An Undeceptions Podcast. We have the opportunity to mend a critical moment of our history by moving beyond the controversies and disagreements that have often prevented us from understanding one another.
Back in 2016, on October 31st, Reformation Day, Pope Francis took part in an ecumenical prayer service with the World Lutheran Federation in Lund, Sweden, to commemorate the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation. In his speech, the Pope counted the costs of the catastrophic break with Protestants and made a series of statements acknowledging errors on both sides of the Reformation.
We too must look with love and honesty at our past, recognising error and seeking forgiveness, for God alone is our judge.
Certainly there was a sincere will on the part of both sides to profess and uphold the true faith. But at the same time we realised that we closed in on ourselves, out of fear or bias, with regard to the faith which others profess with a different accent and language.
With gratitude we acknowledge that the Reformation helped give greater centrality to sacred scripture in the Church's life. The spiritual experience of Martin Luther challenges us to remember that apart from God, we can do nothing.
Talk of unity and friendship between Catholics and Protestants is not talk of coming back together to worship under the same church roof. In a joint statement Pope Francis made with the Protestant Archbishop of Canterbury, also in 2016, they said, while like our predecessors, we ourselves do not yet see solutions to the obstacles before us, we are undeterred.
Wider and deeper than our differences are the faith that we share and our common joy in the gospel. Christ prayed that his disciples may all be one so that the world might believe. Certainly this kind of unity discourse, Catholics and Protestants working together to find common ground, is an improvement on the wars that were waged between them in different periods of history.
We're in the second episode on the Reformation, and our guests are adamant that the oppositional narrative often put forward in the histories of the Reformation is perhaps wrong. We should not fall into the trap of defining Protestantism as against Catholicism or the contradiction of Catholicism.
It's easy to do, of course, especially given that the very name Protestant suggests protesting. But it's a mistake to believe that the reformers were pursuing a radical break with the past, with the Catholic Church through history.
The Reformation was not a rebellion intended to start a new church. Martin Luther and those that came after him, as we're going to hear in this episode, were trying to renew the one holy Catholic and apostolic church, as the Nicene Creed puts it.
And that's important, not only because 500 years later, this way of thinking will help emphasize what Catholics and Protestants continue to have in common, but also because it should encourage Protestants not to fear what came before Luther. As if between the close of the New Testament and the rise of Martin Luther, Christianity was lost to the world. No way.
Protestantism did not start with Martin Luther, just as the Reformation didn't end with Martin Luther. In this episode, we're going to be looking back to see what the reformers were trying to recover. And we'll look forward to the second generation of reformers. And we're going to ask, what is the real legacy of the Reformation? Is there still something to celebrate about the Reformation? Or is it, as many claim, the
The Root of Christian Division and Conflict. I'm John Dixon, and this is Undeceptions. Undeceptions
This season of Undeceptions is sponsored by Zondervan Academic. Get discounts on master lectures, video courses and exclusive samples of their books at zondervanacademic.com forward slash Undeceptions. Don't forget to write Undeceptions. Each episode here at Undeceptions, we explore some aspect of life, faith, philosophy, history, science, culture or ethics that
that's either much misunderstood or mostly forgotten. And with the help of people who know what they're talking about, we're trying to undeceive ourselves and let the truth out.
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You can pre-order your copy of Mere Christian Hermeneutics now at Amazon, or you can head to zondervanacademic.com forward slash undeceptions to find out more. Don't forget, zondervanacademic.com forward slash undeceptions. I cannot at this time examine all the errors of this enthusiast, but I say this, whoever will suffer himself to be counseled, let him beware of this man Zwingli.
and shun his book as the poison of the prince of devils, for he is entirely perverted and has entirely lost sight of Christ. That's a quote from our friend Martin Luther in his dissertation on the Lord's Supper, another polemical pamphlet written in 1528 against the Swiss reformer Ulrich Zwingli.
entirely perverted and one who has lost sight of Christ. No one would accuse Martin Luther of being overly gentle. He wielded his pen like a weapon, not just against Catholics, but also against other reformers who happened to disagree with him.
It probably won't surprise listeners that Luther was not always easy to get along with. That's Matthew Barrett, who joined us last episode. He's Associate Professor of Christian Theology at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary and the author of several books. His latest is Reformation as Renewal, published by Zondervan Academic, and honestly, it is an amazing book. Luther...
I think in many ways was no doubt instrumental to the genesis of Reformation in Germany. But there's an important remark by the historian David Steinmetz, because David Steinmetz, who died just a few years ago, he said, the Reformation does not begin and end, it does not end with Luther.
And in that context, he was actually talking about Thomas Aquinas to say the story of Protestants and Thomas Aquinas has yet to be written. But that issue aside, I think that's a great point to make. Luther, on the one hand, was instrumental to rupturing, you know, you think of his book, The Babylonian Captivity of the Church, very mild, soft, gentle title, right?
But Luther starts to pound on the walls of Rome. Part of the reason he's doing that is because Luther does not think they're Catholic enough. But all that said, for Luther's huge role in kind of
combusting. The church then had to be built. But he certainly had disagreements with other reformers, most famously Ulrich Zwingli, over the Lord's Supper. There are colossal attempts to bring these two reformers together for the sake of the unity of the Reformation. In the end, it fails.
Ulrich Zwingli was born in Zurich just seven weeks after Luther and he came to his reformed convictions apart from Luther. He started the Swiss Reformation right alongside the better-known German one. Matthew Barrett says Zwingli deserves the title "reformer" as much as anyone. By the way, Zwingli123 used to be my password for just about everything.
Used to be, okay, not anymore. Now, of course, it's Alcuin of York, one, two, three. Anyway, Luther wasn't a fan of Zwingli, and the disagreements between the two led to the first break in the Reformation movement. Today, there are literally thousands of different Protestant denominations. The bust-ups among Protestants were plentiful.
