Chapter 12 of 29

Part 12

Part 12

John the Baptist, who was the messenger sent to prepare the way for Christ, had this as the sum of his preaching:

"Repent, for the Kingdom of God has drawn near."

—Matthew 3:2

In calling men to repentance, he admonished them to recognize themselves as sinners and to acknowledge themselves and all their works as condemned before God, so that with all their hearts they might desire the mortification of their flesh and a new regeneration by the Spirit of God.

In proclaiming the Kingdom of God, he called them to faith. For by the Kingdom of God, which he proclaimed to be near, he meant the forgiveness of sins, salvation, life, and everything else that we receive in Christ. Therefore it is said in the other Evangelists:

"John came preaching the baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins."

—Mark 1:4; Luke 3:3

This means nothing other than that he taught men, feeling themselves weary beneath the burden of their sins, to turn to God and conceive the hope of grace and salvation.

In the same manner Christ began his preaching:

"The Kingdom of God is near; repent and believe the Gospel."

—Mark 1:15

First, he declares that the treasures of God's mercy are opened in himself. Second, he requires repentance. Finally, he requires a sure confidence in God's promises. For this reason, when in another passage he wished briefly to summarize everything belonging to the Gospel, he said:

"It was necessary that Christ should suffer and rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be preached in his name."

—Luke 24:46–47

The Apostles proclaimed this after his resurrection, as when they said:

"God raised him up to give repentance to the people of Israel and the forgiveness of sins."

—Acts 5:31

Repentance is preached in the name of Christ when men understand through the doctrine of the Gospel that all their thoughts, affections, and actions are corrupt and sinful, and therefore that they must be regenerated if they wish to enter the Kingdom of God.

The forgiveness of sins is preached when men are taught that Christ has been made their redemption, righteousness, salvation, and life; that through him and on his account they are regarded as righteous and innocent before God; and thus that his righteousness is freely imputed to them.

Although we receive both repentance and forgiveness by faith, nevertheless, because the proper object of faith is the goodness of God by which our sins are forgiven, it was necessary to make the distinction we have made between faith and repentance.

Just as hatred of sin, which is the beginning of repentance, first gives us entrance into the knowledge of Christ—who communicates himself only to poor and afflicted sinners who groan, labor, are burdened and, as it were, famished, fainting beneath the weight of sorrow and misery—so, on the other hand, after we have begun repentance, we must continue in it throughout our whole life and

never abandon it until death if we wish to remain and abide in Christ.

For he came to call sinners, but to call them to repentance. He brought blessing to men who were unworthy of it, but with this purpose: that each should turn from his iniquity. Scripture is full of such statements.

Therefore, when the Lord offers us forgiveness of sins, he customarily requires in return an amended life, signifying that his mercy ought to be the cause and occasion of our amendment:

"Practice judgment and righteousness, for salvation is near."

—Isaiah 56:1

Likewise:

"Salvation will come to Zion, and to those in Israel who turn from their iniquity."

—Isaiah 59:20

Again:

"Seek the Lord while he may be found; call upon him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and his perverse thoughts, and let him return to the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him."

—Isaiah 55:6–7

And again:

"Return to the Lord with amendment of life, so that your sins may be blotted out."

—Acts 3:19

Yet we must observe that this condition is added not because our amendment is the foundation upon which we obtain pardon. Rather, because the Lord wills to show mercy to men so that they may amend their lives, he shows us here the end toward which we must strive if we would obtain pardon from God.

Therefore, as long as we dwell in this prison of our body, we must continually and unceasingly fight against the corruption of our nature and against everything that is natural to us.

Plato once said that the life of a philosopher is a meditation upon death. We may say more truly that the life of a Christian is a perpetual endeavor and exercise in mortifying the flesh, until, the flesh having been put to death, the Spirit of God reigns within us.

Therefore, I consider him to have made great progress who has learned to be deeply displeased with himself—not so that he should stop there and proceed no further, but so that he may sigh after God and strive toward him; and so that, being united to the death and resurrection of Christ, he may devote himself to continual repentance. Indeed, those who are rightly touched with hatred of sin cannot do otherwise, for no one ever hates sin without having first come to love righteousness.

Because this statement is the simplest of all, it has seemed to me to agree exceedingly well with the truth of Scripture.

I now come to examine what the Sophists have taught concerning repentance, which I shall do as briefly as possible. For I do not intend to pursue the whole matter, lest this present little book, which I wish to keep concise, grow to excessive length. Besides, they have entangled a subject that was not otherwise very difficult in such lengthy disputations that it would not be easy to find a way out if we ventured too far into their labyrinths.

First, in defining repentance, they plainly show that they have never understood what it is. For they draw from the writings of the ancient Fathers certain statements that in no way express the force and nature of repentance. Such are the following: that to repent is to mourn the sins previously committed and not to commit again those that must afterward be mourned; likewise, that it is to lament past evils and no longer commit those that must be lamented; again, that it is a sorrowful vengeance, punishing in oneself what one wishes one had never committed; and again, that it is sorrow of heart and bitterness of soul for the evils one has committed or to which one has consented.

Even if we grant that these things were well said by the ancient Fathers—which a contentious person might easily deny—they were nevertheless not spoken with the intention of defining repentance, but only to exhort penitents not to fall again into the same faults from which they had been delivered.

And if definitions were to be made from everything the ancient Fathers are found to have said about repentance, they could have

brought forward others that appear no less suitable, such as this statement of Chrysostom: repentance is a medicine that extinguishes sin, a gift descended from heaven, a marvelous power, and a grace surpassing the force of laws.

After defining repentance so subtly, they divide it into three parts: contrition of heart, confession of the mouth, and satisfaction by works. This division is no more fitting than their definition, although throughout their whole lives they study nothing but dialectic—the art of defining and dividing properly.

But if someone were to argue from their definition, as is accepted among dialecticians, that a man may mourn the sins he has previously committed and cease committing them without making any confession with his mouth, how will they defend their division? For if a man who makes no oral confession may nevertheless be truly penitent, repentance can exist without such confession.

If they answer that this division must be referred to repentance insofar as it is a sacrament, or that it must be understood as describing the full perfection of repentance, which their definitions do not comprehend, they have no grounds for accusing me. They must rather attribute the fault to themselves for failing to define it more clearly and precisely. For my part, according to the measure of my ability, whenever a subject is under discussion, I hold to the definition, which ought to be the foundation of the entire disputation. But let us grant them this magisterial license and examine each of their divisions in order.

The readers must here be warned that we are not engaged in a frivolous dispute, but that the matter in question is of the greatest

importance above all others: namely, the forgiveness of sins. For when they require these three things for repentance—compunction of heart, confession of the mouth, and satisfaction by works—they likewise determine that these are necessary for obtaining the forgiveness of sins.

