Jude 3 Project

Learning that Martin Luther met an Ethiopian deacon in 1534 is one thing. Telling it well is another. The companion article lays out the evidence: Luther’s long interest in Ethiopian Christianity, his meeting with a deacon named Michael, and the Africans who lived in sixteenth-century Europe. This guide asks what comes after. How should that history change the story of the faith you tell a child, a skeptical friend, a Bible study, or yourself? And how do you tell it so the African threads are accurate and not just flattering? You can work through it alone with a notebook, or with a group in one long session or two shorter ones. The practice in the middle needs paper and about twenty minutes.

Begin with the version you already carry

Before you read further, write down where your faith came from, the way you would tell it in two minutes. Don’t polish it. Write what you would actually say if someone asked.

Then read what you wrote and mark three things:

The century where your story begins.
Every named person in it, and where each one lived.
The point where Black people enter the story, if they do, and the role they play when they appear.

Many people find that their version starts in Europe or on a plantation. Lisa Fields held a similar picture before talking with church historian Dr. David D. Daniels III, and she described it candidly afterward: “when I’m thinking of Europe, I’m thinking of all white. And then if there were Africans there, they were slaves.” That is a default that gets handed down, not a confession of ignorance. Look at what the two common starting points share. Both assume Black people entered the story of the faith late, and entered it on the receiving end.

Daniels challenged that assumption directly when he described the order in which peoples came to the faith: “the Swedes come late, the British come late, the Germans come late. The Russians come late, but the Africans don’t.” Keep your marked-up page. You will rebuild it later.

Know what kind of claim each piece is

You can retell this history well only if you know what you are holding. Daniels sorted his own material carefully, and his sorting is worth copying.

Some of it is a documented event. In July 1534, Luther met Michael, a deacon of the Ethiopian church, talked with him about Christian doctrine, and wrote a letter commending him. Daniels said he did not think the meeting could be contested, and he noted that the letter is missing from the standard English translations of Luther’s works. He also described what Luther understood about the man in front of him: “he clearly realizes it’s a Church of black people.”

Some of it is what Luther believed, and part of that belief was wrong. Luther thought the Ethiopian church began in the first century, through the official baptized in Acts 8. Daniels noted that historians place the church’s arrival in Ethiopia around the fourth century. Luther also thought the Ethiopian church read Scripture in the common language of its people. Daniels corrected him plainly: “we now know it really wasn’t in the vernacular, but Luther thought it was in a vernacular.”

This detail matters for anyone retelling the story. Daniels placed Luther inside a European fascination with Ethiopia that reached back to the 1200s or 1300s, fed by legends of a pious emperor called Prester John, a large army and plenty of gold. Luther’s Ethiopia was partly a real church and partly an ideal he projected onto it. Being admired is not the same as being known. A retelling that only says Luther loved Ethiopia can repeat the projection without noticing. The stronger point is that a real Ethiopian clergyman sat across from Luther and described his own church, and Luther had to test his picture against a living person.

Then there is the historian’s larger argument: that this Ethiopian element means the Reformation was not purely a European product. Daniels labeled it himself: “this is my suggestion. This is my hunch. This is what I’m arguing for.” He even predicted that “a couple years later, people might say I’m overstating something. But that’s the fun of scholarship.” The obvious competing reading grants every fact above and still holds that the Reformation’s European context was decisive: the movement grew out of quarrels inside the Latin church, and Luther’s interest in Ethiopia shaped how he imagined the church without driving events. Daniels’s own wording leaves room for that reading. He described the link as “at least an intellectual exchange, even though it’s in Luther’s mind.” If you tell a child the hunch as settled fact, you have swapped one edited story for another.

Read the memory texts closely

Scripture has its own instructions for remembering. Psalm 78:4 says, “We will not hide them from their children, shewing to the generation to come the praises of the LORD, and his strength, and his wonderful works that he hath done.” Read the whole psalm before you claim this verse. Most of Psalm 78 is a long account of Israel’s forgetting and rebellion. The memory this psalm hands to children includes the unflattering parts. A faithful retelling is honest before it is inspiring.

Now read Acts 8:26-39 slowly. Acts 8:27 introduces “a man of Ethiopia, an eunuch of great authority under Candace queen of the Ethiopians.” Write down what the passage tells you about him before Philip arrives. He has already made the trip to Jerusalem to worship, and he is reading Isaiah on the road home. Then notice where the text stops. Acts 8:39 says only that “he went on his way rejoicing.” Luke describes one man’s baptism. He does not say what happened in Ethiopia afterward. Luther and some early historians filled in that silence with the founding of a national church. Acts 8 does establish an African believer in the first generation of the church. It does not, by itself, prove that the Ethiopian church began then.

