03.12. Chapter 12 - The Rise of the Papacy

Chapter 12 The Rise of the Papacy

We have reached a period in history when we might expect that the fortunes of the Book and the followers of the Book would enter upon a time of peace and prosperity. The reign of Constantine certainly forms a remarkable era in the history of the world. In matters both political and social there was a great advance on what had gone before. But the same cannot be said of that which concerns the Church. We have now reached the time spoken of by the Lord Jesus in Matthew 13:32, when the "grain of mustard seed" had become "a tree," with the "birds of the air" lodging in its branches. Evil men, who before had "crept in unawares," now found that the professing Church was the best place for earthly preferment. The company of believers at Rome soon ceased to be known as "the Church in Rome," and became "the Church of Rome." Two little words, but how great the difference in meaning. The Christian religion was legalised, and became a State-aided institution, as paganism had been before it. This period saw also a marked distinction among the Christians themselves. In Apostolic days all believers were looked upon as God’s Kleros (clergy or lot, 1 Peter 5:2). Now sharp and very distinctive lines were drawn between the "clergy" and the "laity" (the people). Next the "clergy" began to be divided among themselves into ranks of greater or lesser precedence. Deacons considered themselves greater than readers; presbyters considered themselves greater than deacons; bishops assumed authority over presbyters, and soon there was a strife among bishops themselves as to "who should he the greatest." This unscriptural supremacy was sought for, assumed, and finally asserted by the Bishop of Rome. The finished product was the "popes," and everything that bishops should not be they have been. All alike would seem to have forgotten the divine word, "One is your Master even Christ and all ye are brethren" (Matthew 23:8). Instead of seeking in love to serve one another, they soon began to "beat" and abuse their fellow-servants and "eat and drink with the drunken" (Matthew 24:49). Not only so, but so great became their pride and assumption that they impiously declared that all who would not bow to the rule of Rome were on the sure road to hell. Outside of the Roman Church there is no Salvation. And such folly and impiety is still taught among the sect of the Roman Catholics to-day. It is folly, because the Apostles were "outside of the Roman Church." It is impiety, because it transfers the way of Salvation from the Lord Jesus, the alone Saviour of Sinners, to a perverted sect calling itself Christian, but which has both in its history and doctrines manifested everything that is unchristian and of the world. At this period, too, the bones and relics of the martyrs became articles of great importance and high mercantile value. Not only so, but in a most remarkable way the supply was always equal to the demand. Peter’s chains multiplied as fast as credulity could purchase, and blacksmiths have been making chains for Peter ever since. Even Joseph’s "latest breath" received in Nicodemus’s glove could be had for a consideration. In all this we see that the Prince of Darkness was beginning to build up a new system of opposition to the truth out of the debris of his former cruelties. From pagan persecution came papal superstition. Thus the Church gave up entirely the truth of the "heavenly calling" and adopted all the principles of the world. Even the cruelties she had suffered in the early days she, in turn, inflicted in the Middle Ages on all who truly witnessed for Christ.

Constantine now began to fashion the Church after the pattern of the State. The "priests" were made princes of the Church. (Alas! the Church had forgotten that all believers are priests.) They wore splendid robes similar to the Emperor’s. Now, also, we read of them sitting upon "Episcopal thrones" and wearing "mitres." Half-pagan and half-Jewish millinery also began to play some part, for we get a glimpse of "sacred gowns" and other trumpery ill-suited for men who were "not of the world." The bishopric became an office of dignity and influence, and, in the natural course of things, only palaces could be suitable accommodation for such magnificence. These followed next.

Thus the men who had been the mark for Satan’s keenest shafts now found themselves patronised by the Emperor and fawned upon by the world. The Church had given up its heavenly calling. We have difficulty in recognising these men as followers of the meek and lowly Jesus, who had to say when on earth, "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head" (Matthew 8:20). In the first century the Church turned the world upside down; now the world had turned the Church upside down. From this time the Church rapidly fell away from Apostolic teaching and practice, and the results were manifest to all when the Christians began to quarrel among themselves. From quarrelling they came to fighting, and as usual the victors persecuted the vanquished.

Constantine called himself the bishop of the bishops, and in order to settle their differences summoned the first Great Council to meet at Nicea. It is said that a "golden altar" was erected in the centre of the hall, and the Book, which for 30o years had been the object of the world’s fiercest enmity, placed upon it. Constantine also ordered fifty copies to be specially bound and sent to the principal Christian assemblies. Three hundred and eighteen bishops met on this occasion, and men who, a few short years before, had lived in danger of their lives found themselves now treated as guests and friends of the Emperor. Many of these men bore in their bodies the marks of the sufferings they had endured. Some were twisted out of human shape, their bones had been broken by torture and badly set afterwards. Some could not sit erect, the muscles of their sides and shoulders all drawn together after having been seared with hot irons. Others walked lame, with legs and sinews torn and burnt. When they were all invited to the splendid banquet given them by Constantine, they must have gone greatly wondering.