Now, if there is anything in our whole religion that we need to know, it is chiefly necessary that we understand this: by what means, in what manner, under what condition, and with what ease or difficulty the forgiveness of sins is obtained. Unless this knowledge is certain and settled, the conscience can have no rest, no peace with God, and no confidence or assurance. Instead, it continually trembles and is agitated, disturbed, tormented, and driven about. It abhors and hates the judgment of God and flees from it as much as it can. And if the forgiveness of sins depends upon the conditions to which they bind it, nothing is more miserable or more desperate than we are.

The first part they establish for obtaining pardon and grace is contrition, which they require to be duly performed—that is, fully and entirely. Yet they never determine when a person may be assured that he has adequately fulfilled this contrition. Here poor consciences are wonderfully vexed and afflicted, because they see that this due contrition is imposed upon them, yet they do not know the measure of the debt and therefore cannot be certain when they have paid what they owe.

If they say that we must do what lies within us, we shall always return to the same circle. For when will anyone dare assure himself that he has employed all his strength in mourning his sins? The result is that, after consciences have long struggled within

themselves and found no harbor in which they may rest and somewhat relieve their misery, they force themselves into a measure of sorrow and compel a few tears in order to fulfil this contrition.

If they wish to accuse me of slander, let them produce a single person who has not, through this doctrine of contrition, either been driven to despair or presented before God's judgment a feigned sorrow in place of true compunction.

We also said elsewhere that the forgiveness of sins is never granted to us without repentance, because no one can truly and sincerely implore God's mercy unless he is afflicted and wounded by the consciousness of his sins. But we likewise added that repentance is not the cause of this forgiveness, and we removed this torment from souls—the notion that contrition must be duly and fully accomplished.

Furthermore, we taught the sinner not to look upon his compunction or his tears, but to fix both eyes upon the mercy of God. We merely declared that those who are burdened and weary are called by Christ, since he was sent to proclaim glad tidings to the poor, to heal those who are brokenhearted, to proclaim deliverance to the captives, to release the prisoners, and to comfort those who mourn.

This excludes both the Pharisees, who, being satisfied and content with their own righteousness, did not recognize their poverty, and those who despise God and, being unconcerned about his wrath, seek no remedy for their misery. For such people do not labor, are not wounded in heart, are neither bound nor captive, and do not mourn.

There is a great difference between teaching a sinner to merit the forgiveness of his sins by a full and complete contrition, which he can never accomplish, and instructing him through the knowledge of his misery to hunger and thirst for the mercy of God; between showing him his weariness, anguish, and captivity so that he may seek consolation, rest, and deliverance—in short, teaching him through his humiliation to give glory to God.

Concerning confession, there has always been great controversy between the canon lawyers and the scholastic theologians. The former have said that it was ordained only by positive law—that is, by ecclesiastical constitutions. The latter have maintained that it was ordained by divine command.

In this controversy the theologians have displayed great shamelessness, corrupting and distorting as many passages of Scripture as they cited in support of their position. And when they saw that even by this means they could not accomplish their purpose, those who wished to appear the most subtle among them devised this escape: that confession descended from divine law as to its substance, but afterward received its form from positive law.

In the same way, the most foolish among the lawyers have been accustomed to trace the legal summons to divine law because it was said to Adam:

"Adam, where are you?"

—Genesis 3:9

They likewise trace the defendant's plea to divine law because Adam answered in his own defense:

"The woman whom you gave me…"

—Genesis 3:12

Yet they say that civil law afterward gave the form to both.

But let us see by what arguments they prove that this confession, whether in a determinate form or without one, was commanded by God. "Our Lord," they say, "sent the lepers to the priests." What of it? Did he send them to confession? Who ever heard that the Levitical priests were appointed to hear confessions?

They therefore resort to allegory and say that the Mosaic Law appointed the priests to distinguish between one kind of leprosy and another; that sin is spiritual leprosy; and that it belongs to the priest to judge it.

Before answering, I ask: if this passage appoints them judges of spiritual leprosy, why do they claim for themselves the examination of natural and bodily leprosy? Is this not to make sport of Scripture by twisting it in this way? "The Law entrusts the judgment of leprosy to the Levitical priests; therefore let us claim it for ourselves. Sin is spiritual leprosy; therefore let us be judges of sins."

Now I answer:

"When the priesthood is changed, there must also be a change of the law."

—Hebrews 7:12

Since every priestly office has been transferred to Jesus Christ, fulfilled in him, and brought to an end in him, all the dignity and prerogative of the priesthood must likewise be transferred to him. If they take such pleasure in allegories, let them set Christ before themselves as the only Priest and gather all jurisdiction before his tribunal. We shall readily allow them this.

Moreover, their allegory is inappropriate because it mixes a law that is purely civil with the ceremonies.

Why, then, did Christ send the lepers to the priests? It was so that the priests might have no occasion to accuse him of violating the Law, which commanded that anyone healed of leprosy should present himself before the priest and be purified by a prescribed offering. Therefore, he commanded the lepers whom he had healed to fulfil what the Law required:

"Go, show yourselves to the priests, and offer the gift that Moses commanded in the Law, as a testimony to them."

—Matthew 8:4

And truly, this miracle ought to have served as a testimony against them. They had declared these men to be lepers; afterward they pronounced them healed. Were they not compelled, whether they wished it or not, to become witnesses of Christ's miracles? Christ submitted his miracle to their examination. They could not deny it; yet because they still sought evasions, this work stood as a testimony against them.

In the same sense it is said elsewhere:

"This Gospel will be preached throughout the whole world as a testimony to all nations."

—Matthew 24:14

Likewise:

"You will be brought before kings and rulers as a testimony against them."

—Matthew 10:18

That is, so that they might be all the more fully convicted at God's judgment. But if they prefer to rest upon the authority of Chrysostom, he teaches that Christ did this because of the Jews, so that he would not be regarded as a transgressor of the Law.

They draw their second argument from the same source, namely allegory, as though allegories possessed great power to prove any doctrine. But I am willing to grant that they are sufficient if I do not show that I could advance them with greater plausibility than they do.

They say, then, that after our Lord had raised Lazarus, he commanded his disciples to loose him and unwrap him:

"Loose him, and let him go."

—John 11:44

First, they speak falsely, for nowhere is it said that our Lord gave this command to his disciples. It is far more likely that he spoke to the Jews who were present, so that the miracle might become more evident without any suspicion of fraud, and that his power might appear all the greater because, without touching Lazarus, he raised the dead by his word alone.

Certainly, I understand it in this way: to remove every evil suspicion from the Jews, our Lord willed that they themselves should remove the stone, smell the stench, perceive the certain signs of death, see Lazarus rise by the power of his voice alone, and be the first to touch him.

