Honor: Katharina Zell

Well, we are continuing on in our series of remarkable women you should know and love.

So, and this morning, we're going to hit a different period, a little bit earlier from last time.

So, she described herself as a splinter from the rib of that blessed man, Matthew Sell.

There is Matthew Sell.

This is the one-time pastor of the cathedral in Strasbourg.

He referred to her as mein Hilfe, or my helper, or from the old king, my strong warrior.

The first help that she gave him was when he was under excommunication by the bishop for having married her.

Opponents of the Reformation, seeking to discredit Sell,

they had circulated the tale that she had caught her husband cavorting with the maid,

and that when she confronted him, he beat her black and blue.

These were hardy days of lampoon.

To lay to rest this dastardly effort to wreck her husband's reputation,

Catherine published a refutation.

First off, let me clarify, I have never, ever had a maid, she writes.

And as for thrashing me, my husband and I have never had an unpleasant 15 minutes.

We could have no greater honor than to die rejected of men from two crosses

to speak to each other words of comfort.

Well, in addition to flouting the fable of her husband's infidelity,

Catherine continued with a very spirited defense of clerical marriage,

that it is actually legitimate for pastors to marry,

because in the Roman Catholic tradition, this was forbidden.

And it was a timely task for that year, 1523,

seven priests in Strasbourg, including her husband,

were excommunicated for having married.

So at this time, Reformation teaching was getting out,

and among the tenants was, well, you know, there's no real biblical basis

for pastors not being able to marry.

So it's our freedom, so let's go ahead and do this.

The tradition was otherwise.

No, no, no, no, you can't marry.

But a priest taking a mistress was winked at,

indeed provided a good source of income for the bishop,

who would levy a fine for the favor.

But as to marriage, that's impermissible.

So you kind of see the way the arrangement was.

Okay, you can't be expected to kind of go without,

so we'll just charge you as a priest.

Can't marry, but you can pay a fine

for your indiscretions on the side here.

And you can make a lot of money that way, as you would think.

Well, the man who had taken the lead in this matter

was Martin Busser,

who married the erstwhile nun,

Elizabeth Silberstein,

cast out on every quarter

for this daring and denounced deed,

it was Matthew Tsel who took them in.

Busser, Martin Busser, was bullish on marriage

and tried to convince all of his reformer friends

to follow his lead,

including his host, Matthew Tsel.

Accordingly, he directed letters

to eligible lady candidates,

trying to see who might step up

and marry these pastors.

To the noble and honorable Christian lady,

Ottilie von Hohenheim of Basel.

He begins by reassuring her

that the men he has on offer

are not looking for a wife

simply to gratify their passions.

No, they are all capable of continence,

but rather are acting to render

the marriage of ministers reputable.

He then flatters Ottilie by informing her

that of all the women he has taken

into review for the task,

none has outscored her for suitability.

He writes,

your deportment hitherto has been exemplary.

Then came the final stirring appeal.

Will you crown your witness

by assuming a reviled and crucified marriage?

I beseech you in the name of Christ,

crucified and accursed.

But alas, Ottilie did not feel

that this was her cross to bear,

so Busser had to look further.

It would be,

if you did marry a priest at the time,

you would probably be shunned in society

because this was such a rare thing to do

at that time.

But before long,

Matthäus Tsel, Matthew Tsel,

was standing at the altar,

yet alas, only officiating

for his minister friend Anton Fion.

Now a priest marrying was still

the cutting edge of novelty in Strasbourg.

So Tsel had to be very careful

at one point in the service.

You've probably guessed what it is.

If any know any just cause

why these two may not lawfully be joined together,

let him speak now or forever hold his peace.

So,

hitherto it has been the custom,

said Tsel,

for the minister to ask this question.

This is a wholesome practice,

but there are those who come forward

with very unjust causes,

claiming that priests should not marry.

Tsel commended the couple's step,

predicting that more and more brothers,

God willing,

will follow your example.

Well, as it turned out,

the next brother to follow Fiern's example

was Matthäus Tsel himself,

taking up his own exhortation

and taking the hand of Katharina Schutz.

Martin Busser,

with no small relish,

brought the number of married ministers

up to four by solemnizing the union.

And Martin Luther sent out to the bride

a letter of congratulation.

Catherine was 25,

and Matthew, Matthäus Tsel,

was 20 years older than that.

There he is,

about that age.

Well,

Luther's letter of connubial congrats

was not the first

that he had written to Catherine.

Like Luther,

Catherine had suffered

dire anguish of spirit,

struggling after an ever-elusive forgiveness

and a sense of acceptance before God.

And it was a gospel track

of Martin Luther's

which had delivered her

from her slough of despond.

