We read in the first chapter of Genesis that before the light dawned on the dark and empty earth, the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. There is a remarkable parallel in the case of Christendom at the beginning of the sixteenth century. Deep darkness prevailed, when suddenly, not in one, but in almost all the countries of Christendom the light began to shine. It was a universal work of the Spirit of God. When we turn our attention to the work in Switzerland at this epoch, we find that ere Luther was heard of publicly, Ulric Zwingli had already begun to preach salvation in Christ alone.
Zwingli was born at Wildhaus, a village in the valley of Tockenburg on New Year’s Day, 1484, the third of a family of eight sons. He was only a few weeks younger than Luther. His father was bailiff of the parish and desired to give him an education suited to his talents. When about nine years of age, he was sent to Wesen and then to Basle. Making rapid progress in his studies, he was sent to Berne. An attempt having been made by the friars to lure him into a monastery, he was called home, but the love of learning was kindled in him, and he was given the opportunity of further study in Vienna. Other men, whose light was later to shine in the great movement soon to begin, were having their eyes opened in these days. In 1512 Capito, curé of the cathedral church of Basle, expounding the Epistle to the Romans to his hearers, began to see the truth for himself. Oecolampadius had gone to Stuttgart in 1514 to study Greek and Hebrew under the famous Reuchlin and helped Erasmus in his translation from the Greek. At Basle, Zwingli had come under the teaching of Thomas Wittembach. Skilled in the original tongues of the Bible, he had drawn direct from the fountain of truth. He was accustomed to say, “The time is not far distant when the scholastic theology will be abolished and the ancient doctrine of the Church restored. The death of Christ is the only ransom for our souls.” A fellow-pupil of Zwingli’s at this time was Leo Juda, who was also to play his part in the coming revival. Thus was God preparing the way. When but twenty-two years of age, Zwingli became Pastor of Glarus, a village near to his own. His parish covered a third of the canton.
The warrior Pope Julius II was fighting against the King of France and the men of Glarus had been enlisted in the papal army. Young Zwingli went with them as chaplain. His eyes were opened to the vices of Italy and the evils of the papal system. On his return, he devoted himself to the study of the Scriptures. “When,” he said later, “I began to give myself wholly up to the Holy Scriptures, philosophy and theology would always keep suggesting quarrels to me. At last I came to this, ‘Thou must let all that lie and learn the meaning of God purely out of His own simple Word.’ Then I began to ask God for His light, and the Scriptures began to be much easier to me, although I am but lazy.” While he used commentaries, he did not admit that any man or any body of men had any exclusive ability to interpret Scripture or authoritatively explain it. The Spirit who inspired it, he claimed, would reveal its meaning to each earnest and prayerful reader. Thus was a solid foundation laid in Zwingli’s soul. The great truth which Luther learned and taught was justification by faith; the cardinal principle which Zwingli embraced and insisted on was the sole authority of the Word of God.
In 1516 Zwingli was invited to become preacher in the Convent of Einsiedeln. Its abbot was not in favor of the superstitions of the Church and had actually discontinued the celebration of the mass. Yet the Convent of Einsiedeln was the most famous in all Switzerland and Upper Germany and a great resort of pilgrims, for it possessed an image of the Virgin which was reputed to work miracles. Over the portal was a sign indicating that “Plenary Indulgences” were to be “obtained within.” Zwingli looked with compassion on the superstitious multitudes who came, many from distant places. He boldly proclaimed the folly of it all. He preached the gospel. He spoke to them of Christ crucified, of the full and eternal efficacy of His sacrifice, and that through Him pardon is offered without money and without price. Some were offended to think that their journey and trouble was useless and vain, but others listened eagerly and drank the water of life. Thus a stronghold of superstition became a center of the gospel. The crowds began to vanish and the shrine began to be forsaken, much to Zwingli’s joy. He was permitted to serve the cause of truth in that place for three years.
In January 1519, he became preacher in the Cathedral of Zurich and began to read and expound the Gospel of Matthew. Numerous and eager audiences listened to him telling of a “free salvation.” All Switzerland was affected. “Glory be to God!” the listeners were heard to say. “This man is a preacher of the truth. He will be our Moses to lead us forth from this Egyptian darkness.”
