Part 25
He therefore affirms that he was not chosen by human judgment according to the customary manner of ecclesiastical pastors, but was appointed by the Lord's own word and an open revelation.
Even though the Lord chose Saint Paul by his own word through a singular privilege, he nevertheless also employed the discipline and order of an ecclesiastical calling. For Saint Luke recounts that while the Apostles were fasting and praying, the Holy Spirit said:
"Set apart for me Paul and Barnabas for the work to which I have appointed them."
—Acts 13:2
What purpose did this separation and laying on of hands serve after the Holy Spirit had testified to Paul's election, except that ecclesiastical discipline should be observed by ordaining ministers through men?
The Lord could not have approved this order by a more remarkable example. Although he had already declared that he had appointed Paul as Apostle to the Gentiles, he nevertheless willed that Paul should be established by the Church.
The same thing may be seen in the election of Matthias. Because the Apostolic office was of such importance that the Apostles did not dare appoint anyone to their company by their own judgment, they placed two men before the assembly upon one of whom the lot might fall. In this way the election would possess clear testimony from heaven, while ecclesiastical order would nevertheless not be neglected.
Certainly, our horned prelates have utterly perverted the good order that ought to prevail through their rights of collation, presentation, representation, patronage, nomination, and other forms of tyrannical domination.
"But," they say, "the wickedness of the times required it. Since the common people were influenced more by favor or hatred in electing bishops than they were governed by sound judgment, this power had to be transferred to certain chief prelates."
Even if we grant that this was the remedy for a desperate disease, now that the medicine is known to be more harmful than the disease, why is no provision made against this new evil?
They answer that the canons strictly forbid bishops to abuse their power to the detriment of the Church. Yet, if we are willing to confess the truth, the canons are more like torches kindled to burn the whole world than sound rules for preserving orderly discipline. But I leave that matter aside for the present.
Why do they cite the canons to me when their own authors treat them as pure mockery whenever they please?
Can we doubt that in ancient times the people understood themselves to be bound by most holy laws when they saw the rule for electing bishops set before them in the word of God? For this one voice of God ought rightly to have been esteemed beyond comparison more highly than a hundred million canons.
Nevertheless, when the people were corrupted by wicked passions, they paid no regard to either reason or law. In the same manner, although good laws are written today, they remain hidden and buried on paper.
Meanwhile, the accepted and established custom is to ordain as pastors of churches none but barbers, cooks, cupbearers, muleteers, bastards, and every similar kind of person. Yet I have still not said enough. Bishoprics and parishes are also bestowed as rewards for pimping and sexual immorality. When they are given to huntsmen and thieves, matters are regarded as proceeding very well.
It is absurd to defend such an abomination by appealing to the canons.
I say again that the people formerly possessed an excellent canon when the word of God taught them:
"A bishop must be blameless, sound in doctrine, not quarrelsome, and not greedy."
—1 Timothy 3:2–3; Titus 1:7–9
Why, then, was the responsibility of electing a minister transferred from the people to these prelates? They can give no answer except that the word of God could no longer be heard amid the people's disputes and factions.
Why, then, should this power not now be taken from the bishops, who not only violate every law but shamelessly and without embarrassment confound heaven and earth through their greed, ambition, and unrestrained lust?
Is it even tolerable to hear men called pastors of churches who have never seen a single sheep of their flock; who have taken possession of their church by force and violence as though it were a conquered territory; who have obtained it through litigation; who have purchased it with ready money; who have gained it through degrading services; or who entered it as little children, as though it were their inheritance and family estate?
Did the audacity of the people, corrupt and inconsiderate though it may have been, ever proceed to such lengths?
Those who behold the present condition of the Church without being deeply grieved are cruel and inhuman. Those who possess the power
to set it in order but show no concern surpass all inhumanity.
We must now address the second point concerning the calling of pastors: by what ceremony they ought to be introduced into their office.
When our Lord sent his Apostles to preach the gospel, he breathed upon them. By this sign he represented the power of the Holy Spirit that he was placing within them.
These worthy gentlemen have retained this breathing. As though they were vomiting the Holy Spirit from their throats, they mutter over the priests they are ordaining:
"Receive the Holy Spirit."
—John 20:22
Thus, they leave nothing that they do not perversely counterfeit. I do not say that they behave like performers and actors, who possess some skill and method in their gestures, but like apes eager to imitate everything without reason or judgment.
"We follow our Lord's example," they say. But our Lord did many things that he did not intend us to imitate. He said to his disciples, "Receive the Holy Spirit." He also said:
"Lazarus, come forth."
—John 11:43
And to the paralytic:
"Rise and walk."
—Matthew 9:5
Why do they not say the same to every dead person and paralytic?
Our Lord displayed the work of his divine power when, by breathing upon his Apostles, he filled them with the grace of the Holy Spirit. If these men attempt to do the same, they encroach upon God and virtually challenge him to battle. But they are very far from producing the same effect and accomplish nothing by their foolish mimicry except to mock Christ.
It is true that they are so shameless as to dare claim that the Holy Spirit is conferred through them. But experience demonstrates how true this is, for it plainly shows us that all who are consecrated as priests are changed from horses into asses and from fools into madmen.
Nevertheless, I do not dispute that point with them. I reprove only this ceremony, which should not have been drawn into a general practice, since Christ employed it as a special sign of the miracle he was performing. So far is their excuse of imitating Christ from helping their cause.
Moreover, from whom did they derive their anointing? They answer that they derived it from the sons of Aaron, from whom their order originally descended. Thus, they prefer to defend themselves with misapplied examples rather than confess that what they rashly practice is their own invention.
They fail to consider that by claiming to be successors of the sons of Aaron they dishonor the priesthood of Jesus Christ, which alone was prefigured by the Levitical priesthoods. All those priesthoods were therefore fulfilled and brought to an end in his. In him they ceased, as we have already said several times, and as the Epistle to the Hebrews testifies without need of a thousand glosses.
If they take such delight in the Mosaic ceremonies, why do they not still sacrifice oxen, calves, and lambs? They certainly retain a large part of the Tabernacle and the whole Jewish religion. Yet they lack this one thing: they do not sacrifice calves and oxen.
Who does not see that this observance of anointing is far more dangerous and pernicious than circumcision, especially when joined with superstition and a Pharisaical opinion concerning the merit of the work? The Jews placed confidence in their righteousness through circumcision; these men place spiritual graces in their anointing.
For they say that this sacred oil impresses a character that cannot be erased, which they call indelible—as though the oil could not be removed and cleansed with dust and salt, or, if it were too deeply stained, with soap.
"But this character is spiritual." What fellowship does oil have with the soul?
Have they forgotten what they cite from Saint Augustine: that if the word is separated from the water, nothing remains but water, since it is by the word that the water becomes a sacrament? What word will they produce for their grease?