Last, read Psalm 68:31: “Princes shall come out of Egypt; Ethiopia shall soon stretch out her hands unto God.” This is poetry, part of a picture of nations coming to honor Israel’s God. Christians have long read the line as a sign of Africa’s place in God’s purposes. That is a reasonable application, but it is an interpretation and should be held as one. For each of the three passages, write one sentence on how you could use it honestly in a retelling.

Whose story are you telling?

Black believers do not share a single origin story, and Daniels’s material shows several distinct threads. One is the ancient Ethiopian church. Another is the Kingdom of Kongo. Daniels said that before Portuguese colonialism, “the King of Congo embraces Christianity on his own there,” and he reported that the king’s son was consecrated a bishop by 1520. A third is Vicente Lusitano, an Afro-Portuguese priest who, by Daniels’s account, became a Protestant. A fourth is the group of Christians from Angola and Kongo among the enslaved Africans brought to the Americas. Daniels estimated they might have made up five to ten percent, and he traced them practicing the faith from Brazil to New York. He also added a counterweight: in Germany or Sweden at the time, you might find only one or two Africans in the whole country. In those places, the all-white picture was closer to the truth.

So a single congregation might hold people whose family memories run through very different routes. A retelling that flattens all of them into one story repeats the original mistake in a new direction.

Fields drew out one consequence: knowing that some Africans received Christianity freely, and not only under oppression, changes how we understand that era. Be exact about what this does and does not change. It does not erase the coercion, or the white-controlled Christianity many enslaved people first encountered. Those things happened. What it removes is the claim that the faith reached Africans only through that coercion. This history supports the claim that Christianity is not foreign to Africa and that following Jesus is not a betrayal of Black identity. It does so by separating the faith from the institutions that misused its language.

Be careful about one thing. The faith does not become true because Africans held it early. It rests on Christ, crucified and bodily risen, not on any people’s pedigree. This history answers a false objection. It does not supply a new foundation. Daniels pointed to a historian of Black religion, Gayraud Wilmore, who, as Daniels recalled it, revised his own book across editions so that it began with early African Christianity instead of with slavery in North America. That is the move this guide asks of you: change where the story starts because the evidence requires it, without making the story mean more than it does.

A practice: rebuild your story from the sources

Daniels named the method in one line: “we have to reframe the narrative, not by new interpretation, but by including more of the facts.” This practice applies it to your own two-minute story.

On a fresh page, draw three columns. Label them Documented event, Believed at the time and A historian’s argument.
Sort these items into the columns: Luther’s meeting with Michael and his letter of July 1534; Luther’s belief that the Ethiopian church began with the official in Acts 8; Daniels’s count of about 85 references to Ethiopia in Luther’s writings that have been translated into English; the Kongolese bishop by 1520, as Daniels reports it; and the claim that the Reformation had an African forerunner. Some items resist easy sorting. The Kongolese bishop is the clearest case. It is presented as an event, but here it reaches you only through Daniels’s spoken account, with no document in front of you, so it sits between the first and third columns. The count of 85 references is similar: the references exist, but the count is one scholar’s tally. Write down where you put such items and why.
Rewrite your two-minute story so that it includes at least two of these items. Each one should carry its honest label when you say it aloud, such as “Luther believed,” “a letter survives” or “one church historian argues.”
Read the new version aloud. Then test it with two questions. Did anything become more heroic than the record allows? Did any real pain from the old story quietly disappear?

In a group, have people do steps 1 and 2 in pairs and then compare their columns. Disagreement over where something belongs is useful, so ask each pair to explain their reasoning instead of looking for the right answer. Listen especially for how people handle the secondhand items. Expect some people to carry the white-man’s-religion objection as a wound and not as a debating point, because the Christianity they first met may have been controlled and self-serving. Let the new facts widen the picture without being used to correct anyone’s experience. No one should have to read their story aloud unless they choose to.

Questions for discussion

Your opening story and Fields’s earlier picture may share the assumption that Black people entered the faith late. Where did you pick up that assumption, and what has kept it in place?
Luther admired an Ethiopia that was partly real and partly imagined. When a powerful outsider admires a people, what does that do for them, and what does it cost? What should a retelling say about that?
Daniels called his larger argument a hunch still under debate. How would you tell a twelve-year-old something exciting and unsettled without overselling it or draining it of interest?
Which thread in this history sits closest to your family’s own story, and which feels most distant? Can you claim a thread you are not descended from? On what basis?
Psalm 78 tells children about their ancestors’ failures as well as God’s works. What failures, by anyone in this history, belong in an honest retelling?
If your faith rests on Christ and not on who held it first, what work is this history doing for you? Is that work legitimate, and where could it slide into something else?