CHAPTER FIVE: Repentance (part 1 of 3)
CHAPTER FIVE
Repentance
After faith, we must next speak of repentance, since it is not only joined to faith but also engendered by it. For grace and forgiveness are offered to the sinner through the preaching of the Gospel so that, being delivered from the miserable bondage of sin and death, he may be transferred into the Kingdom of God. It follows that no one can receive the grace of the Gospel by faith without turning from his wandering life into the right way and devoting his whole endeavor to the practice of true repentance.
Those who think that repentance precedes faith rather than proceeds from it are moved to say so by a very weak argument. Christ and John, they say, first exhort their hearers to repentance and then declare that the Kingdom of God has drawn near. Such a command, they say, was given to the Apostles, and Saint Paul observed the same order, as Saint Luke records. But by clinging too superstitiously to the order of the syllables, they fail to consider the purpose of these statements and how they are connected. For when Jesus Christ and John the Baptist give this exhortation:
“Repent, for the Kingdom of God has drawn near.”
do they not derive the reason for repentance from the fact that Jesus Christ presents grace and salvation to us? Their words therefore amount to this: “Since the Kingdom of God has drawn near, therefore repent.”
Indeed, after recounting this preaching of Saint John, Saint Matthew says that it fulfilled Isaiah’s prophecy concerning:
“The voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord; make his paths straight.”
Yet the Prophet’s order is that this voice should begin with consolation and glad tidings.
Nevertheless, when we say that repentance originates from faith, we do not imagine that some interval of time is required for it to be engendered. We mean that a man cannot rightly devote himself to repentance unless he recognizes that he belongs to God. But no one can be assured that he belongs to God unless he has first recognized his grace. These matters will be explained more clearly as we proceed.
As for those who invent a new form of Christianity—namely, that before receiving baptism a person must spend a prescribed number of days exercising repentance before being admitted to partake of the grace of the Gospel—their error and folly have no appearance of reason. I speak of many Anabaptists, especially those who desire to be called spiritual. But these are the fruits produced by that spirit of frenzy: to appoint a few days for the practice of repentance, which ought to continue throughout the whole life of a Christian.
Certain learned men of earlier times, wishing to speak simply and purely of repentance according to the rule of Scripture, said that it consists of two parts: mortification and vivification. They interpret mortification as a sorrow and terror of heart conceived through the knowledge of sin and the apprehension of God’s judgment. For when anyone is brought to a true knowledge of his sin, he then begins to hate and detest it. He then becomes truly displeased with himself in his heart, confesses himself miserable and confounded, and wishes that he were other than he is.
Furthermore, when he is touched by the apprehension of God’s judgment—for the one immediately follows from the other—he is humbled, terrified, and cast down; he trembles, is overwhelmed with anguish, and loses all hope. This is the first part of repentance, which is called contrition.
They interpret vivification as a consolation produced by faith. It occurs when a man, confounded by the consciousness of his sin and struck with the fear of God, turns his eyes toward the goodness and mercy of God and toward the grace and salvation found in Jesus Christ. He then rises again, breathes freely, recovers his courage, and, as it were, returns from death to life.
Others, because they see that this word is used in different senses in Scripture, have distinguished two kinds of repentance. To distinguish them, they have called one legal repentance, by which the sinner, pierced by the burning wound of his sin and, as it were, crushed by terror at the wrath of God, remains bound in this anguish without being able to escape it. The other they have called evangelical repentance, by which the sinner, though grievously afflicted within himself, nevertheless rises higher, embracing Jesus Christ as the medicine for his wound, the consolation of his terror, and the harbor of refuge in his misery.
Cain, Saul, and Judas are examples of legal repentance. When Scripture describes their repentance, it means that, after recognizing the weight of their sin, they feared the wrath of God; but because they thought only of God’s vengeance and judgment, they were swallowed up in that thought. Their repentance, therefore, was nothing other than a gateway to hell. Having already entered it in this present life, they began to suffer the wrath of God’s majesty.
We see evangelical repentance in all those who, after being inwardly pierced by the sting of sin, nevertheless rise up in confidence in God’s mercy and return to him. Hezekiah was troubled when he received the message of death, but he wept and prayed; and, looking to God’s mercy, recovered confidence. The Ninevites were terrified by the dreadful proclamation of their destruction, but, clothed in sackcloth and ashes, they prayed in the hope that the Lord might turn and withdraw the fury of his wrath.
David confessed that he had sinned grievously by numbering the people, but added:
“Lord, take away the iniquity of your servant.”
When Nathan rebuked him, he acknowledged the crime of adultery and prostrated himself before God, yet at the same time expected forgiveness. Such was the repentance of those who were pierced in their hearts by Saint Peter’s preaching but, trusting in God’s goodness, asked:
“Men and brothers, what shall we do?”
