History of the Church of God
AUTHOR(S): | Hassell, Cushing Biggs
Hassell, Sylvester |
|
Chapter XIII: SEVENTH, EIGHTH, NINTH, TENTH AND ELEVENTH CENTURIES.
Seventh Century.—During the seventh
century the deep night of the Dark Ages[1]
covered the world. The corruptions of Greek and Roman Catholicism
increased; their bitter controversies continued; and their permanent
separation and hostility were foreshadowed. Mohammedanism, less idolatrous and
corrupt than Greek Catholicism, arose in Arabia, conquered Palestine, Syria,
Persia, Egypt and North Africa, and threatened Constantinople. The vigorous
Roman Catholicism effected the ecclesiastical conquest of England, and reduced
Spain to still humbler submission, and inaugurated a systematic persecution of
the Jews in Spain. Wales, Ireland and Scotland remained ecclesiastically
independent of Rome. Irish and Frankish missionaries labored with considerable
success among the Germans. The Paulicians arose in Armenia and Asia Minor.
It is said that in 603 the Bishops (or Elders) of Wales
held two conferences with Augustine, the envoy of Pope Gregory I., but were
deterred by the haughtiness of the monk from submitting to the authority of
Rome, and would not unite with him in proselyting the heathen Saxons; and, in
accordance with his threat, thousands of the Welsh professors of Christianity
were slain, a few years afterwards, by the Saxons. Theodore, a Greek monk of
Tarsus, in Cilicia, was “consecrated” by Pope Vitalian, in 668, to be “Archbishop
of Canterbury,” and retained the “primacy” of England till his death in
690. He diffused Greek learning over England, and has been called “the
father of Anglo-Saxon literature;” and he energetically organized the
Anglican episcopate, so that the latest and most approved English
Episcopalian writers frankly admit that he is, “the father of their
diocesan organization”—that “the church of England, as
we know it today, is the work, so far as its outer form is concerned, of
Theodore;” and that “the Church of England, perhaps more directly
than any other church in Europe, is the daughter of the Church of Rome.”
As the Monophysitic controversy, as to whether in Christ
there are two natures or only one, lasted a hundred years; so it was continued
for fifty years, from 630 to 680, in the Monothelitic controversy, as to
whether there are in the one person of Christ two wills for the two natures,
or only one will for the two natures. “There was a confusion in the
use of the term will; the one party employing it as equivalent to that which
manifests the person; the other as meaning that which manifests the nature.
The Sixth General Council of Constantinople, in 680, decided in favor of
the Roman view of Two Wills, declaring a moral unity by the
subordination of the human to the Divine. The sum of these Christological
controversies is as follows: Christ is perfect God and perfect man; one
Person, two natures; with two wills, or modes of manifestation. The Holy
Spirit proceeds from the Father (said the Greek ‘Church’), and from the
Son (said the Latin ‘Church’).
The Quinisextan Council of Constantinople (supplementary
to the Fifth and Sixth Councils), in 692, allowed the marriage of priests,
declared the equality of Constantinople and Rome, and is the great authority
with the Greek “Church”; but has always been rejected by the Latin “Church;”
and has thus for thirteen centuries been “a perpetual apple of discord”
between these two anti-christian communions.
The first pseudo-Christian systematic persecution of the
Jews occurred in Spain during this century. In the course of sixty years eight
councils were held against them. The Jews were forbidden to act, or speak, or
even think, against the Christian faith. Deprivation of civil rights,
scourging, imprisonment, confiscation, banishment, slavery and mutilation were
decreed against these most industrious and thrifty of the Spanish population.
It is said that ninety thousand were thus forced to submit to a pretended
baptism; and multitudes fled into France.
“The seventh century of Christianity,” says
Milman, “beheld a new religious revolution, only inferior in the extent of
its religious and social influence to Christianity itself. In an obscure
district of a country esteemed by the civilized world as beyond its
boundaries, a savage, desert and almost inaccessible region, suddenly arose an
antagonistic religion (Mohammedanism) which was to reduce the followers of
Zoroaster to a few scattered communities, to invade India, and tread under
foot the ancient Brahmanism, as well as the more wide-spread Buddhism, even
beyond the Ganges; to wrest her most ancient and venerable provinces from (a
corrupted nominal) Christianity; to subjugate by degrees the whole of her
Eastern dominions, and Roman Africa from Egypt to the Straits of Gibraltar; to
assail Europe at its western extremity; to possess the greater part of Spain,
and even to advance to the banks of the Loire; more than ever to make the
elder Rome tremble for her security, and finally to establish itself in
triumph within the new Rome of Constantine (Constantinople). Asiatic ‘Christianity’
sank more and more into obscurity. It dragged on its existence within the
Mohammedan empire as a contemptuously tolerated religion; in the Byzantine
empire it had still strength to give birth to new controversies—that of
Iconoclasm, and even still later that concerning the Divine light. Yet its
aggressive vigor had entirely departed, and it was happy to be allowed
inglorious repose, to take no part in that great war waged by the two powers,
now the only two active, dominant powers, which contested the dominion of the
world—Mohammedanism and Latin ‘Christianity.’ “From the ninth to the
thirteenth century the Mohammedans may be said to have been the enlightened
teachers of barbarous Europe; and then Mohammedanism sank back into its
primeval barbarism.” Mohammed was born at Mecca, Arabia, about the year 570
A. D.; began preaching his religion in 610; fled from Mecca to Medina in 622;
and died in 682. He had effected the conquest of Arabia, and was about to send
a powerful array into Syria, when he died. He was a descendant of Ishmael, and
was related to the Korashites, the hereditary guardians of the irregular
cubical building in Mecca called the Kaaba, which, long before Mohammed’s
time, was the central shrine of Arabian idolatry. This building contained in
its northeast corner, about five feet above the ground, a black stone, an
irregular oval, seven inches in diameter, of volcanic basalt, sprinkled with
colored crystals, (supposed to have been an aerolite, but) claimed to have
been brought from Heaven by the angel Gabriel and given to Ishmael; said at
first to have been white, but now blackened by the kisses of sinful mortals.