Samson, one of the Pope’s pardonmongers, was on the way to Zurich. Zwingli preached so effectively against the scandalous sale of pardons for money that Samson found the city unwilling to receive him and he went ignominiously away, without selling a single pardon.
In the late summer of 1519 the Plague visited Zurich. Zwingli was constantly at the bedsides of the sick and dying. At last he too was stricken. Himself now at the point of death, he proved the solid worth of the gospel he had preached. In these solemn moments, he penned the following poignant verses, which remain a living testimony to the faith of his soul.
Lo, at the door
I hear Death’s knock;
Shield me, O Lord,
My strength and rock
.
The hand once nailed
Upon the tree:
Jesus, uplift
And shelter me.
Willest Thou, then,
Death conquer me
In my noonday? ...
So let it be!
Oh, may I die,
Since I am Thine;
Thy home is made
For faith like mine.
Zwingli recovered. God had much work for His servant, yet his experience had had a purifying effect; his preaching became deeper and more effectual. The large cathedral could not hold the would-be listeners, yet all this while he continued to practice the rites of the Church, even the mass. His aim was positive, not negative: to preach the truth, not to overthrow the existing order. The truth, he felt, would inevitably displace error when it had found its place in men’s hearts.
Meanwhile, others were laboring elsewhere. Capito and Hedio were preaching the gospel at Basle. From that city Luther’s writings were now issuing from the press and finding their way into England, France, Spain and Italy. Myconius was laboring, though on more barren soil, at Lucerne. Meyer and Haller and Kolb were sowing the good seed in Berne. The Lord of the harvest was now sending other laborers into His fields. Within the short space of ten years a large part of Switzerland had been won for the gospel. The images were removed and the worship of God cleansed from Romish rites. Audiences sometimes became too great for the churches to hold. The people assembled to listen to the preacher and sing the psalms in the fields and meadows. Luther’s German translation of the New Testament was introduced into Switzerland in 1522 and Zwingli himself wrote:
“Every peasant’s cottage became a school in which the highest art of all was practiced, the reading of the Old and New Testament, for the right and true schoolmaster of His people is God, without whom all languages and all arts are but nets of deception and treachery. Every cow and goose herd became thereby better instructed in the knowledge of salvation than the schoolmen.”
But the five forest cantons did not share in this blessed revival. Not only did they cling to the superstitions of Rome, but they became opponents and persecutors of those who had embraced the gospel.
As in other countries at this time, the secular power mingled in the work of reform. This is the fundamental weakness of the Reformation period. Switzerland — a federation of little self-governing communities — was now divided. The five forest cantons, Lucerne, Zug, Schwytz, Uri and Unterwalden, made a compact with Austria against the reformed cantons, thus infringing the constitution of the Federal Republic. Zurich unwisely attempted to boycott the forest cantons. Civil war ensued. At the battle of Cappel in 1531, the small force of Zurichers was overwhelmed. Zwingli, who had accompanied the troops as chaplain, and twenty-five other pastors lost their lives. There was another battle at Zug in which Zurich was again defeated. Rome was exultant; Te Deums were sung in the papal city and in Catholic countries. The mass was restored, but the gospel had by now so strong a hold on the hearts of the people that it could not be eradicated. A compromise was effected and toleration for both parties was agreed upon. From this time forward, the progress of the gospel in Switzerland was slow and silent.
What Zwingli was to German Switzerland, Farel became to French-speaking Switzerland. Arriving in 1526 at Aigle, he began to evangelize this beautiful but benighted land. He began as a schoolmaster, sowing the seed of the gospel along with secular instruction. Later he began to preach openly. God was with him. One place after another received the gospel.
