Lecture 5 History of the Doctrine in the Romish Church after the Reformation
The controversy between Rome and the Reformation was carried on, with much keenness and with great ability on both sides, long after Protestantism had acquired a firm footing in Europe, and assumed a distinct and permanent form, as an ecclesiastical organization. The history of that protracted struggle is replete with interest and instruction;—and no part of it is more important than that which relates to the doctrine of a sinner’s Justification in the sight of God. The more salient points of this part of the history may be sufficiently illustrated by considering—the original charge of the Romanists against the Protestant doctrine of Justification, as contrasted with their subsequent treatment of it; and the persistent attempts which were made by some men on both sides to effect a reconciliation and compromise between the two antagonist systems, and even to harmonize the symbolical books in which they were respectively embodied, by leaving out of view, or explaining away, whatever was peculiar or distinctive either in the Protestant, or in the Popish, doctrine.
The original charge of the Romanists against the Protestant doctrine of Justification should be carefully considered, in the first instance, and then compared with their subsequent treatment of it.
The light in which the Protestant doctrine was universally regarded at first by the adherents of the Church of Rome,—by the Pope and his legates, by the Emperor and his princes, by the Bishops and their clergy, and, generally, by both the civil and ecclesiastical partisans of the Papal See,—is sufficiently shown by the treatment which they bestowed on the ‘Confession,’ which was presented at the Diet of Augsburg, and afterwards on the ‘Apology’ for it, which was prepared in reply to their objections. Both the ‘Confession’ and the ‘Apology’ were carefully composed by the learned, prudent, and conciliatory Melancthon, but were revised and cordially approved by Luther and the Elector of Saxony; and they contained, in substance, a faithful exhibition of the doctrine which was then held by the whole body of the Reformers. (1) The method of Justification by the free grace of God, through faith alone in the sole merits of Christ, as the only Saviour of sinners, was there stated in the most moderate, and least offensive, terms; yet the Romish divines—Faber and Eckius—who undertook to answer the ‘Confession,’ rejected the Protestant doctrine on that subject entirely, and, on their report, it was rejected also in the Edict of the Diet. (2) The chief ground of their opposition to it, at that time, was its alleged ‘novelty,’ as a method of teaching which was now introduced for the first time, and which was at direct variance with that which had long prevailed in the Romish Church. It was this doctrine, more than any other, that excited the hostility both of the Papal See, and of the Imperial Diet; and the Reformers were made to feel that, unless they could consent to abandon, or at least to modify it, they must expose themselves and their cause to imminent danger. ‘It cannot be denied,’ says Melancthon, ‘that we are brought into trouble, and exposed to danger, for this one only reason, that we believe the favour of God to be procured for us, not by our observances, but for the sake of Christ alone.’ … ‘If the exclusive term, only, is disliked, let them erase the Apostle’s corresponding terms, freely, and without works.’ In reply to the charge of novelty, they admitted that the doctrine might be new to many in the Church of Rome, since it had long been obscured and corrupted by the false teaching and superstitious practices which generally prevailed,—but affirmed, that it was as old as the Gospel of Christ and His Apostles, to which they fearlessly appealed. ‘I, Dr. Martin Luther, the unworthy evangelist of the Lord Jesus Christ, thus think and thus affirm:—That this article,—namely, that faith alone, without works, justifies us before God,—can never be overthrown, for … Christ alone, the Son of God, died for our sins; but if He alone takes away our sins, then men, with all their works, are to be excluded from all concurrence in procuring the pardon of sin and justification. Nor can I embrace Christ otherwise than by faith alone; He cannot be apprehended by works. But if faith, before works follow, apprehends the Redeemer, it is undoubtedly true, that faith alone, before works, and without works, appropriates the benefit of redemption, which is no other than justification, or deliverance from sin. This is our doctrine; so the Holy Spirit teaches, and the whole Christian Church. In this, by the grace of God, will we stand fast, Amen!’ (3)