The disagreement between Zwingli and Luther was over the Lord's Supper, the Eucharist, the communion. Zwingli said the bread and wine of the Lord's Supper was mostly a sign or symbol of Christ's body and blood given for us on the cross. Luther held the view that Christ was truly present in the bread and wine in a manner that wasn't true of ordinary bread and wine.
He didn't go with the Catholic idea that the bread and wine actually change substance in the Mass, but he was adamant that Christ was in the bread and wine. It was no mere symbol.
I chatted a little more about all of this with Matthew Barrett, why this debate mattered, what was at stake here. And we've included that conversation as an extra for our Undeceptions Plus listeners. If you're not yet an Undeceptions Plus subscriber, head to undeceptions.com forward slash plus. But if that's not your thing, we might just throw a few links in the show notes.
For the reformers, the disagreement over the sacraments proved insurmountable. At Marburg Castle in 1529, Zwingli and Luther met to see if they could nut out their issues. Guess what? They couldn't. The story goes that Luther pulled out his knife in the heat of the dispute and carved into the wooden table Jesus' words from the Last Supper, this is my body.
a permanent mark of his immovability. Actually, some historians say Luther just scribbled the words in chalk, but I prefer the knife. This marked the first big division amongst the reformers. In fairly typical language for Luther, he called Zwingli a wormy nut, saying he was of the devil. Zwingli reported that Luther had treated him like an ass.
Nevertheless, Zwingli wanted reconciliation, asking Luther to, quote, remember that we are brethren. He sounds like a sweetie. But Luther wouldn't have it. He responded that Zwingli had a different spirit.
And he didn't mean spirit in the colloquial sense of vibe. He meant spirit. They were not brothers in Luther's eyes. Zwingli was just as bad as the Catholics. He had strayed from the true faith. He was damned.
Luther was quite something. The New Yorker published a piece for the 500th year anniversary of the Reformation in which they said, "...the fact that Luther's protest, rather than others that preceded it, brought about the Reformation is probably due in large measure to his outsized personality. He was a charismatic man and maniacally energetic. Above all, he was intransigent. To oppose was his joy."
Producer Kayleigh tells me there's a thing online called the Luther Insulter, where you can generate insults based on Luther's writings. Knock yourself out. It's lucky he was the only difficult personality in the Reformation. Not so much. Turns out Luther wasn't the only reformer to gain a reputation for being difficult. MUSIC
If you've heard of John Calvin, you either really, really like him or you really, really don't. There are few characters in church history more admired and more despised than John Calvin. That's a clip from a sermon by author and theologian Kevin DeYoung in 2021. It was titled, The Weakness of Man and the Permanence of the Word.
Here's one of Calvin's admirers from a church history book. He writes, "There are some who pour scorn on Calvin and his works, and among them are men who speak as if Calvin taught nothing but the doctrine of predestination, but it is not so.
Calvin taught the whole counsel of God and even concerning predestination, none can truthfully say that what Calvin wrote and preached in any way departed from Scripture. What Scripture taught, Calvin believed. What Calvin believed, he proclaimed to all who would listen to him. And from his own day to ours, men of discernment have regarded him as perhaps the greatest of all Christian teachers since the time of the apostles."
That would be an admirer. From the other side, this comes from a poem by a Roman Catholic. The poem is called "Visiting Geneva." It's from First Things in 2009. Here's just a few stanzas. "Calvin, padlock of the Sabbath. Your followers protect you. Predestination wasn't yours, they claim, nor were the elect you.
But when you were God, sermons went on all day. Without Newman or presence, children were denied play. I loved your moral snobbery, but the spirits you relied on turned atheist long ago. Come to Italy, Monsieur John." Earlier in the poem, the author has this line, "John Calvin, unforgiver,
In your Taliban hat, you purveyed bare St. Peter's in La France Protestant." So that would be not an admirer. It's a bleak picture.
John Calvin is revered by many, including by me, as the father of the Reformed faith. Now, if you listened to the last episode, you might be thinking, hang on, isn't Martin Luther the father of the Reformation? Well, in a sense, that's true. Luther kicked off the Reformation around Europe. He was the great disruptor, bringing the walls of the Catholic Church down around him. But
But someone had to start building new walls. Or to put it another way, perhaps more accurately, someone had to rebuild the walls along the more ancient lines. And that someone was John Calvin.
Okay, we've got to move to Calvin. The misconception around Calvin is that he was a grumpy, gray grandfather whose theology really reflects that. Is that right? I think to be fair to Calvin, and Bruce Gordon, who's an excellent historian, has pointed this out, like most of us, maybe all of us, of course Calvin had moments where
he was impatient, or he became angry. Now, I think there's probably reasons for why, or at times he wanted to push things through faster than maybe others did, or he was quite strict at times, even on church discipline. We have many examples of instances where he was quite adamant about exercising discipline in the church. Maybe in some ways that would surprise us today. But that said,
To your point, John, I do think that it is more of a caricature than a truthful representation of Calvin. In many ways, Calvin actually was a very compassionate soul. And yes, he certainly held his convictions, but Calvin was one who took the providence of God seriously and found himself submitting to God's providence, even if it wasn't his plan.
John Calvin was born in 1509 in France, so he was just a young boy when Luther published his 95 Theses challenging the Catholic Church. It's not clear how Calvin came to his own reformed convictions. He was a legal scholar, not a monk or a priest, and his own account of his shift in thinking is vague.
God tamed to teachableness a mind too stubborn for its years, for I was strongly devoted to the superstitions of the papacy that nothing less could draw me from such depths of mire. And so this mere taste of true godliness that I received set me on fire with such a desire to progress that I pursued the rest of my studies more coolly, although I did not give them up altogether.
It was a dangerous time in Paris to show sympathy with Martin Luther's theology. The King of France, Francis I, was a devoted Catholic, and by the 1530s he'd begun to persecute Protestants. Protestants couldn't preach, and they couldn't even gather together, so many fled France, as did Calvin, and they took refuge in the Swiss town of Basel.