Such also was Saint Peter’s repentance: he wept bitterly, yet did not cease to hope.
Although all these things are true, nevertheless, so far as I can understand from Scripture, the word repentance must be understood differently. For their inclusion of faith within repentance is contrary to what Saint Paul says in Acts: that he had testified to both Jews and Gentiles of repentance toward God and faith in Jesus Christ. There he presents faith and repentance as distinct things.
What then? Can true repentance exist without faith? Certainly not. Yet although they cannot be separated, they must nevertheless be distinguished. For just as faith cannot exist without hope, and yet faith and hope are different things, so repentance and faith, though joined together by an inseparable bond, must be united rather than confused.
I am not unaware that under the word repentance the whole of conversion to God is comprehended, of which faith is one of the principal parts. But when the nature and property of repentance have been explained, it will become evident in what sense this is said. The word used by the Hebrews to signify repentance means conversion. The word used by the Greeks means a change of mind and will. The reality corresponds well enough to these words, since the sum of repentance is that, being drawn away from ourselves, we should be converted to God and, having abandoned our former thoughts and will, should take up new ones.
Therefore, in my judgment, we may properly define repentance in this way: it is a true conversion of our life to follow God and the way he shows us, proceeding from a genuine and unfeigned fear of God, and consisting in the mortification of our flesh and our old man and in the vivification of the spirit.
In this sense we must understand all the exhortations contained in both the Prophets and the Apostles by which they admonished the people of their time to repent. For they sought to bring them to this point: that, being confounded by their sins and pierced by fear of God’s judgment, they should humble and prostrate themselves before the majesty they had offended and return to the right way. Therefore, when they speak of being converted and returning to the Lord, of repenting and doing repentance, they always aim at the same end. Saint Paul and Saint John likewise command men to produce fruits worthy of repentance, meaning that they must lead a life which in all its actions displays and testifies to such an amendment.
But before proceeding further, it will be useful to explain more fully the definition given above, in which three principal points must be considered. First, when we call repentance a conversion of life to God, we require a change not only in outward works but also in the soul, so that, having put off its old nature, it may afterward produce fruits worthy of its renewal. Wishing to express this, the Prophet commands those whom he exhorts to repentance to obtain a new heart. Thus Moses, when repeatedly showing the people of Israel what true conversion is, teaches them to turn with all their heart and all their soul—an expression frequently repeated by the Prophets.
Nevertheless, there is no passage from which we may better understand the true nature of repentance than the fourth chapter of Jeremiah, where God speaks in this manner:
“Israel, if you return, return to me. Cultivate well the ground of your heart, and do not sow among thorns. Be circumcised to the Lord, and remove all uncleanness from your heart.”
We see how he declares that, in order to begin living rightly, they can take no other starting point than to root all ungodliness out of the heart. For this reason Isaiah mocks all the endeavors of the hypocrites who in his time sought to amend their lives outwardly, yet meanwhile took no care to break the bond of ungodliness in which their hearts were entangled. In that same passage he also clearly shows what works ought to follow true repentance.
The second point was that we said repentance proceeds from a genuine fear of God. For before the sinner’s conscience can be brought to repentance, it must first be touched by the judgment of God. Once this thought is firmly fixed in a man’s heart—that God will one day ascend his judgment seat to require an account of every deed and word—it will not allow the poor sinner to rest or breathe for a single moment, but will continually prick and spur him to lead a new life, so that he may safely appear before that judgment.
Therefore, when Scripture exhorts us to repentance, it often reminds us that God will one day judge the world. Thus Jeremiah says:
“Lest my fury go forth like fire, and no one be able to extinguish it, because of your wickedness.”
Likewise, Saint Paul said in his preaching at Athens:
“Although God allowed men to walk in ignorance, he now commands them to repent, because he has appointed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness.”
The same is found in many other passages. At times Scripture shows by judgments already inflicted that God is Judge, so that sinners may consider that a far more grievous punishment awaits them unless they amend themselves in good time. We have an example of this in the twenty-first chapter of Deuteronomy.
Because the beginning of our conversion to God is hatred and horror of sin, the Apostle says that godly sorrow produces repentance. By godly sorrow he means that we not only fear being punished but hate and abhor sin because we understand that it displeases God.
We must now explain the third point: that repentance consists of two parts, the mortification of the flesh and the vivification of the spirit. Although the Prophets speak simply, accommodating themselves to the rudeness of the people with whom they had to deal, they nevertheless explain this clearly enough when they say:
“Cease from evil and do good.”
And again:
“Wash yourselves from your uncleanness; forsake your perverse life; learn to do good; devote yourselves to righteousness and mercy.”