And again,

like Luther,

Katharina constantly battled

with a proclivity

to depression of spirit

and was rocked

by recurrent wrestlings

with doubt.

Doubt of God's love

and his forgiveness of her.

She was prone

to think that her childlessness,

the cells lost

two infants,

as a mark of defined

displeasure over her sins.

Many notions

that had just been

so customary

and superstitious

just continued on,

had a long afterlife,

even after you have

good biblical teaching.

It takes us a while

to shake off

a lot of our superstitions.

But

all of these struggles

of spirit

certainly did not

render her inactive.

Indeed,

one wonders

when she would have had

any time

for doler

or doldrums

as her days

and nights

seemed not merely laced

but larded

with acts

of mercy

and kindness.

It's often a good way

to get over

your depression

or your sense

of discouragement

is this thing.

Well, let me help

some people

whose lot might be

even a little worse

than mine

and then you forget

you could forget

some of your own

difficulties.

Well,

she definitely had

the gifts of helps

and hospitality.

The edict

of Worms

against Luther

and his followers.

Remember,

that's where Luther

made that celebrated

statement.

Here I stand.

I can do no other.

I need to go

by my conscience

well.

And then

the emperor,

Charles V,

declared Luther

and all his followers

illegal,

religiously illegal

so that any

of their followers

he could be killed

as a just act

of legality

at that time.

That's why

he had to go

into hiding

and it ran

into difficulty

for any sort

of Lutheran

followers.

So,

that edict

of Worms

against Luther

and his followers

sent many a pastor

into hiding

or exile.

A hundred

and fifty

of the men

of the town

of Kensington

accompanied

their pastor

for several miles

to see him

off into some

sort of hiding

place,

trying to protect

him against

the Austrian

troops that were

coming in

to just kill

these pastors.

So,

they're accompanying

him for several

miles to see

him off,

only to discover

when they tried

to come back

into their

town that the

Austrian soldiers

had closed the

gates against

them.

One of their

number was caught

and executed

there and then,

prompting the

others to flee

for their lives,

leaving their

wives in the

town.

They fled to

Strasbourg,

Strasbourg,

and there,

Catherine put

up eighty

of them herself

in her own

home,

feeding sixty

men for

three weeks.

Quite a

remarkable

achievement.

A veritable

hotel manager

and short

order chef

all rolled

into one.

And in the

midst of all

this,

including finding

and organizing

provision for

the others

elsewhere in

the city

of Strasbourg,

she managed

to write

a letter

to the

wives left

back in

Kensington,

which proved

so mightily

consoling that

it was

published.

Here it is,

the suffering

of believing

Christian wives

from the town

of Kensington

with

sisterly,

with your

sister in

Christ,

always at

your service,

Catherine

Schutz,

that was

her maiden

name.

She writes,

to my

fellow sisters

in Christ,

day and

night I

pray God

that he

may increase

your faith

and that you

forget not

his invincible

word,

my thoughts

are not your

thoughts,

saith the

Lord.

The Lord

would wean

you from

this world

that you

may rely

solely upon

him.

Faith is

not a

faith which

is not

tried.

And on

it goes

from

scripture

to

scripture

fostering

faith and

hope in

their sore

trials.

Wonderful,

wonderful

piece.

I'm not

aware that

it's in

English,

but it's

a wonderful

piece published

there.

another

challenge to

Catherine's

skills of

hospitality,

mercy,

and

administration

came when

the

peasants'

war of

1525

broke out.

There was

a kind of

a peasants'

rebellion and

they were

largely

slaughtered.

And

thousands

upon

thousands

were

massacred

in a

gruesome

bloodbath.

And the

widowed and

the wounded,

the mangled

and the

maimed who

survived of

the peasantry

flocked to

Strasbourg.

Strasbourg was

a city in

Europe that

had a

reputation of

being very

welcoming of

the afflicted,

that wonderful

Christian

reputation.

So they're

flocking to

Strasbourg to

the tune of

3,000 refugees

coming in,

all desperate

for care.

That would

have been,

just to give

you a sense

of the

numbers,

that would

have been

a ratio

of one

refugee for

every eight

inhabitants of

the city of

Strasbourg.

So it's a

pretty remarkable

challenge.

So Catherine

Zell was

one of the

two given

charge of

this challenge.

So she

had to

organize the

lodging,

requisitioning a

large Franciscan

church for

starters,

and then

spreading the

rest throughout

the city in

private quarters,

and then

food.

She had to

feed them

all.

So just

call her

Catherine the

Catering Queen.

And this

crisis lasted

for a half

a year

before the

war subsided

and the

refugees were

able to

return to

their farms.

So I

speculate that

it was during

this period

that Catherine

acquired a

certain

executive

tone.