Will it be the command given to Moses to anoint the sons of Aaron? But Moses was likewise commanded concerning all the priestly garments and other ornaments with which Aaron was to be clothed, and the vestments with which his sons were to be adorned. He was further commanded to kill a calf and burn its blood, to slaughter and burn rams, and to consecrate the ears and garments of Aaron and his sons with the blood of one of the rams, together with innumerable other ceremonies.
I marvel that they have omitted all these while fastening upon the anointing alone. And if they delight in being sprinkled, why do they prefer oil to blood?
They are certainly devising something ingenious: a separate religion composed of Christianity, Judaism, and paganism, as though sewn together from many pieces. Their anointing therefore stinks because it lacks salt—that is, the word of God.
There remains the laying on of hands, which the Apostles plainly observed whenever they ordained someone to the ministry of the Church. Thus Saint Paul calls the appointment by which Timothy was established as bishop the laying on of hands of the presbytery.
I am not unaware that some understand "presbytery" here to mean the assembly of elders. In my judgment, however, we should understand it more simply as referring to the ministry, since elsewhere Saint Paul mentions only himself without speaking of several persons:
"I exhort you to stir up the gift that you received through the laying on of my hands."
—2 Timothy 1:6
I believe that this practice arose from the custom of the Hebrews, who, by laying on hands, presented to God whatever they wished to be sanctified and blessed. Thus Jacob, wishing to bless Ephraim and Manasseh, laid his hands upon their heads. In the same sense, it seems to me, the Jews laid their hands upon their sacrifices according to the commandment of the law.
Therefore, by laying on hands, the Apostles signified that they offered and dedicated to God the person upon whom they laid their hands.
What, then? Someone may ask whether they were clinging to the shadows of the law. Certainly not. Rather, without superstition, they employed this sign whenever it was useful.
They laid their hands upon those for whom they asked God to give the Holy Spirit. They administered him through this sign to signify and make known that he did not proceed from them but descended from above. In sum, through this sign they commended to God the person upon whom they asked that the grace of the Holy Spirit should be conferred, which it pleased God at that time to distribute through their ministry.
But whatever the purpose of the ceremony may have been, does it immediately follow that it must be a sacrament?
The Apostles prayed upon their knees. Can no one, then, bend the knee without performing a sacrament? It is recounted that the
Apostles turned toward the east to pray. Must facing east become a sacrament for us?
Saint Paul commands:
"Let men everywhere lift up holy hands to
God."
—1 Timothy 2:8
And it is frequently related that the saints prayed with uplifted hands. Must this gesture also become a sacrament?
In short, must all the practices of the saints be turned into sacraments?
Leaving aside every dispute, then, we shall briefly explain what use may presently be made of this ceremony. If we used it, as the Apostles did, for the purpose of conferring the gifts of the Holy Spirit, it would be a mockery. For neither this commission nor this sign has been appointed to us by God.
Yet this is what the Pope and his followers continually endeavor to do: to persuade people that through such signs they confer the gifts of the Holy Spirit, as we have discussed more fully when considering their Confirmation.
But suppose that the person received as bishop is placed in the midst of the assembly of believers, instructed concerning his office, and prayed over while the elders lay their hands upon his head—not because of any other mystery, but so that he may understand that he
is being offered and dedicated to God to serve him in this office, and so that the Church may be moved to commend him to God through its united prayers. Such a laying on of hands will not be condemned by anyone of sound judgment.
Although the word "deacon" possesses a broad meaning, Scripture particularly calls those men deacons whom the Church appoints as stewards and administrators to distribute alms from the common fund for the poor. Saint Luke records their origin, institution, and office in Acts.
When the Apostles heard the complaint of the Greeks that their widows were being neglected in the distribution to the poor, they explained that they could not adequately discharge both responsibilities—the preaching of the word and the care of the poor. They therefore asked the congregation to choose from among themselves seven men of good character to whom this responsibility might be entrusted.
This, then, is the office of deacons: to care for the poor and administer what they need. Their name is derived from this office, for "deacon" signifies "minister."
Saint Luke then recounts their appointment:
"They presented the men whom they had chosen before the Apostles, who prayed and laid their hands upon them."
—Acts 6:6
I would desire the Church today to possess such deacons and to appoint them with the same ceremony—namely, the laying on of hands—concerning which we have said what seemed sufficient.
Saint Paul likewise speaks of deacons, requiring that they be dignified, not double-tongued, not given to wine, not seeking dishonest gain, well instructed in the faith, husbands of one wife, and governing their children and households well.
But what resemblance do the deacons these men fabricate bear to such ministers? I say nothing about the persons themselves, lest they complain that we wrong them by judging their doctrine according to the vices of particular men. But I maintain that they act unreasonably when they appeal to the deacons appointed by the Apostolic Church as support for the kind of deacons they portray in their doctrine.
They say that it belongs to their deacons to assist the priests and serve in everything required for the sacraments, such as Baptism and chrism; to pour the wine into the chalice and place the bread upon the paten; to arrange the altar properly; to carry the cross; and to read the Gospel and Epistle to the people. Is there in all this a single word concerning the true office of deacons?
Now let us hear how they ordain them. The bishop alone lays his hand upon the deacon whom he ordains. He places the stole over his left shoulder so that he may understand that he has taken upon himself the easy yoke of God, in order to subject everything belonging to the left side to the fear of God. He gives him a book of the Gospels so that he may know himself to be their herald.
What do any of these things have to do with deacons? They act as though someone, wishing to ordain Apostles, appointed them to burn incense, adorn images, light candles, sweep churches, set mousetraps, and chase away dogs. Who would tolerate such people being called Apostles and compared with the Apostles of Christ?
Henceforth, then, let them not pretend that those whom they ordain only for their farces and theatrical displays are deacons.
They also call them Levites and derive their origin from the sons of Levi. I shall grant them this if they will also confess what is true: that by renouncing Jesus Christ they return to the Levitical ceremonies and the shadows of the Mosaic law.
Let us now conclude generally what judgment must be made concerning the sacrament of Orders. To bring the matter to an end without repeating from the beginning what has already been explained, the following should satisfy those who are willing to be teachable and modest, for whom this book is intended.
There is no sacrament except where a ceremony appears joined to a promise—or rather, where the promise shines forth in the ceremony. Here we do not find a single syllable of any special promise. It would therefore be vain to seek a ceremony intended to confirm the promise. Moreover, no ceremony ordained by God is found here. There can therefore be no sacrament.
OF MARRIAGE
The final sacrament they count is Marriage. Everyone confesses that it was instituted by God, but no one perceived it to be a sacrament
until the time of Pope Gregory. And what person of sound judgment would ever have imagined it?