Pilgrimages to Mecca, and traveling around the Kaaba, and kissing the black
stone, are among the most solemn duties enjoined by Mohammed upon his
followers. Though claiming to be a monotheist, he thus accommodated his
religion to the previous idolatry of Arabia. He restricted ordinary
Mohammedans to four wives;[2]
but allowed chieftains as many as they wished; and the estimate of
the number of his own wives varies from thirteen to twenty-five. His first
wife, Kadijah, was a wealthy widow; and his favorite wife, Ayesha, was a
beautiful girl but nine years old when he married her, he being fifty-three
years of age. He was subject to epileptic fits from his childhood, and was, in
all probability, a partially insane religious fanatic, or mono-maniac. He says
that he never knew how to read or write. He pretended that his fits were
interviews with the angel Gabriel; and the so-called revelations that he
dictated were recorded and preserved by others and, after his death,
gathered into a book called the Koran—the Mohammedan Bible. Mohammed was a
licentious, ambitious and vindictive man; and his religion was a strange
compound of truth and error, of Judaism, Rabbinism, Christianity, Heathenism
and Fatalism. The most of the Arabs were heathens; but many Jews and professed
Christians had gradually settled in Arabia. Mohammed’s first wife’s
cousin, Waraka, originally a Jew, and subsequently a professor of
Christianity, was the first man on record to translate parts of the Old and
New Testaments into Arabic, and he gave Mohammed much information in regard to
the Scriptures. Mohammed admitted that the Old and New Testaments were
divinely inspired, but had become corrupted; that numerous prophets, including
Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses and Jesus, had preceded him, and that Jesus was the
greatest before him, but not the Son of God. He claimed that he himself was
the last and greatest of the prophets—the Paraclete, or Comforter, predicted
by Jesus in John 14:16; pretending that the genuine word in that passage was,
not parakletos, but periklutos, the praised or renowned,
equivalent to Mohammed in Arabic. His leading doctrine was, “There is no God
but God, and Mohammed is his prophet.” He taught the utter dependence of all
creatures upon the one, almighty, eternal, infinite, spiritual Creator; but he
did not teach the loving, fatherly relationship and communion of God with His
creatures. Though professing to teach the doctrines of the absolute
predestination of all things,[3]
he certainly, inconsistently taught the doctrine of salvation by
outward works, such as formal prayers, fastings, alms, lustrations, festivals,
pilgrimages, the subjugation of infidels and the extermination of idolaters;
that prayer will carry a man half-way to God, and fasting will bring him to
the door of His palace, and alms will gain him admittance. He enjoined
circumcision and the observance of Friday as the Sabbath. The fundamental
feature of Christianity—man’s indispensable need of salvation by the
mediation of a spotless and almighty redeemer—was entirely omitted from the
teaching of Mohammed. He taught that there are degrees of reward in Heaven and
of punishment in hell, according to the actions of each person in this world;
that, at the last day, a mighty balance will be poised by the angel Gabriel,
and each human being will separately be tried by it, his good deeds being put
in one scale, and his bad deeds in the other, and an atom or grain of mustard
seed will suffice to turn the balance and decide the destiny of the person.
Like other founders of false religions, Mohammed described, in the
fullest and grossest manner, the horrors of hell and the joys of Heaven; and
he placed, among the latter, each believer’s possession of seventy-two
black-eyed maidens, of ravishing beauty and perpetual youth. “Under the
shade of the scimitar,” said he, to encourage his deluded soldiers, “is
the gate of paradise; hell is behind you if you flee, and paradise before you
if you fall.” The alternative of the Koran or death was offered to
idolaters; but Jews and Christians might, by tribute, purchase a limited
toleration. Spirituous liquors, swine’s flesh, gambling and picture-making
were strictly prohibited by Mohammed; and he copied into his system many of
the moral precepts of the Bible. No religion was ever less original.
Mohammedanism is a cosmopolitan, Christless, perverted, bastard, unspiritual
Judaism, and, in many respects, bears a striking resemblance to Papal Babylon
and her daughters. The Koran, says Gibbon, is an “endless incoherent
rhapsody of fable and precept and declamation, which seldom excites a
sentiment or idea, which sometimes crawls in the dust, and is sometimes lost
in the clouds. The Divine attributes exalt the fancy of the Arabian
missionary; but his loftiest strains must yield to the sublime simplicity of
the book of Job, composed in a remote age, in the same country, and in the
same language.” Mohammed suffered great pain in his last moments, and his
last words were: “The Lord destroy the Jews and Christians! O God! pardon my
sins. Yes, I come among my fellow-citizens on high.” Two hundred million
human beings today, it is estimated, base their eternal salvation on the
intercession of this vindictive, licentious and deluded sinner. Of this number
about one hundred millions are found in southern and western Asia and in
Turkey in Europe; and about a hundred millions are found in Africa, composing
one-half of the estimated population of that Grand Division of the globe; so
that Mohammedanism may be fitly called the religion of the Dark Continent. Its
chief training theological school is the University of Cairo, with its ten
thousand missionary students from all parts of the Mohammedan world. “In
winning the inferior races, and training them to a fervent worship of its own
and a certain low level of culture, it has shown an aptness, skill and zeal
quite in advance of any ‘Christian’ missions. Its bleak monotheism,[4]
its lifeless morality, its somber fatalism, its intolerant
fanaticism, its gorgeous luxury, and its extreme profligacy, have contributed
to its missionary success. Science it treats with ignorant scorn. The arts of
modern life it takes at second hand, choosing always those of mere luxury, or
else mere destruction. And so it has no hold upon the future, only the memory
of a bloody and stormy past. While it may be an advance on heathenism, it is
an advance which seems almost to exclude the further advance of Christianity.
In substituting Mohammed for Christ—a principle similar to that of all false
religions—it is of course essentially antichristian.” “In thirteen
distinct places in the Koran, Mohammed expressly disclaims the power of
working miracles. He commanded his army in person in eight general
engagements, and undertook, by himself or his lieutenants, fifty military
enterprises. From the success of Mohammedanism no inference whatever can be
justly drawn to the prejudice of Christianity. For what are we comparing? A
Galilean peasant, accompanied by a few fishermen, without natural force, power
or support, prevailing against the prejudices, learning, hierarchy, philosophy
and authority of the Roman Empire in its most polished period—with a
conquering chieftain, at the head of his army, bearing down opposition by
military triumphs, in the darkest ages and countries of the world.”—Wm.
Paley.
The Paulicians arose in Armenia in the latter part of
the seventh century, and were probably so called because they especially
emphasized the great spiritual principles enunciated by the Apostle Paul. The
accounts of them transmitted to us (their own books having been burned) were
written two hundred years afterward by their inveterate Catholic enemies; and
Gibbon well remarks that, “as they cannot plead for themselves, our candid
criticism will magnify the good, and abate or suspect the evil, reported of
them.” Their enemies accused them of being Manicheans; but this was denied
by them. It is said that many of them were anti-Judaizing Gnostics,
maintaining the eternal existence and evil of matter, and that the visible
world was fashioned by an inferior evil deity, born of darkness and fire, whom
they called the Demiurge (a Platonic term meaning world-creator), and that the
Old Testament was the work of the Demiurge, and was therefore to be rejected;
that the Demiurge was constantly drawing from the higher world human souls
that had been created by the supreme God, and was imprisoning them in material
bodies, but that every human soul was enlightened by the Spirit of God, and
was able to attain eternal life. Of the New Testament, they received the
gospels and the epistles of Paul. The Paulician movement seems to have been an
extreme dualistic reaction against the extreme Judaistic corruptions of the
Catholic ‘Churches’—a peremptory abandonment of the innumerable
superstitious doctrines and ceremonies of human invention, and an earnest
though imperfect desire to return to the simple purity of apostolic doctrine
and practice, even though the Divine origin of the material creation and of
the Old Testament should have to be relinquished—a preliminary excessive
Protestantism arising in the East eight hundred years before the dawn of the
Western Protestant Reformation. Paul did not reject, but powerfully
maintained, the Divine origin both of the material creation and of the Old
Testament; and those professing to follow him should not have been led, by any
amount or extent of Catholic corruptions, into such anti-Pauline rationalistic
extremes. The Paulicians utterly rejected the worship of saints and relics and
images and the cross, and the magical power of external forms, particularly
the sacraments, and the odious despotism of an avaricious and corrupt clergy.