This is right around the time Luther and Zwingli were arguing about communion. Calvin would have been a keen observer of those debates. In Basel, Calvin wrote the first edition of his famed The Institutes of the Christian Religion, a manual for those who wanted to know something about the Christian faith and its core components from a Reformation perspective.
I remember in second year theology having to read the Institutes and attend tutorials about them. I hated the book, which appeared in two volumes, until about page 100. I can't quite put my finger on what it was, and I can't even really remember the topic Calvin was discussing, but I do recall the feeling of
Amidst all the logical argumentation and masses of Bible references, I was overwhelmed with a sense of the kind governance of God.
I know we don't often put those words together, kind and governance, but that's the idea of providence, God's good provision in all things, not just material things like food, but also spiritual things, like my very will to do the good. Reading Calvin even helped my fear of flying. Helped, not completely removed.
Anyway, the institutes are where Calvin laid his reforming cards on the table. And as a result, he became a wanted man and a refugee. While passing through the city of Geneva, the local church leader there, William Farrell, convinced Calvin to stay and help him organize a newly formed Protestant church in the town.
Calvin reluctantly agreed, worked for a while before being banished by the city council. Calvin wrote a bit more, preached a bit more, and was eventually called back to Geneva to help dismantle Catholicism. It was felt that only someone with Calvin's biblical and rhetorical brainpower could transform the city into a truly Christian city, whatever that is.
When we look at his ministry in Geneva, what we find is a pastor who is quite sacrificial. In fact, he's exiled from Geneva. Any pastor who's been fired might be able to relate to Calvin at this point.
And he says at one point when they are asking him to come back, he would rather die on the cross than go back to Geneva. But we know the story because in the end, he does go back to Geneva. He does pick up that cross. Why would he do that? I think ultimately the reason why is because he really does believe in the truths of the Reformation and the ability of those truths to transform the church.
And so as much as he had certain disagreements, that's at the core of who he is. And he's willing to suffer to make sure that the people of God, even the common person, has the opportunity to hear the Word of God taught and preached and actually, in a real way, transform their life. So I think to fill out the picture on Calvin, we can't just look at him as, say, a polemicist. We have to look at him as a pastor. What was Calvin's theological advancement? Like, how would you...
describe what he did building on and even critiquing what Luther had already done. Can you put your finger on the thing he did? Well, I think in part he systematizes things. That's the Reverend Dr. Jennifer Powell-McNutt, who also joined us for the first part of this two-part special.
Jennifer has a particular interest in the history of the church from the Reformation through to the Enlightenment. He's very constructive in that way. Luther is caught in the moment of having to respond. Calvin takes time to edit and, you know,
develop and build his theological magnum opus. And that is the Institutes of the Christian Religion, which goes through many different editions. And there you go. Next to the Summa. Well done.
Well, there you go. I mean, I don't know. I guess that fits like in some ways. So I think that's part of it is systematizing things. But the reformed tradition does have its own emphasis in different ways. And I would probably say sanctification.
is a key aspect, the doctrine of the Holy Spirit. Some of these things we can't hold against Luther because he's a totally different generation, having different conversations. Calvin is also building bridges about Eucharistic theology, you know, what's happening when we sit together at the Lord's table.
He's trying to create links with that. He shares Luther's view that the doctrine of justification is the fulcrum, the hinge upon which all religion turns. Calvin's view of the communion or Eucharist had a massive influence on the Anglican Church, among other movements. He fell somewhere between Zwingli's mostly a symbol view and Luther's real presence view.
For Calvin, Christ is present, not exactly in the bread and wine, but in the act of eating and drinking by faith. So he reckoned communion was actually effective. It spiritually nourishes the Christian, not just because it's a psychological reminder, but because Christ is actually there blessing the participant. Something like that, anyway. And so there's a lot of different similarities, but I would say...
Probably this emphasis on the Holy Spirit and on sanctification would be one of, and how that relates to justification would be one of the major contributions. And the Holy Spirit emphasis has to do with development over the doctrine of Scripture and how is it that we know that Scripture is true.
There is an inner testimony that the Holy Spirit gives to us that helps us to see the truth of Scripture. And so that's another way in which he develops his own thinking. Calvin talks about our relationship with God in a way that is a bit different than how Luther talks about it. He thinks about it as that we are basically orphans.
who are being adopted by a good father. And so it's a father-child relationship. Whereas for Luther, partly because he comes out of medieval mysticism as well, he's thinking about a marriage between the bride and the bridegroom. So Calvin's kind of whole concept of our relationship with God is different than Luther's. And both are biblical. What on earth was his idea with Geneva?
With all the discussion at the moment of Christian nationalism, was it a little Christian nationalism? Yeah. I mean, yes. But it wouldn't occur to anyone really in that time that that was...
Weird. Weird, yes. So the fact that we might question that or that we do question that today would never occur to them in their time. So I think that's important to keep in mind that he is pushing back along with the Protestant Reformation against theocracy, so against the church
overseeing all of life. But of course, the other side of that is called Erastianism, which is where the state governs the church and is also very controlling of that. We see that especially in England. So in fact, Calvin is more of a middling sort in this regard because he wants to preserve some autonomy of the church forever.
from the overreach of the state. And so he talks about it in terms of jurisdictions. This is what we have been called to do as theology and pastoral care. And you have been called to rule and to govern morals and to curb evil in a community. And that, of course, he receives from Luther and Luther's two kingdoms. So the two of them are trying to create some sort of independence,
between the church and the state. And this will be the problem for generations, actually, after Calvin passes on and then his legacy and the generations that come after him, they will struggle to preserve the autonomy of the church. And of course, we move into a whole different political history. The late famed atheist, Christopher Hitchin, called Calvin's Geneva a prototypical totalitarian state.
If you read some writers, Geneva at the time of Calvin's pastorship represented the ultimate in repression.
