In 1492—the year Columbus sailed
the ocean blue and found a new world that wasn’t exactly lost—a 61 year-old man
took on a new job, one he had secured by bribery. He was unmarried but was sometimes seen in
the company of his nineteen-year-old mistress.
Of course, he was known to have some seven children born to other
mistresses. The new job allowed him to
give his children positions of power and wealth. He would hold the job until
the early years of the sixteenth century, one of the most tumultuous of
European history. This man—known for his
lechery and nepotism—was Pope Alexander the VI.
If you imagined popes were above
such behavior, many a 16th century European would snicker at your
naiveté.
But the blatant immorality of the
clergy, whether at the highest level or at the village level, WAS not really
the most important factor in the events that would make the 16th
century so significant.
Things had been brewing for
sometime:
--The rising nationalism caused
some nations to resent the interference of the popes.
--The efforts of individuals like
John Wycliffe, John Hus, and Savonarola raised awareness that something was
wrong at the heart of the system.
--The Renaissance with its call to
“get back to the sources” led to a renewed interest in the New Testament and
the earlier church fathers; neither, it was discovered, contained the elaborate
sacramental system on which the church depended for its psycho-spiritual power
over people.
We are going to begin with a look
at two of the most memorable names from that century.
Martin Luther
Martin Luther was born in Saxony in
1483 into the home of a prosperous miner.
In 1505, while still in his early twenties, he received the MA from the
University of Erfurt. He planned to
study law, a profession his father had chosen for him. Then, one night as he was riding through a
storm, a nearby bolt of lightning caused his horse to throw him and the
panic-stricken Luther to cry out, “Saint Anne, help me. I will become a monk.”
True to his promise, in 1506,
Luther became a monk in the Augustinian order.
In time, he was ordained a priest and began serious theological
studies. In 1512, he received the Doctor
of Theology degree at the University of Wittenburg, where became a teacher.
Outwardly, Luther’s career in the
church was stellar. In only a few years,
he had gone from novice to professor of Biblical studies at one of Germany’s
newest universities. Inwardly, however,
Luther was spiritually dissatisfied.
Though he was a diligent priest and scholar, he had no peace of
soul. In his own words, he constantly
wondered “when will I find a gracious God.”
Luther pursued the most rigorous of
behavior to try to find peace with God but it eluded him. He wore his confessor out with the minutia
of his confessions. Finally, his
superior in the monastery advised him to give up being so introspective and
focus his attention on the Scripture and theology. He did.
From, the Scripture Luther began to get a different understanding of
God’s righteousness.
To put the matter simply, Luther
discovered the church had lost sight of the message of the gospel. Grace had become a commodity to be earned
through the sacraments and righteousness a quality to be attained by good
works. Luther felt he had never quite
done enough.
But through his biblical studies,
Luther began to get a new understanding of God. He discovered that “the righteousness of
God,” that Paul wrote about was not the righteousness he was to strive to
attain by his efforts but the righteousness that God gave to those who
believed. Indeed, God yearned to give
salvation to all who trusted him. Our
self-effort could do nothing toward attaining God’s favor. Instead, we are justified by faith, faith
alone. The work of Christ is sufficient
for our salvation; we can add nothing to what he has already done.
All of this might have remained
Luther’s private discoveries had it not been for a church renovation program
back in Rome. Pope Leo X was renovating
St Peter’s cathedral and needed cash—a lot of it—to get the job done. So he approved a campaign to sell
indulgences. An indulgence was a way to
escape time in Purgatory, that place between death and heaven where even good
Christians—excepting the saints—went to be purged of sins that remained after
baptism and regular penance. Indulgences
had long been available but these had a new selling point, they could affect
those already in purgatory. You could
buy one for yourself and one for an already dead relative.
Johan Tetzel was the pope’s
representative in Saxony. To sell the
indulgences he used some surprisingly modern methods, such as advertising
jingles: “As soon as the coin in the
coffer rings the soul from purgatory springs.”
(No, I don’t know why a jingle in German should rhyme in English.) Tetzel used guilt to sell his product. It would be a hard-hearted man who could
resist the appeal that for just a few coins he could end granny’s torment.
Luther was incensed at what he
considered a travesty. He believed
indulgences were unbiblical. He believed
the way to heaven was through faith. He
doubted the pope could do anything about the condition of the departed and, if
he could, why didn’t he simply empty Purgatory instead of trying to make money.
These arguments and others were in
the 95 Theses that Luther nailed to the cathedral door tht was used as a kind
of bulletin board to announce upcoming events.