She is

a trifle

imperious,

Busser once

remarked of

Catherine.

Well,

compared to

these feats,

it must have

been child's

play to

host Zwingli

of Zurich and

Uckelampadius of

Basel on their

way to meet

Luther and

Melanchthon for

their colloquy

of Marburg.

For 14

days, I was

their cook and

maid, writes

Catherine.

No doubt she

was hoping for

reproachment

between the

Reformation

leaders and

when news

came back to

Strasbourg that

Luther had

declined to

unite.

You remember

at the

colloquy of

Marburg,

Zwingli and

Luther produced

an agreement

on 28 of

29 tenants of

their faith and

the one thing

that they didn't

agree on was

their understanding

of the Lord's

Supper.

Zwingli took a

symbolic view

and Luther

took a

realist view.

So when

Zwingli offered

Luther his

hand at the

end of

Christian

companionship,

Luther wouldn't

take it.

So Catherine

darted off a

chiding letter

to the great

theologian,

pleading that

love ought to

be above all

else.

She got a

swift response.

Yes, wrote

Luther, except

where God's

word is at

stake.

Catherine and

her husband

were not

always the

hosts, for

they also

traveled a

good bit

together.

They did

so together

to Switzerland,

Constance,

Swabia,

Nuremberg,

the Palatinate,

and even

once the

600-mile

journey to

Wittenberg to

visit Luther and

Melanchthon.

Now the

cells, Matthew

and Catherine,

were wider in

their friendship

and fellowship

than Luther.

Theirs was a

refreshing breeze

in an age of

pretty stormy

animosities.

Anyone who

acknowledges

Christ as the

true son of

God and the

sole savior of

mankind is

welcome at our

table, said

her husband,

Matthew.

And it is

clear that

Catherine had

an equally

hospitable

soul.

Even when she

didn't see eye

to eye

theologically with

another, this

was to her

no disqualifier

for showing

them charity

and kindness.

This is

Melchior

Hoffman

there, who

is kind of a

fringe figure,

and indeed

neither this

radical fringe

figure of

Melchior

Hoffman.

When he was

imprisoned in

Strasbourg, it

was Catherine

who visited

him and

showed him

kindness,

never neglecting

neighborliness

despite doctrinal

disagreements.

Melchior

Hoffman had

come to

Strasbourg

because of a

prophecy that

he would be

imprisoned there

for six months

and then at

the coming of

the Lord would

lead the

144,000 saints

in a slaughter

of the ungodly.

So a fringe

figure.

Only the first

part of that

prophecy came

true.

He was indeed

imprisoned in

Strasbourg and

that was only

partially fulfilled

for he languished

in prison there

not for six

months but for

ten years

until his

death.

But we

find

recurring

again and

again in

the council

records this

entry in

their book.

Mrs.

Zell granted

permission to

visit a poor

prisoner under

sentence of

death.

No one

else visited

him.

In 1548

her faithful

friend and

companion of

25 years,

her husband,

whom she had

helped so

well, bid

her a final

farewell.

After

Gusser

delivered the

eulogy,

Catherine

delivered an

address.

Women

in that

day and

the incident

incited the

allegation that

she aspired to

a preaching

post in the

city.

Dr.

Katarina,

some dubbed

her disapprovingly.

Well, she

fired back,

I am not

usurping the

office of a

preacher or an

apostle, she

insisted.

I am like

the dear

Mary Magdalene

who has

not thought

of being an

apostle,

who without,

sorry, who

with no

thought of

being an

apostle,

came to

tell the

disciples that

she had

encountered

the risen

Lord.

Catherine

made it

through the

immediate

aftermath of

her husband's

death, but

shortly

thereafter she

collapsed.

Her friends

persuaded her to

take a break,

to get away from

Strasbourg and

for some rest

and restoration

and Basel was

suggested.

And Busser

knew a

pastor there,

Oswald

Myconius,

and wrote to

him to receive

her.

Here is,

there's Oswald

Myconius there.

So Busser

writes to

him, his

reforming

pastor friend,

the widow

of our

wonderful

cell, a

godly and

saintly woman

comes to

you that

perchance she

may find some

solace for her

grief.

She is human,

I suppose with

her achievements

some doubted

this.

How does the

heavenly father

humble those

endowed with

the greatest of

gifts?

Her zeal is

incredible for

Christ's lowliest

and afflicted.

She knows

and searches

the mysteries

of Christ.

Comfort her

patiently for

the love of

her husband,

a sincere and

faithful servant

of Christ.

From Basel,

Katharina went

to Zurich for

a visit in the

home of the

eminent Hebraist

Conrad Pelican.

There is

Conrad Pelican.