One result of this Council was that Christendom, for the first time in its history, found itself in the possession of a Creed. But however Scriptural this may be, we are better with the words of the Book itself than with any definitions therefrom made by men.

Another thing we must notice here before we leave. The Emperor had been besieged with petitions from all the discordant parties accusing each other. Before the debate began he called for a brazier and, declaring he would not read one of them, cast them all into the fire, adding, "It is the command of Christ that he who would be forgiven must first forgive his brother." The years that lie before us are rapidly shading down to the Dark Ages. Dark deeds took place in the Emperor’s own family, which finally led Constantine to transfer the seat of Empire to his new city on the Bosphorus, which, through the munificence of the Emperor, soon became greater and more populous than Rome itself. The departure of the Emperor saw the arrival of the "pope." The bishops of Rome from this time began to seek a place of power and influence both in things spiritual and in things temporal. When the break-up of the Western Empire took place about one hundred years later, they aspired to become earthly princes and rule over this world, forgetting alike both the words and the spirit of Him who said, "My Kingdom is not of this world." But amid all these dark clouds there were in many places silver linings; and instead of dwelling longer on the evils that everywhere abounded, we shall look at a young man who lived in Constantinople somewhere between the years A.D. 335 and 345. He was a Goth from the region of the Danube who had come to Rome as a hostage, and while there he had been converted. He conceived the purpose of preaching the Gospel among his heathen countrymen, and to this end very wisely decided to begin by giving them a translation of the Book. But as their native language had not yet been reduced to writing, he had to form an alphabet as well as make a translation of the Scriptures. Both of these things he accomplished with great success, and a MS. of this version, written in silver letters on purple vellum, is preserved at Upsala in Sweden.

Ulphilus is known as the "Apostle of the Goths." He laboured among them with much success for nearly forty years.

Another devoted servant was Severinus, the "Apostle of Noricum." He travelled through the district barefooted, "fasting and praying, and calling upon men to repent."

Prisoners of war in those days met a hard fate. If not massacred on the field of battle, they were condemned to the harshest form of slavery. Severinus interceded with King Flethus and the barbarian chiefs in their favour, collected money, redeemed many, and sent them to their homes — enriched himself by their gratitude and blessings. When the old man lay dying he sent for the King and Queen. Gisa, the Queen, was a wicked woman, who had been harsh to the captives and severe in the terms of their redemption. Stretching out his hand to her, he said, "Which lovest thou best, O Queen, thy husband, or gold and silver?"

"I love my husband better than all treasure," she replied.

"Beware, then," said the dying man, "of oppressing the innocent, lest their oppressions bring your destruction. Abstain from evil deeds and adorn your life with good works." When his royal visitors had departed, he asked his attendants to sing Psalms 150:1-6. He feebly joined with them in the closing verse, and with the words on his lips, "Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord," he passed home to his reward.

We may pass over in a few words the reputed "conversion" of Clovis, King of the Franks, in A.D. 496. The Bishop of Rheims was a different type of man from the Apostle of Noricum. What he looked for was change of profession; change of life and nature might, or might not, follow. That they did not is shown by the complaint of his neighbour, the King of Burgundy, who said of Clovis, "A cruel and covetous mind is not the symptom of a sincere conversion; let him show his faith by his works." Already a "Cathedral Church" had been erected at Rheims. We read of "costly tapestries," "sweet strains of music," "wafted perfumes," and "numberless candles." When the barbarian King, about to be baptized, entered the large building, he asked in an awestruck whisper, "Is this the kingdom of heaven?" We are inclined to question the truth of the bishop’s reply when he answered, "No, but it is the way to it." Rome was too anxious to number a king among her vassals to make the gate either strait or narrow. Clovis was baptized and became "The Eldest Son of the Church." His warlike Franks, nothing loth, changed their religion to please their master.

We notice this here only to show that Roman missionary methods now aimed only at conversion en bloc. When a king or chief was "converted" by these methods, his followers had to obey or be put to the sword. This, we know, was far from the Apostolic method, but the Christianity of the sixth century was very different from the Christianity of the first. In many cases it was merely paganism with new titles. The methods of the Book were no longer followed. We may notice here that so far it had not been forbidden, it had only been forgotten. The neglect of the Book, however, was the secret of all the errors, both in doctrine and in practice, we have been noticing. But God has ever had in this world a testimony to His Name and His truth. This we must now seek for outside the Roman Church. Or shall we say Rome was careful to try to extinguish that testimony in fire and blood as soon as she discovered it.

