Did the early Reformers
actually return to the "faith once
delivered to the saints"? Here is startling
TRUTH about the beginnings of modern Protestantism!
by Roderick C. Meredith
IN THIS shocking series of articles, we have
learned from the Bible and the record of history, how paganism early came into the professing Christian
Church. We have discussed the corruption
and spiritual depravity, which permeated the Catholic Church during the Middle
Ages.
The startling facts of history have revealed how
Martin Luther's doctrine of "faith alone"
led to spiritual decay in many areas. They have shown how Luther's political involvement with the German princes led him to condone bigamy and urge the nobles to "smite, strangle, and stab, secretly or publicly" their
peasants in the infamous Peasant's War. Even at the end of his life, we noted
Luther's ranting attack against the Jews — a prelude to their persecution by
Hitler's Third Reich.
Throughout,
we have asked: Was the Protestant movement a genuine “reformation" of the
one true Church which Jesus promised to build? (Mat. 16:18). Was it a
sincere, Spirit-led return to the "faith once delivered to the
saints?"
Now we shall continue this revealing analysis of
the Reformation with the dramatic story of its progress in Switzerland. We
shall first consider the man who began the reform movement in that land. He is
little known to most modern church-goers, yet he has exerted a powerful
influence on the beliefs and practices many Protestant Churches hold to this
day. His name is Ulrich Zwingli.
During
the early years of the Lutheran reform,
a movement which was similar in
many respects began in Switzerland. The guiding force of this movement in its
early stages was Ulrich Zwingli.
Zwingli
was born in 1484 in the mountain village of Wildhaus and was a bright student
from his youth. He studied at the University of Vienna and then went to Basel.
He became absorbed in humanism, and later began studying the Greek Testament
published by Erasmus. From this, he copied with his own hand the epistles of
Paul that he might commit them to memory.
In
addition to his scholarly interests, Zwingli was also a zealous patriot and
wished to reform the corrupt social
and political life of his country. Bribes and ecclesiastical positions were
commonly offered influential Swiss to gain their people as allies in fighting
the battles of the pope or of the French king (Hausser, p. 127-128).
After
receiving his master's degree at the University of Basel, Zwingli was appointed
as a parish priest through the influence of his uncle. He himself received for
a time a pension from the pope by consenting to the mercenary hiring of Swiss
youths as soldiers in the pope's army (Walker, p. 360).
He
was finally led to denounce this practice of mercenary hiring because of
vigorous French activities to this end in his own parish. Zwingli then was able
to effect a transfer of his activities to the famous pilgrim shrine of
Einsiedeln, which greatly enlarged his influence and reputation.
During
this time Zwingli was led to see the futility of the superstitious pilgrimages
made each year to the religious shrines in Einsiedeln, and was led to preach
against one Samson, a seller of indulgences.
He
also continued at this time his study of Scripture and began to develop a doctrine of justification similar
to Luther's. He remembered some of the humanist lectures he had heard in the
university exposing the worthlessness of indulgences, and affirming the death
of Christ as the only price of forgiveness. He began to feel that Scripture was
the only authority and, through its study, developed many points which came out
in his later teaching.
In
1518, Zwingli was transferred to the cathedral church of Zurich. He now refused
his papal pension, and opposed all foreign entanglements of the Swiss. It was not
until 1522 that Zwingli definitely broke
with Rome. Some of his parishioners broke the Lenten fast, citing
Zwingli's doctrine of the sole authority of the Scriptures (Hausser, p.132).
Zwingli
now preached and published in their defense, and the bishop of Constance sent a
commission to put down the innovations. Zwingli now appealed to the civil authorities, and the Zurich burgomaster eventually ruled that only
those things taught in Scripture were to be preached. Thus the road was open
for a religious and political revolution.
News
of the Reformation in Germany under Luther had now reached most of Switzerland,
and this was an additional encouragement to their cause. Many of Luther's
writings were also being distributed among the German-speaking Swiss, and his
doctrine of justification by faith
alone was now widely understood
(Fisher, The Reformation, p. 147).