Her thank you

note after

staying with

Pelican,

with the

Pelicans,

along with a

very nice

gift.

I am sending

your wife and

your daughter-in-law

each a pound of

flax for spinning

shawls.

Reported

the,

her concern

with the

introduction of

the interim

compromise into

Strasbourg.

So as battle

between the

Protestants,

literal,

literal warfare

between the

Protestants and

the Catholics

kept unfolding

across Europe.

The upper hand

went to the

Catholics at this

time and

they imposed

an interim

compromise

into Strasbourg.

We do not

know what

is in store

for us in

Strasbourg.

She was

relieved,

however,

that she was

not evicted

from her home,

but if it

would be so,

she had

another dwelling

place.

She writes,

I have been

allowed to

keep the

parsonage.

I take

anyone who

comes,

it is always

full.

I don't

know how

long I

can keep

it.

One thing

have I

desired of

the Lord,

that will

I seek

after,

that I

may dwell

in the

house of

the Lord,

to behold

my noble

husband and

all the

saints in

the vision

of God

and Christ.

Well,

this

Catholic

enforced

interim,

which

concerned

Catherine,

meant

exile for

two of

Strasbourg's

eminent

ministers,

Busser and

Faggius,

and actually

there were

three,

also Vermilli,

Peter Martyr

Vermilli.

They were

determined to

immigrate to

England,

but couldn't

quite pack up

all the kids

and the crates

in the time

that they were

allotted.

They had a

very specific

time allotted

that they were

allowed to get

out.

so they

overstayed

their immunity

to arrest

by a

hazardous

three weeks.

And remember,

once their

time was up,

anybody was

free to

take their

life.

So very,

very dangerous.

So during

this time of

three weeks,

Catherine

managed to

hide them

in different

places.

And she

certainly knew

all of the

places that

you could

stuff people

in Strasbourg

from the

refugee crisis,

her refugee

placement program.

Well,

when they

finally got

off safely,

they left

her two

gold pieces

out of

gratitude.

She wrote

back,

you put

me to

shame to

think that

you would

leave money

for me as

if I would

take a

heller from

you poor

pilgrims,

a penny.

My

reverend

ministers,

I wish

I could

have done

better for

you,

but my

Matthew

has taken

all of

my gaiety

with him.

I intended

to return

the two

gold pieces

with this

letter as

Joseph put

the money

in the

sack of

his brother,

but a

refugee

minister

has just

come in

with five

children and

the wife

of another

who saw

her husband

beheaded

before her

eyes.

I divided

the one

gold piece

between

them as

a present

from you,

the other

eye

enclose.

You will

doubtless

need it.

So Catherine

was now

60 years

old and

her health

began to

fail,

but her

indomitable

zeal did

not flag.

In 1558,

one of the

chief magistrates

of Strasbourg,

Felix Ambrosioter,

was stricken

with a

dreaded

leprosy

and

consequently

quarantined

in a little

hut beyond

the city

walls.

They would

separate you

way away

from any

society

at all.

Not even

his family

were given

leave to

attend to

him.

No one

dared to

relieve his

utter

isolation.

They were

so afraid

of

contagion

except

one,

Catherine.

She

visited him

frequently

and even

wrote for

his

consolation

a little

treatise.

Here's

how it

begins.

My dear

Lord Felix,

since we

have known

each other

for a

full 30

years,

I am

moved to

visit you

in your

long and

frightful

illness.

I have

not been

able to

come as

often as

I would

like because

of the

load here

for the

poor and

the sick,

but you

have ever

been in

my thoughts.

We have

often talked

of how you

have been

stricken,

cut off

from rank

office,

from your

wife and

friends,

from all

dealings with

the world

which recoils

from your

loathsome

disease and

leaves you

in utter

loneliness.

At first

you were

bitter and

utterly cast

down,

till God

gave you

strength and

patience,

and now you

are able to

thank him

that out of

love he has

taught you to

bear the

cross.

Because I

know that your

illness weighs

upon you

daily and

may easily

cause you

again to

fall into

despair and

rebelliousness,

I have

gathered some

passages which

may make your

yoke light in

spirit,

though not in

the flesh.

love he has

done.

She takes the

lonely yet

loved leper

through various

verses with

her comforting

comments for

his meditation.

Catherine also

sought to care

for a nephew

who was plagued

with syphilis.

In fact, to

this end, she

temporarily moved

into the

institution in

which he was

being treated.

and no

sooner had

Catherine moved

in than the

gifted administrator

in her discern

numerous changes

that were

absolutely needed.

She shot off a

letter to the

town council

and in it

she writes,

the manager

and his wife

live in luxury

and neglect

the patients.

beds rot,

water is not

heated for

baths,

tough,

and sometimes

wormy meat

is served

indiscriminately,

whereas some

require a

soft diet.