For in calling men away from wickedness, they require that all their flesh—that is, their whole nature—be mortified, since it is full of iniquity. This is a very difficult command, because it requires us to put off ourselves and forsake our own nature. For the flesh must not be considered truly mortified unless everything we possess from ourselves has been brought to nothing and abolished. Since all the thoughts and affections of our nature are opposed to God and hostile to his righteousness, the first entrance into obedience to the Law is to renounce our nature and our entire will.
The Prophet then signifies the renewal of life by the works that follow, namely righteousness, judgment, and mercy. For it would not be enough to perform these works outwardly unless the soul were first devoted to the love and desire of them. This occurs when the Spirit of God, having transformed our souls into his holiness, so directs them to new thoughts and affections that they may be said to have become other than they were before.
Both come to us through our participation in Christ. For if we truly partake of his death, by its power our old man is crucified and the body of sin residing within us is mortified, so that the corruption of our original nature may no longer retain its vigor. If we partake of his resurrection, by it we are raised to newness of life, which corresponds to the righteousness of God.
To state it in a word, I say that repentance is a spiritual regeneration whose purpose is that the image of God, which had been obscured and almost effaced in us by Adam’s transgression, should be restored. The Apostle describes it in this way:
“With unveiled face, we reflect the glory of God and are transformed into the same image, from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of God.”
Likewise:
“Be renewed in your spirit, and put on the new man, who is created according to God in righteousness and true holiness.”
And in another place:
“You have put on the new man, who is renewed in knowledge according to the image of him who created him.”
Thus, through this regeneration, by the grace of Christ we are restored to the righteousness of God from which we fell in Adam, for God is pleased to restore fully all those whom he adopts into the inheritance of everlasting life.
It may now also be understood what the fruits of repentance are.
But because some see that the Prophets speak of repenting with weeping and fasting, clothed in sackcloth and with ashes upon the head—as is especially evident in Joel—and therefore suppose that the principal part of repentance consists in fasting and weeping, we must guard against their error.
In that passage of Joel, what is said concerning the complete conversion of our hearts to the Lord and the rending, not of our garments, but of our hearts, properly belongs to repentance:
“Turn to me with all your heart, with fasting, weeping, and mourning. Rend your hearts and not your garments.”
Weeping and fasting are not presented as perpetual consequences of repentance, but as circumstances particularly appropriate to that occasion. For because Joel had announced a dreadful vengeance of God against the Jews, he admonished them to forestall it, not only by amending their lives, but also by humbling themselves and displaying signs of sorrow.
For just as in ancient times a man accused of a crime, in order to obtain mercy from the judge, allowed his beard to grow, left his hair uncombed, and clothed himself in mourning, so it was fitting that this people, accused before God’s judgment seat, should testify by outward signs that they sought nothing but to obtain pardon from his mercy.
Although the custom of clothing oneself in sackcloth and casting ashes upon the head belonged to that time and has no application to us today, nevertheless weeping and fasting would not be inappropriate for us whenever the Lord gives us some indication of approaching calamity. For when he causes some danger to appear, he declares that he is prepared to execute vengeance and is, as it were, already armed. The Prophet therefore speaks most fittingly when he exhorts to weeping and fasting—that is, to outward testimonies of sorrow—those to whom he had declared that God’s judgment was ready to destroy them.
In the same way, pastors of the Church would not act improperly today if, whenever they perceived some approaching calamity—whether war, famine, or pestilence—they admonished their people that it would be good to pray to the Lord with weeping and fasting, provided they insisted upon the principal matter, which is to rend the heart and not the garments.
It is therefore certain that fasting is not always joined with repentance, but is particularly appropriate for those who wish to testify that they recognize themselves as having deserved God’s wrath, and yet seek pardon from his mercy. For this reason Jesus Christ associates fasting with anguish and tribulation. For he excuses the Apostles for not fasting while they were in his company, because that was a time of joy, saying that they would have occasion to fast in the time of sorrow, when he had deprived them of his company.
“The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast.”
I speak here of solemn and public fasting. For the Christian life ought to be governed with such sobriety that, from beginning to end, it displays something like a perpetual fast.
Now if it is true that the whole sum of the Gospel is comprehended in these two points—repentance and the forgiveness of sins, as is plainly evident—do we not clearly see that the Lord freely justifies his servants so that he may at the same time restore them to true righteousness through the sanctification of his Spirit?
John the Baptist, who was the messenger sent to prepare the way for Christ, had this as the sum of his preaching:
“Repent, for the Kingdom of God has drawn near.”
In calling men to repentance, he admonished them to recognize themselves as sinners and to acknowledge themselves and all their works as condemned before God, so that with all their hearts they might desire the mortification of their flesh and a new regeneration by the Spirit of God.
