The Letter That Changed a Life

In 1725, a young German nobleman named Nicolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf stood before a painting of the crucified Christ in an art gallery in Düsseldorf. Beneath it were inscribed the words: "This I have done for you. What have you done for Me?" Zinzendorf, already wealthy and destined for a comfortable career in Saxon politics, felt the question burn through every layer of privilege and ambition. He walked out of that gallery a man set apart.

Within a few years, Zinzendorf had opened his estate at Herrnhut to Moravian refugees — persecuted believers with nothing but their faith. He traded his title for the identity of a servant. He organized what became a hundred-year prayer meeting and sent missionaries to places no European church had dared go: the Caribbean, Greenland, South Africa. He called himself simply a servant of Jesus Christ.

When Paul opened his letter to the Romans, he did not introduce himself as a trained Pharisee or a Roman citizen. He wrote, "Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God." His entire identity had been rewritten by a single encounter on the Damascus road.

Zinzendorf understood what Paul knew — that when the living God calls you, every former title becomes an empty frame. You are no longer defined by what you were born into but by Whom you now belong to. Called, loved, and set apart. That is the only introduction that matters.