It is certainly a good and holy ordinance of God. So too are the occupations of farmers, masons, shoemakers, and barbers, yet these are not sacraments. For a sacrament requires not merely that something be a work of God, but that it be an outward ceremony ordained by God to confirm some promise. Even children can judge that there is nothing of this kind in Marriage.
"But," they say, "it is a sign of a sacred thing—namely, the spiritual union of Christ with the Church."
If by the word "sign" they mean a mark or token presented to us by God to sustain our faith, they come nowhere near the mark. If they mean merely a sign produced by way of comparison, I shall demonstrate the subtlety of their reasoning.
Saint Paul says:
"As one star differs from another in brightness, so shall it be in the resurrection of the dead."
—1 Corinthians 15:41–42
Behold one sacrament.
Christ says:
"The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed."
—Matthew 13:31
Behold another.
Again:
"The kingdom of heaven is like leaven."
—Matthew 13:33
Behold a third.
Isaiah says:
"The Lord will lead his flock like a shepherd."
—Isaiah 40:11
Behold the fourth. In another passage:
"The Lord shall go forth like a mighty man."
—Isaiah 42:13
Behold the fifth. And where would it end? According to this reasoning, there would be nothing that was not a sacrament. There would be as many sacraments as there are comparisons and parables in Scripture.
Indeed, theft itself would become a sacrament, since it is written:
"The day of the Lord shall come like a thief."
—1 Thessalonians 5:2
Who could endure these Sophists babbling so foolishly?
I readily confess that whenever we see a vine, it is very good to recall our Lord's words:
"I am the vine; you are the branches; my Father is the husbandman."
—John 15:1, 5
When a shepherd appears before us, it is good to remember Christ's words:
"I am the good Shepherd. My sheep hear my voice."
—John 10:11, 27
But if anyone were to make sacraments of such comparisons, he ought to be sent to a physician.
Nevertheless, they appeal to Saint Paul's words, in which they say the name "sacrament" is attributed to Marriage:
"He who loves his wife loves himself. No one has ever hated..."
Behold the fourth. In another passage:
"The Lord shall go forth like a mighty man."
—Isaiah 42:13
Behold the fifth. And where would it end? According to this reasoning, there would be nothing that was not a sacrament. There
would be as many sacraments as there are comparisons and parables in Scripture.
Indeed, theft itself would become a sacrament, since it is written:
"The day of the Lord shall come like a thief."
—1 Thessalonians 5:2
Who could endure these Sophists babbling so foolishly?
I readily confess that whenever we see a vine, it is very good to recall our Lord's words:
"I am the vine; you are the branches; my Father is the husbandman."
—John 15:1, 5
When a shepherd appears before us, it is good to remember Christ's words:
"I am the good Shepherd. My sheep hear my voice."
—John 10:11, 27
But if anyone were to make sacraments of such comparisons, he ought to be sent to a physician.
Nevertheless, they appeal to Saint Paul's words, in which they say the name "sacrament" is attributed to Marriage:
"He who loves his wife loves himself. No one has ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, as Christ does the Church. For we are members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones. For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh. This is a great mystery; I speak concerning Christ and his Church."
—Ephesians 5:28–32
But to handle Scripture in this manner is to confound heaven and earth. Saint Paul, wishing to show husbands the singular love they owe their wives, sets Christ before them as their example. For just as Christ poured out all the treasures of his tenderness upon the Church to which he had joined himself, so every man must maintain the same affection toward his wife.
He then says, "He who loves his wife loves himself, just as Christ loved the Church." To explain how Christ loved the Church as himself—or rather, how he made himself one with the Church, his bride—he applies to Christ what Moses recounts that Adam said.
For when our Lord brought Eve before Adam, whom Adam knew had been formed from his side, he said:
"This is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh."
—Genesis 2:23
Saint Paul testifies that all this was fulfilled in Christ and in us when he calls us members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones—or
rather, one flesh with him.
Finally, he concludes with an exclamation: "This is a great mystery." And lest anyone be misled by the ambiguity, he expressly adds that he is not speaking of the bodily union of a man and woman, but of the spiritual marriage of Christ and his Church.
It is indeed a great secret and mystery that Christ permitted a rib to be taken from himself from which we might be formed. That is, although he was strong, he willed to become weak so that we might be strengthened by his power, with the result that we do not merely live, but he lives in us.
They were deceived by the word "sacrament" used in the common translation. But was it right that the whole Church should suffer because of their ignorance?
Saint Paul used the word "mystery," which signifies a secret. Although the translator could have rendered it "secret," or simply retained the word "mystery," since it was already sufficiently familiar among Latin speakers, he preferred to translate it as "sacrament." Yet he intended no other meaning than Saint Paul conveyed by the Greek word "mystery."
Let them now cry out against the knowledge of languages, through ignorance of which they deceive themselves in so simple and manifest a matter.
But why do they fasten so firmly upon the word "sacrament" in this passage while elsewhere, whenever it suits them, they pass over it carelessly and without notice? For the translator also used it in the
First Epistle to Timothy and several times in this same Epistle to the Ephesians, everywhere with no other meaning than "mystery."
Even if this error were forgiven them, they should at least have possessed a good enough memory to remain consistent in their falsehood and not contradict themselves.
After adorning Marriage with the title of sacrament, they now call it uncleanness, pollution, and carnal defilement. What inconsistency and fickleness is this? How absurd is it to forbid priests a sacrament?
If they deny that they forbid priests the sacrament itself, but only the pleasure of the carnal act, they still do not escape. For they teach that the carnal act is a sacrament and that it represents the union we have with Christ through conformity of nature, since man and woman do not become one flesh except through bodily union.
Some of them, however, have discovered two sacraments here: one representing God and the soul in the bridegroom and bride, and the other representing Christ and the Church in the husband and wife.
Whatever the case, according to their teaching, the carnal act is a sacrament from which no Christian ought lawfully to be excluded— unless they wish to say that Christian sacraments agree so poorly with one another that they cannot coexist.
There is yet another absurdity in their doctrine. They affirm that the grace of the Holy Spirit is conferred in a sacrament, and they confess that the carnal act is a sacrament; yet they deny that the Holy Spirit is present in it.
And lest they should deceive the Church in only one matter, what a multitude of errors, falsehoods, deceptions, and wickednesses have they joined to this error! One might say that in making Marriage a sacrament they did nothing but seek a hiding place for every abomination.
For once they had secured this point, they drew to themselves jurisdiction over matrimonial causes, claiming that Marriage was a sacred matter with which lay judges ought not to interfere.
Moreover, they enacted laws to establish their tyranny, some wicked and contrary to God, and others unjust toward men, such as the following.
Marriages contracted between young persons who remain under their parents' authority, without the consent of those parents, are nevertheless to remain firm and irrevocable.