In proclaiming the Kingdom of God, he called them to faith. For by the Kingdom of God, which he proclaimed to be near, he meant the forgiveness of sins, salvation, life, and everything else that we receive in Christ. Therefore it is said in the other Evangelists:
“John came preaching the baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.”
This means nothing other than that he taught men, feeling themselves weary beneath the burden of their sins, to turn to God and conceive the hope of grace and salvation.
In the same manner Christ began his preaching:
“The Kingdom of God is near; repent and believe the Gospel.”
First, he declares that the treasures of God’s mercy are opened in himself. Second, he requires repentance. Finally, he requires a sure confidence in God’s promises. For this reason, when in another passage he wished briefly to summarize everything belonging to the Gospel, he said:
“It was necessary that Christ should suffer and rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be preached in his name.”
The Apostles proclaimed this after his resurrection, as when they said:
“God raised him up to give repentance to the people of Israel and the forgiveness of sins.”
Repentance is preached in the name of Christ when men understand through the doctrine of the Gospel that all their thoughts, affections, and actions are corrupt and sinful, and therefore that they must be regenerated if they wish to enter the Kingdom of God.
The forgiveness of sins is preached when men are taught that Christ has been made their redemption, righteousness, salvation, and life; that through him and on his account they are regarded as righteous and innocent before God; and thus that his righteousness is freely imputed to them.
Although we receive both repentance and forgiveness by faith, nevertheless, because the proper object of faith is the goodness of God by which our sins are forgiven, it was necessary to make the distinction we have made between faith and repentance.
Just as hatred of sin, which is the beginning of repentance, first gives us entrance into the knowledge of Christ—who communicates himself only to poor and afflicted sinners who groan, labor, are burdened and, as it were, famished, fainting beneath the weight of sorrow and misery—so, on the other hand, after we have begun repentance, we must continue in it throughout our whole life and never abandon it until death if we wish to remain and abide in Christ.
For he came to call sinners, but to call them to repentance. He brought blessing to men who were unworthy of it, but with this purpose: that each should turn from his iniquity. Scripture is full of such statements.
Therefore, when the Lord offers us forgiveness of sins, he customarily requires in return an amended life, signifying that his mercy ought to be the cause and occasion of our amendment:
“Practice judgment and righteousness, for salvation is near.”
Likewise:
“Salvation will come to Zion, and to those in Israel who turn from their iniquity.”
Again:
“Seek the Lord while he may be found; call upon him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and his perverse thoughts, and let him return to the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him.”
And again:
“Return to the Lord with amendment of life, so that your sins may be blotted out.”
Yet we must observe that this condition is added not because our amendment is the foundation upon which we obtain pardon. Rather, because the Lord wills to show mercy to men so that they may amend their lives, he shows us here the end toward which we must strive if we would obtain pardon from God.
Therefore, as long as we dwell in this prison of our body, we must continually and unceasingly fight against the corruption of our nature and against everything that is natural to us.
Plato once said that the life of a philosopher is a meditation upon death. We may say more truly that the life of a Christian is a perpetual endeavor and exercise in mortifying the flesh, until, the flesh having been put to death, the Spirit of God reigns within us.
Therefore, I consider him to have made great progress who has learned to be deeply displeased with himself—not so that he should stop there and proceed no further, but so that he may sigh after God and strive toward him; and so that, being united to the death and resurrection of Christ, he may devote himself to continual repentance. Indeed, those who are rightly touched with hatred of sin cannot do otherwise, for no one ever hates sin without having first come to love righteousness.
Because this statement is the simplest of all, it has seemed to me to agree exceedingly well with the truth of Scripture.
I now come to examine what the Sophists have taught concerning repentance, which I shall do as briefly as possible. For I do not intend to pursue the whole matter, lest this present little book, which I wish to keep concise, grow to excessive length. Besides, they have entangled a subject that was not otherwise very difficult in such lengthy disputations that it would not be easy to find a way out if we ventured too far into their labyrinths.
First, in defining repentance, they plainly show that they have never understood what it is. For they draw from the writings of the ancient Fathers certain statements that in no way express the force and nature of repentance. Such are the following: that to repent is to mourn the sins previously committed and not to commit again those that must afterward be mourned; likewise, that it is to lament past evils and no longer commit those that must be lamented; again, that it is a sorrowful vengeance, punishing in oneself what one wishes one had never committed; and again, that it is sorrow of heart and bitterness of soul for the evils one has committed or to which one has consented.
Even if we grant that these things were well said by the ancient Fathers—which a contentious person might easily deny—they were nevertheless not spoken with the intention of defining repentance, but only to exhort penitents not to fall again into the same faults from which they had been delivered.
And if definitions were to be made from everything the ancient Fathers are found to have said about repentance, they could have brought forward others that appear no less suitable, such as this statement of Chrysostom: repentance is a medicine that extinguishes sin, a gift descended from heaven, a marvelous power, and a grace surpassing the force of laws.