But let us grant that this was said to the disciples. What will they conclude? How much more plausibly might we interpret this passage allegorically by saying that our Lord intended thereby to teach his believers to loose those whom he had raised—that is, not to recall sins that he had forgotten, not to condemn as sinners those whom he had absolved, not to reproach them for what he had forgiven, and not to be severe and difficult in punishing where he was merciful, gentle, and gracious in pardoning? Let them now go and make a shield of their allegories.

They engage us a little more closely when they confirm their teaching by passages of Scripture which they regard as plain. "Those," they say, "who came to John's baptism confessed their sins, and Saint James commands us to confess our sins to one another."

I answer that it is no wonder that those who wished to be baptized confessed their sins. For it has already been said that John preached the baptism of repentance and baptized with water unto repentance.

Whom, then, would he have baptized except those who confessed themselves to be sinners? Baptism is a sign of the forgiveness of sins. Who would be admitted to this sign except sinners and those who recognized themselves as such? They therefore confessed their sins in order to be baptized.

Saint James does not command without reason that we confess to one another. But if they considered what immediately follows, they would find that this passage does little to support them:

"Confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another."

—James 5:16

He joins mutual prayer with mutual confession. If confession must be made only to priests, then prayer must also be made only for priests. Indeed, it would follow from Saint James's words that priests alone could confess, for in commanding us to confess to one another, he speaks only to those who are able to hear the confessions of others. He says mutually, or, if they prefer, reciprocally. But no one can confess reciprocally unless he also hears the confession of his companion. Since they grant this privilege only to priests, we gladly leave the priests, according to their own teaching, the responsibility of confessing to one another.

Let us therefore put aside such nonsense and understand the Apostle's simple and evident meaning: that we should communicate and disclose our infirmities to one another so that we may receive mutual counsel, compassion, and consolation; and further, that,

knowing the infirmities of our brothers, each of us should pray to God for them.

Why, then, do they cite Saint James against us, since we so earnestly require the confession of God's mercy, which cannot be confessed except by those who have first confessed their misery? Indeed, we declare accursed and condemned all who do not confess themselves to be sinners before God, before his angels, before the Church—in short, before all men. For God has concluded all under sin, so that every mouth may be stopped, all flesh humbled before him, and he alone justified and exalted.

I marvel even more at the boldness with which they dare affirm that the confession of which they speak is established by divine law. We certainly acknowledge that its use is very ancient, but we can easily prove that it was at first voluntary. Indeed, their own histories relate that there was no law or constitution concerning it before the time of Innocent III. There are also clear testimonies both in the histories and in other ancient writers showing that it was a matter of ecclesiastical discipline instituted solely by the bishops, not an ordinance established by Christ or his Apostles. I shall present only one of these testimonies, which will be more than sufficient to prove what I say.

Sozomen, one of the authors of the Ecclesiastical History, relates that this was a constitution of the bishops diligently observed by the Western churches, and especially at Rome. By this he shows that it was not a universal ordinance of all the churches.

He then explains that one of the priests was specially appointed to this office. In this he completely refutes what these men have

invented concerning the keys having been given indiscriminately to the whole order of priests. For it was not a common office belonging to them all, but the particular charge of one man chosen by the bishop for this purpose.

He further says that this practice continued at Constantinople until a woman, under the pretense of coming to confession, was discovered to have used it as a cover for having relations with one of the deacons of that church. Because of this offense, Nectarius, bishop of that city, a man renowned for holiness and great learning, abolished the practice of confession.

Let these asses prick up their ears. If auricular confession were a law of God, how could Nectarius have dared to abolish and overturn it? Will they accuse this holy man, esteemed and approved by all the ancient Fathers, of heresy and schism? By the same judgment they would condemn the Church of Constantinople—indeed, all the Eastern churches—which disregarded a law that, if these men speak truly, was inviolable and commanded to all Christians.

This abolition is also so frequently confirmed by Chrysostom, who likewise served as bishop of Constantinople, that it is astonishing they dare open their mouths in reply. He says:

"If you wish to blot out your sins, confess them. If you are ashamed to disclose them to a man, confess them daily within your soul. I do not tell you to disclose them to someone who may afterward reproach you. Confess them to God, who is able to cleanse them. Confess them upon your bed, so that your conscience may daily acknowledge its evil."

Likewise:

"It is not necessary to confess before a witness. Make the acknowledgment only in your heart. This examination requires no witness; it is sufficient that God alone sees and hears you."

Again:

"I do not summon you before men to disclose your sins to them. Examine your conscience before God. Show your wound to the Lord, who is its physician, and ask him to heal it. He is the one who reproaches nothing and compassionately heals the poor sufferer."

Again:

"I do not require you to confess to a man who may afterward reproach you or defame you by publishing your faults. Rather, show your wounds to God, who is the good physician."

He then introduces God speaking in this manner:

"I do not compel you to come before a public assembly. Confess your sins to me alone, so that I may preserve you."

Shall we say that Saint Chrysostom, in speaking this way, was so rash as to release men's consciences from bonds imposed upon them by the will of God? Certainly not. Rather, because he understood that this practice had not been ordained by God, he did not dare require it as necessary.

But to settle the whole matter more thoroughly, we shall first faithfully teach what kind of confession has been given to us in the Word of God. Afterward we shall expose their inventions concerning confession—not all of them, for who could drain so vast an ocean, but only those that belong to the substance of their doctrine.

I would not mention here that Scripture commonly uses the word confession to mean praise, were they not so shameless as to arm themselves even with such passages. Thus they say that confession produces joy in the heart, according to what is written in the Psalm:

"With the voice of joy and praise."

—Psalm 42:4

Let the simple therefore carefully observe this meaning and learn to distinguish it from the other, so that they may not easily be deceived by such falsehoods.

Concerning the confession of sins, Scripture teaches us as follows. Since it is the Lord who forgives, forgets, and blots out sins, let us confess them to him in order to obtain grace and pardon. He is the physician; therefore let us show him our wounds. He is the one whom we have offended and injured; therefore let us ask him for mercy and peace. He is the one who knows hearts and sees every thought; therefore let us open our hearts before him. He is the one who calls sinners; therefore let us withdraw from ourselves and go to him.

David says:

"I made my sin known to you and did not conceal my iniquity. I said, 'I will confess my transgression against myself to the Lord,' and you forgave the iniquity of my heart."

—Psalm 32:5

Such also is another confession of David:

"Have mercy upon me, Lord, according to your great mercy."

—Psalm 51:1

Such likewise is Daniel's confession:

"We have sinned, Lord; we have acted perversely, committed wickedness, and rebelled by turning away from your commandments."

—Daniel 9:5

There are many other similar examples throughout Scripture.

Saint John says:

"If we confess our sins, the Lord is faithful to forgive them."