There is no

religious instruction

and some

patients do not

even know

the Lord's

prayer.

The manager

grumbles a

grace so that

one cannot tell

whether he

might not be

swearing.

The mercury

cure martyrs

the patients.

There should be

a dedicated

couple in

charge.

The number

of maids

should be

reduced.

The fewer,

the less

quarreling.

Get rid of

the savage

dog which

mangles all

the cats.

Give up

swine and

goats in

favor of a

hundred hens.

Have religious

instruction every

morning while the

heart is fresh.

For medication,

use only

goyak.

Whatever that

is.

Well, it was

obvious that

Catherine knew

just how to

run that

place and

her

recommendations

were adopted

in toto,

much to the

relief of the

grateful

patients.

Not only

elemasinary but

also educational

efforts animated

Catherine.

Early, while her

husband was still

living, and

Matthew

incidentally

shared her

concern for

popular education

composing two

simple catechisms

for children,

Catalina issued

a collection of

hymns sold in

four little

pamphlets for

a penny a

piece to

ensure wide

circulation.

Very, very

cheap for that

day.

A heller.

In the

preface,

Catherine wrote,

when I read

these hymns, I

felt that the

writer had the

whole Bible in

his heart.

This is not

just a hymn

book, but a

lesson book of

prayer and

praise.

When so many

filthy songs are

on the lips of

men and women

and even

children, I

think it well

that folk

should, with

lusty zeal and

clear voice, sing

the songs of

their salvation.

God is glad

when the

craftsman at

his bench, the

maid at the

sink, the

farmer at the

plow, the

dresser at the

vines, the

mother at the

cradle, break

forth in hymns

of prayer, praise,

and instruction.

Well, when the

interim ended in

the situation in

Strasbourg, in

her mind, scarcely

improved, at

least from her

point of view, for

the city then came

to be dominated by

stridently doctrinaire

Lutherans, zealous

to discern and

denounce the

slightest dogmatic

deviance from

their own narrow

creed.

once during a

Christmas sermon,

one of the most

rabid of them

all, his name

was actually

Ludwig Rabus, he

digressed from his

edifying text and

descended into

unedifying railing

against Schwenkfeld

by slandering him

as Stinkfeld, that

emissary from

Satan.

It was so that you

can kind of pun on

his name and make

it sound a lot

like a stinking

manure field.

So, in those days

they were no

strangers to

lampoon.

Well, Catherine

considered this

bereft of charity

and she

remonstrated with

Rabus in

private.

For this private

rebuke, Rabus

called Catherine a

disturber of the

peace.

But with this, he

seemed to have

tripped a wire and

she gave him a

peace of her mind.

And I certainly

think he had it

coming.

A disturber of

the peace am I.

Yes, indeed, my

own peace.

Do you call this

disturbing the peace?

That instead of

spending my time in

frivolous amusements,

I have visited the

plague infested and

carried out the

dead.

I have visited those

in prison and under

sentence of death,

often for three days

and three nights.

I have neither eaten

nor slept.

I have neither mounted

the pulpit.

I have never mounted

the pulpit, but I

have done more than

any minister in

visiting those in

misery.

Is this disturbing the

peace of the church?

Why do you rail at

Schwenkfeld?

You talk as if you

would have him burned

like poor Servetus in

Geneva.

You say that you have

left Strasbourg and

gone to Ulm because the

ministers here are too

lenient toward the

Schwenkfelders, the

Zviglians, or the

Anabaptists.

You behave as if you

have been brought up by

savages in a jungle.

The Anabaptists are

pursued as by a hunter

with dogs chasing wild

boars.

Yet the Anabaptists

accept Christ in all

essentials as we do.

They have borne witness

to their faith in

misery, prison, fire,

and water.

You young fellows tread

on the graves of the

first fathers of this

church in Strasbourg and

punish all who disagree

with you, but faith

cannot be forced.

You say that Strasbourg,

by her laxity, is a shame

and a scorn to all

Germany.

Not yet, my dear fellow.

She is rather an

example of mercy and

compassion.

My Matthew testified in

private, and from the

pulpit also, that he

would not be guilty of

the crucifixion of these

poor folk.

The good Samaritan, when

he came upon the man who

had fallen among thieves,

did not ask him to what

denomination he belonged,

but put him on his ass

and took him to an inn.

Remember the words of the

Lord Jesus, I am meek and

lowly of heart.

Well, Catherine's last

service was to a disciple

of Schwenkfeld, the wife

of a distinguished

physician.

On her death, the husband

asked if one of the

pastors would conduct the

funeral.

Only on the understanding

that I will declare her to

have fallen away from the

faith, came the reply.