They are said to have rejected all outward ordinances. Even their enemies
admitted the strict morality of their lives. Their ministers, to whom they
gave not even the title of Elders, traveled and preached very much, though
they worked at some secular employment for a livelihood. Their two most famous
preachers were Constantine in the seventh and Sergius in the ninth century,
the first of whom suffered martyrdom, and the second assassination. The Greek
Catholic emperors greatly persecuted them, especially in the ninth century,
the Empress Theodora, it is said, putting to death, with dreadful tortures, a
hundred thousand of them. A renewal of persecutions in the eleventh century
drove them into Southern Europe, where, with some modifications of doctrine,
they were known as Bogomiles or Bulgarians in Turkey, Patarenes in Italy,
Cathari in Germany, and Albigenses in France; the Waldenses in Northern Italy
and the Wyckliffites in England were spiritual and anti-sacerdotal, like the
Paulicians, but less extreme and more Biblical. Some people, calling
themselves Paulicians, are still found in Turkey. It can hardly be doubted
that there were numerous Christians among the ancient Paulicians, and that, as
in the case of the Apostle Paul, slanderous reports have been made of their
doctrine (Rom. 3:8). The seventh century was, to be sure, a period of gross
darkness; but, to the present writer, it is utterly inconsistent and
incredible that the Paulicians, as a body, implicitly accepted and highly
esteemed the writings of the Apostle Paul, and at the same time utterly
rejected the Old Testament Scriptures, which he so greatly honored as the
oracles of God. But it may well be believed that they thoroughly, and often
even violently, opposed that total perversion of the Old Testament, that
substitution of the law for the gospel, which is the characteristic of all
false religions, and which the Apostle Paul is especially distinguished for
denouncing.
Mr. William Jones, a very conscientious historian, does
not doubt that the Paulicians were “the genuine successors of the Christians
of the first two centuries,” sealing their testimony with their blood; and
he quotes, in reference especially to their pastors, the following touching
lines of the poet Colton:
“Thrice hail,
ye faithful shepherds of the fold,
By tortures
unsubdued, unbribed by gold;
In your high
scorn of honors, honored most,
Ye chose the
martyr’s, not the prelate’s post;
Firmly the
thorny path of suffering trod,
And counted
death ‘all gain’ to live with God.”
Some of the Paulicians, or at least some who bore that
name, took refuge from Catholic persecutions with the Saracens, or
Mohammedans, and, in alliance with the latter, waged war with their merciless
Greek enemies—a “warring after the flesh,” and with “carnal weapons,”
utterly condemned by the Apostle Paul and by Christ (Rom. 12:14-21; 2 Cor.
10:3-5; Eph. 6:10-18; Matt. 5:43-48; Luke 23:34; Acts 7:60).
Eighth Century.—The eighth century may be said
to close the First Watch, and to advance into the Second Watch of the Night of
the Dark Ages. The Mohammedans, or Saracens, after conquering Spain and
southern France, were repulsed with immense slaughter by Charles Martel at
Tours, in France, A. D. 732, just one hundred years after the death of
Mohammed, and were driven back into Spain. Pepin the Short, the son of Charles
Mattel (encouraged by Pope Zachary, in order to increase the papal influence
over France), dethroned, in 752, Chilperic III., the last of the Merovingian
kings of France, and assumed the French crown, thus founding the Carlovingian
dynasty, the champions of Roman Catholicism. The Exarchate of Ravenna, with
its inseparable dependency of the Pentapolis, in Central Italy, having
belonged to the Eastern Roman Empire since the time of Justinian, was, in 751,
conquered by Astolphus, king of the Lombards, who also threatened Rome. Pope
Stephen III. addressed a letter to Pepin, pretendedly “in the name and
person of the Apostle Peter himself,” and urged him, under the penalty of
eternal damnation if he refused, and upon the promise of paradise if he
consented, to undertake the defeat of Astolphus and the deliverance of Rome.
Pepin complied and succeeded, and, as he says, “for the remission of his
sins and the salvation of his soul,” conferred on the Roman Pontiff the
Exarchate of Ravenna and the Pentapolis, A. D. 754, and this grant was
confirmed and enlarged by Pepin’s son and successor, Charlemagne. The
donation of Pepin founded the temporal power of the pope, which lasted eleven
hundred and fifteen years, until, in 1870, at the beginning of the
Franco-Prussian war, Napoleon III. withdrew all his soldiers from Italy, and
Victor Emmanuel II. took possession of Rome. “The mutual obligations of the
popes and the Carlovingian family,” says Gibbon, “form the important link
of ancient and modern, of civil and ecclesiastical, history.” Charlemagne
reigned forty-six years (768-814). He made the first and last successful
attempt to consolidate the Teutonic and Roman races in one great empire.
December 25th, A. D. 800, Pope Leo III. crowned and anointed him in Rome, as
Caesar Augustus, the Emperor of the Romans. He reigned in France, in Spain as
far as the Ebro, in Germany, in Hungary, and in the greatest part of Italy.
His dominion was called the “Holy Roman Empire,” because allied with the
pope, and, with varying boundaries, lasted a thousand and six years, until, in
1806, Napoleon Bonaparte compelled Francis of Austria to abdicate the title,
and himself claimed, by his own military prowess, to be the true successor of
Charlemagne.
The Saracenic invasion of the Eastern Roman Empire, the
rising power of the Frankish Empire, the conquest by the latter of the kingdom
of Lombardy and of the exarchate of Ravenna, and the iconoclasm of the Greek
emperors (to be spoken of presently), produced, in the eighth century, the
final severance of Rome and Constantinople, of Latin and Greek “Christianity,”
and allied the pope with the new Empire of the West, which he now perforce
acknowledged as his “lord and judge”—designing, however, just as soon as
possible, to assert both temporal and spiritual supremacy over the new Roman
Empire, as well as over all the remainder of the world.
Charlemagne, the pope’s new lord, whose figure stands
at one end, as that of Constantine, a similar churchman, stands at the other
end, of the stately porch of “St. Peter’s” at Rome, was an
illiterate barbarian, though a professed patron of learning, a very licentious
and ambitious man, a vigorous ruler and a bloody warrior. He had nine wives or
concubines, and a number of dissolute daughters; he fought, in thirty-three
bloody campaigns, during as many years, with the Saxons, Bohemians and Huns,
professedly to civilize and Christianize them, compelling thousands of them to
be baptized or to suffer death. He once slew forty-five hundred Saxon
prisoners in cold blood; and finally effected the conquest of the Saxons by
deporting ten thousand families, one-third of their entire population, and
settling them in France. He was, says Milman, “the Mohammedan Apostle of the
Gospel.” He is said to have restored 3,700 “church” buildings; and he
ordered tithes to be paid to the “clergy.”
For a hundred years Irish and Frankish monks had been
laboring as “missionaries” in Germany; but he who is known in history as
“the Apostle of Germany,” and of whom even Smith’s recent and elaborate
“Dictionary of Christian Biography” remarks that, “since the
days of the great Apostle of the Gentiles no missionary of the gospel has been
more eminent in labors, in perils, in self-devotion, in tenacity and
elasticity of purpose,” was the English Saxon, Winfried, who, after having
been made a ‘Bishop’ by the pope, assumed the name of Boniface, by which
he is generally known. He resolved to preach among his Saxon kindred in
Germany, whom he could address in his and their mother-tongue, and to convert
them from paganism to Roman Catholicism. In 718 he went to Rome and took “a
stringent oath of fealty to the pope ;” and, “with undoubting faith in the
Roman Pontiff,” “with a large stock of relics,” with the powerful
protection of Charles Martel, and with a considerable “retinue of monks and
nuns,” he set out on his missionary tour through Germany. He had great
apparent success. He baptized thousands, and destroyed great numbers of
heathen temples, and erected so-called “church” buildings in their stead;
but when he visited his converts again he found them about as Pagan as ever.