Calvin's ecclesiastical ordinances laid out a structure for the church. Pastors would preach the Bible. Doctors or scholars trained up new pastors and ensured the teaching was faithful. Elders oversaw moral discipleship, helping people live Christianly. And they also reported wayward behavior. Deacons then looked after the underprivileged in the church and the city. Those roles are still found in many Protestant churches today.
Calvin also established the consistory, a type of morals court overseen by a mix of pastors and civil magistrates. They met every Thursday at midday to address misbehavior and wrong belief. The consistory policed church attendance, blasphemy, illicit sexual activity, Catholic practices, drunkenness, even quarrels.
Discipline from the consistory might include private admonition, public rebuke, temporary suspension from the Lord's Supper, or in rare cases, exclusion from the church. In some cases, the consistory could refer a sinner to the secular city council, which had authority to hand down a jail sentence or even execution.
The consistory of Geneva could be heavy-handed. It's been compared to George Orwell's 1984. But Calvin wasn't a dictator. He himself was subject to the same consistory. Consistories like this popped up in many, many Christian reformed communities across Europe and in North America. I'm not a fan of the concept, in case you're wondering.
Calvin has a mixed reputation, and part of that reputation is tied to his involvement in the execution of a notorious heretic named Michael Servetus. Michael Servetus was a wanted man all over Europe because he publicly questioned the doctrine of the Trinity. This is the conviction that the one true God is eternally three persons. It's a central Christian idea shared by Catholics, Protestants, and the Orthodox Churches.
Servetus was burned at the stake as a heretic in Calvin's Geneva, and Calvin's role is the topic of debate. I asked Matthew Barrett about this, and I took the opportunity to then quiz him about some other examples of Protestants behaving badly. I'm going to return to Calvin and Servetus in a moment, but I want us to wind back to Luther 20 years or so earlier.
I'm sorry to say, but Luther reserved his most disgusting vitriol, not for Catholics and other perceived heretics, but for European Jews. I apologise to any listeners with Jewish heritage, but here is an excerpt from Luther's 1543 tract, The Jews and Their Lies. Therefore, dear Christian...
"Be advised and do not doubt, that next to the devil you have no more bitter, venomous, and vehement foe than a real Jew who earnestly seeks to be a Jew." Therefore, the history books often accuse them of contaminating wells, of kidnapping and piercing children. They, of course, deny this. Whether it is true or not,
I do know that they do not lack the complete, full and ready will to do such things. Then there's a bunch of biblical argumentation in favor of seeing Jesus as the promised Jewish Messiah. But then Luther ends with seven shameful practical recommendations about the Jewish problem in Germany. Brace yourself.
First, to set fire to their synagogues or schools. Second, I advise that their houses also be razed and destroyed. Third, I advise that all their prayer books and Talmudic writings in which such idolatry, lies, cursing and blasphemy are taught, be taken from them. Fourth, I advise that their rabbis be forbidden to teach henceforth on pain of loss of life and limb.
Fifth, I advise that safe conduct of the highways be abolished completely for the Jews, for they have no business in the countryside since they are not lords, officials, tradesmen or the like. Let them stay at home. Sixth, I advise that usury be prohibited to them, and that all cash and treasure of silver and gold be taken from them and put aside for safekeeping.
Seventh, I recommend putting a flail, an axe, a hoe, a spade, a distaff or a spindle into the hands of young strong Jews and Jewesses and letting them earn their bread in the sweat of their brow. I hardly know what to say, except I'm sorry you had to hear that. I wish I could say this was the young reckless Luther, but it's 1543. It's mature Luther.
How are we to respond to such behavior from someone who's celebrated, someone I celebrate as a hero of the Reformed faith? How do you cope with the historical fact of Luther's anti-Semitism? We will in the podcast quote from his 1543 tract, The Jews and Their Lies.
And also Calvin's agreement with the execution of Michael Savitas. Why don't these things undermine your love of all things Protestant? Oh.
These are very good questions, John, and very difficult ones. And I think the best way to approach them is to just be honest and to face them head on. I think the issue here is not actually Luther. It's not actually Calvin in the end. It is actually about how do we understand church history? How should we read the failings of those before us?
If we look at church history and are looking for that sparkling moment in which there is just total purity, well, we will only find that in Jesus Christ. And I think that is how it should be.
So naturally enough, I would argue, and again, this goes right back to that oppositional narrative. I think one of the problems with the oppositional narrative, it assumes that we should read history as if it's the good guys versus the bad guys. And then our job is to cipher through it, discern who's bad, chuck them overboard, and then we just herald those who were good.
The problem with that is that it's a myth and it's an impossibility. As soon as you pull back the curtain on even the best of those in the past, you discover things that you are going to cringe at. So take Luther. What's happening with Luther? Why in the world would he have this anti-Semitic tone, fierce tone?
right at the very end of his life. Is he senile? There's been all kinds of theories. I mean, we can go some extent to try to explain it. I think, for example, some historians have said during the earlier years of the Reformation, Luther's very optimistic. He thinks the Gospels here is going to transform the Jewish people. We are going to see them convert to Christ.
And perhaps there's some frustration by the end of his life. That's been one theory. There's been other theories that have tried to capitalize on maybe some of the social context as well. Like what is actually happening between the
in Germany between, say, certain Germans and the Jews who lived there. There's been theological explanations, but we could go on. But I think at the end of the day, what I would say is this. I don't think we need to excuse it. It is what it is. And if you read Luther, you'll see that for yourself. There's no way to excuse it. At the same time, I think we have to recognize Luther, like everyone before him, he's a man of his times.
And he has moments where he is used in tremendous ways.
He has other moments in which his strength is his weakness. What originally erupted and created the Reformation, this powerful voice that spoke truth into a very complicated and confusing time period, also could work against Luther. We mentioned this with Zwingli. I look at some of the debates that Luther has with Zwingli, and I don't agree with Zwingli. But
But I also wonder if Luther could have pursued a unity there that would not have compromised the Reformation in the end. That too could be a failing on Luther's part.