Luther was proposing a public debate on the issue. He probably didn’t expect it to go much
further than the university lecture hall.
He was wrong.
The theses were copied, translated,
printed, and spread throughout the territory.
In time, his opinion of indulgences caught the attention of the church
authorities. In 1520, the pope issued a
statement denouncing Luther and his teaching.
Luther burned it in a public ceremony which was probably the most
flagrant defiance of authority imaginable.
Life for western Christians would never be the same. In 1521, Luther was ordered to explain
himself by Emperor Charles V. The
meeting took place at Worms. It was here
Luther concluded his defense with the words:
“Unless I am
convinced by the Scriptures or by clear arguments (since I believe neither the
Pope nor the Councils alone; it being evident that they have often erred and
contradicted themselves), I am captive to the Holy Scriptures, and my
conscience is bound by the word of God: I cannot and will not recant anything,
since it is unsafe and dangerous to do anything against the conscience.”
Some reports say Luther added the
word, “Here I stand. I can do no
other. God help me. Amen”
The die was cast and the Protestant
Reformation rolled on without stopping.
We don’t have time to look at all
the rest Luther did. He would help
translate the Bible into German. He
would write passionate defenses of the new understanding of the faith, which he
believed was really the old understanding of the faith. We can’t examine his obstinate refusal to see
any other way to understand the Eucharist than one that somehow, someway made
Christ really present in the elements—a refusal that would leave the Reformers
divided when they probably needed to be united.
We won’t reflect on his anti-Semitism or his vicious, heartless response
to the Peasants’ Revolt. We can trill at
his courageous “Here I stand,” but we also need to look at the whole man.
John Calvin
John Calvin (1509-1564) was a
second generation reformer. Calvin would
first train as a lawyer and then turn to theology. He became a priest and sometime in 1532/33
became embraced Protestant theology and underwent conversion. He would spend a couple years fleeing the authorities,
coming finally to Geneva in 1536, intending to quickly move on to
Strasbourg.
At this time he had already begun the
first edition of what would become the most famous Protestant theology text, The Institutes of the Christian
Religion. It would be published in
ever expanding editions until finalized a few years before his death in
1564. It is still read and studied in
Reformed (Calvinist) seminaries today. One
website refers to the book as “the immortal Institutes.” Calvinists take Calvin pretty seriously.
In Geneva he encountered William Farel,
better known for his preaching than his organizational skills, who cajoled him
to remain and help the city implement Protestant reforms. Farel must have recognized the young
Frenchman possessed the skills he lacked, as well as a gift for articulating
the faith. Except for a brief period of
exile, Calvin would spend the remainder of his life in the city. Geneva had been seriously flirting with
Protestantism and the two reformers would help seal the deal. In Geneva Calvin created a community where
the line between church and state was blurred if not completely erased. It was a laboratory in which Reformed
theology could find practical expression in the particulars of life.
Geneva’s influence was
far-reaching. When the authorities in
Britain and elsewhere began putting pressure on Protestants, leaders like John
Knox fled to the city. There they would
learn how to put the Reformation to work in their own nations when the
opportunity came.
With the best of intentions,
Calvin, his fellow pastors, and the city council created laws that essentially
micromanaged the lives of the residents.
Naturally, there were laws about matters such as church attendance,
divorce, and dress; but they also limited what names parents could give their
children.
Calvin’s influence was almost
certainly greater than Luther’s; by the end of the Reformation there were a
sizable number of Calvinists in Germany.
It might not be going too far to suggest Calvin was the Thomas Aquinas
of Protestantism.
[Augustine was “the Augustine” of
Protestantism while remaining “the Augustine” of Catholicism; some have suggested that the Reformation
represented the clash between Augustine’s view of salvation and Augustine’s
view of the church.]
The precepts of Calvinism would be
formalized at the Synod of Dort in 1618-19; the Synod had, in part, been called
to answer the arguments of the followers of James Arminius (1559-1609). Ironically, some historians believe
Arminius—who is usually pictured as the iconic anti-Calvinist—was actually attempting
to defend Calvin who had, as Arminius believed, been misrepresented by his most
ardent disciples. Those same historians
suggest Arminius was subsequently misrepresented by his most ardent
disciples. In any case, Dort defined the
essence of Calvinism. Later, some
enterprising individual summarized what Dort said and produced the most famous acronym
in Christian history, second only to ICQUS.
The major points of Calvinism may
be summed up using the word Tulip.
TàTotal
Depravity. Not only have all sinned, but
all have sinned to the degree that they are incapable of responding to God.