The well-informed and candid Lutheran historian, Mosheim, remarks: “This
eminent prelate was an apostle of modern fashion, and had, in many respects,
departed from the excellent model exhibited in the conduct and ministry of the
primitive and true Apostles. Besides his zeal for the glory and authority of
the Roman Pontiff, which equaled, if it did not surpass, his zeal for the
service of Christ and the propagation of His religion, many other things,
unworthy of a true Christian minister, are laid to his charge. In combating
the Pagan superstitions he did not always use those arms with which the
ancient heralds of the gospel gained such victories in behalf of the truth;
but often employed violence and terror, and sometimes artifice and fraud, in
order to multiply the number of Christians. His epistles, moreover, discover
an imperious and arrogant temper, a cunning and insidious turn of mind, an
excessive zeal for increasing the honors and pretensions of the sacerdotal
order, and a profound ignorance of many things of which the knowledge was
absolutely necessary in an apostle, and particularly of the true nature and
genius of the Christian religion. He bound the new German “Church” to Rome
more firmly, says Gieseler, than the English was. “During the eighth
century,” says Mr. H. B. Smith, “Rome, France, Germany and England came
into an alliance which determined the course and progress of history for
another seven hundred and fifty years, to the era of the Reformation.” It is
related of Boniface that when, in 755, he was assailed by a band of Pagan
Saxons, he forbade his few attendants from fighting: “he betook himself to
the refuge of spiritual defense, taking (that is) the relics of saints which
he always had with him ;”[5]
and its this last refuge, of course, failed him, he and his
company were slain. Such was the mournful end of one considered by many the
greatest missionary since the days of the Apostles.
The Iconoclastic (or image-breaking) controversy lasted
from 716 to 842. Both the Greek and the Roman Catholics had long been utterly
sunk in the Pagan worship of images or pictures of Biblical personages. In the
eighth and ninth centuries six Eastern Roman Emperors assembled councils and
issued decrees against this degrading idolatry; but they could not change the
hearts of their paganized subjects, and, therefore, they achieved only a
temporary success. The monks, the ignorant and corrupt priestly rulers of the
people, monopolized the manufacture of the images and accumulated wealth
thereby. Seeing their craft in danger, they contended with all their might
against the imperial decrees. They invented lying wonders in regard to the
images, built up sophistical arguments, declared that a failure to worship
images was worse than the vilest sins, and they succeeded in thus deluding and
persuading the people until other emperors arose who seconded their efforts
and again (A. D. 842) legalized the old idolatry. The popes of Rome zealously
favored the worship of images all the time, and used their “accustomed
policy by elevating the popular idolatrous feeling into a dogma of the faith.”
The Germans, under Charlemagne, in the Council of Frankfort, A. D. 794,
declared not against the use but against the worship of images, as
idol-worship was the practice of the Pagans against whom they fought. This
decision helped to restrain the pope’s championship of images until the
death of Charlemagne.
A Greek monk, John of Damascus, in the civil employ of
the Mohammedan caliph, was the ablest defender of image worship. He was said
to have been “a child of light from his birth,” and was the most
learned man in the East. He advocated the worship of images in three elegant
orations, which were rapidly and widely distributed by the monks; and he
declared that opposition to such worship was Manicheism, as representing
matter as essentially evil. No wonder that the spiritual-minded Paulicians,
who abominated idolatry, were stigmatized as Manicheans. And no wonder,
either, that the spiritually blind and dead honored John Damascenus, the child
of darkness, as “a child of light.” Mingling Aristotelianism,
traditionalism and Pelagianism, he also wrote a summary of Greek Catholic
theology, which was the standard of faith in that communion for a thousand
years.
The clergy of this century were distinguished by their
increasing wealth and power and pretensions, by their luxury, gluttony and
licentiousness. “The true religion of Jesus,” says Mosheim, “was almost
utterly unknown in this century, not only to the multitude in general, but
also the doctors of the first rank and eminence in the ‘church’ and the
consequences of this corrupt ignorance were fatal to the interests of virtue.
All orders of men, regardless of the obligations of morality, of the duties of
the gospel, and of the culture and improvement of their minds, rushed headlong
with a perfect security into all sorts of wickedness, from the delusive hopes
that, by external ceremonies, by donations to the clergy or the ‘church’,
by the intercession and prayers of the saints, and the credit of the priests
at the throne of God, they might easily obtain the remission of their
enormities, and render the Deity propitious.”
The conflicts between the Mohammedans and the Greek
Catholics in the eighth century operated to the deliverance of the Paulicians
from much severe persecution.
Ninth Century.—The darkness overspreading
nominal Christendom is further intensified during the ninth century—the
century of the full establishment of the worship of images and relics, of the
increase of ignorance and superstition and corruption, of monasticism and
priestly and papal pretensions, of the Forged Papal Decrees and of the Papal
Pornocracy, of the invention of the doctrine of transubstantiation, of the
incursions of the Saracens and Northmen, and of the terrible persecution of
the Paulicians.
“In the ninth, tenth and eleventh centuries of the
Christian era,” says Gibbon, “the reign of the gospel and of the church
was extended over Bulgaria, Hungary, Bohemia, Saxony, Denmark, Norway, Sweden,
Poland and Russia. The triumphs of apostolic zeal were repeated in the iron
age of Christianity; and the northern and eastern regions of Europe submitted
to a religion more different in theory than in, practice from the worship
of their native idols. The leaders of nations, who were saluted with the
titles of kings and saints, held it lawful and pious to impose the Catholic
faith on their subjects and neighbors. Yet truth and candor must acknowledge
that the conversion of the North imparted many temporal benefits both to the
old and the new Christians. The rage of war, inherent to the human species,
could not be healed by the evangelic precepts of charity and peace; and the
ambition of Catholic princes has renewed in every age the calamities of
hostile contention. But the admission of the barbarians into the pale of civil
and ecclesiastical society delivered Europe from the depredations, by sea and
land, of the Normans, the Hungarians and the Russians, who learned to spare
their brethren and cultivate their possessions. The establishment of law and
order was promoted by the influence of the clergy; and the rudiments of art
and science were introduced into the savage countries of the globe.” Mosheim
says that “the pious missionaries were content with introducing an
external profession of the true religion among their new proselytes; but it
must be confessed that the doctrine they taught was far from being conformable
to the pure and excellent rules of faith and practice laid down by our Divine
Savior and his holy Apostles; for their religious system was corrupted by a
variety of superstitious rites and a multitude of absurd inventions.”
Louis, surnamed the Pious, was the only surviving
legitimate son of Charlemagne, and reigned over his father’s empire from 814
to 840. He vainly undertook a reformation of the corrupt “Church” and
State. and destroyed the unity of his empire by successive partitions among
his sons; and in 887 the empire was finally divided into the three great
States of France, Germany and Italy.
The popes strove continually and successfully to
decrease the power of the emperors and the “Bishops,” and to increase
their own power. The feuds attending the dissolution of the Charlemagne
monarchy favored these attempts. The ungodly ambition of the popes was further
and very greatly favored by the Pseudo-Isidorian Decretals—the grandest
forgery of ancient or modern times; a compilation made about 850 by some
Frankish ecclesiastic, from the Bible, from his own inventions, from
patristic, monkish, papal, legal and historical writers (thirty-five, or
one-third, of the Decretals, in reference to the acts of the first pretended
popes, being the compiler’s invention), for the purpose of advancing the
claims of sacerdotalism, sacramentalism and papalism—“to legitimate the
authority of the priesthood, to make the church independent of secular
control, and to vindicate the claims of Rome.” “Upon these spurious
Decretals,” says Hallam, “was built the great fabric of papal supremacy
over the different national churches—a fabric which has stood after its
foundation crumbled beneath it; for no one has pretended to deny, for the last
two centuries, that the imposture is too palpable for any but the most
ignorant ages to credit.” The forgery is detected by the glaring
anachronisms and monstrous ignorance of history; and yet the hypocritical
sanctimoniousness of Rome pervades the work, “the whole being composed with
an air of profound piety and reverence, a specious purity, and occasionally
beauty, in the moral and religious tone,” says Milman. Nowhere was the work
better known to have been a forgery than in Rome, and yet Pope Nicholas I.