What do we do with Calvin? On the one hand, we don't need to gloss over it. Calvin certainly was involved. At the same time, Calvin, too, is a man of his times. Now, I will say this. I will say this about Calvin's situation, because I think sometimes we forget this. It wasn't just Calvin. It wasn't just Geneva.
In fact, with Servetus, there were earlier attempts by other cities that captured him and then Servetus escaped. They would have also executed him and gone through that process. In other words, it's not a Protestant thing or, say, a Roman Catholic thing if Servetus would have ended up
in a Roman Catholic territory, they wouldn't have done the same thing. We have examples of this. Now, there's a long story here, but a lot of this comes back to how they understand the state in relationship to discipline in the church. Our context today, that was in some respects inconceivable to them. And I talk a lot about this towards the end of the book, where I talk about what was their understanding of what was the relationship exactly between the sword and the pulpit.
Now, that said, Calvin does have a hand in it, but he's not the one to actually, they actually ask for his opinion, but he's not the one who has the power to make the decisions in the end. And Calvin at one point actually asked them to be merciful. He goes to Servetus and pleads at one point that he would change his mind because what he's teaching is heretical.
And there's a refusal. But even still, Calvin begs for a merciful execution in the end. What do we do with Zwingli and the drowning of Anabaptists? Right? We could go on. Oftentimes, remind Protestants today, they will cling to the Reformers as if they're perfection itself over against Rome. But we have to remember Zwingli and the Anabaptists, well, that's another tragic story in which men and women are being drowned because they believe in believer's baptism.
Again, it's complicated because it wasn't just baptism. They actually saw this as undermining the social status that both the state and the church wanted to preserve. So all that to say, I think we read history in a way that should be characterized by humility, understanding that we don't want to impose maybe some of our context, which they could not have imagined, back onto their day and then be quite judgmental.
At the same time, I don't think we excuse them. I think we have to see it for what it is. And perhaps that's an inspiration to us then as we see their faults to understand, okay, well, as we carry on Reformation today, how can it be improved?
Calvin's version of the Protestant faith, often called simply the Reformed faith, ended up having a life of its own. Places like Italy and France, of course, remained fully Catholic. Germany and Scandinavia went fully Lutheran. But in Switzerland, the Netherlands, Scotland, and even England to a degree, it was the Calvinist form of the Reformation that took hold.
And in 1539, a powerful Italian cardinal, Jacopo Satellito, wrote to the church in Calvin's Geneva, urging them to return to the Catholic faith.
He timed the letter really well because it was just after Calvin had been expelled by the city. Satellito gave the Genevans a simple choice. Follow the Catholic Church and its 1,500 years of faithfulness to God or follow the innovations of the past two and a half decades led by the newcomers like Calvin. Although Calvin wasn't in Geneva, he was asked to respond to the Cardinal's argument.
Calvin's response is important for understanding the heart of the Reformation. The Reformers, he said, are more Catholic than Rome. Boom.
Our agreement with antiquity is far closer than yours. All we have attempted has been to renew that ancient form of the Church, which at first, sullied and distorted by illiterate men of indifferent character, was afterwards flagitiously mangled and almost destroyed by the Roman pontiff and his faction.
Can you tell us about Calvin's famous letter back to Cardinal Sadaletto? Oh, yes. Because I think this is intriguing and comes to the core of your thesis about this entire period. Yeah, it really does. I'm so glad you mentioned it. And just for listeners, if you only have time to read one thing from the Reformation, I would say this is it. It's very short. We'll link to it in our show notes for the podcast for sure. Thank you. Yeah. And yes, dear listener, we've done just that.
Haven't we, Kylie?
In a very ironic state of events, it's Geneva, certain folks in particular that contact Calvin and they ask for his help even when he's gone. He's having actually the best time of his life. He goes to Strasbourg. He's learning from Martin Bucer. He's writing. It's a very fruitful time for him.
And he's learned how to be a pastor and maybe become more mature in that respect. So it's a very fruitful, wonderful time for him. But he interrupts that period in the promised land because Cardinal Sadaletto looks at Geneva and says, this is the opportunity. This is my chance to bring the church in Geneva back to Rome to her mother.
One of the ways, strategic ways that Saddlehead does that in his letter is he says, well, there's no salvation outside the church. And if you do not come back to Rome, who are you? You're outside. You're outside of the church, of the true church. And the consequences are great.
It's a powerful argument because it assumes, and Satterlough actually says this, it assumes that the Reformation is a deviation from the church universal, the church Catholic. One that's an innovation with novel views and even heretical views that has led the Genevans astray, even outside the parameters of the true church. Well, they write to Calvin and Calvin takes up his pen, so to speak, and responds.
Calvin's response is telling, yes, of course, he's going to focus on the things we would think of, like justification. What actually is the biblical doctrine of justification? We would expect that much. Or biblical authority. But one thing that Calvin mentions, I think sometimes is forgotten, and it's this. Calvin actually says, we have not betrayed or drifted from the Church Catholic, the Church Universal,
In fact, we have just as much right to claim that church Catholic as you do. In other words, he's making a very bold claim. He's saying, actually, we haven't deviated. In fact, when it comes to certain doctrines, we are actually more Catholic than you think. And he would show this with his doctrine of grace. He would appeal, like Luther did, to Augustine to say, no, we are actually being Augustinian in our understanding of grace.
With authority, for example, Calvin is essentially saying, yes, we believe the Bible is our final inspired revelation.
written revelation from God. But Calvin said, we're not radicals. We don't dispense with tradition or the church. It's not as if the church has been lost until we showed up. That was actually the radicals. Calvin despised that. He wanted nothing to do that. Bruce Gordon has this great statement where he says, if Calvin had seen the word Catholic attached to Rome, he would have been horrified by that because he thought of the Reformation as Catholic.