Such was the original charge of the Romish Church against the Protestant doctrine of Justification, and such the firm reply which the Reformers made to it, when they appealed from the corrupt traditions of later times to the ancient faith of the Apostolic age. But between the Diet of Augsburg in 1530, and that of Ratisbon in 1541, a marked and striking change occurred in the policy of the Romish party. Instead of denouncing the Protestant doctrine of Justification, as a dangerous novelty, directly opposed to the teaching of the Romish Church, they were now prepared ostensibly to adopt it as their own,—to claim it, even, as a part of that truth which they had always held and taught,—and to make it appear, that there was no real, or, at least, no radical, difference between the two parties, but only such as might be easily adjusted by mutual explanation and concession. Hence originated a long series of conferences, appointed by the Emperor, and attended by the Reformers, with the avowed object, on the part of their powerful promoters, of effecting a settlement by means of conciliation and compromise. The way had been prepared for some such attempt by the work of Erasmus, ‘On Concord in Religion,’ in 1533, which aimed at the reconciliation of the two parties, and ascribed almost as much to grace and faith as the Reformers could desire, while it adhered to the Popish idea of Justification, as ‘a purifying work on the heart,’ and to the Popish doctrine also of reward and ‘merit.’ (4) But the book which was the immediate occasion of the negotiations that followed, was compiled by Gropper, one of the Canons of Cologne, whose Archbishop, the pious Hermann, had attempted to reform his diocese by means of a Provincial Council in 1536. That Council drew up a number of articles, which were afterwards digested and published by Gropper, and which were mainly directed ‘to palliate the Popish doctrines, and to colour them with new interpretations.’ This worthless book, which Luther had seen before, and characterized as ‘crafty and ambiguous,’ and of which the mild Melancthon had said, ‘There is nothing so monstrous, that it may not be made to appear plausible by dexterous management, and the magic touch of a skilful sophister,’ came into the hands of the Emperor. It pleased him as a politician, because it recommended concessions, sometimes on one side, and sometimes on the other; and he presented it to the Diet at Ratisbon as a basis of agreement, naming three divines on each side—Eckius, Gropper, and Pflug, for the Romanists,—and Melancthon, Bucer, and Pistorius, for the Protestants,—to examine it, and report. Strange as it may seem, an article on Justification was agreed upon in the conference of divines,—subject, however, to the approbation of the Diet,—an article which was afterwards found to be satisfactory to neither party, but offensive to both; and as it throws an instructive light on the new policy which began to be adopted at that time by the adherents of Rome, and which has been pursued, more or less consistently, ever since, we may mark, first, the large concessions which were now made in favour of the Protestant doctrine of Justification; and, secondly, the careful reservation of one point, and only one, which was so ambiguously expressed as to be susceptible of different interpretations, while, according to the sense in which it was understood, it involved the whole difference between the Popish, and the Protestant, method of acceptance with God,—between Justification by imputed, and Justification by infused or inherent, righteousness.
The concessions which were made to the Protestants were apparently large and liberal; for the article, as preserved by Du Pin, expressly bears,—that ‘since the fall of Adam, all men are born enemies of God, and children of wrath by sin,’—that ‘they cannot be reconciled to God, or redeemed from the bondage of sin, but by Jesus Christ, our only Mediator,’—that ‘their mind is raised up to God, by faith in the promises made to them, that their sins are freely forgiven them, and that God will adopt those for His children who believe in Jesus Christ,’—that ‘faith justifies not, but as it leads us to mercy and righteousness, which is imputed to us through Jesus Christ and His merits, and not by any perfection of righteousness which is inherent in us, as communicated to us by Jesus Christ,’—and that ‘we are not just, or accepted by God, on account of our own works or righteousness, but we are reputed just on account of the merits of Jesus Christ only.’ (5) That these statements contain the substance of the Protestant doctrine if undeniable; and had they stood alone, they might have justified the fond belief which Melancthon once expressed when he said, ‘The times have much softened down the controversy respecting Justification; for the learned are now agreed on many points, concerning which there were at first fierce disputes.’ (6) But amidst all these concessions, one point was carefully reserved, or expressed in ambiguous terms, which was of such vital and fundamental importance that, according to the sense in which it was understood, it would determine the whole character of the article, as a deliverance in favour, either of the Popish, or the Protestant, doctrine of Justification.