—1 John 1:9

To whom shall we confess them? Certainly to him. That is, we must prostrate ourselves before him with an afflicted and humbled heart;

sincerely accuse and condemn ourselves before his face; and ask to be absolved by his goodness and mercy.

Whoever makes this confession from the heart before God will undoubtedly also have his tongue ready to confess whenever it is necessary to proclaim God's mercy among men. And he will not merely disclose the secret of his heart to one person, once, and in his ear, but will freely declare both his poverty and God's glory repeatedly, publicly, and in the hearing of the whole world.

In this manner David, after being rebuked by Nathan and pierced by the sting of conscience, confessed his sin both before God and before men:

"I have sinned against the Lord."

—2 Samuel 12:13

That is: "I no longer wish to excuse myself or resort to evasions. Let everyone judge me to be a sinner, and let even that which I wished to conceal from God be made manifest to men."

In this same manner we must understand the solemn confession made by the whole people at the admonition of Nehemiah and Ezra. Their example ought to be followed by the churches when they ask pardon from God, as is indeed the custom among well-ordered churches.

Moreover, Scripture commends to us two other kinds of confession. The first is made for our own benefit. Saint James refers to this when he commands us to confess our sins to one another. For he means

that, by disclosing our infirmities to one another, we should mutually assist one another with counsel and consolation.

The second is made for the sake of our neighbor, when he has been offended by our fault, so that we may reconcile and appease him. Christ speaks of this in Saint Matthew:

"If you bring your offering to the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there and first go and be reconciled to your brother; afterward you may present your offering."

—Matthew 5:23–24

For love, when it has been broken by our fault, must be restored by acknowledging our guilt and asking forgiveness.

As for the first kind, Scripture assigns no particular person to whom we must unburden ourselves, but leaves us free to choose from among the believers whomever we think best to hear our confession. Nevertheless, because pastors ought to be more suited to this than others, it is best to address ourselves principally to them.

I say they are more suitable than others because, by the duty of their office, they have been appointed by God to instruct us how we ought to overcome sin and to assure us of God's goodness so that we may be comforted.

Therefore, whenever a believer finds himself in such perplexity of conscience that he cannot find relief without another's assistance, let him take care not to neglect the remedy God offers him. Namely, to

relieve himself and be delivered from his distress, let him privately confess to his pastor and receive consolation from him, since the pastor's office is to comfort God's people, both privately and publicly, through the doctrine of the Gospel.

Yet we must always observe this moderation: consciences must not be bound or brought under any yoke in matters that God has left free. No other manner or form of confession is found in Scripture than those I have described.

What do they do? They ordain that everyone, both men and women, as soon as they have reached the age of discretion, must confess all their sins to their own parish priest at least once a year. They further teach that sin is not forgiven except to those who have a firm intention of confessing themselves. If this intention is not fulfilled when opportunity is presented, no entrance into Paradise remains.

They also say that the priest possesses the power of the keys to bind or loose the sinner, because Christ's word cannot be in vain:

"Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven."

—Matthew 16:19

Yet they contend among themselves concerning this power. Some say that essentially there is only one key, namely the power to bind and loose; that knowledge is indeed required for its proper use, but that it is merely an accessory and does not belong to its essence.

Others, seeing that this granted too unrestrained a license, have numbered two keys: discernment and power. Still others, seeing that

this qualification restrained the priests' rashness, have forged new keys: namely, authority to discern, which they employ in pronouncing definitive sentences, and power, which they employ in executing those sentences. To these they have added knowledge as a counselor.

They do not dare simply to interpret binding and loosing as forgiving and blotting out sins, because they hear the Lord declaring through his Prophet:

"I, even I, am he who blots out your iniquities, Israel. I am he, and there is no other besides me."

—Isaiah 43:25

But they say that it belongs to the priest to pronounce who are bound or loosed and to declare whose sins are retained or forgiven. They say that the priest makes this declaration either in confession, when he absolves or retains sins, or by judicial sentence, when he excommunicates or releases from excommunication.

Finally, seeing that they still cannot extricate themselves from the objection that unworthy persons are often bound or loosed by their priests, although they are not therefore bound or loosed in heaven, they resort to this final refuge. They answer that the gift of the keys must be understood with a certain limitation: that Christ promised to approve in heaven a priestly sentence only when it was justly pronounced according to the merits of the person whom he binds or looses.

Furthermore, they say that these keys were given by Christ to all priests and are conferred upon them by the bishops at their ordination, but that their use belongs only to those holding ecclesiastical office. Thus the keys always remain with excommunicated and suspended priests, though rusted and obstructed.

Those who say these things might be regarded as sober and modest compared with others who, in a new forge, have fashioned new keys under which, they say, the treasury of the Church is enclosed. By the treasury of the Church they mean the merits of Jesus Christ, the Apostles, the martyrs, and other saints.

They pretend that the chief custody of this storehouse was entrusted to the Bishop of Rome, to whom belongs the primary dispensation of these goods, so that he may distribute them himself and delegate to others the jurisdiction to distribute them. From this have arisen the indulgences which the Pope sometimes grants in full and sometimes for a specified number of years, while cardinals grant a hundred days and bishops forty.

I shall answer all these points briefly, leaving aside for the present the question by what right—or rather by what wrong—they subject the souls of believers to their laws, for that will be considered in its proper place.

But their imposition of a law requiring the enumeration of every sin, their denial that sins are forgiven unless a person firmly intends to confess them, and their declaration that the entrance to Paradise is closed against those who have neglected an opportunity to confess— these things must not be tolerated in any way.

For how do they imagine that anyone can enumerate all his sins, when David, who, as I suppose, had considered the confession of his sins very carefully, could do nothing but cry:

"Who can understand his faults? Lord, cleanse me from my hidden sins."

—Psalm 19:12

And in another place:

"My iniquities have risen above my head; like a heavy burden, they have exceeded my strength."

—Psalm 38:4

Certainly David understood how deep the abyss of our sins is, how many kinds of crimes dwell within man, how many heads this monster of sin bears, and how long a tail it drags behind it. He therefore did not attempt to give a complete enumeration of them, but cried to God from the depth of his misery:

"I am submerged, buried, and suffocated. The gates of hell have surrounded me. Let your right hand draw me from this pit in which I am drowning and from this death in which I perish."

Who, then, will now imagine that he can keep an account of his sins when he sees that David could not discover the number of his own?

By this hell the consciences of those who possessed any sense of God were cruelly tormented. First, they attempted to make an account,

and for this purpose they divided sins into trunks, branches, and leaves according to the distinctions of the doctors of confession. Then they weighed their qualities, quantities, and circumstances.