Now, this is a bold statement. I'm just going to put it out there. But I think the reformers said this themselves. In many ways, they thought of themselves as more Catholic than Rome. Luther was on exactly the same page.
When Henry of Braunschweig accused Luther of betraying the church universal with innovation and heresy, Luther's reply echoed Calvin's. They alleged that we have fallen away from the Holy Church and set up a new church. No, we are the true ancient church. You have fallen away from us.
This isn't mere rhetoric. The reformers, like Luther and Calvin, if not the later radical reformers, were genuinely trying to go back to Augustine and to Paul before Augustine and, of course, to Jesus before Paul. They kept the word Catholic as the description of the true church. In Greek, Catholic, kathaholos, just means according to the whole. It sort of means the universal agreed church.
I myself am a proud Catholic. It's just that I don't think the Pope is the head of the world church. I don't think the bread and wine of communion actually becomes Christ's body and blood. I don't believe in indulgences or purgatory. And I'm quite sure my good works don't earn merit with God. It's all a gift of God, even my faith and good deeds. But apart from that, I'm 100% Catholic.
Let's press pause. I've got a five-minute Jesus for you. The key insight of the Reformers was correct. I mean no disrespect to my Roman Catholic friends, and I do have some Catholic friends who listen to this podcast.
But God's favor, mercy, salvation come to us not through merit, but entirely through Christ's gift. This isn't just the theology of Augustine in the 4th and 5th centuries. It's not just the theology of the Apostle Paul in the New Testament. It's the teaching of Jesus.
I said in the last episode that Jesus' famous whining and dining with the so-called sinners makes the point that divine mercy is a gift, not a reward for any good work on the part of the wrongdoer. Jesus always makes the first move. Jesus extends the mercy, and as a result, the recipient is transformed.
The structure seems to be God's gift and then our response of gratitude. But there's a wonderful parable Jesus told that makes the point in very clear terms. Anyone who trusts their own merit will forfeit God's grace. But those who don't rely on their merit, but on the sheer gift of mercy, will find themselves justified.
Jesus actually uses the word justified, made right with God. Let me read the passage and then offer just the briefest comment. To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable. Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.
The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed, God, I thank you that I am not like other people, robbers, evildoers, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get. I'll just interrupt Jesus there and point out that this hypothetical Pharisee was in the terms of the day a meritorious person.
He avoids immorality and he goes above and beyond the norm in his religiosity. Everyone would have expected him to be justified. But Jesus continues, but the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, beat his breast and said, God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
Before I read the conclusion of the parable, which is shocking and beautiful and exactly what the 16th century reformers were trying to say, let me point out a few things about Jesus' description of the sinner. He stood at a distance. This probably means a distance from the Pharisee. In other words, he knows he doesn't compare well.
He wouldn't look up to heaven, Jesus said. The traditional prayer pose was a face looking up, but this man is humble before the Pharisee and God. He beat his breast. This probably indicates he knew he deserved punishment. And one last action, the most important one perhaps, he asked, "God, have mercy on me, a sinner." Amidst his sense of shame, he obviously had hope for mercy.
He placed zero confidence in his own behavior and placed all his confidence in God's character of mercy. And then Jesus concludes, I tell you that this man, the sinner, rather than the other, the Pharisee, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled and those who humble themselves will be exalted.
The Pharisees' confidence in his own morality and merit was his downfall. The tax collector's confidence in God's mercy was his salvation. Now, let me make clear, Jesus isn't saying a good life is bad in itself, nor is he saying that we're all as bad as the tax collector. The Pharisee is in the story to remind us that even the so-called best of us have no right to place confidence in our conduct.
The tax collector is in the story to remind us that even the so-called worst of us can enjoy God's free gift of mercy. Jesus, of course, knew this better than anyone else. A short time after he told this parable, he would end up on a cross. And he said he would, on the cross, bear our sin and the judgment we deserve. So that the theme of the parable
might become a reality in our lives. And that is exactly what the reformers were saying. You can press play now.
This brings us to what you call the oppositional narrative, which you profoundly disagree with and do so on the basis of clear evidence. I want to read you back to you and then get you to comment. This will be an awkward experience. The story of the Reformation, I mean, maybe you don't agree with it anymore. The story of the Reformation is sometimes told in evangelical institutions and churches as if the reformers were radicals throwing off the shackles of tradition.
and as if the church had been corrupted and lost since the apostles. In the name of sola scriptura, the reformers shed a corrupt church, breaking with the church of their day to start their own undefiled church. Woo! That's what a lot of people reckon, and you say it's bunkum.
I don't think I can put it better than, well, myself. So hang on, the Reformation wasn't anti-tradition. Yeah, you know,
There's been a popular narrative, you've said it, John, what I call an oppositional narrative that essentially says just that. There might be more nuance here and there, but that's what they're after. And I think you're right, John. I do think it's bonkers. I think, actually, when that narrative is unleashed, who are we really describing? I think it's the radicals of the 16th century, not the reformers.
I think the radicals would have looked at that and said, hey, that's us. Yes, we are quite critical of tradition. We are actually making such a bold claim to say that even the reformers themselves don't add up and they're not part of the church and et cetera. What's the difference? Well, the radicals, some of the radicals thought that.
Solo scriptura would mean what Heiko Obermann, the historian, calls tradition zero, to put it bluntly. It's an opposition to tradition, as if the church has been lost, but thanks to the radicals, they have now revived it afresh. And so it's this claim that we must go back to the apostles only, or we must go back to the scriptures only, as if we are doing this alone.
That's actually not what sola scriptura refers to. And the reformers were quite keen to point this out. They were not, as some have portrayed them, even Luther at the Diet of Worms, you know, this iconic moment. He is not an enlightenment man, a modern man, as if he is standing on the authority of himself.
it would have been completely foreign to them to read the Bible by themselves. And so when you look at their debates, yes, they are appealing to the Bible as their final authority because they believe that this is God's written, inspired, inerrant revelation, but they nonetheless see their interpretation of the Bible as something that is in accord with the Church Catholic, the ancient church.
