I have spent most of last week in bed—or on the sofa—feeling sorry for myself. Why? Because I have been struck down by a bad case of flu, with fever, cough and a blinding headache. Problem with headache is that it makes it impossible to read. Or watch TV. So instead, I’ve listened to pods, and for some odd reason I have invested five hours of my life to do a deep dive into the life and beliefs of Martin Luther.
I’m not going to a bore you with a mini-bio of this rather remarkable, if not necessarily likeable, man. But with Luther come concepts such as free thought and individualism which undoubtedly have had a marked impact on our world. He challenged what he perceived as a church far too focused on grandeur and power, and in difference to men like Wycliffe and Huss, he actually survived, despite being excommunicated and, effectively, condemned to death. Why? Because many, many others were beginning to think like him. Plus, our Luther was an early adopter, markedly skilled at using new tech to spread his word far and wide. In his case, new tech was the printing press. . .
As he grew older, Luther was no longer quite as quick to encourage free interpretation of the scriptures. As a young monk he firmly believed that studying the scriptures sufficed to form a man’s conscience and help them be reborn as true Christians. As an older man, he worried that there were far too many interpretations of the Bible and was a firm advocate of his interpretation. Only his.
In Sweden, we became Lutherans in the early 16th century. In many ways far more rigid than the previous beliefs, the Swedish Lutheran Church tolerated no dissenters. None. Conventicle Acts were made law (Conventicle Acts forbid anyone not of the formal religion to convoke a religious meeting or offer religious rites, with severe consequences) and not until the 1870s did the Swedish Parliament revoke these laws. This didn’t stop people from listening to Baptist missionaries, Methodist missionaries, Mormon missionaries—and converting to these new faiths. But they had to do so in secret, and they had to continue attending the mandatory church services on Sunday.
Approximately a million Swedes left Sweden during the second half of the 19th century. They left after years of failed crops, they left due to poverty, they left due to religious persecution. Us Swedes are generally unaware of that last reason, maybe because in today’s Sweden we have a relatively relaxed approach to religion, so we find it hard to believe “our” church would have persecuted people for wanting to be Methodists. Or Anabaptists. But it did.
Close to our summer house, there is a place called “The Dead Village”. One day in the late 19th century, all the inhabitants packed up what little they had and left. Together, they walked all the way to Karlskrona and took ship to America. Yes, they left because they were sick and tired of the back-breaking work of clearing their little plots of stone, but primarily they left because of faith: they had all converted to Baptism.
All that stone that had to be cleared was used to build walls. All through the woods surrounding our country house run straight lines of endless stone walls, subdividing what is now mostly spruce into what was once pastures for goats and pigs. The walls are high and wide, and around our house they stand like impressive bulwarks, wide enough to walk on. I love those beautiful stone walls, but every single one of those stones has come from the surrounding fields, likely accompanied by a curse. “Not another stone!”
Obviously, when Luther banged up his ninety-five theses on the door of Wittenberg Cathedral (although it is not entirely certain he ever did that) he had no notion that he was effectively setting in motion a movement that would tear Christianity asunder and lead to Christians persecuting each other. But for centuries that is what happened: the Inquisition persecuted Protestants, Anglicans persecuted papists, Huguenots were massacred in France—and in Sweden, being a Baptist meant you had to choose: stay and pretend you were still a good Lutheran, or leave. For ever.
Edvard Petersen, EmigrantsSome of you may be wondering if I am planning on writing a book about Luther and his times, given the above. Nope, I’m not—but many of my books touch upon the complicated issue of faith. In The Graham Saga, my time travelling heroine, Alex, not only has to deal with having landed in the 17th century, but also with the consequences of falling in love with a Presbyterian who will find himself among the persecuted after the Restoration of Charles II. Faith remains a thorny issue even when they flee to Maryland, purportedly a place of toleration, but is it?
When it comes to my present writing, the issue of faith is rather the divide between the Christians of the kingdom of Castile and the Muslims of the Marinid kingdom. Complicated if, as my Alma, your ancestors were Muslim until Sevilla was conquered by the Castilians some eighty years earlier . . .
Actually, there is an element of faith in my other WIP as well (Remember I told you I am hopping back and forth between 14th century Castile and early 18th century Russia?) The Russians were pretty big on converting prisoners to their faith, and sometimes their methods were less than gentle . . . I now feel a sudden urge to expand into a discussion about the concept of predestination in Russian Orthodoxy, Presbyterianism and Islam but no, Anna, no! At least not this time.
Prior to my week listening to podcasts about Luther, I actually managed to get a lot of reading done. Some recommendations:
I have just finished reading Christina Courtenay’s Shadows in the Spring , a dual time-line novel set in Roman Britain and present day England. A perfect read when you want some romantic escapism, even if Ms Courtenay ensures to keep her readers on their toes with several plot-twists. Plus points for the elegant merging of the two time-lines!
Several months ago, I stumbled across A Proud Woman by Sarah F Noel. There is a lot in this book that annoys me: head-hopping, truncated sentences, but Ms Noel delivers wonderful characters, clever plots and a vibrant 1890s London setting, which is why I have now read ALL the books in the series. Yup, all of them.
Finally, I just have to give Tony Riches and his latest book a shout-out. Tony is working his way through history, the first book I read by him was about Eleanor Cobham, the disgraced wife of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, who was accused of being a witch in the early 15th century. Since then, Tony has written about the early Tudors (I warmly recommend Jasper ), gone on to write about the royal Tudors, first under Henry VIII (my favourite is Katherine, Tudor Duchess ), then under Elizabeth I’s reign. Now, he is rounding of his Tudor immersion with Bess- Tudor Gentlewoman before leaping forward into Stuart times.
Bess Throckmorton defies her notorious background and lack of education to become Queen Elizabeth’s Gentlewoman and trusted confidante.
Forced to choose between loyalty and love, duty and desire, will she risk her queen’s anger by marrying adventurer Sir Walter Raleigh without permission?
Entangled in a web of intrigue, from the glittering Palace of Whitehall to the cells of the Tower of London, Bess endures tragedy and injustice, becoming a resilient, determined woman, who takes nothing for granted.
Can she outwit her enemies, protect her family, and claim her destiny in a world where women are pawns and survival is a game of deadly consequences?
🇬🇧 https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0D46XQP59
🇺🇸 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D46XQP59
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And with that, dear peeps, I round off this newsletter. From the kitchen comes the promising smell of asparagus and salmon, and then I just have to go back to Alma who has just shared this with me:
The nuns of San Clemente were known for their excellent needlework, and Nuria had always been skilled with her needle. Alma listened idly as Nuria described her days, all the while counting days in her head. Si, she concluded—for the hundredth time that day—she was late. Not late enough to say anything to Rodrigo, but late enough that something fluttered deep within, tickling its way up her throat until it broke through in a smile.
Nuria frowned. “You find it amusing that our beloved abbess has died?”
Alma gave her a flustered look. “I was thinking of other matters.”
Have a great weekend!
Anna