(858-867) and his successors unblushingly appealed to these fabrications to
sustain their unparalleled pretensions to universal supremacy.
What is called the Papal Pornocracy, or Rule of
Adulterous Popes, extended from 881 to 936.
“Monasticism made rapid progress with the progress of
the papacy, and led to greater reliance on external works. The celibacy
of the clergy was enforced by new laws, and attended by new scandals.”
In 842 occurred the final establishment of image
worship, along the Greek Catholics, by the decision of a council at
Constantinople, commemorated ever since by what is called by those deluded
idolaters “The Feast of Orthodoxy.”
To satisfy the enormous demand for miracle-working
relics, the names and histories of “saints” were invented by a corrupt
clergy, and the carcasses of these Catholic divinities were sought by fasting
and prayer and perilous voyages, and by violence and theft; and even the “saints”
clothes and furniture and the ground that they had touched were supposed to
have virtue to heal all diseases of body and mind, and to defend their
possessors against all assaults of Satan.
In 831 Paschasius Radbert, a French monk, published a
book in which he promulgated and expounded his monstrous theory of
transubstantiation that the bread and wine in the Lord’s Supper, after
having been consecrated by the priest, became the actual body and blood of
Christ, the same flesh in which He was born and died and rose; and not simply
the commemorative emblems of Christ’s body and blood. This amazing
innovation produced great opposition at first, but gradually gained ground,
and was decreed as an article of faith by the Romish “Church,” at the
instance of Pope Innocent III., in the fourth Lateran Council, A. D. 1215.
During the ninth century the Saracens conquered Crete,
Cyprus, Corsica and Sicily, and ravaged the coasts of Italy and France. At
various times from the eighth to the twelfth centuries the Northmen, or
Norsemen, or Normans, or Danes, or Eastmen, or Vikings, or Sea-kings, from
Denmark, Sweden and Norway, leaving their cold, sterile and overcrowded
countries, became the terror and scourge of the British Isles and of the
maritime and Mediterranean coasts of Europe. They were a warlike, vigorous and
brilliant race; and large numbers of them, settling at various points, are
said to have infused new life into the effete, priest-ridden populations of
Europe. They discovered Iceland in 860, Greenland in 876, and the mainland of
North America in 986, it is said. In 919 Charles the Simple, king of France,
gave his daughter and the province of Normandy to Rollo, the leader of a band
of Norse rovers, on the condition that the latter should make a profession of
Christianity, which they readily did; and in another generation it is said
that “they became among the most devout of the French nation.”
During the ninth century, through all the provinces of
the Greek Empire, confiscation and capital punishment, with exquisite
tortures, were inflicted upon the Paulicians, the Empress Theodora, in 845,
putting to death a hundred thousand of them.
Gottschalk, a Saxon monk in a French monastery, where he
was placed by his parents and kept against his will, studied intently the
writings of Augustine, and became an enthusiastic believer in a double
predestination—the predestination of the elect to salvation, and of the
non-elect to damnation; while Augustine had simply maintained the doctrine of
the preterition or passing-by of the non-elect as complementary to his
doctrine of the predestination of the elect to salvation. In his doctrine of
reprobation, or the absolute or unconditional predestination of the wicked to
everlasting damnation, Gottschalk has been called the supple-reenter of
Augustinianism and the anticipator of Calvinism; but he seems, like Calvin, to
have shrunk from the blasphemy of attributing the cause of sin to God, and to
have vacillated between infralapsarianism and supralapsarianism, the doctrine
of the Divine permission and the Divine efficiency in reference to sin. For
his joint heresy and contumacy, as they were called, he was inhumanly scourged
and imprisoned for twenty years by his ecclesiastical superior, Hincmar, the
Archbishop of Rheims, a haughty tyrant, and one of the chief advocates of the
Forged Papal Decretals. He died in prison, without making any recantation—Hincmar
denying him the final communion and burial in “consecrated” ground.
Gottschalk was a trinitarian, and accused Hincmar of Sabellianism. John Scotus
Erigena, one of the leading opponents of Gottschalk, identified religion with
philosophy, and wandered off into Pelagianism, Origenism, rationalism,
pantheism; and has been called “the father of medieval speculation, and the
forerunner, by nearly a thousand years, of the newest forum of transcendental
free thought, that is, of Emersonianism.
One of the chief scenes of relief in this dark century
was the ministry of Claudius of Turin, in northwest Italy, 814-839. He was
appointed to that bishopric by the Emperor Louis, in whose household he had
ministered, by whom he was highly regarded, and by whose authority he was
preserved from the rage of his enemies. He was an earnest and profound student
of the writings of Paul and Augustine, and became a bold and powerful and
uncompromising advocate of a pure spiritual Christianity. He denied the
supremacy of the pope, and declared that Christ is the only Head of the
church. He denounced, in the severest terms, the worship of the cross and of
images and of relics and of any creature—proclaiming that God the Creator is
the only proper object of worship. He zealously opposed the invocation of
saints, the folly of pilgrimages, the evils of monasticism, and the
meritoriousness of good works; and maintained that human nature is totally
depraved, and hence that the whole of man’s salvation is by grace alone. He
stirred up a large number of enemies, who would have destroyed him if they had
dared.
I feel satisfied that Milman is correct in supposing
that the scriptural views of Claudius of Turin lay concealed in the
Piedmontese Alps to reappear in the Waldenses of the twelfth century.
Tenth Century.—The tenth century brings us to
the dismal midnight of the Dark Ages in European “Christendom.” Politics,
society, religion and morals were all adrift. Ignorance, superstition, relic
worship, saint worship, Mariolatry, ceremonialism, sacerdotalism, papalism,
covetousness, warfare, drunkenness and debauchery were almost universal. Few
of the monks, and scarcely any one else, could read or write. Throughout
so-called Christian Europe schools were well-nigh abolished; though this was
the golden age of Arabic literature in Spain. The Papal Pornocracy continued.
“Theodora, a wealthy Roman widow, with her two daughters, Theodora and
Marozia, as beautiful and profligate as herself, were enabled to fill the
papal chair with their paramours, their children, and their grandchildren.”
Even Romanist writers admit these horrible facts, and call this the “Iron
Age” of their “church.” The “Holy Roman Empire,” so-called, was
revived by Otho I. of Germany (936-973), who, by the appointment of Bruno, and
still more by that of the French monk Gerbert (Sylvester II.) to the papacy,
in the room of the profligate priests of Italy, began a Teutonic reform of
papal morals. The popes, all the while, made silent but sure progress towards
realizing their claims for universal supremacy. Some of the Scandinavian and
Sclavonian tribes were converted to Catholicism. “The completion of the
first Christian Millennium,” says Mr. Philip Smith, “marks also the epoch
at which Christianity had reached nearly all the nations of Europe; though its
profession was only fully established in the course of three centuries more.
We purposely say its ‘profession’ for we must still bear in mind the
difference between the simple primitive preaching of the gospel to hearers who
received it by the mind and heart, and its propagation by the power of the
sword, by political alliances, or by marriages of Christian princesses with
barbarian kings, who made their subjects follow their adoption of a new
religion.” These rough methods of “conversion” were followed by the
milder and more insinuating and persistent schemes of the Romanist monks.