At first the process seemed to proceed well enough. But when they had advanced a little further, they saw nothing but sky and sea, without finding any harbor or anchorage. The further they proceeded, the more the number increased; and lofty mountains rose before their eyes, obstructing their view, while no hope appeared that they could ever find a way out. They therefore remained in this anguish and finally found no other end than despair.

Then these inhuman executioners, in order to heal the wounds they had inflicted, supplied this remedy: that everyone should do what lay within his power. But fresh anxieties still pierced them—or rather, new torments flayed their poor souls—when these thoughts confronted them: "I have not devoted enough time to it. I have not applied myself to it as I ought. I have omitted part through carelessness, and forgetfulness arising from negligence is inexcusable."

They added other remedies to soothe these evils: "Repent of your negligence; if it is not too great, it will be forgiven." But none of these things could close the wound. They were not so much remedies for soothing the evil as poisons coated with honey, so that their bitterness would not offend the first taste, but they might deceive and penetrate the vital organs before being detected.

That terrible voice therefore continually presses and echoes in their ears: "Confess all your sins." Its horror cannot be quieted except by some sure consolation.

A great part of the world has acquiesced in such honeyed consolations, by which so deadly a poison was sweetened. This did not happen because men believed that God was satisfied or because they themselves were content. Rather, just as sailors who cast anchor in the middle of the sea find some respite from the labor of navigation, or as a weary and fainting traveler sits down in the middle of the road to rest, so these people took this respite, although it was not sufficient for them.

I shall not labor greatly to prove this true, since everyone can bear witness to it within himself. But I shall state briefly what kind of law this has been. First, it is simply impossible and therefore can do nothing but destroy, condemn, confound, and cast men into ruin and despair.

Furthermore, by turning sinners away from a true apprehension of their sins, it makes them hypocrites and ignorant both of God and of themselves. For while they occupy themselves entirely with enumerating their sins, they meanwhile forget the secret abyss of corruption lying in the depths of their hearts, their inward iniquities, and their hidden uncleanness. Yet it was chiefly by recognizing these that they ought to have considered their misery.

The right rule of confession, on the contrary, was to confess and acknowledge such an abyss of evil within us that it surpasses even our understanding. We see that the publican's confession was composed according to this rule.

"Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner."

—Luke 18:13

It is as though he said: "Everything within me is nothing but sin, so that neither my mind nor my tongue can comprehend its greatness. Therefore, let the abyss of your mercy swallow up the abyss of my sins."

"What then?" someone will ask. "Must we not confess each particular sin? Is no confession pleasing to God except that which is enclosed in these three words: 'I am a sinner'?"

I answer that we must endeavor, so far as we are able, to lay our whole heart open before God. We must not merely confess ourselves to be sinners, but truly regard ourselves as such, acknowledging with our whole mind how great and varied the uncleanness of our sins is. We must not merely acknowledge ourselves unclean, but consider the nature, extent, and many forms of our uncleanness. We must not merely acknowledge ourselves debtors, but consider how many debts burden and oppress us. We must not merely acknowledge ourselves wounded, but consider how many grievous and mortal wounds have pierced us.

Nevertheless, after a sinner has thus laid himself open before God through such knowledge, he must still believe and sincerely judge that far more evil remains within him than he can comprehend, and that the depth of his misery is such that he can neither fully examine it nor discover its end. Therefore, let him cry out with David:

"Who can understand his faults? Lord, cleanse me from my hidden sins."

—Psalm 19:12

Furthermore, as for their assertion that sins are not forgiven except on condition that a person has a firm intention of confessing himself, and that the gate of Paradise is closed against those who have neglected an opportunity to do so—God forbid that we should concede this point to them.

The forgiveness of sins is no different now from what it has always been. None of those whom we read to have obtained the forgiveness of their sins from Christ are said to have confessed them into the ear of some Master John. Indeed, they could not have done so, since there were then neither confessors nor confession of this kind. For many years afterward this confession remained unknown, during which time sins were forgiven without the condition these men require.

But so that we need not dispute as though the matter were doubtful, the Word of God, which endures forever, is plain:

"Whenever the sinner repents, I will forget all his iniquities."

—Ezekiel 18:21–22

Whoever dares add anything to this word does not bind sins, but the mercy of God.

It is therefore no wonder that we reject auricular confession, a thing so pestilent and in so many ways destructive to the Church. Indeed, even if it were a matter indifferent in itself, nevertheless, since it produces no fruit or benefit but, on the contrary, has caused so many

errors, sacrileges, and acts of impiety, who would not say that it ought to be abolished?

They do indeed recount certain benefits which they claim arise from it and magnify them as much as they can, but all are either invented or frivolous. One they commend above the rest: namely, that the shame suffered by the one confessing is a grievous punishment, by which he is made more cautious for the future and anticipates God's vengeance by punishing himself.

As though we did not overwhelm a man with sufficient shame when we summon him before that exalted heavenly tribunal and the judgment of God! And as though a man had made great progress when shame before another man restrained him from sin, though he felt no shame at having God as witness to his evil conscience!

Indeed, their assertion is plainly false. For we commonly see that nothing gives men greater boldness and license to do evil than the belief that, after making their confession to the priest, they may wipe their mouths and say they have done nothing. Not only do they become bolder in sinning throughout the entire year, but, feeling no concern about confession during the remainder of it and never sighing after God, they never return to examine themselves. Instead, they heap sin upon sin until, as they imagine, they disgorge them all together at one time.

Once they have disgorged them, they suppose themselves completely relieved of their burden. They imagine they have removed God's judgment by handing it over to the priest, and that they have caused God to forget what they have made known to the priest.

Moreover, who gladly sees the day of confession approaching? Who goes to it with a willing heart and does not rather come reluctantly and by compulsion, as though dragged to prison by the collar? The possible exception is the priests, who cheerfully delight in recounting their deeds to one another as though exchanging amusing tales.

I shall not soil much paper recounting the horrible abominations with which auricular confession is filled. I say only this: if the holy man Nectarius, of whom we spoke above, did not act rashly in removing this confession from his church—or rather, in abolishing every memory of it—because of a single report of fornication, then the innumerable acts of procuring, fornication, adultery, and incest arising from it give us sufficient warning to do the same today.

We must now examine the power of the keys, in which the confessors place the whole strength of their kingdom. "Were the keys," they ask, "given without cause? Was it said without cause, 'Whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven'? Shall we therefore make Christ's word ineffectual?"

I answer that there was ample reason for the keys to be given. We must observe that there are two passages in which the Lord testifies that whatever his servants bind or loose on earth shall be bound or loosed in heaven. Although these passages have different meanings, the ignorance of these swine ineptly confuses them, as they are accustomed to do in everything.

One is in Saint John, where Christ, sending his Apostles to preach, breathes upon them and says:

"Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you retain, they are retained."

