This article by Ray Spitzenberger first appeared in IMAGES for September 30, 2021, East Bernard Express, East Bernard, Texas.
Martin Luther once said, “Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world. It controls our thoughts, minds, hearts, and spirits. . . . Our dear fathers and prophets did not desire without reason that music be always used in the churches.”
I begin my column with this quotation from Luther to perhaps indicate the reason why musical instruments, especially the organ (but also the violin), organists, cantors, and song leaders were of utmost importance in Lutheran church services (which traditionally were liturgical). Until recent times, the called “staff” for a Lutheran church included an organist and a cantor (who chanted the liturgy and led the singing) as well as a pastor. Often, because of financial necessity, the organist also served as cantor/song leader and parochial schoolteacher, and thus in many ways was as important as the pastor.
In the 1800’s, on the Texas frontier, Lutheran congregations often had to wait many years before they could afford a church organ. Yet the liturgical nature of their Divine Services required music, and so easier-to-access instruments were necessary to use. Although some early churches acquired the much cheaper piano, that was not the best instrument for the liturgy. For a number of reasons, the best choice was the violin. Of all the non-vocal instruments, the sound of the violin resembles the human voice most closely. No doubt that’s why our river, the San Bernard River, was known as “The Singing River,” — folks believed that our river as it neared the Gulf emitted violin-like sounds.
The descendants of Karl Teinert have passed on for many years a family story about this Wendish Lutheran organist and cantor bringing his violin with him on the Ben Nevis, a ship carrying Wendish emigrants to Texas in 1854. Karl Teinert had been organist, cantor, and carriage driver for Rev. Jan Kilian, helping him to serve parishes in Lusatia, the Wendish region in Saxony. Since Rev. Kilian served over 1,200 Wends scattered all over Lusatia, he had to have a coachman to drive him. Since a number of these parishes did not have a church, and because Lutheran worship required music, Pastor Kilian needed a musician to go with him to assist him with these services. Karl Teinert was a farmer in Lusatia, and, later, a cotton farmer in Serbin, Texas, and he felt very strongly God’s call for him to be an organist and a cantor.
When many folks in Lusatia, along with their pastor, Rev. Kilian, made the decision to emigrate to Texas in 1854, Karl Teinert was one of the leaders of that group and brought his violin with him on the ship. My friend, Arlene Teinert Wendt of Austin, Texas, who is Karl’s great great granddaughter, sent me photos of the violin family tradition says is the violin Karl played for Divine Worship at St. Paul Lutheran Church in Serbin, Texas, before the congregation had a pipe organ. In fact, chances are that Karl played the instrument in home services before even a log church was built. However, it is not absolutely certain this is the same violin.
After St. Paul’s beautiful stone church was built and a pipe organ installed, Arlene’s great great grandfather Karl played the pipe organ and served as cantor in it for many years. Until a fierce disagreement arose between the German members of the church and the Wendish members, the disagreement so severe that Rev. Kilian wanted to resign. You can see the incredible importance of music in Lutheran worship, because the disagreement was over the Wendish way of doing the liturgy and singing the hymns and the German way. For the early Wends, how you sang your praises and thanksgivings to God in His presence in His House was of utmost importance, not just a frivolous preference. It resulted in a split, with the German group organizing their own church down the road from Serbin, naming it St. Peter’s. Eventually Karl Teinert was instrumental in organizing another new church at New Start, five miles from Serbin.
Having just recently written about my wife’s family’s old violin, a story also set in Texas in the 1800’s, I am taken by the images of the elegance of both violins and their exquisite sounds appearing amidst the rugged rusticity of early Texas. And in the case of Karl’s violin, how the sweet, sacred sounds of the violin could be heard by parishioners in a small, humble log cabin. I believe, as Luther did, that music controls our thoughts, minds, hearts and spirits.
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Ray Spitzenberger is a retired WCJC teacher, a retired LCMS pastor, and the author of three books, It Must Be the Noodles, Open Prairies, and Tanka Schoen.