The clergy, during this century, became exceedingly
wealthy and corrupt—possessing about half the landed property of Europe, and
many of the ‘Bishops’ becoming dukes and nobles, and leading their armies
to battle. The Feudal System was, in this century, thoroughly established in
western Europe, making the tenure not only to property, but to offices, titles
and ranks, hereditary; and mailed barons and surpliced priests ruled over the
land. Louis V., the last of the Carlovingian dynasty, dying in France, Hugh
Capet, making concessions to the Catholic authorities, and indorsed by the
pope, seized the throne, which has ever since been filled by one of his
descendants, except under the Bonapartes and the Republic.
In 964 was the first solemn “baptism” of a bell of
the pope, the vain unscriptural ceremony taking place in “the Church of the
Lateran” at Rome. The first instance on record of “the canonization of a
saint” occurred in 993. Relics were greatly multiplied during this century.
Among these Catholic fetishes are mentioned the blood, the shoes, and tear of
Christ, a picture of Christ, crosses that fell from Heaven, a rib of Matthew,
and hair of John the Baptist. The doctrines of purgatory, and
transubstantiation, and the papal primacy, and traditionalism, and
Semi-Pelagianism, were greatly enhanced in this midnight century. There was an
increased reliance on outward and ceremonial works, and less trust reposed in
the atoning mediation of the Lord Jesus. The great increase of corruption and
the false interpretation of Revelation 20 created an almost universal
expectation that the world would be destroyed in the year A. D. 1000; and the
minds of wretched mortals were for a season overwhelmed with consternation and
despair. Still, idleness and vice and crime increased; robberies and murders
abounded; it is even said that cannibalism was resorted to. Many gave all
their property or themselves to the “churches” or priests; many hastened
to Palestine, where they supposed that Christ would descend from Heaven to
judge the world; great numbers, when an eclipse occurred, fled for refuge to
the deep caverns of the mountains. Multitudes would sleep nowhere but in the
porches or within the shadow of the church buildings. The Catholic priests
made great worldly gains out of these superstitious fears, which they
diligently and successfully endeavored to excite during the last quarter of
this century.
Dunstan, “Archbishop of Canterbury”
(959-988), succeeded by his energy and imposture, notwithstanding great
opposition, in establishing Benedictine monasteries throughout England.
During the tenth century the Paulicians, we are told,
“emigrated from Bulgaria, and spread themselves throughout every province of
Europe.”
The Northmen, Saracens and Hungarians made repeated
depredations upon Catholic Europe during this century.
The world was so dead during the tenth century that
there are said to have been not even any religious controversies nor any new
religious sects or commotions.
Eleventh Century.—Only the faintest starlight
of truth is seen in Catholic Europe during this century, appearing to us, as
we peer through the thick darkness, chiefly in France and Northern Italy, and
diligently sought to be extinguished by the Roman hierarchy. A few of God’s
“hidden ones”’ were no doubt, in this obscure age, scattered through all
the countries of Europe; but the accounts of them transmitted to us are
exceedingly scanty and unsatisfactory. Their own statements and books were
considered heretical, and were burned by the Romanists.
As Mystery Babylon occupies a large space in Scripture
prophecy, so it does in Christian history. A delineation of the Masterpiece of
Satan is necessary to give us a proper idea of the nature and extent of the
sufferings of God’s people who were persecuted by the Second Beast. The
eleventh was the century of Gothic architecture, of increased ritualism and
sacerdotalism, of increased penances and pilgrimages, of money commutation for
self-mortification, of the increased wealth and corruption of the priesthood,
of almost universal auricular confession, of the granting of penitential
indulgences to sin, of the firm establishment of a regular system of salvation
by good works, of the dawn of scholasticism, of the final rupture of the Greek
and Roman Catholic “Churches,” of the virtual culmination of the papal
pretensions to universal monarchy, of papal war against the marriage of
priests and against secular appointments to “church” offices, of the most
remarkable scene in the Middle Ages—the deep humiliation of the German
emperor, Henry IV., before Pope Gregory VII. at Canossa—and of the beginning
of the Crusades, resulting in the conquest of Jerusalem by Latin “Christendom”
from the Seljukian Turks.
As the world did not come to an end as people expected
at the close of the tenth century, they supposed that it would continue for a
long time to come, and they began erecting private and public buildings on a
gigantic and permanent plan. The wealthy barons built their castles, and the
wealthy priests their cathedrals, in the Gothic style of architecture. “The
foundations were broad and deep, the walls of immense thickness, roofs steep
and high to keep off the rain and snow, and there were square buttressed
towers, even for the cathedral, to sustain it, and at the same time furnish it
with military defense. The church-building was, in those days, not only used
for public worship, but it was the town-hall, the market-place, the
concert-room, the theater, the school, the news-room, and the vestry, all in
one.”
The Scholastic Theology is generally reckoned to have
begun with Anselm, “Archbishop of Canterbury” (1033-1109), and terminated
with Eckhart of Germany (1250-1329), thus extending from about the middle of
the eleventh to about the middle of the fourteenth century. It was an
application of Aristotelian logic to the support of Catholic doctrines, and
sublimation of theology into metaphysics. Beginning with Realism (the doctrine
that universal ideas are real things), it ended in Nominalism (the doctrine
that such ideas are only the names of things); and after weary, hair-splitting
debates of three centuries, the system resulted in rationalism, skepticism and
pantheism. “The Schoolmen,” says Taine, “seem to be marching, but are
merely marking time.” They served, perhaps, to keep thought alive, and
prepare the way for modern thought. The initial point of the debate was the
denial (about 1050) by Berengar of Tours that the bread and wine in communion
are changed into the real body and blood of Christ; Lanfranc and Anselm, of
Canterbury, endeavored, in reply, to establish the doctrine of
transubstantiation (that, while the sensible properties of the elements are
not changed, their underlying “substance” is changed into the “substance”
of Christ’s body). Twice was Berengar forced by the Catholic authorities to
sign a recantation, which he twice revoked, “leaving a memory curiously
mingled of veneration and abhorrence.” Under the influence of the Nominalism
of William Occam, Martin Luther substituted for transubstantiation the
doctrine of “consubstantiation” (that the body of Christ is actually,
substantially present with the bread and wine); but, “as the logic of
Protestantism became clear and self-consistent, this weak compromise faded
quite away.” The Schoolman Albertus Magnus (1193-1280) is said to have been
familiar with all the learning of his time; and his disciple, Thomas Aquinas
(1224-1274), in 2,000 folio pages, 600 topics, 3,000 articles and 15,000
arguments, made the most complete and authentic exposition of Catholic
theology (Summa Theologiae).
In 1054 the Latin and the Greek Catholic “Churches”
were finally sundered by the mutual excommunication of Pope Leo IX. and the
Patriarch Michael.
The very learned French Pope, Sylvester II. (999-1003),
had declared, when he was known as Gerbert, “Archbishop of Rheims,” that
“the pope who does not hear the church is a heathen,” and that “God
alone can justify;” but he changed his views on his accession to the papacy.
By a decree of Pope Nicholas II. (in 1059), the
privilege of voting in the election of a pope, originally exercised by the
ordinary clergy, and in the tenth century by the canons of cathedrals, was
restricted “to the superior clergy of Rome and seven neighboring Bishops.”
The most arrogant and audacious pope that ever lived
(excepting Innocent III. and Boniface VIII.) was Hildebrand, who called
himself Gregory VII., and was real master of Rome for thirty-seven years, the
lord of five popes, Leo IX., Victor II., Stephen IX., Nicholas II. and
Alexander II. (from 1048 to 1073), and then pope himself (from 1073 to 1085).