Well, the husband sadly

declined and planned the

service-less internment at

6 a.m.

when none would notice.

Well, somehow Catherine

heard.

Too weak now to walk, she

had a carriage bring her to

the spot at that hour and

herself conducted the

service.

The town council, hearing of

the act, decreed that if

Catherine got well, she

should be reprimanded.

Well, the reprimand, that

reprimand was never given.

Indeed, perhaps the reverse

was given her.

For shortly after that, she

died in her 64th year, 16,

sorry, 1562, leaving behind

her, in many, a memory of a

strong and sweet savor of her

savior.

She had welcomed the

stranger, comforted the

sorrowful, befriended the

lonely, allayed the wounds of

the suffering.

Her gospel wells ran deep, and

out of them she drew to

refresh many.

Her life was a veritable

orchard of the fruits of the

spirit.

Oh, God, to raise up more

Catherine Zell among us.

Well, I have another profile

that I'd like to hit, but I

wondered if you, we may take

a few minutes if you had any

questions about Catherine Zell,

and then I'm going to finish up

some of the time that we have.

Do we still have a little

time?

Okay.

Or would you like me just to

go on, and then we can ask

questions about both?

Strasburg was German at this

time?

Yes.

Yes, exactly.

German speaking.

All right, I'll go on, and then

we can ask them.

Oh, that was, that was, there's

Schwenkfeld, there's Schwenkfeld.

Vibrondus Rosenblatt.

Surely, one of the most inside

views of the Reformation would

have to have been that possessed

by the much married Vibrondus

Rosenblatt.

For in her matrimonial migrations,

she would be the wife for,

she would be the wife successively

of three of the principal leaders

of the Reformation.

Vibrondus was born at Basel in 1504.

1504.

There's Basel in the time.

Ironically, she was named after

the remains of a saint, Vibrondus,

which lay in the altar of the

Basel Cathedral, from which very

pulpit, one of her future husbands

would denounce such relic-revering

practices as being named after the

relic of a saint.

Not quite 20, she was married to the

esteemed Basel humanist, Ludwig Keller.

Among the several things Keller must

have liked in his new wife was her

name, for he decided to call the

daughter that she bore him by that

very name, Vibrondus II.

The first marriage proved short, for

her husband died only two years after

their marriage, leaving Vibrondus a widow

with child at 22 years old.

Her consequent availability proved a

happy circumstance for a certain Basel

bachelor.

It was unlikely that she would not have

noticed him in the city, for his post as

principal preacher would have rendered him

as prominent as his pendulous promontory

of a nose.

Look at that guy.

Wow.

Gaunt, stooped, ill-nourished.

He appeared to some as a mere sack of bones

and friends of the gospel feared that he

might, that they might lose him to the

cause unless there would be someone to

feed him some square meals and tell him

when to blow out his candle for the

night.

Concern was heightened now that his

mother, who had tried to perform that

role for him, had died, leaving him to

fend for himself and to take care of his

aged father.

His old friend, Wolfgang Capito, who we

saw before, wrote to prompt him,

Marriage is honorable and especially for a

Christian pastor.

If a suitable person is pointed out to you,

I think you should not decline.

To have a mate of like zeal will be a

glory to the Lord.

Then wondering if the old bachelor might

be inadequately discriminating, added,

but there is no greater cross than to be

married to a daughter of Belial.

So watch out for that, gentlemen.

Seeking to allay his fears, Ucullumpadius,

so that's who that is, Ucullumpadius.

That's kind of a, that's a aggressor-sized

version of his German name, Hauschein or

Hauslamp.

So Ucullumpadius is Latin for, sorry,

Greek for Hauslamp.

He replied, don't worry about my

marrying.

Either I will find a Christian sister like

Monica, that's the mother of Augustine,

like Monica, or I'll remain unmarried.

Such a woman is a rare bird, but perhaps

one can be netted.

Well, he found in Vibrondus a Monica-like

sister and netted her March 15th, 1528.

She was 24.

He was 45.

Some thought them ill-matched, focusing on

the physical.

One commented uncharitably, a decrepit

old man with trembling head and body,

so emaciated and wasted that you might

well call him a living corpse, has

married an elegant and blooming girl of

20, more or less.

Erasmus teased that it was a rather

indulgent thing to do for Lent, scarcely

castigating the flesh to take a 20-year-old

wife.

But Ucullumpadius had not netted her for

form or face, but for her faith.

He wrote to Pharrell,

The Lord has given me a sister and wife.

She is well-versed in the knowledge of

Christ, with several years' experience of

bearing the cross.

And before long, she was also bearing a

son, Eusebius, born on Christmas Eve, 1528.