Marriage may not be contracted between cousins related within the seventh degree—for what is truly the fourth degree according to the proper understanding of the law is counted by them as the seventh— and marriages already contracted within these degrees must be annulled and dissolved.
Moreover, they fabricate degrees of relationship according to their own pleasure, contrary to the laws of all nations and even to the ordinance of Moses.
A man who has put away an adulterous wife may not take another.
Those who are spiritually related may not contract marriage with one another.
No weddings may be celebrated from Septuagesima until the octave of Easter, nor during the three weeks preceding the Nativity of Saint John, for which they now substitute the week of Pentecost and the two preceding weeks.
Nor may weddings be celebrated from Advent until Epiphany, together with innumerable other prohibitions that it would take too long to recount.
In sum, we must escape from their mire, in which we have remained longer than I would have wished. Nevertheless, I believe I have accomplished something by exposing, at least in part, the stupidity of these asses.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
On Christian Liberty
We must now treat Christian liberty, which anyone proposing to present a brief summary of evangelical doctrine ought not to neglect. For it is exceedingly necessary. Without knowledge of it, consciences scarcely dare undertake anything without doubt; they frequently hesitate and stop, and always tremble and waver.
Although we have touched upon it several times above, we have reserved the full discussion for this place. For as soon as Christian liberty is mentioned, some immediately give free rein to their desires, while others stir up great disturbances unless measures are taken at once to restrain such reckless minds, which corrupt the best things that could be presented to them.
Under the pretext of this liberty, some cast off all obedience to God and give their flesh unrestricted license. Others oppose the doctrine and refuse even to hear of this liberty, supposing that it overthrows all order, moderation, and proper discernment.
What shall we do, caught within such narrow straits? Would it not be better to leave Christian liberty aside in order to avoid such dangers?
But, as has been said, without knowledge of it neither Jesus Christ nor the truth of the gospel is properly known. We must therefore take care that this necessary doctrine is neither neglected nor buried, while at the same time restraining the absurd objections that may be raised against it.
Christian liberty, in my judgment, consists of three parts.
The first is that the consciences of believers, when seeking assurance of their justification, must rise above the law and forget all the righteousness of the law. For since the law, as has been shown above, leaves no one righteous, either we must be excluded from every hope of justification or we must be delivered from the law—and delivered in such a way that we pay no regard to our works.
For whoever supposes that he must contribute even a small measure of works in order to obtain righteousness can establish neither limit nor measure for them, but makes himself a debtor to the whole law.
Therefore, when our justification is in question, we must put away every thought of the law and our works, embrace the mercy of God alone, and turn our gaze away from ourselves to Jesus Christ alone.
The question here is not whether we are righteous, but how, though unrighteous and unworthy, we may be accounted righteous. If consciences desire any certainty concerning this matter, they must give no place to the law.
Yet no one should infer from this that the law is superfluous to believers. It continues to teach, exhort, and spur them toward what is good, although it has no place in their consciences before God's judgment. Since these two matters are very different, we must carefully distinguish them.
The whole life of Christians ought to be a meditation upon and exercise in godliness, since they are called to sanctification. The office of the law is to show them what they ought to do, thereby stirring them to pursue holiness and innocence.
But when consciences are troubled over how they may find God favorable toward them, what answer they will give, and upon what confidence they may stand if summoned to appear before God's judgment, they must not then reckon with the law or consider what it requires. Rather, they must present Jesus Christ alone as their righteousness, who surpasses every perfection of the law.
Almost the entire argument of the Epistle to the Galatians rests upon this point. It is easy to prove from Saint Paul's manner of reasoning that those are perverse interpreters who claim that he contends only for liberty from the ceremonies. For example, he says:
"Christ became a curse for us so that he might deliver us from the curse of the law."
—Galatians 3:13
Again:
"Stand firm in the liberty by which Christ has set us free, and do not permit yourselves to be subjected again to the yoke of bondage."
—Galatians 5:1
And:
"Behold, I, Paul, tell you that if you are circumcised, Christ will profit you nothing. Whoever is circumcised is a debtor to the whole law, and Christ has become of no effect to him. All of you who are justified by the law have fallen from grace."
—Galatians 5:2–4
These statements certainly concern something higher than liberty from ceremonies.
The second part of Christian liberty, which depends upon the first, is this: consciences do not serve the law as though constrained by its necessity, but, having been delivered from the law's yoke, freely obey the will of God.
For as long as they remain subject to the law, they are continually filled with fear and terror. They will therefore never be properly resolved to obey God's will voluntarily and with a free heart unless they first obtain this deliverance.
An example will show more briefly and clearly where this teaching leads. The commandment of the law is that we should love God with all our heart, all our soul, and all our strength.
To fulfill this commandment, the soul must first be emptied of every other thought, the heart purified of every other desire, and all our powers wholly devoted to God.
But even those who have advanced furthest in the way of God remain far from this goal. For although they love God with sincere affection and purity of heart, a great part of their heart and soul is still filled with fleshly desires. These hinder and draw them back, preventing them from running toward God as they ought.
They earnestly strive to advance, but the flesh partly weakens their strength and partly turns it toward itself.
What, then, shall they do when they see that they come nowhere near fulfilling the law? They will, they aspire, and they strive, but never with the perfection required. If they look to the law, they see that everything they might undertake to do remains under its curse.
No one should deceive himself by supposing that his work is not altogether evil merely because it is imperfect, or that God nevertheless accepts whatever good may be found in it. For the law, requiring perfect love, condemns every imperfection. Let anyone who holds such an opinion of his work examine it carefully, and he will discover that what he judged to be good in it is a transgression of the law.
Thus all our works remain bound under the curse of the law if they are measured by its rule. And how could poor souls take courage to perform any work from which they could expect nothing but a curse?
On the other hand, if, being delivered from this rigorous demand of the law—or rather, from all its rigor—they see themselves called by God with fatherly gentleness, they will then cheerfully and freely follow wherever he wills to lead them.
In sum, those held captive under the bonds of the law are like servants whose masters assign them a fixed amount of work for each day. Such servants believe they have accomplished nothing and dare not appear before their masters unless they have perfectly completed everything commanded them.
But children, who are treated more generously and gently by their fathers, do not fear to present to them work that is rough, halffinished, and even defective, trusting that their obedience and good intention will please their father, although they have not accomplished what they desired.
We must therefore be like children, never doubting that our most gracious and compassionate Father will accept our services, although
they are imperfect and defective, as he himself confirms through the Prophet:
"I will spare them as a father spares the children who serve him."
—Malachi 3:17
Here the word "spare" means to bear with them graciously, since he also makes mention of their service.