And so Obermann then distinguishes between what's called Tradition I and Tradition II to say, no, these aren't for the Reformers. There's not two streams of revelation, even one as if tradition could actually be superior to revelation. Rather, the Reformers see God's word as superior, but nonetheless always interpreted with the church Catholic. And so this is one of the reasons why it won't take you long to open one of their commentaries. And you'll notice they're quoting Augustine
or Bernard everywhere. In other words, let me just see if I can put it this way: it's not a debate - the debate between Rome and the Reformers is not - I can't say this enough - it's not a debate between tradition and Scripture. It's not. It's a debate between tradition and tradition. Which understanding of tradition will we hold to? I can imagine the modern descendants of the Radical Reformation
Finding this a little bit troubling, but so might some Catholics, by which I mean Roman Catholics. Do you have any sense of what Roman Catholic historians or theologians might make of this thesis of yours, that the Reformation was really a renewal movement calling people back to a Catholicity?
I think in my conversations, at least, with Roman Catholics, sometimes you find two different reactions. There is an older, this goes right back to the 16th century itself, there's an older narrative. I call it the schismatic narrative that sees, you know, if the radicals saw themselves as opposing that which came before, many in Rome saw the Reformation as a schism.
in which it could only produce discord and disunity. And to this day, Roman Catholics will look at Protestants and say, "Look at your denominations. Look at the divide. Look at the lack of unity." So those who might sympathize with that narrative certainly will see the claim I'm making in this book, and they will see it as problematic, because to call the Reformers Catholic with a lower C even, that to them seems an impossibility.
However, I have had conversations with other Roman Catholics in which they still hold to their positions and to their viewpoints. They're not going to budge on those. However, if they have been reading history in the last...
say, 50 years. Even Roman Catholic historians, some, have made the same claims and same observations that I have. So one of the points I make in my book is, as much as my book may seem like it's a theological argument, it is primarily a historical argument. You could agree or disagree with whether you think the Reformers actually were Catholic or whether they were successful in that sense. In one way, that might be another book altogether. But what I'm arguing is that
the reformers themselves actually consider themselves Catholic with a small c. And that is something that even Roman Catholic historians have said, yeah, when we look at the sources, that certainly is true. Now, I suppose that raises the big question, right? How then should we actually understand the Reformation? And this is where I think it's quite helpful to say to Protestants in particular, when we define our identity,
as something that is against Catholicity, right? I think we actually betray our forefathers. And so all that to say, I think that a good history of the Reformation can actually make the claim that to be reformed in that sense is to be Catholic, Catholic with a small c. To make that claim, yes, it certainly can be a theological claim, but it actually is first and foremost
simply saying this is actually our identity historically. But Catholics at the time of the Reformation most certainly would not have made these concessions. After the break, we're going to hear how Catholics of the 16th century responded to the onslaught of the Reformation movement. We're packing our bags and heading to northern Italy to the Council of Trent.
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Tell us about the Council of Trent and...
the Catholic response in those decades to the Reformation? When you look at the very complicated years leading up to Trent, there is a strong push to actually create a type of renewal. And so in my book, I actually call it a Catholic renewal. I think there's proof for that. There's attempts to create renewal within the church. In other words, what I'm trying to say is even those
at Trent or even after Trent understand, yeah, there has been abuses, there has been corruptions, and we ourselves understand, especially on the pastoral level, there needs to be changes made. Here's the thing, though, and this is the controversial point. What kind of change is that? I think in the eyes of the reformers, they see it as primarily, maybe not only, but primarily as a change in moral conduct that
and ecclesiology in terms of the practices of the church. Where they think Trent falls short, well, they do not see it as primarily an actual reform in doctrine. And by the time Trent puts down its verdict, in the eyes of the reformers, they feel that that judgment is only confirmed.
Because they then land on, when it comes to everything from justification to purgatory to indulgences and so on, they then actually make it, they put it in concrete. So in a strange way, Trent is the thing that entrenches the contradiction between Protestantism and Roman Catholicism.
Yes, I think so. At least it's the parting of the ways. It is a major turning point in which there's a parting of the ways. So I know it can be tempting to go back and to look at the early years of the Reformation as if, oh, this is a major deviation from the church. But from this angle, actually, you could look at it as a question mark. Which way is the church going?
which way will the church go? That's a very different way of looking at it. And I think it actually gives the reformers a little bit more credibility, maybe even a little bit more sympathy as to what they are actually trying to accomplish. Now, that said, okay, I think, Trent, there's two sides of this coin as well. Yes, they're pursuing a type of Catholic renewal. And that's been a helpful corrective in many ways in even recent history, histories of Trent. But number
But nonetheless, we don't want to swing that pendulum too far because there still is a strong counter-reformation tone, spirit at Trent and even beyond. I mean, there's a whole history here with the Inquisition and so on that we don't have to get into. I don't think we need to interpret Trent as if it's one or the other. Some have tried to do that. I think it's both. In other words, the type of renewal they actually implement is
does have the DNA of a counter-reformation simultaneously. I think that's inevitable. And we see that even with the wars that are pursued before and after Trent as well.
At Trent, Rome drew a line in the sand about what it meant to be Catholic, Roman Catholic. It doubled down on its opposition to the reformers' insistence that justification, right standing with God, was by faith alone. And it affirmed that indulgences still had a place within the church, though they should not be marketed. And the council reiterated the existence of purgatory.
The Council of Trent met in fits and starts over an 18 year period. It was slow, deliberate and it provoked what historians call the Counter-Reformation, a huge Catholic intellectual backlash against Protestantism. Pope Paul IV established the Roman Inquisition, partly to root out Protestantism, and he created an index of prohibited books. As you can imagine, Luther's volumes were high on the list.