But,
as we shall see, with the aid of the civil
authorities, who were already fed up
with Roman tyranny, Zwingli was able to bring about an even greater change than had Luther.
"Zwingli
believed that the ultimate authority was the Christian community,
and that the exercise of that authority was through the duly constituted organs
of civil government acting in accordance with the Scriptures. Only that
which the Bible commands, or for which distinct authorization can be found in
its pages, is binding or allowable" (Walker, p. 361).
Because
of his strong belief that the Bible ought to be the complete guide in doctrine and practice, Zwingli went much
farther than Luther in his reform. His attitude toward the heathen ceremonies
and feasts that had crept into the Catholic Church was much more strict than
that of Luther. "While Luther was disposed to leave untouched what the
Bible did not prohibit, Zwingli was more inclined to reject what the Bible did
not enjoin" (Fisher, The Reformation, p. 145).
Zwingli
now began the process of getting cantonal government officials to back his
teaching. He arranged for a public debate on sixty-seven articles, involving
the Catholic doctrines on the mass, good works, intercession of saints,
monastic vows, and the existence of purgatory. The Bible was to be the authority on which the discussion was to be
based. “In the resulting debate the government declared Zwingli the victor, in
that it affirmed that he had not been convicted of heresy, and directed that he
should continue his preaching. It was an endorsement of his teaching"
(Walker, p. 362).
Many
changes now took place. The priests and nuns began to marry. Images, relics,
and organs were done away. The confiscation
of ecclesiastical properties by the state began in 1524.
Zwingli himself married in this year a woman with whom he had lived since 1522,
not without considerable scandal
(Walker, p. 363).
Because
of the political value of Switzerland in the wars, the pope had not directly
interfered with the Zwinglian movement all this time. Zwingli encouraged the
spread of his movement throughout Switzerland. Most of the cities soon came
under the influence of his teaching, and even the great German city of
Strassburg had been won to the Zwinglian, rather than the Lutheran, point of
view.
It
is important to note, however, that the changes were not actually accompanied by the wholesale conversion of the
individuals in these cities to Zwingli's teachings. Rather, it was a
combination politico-religious movement aided by the
Swiss Republican Party, which came to oppose all things Roman.
It was this very alliance with politics,
which soon led to Zwingli's death on the battlefield.
In
1525, Zwingli published his main theological work, the “Commentary on True and
False Religion." Fisher summarizes his doctrinal position: “Although in most points
he held the ordinary Protestant views, he differed from them in the doctrine of the Sacrament, as
will hereafter be explained. He held to predestination as a philosophical
tenet, but taught that Christ has redeemed the entire race. He considered
original sin a disorder rather than a state involving guilt. He believed that
the sages of antiquity were illuminated by the Divine Spirit, and in his
catalogue of saints he placed Socrates, Seneca, the Catos, and even
Hercules" (The History of the
Christian Church, p. 308).
Here
we note that Zwingli so totally misunderstood the purpose and nature of God's Holy Spirit as to
imagine that it was guiding the pagan
philosophers of antiquity whose immoral
lives and teachings are clearly alluded to by the apostle Paul in his letter
to the Romans (Rom.1:18-32).
Of
course, many Protestant writers acclaim Zwingli for his "broad" views
on the heathen speculators. Hastie
lauds Zwingli's view: "With a
breadth of thought and feeling rare in his age, he recognized a divine inspiration in the thoughts and lives of the nobler spirits of antiquity,
such as Socrates, Plato, and Seneca, and hoped even to meet with them in heaven" (Hastie, The
Theology of the Reformed Church, p. 184).
Zwingli's
desire to meet these ancient philosophers in heaven is illuminating to the real
student of Scripture. He had altered many outward Catholic forms for the
better, and had adopted Luther's fundamental doctrine of justification, but his
entire concept of God and of the ultimate purpose of salvation was still essentially that of the Roman
Catholic Church.
The
Lutheran and Zwinglian branches of the Protestant movement had scarcely begun
to develop when they came into a violent controversy on the doctrine of the
Lord's Supper, as they called it. It was a basic matter for both parties, and
neither would give ground or yield to the other.