This assurance is exceedingly necessary for us, for without it all our labor will be in vain. God does not regard himself as honored by our works unless they are truly performed for his honor. And how could we perform them for his honor amid such fears and doubts, when we remain uncertain whether he is offended or honored by them?
For this reason, the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews attributes all the good works of the ancient Fathers to faith and estimates their value according to faith.
We have a notable passage concerning this liberty in the Epistle to the Romans, where Saint Paul concludes that sin must not rule over us because we are not under the law but under grace. For after exhorting believers:
"Do not let sin reign in your mortal body, and do not present your members to sin as instruments of unrighteousness, but dedicate yourselves to God as those raised from the dead, and your members to God as instruments of righteousness."
—Romans 6:12–13
—because they might object that they still carry with them flesh filled with sinful desire and that sin continues to dwell within them, he adds this consolation, which he derives from freedom from the law.
It is as though he said: Although believers do not yet perceive sin extinguished within them or the life of righteousness brought to perfection, they must not despair or lose courage, as though God were angry with them because of these remnants of sin. For by God's grace they have been set free from the law, so that their works are no longer examined according to its rule.
Those who infer that they may freely sin because we are no longer under the law should understand that this liberty does not belong to them at all, since its purpose is to stir and lead us toward what is good.
The third part of Christian liberty instructs us not to burden our consciences before God concerning outward things that are in themselves indifferent. It teaches us that we may either use them or abstain from them freely.
Knowledge of this liberty is also exceedingly necessary. If we lack it, our consciences will never find rest but will remain endlessly entangled in superstition.
Many people today suppose that we are unwise to raise questions about whether we are free to eat meat, whether the observance of particular days and the use of various kinds of clothing are matters of
liberty, and other such trifles, as they regard them. But these matters are more important than is commonly supposed.
For once consciences have bridled and bound themselves, they enter an endless labyrinth and a deep abyss from which they afterward find no easy escape.
If someone begins to doubt whether it is lawful to use linen for sheets, shirts, handkerchiefs, and towels, he will afterward be no more certain whether he may use hemp. Eventually, he will begin to waver over whether he may use even coarse flax fibers. For he will reason within himself that he could eat without a towel and manage without handkerchiefs.
If someone comes to believe that food slightly more delicate than other food is forbidden, he will eventually not dare, with a clear conscience before God, to eat either coarse bread or ordinary food, because the thought will always occur to him that he might sustain his life on still poorer fare.
If he has scruples about drinking good wine, he will afterward be unable with a peaceful conscience to drink spoiled or stale wine, or finally even water that is better or clearer than other water.
In short, he will be brought to such a point that he will regard stepping across a straw lying sideways as a grievous sin. For this is no minor conflict that begins within the conscience. The question at stake is whether it pleases God that we use these things or abstain from them.
God's will must precede all our deliberations and actions. Consequently, some must necessarily be cast into confusion through despair, while others, having rejected and driven away all fear of God, rush past every restraint because they cannot see the proper way.
For all who are entangled in such doubts encounter an offense to their conscience whichever way they turn.
Saint Paul says:
"I know that nothing is unclean in itself, except to the person who regards something as unclean; to him it is unclean."
—Romans 14:14
By these words, he submits all outward things to our liberty, provided our consciences possess a certain assurance of this liberty before God. But if some superstitious opinion fills us with scruples, things pure by their own nature become defiled to us.
Therefore, he afterward says:
"Blessed is the one who does not condemn himself in what he approves. But whoever has doubts about something is condemned if he does it contrary to his judgment, because he does not act from faith; and whatever does not proceed from faith is sin."
—Romans 14:22–23
Those who, caught within such narrow straits, nevertheless dare to do everything contrary to their consciences in order to appear bold and courageous—do they not thereby turn away from God?
On the other hand, those more deeply affected by the fear of God fall into dreadful fear and confusion because they are compelled to do many things against their consciences.
All who use things in either of these ways—whether with such boldness against conscience or with such fear and confusion—receive none of God's gifts with thanksgiving, although Saint Paul testifies that it is through thanksgiving alone that these gifts are sanctified for our use.
By thanksgiving, I mean that which proceeds from a heart recognizing God's goodness and generosity in his gifts. For many of them understand that the things they use are God's good gifts and praise God in his works. But since they do not believe that God has given these things to them, how can they thank him as their benefactor?
We see, in sum, the purpose of this liberty: that without scruple of conscience or disturbance of mind, we may apply God's gifts to the uses for which they were appointed to us. Through this confidence, our souls may possess peace and rest with God and acknowledge his generosity toward us.
We must carefully consider that Christian liberty, in all its parts, is a spiritual matter whose entire power consists in bringing timid consciences into peace with God—whether they labor under doubts concerning the forgiveness of their sins, are anxious and fearful
whether their imperfect works, stained by the defilements of their flesh, are pleasing to God, or remain uncertain concerning the use of indifferent things.
This liberty is therefore misunderstood by those who either use it as a pretext for their fleshly desires, abusing God's gifts for their own pleasure, or imagine that they do not possess liberty unless they display it before others and consequently pay no regard in its exercise to their weaker brothers.
Great faults are committed today in the first of these ways. Few people who possess the means to live extravagantly fail to delight in banquets, clothing, and buildings marked by excessive display and disorderly pomp. They are pleased to distinguish themselves from everyone else in these matters and take marvelous delight in their magnificence.
All this is defended and excused under the pretext of Christian liberty. They say these things are indifferent. I grant this, provided they are used indifferently. But when they are desired with covetousness, displayed with pomp and pride, and indulged in without restraint, they are defiled by such vices.
Saint Paul's words distinguish indifferent things very well:
"All things are pure to those who are pure, but to the defiled and unbelieving nothing is pure, since their minds and consciences are defiled."
—Titus 1:15
For why are curses pronounced upon those who are rich, who now possess their consolation, who are filled, who laugh, who sleep upon beds of ivory, who join possession to possession, and whose banquets are accompanied by harps, lutes, tambourines, and wine?
Certainly, ivory, gold, and riches are good creatures of God, permitted and even appointed for human use. Nor is it anywhere forbidden to laugh, to be satisfied with food, to acquire new possessions, to delight in musical instruments, or to drink wine. This is indeed true.
But when someone possesses an abundance of goods, buries himself in pleasures, intoxicates his soul and heart with present delights, and continually seeks new ones, he departs very far from the holy and lawful use of God's gifts.
Let them therefore put away their evil desires, their outrageous excess, their vain pomp and arrogance, so that they may use God's gifts with a pure conscience.
Once they have brought their hearts to this sobriety, they will possess the rule for their proper use. But where this temperance is lacking, even common and inexpensive pleasures will exceed due measure.
For this saying is most true: beneath gray cloth or coarse wool there often dwells a heart clothed in purple; and, on the other hand, beneath silk and velvet a humble heart is sometimes concealed.