—John 20:22–23

The keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, which had previously been promised to Saint Peter, are now given to him together with the other Apostles. Nothing had been promised to him that he does not here receive equally with all the others.

It had been said to him:

"I will give you the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven."

—Matthew 16:19

Here they are all commanded to preach the Gospel. This is to open the gate of the heavenly Kingdom to those who seek access to the Father through Christ, and to close and bar it against those who turn aside from this way.

It had been said to him:

"Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose shall be loosed."

—Matthew 16:19

Here it is said to them all together:

"Whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you retain, they are retained."

—John 20:23

To bind, therefore, is to retain sins; to loose is to forgive them. And certainly, by the forgiveness of sins consciences are released from real fetters, while by the retaining of sins they are tightly bound.

I shall offer an interpretation of this passage that is neither overly subtle nor constrained or forced, but simple, true, and fitting. This command to forgive and retain sins, and the promise made to Saint Peter concerning binding and loosing, must be referred to nothing other than the ministry of the Word. When our Lord ordained this ministry for his Apostles, he likewise entrusted to them the office of binding and loosing.

For what is the sum of the Gospel except that all of us, being slaves of sin and death, are delivered and set free through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus? And, conversely, that those who do not acknowledge and receive Christ as their Deliverer and Redeemer are condemned to everlasting imprisonment?

When our Lord gave his Apostles this commission to carry among all the nations of the earth, he honored it with this noble testimony in order to show that it was his own commission, proceeding from him and ordained by him. He did this as a singular consolation both for the Apostles and for the hearers to whom this message was to be brought.

It was certainly necessary that the Apostles should possess great and firm assurance concerning their preaching. They were not only to undertake and carry it out amid innumerable labors, cares, hardships, and dangers, but finally to sign and seal it with their own

blood. It was therefore right that they should possess this certainty: that their preaching was neither vain nor frivolous, but full of power and efficacy.

Amid such anguish, difficulties, and dangers, they needed to be assured that they were doing the work of God, so that, though the whole world opposed and resisted them, they might know that God was for them. And although they did not have Christ, the author of their doctrine, visibly present with them on earth, they were to understand that he was in heaven confirming its truth.

On the other hand, it was necessary that the hearers should receive the clearest testimony that this doctrine was not the word of the Apostles but of God himself, and that it was not a voice originating on earth but one proceeding from heaven. For these things cannot lie within man's power: the forgiveness of sins, the promise of everlasting life, and the message of salvation.

Christ therefore testified that nothing in the preaching of the Gospel belonged to the Apostles except the ministry; that it was he who, through their mouths as through instruments, spoke and promised everything; that the forgiveness of sins which they proclaimed was the true promise of God; and that the condemnation which they pronounced was the certain judgment of God.

This testimony was given for all ages and still remains firm, making us all certain and assured that the word of the Gospel, whoever may preach it, is God's own sentence, published from his judgment seat, written in the book of life, passed, ratified, and confirmed in heaven.

Thus we understand that the power of the keys is simply the preaching of the Gospel. Indeed, with respect to men, it is not so much a power as a ministry. For Christ did not properly give this power to men, but to his Word, of which he made men the ministers.

The other passage, which we have said must be understood in another sense, is written in Saint Matthew:

"If one of your brothers refuses to hear the Church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a profane person. Truly, truly, I tell you that whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose shall be loosed."

—Matthew 18:17–18

Nevertheless, we do not make these two passages so different that they do not possess a great affinity and resemblance. First, they are alike in this: both declarations are general, and the power of binding and loosing is the same in each—namely, through the Word of God. There is also the same command to bind and loose and the same promise.

But they differ in this respect: the first passage applies particularly to preaching, to which the ministers of the Word are appointed; the second concerns the discipline of excommunication entrusted to the Church.

The Church binds the person whom she excommunicates, not by casting him into perpetual ruin and despair, but by condemning his life and conduct and warning him beforehand of his condemnation if he does not return to the right way. She looses the person whom she

receives into her communion, because she makes him a participant in the unity she possesses in Jesus Christ.

Therefore, so that no one should despise the judgment of the Church or regard it as a light matter to be condemned by the sentence of believers, our Lord testifies that such judgment is nothing other than the publication of his own sentence, and that whatever they do on earth will be ratified in heaven.

For they possess the Word of God by which they condemn the wicked and perverse, and they possess the same Word by which they receive into grace those who return to an amended life. They cannot err or disagree with God's judgment, since they judge only according to his Law, which is not an uncertain or earthly opinion, but his holy will and heavenly oracle.

Furthermore, by the Church he means not certain tonsured and shaven men, but the company of the believing people gathered in his name. Nor should we listen to those mockers who argue in this manner: "How could anyone present a complaint to the Church, which is scattered and dispersed throughout the whole world?" For Christ shows clearly enough in what follows that he speaks of every Christian congregation, according as churches may be ordered in each place or province:

"Wherever two or three are gathered in my name, I will be there in the midst of them."

—Matthew 18:20

From these two passages, which I believe I have explained briefly and plainly, these madmen, without any discernment and according to their frenzy, endeavor to establish now their confession, now their excommunications, now their jurisdictions, now their power to impose laws, and now their indulgences.

But what if with a single stroke I cut through all such claims by denying that their priests are either vicars or successors of the Apostles? This point, however, will be treated elsewhere.

For the present, from the very thing with which they wish to fortify themselves, they construct an engine that overthrows all their fortresses. For Christ did not grant his Apostles the power to bind and loose before he had imparted the Holy Spirit to them.

I therefore deny that the power of the keys belongs to anyone except one who has received the Holy Spirit. And I deny that anyone can exercise the keys unless the government and guidance of the Holy Spirit goes before him and teaches him what he ought to do.

They boast that they possess the Holy Spirit, but by their deeds they deny him—unless perhaps they imagine the Holy Spirit to be something empty and worthless, as they would have us believe. But they will not be believed.

By this engine they are entirely overthrown. For whatever door they boast of having the key to, we must always ask them whether they possess the Holy Spirit, who directs and governs the keys. If they answer that they do, we must ask them in turn whether the Holy Spirit can err. They will not dare confess this openly, although they implicitly confess it by their doctrine.

We must therefore conclude that no priests possess the power of the keys when they rashly and indiscriminately bind those whom our Lord willed to be loosed and loose those whom he willed to be bound.

When they see themselves convicted by clear experience of binding and loosing the worthy and unworthy indiscriminately, they claim power without knowledge. Although they dare not deny that knowledge is required for proper use, they nevertheless teach that the power is also given to evil stewards.

But since the power is this:

"Whatever you bind or loose on earth shall be bound or loosed in heaven,"

either the promise of Jesus Christ must be false, or those who are invested with this power must bind and loose as they ought.

