(October 1, 1746\u2013October 1, 1807), was an American clergyman, soldier and politician. In 1774, being 30\u2013years-old, he was a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses and a pastor. He was the son of Henry Melchior Muhlenberg, one of the founders of the Lutheran Church in America.<\/p>\n
In 1775, John Peter Muhlenburg preached a message on Ecclesiastes 3:1, \u201cFor everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.\u201d He closed his message by saying:<\/p>\n
In the language of the Holy Writ, there is a time for all things. There is a time to preach and a time to fight. And now is the time to fight.1340<\/p>\n
He then threw off his clerical robes to reveal the uniform of an officer in the Continental Army. That afternoon, at the head of 300 men, he marched off to join General Washington\u2019s troops. He became Colonel of the 8th Virginia Regiment and served until the end of the war, being promoted to the rank of Major-General.<\/p>\n
John Peter Muhlenburg became the Vice-President of Pennsylvania, 1785; a member of the Pennsylvania Constitutional Convention, 1790; a U.S. Representative from Pennsylvania; and a U.S. Senator, 1801. In 1889, Pennsylvania chose his statue to represent their State in the Statuary Hall at Washington, D.C.1341<\/p>\n
John Peter Gabriel Muhlenburg was memorialized in a poem written by Thomas Buchanan Read, entitled \u201cThe Rising,\u201d which is included in William Holmes McGuffey Fifth Eclectic Reader<\/i> (Cincinnati and New York: Van Antwerp, Bragg & Co., revised edition, 1879), lesson LXV, pp. 200\u2013204:<\/p>\n
Out of the North the wild news came,<\/p>\n
Far flashing on its wings of flame<\/p>\n
Swift as the boreal light which flies<\/p>\n
At midnight through the startled skies.<\/p>\n
And there was tumult in the air,<\/p>\n
The fife\u2019s shrill note, the drum\u2019s loud beat,<\/p>\n
And through the wide land every-where<\/p>\n
The answering tread of hurrying feet.<\/p>\n
While the first oath of Freedom\u2019s gun<\/p>\n
Came on the blast from Lexington,<\/p>\n
And Concord, roused, no longer tame,<\/p>\n
Forgot her old baptismal name,<\/p>\n
Made bare her patriot arm of power,<\/p>\n
And swelled the discord of the hour.<\/p>\n
The yeoman and the yeoman\u2019s son,<\/p>\n
With knitted brows and sturdy dint,<\/p>\n
Renewed the polish of each gun,<\/p>\n
Re-oiled the lock, reset the flint;<\/p>\n
And oft the maid and matron there,<\/p>\n
While kneeling in the firelight glare,<\/p>\n
Long poured, with half-suspended breath,<\/p>\n
The lead into the molds of death.<\/p>\n
The hands by Heaven made silken soft<\/p>\n
To soothe the brow of love or pain,<\/p>\n
Alas! are dulled and soiled too oft<\/p>\n
By some unhallowed earthly stain;<\/p>\n
But under the celestial bound<\/p>\n
No nobler picture can be found<\/p>\n
Than woman, brave in word and deed,<\/p>\n
Thus serving in her nation\u2019s need:<\/p>\n
Her love is with her country now,<\/p>\n
Her hand is on the aching brow.<\/p>\n
Within its shade of elm and oak<\/p>\n
The church of Berkley Manor stood:<\/p>\n
There Sunday found the rural folk,<\/p>\n
And some esteemed of gentle blood.<\/p>\n
In vain their feet with loitering tread<\/p>\n
Passed \u2019mid the graves where rank is naught:<\/p>\n
All could not read the lesson taught<\/p>\n
In that republic of the dead.<\/p>\n
The pastor rose: the prayer was strong;<\/p>\n
The psalm was warrior David\u2019s song;<\/p>\n
The text, a few short words of might,-<\/p>\n
\u201cThe Lord of Hosts shall arm the right!\u201d<\/p>\n
He spoke of wrongs too long endured,<\/p>\n
Of sacred rights to be secured;<\/p>\n
Then from his patriot tongue of flame<\/p>\n
The startling words for Freedom came.<\/p>\n
The stirring sentences he spake<\/p>\n
Compelled the heart to glow or quake,<\/p>\n
And, rising on his theme\u2019s broad wing,<\/p>\n
And grasping in his nervous hand<\/p>\n
The imaginary battle-brand,<\/p>\n
In face of death he dared to fling<\/p>\n
Defiance to a tyrant king.<\/p>\n
Even as he spoke, his frame renewed<\/p>\n
In eloquence of attitude,<\/p>\n
Rose, as it seemed, a shoulder higher;<\/p>\n
Then swept his kindling glance of fire<\/p>\n
From startled pew to breathless choir;<\/p>\n
When suddenly his mantle wide<\/p>\n
His hands impatient flung aside,<\/p>\n
And, lo! He met their wondering eyes<\/p>\n
Complete in all a warrior\u2019s guise.<\/p>\n
A moment there was awful pause,-<\/p>\n
When Berkley cried, \u201cCease, traitor! Cease!<\/p>\n
God\u2019s temple is the house of peace!\u201d<\/p>\n
The other shouted, \u201cNay, not so,<\/p>\n
When God is with our righteous cause:<\/p>\n
His holiest places then are ours,<\/p>\n
His temples are our forts and towers<\/p>\n
That frown upon the tyrant foe:<\/p>\n
In this the dawn of Freedom\u2019s day<\/p>\n
There is a time to fight and pray!\u201d<\/p>\n
And now before the open door\u2014<\/p>\n
The warrior priest had ordered so\u2014<\/p>\n
The enlisting trumpet\u2019s sudden soar<\/p>\n
Rang through the chapel, o\u2019er and o\u2019er,<\/p>\n
Its long reverberating blow,<\/p>\n
So loud and clear, it seemed the ear<\/p>\n
Of dusty death must wake and hear.<\/p>\n
And there the startling drum and fife<\/p>\n
Fired the living with fiercer life;<\/p>\n
While overhead with wild increase,<\/p>\n
Forgetting its ancient toll of peace,<\/p>\n
The great bell swung as ne\u2019er before:<\/p>\n
It seemed as it would never cease;<\/p>\n
And every word its ardor flung<\/p>\n
From off its jubilant iron tongue<\/p>\n
Was, \u201cWar! War! War!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho dares\u201d\u2014this was the patriot\u2019s cry,<\/p>\n
As striding from the desk he came –<\/p>\n
\u201cCome out with me, in Freedom\u2019s name,<\/p>\n
For her to live, for her to die?\u201d<\/p>\n
A hundred hands flung up reply,<\/p>\n
A hundred voices answered \u201cI!\u201d1342<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
(October 1, 1746\u2013October 1, 1807), was an American clergyman, soldier and politician. In 1774, being 30\u2013years-old, he was a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses and a pastor. He was the son of Henry Melchior Muhlenberg, one of the founders of the Lutheran Church in America. In 1775, John Peter Muhlenburg preached a message … Continue reading “MUHLENBERG,
\nJOHN PETER GABRIEL”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15687","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-sermons"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15687","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15687"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15687\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15687"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15687"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.biblia.work\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15687"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}