CHAPTER FIVE: Repentance (part 2 of 3)
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.”
And in another place:
“My iniquities have risen above my head; like a heavy burden, they have exceeded my strength.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
Here it is said to them all together:
“Whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you retain, they are retained.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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?”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
Likewise:
“I write to you, little children, because your sins are forgiven through his name.”
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.”
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:
“Christ bore all our sins in his body upon the tree.”
Saint Paul teaches that sin was condemned in Christ’s flesh when he was made sin for us. That is, the whole power and curse of sin were slain in his flesh when he was offered as a sacrifice for us, upon whom the entire burden of our sins was cast, together with their curse and condemnation, the judgment of God, and the sentence of death.
Here we hear nothing of those fables and falsehoods which say that after baptism none of us participates in the power of Christ’s death except insofar as he makes satisfaction for his sins by repentance. Rather, whenever we have sinned, Scripture calls us back to the one satisfaction of Christ.
Consider their accursed doctrine: that the grace of God works alone in the first forgiveness, but if we afterward fall, our works cooperate in obtaining pardon. If this were true, how could the testimonies we have cited apply to Christ?
What a vast difference there is between saying that our iniquities were laid upon Christ to be cleansed in him and saying that they are cleansed by our works; between saying that Christ is the propitiation for our sins and saying that God must be appeased by our works!
And if the conscience is to be given rest, what tranquility will it gain from hearing that sins must be redeemed by satisfaction? When will it ever be assured that its satisfaction has been fulfilled? It will therefore always doubt whether God is gracious to it and will remain in perpetual torment and horror.
Those who content themselves with light satisfactions hold God’s justice in far too much contempt and do not sufficiently consider how grievous the guilt of sin is, as we have said elsewhere. And even if we granted them that certain sins could be redeemed, what would they do when burdened with so many sins that a hundred lifetimes, devoted to nothing else, could not suffice to make satisfaction for them?
Here they take refuge in a frivolous distinction: that some sins are mortal and others venial; that the former require a great satisfaction, while the latter may be cleansed by easy remedies, such as reciting the Lord’s Prayer, taking holy water, and receiving the absolution of the Mass. In this manner they make sport of God and mock him.
But although the words mortal sin and venial sin are continually upon their lips, they have never yet known how to distinguish the one from the other, except that they make the ungodliness and uncleanness of the human heart—which is the most horrible sin before God—a venial sin.
We, on the contrary, according to the teaching of Scripture, which is the rule of good and evil, declare:
“The wages of sin is death.”
And:
“The soul that sins shall die.”
Nevertheless, the sins of believers are venial, not because they do not deserve death, but because, through the mercy of God:
“There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”
Their sins are not imputed to them but are blotted out by grace.
I know how they slander this doctrine, saying that it is the Stoic paradox which made all sins equal.
But they will easily be convicted by their own mouths. For I ask whether, among the sins they confess to be mortal, they do not acknowledge one to be greater than another. It does not therefore follow that sins are equal merely because they are equally mortal.
Now, since Scripture determines that death is the wages of sin, and that just as obedience to the Law is the way of life, so transgression is death, they cannot escape this sentence. What means will they find, then, to make satisfaction for such a multitude of sins?
Suppose satisfaction for one sin can be made in a single day. While they are making it, they will commit several more, since no day passes in which even the righteous man does not sin many times. And when they attempt to make satisfaction for several sins, they will commit still more, until they enter a bottomless abyss. I am speaking even of the most righteous.
Thus every confidence in making satisfaction has already been taken away. What, then, do they dream or expect? How do they still dare imagine that they can make satisfaction?
They endeavor to extricate themselves, but they cannot succeed. They invent a distinction between punishment and guilt. They confess that guilt is forgiven by the mercy of God, but they say that after guilt has been forgiven, punishment remains, which God’s justice requires to be paid. Satisfactions, therefore, pertain to the remission of punishment.
What inconsistency is this? They now make the forgiveness of guilt free, although elsewhere they command it to be merited by prayers, tears, and other preparations.
But everything taught to us in Scripture directly opposes this distinction. Although I believe this has already been sufficiently proved above, I shall produce several more testimonies which, I trust, will so tightly constrain these serpents that they will be unable even to bend the tips of their tails.
Jeremiah says that this is the new covenant God has made with us in his Christ:
“I will remember their iniquities no more.”
We learn from another Prophet what is meant by this, where the Lord says:
“If the righteous man turns aside from his righteousness, I will no longer remember any of his righteousness. If the sinner turns away from his iniquity, I will no longer remember any of his offenses.”
