It is not for us to judge how much of the energy of the flesh, how much of human excitement there was in that day’s work of which I have told you in the Cathedral of Neuchâtel. No doubt the instruments thus used by God were imperfect and liable to err; but that it was God’s work we cannot doubt, if the Scriptures are true, and if the God is unchanged whose solemn words we read, spoken of the idols of older times. “The graven images of their gods shall ye burn with fire; thou shalt not desire the silver or the gold that is on them, nor take it unto thee, lest thou be snared therein, for it is an abomination to the Lord thy God. Neither shalt thou bring an abomination into thine house, lest thou be a cursed thing like it, but thou shalt utterly detest it, and thou shalt utterly abhor it, for it is a cursed thing.”
And it is God Himself, who has written the history of those older days, when idols were broken and altars were cast down, even as on that October day at Neuchâtel. You will find in one book in the Bible no less than six kings mentioned whom God has thus remembered with words of praise, because they did the same work of destruction in obedience to Him.
Do you say those were images of heathen gods, and it was therefore a different thing from breaking the images of Mary, and of Christ Himself? It is true it is a different thing; but the difference is, that it is a less terrible crime in the eyes of God to fall down before a heathen idol, than to mix up His holy Name with images of wood and stone, and, above all, to say of a piece of bread, “that is”—not that represents—“God Himself.” No heathen idolatry has reached that depth of sin. The heathen says that his idol represents his god. The Papist says the wafer is his God. And with regard to the images, if I know by the Holy Spirit within me the living Christ in Heaven, I shall shrink with greater horror from an image of Him made by the hands of man than from a block of wood or stone which represents a god that does not exist. There is a profaning of His holy name in the first instance, which there is not in the latter, abominable as both are in the sight of God. And if we know anything of the living God, if we have any care for His honor, any reverence for His holy name, we shall thank and praise Him even now for that day’s work in the great church of Neuchâtel.
But what had the priests and canons and the monks of the five convents been about all this time? Had they been asleep whilst the gospel had thus been preached day after day, from June till the end of October? They had been fully awake and alive. They had sent messengers to Berne entreating the Bernese to deliver them from Farel. They had forbidden the people to listen to him. They had carried him early in the summer before a magistrate, and had had him fined to the amount of 10,000 crowns. This, they said, was but a just punishment for his having stuck up placards, saying that the priests were thieves, murderers, and deceivers of the people. Farel had replied to this that it was not he who stuck up the placards. At the same time, if they desired him to deny that the priests were thieves and murderers, he must decline to do so. “For is not,” he said, “a man who extorts money on false pretenses a thief? And if you call a man a murderer who only kills the body, how much more is he a murderer who destroys souls by his evil teaching, and keeps perishing sinners from Christ?”
The citizens had then demanded of the priests that they should hold a public discussion with Farel. “If he is wrong,” they said, “at least let us hear what you have to say. Tell us, in the name of God, what proof there is that he is a heretic. Speak either for him or against him, and let us hear both sides.”
But the priests were silent. The citizens had then sent to the canons a paper containing their reasons for believing Farel was right. Not one of the priests contradicted this paper. They treated it only with silent contempt. And thus had the citizens been brought at last to see that nothing was to be hoped for from the priests. It was no use to ask their leave or advice any more. Some of the people had even before the 23rd of October broken some images in the streets in order to force the priests to speak their mind. But all was in vain.
And now the hour had come when the priests were to be appealed to no more. The people of Neuchâtel found themselves on that wonderful day face to face with God. It was with Him they had to do. And the priests felt themselves as nothing in the presence of that mighty power which heeded them not. Those of them who were not convinced by all they then saw and heard fled in terror, and Neuchâtel was free.
It was not yet a year since the “poor, pious Farel had come, in the power of the Holy Spirit, to take Neuchâtel for Christ.” And how had God led him on to that wonderful moment, when he saw the last idol demolished, the last priest go forth from Neuchâtel, never to return! And now, with none to hinder, he could preach the glad tidings, and thank God day by day for souls “added to the Lord.”
