
How did a German church find its way to American shores at a time when Germans were hardly allies of the English? To answer that question, we must return to the shifting religious landscape of sixteenth-century Europe and to the court of the Palatinate.
When Frederick II became Elector of the Palatinate, he inherited a territory long governed by Roman Catholic rulers. Frederick himself remained Roman Catholic, but his successor, Otto Henry, embraced Lutheranism. That transition alone was enough to spark tension.
Otto Henry had been raised Roman Catholic, but he found the faith overly formalized. Within Lutheranism, he encountered further division. High Lutherans retained a liturgical style resembling Roman Catholic worship, differing primarily in theology. Another group followed Philip Melanchthon, whose services emphasized congregational participation in a way that feels strikingly modern. Melanchthon believed worship should actively involve the people.
As Elector, Otto Henry possessed the authority to determine the form and practice of religion within his territory. He decreed that the Palatinate Church would follow Melanchthon’s model. Yet the move did not bring peace. The Melanchthonian faction proved poorly organized, and internal disputes continued to fracture the Lutheran cause.
According to historian J. I. Good, Otto Henry believed his family line was somehow “unlucky,” a perception reinforced by persistent conflict and dynastic weakness. He had no heir, and after the death of his first wife, he chose not to remarry. Convinced that the Palatinate might fare better under new leadership, he searched among his relatives for a worthy successor.
He found one in Frederick III. Strong-willed, well educated, and decisive, Frederick was carefully trained by Otto Henry to assume leadership. Three years later, Otto Henry died and Frederick took his place.
Frederick III attempted, as his predecessor had, to unify the Lutherans. He failed. Unlike Otto Henry, however, Frederick was not Lutheran, but Reformed, in theology. Concluding that Lutheran unity was unattainable, he resolved to shift the Palatinate from Lutheranism to the Reformed faith. Such a transformation would require new pastors, new church officers, and instruction for congregations unfamiliar with Reformed doctrine. What Frederick needed was a concise, clear statement of faith.
In Heidelberg, the Palatinate’s capital, stood a respected university. Among its faculty was Caspar Olevianus, a scholar shaped by Geneva’s Reformation. Frederick also sought a German theologian firmly committed to Reformed teaching, and he found one in Zurich: Zacharias Ursinus. Bringing the two men together, Frederick commissioned them to compose a brief manual of the Christian faith in German—rooted in Scripture and designed to guide preaching and teaching throughout the church.
Their work, begun in 1559 and completed in 1563, became the Heidelberg Catechism. Frederick ensured its wide distribution: first to ministers and churches, then to teachers and officers, and finally to congregations themselves. The catechism soon extended beyond the German Reformed Church. It was also embraced by the Dutch Reformed Church and became one of the defining confessions of the Reformed tradition.
After Frederick III’s death, his son Frederick IV inherited the electorate. Unlike his father, he sought political reform through military strength rather than theological clarity. His efforts failed, and he eventually went into exile in the Netherlands, where family ties connected him to the Dutch court. There, alliances took shape. A marriage was arranged between his son, Frederick V, and Elizabeth Stuart, daughter of James I of England. Elizabeth bore thirteen children. Among them was another Elizabeth—Elizabeth of the Palatinate, a woman of formidable intellect.

Her brilliance attracted the attention of René Descartes, who regarded her as one of his most gifted students and dedicated a work to her. Eventually, Elizabeth sought her own path. In 1667, she became Abbess of Herford, a Protestant abbey, where she offered refuge and assistance to those displaced by war in the Palatinate.
During her earlier time at the University of Saumur, Elizabeth encountered William Penn, son of Admiral Sir William Penn of the English navy. Though raised in the Church of England, the younger Penn had become a Quaker—an affiliation that, under English law, could bring severe penalties. At one point, his father sent him to France for his safety.
Meanwhile, the English Crown found itself indebted. When Charles II needed funds to stabilize his reign, he borrowed heavily from Admiral Penn. Upon the admiral’s death, debts had to be settled, including the substantial sum owed by the king. Lacking ready money, Charles II repaid the debt with land in North America. “Sylvania” means forestland: thus the territory became known as Pennsylvania, or “Penn’s Woods.”
In 1677, Penn visited Elizabeth at Herford, hoping to persuade her to join the Quaker movement. He did not succeed. Yet Elizabeth reportedly inquired whether the refugees she aided might find a home in his American colony.

Penn’s Quaker convictions held that no one should be forbidden to worship God according to conscience. As a result, Pennsylvania became a haven for religious liberty. Among those welcomed were members of the German Reformed Church. They brought with them the Heidelberg Catechism, German Bibles, and German hymnals—planting Reformed theology firmly in American soil.
Thus, through dynastic change, theological controversy, royal debt, and a commitment to religious tolerance, a German confession crossed the Atlantic and took root in Pennsylvania.
Rev. Jay Fluck
Britt, Iowa