Therefore, let each person live according to his condition, whether poorly, moderately, or richly, yet in such a way that all recognize that
they are nourished by God in order to live, not to immerse themselves in pleasures.
Let them understand that this is the rule of Christian liberty: that they learn with Saint Paul to be content with whatever is set before them and know how to bear both humiliation and honor, hunger and abundance, poverty and wealth.
"I have learned to be content in whatever condition I am. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In everything and in all circumstances, I have learned both to be filled and to hunger, both to abound and to suffer need."
—Philippians 4:11–12
The second fault of which we have spoken is also widespread. Many behave as though their liberty were neither safe nor complete unless other people witnessed it, and therefore exercise it imprudently and without discernment. By this inconsiderate use, they frequently offend their weaker brothers.
Today we see some who do not think they have properly preserved their liberty unless they take possession of it by eating meat on Friday. I do not reprove them for eating meat, but we must cast from our minds the false notion that we possess no liberty unless we display it at every opportunity.
We must recognize that by our liberty we gain nothing before men, but possess it before God, and that it consists as much in abstaining as in using. If someone truly understands that before God it is altogether indifferent whether he eats meat or eggs or dresses in red
or black, that is enough. His conscience is already delivered, and it is to the conscience that the benefit of this liberty belongs.
Therefore, even if he abstains from meat for the rest of his life and never wears more than one color, he is no less free. Indeed, he is free precisely because he abstains with a free conscience.
But the people we have described err most dangerously by paying no regard to the weakness of their brother. We must bear with that weakness in such a way that we do nothing rashly by which he may be caused to stumble.
Someone will say that it is sometimes proper to display our liberty before men. I grant this point also. But we must exercise the greatest care to preserve moderation, so that we do not neglect those who are weak, whom our Lord has particularly commended to our care.
I shall therefore say something here about offenses: how they must be distinguished, which ones must be avoided, and which may be disregarded, so that everyone may determine how his liberty should be exercised among men.
We must observe the common distinction between an offense that is given and one that is taken, since this distinction possesses clear testimony from Scripture and properly expresses its intended meaning.
If anyone, through carelessness, intemperance, or indiscreet rashness, does something at an improper time or place by which the weak and untaught are caused to stumble, it may be said that he has given offense, since the offense arose through his fault. In general, an
offense may be said to be given whenever the fault proceeds from the person who performs the action.
An offense is said to be taken when something that was not done intemperately or indiscreetly is nevertheless twisted by the wickedness and malice of others into an occasion of offense. In this case, no offense was given, but wicked people take offense without cause.
Only the weak are injured by the first kind of offense. Those offended by the second are people whose troublesome severity always seeks something to attack and condemn. We shall therefore call the one the offense of the weak and the other the offense of the Pharisees.
We must regulate and moderate the exercise of our liberty so that it yields to the ignorance of our weaker brothers, but not to the severity of the Pharisees.
Saint Paul shows abundantly in many passages how much consideration we owe to the weak:
"Receive those who are weak in faith."
—Romans 14:1
Again:
"Let us no longer judge one another, but rather take care not to place a stumbling block or occasion of falling before our brother."
—Romans 14:13
He makes many other statements directed toward the same end, which are better read in their proper place than recited here.
The substance of his teaching is:
"We who are strong ought to bear with the weaknesses of the weak and not please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good and edification."
—Romans 15:1–2
Elsewhere, he says:
"Take care that your liberty does not become an offense to those who are weak."
—1 Corinthians 8:9
And:
"Eat whatever is sold in the marketplace, asking no question for conscience' sake. I speak of your conscience, not another person's."
—1 Corinthians 10:25, 29
In sum:
"Conduct yourselves so that you give no offense to Jews, Greeks, or the Church of God."
—1 Corinthians 10:32
Again, in another passage
"You have been called to liberty, my brothers. Only do not use your liberty as an opportunity for the flesh, but serve one another through love."
—Galatians 5:13
This is certainly true. Our liberty has not been given to us against our weaker neighbors, to whom love subjects us and makes us servants in every respect. Rather, it has been given so that, possessing peace with God in our consciences, we may also live peaceably with men.
As for the offense of the Pharisees, our Lord's words show us what regard we should have for it. He commands us to leave them alone and pay no attention to them:
"They are blind guides of the blind."
—Matthew 15:14
The disciples had warned him that the Pharisees were offended by his teaching. He replied that they should be left alone and that no concern should be shown for their offense.
Nevertheless, the matter remains uncertain unless we understand whom we ought to regard as weak and whom as Pharisees. Without this distinction, I do not see how we can exercise our liberty amid occasions of offense, since its exercise would always be exceedingly dangerous.
But it seems to me that Saint Paul clearly determines, both by teaching and example, how far we must restrain our liberty and when we must maintain it despite offense.
When he took Timothy as his companion, he circumcised him; yet he would never consent to circumcise Titus. The actions were different, but there was no change in either his judgment or his intention.
In circumcising Timothy, although he was free from all men, he made himself the servant of all:
"To the Jews I became as a Jew, that I might gain the Jews; to those under the law, as under the law, that I might gain those under the law; to the weak, as weak, that I might gain the weak. I became all things to all men, that I might save many."
—1 Corinthians 9:19–22
Here we have a proper moderation of our liberty: we may freely abstain from exercising it whenever doing so produces some good.
On the other hand, Saint Paul testifies to his purpose in steadfastly refusing to circumcise Titus when he writes:
"Even Titus, who was with me, though he was a Greek, was not compelled to be circumcised. This matter arose because of false brothers who had secretly entered to spy upon the liberty we possess in Jesus Christ, so that they might reduce us to bondage. We did not yield to them in submission for a
single moment, so that the truth of the gospel might remain with you."
—Galatians 2:3–5
Here, likewise, we see the necessity of defending our liberty whenever the commandments of false apostles threaten to overthrow it in weak consciences.
Everywhere we must serve in love and have regard for the edification of our neighbors. Saint Paul says elsewhere:
"All things are lawful for me, but not all things are beneficial. All things are lawful for me, but not all things edify. Let no one seek his own advantage, but the good of his neighbor."
—1 Corinthians 10:23–24
Nothing is clearer or more certain than this rule: we should exercise our liberty when doing so contributes to the edification of our neighbor. If its exercise is not beneficial to our neighbor, we must abstain from it.
Some imitate Saint Paul's prudence in abstaining from liberty while seeking nothing less than to serve love. For the sake of their own rest and tranquility, they desire every mention of liberty to be buried.
Yet sometimes it is no less lawful and necessary for the edification of our neighbors to exercise our liberty than to restrain it for their good.