We now take a long step forward in history, and find ourselves in the year 1172 or thereby. Much has taken place in the interval, and Rome now has become, in type at least, "that great city which ruleth over the kings of the earth." Not only the King of the Franks, but all the Kings of Europe, Russia alone excepted, have bowed their necks to her yoke. She is now at the height of her power and pride and glory outwardly. Morally she is at the lowest depth of vice and degradation and infamy.

We are in the sunny south of France, and when things can be no darker, God is about to kindle a light that all the power and cruelty of the Pope will not be able to completely extinguish. A rich merchant of Lyons has been truly converted, and by the study of Scripture he has conceived the desire to bring back the Church to the teaching and practice of the days of the Apostles. His first thought, like that of every true Evangelist, was that the people should read the Book for themselves. At that time the only version of the Bible in Western Europe was Jerome’s Latin Vulgate, but Latin was now a dead language, and even the priests, who by this time were alone expected to possess it, were ignorant of the truths it contained. So Peter Waldo succeeded in making a translation into what was called the "Romaunt" tongue. He then gave his money and goods to the poor, and not only began to preach the Gospel himself, but collected round him other helpers like-minded to assist. Just as those who helped our English Reformers were called "Wycliffe’s Poor Priests," so Waldo’s assistants came to he known as the "Poor Men of Lyons."

Soon Waldo’s Testament spread widely through the Waldensian valleys, but as copies had to be written out by hand, and were thus expensive to produce, the young people were taught to commit large portions to memory so as to be able to repeat them in their assemblies when there was no Bible present. Many could repeat complete Gospels without an error. We wonder if even one out of the many readers of this book could do so!

These men hoped to reform the Church, and reform was long overdue. Pride and luxury marked the higher clergy; ignorance and sensuality characterised the lower. But reform was the last thing in the mind of the Pope. He sent instead a company of friars to find out the state of affairs, and take note of who should be burned when opportunity came.

Now for the first time we come across this dread word — Inquisition. It speaks of torture and tears, of suffering and blood. Inside its dark chambers of hellish cruelty we get glimpses of men wholly given over to the devil, and left free to work out their diabolical delights on the sensitive bodies of men and women by inflicting the most acute and protracted forms of suffering that Satan himself could inspire. But the result of the Inquisition made by Dominic and his fellow-friars was that a "holy war" was preached against the Waldenses. Rewards, both temporal and spiritual, were offered to the ruffian crowd to induce them to join the Pope’s army. They were told that the men, women, and children they were called upon to slay were "accursed of God and the Church" — that to shed their blood was to wash away their own sins. The Pope pledged his word that at the moment of death the angels would be in attendance to carry them to Paradise. And for all this they had only to serve a campaign of forty days. Truly the Pope made Paradise cheap. Such were the blasphemous teachings and the bloodthirsty instructions of that which professed to be the Church of Jesus Christ. But enough — here we see Romanism undisguised, Satan’s agent and counterfeit of true Christianity. At last the ruffian army marched. The three divisions were led, one by the Arch- bishop of Bordeaux, one by the Abbot of Citeaux, and the third by the Bishop of Puy. And these Churchmen were more keen for blood than even their rascal followers. The city of Beziers was their first objective. Inside its walls many had fled for refuge. The gates were forced and the city was taken. The Abbot, instead of showing mercy as we might have expected, urged on the work of death. "Kill all," he cried, "the Lord will find out His own." Seven thousand of the women and children fled to the churches. Seven thousand dead corpses lay there at night. Fired in various places, the once flourishing city became a vast funeral pile. Not one house was left standing, not one human soul left alive. Sixty thousand human beings had perished. Mohammed himself never perpetrated deeds such as these. He offered "death or the Koran." Rome’s cry was "death" without option.

There is a day coming when the Archbishop, the Abbot, and the Bishop will stand before the Judge of all the Earth, and when "He makes inquisition for blood," the blood of Beziers will not be forgotten. And so the work of extermination began, and continued in the various Alpine valleys for nearly five hundred years.

We have selected one example out of many, and that not one of the worst. The record of the sufferings and tortures inflicted on the Waldensian Christians was of such a nature that the details may not be printed in the English language. And these things were done with the full approbation of the Romish Church. The leaders were honoured, the rank and file were rewarded. And these deeds have the approval of the Roman Church to-day, for Rome never changes. What she has done in the past she would do again did opportunity offer and her policy require it. Whatever Rome may profess, we do well to remember what Rome is. But Peter Waldo in translating the New Testament had done a work mighty in its results. The thirteenth century saw but the faint shimmering of the dawn. The fourteenth was destined, in the good providence of God, to see the Book translated into the language of a people that would ultimately carry its message of life and peace, pure and unadulterated, to the utmost ends of the earth. In the fourteenth century, as we have already seen, was born John Wycliffe. In the fourteenth century, for the first time in their history, the people of England had the Book of God in their own language.