That point was—the faith by which we are justified,—or rather the precise function which belongs to it, and the ground or reason of the efficacy which is ascribed to it. According to the Protestant doctrine, it is the means of Justification, simply because it receives and rests upon Christ alone,—because it apprehends and appropriates His righteousness as its only plea,—because it implies an absolute renunciation of all self-dependence, and consists in an entire and cordial reliance on Christ as ‘the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world,’—as ‘the propitiation for our sins through faith in His blood,’—and as ‘the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth in His name.’ But according to the Popish doctrine, faith justifies, not by uniting the sinner to Christ, and making him a partaker of Christ’s righteousness,—but by ‘working’ in him, and ‘sanctifying’ him,—by being, in its own essential nature as one of the ‘fruits of the Spirit,’ and by producing, in its actual operation as a vital principle which ‘worketh by love,’ a real inherent righteousness, which is, on its own account, acceptable to God, and which constitutes the immediate ground of his acceptance;—in short, by making him righteous, subjectively, so that thereby, and on that account, he may be reputed righteous, and obtain at once the pardon of sin, and a title to eternal life. This cardinal point, which may be justly said to be the hinge on which the whole question turned, was carefully reserved, or wrapt up in ambiguous terms, at Ratisbon;—and these were only the more insidious, because they contained a truth respecting the nature and effects of justifying faith, which the Reformers held as strongly as their opponents. The article declared, that ‘sinners are justified by a living and effectual faith, which is a motion of the Holy Spirit, whereby, repenting of their lives past, they are raised to God, and made real partakers of the mercy which Jesus Christ hath promised,’ … ‘which no man attains but at the same time love is shed abroad in his heart, and he begins to fulfil the law;’ and that ‘this is not to hinder us from exhorting the people to increase this faith and this charity by outward and inward works; so that, though the people be taught that faith alone justifieth, yet repentance, the fear of God and of His judgments, and the practice of good works, ought to be preached unto them.’ All this is true, but it is not relevant to the question at issue. It relates to faith, not as it justifies, but as it sanctifies, a sinner. It diverts the mind from the external object of justifying faith, which is Christ alone, and His perfect righteousness; and directs it to the inward effect of faith, in changing the character and conduct of the sinner, and producing an inherent, but imperfect, righteousness of his own. The doctrine is sound and wholesome in its own place, and in its proper connection; but it becomes unsound and dangerous, when it is mixed up with the truth which relates to the ground and reason of a sinner’s pardon and acceptance with God. It virtually substitutes the work of the Spirit in us, in the place of the work of Christ for us; or, at least, it does not represent the work of the Spirit as the mere application of the redemption and righteousness of Christ, already wrought out by Him, and sufficient of itself for the immediate justification of every believer, but as being, either in whole or in part, the ground or reason on account of which God bestows His forgiveness and favour. And thus, by introducing the sanctifying effects of faith into their definition of it, as it is the means of Justification, the Popish divines made provision for falling back on their favourite doctrine of an inherent, as opposed to an imputed, righteousness; and for ultimately setting aside all the concessions which they had apparently made.
The article thus carefully concocted, and couched in ambiguous terms, was satisfactory to neither party, and was openly denounced by both. It had too much of the Gospel in it to be palatable to the consistent adherents of Rome, and too much of disguised legalism to be acceptable to the Reformed. On the one side, the Legate, Cardinal Contarini, was charged by Cardinal Caraffa, who afterwards became Pope as Paul IV., with having betrayed the cause of the Church, especially on the question of Justification. On the other side, the Elector of Saxony objected strongly to the article, and complained that ‘the doctrine of Justification by faith alone, was well nigh buried beneath appendages and explanations.’ (7)
From this narrative we may derive several important lessons. It shows that, between the Diet of Augsburg and that of Ratisbon,—or in the course of little more than ten years,—the same doctrine of Justification which had been openly rejected as a ‘novelty,’ at direct variance with the teaching of the Church, came to be regarded in an entirely different light, and even to be claimed as a truth which had always been taught by the priests and bishops of Rome. Luther, marking this sudden change, could hardly restrain his indignant sarcasm, and exclaimed, ‘Popish writers pretend that they have always taught, what we now teach, concerning faith and good works, and that they are unjustly accused of the contrary: thus the wolf puts on the sheep’s skin till he gains admission into the fold.’ That their original charge against the Protestant doctrine as a ‘novelty,’ and their subsequent claim to it as the ‘old doctrine’ of the Church, could not both be true, is evident, for they are manifestly contradictory; and it might seem incredible that they could have been adopted by the same parties in good faith. In the minds of some, there might have grown up a clearer perception of the Protestant doctrine and of its scriptural evidence than they had before the Reformation,—as in the case of Bishop Vergerio, who was converted in attempting to refute it,—of Cardinal Cajetan, whose commentary on the Epistle to the Romans bears traces of his having learned something from his conferences with Luther,—and even of the Emperor himself, of whom it has been said that, ‘as he drew near his end, and was more deeply impressed with the awful thought of appearing before the divine tribunal, he approximated more and more to some of the leading doctrines of Luther, and particularly that of Justification by faith.’ (8) In the case of others, there might be a change of policy and profession, where there was no corresponding conviction of the truth; and this seems to be the true explanation of the conduct which was pursued by the chief Popish agents at Ratisbon; for Melancthon, speaking of Eckius, complained of his ‘sophisms and juggling tricks,’ and said, ‘He sports with terms of the most serious import,—continually conceals his real meaning, and only aims to embarrass an adversary. There is great danger in encountering sycophants of this kind.’ And Bucer, speaking of Gropper, who afterwards wrote against the very doctrine which he had professed to receive, and actively promoted the deposition of the venerable reforming Archbishop of Cologne, affirmed that ‘Gropper either sincerely assented to the Evangelical doctrine, or with solemn asseverations protested it.’ (9) Whether it proceeded from conviction or from policy, there was a striking change at this date in the treatment which the Romish Church bestowed on the Protestant doctrine of Justification; a change so great as to warrant the distinction, which still exists, between OLD and NEW Popery.
We learn another lesson from what occurred at the Diet of Ratisbon. It shows the possibility of appearing to concede almost everything, while one point is reserved, or wrapped up in ambiguous language, which is found afterwards sufficient to neutralize every concession, and to leave the parties as much at variance as before. It has been justly said that, in controversies of faith, the difference between antagonist systems is often reduced to a line sharp as a razor’s edge, yet on one side of that line there is God’s truth, and on the other a departure from it. (10) At Ratisbon, the difference between the Popish and Protestant doctrines of Justification seemed to resolve itself into one point, and even on that point both parties held some views in common. It might seem, then, that there was no radical or irreconcilable difference between the two; and yet, when they came to explain their respective views, it was found that they were contending for two opposite methods of Justification,—the one by an inherent, the other by an imputed, righteousness,—the one by the personal obedience of the believer, the other by the vicarious obedience of Christ,—the one by the inchoate and imperfect work of the Spirit in men, the other by the finished work of Christ for them, when ‘He became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.’ This fact shows the utter folly of every attempt to reconcile two systems, which are radically opposed, by means of a compromise between them; and the great danger of engaging in private conferences with a view to that end. In the open field of controversy, truth, so far from being endangered, is ventilated, cleared, and defined; in the secret conclaves of divines, and the cabinets of princes, it is often smothered, or silenced. It has far less to fear from discussion, than from diplomacy. There can be no honest compromise between the Popish and the Protestant doctrine of Justification,—the one is at direct variance with the other, not in respect of verbal expression merely, but in respect of their fundamental principles,—and any settlement, on the basis of mutual concession, could only be made by means of ambiguous expressions, and could amount to nothing more than a hollow truce, liable to be broken by either party as soon as the subject was brought again into serious discussion. This was the abortive result of the apparent agreement at Ratisbon; it settled no question,—it satisfied no party,—and it led afterwards to much misunderstanding and mutual recrimination. ‘Let them go on,’ said Luther, referring to the schemes of those who thought that the differences between Roman Catholics and Protestants might be made up by such conferences, ‘we shall not envy the success of their labours: they will be the first who could ever convert the devil and reconcile him to Christ …. The sceptre of the Lord admits of no bending and joining; but must remain straight and unchanged, the rule of faith and practice.’
The double policy of the Romish Church, so strikingly exhibited at Ratisbon,—in first rejecting the Protestant doctrine of Justification as an unauthorized and dangerous ‘novelty,’ and afterwards claiming it, in their own sense, as a truth which they had always held and taught,—was pursued in several successive diets of the Empire. At length, finding it impossible either to convince or to concuss the Reformers, the Emperor published his scheme, known as the ‘Interim,’ which was so called because it was to remain in force only till the convocation of a general council, and was designed, at least ostensibly, to preserve, till then, the status quo between the contending parties. It contained a statement of doctrine, framed on the model of Gropper’s book, and in accordance generally with the creed of the Romish Church; but expressed ‘in the softest words, or in scriptural phrases, or in terms of studied ambiguity.’ Bucer refused to subscribe it at the peril of his life; and Melancthon was so decidedly opposed to it, that the Emperor ordered his person to be seized, and he escaped only through the protection of the Elector. It proved a signal failure, like every other attempt at compromise between systems which were essentially opposed; and at length, the Council which had been demanded, not less by the princes of the Empire, for the reformation of the Church, than by the Protestants, for the discussion of doctrine, was reluctantly summoned by the Pope to assemble at Trent.