In Neuchatel the victory was commemorated by an inscription on a pillar of the cathedral which ran: “On October 23, 1530, idolatry was overthrown and removed from this church by the citizens.” Opposition and persecution dogged his steps, but he was preserved and supported in a wonderful way. He often had before him the conquest of Geneva for the gospel. Geneva was a stronghold of Rome, and when Farel finally entered it and proclaimed the glad tidings of free salvation, he was treated like the first preachers of the gospel and barely escaped with his life. However, he induced a young man named Froment to go there. Froment did as Farel had done elsewhere: He started a school. Beginning with the children, he soon had a class of adults who came to hear the gospel. Wonderful success attended his efforts. God was evidently working. Those who were converted drew together and formed a little band of believers. He was urged to preach in the Market Square. This took place on New Year’s Day, 1533. Froment was now driven out of the city, but the work proceeded. The seed had been sown and was producing a wonderful harvest. Believers met in secret and partook of the Lord’s supper in its pristine simplicity. A plot was hatched to massacre every Protestant in Geneva. Being warned, these stood for their lives, armed and ready to repulse their would-be murderers. By a wonderful intervention of Providence, some merchants from Fribourg sojourning in the city succeeded in making peace, but it was for a time only. However, the hand of God seemed over the flock in Geneva, and once again the dangers were averted. The gospel was rapidly gaining the hearts of the people. At this juncture, Farel returned with Froment and Viret. Attacks now came from without, and the city had to face a siege by partisans of Rome. The citizens destroyed the suburbs to strengthen the ramparts. On August 27, 1535, the city council issued an edict enjoining that public worship was henceforth to be conducted according to the rule of the gospel. Geneva was now a Protestant city. On May 21 in the following year, an extraordinary event took place. The whole body of the citizens, led by their magistrates and ministers, took an oath to renounce the doctrines of Rome and live according to the teaching of the gospel. Laws were made prohibiting gambling, blasphemy, dances, lascivious songs and masquerades. All were to be in their homes by nine o’clock at night. Sunday was to be a day of rest.
In August that year Calvin entered Geneva. Some account must be given of this remarkable man, who influenced not only Geneva, but left his mark on the whole of Christendom. Calvin was a Frenchman, born at Noyon in 1509. From his youth he was marked by a serious turn of mind and upright life and devoted to the Romish religion. While studying in Paris, he was influenced by his cousin Olivetan, who was a disciple of Lefevre’s. They had many a heated discussion as to the truth, which left their impress on Calvin’s young mind. One day he witnessed the burning of a martyr and was much affected by the calm way in which he faced his cruel death. He was led to read the Scriptures. The light of Christ’s atoning death broke into his soul. A bitter conflict took place in his soul, for the authority of the Romish Church held him, as so many others, in its terrible bondage. But his chains were broken, and he left in heart the Church of Rome for the Church of the Bible. This was in 1527. Hitherto his studies had an ecclesiastical career in view. His plans were now changed, and he decided to study law, a course which led him first to Orleans, then to Bourges. Bourges was in the domain of the Queen of Navarre, a protector of those who held the faith of the gospel. Here he abandoned law to preach the truth. Returning to Noyon on the death of his father, he passed through Paris. He was in the city on the day when Berquin, one of the first noblemen of France, was burned at the stake. Berquin was a humble Christian and a zealous evangelist. About this time, the Queen of Navarre had opened the doors of the Palace of the Louvre for gospel preachings, a proceeding which the King condoned, as he was at this time disposed to curry the favor of the Reformation party in Germany for political reasons. Many at this time were looking for a great gospel victory in France. In 1533 Cop, the rector of the University, was persuaded by Calvin to read for his inaugural address a paper which he (Calvin) had composed. It was evangelical in its substance, though academic in its form. The papists quickly saw the implications, and a storm arose. Both the rector and Calvin had to flee for their lives. Calvin was in his room when the officers arrived to arrest him. He was hastily let down by friends through the window and escaped by the skin of his teeth. Leaving Paris in the disguise of a laborer, he escaped to Angouleme, where he found refuge with a nobleman of his acquaintance. There, after resting for six months, he departed for Poitiers. In that city he quietly spread the gospel and gathered around him, more or less in secret, a company of converts. They even took the Lord’s supper together in a cave, subsequently known as Calvin’s grotto. When he quitted Poitiers to return home on the death of his father, he left a little congregation of believers behind him, meeting according to scriptural principles. He greatly desired to further the gospel in the capital and he went once more to Paris, arriving at a time when the King was trying to bring about a union of the Reformed and Roman Churches.