Everything I have taught concerning the avoidance of offenses must be confined to indifferent things, which are in themselves neither good nor evil. Necessary duties must not be neglected for fear of causing offense. Here too, it is true, we must have regard for love— but in such a way that God is not offended for the sake of our neighbor.
I do not approve of the intemperance of those who do nothing except through tumult and would rather tear everything apart by violence than carefully unfasten it. On the other hand, neither do I accept the reasoning of those who, while leading others by their example into countless blasphemies, pretend that they must act as they do to avoid offending their neighbors. As though they were not meanwhile building up their neighbors' consciences in evil—especially when they remain perpetually stuck in the same mire, without any hope of emerging from it.
When the question arises of instructing their neighbor by doctrine or by the example of their lives, they say that he must be fed with milk. Yet under this pretext they maintain him in harmful and destructive errors. Saint Paul indeed says that he fed the Corinthians with milk; but if the Mass had existed at that time, would he have offered its sacrifice in order to give them milk to drink? No, for milk is not poison.
I fed you with milk, not solid food.
—1 Corinthians 3:2
They therefore lie when they pretend to nourish those whom they cruelly murder under the appearance of such gentleness. And even if
we granted that such concealment might be good for a time, how long will they continue feeding their children with the same milk? If they never grow strong enough to bear even the lightest solid food, it is certain that they were never nourished with wholesome milk.
Since, therefore, the consciences of believers, by the privilege of the liberty they possess in Jesus Christ, have been freed from the bonds and necessary observance of those things which the Lord willed to be indifferent to them, we conclude that they are free and exempt from the authority of all men. For it is not fitting either that Jesus Christ should be deprived of the praise due to him for so great a benefit, or that consciences should be deprived of its fruit.
Nor should we regard as a matter of slight importance something that we see cost Jesus Christ so dearly—something he purchased not with gold or silver, but with his own blood.
You were redeemed, not with corruptible things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ.
—1 Peter 1:18–19
Thus Saint Paul does not hesitate to say that Christ's death is made vain for us if we place ourselves under subjection to men.
For in several chapters of the Epistle to the Galatians, he treats of nothing else but that Christ is buried for us—or rather, wholly extinguished—unless our consciences remain steadfast in their liberty. They would certainly fall from that liberty if they could be bound by laws and constitutions according to the pleasure of men.
But as this matter is most worthy of being known, so it needs to be explained more clearly. For today, as soon as any word is spoken about abolishing human constitutions, great uproars immediately arise, stirred up partly by seditious persons and partly by slanderers, as though all obedience to men were being rejected and overthrown.
To prevent this misunderstanding, we must observe that there is a twofold government in man. One is spiritual, by which the conscience is instructed and taught in the things of God and in all that pertains to godliness. The other is political or civil, by which a person is taught the duties of humanity and civility that must be observed among men.
These are commonly called spiritual and temporal jurisdiction— terms suitable enough, signifying that the first kind of government concerns the life of the soul, while the second serves this present life —not by providing men with food or clothing, but by establishing laws according to which they may live honorably and justly with one another.
The first has its seat within the soul; the second merely forms and regulates outward conduct. Let the reader, therefore, permit me to call the one the spiritual kingdom and the other the civil or political kingdom.
Since we have distinguished them, we must consider each separately and not confuse them with one another. For there are, as it were, two worlds within man, which may be governed by different kings and by different laws.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Of Ecclesiastical Power
Since everything previously said concerning Christian liberty belongs to the spiritual kingdom, in this discussion we are not contending against the authority of civil laws, but against the power usurped by those who desire to be regarded as pastors of the Church, though in truth they are its most cruel executioners. For they claim that the laws they make are spiritual and concern the soul, affirming that they are necessary to eternal life. By this means the kingdom of Christ is assailed and violated, and the liberty he has given to the consciences of believers is oppressed and overthrown.
For the present, I leave aside the impiety upon which they establish the observance of their laws, saying that by keeping them we obtain forgiveness of sins and righteousness, and placing in them the whole substance of religion. At present I shall contend only for this point: that no necessity should be imposed upon consciences in matters from which they have been set free by Jesus Christ, and that without this freedom—as we have already taught—they can have no rest before God.
If consciences would retain the grace they have once obtained in Jesus Christ, they must acknowledge Christ alone, their Liberator, as their King, and be governed by the one law of liberty, which is the
sacred word of the gospel. They must not be subjected to any servitude or held captive under any bonds.
These lawmakers indeed pretend that their constitutions are laws of liberty, a gracious yoke, and a light burden. But who does not see that these are sheer falsehoods? As for them, they need not fear feeling the weight of their laws, since, having cast off all fear of God, they despise their own laws as boldly as they despise the laws of God. But those who possess any concern for their salvation are far from regarding themselves as free so long as they remain bound by such chains.
We see how carefully Saint Paul avoided burdening consciences, not daring to bind them in even a single matter. And not without reason. He certainly knew that a mortal wound would be inflicted upon consciences if necessity were imposed upon them in matters that God had left free. By contrast, one could scarcely number the constitutions that these men have rigorously commanded under penalty of eternal death and imposed upon men as necessary to salvation. Among them are many that are exceedingly difficult to observe; and when taken together, their sheer multitude makes them impossible to keep. How, then, could those who find themselves burdened with so difficult a load escape severe anguish and perplexity?
We must therefore conclude briefly, in accordance with what we have taught, that our consciences are in no way bound or obligated before God by any such constitutions—those made for the purpose of binding our souls before God and imposing an obligation upon them as though they commanded things necessary to salvation. Such are
all the constitutions today called ecclesiastical, which they declare necessary for rightly honoring and serving God. And as they are innumerable, so they constitute just as many chains for holding souls captive.
What, then? Is there no ecclesiastical power? Many simple people, whom we especially desire to instruct, are troubled by this objection. We answer that we certainly acknowledge an ecclesiastical power, but only such a power as Saint Paul describes—one given for edification and not for destruction.
The authority which the Lord gave me for building you up, and not for destroying you.
—2 Corinthians 10:8
Those who use this power rightly regard themselves as nothing more than ministers of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God.
Let a man so regard us as ministers of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God.
—1 Corinthians 4:1
This power may be very properly defined as the ministry of the word of God. For Jesus Christ limited it in this way when he commanded his Apostles to go and teach all nations the things he had commanded them.
Go therefore and teach all nations . . . teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.
—Matthew 28:19–20
I wish that those charged with governing the Church of God clearly understood that this law was appointed for them. In this way the dignity of true pastors would be preserved unimpaired, while those who unjustly tyrannize over the people of God would no longer boast falsely of possessing such power.
Here we must recall what was stated elsewhere: that whatever dignity or authority Scripture attributes to the Prophets and priests under the old law, or to the Apostles and their successors, is not attributed to their persons, but to the ministry and office to which they were appointed—or, to speak more clearly, to the word of God, which they were called to administer.