UàUnconditional
Election. God chooses some to be elect
and receive the gift of salvation. (Scholars still debate whether Calvin taught
that God elected some to damnation; it is hard to avoid the conclusion that he did.}
LàLimited
Atonement. The atonement Christ provides
is effective only for the elect.
IàIrresistible
Grace. The elect cannot resist God’s
grace; if they are elect, they will be saved.
PàPerseverance
of the saints. The elect will not fall
away from the faith and will ultimately go to heaven.
Calvin is also known for his
emphasis on predestination and the sovereignty of God.
The best known and most influential
of the Arminians (not to be confused with Armenians) was John Wesley (who held
some views that many Arminians would not accept). Arminians insist that election is based upon
God’s foreknowledge of who would and would not believe the gospel. As a consequence, Arminians believe the
atonement is universal in its application and that the promise “whosoever will
may come” really means that and not “whosoever will may come (as long as
they’re the elect).” Arminians hold differing opinions regarding the issue of
the perseverance of the saints.
The fortunes of the two groups have
changed over the centuries. At the end
of the seventeenth century a popular joke in England went. “What do the
Arminians hold?” The answer was, “All
the best bishoprics and deaneries.” At
the end of the eighteenth century, John Wesley would write a little book
attempting to define Arminian beliefs.
He would begin by saying that in the minds of many to say “There is an
Arminian” had the same impact as saying, “There is a mad dog.”
The following is an
account of an encounter between a well-known Calvinist and an even better-known
Arminian. Not all of such encounters end
as this one did.
During the Evangelical
Awakening in 18th century England the tireless evangelist John
Wesley, founder of Methodism, met with Charles Simeon, pastor of the university
church at Cambridge. They differed on
many issues. But listen to what happened
on that platform on October 30, 1787.
“Sir,” said Simeon, “I understand you are called an Arminian; now I am sometimes called a Calvinist, and therefore, I suppose, we are to draw daggers. But, before I begin to combat, with your permission, I will ask you a few questions, not from impertinent curiosity but for real instruction. Pray, sir, do you feel yourself a depraved creature, so depraved that you would never have thought of turning to God, if God had not put it into your heart?”
“Yes,” said Wesley, “I do indeed.”
“And do you utterly despair of recommending yourself to God by anything that you can do; and look for salvation solely through the blood and righteousness of Christ?”
“Yes, solely through Christ.”
“But, sir, supposing you were first saved by Christ, are you not somehow or other to save yourself afterwards, by your good works?”
“No, I must be saved by Christ, from first to last.”
“Allowing then, that you were first turned by the grace of God, are you not in some way or other to keep yourself by your own power?”
“No.”
“What, then, are you to be upheld every hour and moment by God, as much as an infant in its mother’s arms?”
“Yes, altogether.”
“And is all your hope in the grace and mercy of God, to preserve you unto His heavenly kingdom?”
“Yes, I have no hope but in Him.”
“Then, sir, with your leave, I will put up my dagger again: for this is all my Calvinism; this is my election, my justification, my final perseverance. It is in substance al that I hold, and as I hold it; and therefore, if you please, instead of searching out terms and phrases to be the ground of contention between us, we will cordially unite in those things wherein we agree.”
“Sir,” said Simeon, “I understand you are called an Arminian; now I am sometimes called a Calvinist, and therefore, I suppose, we are to draw daggers. But, before I begin to combat, with your permission, I will ask you a few questions, not from impertinent curiosity but for real instruction. Pray, sir, do you feel yourself a depraved creature, so depraved that you would never have thought of turning to God, if God had not put it into your heart?”
“Yes,” said Wesley, “I do indeed.”
“And do you utterly despair of recommending yourself to God by anything that you can do; and look for salvation solely through the blood and righteousness of Christ?”
“Yes, solely through Christ.”
“But, sir, supposing you were first saved by Christ, are you not somehow or other to save yourself afterwards, by your good works?”
“No, I must be saved by Christ, from first to last.”
“Allowing then, that you were first turned by the grace of God, are you not in some way or other to keep yourself by your own power?”
“No.”
“What, then, are you to be upheld every hour and moment by God, as much as an infant in its mother’s arms?”
“Yes, altogether.”
“And is all your hope in the grace and mercy of God, to preserve you unto His heavenly kingdom?”
“Yes, I have no hope but in Him.”
“Then, sir, with your leave, I will put up my dagger again: for this is all my Calvinism; this is my election, my justification, my final perseverance. It is in substance al that I hold, and as I hold it; and therefore, if you please, instead of searching out terms and phrases to be the ground of contention between us, we will cordially unite in those things wherein we agree.”