He was an imperious, inflexible, cruel, unscrupulous politician, whose one
unswerving purpose was to make the Pope of Rome the supreme ruler and arbiter
of the human race. Notwithstanding the example of Peter, and the advice of
Paul, and the horrible immoralities of a nominal celibacy, Gregory, in order
to bind tine “clergy” absolutely to the pope, decreed that all the priests
and Bishops who had wives should put them away, and that the single should not
marry; and he inaugurated what is called the Controversy of Investitures,
declaring that temporal princes should have no right to appoint to “church”
offices—thus making the clergy wholly free from feudal obligation to their
national sovereigns, and responsible to the pope alone (although the clergy
were themselves large landed proprietors and civil magistrates). Henry IV.,
Emperor of Germany, refused to surrender the right of investiture, and took
under his protection Bishops and counselors who had offended the pope, and was
summoned by the latter to appear at Rome to answer for his conduct. The
emperor, enraged, assembled a diet at Worms (in 1076), and declared Gregory
deposed from the pontificate. The pope retaliated by excommunicating and
dethroning Henry, and absolving his subjects from their allegiance to him.
Papal supremacy being an integral idea of German “Christianity,” the Saxon
princes declared, at a diet in Oppenheim, that, unless the sentence of
excommunication were removed in twelve months, Henry should lose his crown.
Subdued by the rebellion of his subjects and the course of the pope, the
emperor, with his wife and infant child and one faithful attendant, undertook,
in the midst of an unusually rigorous winter, the extremely difficult and
dangerous passage over the awful precipices and ice-fields of the Alps, and
finally presented himself before the Castle of Canossa, in Northern Italy,
where the pope was comfortably housed with his devoted adherent, Matilda, the
Countess of Tuscany. On a dreary winter morning, the ground being deeply
covered with snow, the emperor was admitted within two of the three walls that
girded the castle. Divested of all his royal robes, he was clad only in the
thin white linen dress of the penitent, and barefooted and bareheaded,
shivering and hungry, he thus humbly awaited for three days (January 25th,
26th and 27th, 1077) the pleasure of the stern pontiff to admit him to his
presence. The pope at last received him, and granted him absolution only on
the condition that Henry should appear at the time and place named by the
pope, and answer the charges made against him; if his defense were
satisfactory, he should receive his kingdom back from the hands of the pope—otherwise,
he was peaceably to resign his kingdom forever. Henry’s humiliation and
Gregory’s absolution were both dictated by mere policy. “Freed from the
church’s curse, Henry quickly won back the strength he had lost. He
overthrew in battle the rival (Rodolph) whom Gregory upheld. He swept his
rebellious lands with sword and flame. He carried his victorious army to Rome,
and was there crowned emperor by a rival pope. Gregory himself was only saved
by his ferocious allies, Norman and Saracen, at cost of the devastation of
half the capital—that broad belt of ruin which still covers the half-mile
between the Coliseum and the Lateran gate. Then, hardly rescued from the
popular wrath, he went away to die, defeated and heartbroken, at Salerno, with
the almost despairing (the proudly bitter and Pharisaic) words on his lips:
‘I have loved righteousness and hated iniquity, and therefore I die in
exile.’ Again excommunicated, Henry, twenty years later, vainly sought mercy
from his own son, the unnatural champion of the ‘church;’ vainly asked
shelter in a monastery; and died in want and forsaken, deprived even of the
empty honor of a royal tomb.” Thus the pope was really triumphant at last.
“The great era of papal power covers two
centuries and a half, beginning (about 1050) with Gregory VII., and ending
with the Jubilee of Boniface VIII., A. D. 1299. We see, in the Roman Catholic
Church, a body which, after a thousand years of various fortune, has reached
at length a height of power, the like of which was never held in human hands,
nor, it is likely, conceived in human thought, elsewhere. It is a power
resting on the invisible foundations of conscience, conviction, and religious
fear. To the popular belief, it holds literally the keys of Heaven and hell.
It spans like an arch the dreadful gulf between the worlds seen and unseen.
Its priesthood (professedly) rules by express Divine appointment; and its
chief is addressed in language such as it seems impious to address to any
other than to Almighty God. We see this ‘church’ in the person of its
priesthood, present absolutely everywhere. It carries in its hand the threads
that govern every province of human life. It offers or withholds, on its own
terms, the soul’s peace on earth and its salvation in eternity. We see it,
in the persons of its Pontiffs, maintaining conflict or alliance, on equal
terms, with the powers of the world. We see it, in the person of its Religious
Orders, penetrating to every nook and hamlet, ruling the popular passion and
imagination no less than the counsel of courts by its imperious word. We see
its matchless skill and power employed in the accumulation of enormous wealth.
The terrors of a death-bed, the popular fear of the approaching Day of
Judgment, the enthusiasm that equips the ranks of the Crusaders, and the
disorders of their impoverished estates—all are skillfully wrought upon to
fill the treasuries of the ‘church.’ It turns its doctrine of purgatory
into a source of profit, and sets a fixed price on its masses for the dead. It
makes a traffic of penance and indulgences. It seizes lands under forged
charters and deeds, and claims the administration of intestate estates. It
owns half the landed property of England, a nearly like proportion of France
and Germany It profits even by the violence of robbers and plunderers. We see
its pomp of priests, with chant and lighted taper and silver bell, striking
the rude mind of barbaric ignorance with awe, as some holy spell or oracle. We
see its Hermits, in their austere seclusion; its trains of Pilgrims, with bead
and cockle-shell; its Palmers, journeying from shrine to shrine, and bearing
the fragrant memory of the Holy Land; its barefoot Friars, sworn to beggary,
and wrangling whether Jesus and His disciples held in common any goods at all.
We see its secluded Abbey, its stately Cathedral, its statuary and painting,
and its Universities, thronged by great armies of young men, as many as twenty
thousand at once, it is said, in a single place. Lastly, we see its monstrous
enginery of despotic power, exercised through Inquisition, Excommunication and
Interdict. By its secret spies, by the ambush of its Confessional, it seeks to
lay bare every private thought or chance breath of opinion hostile to its
imperious claim. No husband, father, brother, is safe from the betrayal that
may become the pious duty of sister, daughter, bride. No place of hiding is
sufficiently close, or far enough away, to escape its ubiquitous, stealthy,
masked police. No soldierly valor, no public service, no nobility of
intellect, no purity of heart, is a defense from that most terrible of
tribunals, which mocks the suspected heretic with a show of investigation,
which wrenches his limbs on the rack or bursts his veins with the torturing
wedge, and under a hideous mask of mercy—since the ‘church’ may shed no
blood—delivers him over to the secular arm to be ‘dealt with gently’ as
his flesh crackles and his blood simmers at the accursed stake. That is the
Inquisition, the ‘church’s’ remedy for free thought. For simple
disobedience, it has in its hand the threat of Excommunication. Shut out from
all ‘church’ privilege; shunned like a leper by servants, family and
friends; incapable of giving testimony, or of claiming any rights before a
court; the very meats he has touched thrown away as pollution; a bier
sometimes set at his door, and stones thrown in at his casement; his dead body
cast out unburied—emperor, prince, priest or peasant, the excommunicated man
is met every moment, at every hand, by the shadow of a Curse that is worse
than death. The Interdict excommunicates a whole people for the guilt of a
sovereign’s rebellion. No church may be opened, no bell tolled. The dead lie
unburied; no pious rite can be performed but baptism of babes and absolution
of the dying. The gloom of an awful Fear hangs over the silent street and the
somber home; and not till the ‘church’s’ ban is taken off car the people
be free front the ghastly apparitions of supernatural horror. Nay, more. The
Interdict, in the last resort, ‘dissolved’ all law, annulled all
privilege, abrogated all rights, rescinded all obligations, and reduced
society to a chaos, until it should please the high priest of Rome to
reinstate order on the terms most conducive to his own glory and the pecuniary
profit of the chief and his agents. These are the ultima ratio, the
final appeal of ecclesiastical sway. ‘From the moment these interdicts and
excommunications had been tried,’ says Hallam, ‘the powers of the earth
may be said to have existed only by sufferance.’—J. H. Allen, in
Christian History.