After defining repentance so subtly, they divide it into three parts: contrition of heart, confession of the mouth, and satisfaction by works. This division is no more fitting than their definition, although throughout their whole lives they study nothing but dialectic—the art of defining and dividing properly.
But if someone were to argue from their definition, as is accepted among dialecticians, that a man may mourn the sins he has previously committed and cease committing them without making any confession with his mouth, how will they defend their division? For if a man who makes no oral confession may nevertheless be truly penitent, repentance can exist without such confession.
If they answer that this division must be referred to repentance insofar as it is a sacrament, or that it must be understood as describing the full perfection of repentance, which their definitions do not comprehend, they have no grounds for accusing me. They must rather attribute the fault to themselves for failing to define it more clearly and precisely. For my part, according to the measure of my ability, whenever a subject is under discussion, I hold to the definition, which ought to be the foundation of the entire disputation. But let us grant them this magisterial license and examine each of their divisions in order.
The readers must here be warned that we are not engaged in a frivolous dispute, but that the matter in question is of the greatest importance above all others: namely, the forgiveness of sins. For when they require these three things for repentance—compunction of heart, confession of the mouth, and satisfaction by works—they likewise determine that these are necessary for obtaining the forgiveness of sins.
Now, if there is anything in our whole religion that we need to know, it is chiefly necessary that we understand this: by what means, in what manner, under what condition, and with what ease or difficulty the forgiveness of sins is obtained. Unless this knowledge is certain and settled, the conscience can have no rest, no peace with God, and no confidence or assurance. Instead, it continually trembles and is agitated, disturbed, tormented, and driven about. It abhors and hates the judgment of God and flees from it as much as it can. And if the forgiveness of sins depends upon the conditions to which they bind it, nothing is more miserable or more desperate than we are.
The first part they establish for obtaining pardon and grace is contrition, which they require to be duly performed—that is, fully and entirely. Yet they never determine when a person may be assured that he has adequately fulfilled this contrition. Here poor consciences are wonderfully vexed and afflicted, because they see that this due contrition is imposed upon them, yet they do not know the measure of the debt and therefore cannot be certain when they have paid what they owe.
If they say that we must do what lies within us, we shall always return to the same circle. For when will anyone dare assure himself that he has employed all his strength in mourning his sins? The result is that, after consciences have long struggled within themselves and found no harbor in which they may rest and somewhat relieve their misery, they force themselves into a measure of sorrow and compel a few tears in order to fulfil this contrition.
If they wish to accuse me of slander, let them produce a single person who has not, through this doctrine of contrition, either been driven to despair or presented before God’s judgment a feigned sorrow in place of true compunction.
We also said elsewhere that the forgiveness of sins is never granted to us without repentance, because no one can truly and sincerely implore God’s mercy unless he is afflicted and wounded by the consciousness of his sins. But we likewise added that repentance is not the cause of this forgiveness, and we removed this torment from souls—the notion that contrition must be duly and fully accomplished.
Furthermore, we taught the sinner not to look upon his compunction or his tears, but to fix both eyes upon the mercy of God. We merely declared that those who are burdened and weary are called by Christ, since he was sent to proclaim glad tidings to the poor, to heal those who are brokenhearted, to proclaim deliverance to the captives, to release the prisoners, and to comfort those who mourn.
This excludes both the Pharisees, who, being satisfied and content with their own righteousness, did not recognize their poverty, and those who despise God and, being unconcerned about his wrath, seek no remedy for their misery. For such people do not labor, are not wounded in heart, are neither bound nor captive, and do not mourn.
There is a great difference between teaching a sinner to merit the forgiveness of his sins by a full and complete contrition, which he can never accomplish, and instructing him through the knowledge of his misery to hunger and thirst for the mercy of God; between showing him his weariness, anguish, and captivity so that he may seek consolation, rest, and deliverance—in short, teaching him through his humiliation to give glory to God.
Concerning confession, there has always been great controversy between the canon lawyers and the scholastic theologians. The former have said that it was ordained only by positive law—that is, by ecclesiastical constitutions. The latter have maintained that it was ordained by divine command.
In this controversy the theologians have displayed great shamelessness, corrupting and distorting as many passages of Scripture as they cited in support of their position. And when they saw that even by this means they could not accomplish their purpose, those who wished to appear the most subtle among them devised this escape: that confession descended from divine law as to its substance, but afterward received its form from positive law.
In the same way, the most foolish among the lawyers have been accustomed to trace the legal summons to divine law because it was said to Adam:
“Adam, where are you?”
They likewise trace the defendant’s plea to divine law because Adam answered in his own defense:
“The woman whom you gave me…”
Yet they say that civil law afterward gave the form to both.