Calvinist and Arminians continue to
debate and will, doubtless, continue to debate.
Calvinists feel free to ignore the Arminians’ arguments and the
Arminians feel destined to hold onto their beliefs.
Radicals and Anabaptists
From almost the beginning, there
were those who felt Luther was not going far enough. Indeed, his changes were very
conservative. He did not deliberately
provoke controversy and he feared greatly feared anarchy.
Others were less hesitant.
The so-called radical reformers
took were very different from each other but all of them agreed things were
moving too slowly.
Those who advocated revolution,
communism, and such social change as polygamy would eventually be dealt with by
the government.
Other groups would face great trial
but would survive. These are known by
the term “Anabaptists.” The term means
“re-baptizers,” referring to their belief that the baptism they received in the
Catholic Church as infants was invalid.
Embracing the common themes of the so-called
“magisterial Reformers,” Anabaptist beliefs usually also included a rejection
of infant baptism, rejection of any union of church and state, and, in time,
pacifism. They often emphasized a simple lifestyle but
the expression varied from group to group.
Their enduring contribution would be the notion of “the believers’
church;” while Lutheran and Reformed groups might cling to the distinction of
an invisible church within the visible church, the Anabaptists through the
practice of discipline and oversight attempted to eliminate that distinction.
Just to clarify, the Anabaptists
were not the forerunners of the Baptists.
They differed in various ways.
Baptists certainly were never committed to the notion of pacifism, as
their participation in the English Civil War would demonstrate. At the same time, the seeming similarity in
the practice of baptism doesn’t bear close scrutiny. As James Payton points out:
…while sixteenth-century
Anabaptists rejected paedobaptism, they did not practice believers’ baptism (as it is
commonly known today); instead, they practiced disciples’ baptism. The contemporary option of experiencing a
conversion in one church service and being baptized in the next, a practice
common in many such church circles, was foreign to sixteenth-century
Anabaptists. They reserved baptism for
committed disciples who had shown by their steadfast faith, self-discipline and
wholehearted following of the ideals of the gathered community that they were
genuine disciples.[1]
The English Reformation or Ecclesiastical Diversity from the People Who
Gave Us Cricket
On my first visit to London, I
visited several stores looking for some souvenir bearing the logo of the Blackburn
Rovers; this in a city gone mad over Manchester United. I found simple books on understanding polo,
understanding rugby, understanding (English) football—there were no such books
on cricket. A clerk told me, “Cricket can’t be explained simply.”
The same thing must be said about
the English Reformation.
You still hear the notion that the
Reformation came to England because Henry VIII needed a divorce. There’s too much truth in that account to
call it an outright falsehood but Luther’s thought was already finding
acceptance by some in England.
Still, Protestantism in the British
Isles had a difficult birth. Though the
Church of England became Protestant under Henry VIII, Mary would take the
nation back to Catholicism, Elizabeth would bring it back to
Protestantism.
Church leaders tried to create a
church that represented something of a middle way. In the end, you had a church with a Reformed
statement of faith (the Thirty-Nine Articles) and practices that struck some as
suspiciously Roman Catholic. Both
Protestants and Catholics were unhappy with the results.
Outlawed for a while, Catholics
were eventually marginalized.
By the end of the 16th
century the Church of England produced two groups. The Puritans who wished to “purify”
the church were willing to stay within the church, following a principle we
might call “agitate and wait.” The
Separatists demanded “reformation without tarrying for any” and withdrew
from the church, willing to face the consequences of their commitment.
Conflict and confusion would be the
hallmarks of the 17th century.
While the C of E would give the world the King James Bible, they would
persecute those interpreting it differently than their leaders. The persecuted who fled to a new world would
persecute those who interpreted that Bible differently than did their
leaders. An English king would be
beheaded and a Baptist tinker would be sent to jail where he would write a
devotional masterpiece, The Pilgrim’s
Progress.
Before the dust settled in the late
seventeenth century with the 1689 Act of Toleration, the British would go to
war among themselves over religious issues but finally realize there had to be
room on their tiny island for differences of opinion. Still, the Act did not give freedom to
Catholics; that would come later.
Some scholars believe the British
attitude toward the Church of England is directly related to that church’s long
association with the government. When
unhappy British voters think of the government, they also think of the
church.
For all the variety the Protestants
produced, they held to a common core of beliefs. They would have different
distinctives but all of these groups would share common themes traceable to
Luther’s revolution.
·
The Bible alone is the foundation for Christian
belief and practice. Historically,
Protestants have termed this as sola scriptura.