Luther
insisted that the objective presence of the glorified body and blood of Christ
was actually in the bread and wine. In some mysterious way, His body and
blood are actually received by the communicant whether he believes or not.
On
the other hand, Zwingli denied that Christ is present in any such sense, and
believed the Lord's Supper to be simply a memorial
of his atoning death.
In
the dispute, little love was shown on either side. Zwingli thought that
Luther's idea of the physical
presence of Christ in the Eucharist was a Catholic
superstition. He said that a physical
body could only be in one place, and that Christ was at the right
hand of the Father in heaven.
Luther accused Zwingli of exalting human
reason above Scripture. He tried to explain the physical presence of Christ on
ten thousand altars at once to be a scholastic assertion that the qualities of
Christ's divine nature were not communicated to His human nature and so, as
spirit, He could be everywhere at once.
Perhaps
the significant thing is that this dispute showed clearly that — whether either one was right
— they were not of the
same spirit. From then on, they could
not honestly claim that the one Holy Spirit of God was guiding them
into truth — and that they were one in Christian fellowship. “Luther declared
Zwingli and his supporters to be no Christians, while Zwingli affirmed that
Luther was worse than the Roman
champion, Eck. Zwingli's views, however, met the approval not only of
German-speaking Switzerland, but, of much of southwestern Germany. The Roman
party rejoiced at this evident division
of the Evangelical forces" (Walker, p. 364).
The
heated controversy over this point extended for many years, and included a
series of pamphlets, preachments, and discussions. The principal and, as far as
results, final discussion between the reformers on this point took place in the
castle of the Landgrave Philip of Hesse in Marburg. Philip, we remember, had
such great sexual problems of his own at this time that he
seldom partook of the Lord's Supper because of a guilty conscience (Walker, p.
377). We may add that it seems peculiar that an adulterer, a bigamist,
and a drunkard should be one of the
lay leaders in the Reformation movement.
But
he was one of the political mainstays of the Protestant movement,
and desired that the two reforming parties come to an agreement, if at all possible.
Therefore, he invited the leaders of both parties to meet at his castle and on
October 1, 1529, the discussions began.
Although Luther was suspicious of the
doctrine of the Swiss on the trinity
and the original sin, the main point of difference was the presence or absence of
Christ's physical body in the Lord's
Supper. Luther insisted on a literal interpretation of the words: "This is
my body." Zwingli held that a physical
body could not be in two places
at one time. Though the discussions lasted for several days, agreement was
impossible, and the two parties finally parted — each doubting the
"Christianity" of the other (Kurtz's Church History, Vol. II,
p. 273).
The
Landgrave arranged one final meeting of the reformers, and urged upon them the
importance of coming to some sort of understanding.
Schaff
describes this meeting: "On Monday morning he arranged another private
conference between the Saxon and the Swiss Reformers. They met for the last time
on earth. With tears in his eyes, Zwingli approached Luther, and held out the
hand of brotherhood: but Luther declined it, saying
again, 'Yours is a different spirit from ours.' Zwingli thought that
differences in non-essentials, with unity in essentials, did not forbid
Christian brotherhood. 'Let us,' he said, 'confess our union in all things in
which we agree; and, as for the rest, let us remember that we are brethren.
There will never be peace in the churches if we cannot bear differences on
secondary points.' Luther deemed the corporal presence a fundamental article,
and construed Zwingli's liberality into indifference to truth. 'I am
astonished,' he said, 'that you wish to consider me as your brother. It shows
clearly that you do not attach much importance to your doctrine.' Melanchthon
looked upon the request of the Swiss as a strange inconsistency. Turning to the
Swiss, the Wittenbergers said, 'You do not belong to the communion of the
Christian Church. We cannot acknowledge you as brethren.'
They were willing, however, to include them in that universal charity which we
owe to our enemies" (History of the
Christian Church, vol. VII, p. 644-645).
Thus
we see that Luther parted from Zwingli, not
in the feeling that the Swiss party was guided by the Holy Spirit, but that
Zwingli was guided by a different "spirit” than himself. Indeed, there is ample testimony even among
Protestant writers that the reformers did not
have the "unity of the Spirit" which only God's Spirit can bring.
