It was about this time that a mendicant friar came to the villages around the Lake of Geneva. The mendicant friars were the followers of Francis of Assisi. Francis had commanded his monks to have no property, and to live by begging. These monks therefore roamed the country, and begged from door to door. They would return to their convents laden with money, with cheese, with wine, with fruit, with eggs, or whatever else they could persuade the village people to give them as a means of getting to heaven. Farel knew this begging friar by sight. He knew, too, that he had preached in another village that all who listened to Farel’s preaching would be punished forever in hell.
The monk had now come on to Aigle. He had no intentions of giving his warnings there. He was not the man who would attack a lion in his den. He had come to Aigle to beg for some wine, for which the village was famous. He started with terror when, in the street of the village, Farel stood before him.
“I accosted him amiably,” says Farel, “as our Lord has commanded. I asked him if he had preached at Noville.
“He said, ‘Yes,’ looking much frightened.
“I asked if the devil could preach the gospel of our Lord Jesus, and if all who hear the gospel are damned.
“He answered, ‘No.’
" I said ‘Why, then, did you preach that publicly? I pray you prove your words, and show me what I have said amiss, for I would sooner die than mislead poor people whom the Lord Jesus has ransomed with His precious blood. And I would rather die than teach any other gospel than that of our Lord Jesus.’
"Then he whispered in my ear, ‘I was told you were a heretic, and that you misled the people.’
‘I was told! that is not enough,’ I answered. ‘Prove that I have done it, and stick to what you have preached. As for me, I am ready to stand up for what I have preached, were it in the fire.’
“‘I didn’t come here to dispute with you, but to beg for my convent,’ he said, ‘whether you preach the truth or not, is no business of mine.’
There is no occasion to dispute,’ I answered, I only ask you to prove what you have said, for the honor of God. For the honor of God ought to be dearer to us than everything else.’
“Thus walking together, as I pressed him to prove his words, he kept turning his head this way and that, as if with an uneasy conscience. Then he whispered in my ear, ‘You are a heretic, and you lead people astray.’
“Just then, some laborers followed us, coming home from their work, and I said to them, ‘This good priest has been preaching that I am a teacher of lies, and that those who hear me are damned. And just this moment he told me I was a heretic, who leads people astray.’
“Then he said, ‘What do you say I told you? It is all out of your own head, you are mad!’
“I answered, ‘God is witness of what you said, why do you deny it? If I am what you say, prove it, nobody will hurt you, prove it to these good people. They would rather hear you than me.’"
Then the monk murmured something about Farel's having preached against the offerings made to the church. He was, perhaps, doubtful whether he should get his wine.
“I preached,” said Farel, “and I maintain it, that no living man has a right to order any way of serving God, other than that which He has Himself commanded. He has told us neither to add to His words, nor to diminish from them. And if an angel came down from heaven to tell us to do anything which God has not commanded, let him be accursed!”
The monk answered, “Offerings should be made for the honor of God, and in gratitude to Him.”
Farel said, “We honor God by remembering the poor, and by keeping God’s commandments. We show Him gratitude by worshipping Him in spirit and in truth, with a broken and contrite heart, for we ought to be displeased with ourselves that we have not followed His holy commandments, according to the profession made in our baptism. It was a profession of living and dying in the faith of our Lord, and that faith is the only law for every Christian; we need make no more laws for ourselves. For there is none better than God, who can give a better rule than He has given. There is none wiser who would know how to do so. There is none greater who has a right to do so.”
The monk, not knowing what to say, or how to get away, behaved like a naughty child. He pulled off his cap, threw it on the ground, and stamped upon it with rage, saying, “I wonder the earth doesn’t swallow you up!”
“Listen to Master Farel,” said a countryman, laying his hand on the monk’s sleeve, “he is willing to listen to you.”
“Don’t put your excommunicated hand upon me!” said the monk.
“Is everybody excommunicated who touches you?” said the countryman, “have you a different God from ours?”
A crowd had gathered by this time, and fearing a disturbance, a constable came up, seized the monk and Farel, and led them off to the castle of Aigle. He shut up the monk in one tower, and Farel in the other. The next morning, they were taken before the magistrates, and Farel was allowed to make his defense.
“Gentlemen,” said Farel, “you are the rulers to whom God has commanded us to give honor, because He has entrusted you with authority, to be used for His glory. If I have been misleading the people, as this friar says, I desire to be punished. But in that case, the friar must prove that what I preach is contrary to the Word of God. But if he cannot prove it, I desire that those to whom he has falsely accused me, may be undeceived.”
The frightened monk here fell upon his knees, and said, “My lords, I ask your pardon. Master Farel, I ask your pardon also. I am willing to own that I spoke against you on account of false reports which I heard of you.”
“Don’t ask my pardon,” said Farel. “I had forgiven you, and I had prayed to God for you, before I met you in the street. I should have said nothing about it, had it only concerned me. But it was a question of the honor of God. It was His blessed gospel which was evil-spoken of. As for me, I am only a poor sinner, with no righteousness of my own, saved only by the death of Jesus. I do not want to have you punished, I only want you to say, here in public, before my face, what you said behind my back; I can then give you my reasons for preaching as I have done.”
A gentleman from Berne, coming in at this moment, proposed that the monk should be sentenced to hear Farel’s sermon the next day, and if he found nothing in it contrary to the Bible, he should publicly confess that he agreed with it. On the other hand, if he found it was false teaching, he should give his reasons for saying so. The monk was sentenced accordingly, and then released, having promised, by giving his hand, that he would appear at the sermon, next day. But he was never seen again.