George Blaurock

Jörg vom Haus Jacob, commonly known as George Blaurock (c. 1491 – September 6, 1529), along with Conrad Grebel an Felix Manz was co-founder of the Swiss Bretheren in Zürich and one of the founders of Anabaptism. George Blaurock was born in 1491 in Bonaduz in the Grisons, Switzerland. He was educated at the University of Leipzig and served as a priest of the Roman Catholic Church until his conversion to evangelical Anabaptism. Blaurock had evidently departed from the Catholic church before he arrived in Zürich circa 1524, for he had already taken a wife. Though he came to see Ulrich Zwingli, he soon became attached to the more radical followers of Zwingli. These radicals, as they came to be called, insisted on following only that which had Biblical support. They rejected the mass, images, and infant baptism. The city council condemned their position, ordered them to desist from their meetings, and ordered all unbaptized babies to be baptized within eight days. On January 21, 1525, the despondent group held a secret meeting at the home of Felix Manz. These believers went to their knees in prayer for guidance. Arising from the prayer, George Blaurock requested Conrad Grebel to baptize him upon a confession of faith in Christ. Grebel did so, and afterwards Blaurock proceeded to baptize the others who were present. George Blaurock worked closely with Felix Manz until Manz was martyred in Zürich on January 5, 1527. On that same day, Blaurock was severely beaten and permanently expelled from Zürich. He kept moving, laboring at Bern, Biel, the Grisons, and Appenzell. After his arrest and 4th banishment in April of 1527, Blaurock left Switzerland never to return. From here he turned to the Tyrol. In 1529 he became the pastor of the church in Adige Valley, after their former pastor, Michael Kürschner, was burned at the stake. Blaurock conducted a very successful ministry in Tyrol. Many believers were baptized and churches founded. In August he and Hans Langegger were arrested by Innsbruck authorities. While in captivity they were tortured for information. On September 6, 1529, Blaurock and Langegger were burned at the stake near Klausen. The only writings left by Blaurock were a letter and two hymns written during his last three weeks of life. The hymns are entitled Gott Führt Ein Recht Gericht (God Holds a Righteous Judgment) and Gott, dich will ich loben (God, You I Will Praise).

Jerry Nelson -- Memories of Working on The Radicals Was it really twenty years ago?...I look so young in all of the pictures…. where the hell did all of that gray hair and beard come from?....A better question might be “Where did all the hair go?”….Was I really only forty-one then?....To coin a phrase….’Seems like only yesterday’ I was standing in the holding area for extras under a humongous tent while wearing my back-at- home neighbor’s orange, insulated jump suit to keep from freezing my not-as-large-as-now butt off while exercising the authority vested in me by our producer, Robert Nowotny, and selecting extras for the upcoming battle scene which we were going to shoot in three feet of snow up on some soccer field in Switzerland. The director, Raul Carrera, would whisper in my ear as to whom or what he was looking for and then I was supposed to select his desire from the milling throng of over one hundred hopefuls. I felt a bit of a procurer. It was fun for only so long….having their cinematic fate in my hands. But as every student of history learns….Power corrupts….not to even mention the absolute aspect of my position. I began to think how I could augment my meager pay with an infusion of francs (this was way before the euro). After all, the exchange rate was five francs to the dollar….heady figures back when the dollar was worth something. Searching the innermost depths of my depraved person, I seized on the one thing I possessed which I felt every good Frenchman, German or Swiss would need….my recently purchased timepiece. Never mind this was the land of Swiss movements….I felt secure my genuine Japanese movement….aka Seiko….could hold it’s own. The real challenge was to find a likely buyer at 500 francs. I proudly held up the watch with it’s day-date window and it’s stainless link band glimmering in the sunlight reflected off the snow and announced in my best pidgin French, which I can no longer remember, what the deal was….no takers. I lowered the price by 100 francs….a few stares but still no one seemed too concerned with promptness. I was now down another hundred, asking only 300 francs….then 200. Still nothing. I swallowed my capitalistic American pride and announced the first person to offer up a 100 franc note would be the proud owner of this heirloom timepiece. I was letting it go for a measly twenty dollar bill. What was wrong with me? Was I becoming the greedy American? I could see my planned five day trip to England to visit friends was rapidly going down the toiletten. What was the matter with these people? What happened to “hands across the sea” and all that? Where was their compassion for my social life? I rather embarrassingly replaced the watch on my wrist and shoved it up under my sleeve in hopes my captive audience would soon forget my failed attempt at international commerce. I turned my attention to the really attractive blond about six deep from the front row and summoned her forward. It seems the director needed someone just like her about ten minutes ago. Oh, well. I hope she wasn’t too late. Did I mention my watch quite working about two weeks after returning to the U. S.?....something about snow rusting the movement. Even though I failed to supplement my income I did manage to finance a trip to England and back, taking a train all the way to Calais, then a ferry across the channel and another train to Southampton where I spent five days drying out from all the wine by drinking beer and eating fish and chips (sort of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?). I planned my return very carefully being sure to schedule the final train into Colmar in time to catch one of the last taxis of the night for the ninety minute drive to the hotel. I knew I would be arriving well after midnight so I got assurance from the hotel owner I would be able to get in the locked front door merely by using my room key, which, under normal circumstances, we were expected to leave in the hotel whenever we left. It’s two a.m. I’m dead tired after a full day to traveling, not to mention cold, as well. I paid the taxi driver the agreed upon off-the-meter fee of 200 francs (I wonder now if I could have thrown in the watch and gotten a better deal) and headed for the front door where I confidently inserted my key and tried to turn the lock….nothing….it would not budge….not turn….bupkus….nada….nil….zip….What the hell was going on here? Was I that tired? Come on. I wanted to go upstairs and go to bed. Try again. For the next five hours I tried again….and again….and again. I was becoming one very upset American with each passing hour. The sun began to creep onto the horizon behind me and I could barely keep my eyes open and my feet were numb by now. I hadn’t dressed planning on spending the night out in the elements. All I knew was somebody had sold me a bill-of-goods and lied to me about being able to get in with no problem. I was pacing back and forth on the porch when I heard the front door open. It was the hotelier opening up for the day. He looked at me rather puzzled and then it dawned on him he had left his door key in the inside of the lock thereby preventing me from getting in with my room key from the outside. It seems he forgot I was coming in that night. He thought it was the next night. (I knew where he could get a good calendar watch.) I was given an extra bottle of wine that night with dinner. No charge.

George Blaurock is remembered as a man of action. If he knew what was right, he tirelessly and forcefully pursued it with all his might. He jumped up and with conviction declared that he wanted to be baptized, no matter what the price. He was known to enter Reformed church services, call down the preacher, and begin to preach over him with his powerful voice. He was kicked out of at least five areas and endured torture for about a month before his death.