For if we examine them all in order—Prophets and priests, Apostles and disciples alike—we shall find that they were never given any power to command or teach except in the name and according to the word of the Lord. God willed that Moses, the first of the Prophets, should be heard, but what did he command or even proclaim except what he had received from the Lord? For he could do nothing else.
At another time God appointed his Prophets over kingdoms and nations, to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant. But the reason is added: because he had put his word in their mouths.
Behold, I have put my words in your mouth. See, I have appointed you this day over nations and kingdoms, to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.
—Jeremiah 1:9–10
For not one of all the Prophets opened his mouth without first receiving the word of God. Hence they so frequently repeat such expressions as these: "The word of the Lord"; "The burden of the Lord"; "The mouth of the Lord has spoken"; "A vision received from the Lord"; and "The Lord of hosts has spoken."
And rightly so. Isaiah confessed that his lips were unclean, while Jeremiah said that he did not know how to speak because he was a child. What could have proceeded from their unclean and childish mouths except foolish or impure things, if they had spoken their own words? But when their mouths became instruments of the Holy Spirit, they were made pure and holy.
In short, we have an excellent description in Ezekiel showing us the whole office of the Prophets:
Son of man, I have appointed you a watchman over the house of Israel. Therefore you shall hear the word from my mouth and warn them on my behalf.
—Ezekiel 3:17
When our Lord commands him to hear the word from his mouth, does he not forbid him to invent anything of his own? And what does it mean to proclaim on the Lord's behalf except to speak in such a way that he may confidently declare that the word he brings is not his own, but the Lord's?
The same thing is said in Jeremiah in other words:
Let the prophet who has a dream recount the dream, and let him who has my word speak my word faithfully. What has straw in common with wheat? says the Lord.
—Jeremiah 23:28
Likewise, God commanded that the word of the law should be sought from the mouths of the priests, but he added the reason: because they are messengers of the Lord of hosts.
For the lips of a priest should preserve knowledge, and men should seek the law from his mouth, for he is the messenger of the Lord of hosts.
—Malachi 2:7
Let us now come to the Apostles, who are honored with many excellent titles. They are called the light of the world and the salt of the earth. They are to be heard as Jesus Christ himself, and whatever they bind or loose on earth shall be bound or loosed in heaven.
Yet their very name shows how far their authority extends in the exercise of their office. They must be Apostles—that is, men sent forth—who do not babble whatever pleases them, but faithfully deliver the commission of the one who sent them.
Christ said to them:
As the Father has sent me, even so I send you.
—John 20:21
And he expressly testifies how he was sent by the living Father:
My doctrine is not mine, but his who sent me.
—John 7:16
Surely it would be an intolerable affront to the Apostles and their successors to exempt them from the law to which Jesus Christ himself submitted.
Yet the case of Jesus Christ is very different. For Christ, being the eternal and only Counselor of the Father, and having always dwelt in the Father's bosom, received his commission from the Father in such a manner that all the treasures of knowledge and wisdom were hidden within himself.
From this fountain all the Prophets drew whatever heavenly doctrine they ever taught. From this same fountain Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and all others to whom God was pleased to reveal himself drew all the spiritual knowledge they possessed.
For if the statement of Saint John the Baptist has always been true— as certainly it has—
No one has ever seen God; the only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, has revealed him to us.
—John 1:18
—and likewise Christ's own declaration—
No one knows the Father except the Son, and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.
—Matthew 11:27
—then how could those ancient fathers have understood or proclaimed the mysteries of God unless they had been taught by the Son, who alone enters into the Father's secret counsels?
Those holy men, therefore, never knew God except by beholding him in his Son as in a mirror; and those holy Prophets never spoke of him except by the Spirit of that same Son. Or, if anyone prefers it expressed in this way: God never revealed himself to—
[Text missing from the supplied excerpt.]
—the sheep and kill the wolves; that they guide the teachable by instruction and exhortation; that they constrain and correct the rebellious and obstinate; that they bind and loose, thunder and strike with lightning—but all through the word of God.
Now, if this power is compared with that claimed by the spiritual tyrants who masquerade as bishops and rulers of souls, there will be no greater resemblance between them than there is between Christ and Belial.
First, they would have our faith depend upon their judgment. Whatever they determine must be regarded by us as fixed and beyond doubt: whatever they approve, we must approve as certain; and whatever they condemn, we must regard as condemned. From this arise such conclusions as these: that the Church possesses
authority to create new articles of faith; that the authority of the Church is equal to that of Holy Scripture; that no one is a Christian who does not accept all the Church's constitutions, both affirmative and negative, either by explicit or implicit faith; and other such claims.
Furthermore, they would subject our consciences to their dominion, so that we must obey whatever laws they please to establish. Meanwhile, following their own desires and despising the word of God, they invent doctrines which they require us to believe and enact laws whose observance they make necessary.
As to the first point, they unjustly claim the freedom to teach new doctrine and construct new articles of faith—a freedom which we have recently shown was denied even to the Apostles. And if they still refuse to yield, Saint Paul declares that he has no desire to exercise dominion over the faith of the Corinthians, although he had been appointed their Apostle by the Lord.
Not that we exercise dominion over your faith, but we are fellow workers for your joy.
—2 Corinthians 1:24
And if he had approved such freedom to teach, he would not have established this rule: that when two or three Prophets speak, the others should judge, and that if something is revealed to another, the first should be silent.
Let two or three prophets speak, and let the others judge. But if something is revealed to another who is sitting by, let
the first be silent.
—1 Corinthians 14:29–30
For by doing this, he exempted no one from having his authority subjected to the judgment of the word of God.
He speaks still more clearly elsewhere, freeing our faith from all human traditions and inventions when he says that faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.
Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.
—Romans 10:17
If faith depends upon the word of God alone, looks to it, and rests upon it, what place remains for the word of men?
As for the power to establish laws, since it was unknown to the Apostles and has so frequently been forbidden to the ministers of the Church by the word of God, I am astonished that these men dare to claim it, contrary both to the example of the Apostles and to God's explicit prohibition. For what Saint James says is not obscure:
He who judges his brother judges the law. But if you judge the law, you are not a keeper of the law but its judge. There is one Lawgiver, who is able to save and to destroy.
—James 4:11–12
The same truth had previously been declared in Isaiah:
The Lord is our King; the Lord is our Lawgiver; the Lord is our Judge; he will save us.
—Isaiah 33:22
We hear Saint James pronounce that he who possesses authority over the soul is Lord of life and death, salvation and condemnation. Since no man can claim such dignity for himself, we must therefore acknowledge God alone as King of our souls, for he alone possesses the power to save and condemn—or, in the words of Isaiah, he alone must be acknowledged as King, Judge, Lawgiver, and Savior.