23 Chapter 23.The Sardis Period Commences.A.D. 1529-1530.
Chapter 23. The Sardis Period Commences.
A.D. 1529-1530. In reflecting upon the important period to which we have now arrived, we have to be cautious that we do not mix the work of the Reformation with the cold formalism which grew up along with it. For no sooner had the emancipating power of the reformed doctrines been fairly tested than those who had embraced them, forgetting the sufficiency of their Head in heaven, and dreading the future assaults of Rome, placed themselves under the protection of the civil magistrates. Satisfied with their security, they presently settled down to the enjoyment of their new privileges, and ere long had sunk into a deplorable state of spiritual inertia and deadness. "I know thy works," are the Spirit’s words to the church at Sardis, "that thou hast a name that thou livest and art dead. Be watchful, and strengthen the things which remain, that are ready to die: for I have not found thy works perfect before God. Remember therefore how thou hast received and heard, and hold fast and repent." (Rev. iii. 1-3.)
All historians are agreed that the second Diet of Spires marks the commencement of Protestantism, but all, perhaps, would not go the lengths of the opinion here quoted, which nevertheless is well worthy our consideration. "At the Reformation," says W. Kelly, "in escaping from popery, Christians fell into the error of putting church power into the hands of the civil magistrate, or else made the church itself a depository of that power; whereas Christ, by the Holy Ghost, should still maintain the Lordship. . . . Protestantism was always wrong, ecclesiastically, from the very beginning, because it looked up to the civil ruler as the one in whose hand ecclesiastical authority was vested; so that if the church had been (under popery) the ruler of the world, the world now became (in Protestantism) the ruler of the church."The statement is at first startling, but we are persuaded that prayerful reflection will lead every unbiassed mind to a similar conclusion. The German Reformation did not commence with the lower classes, as was the case in Switzerland. The princes took the lead, by supporting the cause and adopting the opinions of the reformers; and when the necessity of an ecclesiastical constitution for the churches began to be seriously felt by the Lutherans, instead of going simply to the word to be instructed, they adopted for their model a system of laws and principles completed by the Landgrave of Hesse. Thus the reformed churches, from their very beginning, were purely human and political in their constitution. The good Elector of Hanover, Frederick the Wise, died in the year 1525, and his successor, John, a stout Lutheran, pushed on vigorously with the work of reform. As a means of checking the authority of the pope, he assumed the entire jurisdiction in religious matters, displacing incompetent men, and filling their places with pious and approved Lutherans. Other princes followed suit, their systems of church government being merely human organisations; and thus the first Lutheran and reformed churches were planted. Not without dissension however. Precipitate measures on matters of importance always excite opposition. Hitherto, the moderation of the Elector Frederick had kept the catholic and Lutheran parties tolerably united, but the vigorous and extreme measures of his successor alarmed the catholic princes; and they formed an alliance among themselves to check the progress of the reformed doctrines in their respective territories. The breach became irreparable. A great part of Saxony, the ancient Frisian district, and the eastern colonies of Germany were now Protestant; while Austria, Bavaria, and South German bishoprics adhered to the old religion. At one time civil war seemed inevitable. But the details of these disputes belong more to political than ecclesiastical history, and we need not speak of them at any length. As for the emperor, he had long been weighing over in his mind the expediency of assembling a Diet for the purpose of ascertaining for himself, from the lips of the Protestant princes, their reasons for separating from the ancient church. The pope, with the proceedings of the Diets of Worms and Spires still in his recollection, objected to such a course, and advised more summary measures. "Large congregations," said he, "serve only to introduce popular opinions. It is not with the decrees of councils, but with the edge of the sword, that we should decide controversies." Charles promised to reflect upon this counsel, but after halting for some time between the two opinions, decided in favour of his own, and summoned a Diet at Augsburg.*
{*The emperor shrank from shedding blood. When the aged Margrave of Brandenburg-Ansbach was commanded to conform to the old religion, he threw himself on his knees before the emperor and exclaimed, "I would sooner lose my head than God’s word." The emperor, deeply moved, replied,"Dear prince, no heads off."} No sooner were the emperor’s reasons for the convocation of the Diet known than the Protestants prepared, for submission to the Diet, a formula of confession. It was drawn up by Luther and Melanchthon, and contained a clear enunciation of the chief doctrines of the reformers, the materials being furnished for the most part by Luther; while the work of revision was left to the milder pen of Melanchthon. "I am born." said Luther, "to be a rough controversialist; I clear the ground, pull up the weeds, fill up ditches, and smooth the roads. But to build, to plant, to sow, to water, to adorn the country, belongs, by the grace of God, to Philip Melanchthon." The document, drawn up by these great men, was the celebrated "Confession of Augsburg." On the 15th of June, 1530, the emperor entered Augsburg with an imposing retinue. The protestant princes, dismounting from their horses, went forward to meet him; and Charles, with a graciousness equal to their loyalty, also dismounted, and extended his hand cordially to each in turn. Meanwhile, the papal legate, Cardinal Campeggio, had remained immovable on his mule (with which animal, indeed, there seemed to be some affinity), but finding that he had made a mistake, he sought to remedy matters by pronouncing a benediction on the assembled princes. As he raised his hands for this purpose, the emperor and his train fell on their knees, but the protestant princes remained standing. This emergency had not been provided for, and the emulations of the papal party were somewhat hindered by the incident.