It would be an eventful year for the Ucullumpadiuses, for the

arrival of their first coincided with the dramatic crescendo of the

Reformation surge in the city, the storming of the cathedral and the

bonfire of the vanities.

Happily, their new baby was not colic.

Eusebius, reported Ucullumpadius, is a gentle and quiet child, unless hungry, thirsty, or in

need of a change.

But the father also noted, he is very subject to colds and coughing, and I fear he will

not live long.

He would live only to 13 years old.

Other children came, two daughters, whom they named Alethea, Truth, and Irene, Peace.

Vibrondus, her ever-burgeoning home, was constantly the site of hospitality, offered to many of the

leaders of the Reformation.

Zwingli visited, and Wolfgang Capito sampled her cooking, little knowing that in the future

he would enjoy a good bit more of it.

Even Servetus dropped by.

Soon, Vibrondus was exchanging letters with Anna Zwingli, Agnes Capito, Elizabeth Busser.

When in 1531, Zwingli died upon the field of Capel, Ucullumpadius was invited to Zurich

to replace the fallen leader.

He declined, probably sensing that for him the sands were low.

And indeed, in a month, he followed his friend to the grave.

So Vibrondus was thus at 26, for the second time a widow, now with four small children.

That very month, in Strasbourg, Capito's wife, Agnes, was taken.

And Busser, you remember, who was always active in finding wives for his colleagues, cast his

eye about for a new wife for the widower, fearing that, given Capito's inclination to depression,

the bitter loss would take a devastating toll.

He didn't have to look very far.

He revealed to a friend his matchmaking ambition.

My choice for Capito is the widow of Ucullumpadius.

And it seemed Capito already had Vibrondus on his mind, feeling for her loss.

He, referring to Capito, Capito writes me that he has been very touched by the sight of the

widow Vibrondus and all her orphaned children.

Busser proposed to Capito that a trip would do him good and suggested the beautiful city

of Basel.

Why, you could drop in on the widow Vibrondus while you're there and offer her some comfort.

Capito thought the trip a fine idea.

When he arrived at Basel, he offered Vibrondus more than comfort.

He offered her his hand.

Oh, my, here is, there is Wolfgang Capito, her next husband.

Um, uh, they were married on August 11th, 1532, much to the glee and satisfaction of Busser.

Uh, of course, when Capito returned with his new wife, the family included the four children

and Vibrondus' mother.

Okay.

So she, remember she had, she had children from first marriage, Keller.

She had, uh, two from, uh, uh, then she had Aletha.

So Eusebius, Irena, and Alethea from Ucculumpadius.

So those four, uh, Vibrondus slotted into the new routine quite easily as her new husband's

life, uh, scarcely differed from that of her late husband, both being pastor professors.

Uh, the daily round she took in stride.

Her energies were strained, however, by keeping the cradle full.

To Capito, she bore five more children.

Um, her good friend in Strasbourg, Elizabeth Busser, had born her husband, Martin, 13 children.

Uh, those after church picnics must've been pretty lively when both the Capitos and the

Bussers showed up in full strength.

Uh, but in 1541, the plague struck Strasbourg, claiming 3,200 lives across the city.

At the Busser household, only one child of the 13 survived the deadly scourge.

Uh, Nathaniel, the one that survived, was a severely mentally and physically handicapped

son.

And Elizabeth herself was taken.

Uh, she might have saved her life had she left the city at the outbreak of the epidemic.

But her husband, Martin Busser, would not leave his flock and she would not leave her husband.

In the Capito household, the plague took Eusebius, the son of Vibrondus by Ocolampadius and Dorothea

and Wolfgang and Christoph, uh, two of her other children by Capito and Capito himself.

So Vibrondus was again widowed with four surviving children and an aged mother.

She's 47 now.

As Elizabeth Busser lay stricken, it's hard to keep all these names.

Elizabeth Busser lay stricken on her deathbed with the plague.

Catherine Sell came to bring the news of Wolfgang Capito's death.

Elizabeth, aware that for her, the bell would shortly toll, asked her husband, Martin Busser,

to take the place of his colleague Capito by taking the widowed Vibrondus to be his wife.

Now, Busser answered only by tears.

I mean, his wife's not even dead yet and she's arranging for the next, the next wife.

Uh, yet Elizabeth insisted and sent for Vibrondus who, having been only just widowed the night

before, hesitated to be seen in public by day.

She came by night and received Elizabeth's dying plea to care for her husband as his wife

when she died.

The wish of Elizabeth was fulfilled.

In April 1542, Vibrondus took her place beside Martin Busser as his wife, he being her fourth husband.

So there's Martin Busser.

That's her husband now.

Vibrondus proved a good wife to Busser.