Before long, however, he left Paris for Strasbourg. It was well he did, for the storm over the placards burst out almost immediately, and many Christians lost their lives in the awful persecutions which followed. Calvin was in Basle when the news reached him. Now, at twenty-seven years of age, he sat down and wrote his Institutes. The first edition only contained six chapters, but it was enlarged in the following twenty-four years. A clear, logical setting out of Christian doctrine, nothing like it had been attempted before. It spread rapidly among all classes and became in itself a powerful preacher. The value of a clear exposition of Christian faith, after ages of Romish darkness and superstition, can hardly be realized in our more enlightened times. He retired at this juncture into a temporary oblivion, finding a refuge at the court of the Duchess of Ferrara who was a friend of the gospel. His next move, after a short space, was to Geneva. This city, which was destined to become a sort of capital of the Reformation movement, had had a romantic history. After the break-up of Charlemagne’s empire, it was for a long time an independent city. At the beginning of the sixteenth century it was about to be absorbed by the Duke of Savoy. Suffice it to say that it retained, with the help of other Swiss cities, its independence. Now came another phase in its history with the arrival of the gospel, to which we have already referred, its acceptance by the citizens, and the overthrow of the Romish form of worship.
In August 1536 Calvin arrived in Geneva unannounced. His presence was quickly revealed. Farel urged him — even adjured him — to stay and work in the city. Though reluctant at first, he was persuaded and threw himself wholeheartedly into the work. The remarkable, peaceful revolution in favor of the gospel had just taken place. Calvin helped Farel to draw up a confession of faith which all the citizens swore to individually. This took place in November 1536. It must be borne in mind that Geneva was an independent, self-governing community, all the citizens, in fact, having a part in its government. Of their own will, the people of Geneva set up a theocracy on Old Testament lines. God was regarded as its Head and the Bible its code. The plan, however, was Calvin’s. Church and Government were allied, but the Church was self-governing. He modeled his church order on the New Testament, in which he saw the two offices of elders and deacons, but from among the elders there were elected pastors and teachers. In this, both the magistrates and the people had a voice. A consistory of ministers and laymen watched over the morals of the members, and those who remained obdurate after rebuke were excommunicated. But all the twenty thousand inhabitants were not truly converted persons, though doubtless a big proportion were. The worldly element rebelled at the strictness of life enjoined upon them and finally succeeded in getting Calvin banished from the city. Disorder and licentiousness, however, grew, and after two years the people of Geneva begged Calvin to return.
Having undertaken the onerous task of caring for the spiritual welfare of Geneva, Calvin spared himself no labor. He preached, he taught, he visited, he wrote treatises, and he conducted an immense correspondence. He arranged that every family should be visited at least once a year. The poor, too, were cared for. Under his influence, Geneva flourished and became, in a way, the metropolis of the Reformation. Thither fled persecuted Christians from many lands, and there they were succored. Popes and princes would have fain wiped the city off the face of the earth, but divine providence protected it, and it remained an oasis in the European desert during those dark days when the movement in Germany had undergone an eclipse, and the league of Protestant princes having been defeated, Romanism was, for a time, largely restored in Luther’s homeland. The little city prospered materially by the diligence and piety of its people and became, too, a center of learning and culture.
Calvin was, however, continually opposed and even persecuted by the worldly element in the city. They complained of too many sermons and too many religious books. Yet amid it all, Calvin went on his way. He lived simply, even poorly, and died a poor man, for he served God, not mammon. During the last years of his life, he toiled on amid much physical suffering. In the year 1564, on May 27, Calvin fell asleep. Over his grave no monument was raised, and its exact location is in doubt. In a short life of less than fifty-five years, he accomplished labors that might have occupied several normal lifetimes. In some things doubtless he erred or fell short, for what servant is there who is perfect? But the whole bent and tenor of his life was an utterly selfless devotion to what he believed to be the will of God. The Master of the servants will, in a coming day, put His own assessment on his life and labors and grant him his due reward.