·
Salvation is the free, unmerited gift of God,
available to all. Sola gratia Protestants say.
Salvation is by “grace alone.”
·
The avenue to this gracious salvation is through
“faith alone,” sola fide.
·
Each believer may enter a relationship with God,
enjoying communion and forgiveness, without any other human mediator, a
principle the Protestants called “the priesthood of believers.” Protestants would insist there is no
distinction between priest and laity.
The emphasis on the Bible and the
stress on the believer’s freedom would produce a problem distinctive to
Protestantism. While Protestants agree
we are bound by what the Bible says; Protestants by no means agree on what the
Bible says.
It makes things interesting.
A Few Words About the Other Reformation, The Catholic Reformation
The Catholic Reformation (sometimes
called the Counter-Reformation) was the Roman Catholic response to
Protestantism. That being said, there
were some efforts, especially in Spain, to attempt to enforce canon laws regarding
the morality of the clergy.
The most significant element of the
Catholic Reformation, regarding theology at least, was the Council of Trent
(1545-1563). The council met for nearly
twenty years examining the many aspects of Roman Catholic thought and
practice. There were a few theologians
who presented a Protestant view of justification but they were silenced or self-silenced
in the interest of self-preservation.
The
final sessions were greatly influenced by the Jesuits and finally acknowledged
there would be no reconciliation with the Protestants. Significant decisions included:
--The insistence that doctrine
rested on the Bible and tradition.
--The insistence that only the
church could interpret the Bible.
--The system of sacraments was
reaffirmed. Communion would continue to
be in one kind.
Regarding prayers to saints,
indulgences, and Purgatory little changed.
The fortunes of the Roman Church
varied from century to century with both gains and losses in power and influence.
The nineteenth century the Church
produced new doctrines and responded to changing culture with a passionate
conservatism.
In 1854, Pope Pius IX proclaimed
the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, a doctrine which teaches that Mary was
conceived without original sin. About a
century later, the church would proclaim the Bodily Assumption of Mary, a dogma
that states Mary was taken to heaven without having to undergo death. This underscores the notion that she was
sinless. Catholics are united in their
affirmation that Mary was a unique woman, perhaps the most unique in history;
they are divided over other matters regarding the mother of Jesus. Forces in the church continue to press to
have her officially declared a co-redeemer.
A Jesuit priest once told me he was embarrassed at how the language some
used in describing Mary.
The First Vatican Council, convened
in 1870, is significant for its endorsement of papal infallibility. Although several cardinals objected, the
dogma was agreed upon. It states
The Roman Pontiff, when he
speaks ex cathedra—i.e., when, in his character as pastor and doctor of all
Christians, and in virtue of his supreme apostolic authority, he lays down that
a certain doctrine concerning faith and morals is binding upon the universal
church—possesses by the divine assistance which was promised to him in the
person of the blessed St. Peter, the same infallibility with which the Divine
Redeemer thought to endow His church, to define its doctrine with regard to
faith and morals.[2]
Since 1870, the dogma has been
invoked on only one occasion. That was
when Pope Pius XII proclaimed the bodily assumption of Mary in 1950.
Several ideas or philosophies were
officially condemned in the closing days of the nineteenth century. This includes a condemnation of communism and
socialism. Some popes were very
suspicious of Americanism.
The Second Vatican Council (1962-65)
was called by Pope John XXIII to help “modernize” the church. Nothing changed doctrinally but there were
some far-reaching changes on other matters.
--Protestants became “separated
brothers.”
--Liturgy and mass would be in the
vernacular, the language of the people.
--Communion would be in both kinds.
RC theologian Karl Rahner
(1904-1984) would eventually begin to speak of “anonymous Christianity” in
which those who are not consciously Christian may exercise an inherent faith
inspired by transcendent experiences which are universal to all human
beings. Consequently the adherents of
non-Christian religions may be such “anonymous Christians.” So, too, may the atheist. Without abandoning the quest for conversions,
this will transform the Catholic Church’s approach to missions.
Karl Barth, one of the most
influential Protestant theologians of the 20th century, evaluated
the structure of RC theology and concluded that no matter the outward changes
it was impossible to escape “that damn Catholic ‘and’”. No matter how sophisticated he language,
salvation continues to be by faith plus.
Evangelicals like the late Charles
Colson have attempted to develop common ground with Catholics but real
obstacles remain.
[2] Kurian, G. T. (2001). Nelson’s new Christian
dictionary: The authoritative resource on the Christian world. Nashville, TN:
Thomas Nelson Publishers.