He wrote to a friend,

I only hope I can be as kind to my new wife as she is to me,

but oh for the pang for the one that I have lost.

The new Busser household, though sorely reduced by the plague, was still not small.

And Vibrondus certainly had her hands full.

So Busser had a surviving son.

Vibrondus brought her mother and four children, making for a family of eight, along with Vibrondus'

mother and Busser's father with his father's second wife.

So a lot of, a lot of ages.

And soon more children arrived to the new couple.

Though they were now at double digits of kids, they decided to augment their brood still further

through adoption.

They adopted a niece of Vibrondus, Margareta Rosenblatt.

So it must have felt like a Sunday school when they all gathered around the table.

Before and after every meal, Busser would read a chapter from scripture, followed by comment.

Said one lodger,

I always went away from this table more instructed, with doubts dissolved and confusion clarified.

I find myself wondering how Busser was able to get so much done in his life, in the midst of this nursery of little needy ones.

There's indication that he managed by staying up the balance of the night.

An Italian immigrant who stayed in the Busser household for 17 days recalled of Busser,

he devotes his nights to study and prayer, and I have never awakened to find, without finding him still up.

It's probably what made him so susceptible to plague is they were sleep deprived too.

Not a helpful thing.

But even if we imagine Busser helping with a burgeoning brood, went around during the day,

there were plenty of seasons when he was not around,

and Vibrondus had to hold down the fort without him.

On one occasion, Busser was away on a trip for an entire year.

She did, of course, have a mother to help out,

but not infrequently she, being well advanced in years, required more help than she could offer.

In February 1548, a friend wrote,

Another long absence came when Busser was called away to England

to fill the Regis professorship at Cambridge of theology.

He went out ahead and hoped Vibrondus and the family would join him once he was settled into a home.

She must have been quite secure in their relationship,

along with a possession of a robust humor,

for her old friend, who was with Busser in England, wrote to her teasingly,

You'd better come to care for Busser, else he might marry someone else.

The Duchess of Suffolk would have him in a moment.

She is a widow.

Well, whatever were the hopes of the Duchess of Suffolk, it is clear what Busser wanted.

He wrote expressing the hope that she might join him soon.

How I'd love to have you here, but we are in the Lord's hands.

While it is obvious that it was Vibrondus he missed,

it was also evident that he missed all the practical ways in which she took care of him,

for he was not managing too well on his own.

At the end of his plea for her to join him, he adds,

But if you cannot come, I wonder if a trusty brother and his wife might come and cook for me

and look after the house.

You know what kind of a housekeeper I am.

If I could have that hope, I could the better spare you until the times improve,

but I am in the Lord's hands.

His final PS was a request for certain books she might obtain for him.

Thus, Vibrondus also acted as a book agent, it seems.

It was not easy for Busser to be away from his family.

Truly, it is no light cross to give up one's own household, he wrote.

But before too long, she was restored to her husband's side,

making the trip to England with an advanced contingent to the family.

Surveying the scene, she decided to return for the rest of the family,

leaving Agnes Capito, that is, daughter by her third husband,

to look after her fourth husband.

She got back to Strasbourg to find that the Catholic authorities

were trying to confiscate their property.

Vibrondus was summoned to appear in court.

We have a hint as to her plucky nature from this incident.

It seems one of the local friends, Sol,

was concerned that Vibrondus would give the magistrates a piece of her mind

over their injustice.

She wrote to Busser,

Sol confided in me his fear that if I appeared in court,

I would say something hot,

and indeed I might certainly have done so.

Instead of appearing in court,

she had the fine idea of a relaxing visit in a spa.

They did have spas back in those days.

It seems hot spring spas were a favorite retreat

for the fast-paced Busser household,

for Martin fantasized over his German thermal baths more than once

during the cold, wet winters in Cambridge.

While refreshed from her spa tune-up,

Vibrondus packed up the rest of the family,

grandma and all,

and made the journey back to England.

But scarcely had she finally arrived

when Busser fell ill.

Vibrondus, in caring for her husband,

grew so exhausted herself,

she remembered that teasing about

an admiring Duchess of Suffolk

and actually asked her

if she would be willing to help relieve her

of her incessant nursing

through the final stages of Busser's illness.

The Duchess cordially obliged

and by taking part of the load

probably saved Vibrondus a breakdown.

With her husband gone,

there was no reason for her to remain a foreigner in England,

so she worked on getting the whole family back to Strasbourg.

But alas, money was lacking,

and she had to appeal to Cranmer,

Thomas Cranmer,

the Archbishop of Canterbury's kindness,

to help them get home.

This he gladly did.

She did leave the Archbishop Busser's books.

What was left of them,

Cranmer complains in a letter

that I think the Duchess got them all.