During the first century the profession of Christianity
was so spiritual that there was no special reverence for any particular
places, and pilgrimages to such places were unknown. This state of things also
generally prevailed during the two succeeding centuries. In the fourth
century, however, as the profession of Christianity became more outward and
formal, and less spiritual, particular places, especially in Palestine, were
reverenced, and pilgrimages to them inaugurated. These so-called pious
journeys increased during the succeeding centuries, and continued although
Jerusalem was taken by the Saracens in 637. The stream of pilgrims largely
increased about the beginning of the eleventh century. It was thought that “a
pilgrimage to Jerusalem expiated all sin; a bath in the Jordan was, as it
were, a second baptism, and washed away all the evil of the former life; and
the shirt worn by the pilgrim when he entered the Holy City was carefully laid
by as his winding-sheet, and possessed, it was supposed, the power of
transporting him to Heaven.” In 1076 the Seljukian Turks conquered
Palestine, and treated the pilgrims with great insult and cruelty. These
outrages, especially under the impassioned appeals of Peter the Hermit and
Pope Urban II., roused Latin “Christendom” to revenge, and, during a
period of about two hundred years (from 1096 to 1291), seven crusades, in
which six millions of men were enlisted and two millions destroyed, were
undertaken either to wrest Jerusalem from the hands of the Mohammedans or
retain it in the hands of those called Christians. They were a series of the
most insane, criminal and disastrous expeditions ever undertaken in the
history of the human race; instigated by the popes of Rome (who promised to
all engaging in them the pardon of all sin and the assurance of everlasting
life), and fitly illustrating the infernal glories of universal papal
supremacy. They greatly increased the wealth of the Roman clergy, and the
power of the Pope of Rome; they greatly demoralized the nations of Europe, and
degraded the profession of the Christian religion. They taught men to believe
in the justice and piety of so-called religious wars; they were accompanied
with the exhibition of every circumstance of vice and crime, and with
diabolical massacres of Jews, Mohammedans and so-called heretics. The members
of the First Crusade, in their march to Constantinople, slaughtered thousands
of European Jews; and when on the 15th of July, 1099, they captured Jerusalem,
they burned up all the Jews there alive in their synagogue, and massacred,
during three days, seventy thousand Mohammedans, women and children, even
infants, as well as men, so that the streets are said to have run with blood
up to their horses’ knees, and the Mosque of Omar up to their saddle girths.
The crusades infused into the mind of Catholic Europe a long indelible thirst
for religious persecution. Among the benefits deduced by an overruling
Providence from these great evils are recounted the deliverance of the Greek
Catholic Empire from the Turks for three hundred and fifty years, the breaking
up of the feudal system, the abolition of serfdom, the Supremacy of common
law, and an interchange of thought and learning which ultimately resulted in
the revival of letters and the Protestant Reformation.
In the eleventh century a nominal Christianity had been
planted in all Europe except in the south of Spain, the north of Sweden, and
in Prussia and Russia.
Many persons, called Cathari (the pure), appeared in
Northern Italy, Germany and France, during this century, who entertained
sentiments similar to those of the Paulicians. They were stigmatized by their
enemies as Manicheans; but some of them, at, least, were only moderately, if
at all, inclined to dualism. They earnestly opposed the manifold
superstitions, idolatries and corruptions of the Catholics, and insisted upon
the necessity of a pure, inward, spiritual religion. Especially in France did
the Catholics put several of them to death, generally by burning.
ENDNOTES:
[1]
Says Prof. P. Schaff: “The Middle Ages, compared with ancient
Christianity, which preceded, and with modern Christianity, which followed,
are truly called the Dark Ages. The mediaeval light was indeed the borrowed
star and moonlight of ecclesiastical tradition, rather than the clear
sunlight from the inspired pages of the New Testament; but it was such light
as the eyes of the nations in their ignorance could bear, and it never
ceased to shine till it disappeared in the great daylight of the
Reformation. Christ had His witnesses in all ages and countries, and those
shine all the brighter who were surrounded by midnight darkness. The
superficial, wholesale, national, nominal conversions (by the Roman
Catholics) were conversions not to the primary Christianity of inspired
Apostles, as laid down in the New Testament, but to the secondary
Christianity of ecclesiastical tradition, as taught by the fathers, monks,
and popes; they we baptisms by water than by fire and the Holy Spirit. The
preceding instructions amounted to little or nothing; even the baptismal
formula, mechanically recited in Latin was scarcely understood; some of the
barbarian tribes were made to yield to baptism only by the sword of the
conqueror. The Middle Age of Western Christendom resemble the period of the
Judges in the history of Israel, when ‘every man did that which was right
in his own eyes.’ Might was right. It was the golden age of vice and
crime, credulity and superstition. Men feared purgatory and hell, and made
great sacrifices to gain Heaven by founding churches, convents, and
charitable institutions. Great stress was laid on prayer and fasting, on
acts of hospitality, charity and benevolence, and on pilgrimages to sacred
places. And yet there was a frightful amount of immortality among the rules
and the people and the clergy. It is said that every princely family of
Italy in the tenth century was tainted with incestuous blood.” Roman
Catholicism controlled all the departments of life from the cradle to the
grave. The Paulicians, Petrobrusians, Henricians, Arnoldists, Waldenses and
Albigenses contended earnestly against the horrible abominations of
Catholicism.
[2]
But he gives the husband the absolute, immediate, unquestioned
power of divorce; so that many Mohammedans marry a new wife every year, and
some almost every month, and all with the sanction of their most corrupt
religion.
[3]
The Mohammedan principle, says Neander, derived sin and holiness
alike from the Divine causality, and denied the distinction between a
permission and an actual efficiency on the part of God. It is Mohammedanism,
and not Christianity; it is the most wretched perversion of Scripture and
the most awful imaginable blasphemy, to identify God with Satan, the source
of holiness with the source of sin; to maintain that the Holy, Holy, Holy
Lord of hosts, the Holy One of Israel, He whose nature is holy and reverend,
who is of purer eyes than to behold evil, and cannot look on iniquity, who
is the Father of lights, and in whom is no darkness at all, who does not
tempt or seek to seduce man to maintain that the Holy Spirit, who is God,
inspires sinful thoughts or purposes in any of his creatures. He foreknows,
and permits, and controls all things, not instigating, but bending the
wickedness of men and devils into that channel that shall enhance His own
glory and His people’s good. The Divine Spirit is the author of all
holiness and not the author of any unholiness. No Baptist, no Christian
believes that God is the cause or author of sin.
[4]
Many Mohammedans in Arabia and elsewhere are more polytheistic
than monotheistic: as they, like the Catholics, worship their deceased
"saints."
[5]
See Joseph Henry Allen’s recent lectures, delivered at Harvard
University, on Christian History, Vol. i., page 223.
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