Later on, mass was to be celebrated in the chapel of Augsburg to solemnise the opening of the Diet, and the Protestants gained another victory by refusing to attend. But the wily legate would not be beaten. The Elector of Saxony, in his office as Grand-Marshal of the empire, was bound to go before the emperor on such occasions, bearing the sword; and the cardinal suggested that Charles should order him "to perform his duty at the mass of the Holy Ghost, which was to open the sittings." The Elector agreed to attend, but gave the emperor to understand that it was only in discharge of a civil office. The legate was doomed to experience a second disappointment. At the elevation of the Host, when the congregation fell upon their knees in worship, the Elector remained standing. The Diet was opened on the 10th of June, and the emperor presided in person. It was thought that the question of religion would take precedence of all other matters, but little was achieved on the first day; and the reading of"The Apology" another name for the Confession was fixed for the 24th. It was the cherished hope of the Catholics that the Protestants would have no public opportunity of stating their case, and when the 24th arrived, they did all in their power — by dragging on the other business of the day — to delay the reading of the Confession, till it was too late. It was surprising how much time the cardinal required to present his credentials, and to deliver the pope’s message — how solicitous, too, was the emperor for details of the ravages of the Turks in. Austria, and of the capture of Rhodes. The precious moments were thus frittered away, till it was almost time to close the sitting. Then the objection was raised — surely a very plausible one! — that it had grown too late for the reading of "The Apology." "Deliver your Confession to the appointed officers," said Charles, "and rest assured that it shall be duly considered and answered." But here some opposition arose. It had never occurred to Charles that his rule did not extend over the consciences of his subjects, or that he was exceeding his prerogative by his evasions and deceit. The answer which he received was one for which he had not been prepared. "Our honour is at stake," said the princes, "our souls are endangered; we are publicly accused, and we ought publicly to answer." What was to be done? The princes were respectful, but they were firm and unyielding also. "To-morrow," said the emperor, "I will hear your summary not in this hall, but in the chapel of the Palatine Palace." The following day the protestant chiefs appeared before the emperor a memorable day in the history of Christianity. There were two copies of the Confession produced in court, one in Latin and one in German. Charles desired that the Latin copy should be read, but the Elector reminded him that they were in Germany, not Rome, and should therefore be permitted to speak in German. His plea was admitted, and the Chancellor Bayer, rising in his place, read the Confession in a slow, distinct voice, which was heard a considerable distance off. The reading occupied about two hours, and Pontanus, a prominent reformer, then handed both copies of the Confession to the emperor’s secretary, with these words: "With the grace of God, who will defend His own cause, this Confession will triumph over the gates of hell." The effect produced upon the people by the public reading of the Apology was encouraging beyond measure. The extreme moderation of the Protestants was a wonder-theme to many; and, says Seckendorf, "many eminently wise and prudent persons pronounced a favourable judgment of what they heard, and declared that they would not have missed hearing it for a great sum." "All that the Lutherans have said is true," observed the bishop of Augsburg, "we cannot deny it:" and testimonies of this kind were numerous. The Duke of Bavaria inquired of Doctor Eck, the foremost champion of Rome in Germany, "Well, doctor, you have given me a very different idea of this doctrine and of this affair; but, after all, can you refute by sound reasons the Confession made by the Elector and his friends?" "No," replied Eck, "by the writings of the apostles we cannot; but by the writings of the fathers and the canons of councils we can." "I understand then," returned the duke reproachfully, "that the Lutherans have their doctrine out of scripture, and we have our doctrine without scripture." The reformer himself wrote, "I thrill with joy that my life is cast in an epoch in which Christ is publicly exalted by such illustrious confessors, and in so glorious an assembly. Our adversaries thought they had succeeded to admiration, when the preachers were silenced by imperial prohibition; but they do not perceive that more is done by our public confession, than perhaps ten preachers could have accomplished. Truly Christ is not silent in the Diet. The word of God is not bound. No; if it is prohibited in the pulpits, it shall be heard in the palaces of kings."