None to hinder! Was there not still George de Rive? But he, poor man, was now utterly helpless. He wrote to the Princess Jeanne to tell her of the dreadful day when the images had been destroyed. He said it was useless for him to say anything to people who declared that in the matter of their faith God alone was their ruler. All that he could do he had done: that was, to lock up in the castle all the ornaments which he could find in the private chapel of the princess. He had stored away there her images and her chapel organ. He had also provided a refuge in convents at a distance, for the priests and canons and chorister boys. He could do no more.
The Princess Jeanne took no notice of this letter. She cared too little for the quiet, old-fashioned town, which she never wished to see again. They might do anything they liked there, provided she got her revenues paid when they were due. In the following April she sent her youngest son, Francis, to make sure that the people of Neuchâtel still owned their allegiance to her. Francis was quite satisfied that they were loyal subjects, and when those of the citizens who were still papists entreated him to restore the old worship, he gave them to understand that he did not come to meddle with religion—they must settle that as best they could.
And so the last hope of the papists vanished. They were the smaller and the weaker party now. They had to be silent.
Meanwhile, two tables for the breaking of bread had been placed in the church instead of the broken altar. A plain pulpit was fixed against a pillar. There Farel preached with none to hinder. “Here,” he said, “you can now offer up the worship the Father delights in. You can worship Him at last in Spirit and in truth. The great Sun of Righteousness, Jesus Christ, and the glory of His gospel need none of our lighted incense, none of our candles and tapers! The anti-Christ, who has nothing to show but vileness, darkness, and corruption, has need to seek for all he can find to give a luster to his devilries. Jesus, who is the truth, rejects all that. He Himself is enough, and nothing more is needed. Accursed by God are all those things which are called His service, but which He has not Himself commanded. Let us pray to the good Lord Jesus, that He may make of us an Assembly pure and holy, purged from everything which He has not ordained, so that nothing may be seen amongst us but Jesus only, and that which He has commanded; and may it be seen purely and simply as He commanded it, so that, we in Him and He in us, by living faith we may serve and honor our blessed God and Father, who lives and reigns eternally with the Son and with the Holy Spirit.”
George de Rive himself was convinced that the cause of popery was lost. He took the votes of the citizens one by one, as to whether the mass should be restored. The town waited anxiously to know the result. There were eighteen more votes on the side of the gospel than on the side of the mass. There was, therefore, to be mass no more. The governor himself and the magistrates of the town set their seals to this decision. The governor then rose and said: “I promise to do nothing to oppose the decision of this day, for I am myself witness that all has been done fairly and justly, without threatening or compulsion.”
Thus was the matter set at rest from that day to this.
And it is worthy of remark that, in the letter written by the governor to the Princess Jeanne, and in all other accounts given by him of these great events, the name of Farel is not mentioned. The destruction of the images, the change of worship, the cessation of the mass, were all described by the governor as the work of the citizens. Nor did the citizens themselves bring forward Farel as their authority for what they had done. The voice which had spoken to them was from other lips; it was the voice which speaks from Heaven. Christ had His sheep in that barren corner of the wilderness, and His sheep had followed Him, for they knew His voice. “The enlightenment of the Holy Ghost,” said the citizens, “and the holy teaching of the gospel, as we find it in the Word of God, have proved to us that the mass is an abuse without any use and that it serves more for the damnation than for the salvation of souls. We are ready to prove and to certify that in demolishing the altars we have only done that which was right and pleasing to God.”
Yes, in the presence of God Himself, Farel was lost sight of. It was the voice of God that had spoken. It was the light of God that had shone down from the glory upon that dark old town, and in the glory of that light Farel was no longer seen. “The excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus had eclipsed everything. The stars, as well as the darkness of night, disappear before the sun.”
It has been said of Paul, “Such as he are chords on which God strikes, and on which He produces a wondrous music; but Christ is the music itself.”
Farel had had to learn in that dark, wet night, near Strasburg, how little he could do. He now learned the lesson which follows—what mighty works Christ could do. But the first lesson must always be learned first, or we shall never become “the chord upon which the music of God can sound.”
It would be worse than useless to tell you this story if it were to prove to you how great a man was Farel. But the highest honor any man can have is this—that when his history is told it is a tale of the greatness and the love of God. May this be your history and mine!