City-states began to draw very strong boundaries along Protestant and Catholic lines. This led to the Thirty Years' War from 1614 to 1648, when between 10 to 20% of the population of Europe was killed. We'll eventually do an episode on the various Inquisitions and on the Thirty Years' War.
As bad as they were, there are loads of myths about these two historical movements. For example, it's fair to say that most modern historians today no longer see the Thirty Years' War as a religious conflict. They see it as a conflict between city-states that demanded independence from the crumbling Holy Roman Empire.
This is why you frequently had Catholic and Protestant city-states joining forces to fight other city-states that could be Protestant or Catholic. It's a weird and wonderful and horrible story to tell, and it resulted in powerful theological arguments about the necessity of a pluralistic Europe. As I say, that's for another episode.
One legacy of the Reformation that can't be denied or explained away is division. According to the Centre for the Study of Global Christianity, there are currently more than 1,100 different Protestant denominations. 1,100. Actually, excuse me, I left off a zero.
There are currently more than 11,000 different Protestant denominations in the world today. That is crazy. And into our modern period, Protestantism is often accused of spawning thousands of different denominations. And I mean, is there something cantankerous and disagreeable about Protestantism? I mean, certainly my Catholic friends disagree.
would say, "Look what Protestant theology does. It breaks you apart and every person with a new idea starts a new denomination and you've separated from the great tradition." - Yes, yeah. I think that is something too to grapple with and to recognize some of those dynamics at work. It really does look like that. It really does look like that. And part of that is because Protestantism is
highly adaptable to its context. That's really what is taking place. And I usually talk about this with Marburg, what happens at Marburg when Luther and Zwingli meet for the very first time and the conversations that they have and then that they go home. When they go home, they are going home into different contexts, right? And so what the Protestant tradition begins to do is it becomes very mobile.
It is able to adapt. It is able to be on the move. And there are some fundamental reasons why that is. One is in part because they turn their backs on the idea of sacred space, right? There's no one place that I have to be where I can worship God. I don't have to have even a priest there.
there, the mediator for me becomes the Bible, right? So as the Bible is more movable and more accessible, the Protestant tradition is also more movable. And I think in part it's a consequence of the refugee crisis and how Protestants navigate the refugee crisis.
But in addition to that, I think it's in part because of how a vernacular language too, right? These different traditions are going to take on the common language of their regions, right? And then they're going to engage with the political systems of their regions.
And the fact of the matter is Europe is not uniform in those ways, in terms of its government systems, in terms of its language and culture, etc. And so you begin these traditions that develop in their regions, and then that has a long history. Okay, a final question, Jennifer. You're at a dinner party.
of devout Catholics, okay? And you're in a rollicking conversation and they ask what you do and you say, "Oh, I'm a specialist in the Reformation." All eyes are now on you. They say, "Okay, Jennifer, tell us what good did the Reformation do?" We're going to give you one shot to answer us tonight. I mean, I think my answer is the Bible.
For sure, hands down. The Reformation really pushed Christianity to reroute itself in the revelation of Scripture and in what the Bible actually says and teaches us about who Jesus Christ is and what He's done and how our church should be shaped by that.
And that is something that impacts not just Protestants and Protestant tradition, but it also impacts Catholicism and its time. That part of the story we don't always get to hear about, but is one that is there and present and important. And it will shape Catholicism. Do you mean Catholicism will go back to the Bible as a result? Or what are you saying? I will say, yeah, so that there is...
a more appreciation for scripture for the reading of scripture for also for education and the need for clergy to be educated in what it is that they're doing in the life of the church i really look to the jesuits as an expression as an example of the outworking of how the reformation
impacts not just Protestants, but also the Roman Catholic Church and in those kinds of ways. There's more attention than especially through Jesuits to catechetical teaching, which is a really important practice that we see that the Protestants adopt that Luther champions from 1529. And so there's just kind of an appreciation for how can we engage Christians
the congregation into the life of the church that I think is really beneficial to the church. And actually in the end, they do succeed in wanting the Bible to be better translated, to be more accessible. That is the great success of the Reformation. So now our job is to get people to read it.
That's interesting, isn't it? This is basically what the Pope himself said in our grab at the beginning of the episode. With gratitude, we acknowledge that the Reformation helped give greater centrality to sacred scripture in the church's life. Personally, I think putting the Bible near the center of life will lead people to the Catholic faith. I say Catholic in the original sense.
If you read the Bible, I think you'll see that the Protestants were right about justification by grace through faith. It seems to me overwhelmingly clear that what is primary in Christianity is not human will and exertion, let alone merit.
but God's love and grace toward us, granting us forgiveness through Christ's death and resurrection, and then moving us by the gift of his Spirit to live a life of gratitude for all that God has done. The Bible leads you there. But I also think returning to the Bible will underscore just how much Roman Catholics and Protestant Catholics have in common.
None of the great creeds was changed in the Reformation. Not the Apostles' Creed, not the Nicene Creed, not the whopping Athanasian Creed. No new creeds were developed. These great statements of the three-person God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Creator, Redeemer and Life-giver remain the structure of the Christian faith as taught in the Bible.
So although I identify as a proud Protestant, even more than that, and I hope this isn't controversial after we've explored all this together, I am a proud and reformed Catholic. ♪
A big shout out to our voice actors for this two-part series on the Reformation. There's podcast regular Yannick Laurie. Thanks, mate. And a newcomer, one of our undeceivers who contacted us and said he'd give it a go, Scott Balhatchet. Thank you so much.
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Undeceptions is hosted by me, John Dixon, produced by Kayleigh Payne and directed by Mark Hadley. Sophie Hawkshaw is on socials and membership. Alistair Belling is our writer and researcher. Siobhan McGuinness is our online librarian. And Lindy Leveson remains my wonderful assistant. Editing by Richard Humwey. And special thanks to our series sponsor, Zondervan Academic, for making this Undeception possible. Undeceptions is the flagship podcast of Undeceptions.com. Letting the truth out.
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