The Council first met in 1545, and was continued, with frequent, and often long, adjournments, till 1563—a period of eighteen years; but its actual sessions occupied only four years; and of these no less than seven months were devoted to the question of Justification. Their deliberations on this subject were held in their sixth session, 1547, and resulted in sixteen decrees, setting forth the doctrine of the Church, and thirty-three canons, denouncing the errors which are opposed to it. (11) The latter are much more explicit and decided than the former; and the anathemas, which are launched against what were supposed to be Protestant doctrines, are much more vigorous than the statements, which are made in support of their own. They seem, indeed, to have been much perplexed in dealing with the subject. It was felt to be singularly important, as all the errors of Luther resolved themselves into his doctrine concerning it; and also singularly difficult, since Justification by faith was regarded by many as a doctrine which had never been thought of by any School-writer, and therefore never discussed or confuted before. (12) But while some treated it as a ‘novelty,’ there were others even in the Council of Trent who were not prepared to reject it on that ground. Hence the decrees, which are devoted to the exposition of the Catholic faith on this important subject, were purposely, and perhaps unavoidably, expressed in vague and ambiguous terms; for they were prepared at a time when scriptural views had been widely disseminated in all the countries of Europe, and in the presence also of many members of the Council itself, who had either been impressed by these views, or had inherited doctrines of a similar import from the founders of the Religious Orders to which they respectively belonged. Different opinions were openly avowed by the Dominicans, Franciscans, and Augustinians. Soto insisted on the difference between faith and works,—or the Gospel and the Law,—showing that these terms denoted, not a difference of dispensation merely under the Old and New Testament, but a more fundamental difference between two methods of acceptance with God; Marinarus held the forensic sense of the term Justification, and objected to the Popish doctrine of ‘faith informed with charity;’ Pighius and Vega admitted the imputed righteousness of Christ; and the Bishop of Cava was favourable to the doctrine of Justification by faith only. Amidst such a diversity of opinion within the Council itself, it was necessary, if the concurrence of all parties was to be secured, to draw up the decrees, which embodied a statement of their own doctrine, in vague and somewhat ambiguous terms, which every one might interpret in favour of his own views; and accordingly, no sooner had they been published, than Soto, a Dominican, and Vega, a Franciscan, produced in 1548 contradictory comments on their real meaning. But besides being a vague and ambiguous statement of the opinions of those who sat in the Council, they were very far from being an accurate representation of the doctrine which was then generally taught by the priests, and as generally believed by the members, of the Romish Church. They did not contain a full and frank exposition, or profess to offer an honest and manly defence, of many opinions and practices which were known to prevail universally, except where they had been checked and counteracted by the Reformers; and which had a most important bearing on the great question of a sinner’s justification in the sight of God. It has been admitted even by those who take a favourable view of the Church of Rome, that her practical system is in many respects much worse than the decrees of the Council of Trent. (13)
But vague and ambiguous as is the language of some of these decrees, they are sufficiently explicit to show that, while their framers professed to acknowledge the grace of God, and the merits of Christ, as necessarily implied in the doctrine of Justification, they still adhered to the radical principles of the Popish system, by which it has always been distinguished from that of the Reformers. These principles are not presented, indeed, so obtrusively, or expressed in such offensive language, as they have often been in the writings of Romish controversialists; but they are there, although coloured and disguised by some evangelical expressions. Both Calvin, in his ‘Antidote,’ and Chemnitz, in his ‘Examination,’ have noticed some statements in these Decrees which make a near approach to the true doctrine of Justification; but have also shown that these seeming concessions to the force of truth are effectually neutralized by other erroneous principles, and that the resulting product is an amalgam of some truth mixed with much error, such as is fitted to be deeply injurious to the souls of men. The earlier Decrees speak much of the grace of God, and the merits of Christ; but as they advance, they ascribe as much to man and his free-will, and end in ascribing justification partly to grace, and partly to works. They come very near to a scriptural statement of Justification, when they speak of it as a change in man’s relation to God, by which he who was a child of wrath is forgiven and accepted, through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus; but they immediately confound it with the renovation of his nature, and make it to depend upon an infused and inherent habit of grace as its immediate and proper ground. (14)