Notice
Plummer's account of Zwingli's desire to avoid this pathetic disagreement: "But,
there is no need to doubt his declaration that he had carefully avoided
corresponding with Luther, because he says, 'I desired to show to all men the
uniformity of the Spirit of God, as manifested in the fact that we, who are so
far apart, are in unison one with the other, yet without collusion.' They did not remain
in unison, as all the world knows; and it is one of the many sad facts
in the history of the Reformation that Luther declared Zwingli's violent death
to be a judgment on him for his
eucharistic doctrine" (The Continental
Reformation, p. 141-142).
Zwingli's Death
Soon
after the Marburg Conference, a war broke out between the cantons of
Switzerland, which resulted in the death of Zwingli. It began as a direct
result of the attempt of the Protestant cities to starve the Catholic cantons
into submission, and ended with the Catholics repossessing some of the ground
they had previously lost.
The
trouble developed out of the persecution of the Protestants in the Catholic
cantons. The behavior of the Catholic cantons became threatening, and Zwingli
recommended a resort to violent measures to force them into submission.
"The
chief demands that were really made were that the Protestant doctrine, which
was professed in the lower cantons, should be tolerated in the upper, and that
persecution should cease there. But the question was whether even these demands
would be enforced. Zwingli was in
favor of overpowering the enemy by a direct
attack, and of extorting from them just concessions. But he was overruled, and
half measures were resorted to. The attempt was made to coerce the Catholic
cantons by nonintercourse, by thus cutting
off their supplies. The
effect was the Catholics were enabled to collect their strength, while the
Protestant cities were divided by jealousies and by disagreement as to what
might be the best policy to adopt. Zurich was left without help, to confront,
with hasty and inadequate preparation, the combined strength of the Catholic
party. The Zurich force was defeated at Cappel, on the 11th of October, 1531,
and Zwingli, who had gone forth as a chaplain with his people to battle,
fell" (Fisher, The Reformation, p. 153-156).
The
cruel truth is that Zwingli's violent death was a direct result of his own actions. He had not heeded
the Scriptural injunction to "keep himself unspotted from the world"
(James 1:27). Neglecting to apply Christ's
declaration: "My kingdom is not of this
world" (John 18:36),
Zwingli had made constant use of politics
and physical power to gain the
results he desired.
As
Fisher states: "Zwingli was a patriot
and a social reformer” (The Reformation, p. 145). Like Luther, he put his trust in the
princes of this world.
Therefore,
Zwingli's violent death on the battlefield — in an essentially religious war which he himself had urged
— seems a striking confirmation of Christ's warning: "For all they that
take the sword shall perish with the
sword" (Mat.26:52).
After
his death, the reformed party could still have gained the victory. But they
were disunited, and each city aspired
to be the metropolis of a proposed confederation — and so was jealous of the others. Consequently,
they were forced to conclude a humiliating peace, and had to yield some of the
gains they had previously made (Kurtz, p. 269).
Thus
we see division among the followers
of Zwingli, and an even greater division between them and the Lutherans.
That same spirit of mutual antagonism has possessed many of their
Protestant successors to this day.
One
has only to look about him to see the hundreds of differing Protestant churches. On occasion, for a show of unity,
they call themselves, collectively, the "Church of Christ." But they
are not of one spirit by any means.
At
the very beginning of this division among the Protestant churches, Martin
Luther was willing to face this fact. Referring to Zwingli and his followers, he
said: "Either one party or the
other must necessarily be working in
the service of Satan; the matter does not admit of discussion, there is no possibility
of compromise" (Alzog,
Universal History, p. 352).
Thus
began the religious division and confusion of our times. Our purpose is to determine if this
Protestant system — or any part of it — is a genuine restoration of the one true Church Jesus Christ said He would build.
Next
month, we will continue this gripping series with the study of John Calvin's
tremendous influence on the Reformation. You will be surprised to find out how many modern Protestant ideas really got
started!