They cannot evade the matter by saying that Christ's promise is limited according to the merits of the person bound or absolved. We also confess on our part that no one can be bound or absolved unless he is worthy of it. But the messengers of the Gospel and the Church possess the Word by which this worthiness is to be measured.

By this Word the messengers of the Gospel may promise to all the forgiveness of sins in Christ through faith, and may pronounce condemnation upon all who have not embraced Christ. By this Word the Church declares that fornicators, adulterers, thieves, murderers, the covetous, and the wicked have no part in the Kingdom of God,

and she binds them with the strongest bonds. By this same Word she looses those who return in repentance, comforting them.

But what sort of power is it not to know what ought to be bound or loosed, since no one can bind or loose without knowing it? Why, then, do they say that they grant absolution by the authority bestowed upon them when the absolution itself is uncertain? What use is this imaginary power when it has no valid exercise?

I have already established either that it is altogether nothing or that it is so uncertain that it ought to be regarded as nothing. For since they confess that the greater part of priests do not use the keys properly, and that the power of the keys without lawful use is ineffectual, who will assure me that the man who absolves me is a faithful steward of the keys?

And if he is an evil steward, what does he possess except this frivolous absolution?

"I do not know what ought to be bound or loosed in you, since I possess no true use of the keys. But if you deserve it, I absolve you."

As much could be said, I will not say by a layman, since that would irritate them too greatly, but by a Turk or a devil. For this amounts to saying:

"I do not possess the Word of God, which is the certain rule for binding and loosing; but authority has been given to me to absolve you, if you deserve it."

We therefore see what they intended when they determined that the keys consist of authority to discern and power to execute, while knowledge intervenes merely as a counselor for their proper use. Namely, they wished to reign intemperately and licentiously, without God and without his Word.

As for their fitting these keys to so many doors and locks, making them serve now their jurisdictions, now their confessions, now their decrees, and now their excommunications, I shall state briefly what the truth is.

When Christ commands his disciples in Saint John's Gospel to forgive and retain sins, he does not make them legislators, ecclesiastical judges, dataries, copyists, or bearers of petitions. Rather, having made them ministers of his Word, he honors them with a singular testimony.

When in Saint Matthew he grants his Church the power to bind and loose, he does not command that, by the authority of some reverend mitred and horned prelate, poor people who cannot satisfy their creditors should be excommunicated and, with candles extinguished and bells ringing, subjected to aggravated censures. Instead, he wills that through the discipline of excommunication the perversity of the wicked should be corrected by the authority of his Word and the ministry of his Church.

Furthermore, those madmen who pretend that the keys of the Church are the dispensation of the merits of Jesus Christ and the martyrs, which the Pope distributes through his bulls and indulgences, have greater need of medicine to purge their brains than of arguments to refute them. Nor is there any great need to

refute indulgences diligently, for, shaken by many assaults, they are already beginning of themselves to collapse and fail.

Certainly, the fact that indulgences maintained and preserved themselves for so long, even amid such license and excess, shows us in what darkness and error men were buried for many years. They plainly saw themselves mocked and deceived by the Pope and his peddlers of pardons. They saw the salvation of their souls made into merchandise; the purchase of Paradise assessed at a fixed price; nothing given freely; and offerings drawn from their purses under this pretense, only to be wickedly spent afterward upon fornication, procuring, and gluttony.

They saw that the greatest promoters of indulgences were themselves their greatest despisers; that this monster grew larger every day and rose with ever greater fury, without end; and that new leaden seals were continually produced to extract fresh money. Nevertheless, they received indulgences with great honor, adored them, and purchased them. Even those who saw more clearly than others still imagined that they were salutary frauds by which they might be deceived with some benefit.

At last, now that the world has permitted itself to grow a little wiser, indulgences are cooling and freezing until they vanish altogether. But many who recognize the trafficking, frauds, thefts, and acts of robbery hitherto practiced by the agents and merchants of indulgences do not perceive the source of their impiety. It is therefore useful to show here not only what indulgences are as they have been practiced, but what they are in their own proper and best nature, apart from every merely accidental abuse.

To describe them truly, we say that they are a pollution of the blood of Christ and a falsehood of the Devil, intended to turn the Christian people away from the grace of God and from the life that is Christ, and to lead them astray from the way of salvation.

For how could the blood of Christ be more shamefully polluted and dishonored than by denying that it is sufficient for the forgiveness of sins, reconciliation, and satisfaction unless its supposed deficiency is supplied from elsewhere?

Saint Peter says:

"The Law and all the Prophets bear witness to Christ that the forgiveness of sins is to be received in him."

—Acts 10:43

Indulgences grant the forgiveness of sins through Saint Peter, Saint Paul, and other martyrs.

Saint John says:

"The blood of Christ cleanses us from sin."

—1 John 1:7

Indulgences make the blood of the martyrs an ablution for sins.

Saint Paul says:

"Christ, who knew no sin, was made sin for us"—that is, a satisfaction for sin—"so that in him we might be made the righteousness of God."

—2 Corinthians 5:21

Indulgences place satisfaction for sin in the blood of the martyrs.

Saint Paul cried out to the Corinthians, testifying that Christ alone had been crucified and died for them:

"Was Paul crucified for you?"

—1 Corinthians 1:13

Indulgences determine that Saint Paul and the other saints died for us.

In another passage Paul said that Christ purchased his Church with his own blood. Indulgences establish another purchase price in the blood of the martyrs.

The Apostle says:

"By one offering Christ has perfected forever those whom he has sanctified."

—Hebrews 10:14

Indulgences contradict this, affirming that the sanctification of Christ, which otherwise would not have been sufficient, is perfected by the blood of the martyrs.

Saint John says that all the saints washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb. Indulgences teach us to wash our robes in the blood of the saints.

Certainly, although their whole doctrine is stitched and woven together from horrible blasphemies and sacrileges, this blasphemy is more outrageous than all the others. Let them acknowledge whether these are not their conclusions: that by their deaths the martyrs merited more from God than was necessary; that they possessed such an abundance of merit that part of it could overflow to others; and therefore, lest so great a benefit be vain and lost, their blood is mingled with the blood of Christ. From all these merits together, the treasury of the Church is formed and accumulated for the forgiveness of and satisfaction for sins.

They say that Saint Paul's words must therefore be understood in this way:

"In my body I supply what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for his body, which is the Church."

—Colossians 1:24

What is this but to leave Christ his name while making him merely one minor saint among the rest, scarcely distinguishable amid their multitude? Yet he alone ought to be preached, displayed, named, and looked to whenever the forgiveness of sins, cleansing, and satisfaction are in question.

Nevertheless, let us consider their arguments.

"In order," they say, "that the blood of the martyrs should not have been shed in vain, let it be communicated for the common benefit of the Church."