It is the more important to bear these remarks in mind, because some recent writers, founding on the cautious and guarded statements of the Council on the subject of Merit, and their references to the sufferings and death of Christ as the ultimate procuring cause of salvation, have endeavoured to show that the authorized doctrine of the Romish Church has been misunderstood or misrepresented by Protestants, and that there is much less difference than is usually supposed between the canons of Trent and the creeds of the Reformed. It is thus made to assume, at least in Protestant countries, a very plausible and harmless aspect; while the radical error, which lies at the foundation of the whole Popish doctrine, and which is incorporated with the decrees of the Council, is carefully covered up and kept out of view. The last of the sixteen chapters, which are devoted to the subject of Justification, contains a summary statement of that doctrine, which amounts in substance to this,—that the righteousness, by which we are justified, is a righteousness infused and inherent; that it is called our own righteousness, because it is inherent in us,—and that it is also called the righteousness of God, because it is infused by Him. This is the radical error; for the whole question between the Popish and Protestant Churches lies here: Are we justified by our own righteousness, or by the righteousness of Christ? by a righteousness infused and inherent, or by a righteousness imputed, which is not in us, but in Him?
In this sense, their doctrine was understood and defended by their ablest controversial writers,—such as Andradius, Bellarmine, Vasquez, and Osorio. These writers adhered to the old doctrine of the Church. Andradius was answered by Chemnitz, Bellarmine by Amesius, Bishop Downham, Bishop Davenant and many more; Vasquez’s extreme views on the subject of Merit are exposed by Archbishop Wake in his ‘Exposition’ and ‘Defence;’ and Osorio was ably met by John Foxe, the Martyrologist. But another class of writers advocated a diluted and disguised doctrine, which may be called New Popery, as distinguished from the Old, and which had its origin after the Reformation. For the double policy of Rome, in alternately denouncing the Protestant doctrine as a dangerous novelty, and claiming it, in her own sense of it, as a truth which she had always taught, continued to be pursued by two classes of writers within her pale,—the one representing Old Popery, such as it was before the Reformation,—the other New Popery, or Popery transformed, if not reformed, and appearing now as if it were an angel of light. ‘Let any one compare,’ says Bishop Atterbury, ‘Bellarmine’s bold truths with the softenings of the Bishop of Condom, … and it will appear that Old Popery and New Popery agree no more than the two Styles.’ (15) Old Popery was still taught in Roman Catholic countries, such as Spain, Italy, Austria, and Mexico; while the New was specially intended for Catholics living in Protestant communities, such as those in France, England, Germany, and America, where the Bible was generally read and valued. But it is a still more instructive fact, that even in Protestant countries, the priesthood have made use of two distinct sets of books,—the one containing Old Popery undiluted, and consisting of catechisms and books of devotion,—such as ‘The Sacred Heart of Jesus,’ or ‘The Angelical Exercise,’ designed for the edification of the ruder part of their flocks;—the other intended for the better educated class of their own communion, but still more, perhaps, for their Protestant neighbours, in which all the grosser features of Popery are concealed, or softened down, or coloured over, and all its distinctive doctrines kept in the background, or explained away. (16) At a much earlier period, they were so ready to disclaim both the old doctrines and the old practices of their Church, that Luther found it expedient to publish an account of the ‘Conformities of St. Francis,’ that ‘it might not be forgotten what things had really been taught under the Papacy;’ and more recently, our acute brethren the Protestants in America have reprinted, at their own expense, the Rhemish New Testament, as a necessary means of self-defence, against the plausible pretences of modern Catholicism. (17)
In pursuance of the same policy, attempts were made, by writers on both sides, to harmonize even the symbolical books of the two Churches, and to show that there is no real, or at least no radical, difference between them on the momentous subject of a sinner’s justification before God. We find Soto and Vega, who were both active members of the Council of Trent, explaining the Decrees, the one in favour of the Dominican, the other in favour of the Franciscan doctrine; but this was a question between two orders within the bosom of the Church itself. Afterwards we find Dezius, a Jesuit of Strasburg, publishing a work on express purpose to prove that there was little or no difference between the Decrees of Trent and the Confession of Augsburg; and this with a view to the reunion of the Protestants at Strasburg with the Church of Rome. (18) Many others, who are mentioned by Mosheim, made