When he says that he will no longer remember the righteous man’s righteousness, he means that he will pay no regard to it in order to reward it. Conversely, therefore, not to remember sins means not to punish them.
This is what Scripture means elsewhere when it speaks of God casting sins behind his back, blotting them out like a cloud, casting them into the depths of the sea, not imputing them, and covering them. By such expressions the Holy Spirit has explained his meaning clearly enough, if only we would make ourselves teachable and listen to him.
Certainly, if God punishes sins, he imputes them; if he takes vengeance upon them, he remembers them; if he summons them to judgment, he does not keep them covered; if he examines them, he has not cast them behind his back; if he regards them, he has not blotted them out like a cloud; and if he brings them forward, he has not cast them into the depths of the sea.
Now let us hear from the Prophet upon what condition the Lord forgives sins:
“Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be made white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool.”
In Jeremiah it is likewise said:
“In that day the iniquity of Jacob will be sought, but it will not be found. Indeed, it will be nothing, because I will show mercy to the remnant whom I preserve.”
If we wish to understand briefly the meaning of these words, let us consider, by contrast, what is signified when the Lord says that he binds iniquities in a bag, gathers them into a bundle, and engraves them with an iron stylus and a point of diamond. Certainly, if these expressions mean that the Lord will punish them—as no one can doubt—then neither can I doubt that the preceding statements promise that God will not punish the offenses he forgives.
Here I must adjure the readers not to listen to my interpretations, but to give some place to the Word of God. What would Christ have accomplished for us if punishment were still required for our sins?
For when we say that he bore all our sins in his body upon the tree, we mean nothing other than that he received the whole punishment and vengeance due to our sins.
Isaiah expressed this more vividly when he said:
“The chastisement—or correction—of our peace was upon him.”
What is the chastisement of our peace except the punishment due to our sins, which we ourselves had to bear before we could be reconciled to God, had Christ not discharged it for us? Here we see clearly that Christ suffered the punishments of sins in order to deliver his people from them.
When Saint Paul speaks of the redemption accomplished by Christ, he commonly uses the Greek word apolytrosis, which does not signify merely redemption, as commonly understood, but the price and satisfaction which in French we call a ransom. For this reason, he says in one place:
“Christ gave himself as a ransom for us.”
That is, he constituted himself our surety in order to deliver us fully from all the debts of our sins.
Above all, we possess a firm argument in the Mosaic Law’s ordinance concerning the manner of expiating—that is, cleansing—sins. For there the Lord does not teach several ways of making satisfaction, but appoints sacrifices alone as the entire compensation, although he carefully sets forth in order the sacrifices that were to be offered according to the different kinds of sin.
What does this mean? He does not command the sinner to make satisfaction by good works and merits in order to obtain pardon, but requires sacrifice as the whole expiation. By doing so, does he not testify that there is only one kind of satisfaction by which his justice is appeased?
The sacrifices which the Israelites then offered were not valued as human works, but derived their worth from their truth—that is, from the one sacrifice of Christ.
As for the recompense God receives from us, the Prophet Hosea elegantly expresses it in a single statement:
“Lord, take away all our iniquities, and we will render to you the sacrifices of our lips.”
There is the forgiveness of sins; and there is the satisfaction, which is nothing but thanksgiving.
But because they, for their part, also arm themselves with testimonies from Scripture, let us now consider the arguments they bring against us.
They say that David, after being rebuked by the Prophet Nathan for his adultery and murder, received forgiveness for his sin, yet was afterward punished by the death of the son conceived in adultery. From this, they say, we are taught to redeem by satisfactions those penalties and punishments which we would otherwise have to endure after the forgiveness of our sins.
They also say that Daniel exhorted Nebuchadnezzar:
“Redeem your sins by almsgiving.”
And Solomon writes that a man’s iniquities are forgiven because of righteousness and mercy. Likewise:
“Love covers a multitude of sins.”
And in Saint Luke our Lord says concerning the sinful woman:
“Her many sins have been forgiven because she loved much.”
How perversely they always interpret the works of God! If, on the contrary, they had carefully observed something that ought not to be disregarded—namely, that there are two kinds of divine judgment—they would have perceived something altogether different in David’s correction than vengeance or punishment for sin.
It is highly profitable for us to understand the purpose of the chastisements God sends to correct our sins and how greatly they differ from the punishments he sends upon the reprobate. Therefore, I do not think it superfluous to touch briefly upon this matter.