What? Was it not benefit enough that they glorified God by their death, sealed his truth with their blood, testified by their contempt for this present life that they sought a better one, confirmed the faith of the Church by their steadfastness, and confounded the obstinacy of its enemies?

But certainly I see what they mean. They acknowledge no benefit unless Christ ceases to be the sole Propitiator, unless he ceases to be the only one who died for our sins and was offered for our redemption.

How maliciously they corrupt the passage in which Saint Paul says that he supplied in his body what was lacking in the sufferings of Christ! For he does not refer this lack or its supply to the efficacy of redemption, cleansing, or satisfaction, but to the afflictions in which the members of Christ—that is, believers—must be exercised as long as they remain in this flesh.

He therefore means that this remains to be fulfilled in the sufferings of Christ: that, having once suffered in himself, Christ suffers daily in his members. For Christ honors us so greatly that he regards and calls our afflictions his own.

When Saint Paul adds that he suffered for the Church, he does not mean for the Church's redemption, reconciliation, or satisfaction, but for its edification and increase. Thus he says elsewhere:

"I endure all things for the sake of the elect, so that they may attain the salvation that is in Christ Jesus."

—2 Timothy 2:10

Likewise, he writes to the Corinthians that he willingly endured his tribulations for their consolation and salvation.

But let us not imagine that Saint Paul thought anything lacking in the sufferings of Christ with respect to the complete accomplishment of righteousness, salvation, and life, or that he intended to add anything to them. For he testifies so clearly and magnificently that the fullness of grace was poured out through Christ in such abundance that it far surpassed every abundance of sin.

By this grace alone all the saints have been saved, not by the merit of their life or death, as Saint Peter plainly testifies:

"We believe that through the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ we shall be saved, even as they."

—Acts 15:11

Thus, whoever locates the worthiness of any saint anywhere other than in the mercy of God does injury to God and to his Christ.

But why do I linger so long over this as though it were doubtful, when merely exposing such monstrosities is enough to defeat them?

Finally, even if we were to pass over these abominations in silence, who taught the Pope to enclose the grace of Jesus Christ in lead and parchment when the Lord willed it to be distributed through the Word of the Gospel? Certainly, either the Word of God is false or indulgences are false.

For Christ is offered to us in the Gospel with the whole abundance of heavenly blessings—with all his merits, all his righteousness,

wisdom, and grace—without any exception. Saint Paul bears witness to this when he says that the word of reconciliation was placed in the mouths of ministers so that they might carry this embassy to the world on Christ's behalf:

"We implore you to be reconciled to God. For he made him who knew no sin to be a sacrifice for sin, so that in him we might possess the righteousness of God."

—2 Corinthians 5:20–21

Indulgences, on the contrary, draw out a measured portion of Christ's grace from the Pope's cabinet, fasten it to lead and parchment and to a particular place, and separate it from the Word of God.

They assign satisfaction the third place in repentance. Everything they babble about it may be overthrown with a single word.

They say that it is not sufficient for the penitent to abstain from his former evils and amend his life for the better unless he makes satisfaction to God for what he has committed. They propose many means by which sins may be redeemed, namely tears, fasting, offerings, alms, and other works of charity. By these, they say, we must appease God, pay what is owed to his justice, compensate for our faults, and obtain pardon.

For although our Lord, through the liberality of his mercy, has forgiven us the guilt, they say that, according to the discipline of his justice, he retains the punishment. Nevertheless, everything comes down to this: that we obtain pardon for our sins through the

clemency of God, but only by means of the merit of our works, which compensate for the faults committed, so that satisfaction may be made to God's justice, which must be appeased by satisfactions.

Against such falsehoods I set the free forgiveness of sins, which is set forth in Scripture more clearly than almost anything else. First, what is forgiveness but a gift of pure liberality? A creditor who acknowledges by his receipt that payment has been made is not said to forgive a debt. Rather, it is the creditor who, without receiving anything, liberally and freely cancels the debt.

Why, moreover, does Scripture add the word freely, except to remove every notion of satisfaction? With what audacity, then, do they still erect their satisfactions when these have been so powerfully struck down?

And what of the Lord's declaration through Isaiah?

"I, even I, am he who blots out your iniquities for my own sake, and I will no longer remember your sins."

—Isaiah 43:25

Does he not openly declare that the cause and foundation of this forgiveness arise from his goodness alone?

Furthermore, since all Scripture bears witness to Jesus Christ that forgiveness of sins must be received through his name, does it not exclude every other name?

"Through his name everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins."

—Acts 10:43

How, then, do they teach that forgiveness is received through the name of satisfactions?

They must not say that, although satisfactions are the means by which forgiveness is obtained, it is nevertheless received not in their name but in the name of Jesus Christ. For when Scripture says through the name of Christ, it means that we bring nothing and claim nothing of our own, but come solely for Christ's sake. Thus Saint Paul says that God was reconciling the world to himself in his Son, for his sake, not imputing men's sins to them.

I fear that, according to their perversity, they will reply that reconciliation and forgiveness take place once, when through Christ we are received into grace at baptism, but that if we fall again after baptism, we must raise ourselves up by satisfactions; and that the blood of Christ profits us nothing in this respect except insofar as it is administered to us through the keys of the Church.

But why do I say that I fear this reply, when they openly declare their impiety at this point—not merely one or two of them, but all their schools? For their master, after confessing according to Saint Peter's teaching that Christ paid the debt of our sins upon the cross, immediately corrects this statement by adding an exception: that in baptism all the temporal punishments of sins are remitted, but after baptism they are reduced by means of repentance. Thus, in accomplishing this, the cross of Christ and our repentance cooperate together.

But Saint John speaks very differently:

"If anyone sins, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ, and he is the propitiation for our sins."

—1 John 2:1–2

Likewise:

"I write to you, little children, because your sins are forgiven through his name."

—1 John 2:12

Certainly, he is speaking to believers. When he presents Jesus Christ to them as the propitiation for sins, he shows that there is no other satisfaction by which the offense against God may be appeased. He does not say, "God was once reconciled to you through Christ; now seek other means of reconciliation." Rather, he makes Christ our perpetual Advocate, who by his intercession continually restores us to the Father's grace, and a perpetual propitiation by which sins are continually cleansed.

For what Saint John the Baptist said remains forever true:

"Behold the Lamb of God; behold him who takes away the sin of the world."

—John 1:29

It is he, I say, who takes sins away, and no other. That is, since he alone is the Lamb of God, he alone is also the offering for sins, their cleansing, and their satisfaction.

There are two things to consider here. First, the honor belonging to Christ must be preserved entirely for him. Second, consciences, assured of the forgiveness of their sins, must have peace with God.

Isaiah says that the Father laid upon his Son the iniquities of us all so that by his wound we might be healed. Saint Peter repeats this in other words:

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