a similar attempt; but the most influential were Bossuet, in France, and Davenport, or Francis à Sancta Clara, in England. Bossuet attempted to bring back the Protestants of France to the pale of the Romish Church by his ‘History of the Variations of the Protestant Churches,’ and his ‘Exposition of Catholic Doctrine,’ in which he made it his object to show, that the Protestants differed as widely from one another as they did from the Popish creed; and this he could only do by explaining away all that was peculiar and distinctive in the doctrine of Trent, as compared with that of the catechisms and confessions of the Reformed. (19) Notwithstanding the array of official ‘approbations’ which were prefixed to it, his ‘Exposition’ never commanded the confidence of the more honest members of his own Church; it has been much more lauded by ill-informed Protestants than by stanch Romanists; and it was characterized by the divines of Louvaine as ‘scandalous and pernicious.’ Dr. Davenport, or Francis à Sancta, who was himself an English convert to Romanism, and confessor to the queen of Charles I., published a work containing an elaborate attempt to show that the Articles of the Church of England might be interpreted in a sense which would bring them into entire accordance with the doctrine of Rome, and that in that sense they might be subscribed by men holding the Popish faith. (20) To this work further reference will be made in connection with the history of the doctrine in the Church of England.
The work which has exercised, perhaps, the strongest influence, in modern times, on the minds of educated men, both on the continent and in this country, in disposing them to think more favourably of Popish doctrine than the Reformers did, is the plausible and elaborate treatise of Moehler on ‘Symbolism.’ He has been justly described as ‘the most skilful and accomplished defender of Popery in the present century,’ and his work exhibits, as its title imports, a comparative view of the symbolical books of the Romish and Protestant Churches, in which their respective doctrines on most of the leading topics in Theology are stated and discussed. In the earlier editions of it, he proceeded on the assumption that the Decrees and Canons of the Council of Trent are the only authoritative standards of the Romish Church; but afterwards admitted that there were other decisions which were equally binding, and more explicit on some points of faith, such as the Bulls by which the Popes condemned the doctrines of Baius, of Jansenius, and of Quesnel. These Bulls are important, as authoritative decisions on some points which are more vaguely set forth by the Fathers of Trent. His leading design was to explain ‘the doctrinal differences between Catholics and Protestants,’ and to set them in such a light as should be most favourable to the doctrines of his own Church. On the subject of Justification he enlarges at considerable length, but connects it throughout with what may be regarded as his fundamental doctrine,—that of original righteousness as a supernatural gift, and of original sin as the forfeiture of that gift, with the consequences which such forfeiture naturally produced, and necessarily entailed. Setting out from this starting-point, he assumes that the nature of the remedy must be adapted to, and may be determined by, the nature of the evil that is to be redressed by it; and as that evil, in his view of it, was a subjective one—a defect or a disorder in man’s moral nature—it could only be remedied by a subjective moral change,—in other words, by the restoration through grace of that original righteousness which was bestowed on man as a supernatural gift after his creation, but which was forfeited and withdrawn at his fall; and thus he reaches his goal, and concludes in favour of a ‘moral,’ as distinguished from a ‘forensic,’ Justification. The radical error of his doctrine, both on the subject of sin and of salvation, may be said to be essentially the same, and to proceed from one and the same cause: it consists,—on the subject of sin,—in regarding it simply as a subjective moral evil, vitiating the character and destroying the happiness of men, without taking duly into account its guilt and demerit as an offence against God, which provoked His wrath and incurred His condemnation; and,—on the subject of salvation,—it consists, in like manner, in regarding it simply as a subjective moral remedy, renewing the character, and thereby restoring the happiness, of men, without taking duly into account the provision which was necessary for the pardon and acceptance of a guilty and condemned sinner as righteous in the sight of God. In the one case, the consideration of man’s guilt gives place to that of his depravity; in the other, the consideration of his pardon and acceptance gives place to that of his renovation; and in both cases alike, the error proceeds from overlooking, or making little account of, man’s judicial relation to God. (21)