But let us see by what arguments they prove that this confession, whether in a determinate form or without one, was commanded by God. “Our Lord,” they say, “sent the lepers to the priests.” What of it? Did he send them to confession? Who ever heard that the Levitical priests were appointed to hear confessions?
They therefore resort to allegory and say that the Mosaic Law appointed the priests to distinguish between one kind of leprosy and another; that sin is spiritual leprosy; and that it belongs to the priest to judge it.
Before answering, I ask: if this passage appoints them judges of spiritual leprosy, why do they claim for themselves the examination of natural and bodily leprosy? Is this not to make sport of Scripture by twisting it in this way? “The Law entrusts the judgment of leprosy to the Levitical priests; therefore let us claim it for ourselves. Sin is spiritual leprosy; therefore let us be judges of sins.”
Now I answer:
“When the priesthood is changed, there must also be a change of the law.”
Since every priestly office has been transferred to Jesus Christ, fulfilled in him, and brought to an end in him, all the dignity and prerogative of the priesthood must likewise be transferred to him. If they take such pleasure in allegories, let them set Christ before themselves as the only Priest and gather all jurisdiction before his tribunal. We shall readily allow them this.
Moreover, their allegory is inappropriate because it mixes a law that is purely civil with the ceremonies.
Why, then, did Christ send the lepers to the priests? It was so that the priests might have no occasion to accuse him of violating the Law, which commanded that anyone healed of leprosy should present himself before the priest and be purified by a prescribed offering. Therefore, he commanded the lepers whom he had healed to fulfil what the Law required:
“Go, show yourselves to the priests, and offer the gift that Moses commanded in the Law, as a testimony to them.”
And truly, this miracle ought to have served as a testimony against them. They had declared these men to be lepers; afterward they pronounced them healed. Were they not compelled, whether they wished it or not, to become witnesses of Christ’s miracles? Christ submitted his miracle to their examination. They could not deny it; yet because they still sought evasions, this work stood as a testimony against them.
In the same sense it is said elsewhere:
“This Gospel will be preached throughout the whole world as a testimony to all nations.”
Likewise:
“You will be brought before kings and rulers as a testimony against them.”
That is, so that they might be all the more fully convicted at God’s judgment. But if they prefer to rest upon the authority of Chrysostom, he teaches that Christ did this because of the Jews, so that he would not be regarded as a transgressor of the Law.
They draw their second argument from the same source, namely allegory, as though allegories possessed great power to prove any doctrine. But I am willing to grant that they are sufficient if I do not show that I could advance them with greater plausibility than they do.
They say, then, that after our Lord had raised Lazarus, he commanded his disciples to loose him and unwrap him:
“Loose him, and let him go.”
First, they speak falsely, for nowhere is it said that our Lord gave this command to his disciples. It is far more likely that he spoke to the Jews who were present, so that the miracle might become more evident without any suspicion of fraud, and that his power might appear all the greater because, without touching Lazarus, he raised the dead by his word alone.
Certainly, I understand it in this way: to remove every evil suspicion from the Jews, our Lord willed that they themselves should remove the stone, smell the stench, perceive the certain signs of death, see Lazarus rise by the power of his voice alone, and be the first to touch him.
But let us grant that this was said to the disciples. What will they conclude? How much more plausibly might we interpret this passage allegorically by saying that our Lord intended thereby to teach his believers to loose those whom he had raised—that is, not to recall sins that he had forgotten, not to condemn as sinners those whom he had absolved, not to reproach them for what he had forgiven, and not to be severe and difficult in punishing where he was merciful, gentle, and gracious in pardoning? Let them now go and make a shield of their allegories.
They engage us a little more closely when they confirm their teaching by passages of Scripture which they regard as plain. “Those,” they say, “who came to John’s baptism confessed their sins, and Saint James commands us to confess our sins to one another.”
I answer that it is no wonder that those who wished to be baptized confessed their sins. For it has already been said that John preached the baptism of repentance and baptized with water unto repentance.
Whom, then, would he have baptized except those who confessed themselves to be sinners? Baptism is a sign of the forgiveness of sins. Who would be admitted to this sign except sinners and those who recognized themselves as such? They therefore confessed their sins in order to be baptized.
Saint James does not command without reason that we confess to one another. But if they considered what immediately follows, they would find that this passage does little to support them:
“Confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another.”
He joins mutual prayer with mutual confession. If confession must be made only to priests, then prayer must also be made only for priests. Indeed, it would follow from Saint James’s words that priests alone could confess, for in commanding us to confess to one another, he speaks only to those who are able to hear the confessions of others. He says mutually, or, if they prefer, reciprocally. But no one can confess reciprocally unless he also hears the confession of his companion. Since they grant this privilege only to priests, we gladly leave the priests, according to their own teaching, the responsibility of confessing to one another.
Let us therefore put aside such nonsense and understand the Apostle’s simple and evident meaning: that we should communicate and disclose our infirmities to one another so that we may receive mutual counsel, compassion, and consolation; and further, that, knowing the infirmities of our brothers, each of us should pray to God for them.
Why, then, do they cite Saint James against us, since we so earnestly require the confession of God’s mercy, which cannot be confessed except by those who have first confessed their misery? Indeed, we declare accursed and condemned all who do not confess themselves to be sinners before God, before his angels, before the Church—in short, before all men. For God has concluded all under sin, so that every mouth may be stopped, all flesh humbled before him, and he alone justified and exalted.
I marvel even more at the boldness with which they dare affirm that the confession of which they speak is established by divine law. We certainly acknowledge that its use is very ancient, but we can easily prove that it was at first voluntary. Indeed, their own histories relate that there was no law or constitution concerning it before the time of Innocent III. There are also clear testimonies both in the histories and in other ancient writers showing that it was a matter of ecclesiastical discipline instituted solely by the bishops, not an ordinance established by Christ or his Apostles. I shall present only one of these testimonies, which will be more than sufficient to prove what I say.
Sozomen, one of the authors of the Ecclesiastical History, relates that this was a constitution of the bishops diligently observed by the Western churches, and especially at Rome. By this he shows that it was not a universal ordinance of all the churches.
He then explains that one of the priests was specially appointed to this office. In this he completely refutes what these men have invented concerning the keys having been given indiscriminately to the whole order of priests. For it was not a common office belonging to them all, but the particular charge of one man chosen by the bishop for this purpose.
He further says that this practice continued at Constantinople until a woman, under the pretense of coming to confession, was discovered to have used it as a cover for having relations with one of the deacons of that church. Because of this offense, Nectarius, bishop of that city, a man renowned for holiness and great learning, abolished the practice of confession.
Let these asses prick up their ears. If auricular confession were a law of God, how could Nectarius have dared to abolish and overturn it? Will they accuse this holy man, esteemed and approved by all the ancient Fathers, of heresy and schism? By the same judgment they would condemn the Church of Constantinople—indeed, all the Eastern churches—which disregarded a law that, if these men speak truly, was inviolable and commanded to all Christians.
This abolition is also so frequently confirmed by Chrysostom, who likewise served as bishop of Constantinople, that it is astonishing they dare open their mouths in reply. He says:
“If you wish to blot out your sins, confess them. If you are ashamed to disclose them to a man, confess them daily within your soul. I do not tell you to disclose them to someone who may afterward reproach you. Confess them to God, who is able to cleanse them. Confess them upon your bed, so that your conscience may daily acknowledge its evil.”
Likewise:
“It is not necessary to confess before a witness. Make the acknowledgment only in your heart. This examination requires no witness; it is sufficient that God alone sees and hears you.”
Again:
“I do not summon you before men to disclose your sins to them. Examine your conscience before God. Show your wound to the Lord, who is its physician, and ask him to heal it. He is the one who reproaches nothing and compassionately heals the poor sufferer.”
Again:
“I do not require you to confess to a man who may afterward reproach you or defame you by publishing your faults. Rather, show your wounds to God, who is the good physician.”
He then introduces God speaking in this manner:
“I do not compel you to come before a public assembly. Confess your sins to me alone, so that I may preserve you.”
Shall we say that Saint Chrysostom, in speaking this way, was so rash as to release men’s consciences from bonds imposed upon them by the will of God? Certainly not. Rather, because he understood that this practice had not been ordained by God, he did not dare require it as necessary.
But to settle the whole matter more thoroughly, we shall first faithfully teach what kind of confession has been given to us in the Word of God. Afterward we shall expose their inventions concerning confession—not all of them, for who could drain so vast an ocean, but only those that belong to the substance of their doctrine.
I would not mention here that Scripture commonly uses the word confession to mean praise, were they not so shameless as to arm themselves even with such passages. Thus they say that confession produces joy in the heart, according to what is written in the Psalm:
“With the voice of joy and praise.”
Let the simple therefore carefully observe this meaning and learn to distinguish it from the other, so that they may not easily be deceived by such falsehoods.
Concerning the confession of sins, Scripture teaches us as follows. Since it is the Lord who forgives, forgets, and blots out sins, let us confess them to him in order to obtain grace and pardon. He is the physician; therefore let us show him our wounds. He is the one whom we have offended and injured; therefore let us ask him for mercy and peace. He is the one who knows hearts and sees every thought; therefore let us open our hearts before him. He is the one who calls sinners; therefore let us withdraw from ourselves and go to him.