Moehler’s ‘Symbolism’ was claimed by Dr. Newman as an authority in favour of the principle, which he announced in his ‘Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine.’ That essay was an elaborate attempt to account for the ‘Variations’ which history shows to have occurred both in the doctrines, and practices, of the Romish Church. He shows that, in order to meet the Protestant allegation, that corruptions had gradually crept in after the Apostolic age, the defenders of that Church had successively depended on the ‘common consent’ of the first three or four centuries, proceeding on Vincent’s rule (‘quod semper, quod ubique, et quod ab omnibus’) as a sufficient test of Catholicity,—and when that failed, or was found difficult in its application, on the ‘doctrine of reserve’ (the ‘disciplina arcani’), which implied that there existed from the beginning an esoteric, as well as an exoteric, doctrine in the Church. He sets aside these old defences, as being untenable in themselves, as well as insufficient to account for the facts which modern history has established; and he betakes himself to this third ground—of a developing power always existing in the Church. His theory was broached immediately before his admission into the Church of Rome, but has found little favour with her authorities. It was openly rejected by many, and merely tolerated by others. The older defences are still held to be sufficient, and the novel theory is regarded with doubt and distrust. (22) The old doctrine of the Church is still taught, in substance, in her Theological Colleges,—and embodied in those works which have been specially prepared for the education of the priesthood. (23)
Many attempts have been made to show that the difference between the Romish and the Reformed Churches, on the subject of Justification, is not vital or fundamental; and that it is of so little importance as to present no insuperable obstacle to their reunion, were certain other corruptions in the Popish system removed. It has been thought that intelligent men, selected from either side, might find, by means of mutual explanation, and, perhaps, of mutual concession, a common ground of agreement. Le Blanc, in a former age, did what he could to reduce the difference between them to its minimum (24); and several sanguine men have, at various times, entered into correspondence and negotiation with a view to effect an adjustment, while others, in the present age, are earnestly labouring for the same end. But all such attempts have signally failed. Wake’s correspondence with Du Pin, and the negotiations of Leibnitz and Grotius, proved equally abortive. Even within the Church of Rome itself, the history of Baius, Jansenius, Quesnel, Martin Boos, and many more, is sufficient to show that the doctrine of free efficacious Grace, although taught by Augustine and others, can scarcely be tolerated, when it is openly proclaimed, and faithfully applied; for they were all persecuted, and their doctrines suppressed. (25) No one who thoroughly understands and firmly adheres either to the Romish or the Reformed doctrine, can honestly propose a compromise between the two. Such a proposal can only be made or entertained by those who have a very inadequate sense of the difference which separates the one from the other. That difference is radical and fundamental, and involves, on some important points, a direct contradiction. It is not a difference of degree, as if the same doctrine were only more or less clearly stated, or exhibited in different shades of colour; it is a difference of kind, which becomes only the more marked in proportion as each of them is placed in a clearer and stronger light. It is true that the Church of Rome has always held some important doctrines of Scripture, and that these, applied by the Spirit of God, may have produced in some within her pale saving conversion to God; but it is equally true, that the whole subject of the method and ground of a sinner’s justification has been so obscured and corrupted by her teaching, that in proportion as men became thoroughly imbued with her peculiar lessons, they were just so much the less likely to have recourse to Christ alone for salvation. (26)
Do we then deny the possibility of pardon and acceptance with God within the Church of Rome? God forbid! What we deny is, that any sinner was ever justified, there or elsewhere, by his own righteousness; and we reject the Romish doctrine of Justification, as having a tendency to lead men to rely on their own good works, rather than on the finished work of Christ. We rejoice to know and believe, that some members of that Church may, like Martin Boos, renounce their own righteousness, and take refuge in Christ alone. This was the declared belief of Luther himself; for as our Lord said to the Scribes and Pharisees of old, ‘Verily I say unto you, that the publicans and harlots go into the kingdom of God before you,’ so Luther said to the Religious Orders of his times: ‘If no flesh be justified by the works of the law of God, much less shall any be justified by the rule of Benedict, Francis, or Augustine, in the which there is not one jot of true faith in Christ….. But some there were whom God called by the text of the Gospel and by baptism. These walked in simplicity, and humbleness of heart, thinking the monks and friars, and such only as were anointed of the bishops, to be religious and holy, and themselves to be profane and secular, and not worthy to be compared to them. Wherefore, they finding in themselves no good works, to set against the wrath and judgment of God, did fly to the death and passion of Christ, and were saved in this simplicity.’