David says:
“I made my sin known to you and did not conceal my iniquity. I said, ‘I will confess my transgression against myself to the Lord,’ and you forgave the iniquity of my heart.”
Such also is another confession of David:
“Have mercy upon me, Lord, according to your great mercy.”
Such likewise is Daniel’s confession:
“We have sinned, Lord; we have acted perversely, committed wickedness, and rebelled by turning away from your commandments.”
There are many other similar examples throughout Scripture.
Saint John says:
“If we confess our sins, the Lord is faithful to forgive them.”
To whom shall we confess them? Certainly to him. That is, we must prostrate ourselves before him with an afflicted and humbled heart; sincerely accuse and condemn ourselves before his face; and ask to be absolved by his goodness and mercy.
Whoever makes this confession from the heart before God will undoubtedly also have his tongue ready to confess whenever it is necessary to proclaim God’s mercy among men. And he will not merely disclose the secret of his heart to one person, once, and in his ear, but will freely declare both his poverty and God’s glory repeatedly, publicly, and in the hearing of the whole world.
In this manner David, after being rebuked by Nathan and pierced by the sting of conscience, confessed his sin both before God and before men:
“I have sinned against the Lord.”
That is: “I no longer wish to excuse myself or resort to evasions. Let everyone judge me to be a sinner, and let even that which I wished to conceal from God be made manifest to men.”
In this same manner we must understand the solemn confession made by the whole people at the admonition of Nehemiah and Ezra. Their example ought to be followed by the churches when they ask pardon from God, as is indeed the custom among well-ordered churches.
Moreover, Scripture commends to us two other kinds of confession. The first is made for our own benefit. Saint James refers to this when he commands us to confess our sins to one another. For he means that, by disclosing our infirmities to one another, we should mutually assist one another with counsel and consolation.
The second is made for the sake of our neighbor, when he has been offended by our fault, so that we may reconcile and appease him. Christ speaks of this in Saint Matthew:
“If you bring your offering to the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there and first go and be reconciled to your brother; afterward you may present your offering.”
For love, when it has been broken by our fault, must be restored by acknowledging our guilt and asking forgiveness.
As for the first kind, Scripture assigns no particular person to whom we must unburden ourselves, but leaves us free to choose from among the believers whomever we think best to hear our confession. Nevertheless, because pastors ought to be more suited to this than others, it is best to address ourselves principally to them.
I say they are more suitable than others because, by the duty of their office, they have been appointed by God to instruct us how we ought to overcome sin and to assure us of God’s goodness so that we may be comforted.
Therefore, whenever a believer finds himself in such perplexity of conscience that he cannot find relief without another’s assistance, let him take care not to neglect the remedy God offers him. Namely, to relieve himself and be delivered from his distress, let him privately confess to his pastor and receive consolation from him, since the pastor’s office is to comfort God’s people, both privately and publicly, through the doctrine of the Gospel.
Yet we must always observe this moderation: consciences must not be bound or brought under any yoke in matters that God has left free. No other manner or form of confession is found in Scripture than those I have described.
What do they do? They ordain that everyone, both men and women, as soon as they have reached the age of discretion, must confess all their sins to their own parish priest at least once a year. They further teach that sin is not forgiven except to those who have a firm intention of confessing themselves. If this intention is not fulfilled when opportunity is presented, no entrance into Paradise remains.
They also say that the priest possesses the power of the keys to bind or loose the sinner, because Christ’s word cannot be in vain:
“Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven.”
Yet they contend among themselves concerning this power. Some say that essentially there is only one key, namely the power to bind and loose; that knowledge is indeed required for its proper use, but that it is merely an accessory and does not belong to its essence.
Others, seeing that this granted too unrestrained a license, have numbered two keys: discernment and power. Still others, seeing that this qualification restrained the priests’ rashness, have forged new keys: namely, authority to discern, which they employ in pronouncing definitive sentences, and power, which they employ in executing those sentences. To these they have added knowledge as a counselor.
They do not dare simply to interpret binding and loosing as forgiving and blotting out sins, because they hear the Lord declaring through his Prophet:
“I, even I, am he who blots out your iniquities, Israel. I am he, and there is no other besides me.”
But they say that it belongs to the priest to pronounce who are bound or loosed and to declare whose sins are retained or forgiven. They say that the priest makes this declaration either in confession, when he absolves or retains sins, or by judicial sentence, when he excommunicates or releases from excommunication.
Finally, seeing that they still cannot extricate themselves from the objection that unworthy persons are often bound or loosed by their priests, although they are not therefore bound or loosed in heaven, they resort to this final refuge. They answer that the gift of the keys must be understood with a certain limitation: that Christ promised to approve in heaven a priestly sentence only when it was justly pronounced according to the merits of the person whom he binds or looses.