Calvin Synod Herald, 1984 (84. évfolyam, 1-6. szám)
1984-04-01 / 2. szám
CALVIN SYNOD HERALD — 7 — REFORMÁTUSOK LAPJA banded together for a deadly war upon the Protestants, the Evangelical Church stood as a divided house. The Landgrave knew that an effective Protestant political coalition for the defense of truth and freedom of conscience could only be established if the two major doctrinal parties, the Lutheran and the Swiss Reformed, were first united with each other. Thus he entertained a grand dream and a mighty vision in his soul: to reconcile the opposing theological views of Luther and Zwingli, and so to bring about a united front against the common enemy at a time when they were fearfully threatened. “Hoc est corpus meum!” said a harsh voice (this is my body) from inside the great hall. “Abiit ergo et non est hie!” came the reply with similar strength. The Landgrave instinctively turned his face away towards the mountain range as one whose ideal dream had been cruelly frustrated, and whose wondrous vision had been destroyed by the hand of cursed reality. “This is my body; this is my blood!” echoed Luther’s voice from inside the immense hall out to the balcony. “This signifies the body! . . . This signifies the blood!” came Zwingli’s harsh answer promptly, floating through the air to the Landgrave’s ears. Then a red-faced man with a long beard appeared on the balcony behind the Landgrave, dressed in a long black habit lined with white fur with chains of jewels around his neck: Duke Ulrich of Wuertemberg. “No hope, my gracious Lord!” said the duke sternly, drawing nearer to the Landgrave. “Not even so great a prince as you are with all your political genius, care, and influence, will ever be able to reconcile these two opposing parties.” “The tragedy of tragedies!” exclaimed the Landgrave deeply agitated. “The house is burning overhead! The enemies of Truth and Light are on the march against us. And they are indulging themselves in debating delicate theological wordings. The mighty foe is on the go against us, and here we are chewing on words and symbols: this is, or this is not!... this signifies, or this signifies not!” “Pity for all the trouble you have taken and all the expenses to bring all the great divines of both parties together. And here they are, all leading Lutheran and Swiss theologians, sitting in colloquy for three days and being entertained by you royally in your palace. And all your tireless efforts are in vain!" “Exactly what I had been afraid of, has happened!” burst out the Landgrave with increasing violence. “Luther hardened himself like a rock. He wants union but only by the acceptance of all his opinions without the least of change.” “It is most unfortunate that Carlstadt had left him and joined the Swiss on account of some difference in the sacramental interpretation. He feels bitter against the Swiss reformers.” “Yes, and his bitterness is increased by the fact that scores of his own pastors are inclined to accept Zwingli’s doctrine of the sacrament.” “Zwingli’s more complete break with Romanism appeals more even to many of the pastors in the Lutheran rank.” “He surely is more of a breaker of idols. He cast out all altars, images, and relics of his Zurich cathedral.” “He became a great religious and social power among the Swiss.” “Just this year in six Swiss cantons out of the thirteen his reformed movement has become the established church. Still we cannot bring Luther into cooperation with him on account of this sacramental difference.” “How different these two reformers are!” went on Duke Ulrich nervously. “Zwingli would cooperate with Luther in spite of theological differences, but Luther would not, and will not.” “Zwingli’s views are more advanced. He is a humanist. He is more a man of this world,” explained the Landgrave. “He has a much broader horizon. He has political, even military sense. He knows that only a political alliance and armed resistance can secure a permanent place in Europe for our Protestantism. Oh I wish I could make our Luther see that too!” “Our Luther is too conservative for that, and deep in his heart he still is a monk. He has no political insight and he is opposed to all form of armed resistance.” “This man Zwingli, though he is too much of a republican, and even refuses to salute me with my titles, still is the man according to my heart!” exclaimed the Landgrave emphatically. “He was brave and frank enough to tell me to my face, that I am ‘high born’ in comparison to the world and flesh, but before God I am mean. And I presume he is right. Then he said: ‘serene’ is a word which is only applicable to glass windows. Those are transparent, but not men! Is he not witty?” The Landgrave was smiling, but the Duke was stern and embarrassed. “Well, I still like him!” said the Landgrave. “Let’s go back to our theologians and see my beautiful dream frustrated and my great plan gone to pieces.” Then they re-entered the large Gothic hall again to rejoin the climatic finale of the three days’-long violent debate. The Landgrave sank into his high armchair in the middle. The Duke of Wuertemberg placed himself on his left. Behind him were standing and sitting a number of select of noble guests, many of them subscribers of the grand Protestation of Spire. In front of the prince there was a large square oaken table, covered with a heavy, deep colored Persian rug that served as a tablecloth. On it was a heavy iron crucifix with the wax body of Christ. On the other side of the table, facing the prince, the two contestants stood, engaged in violent debating: Luther, in a long black robe edged with fur with his right hand pointing to the Biblical words he had placed on the table before him, so that he could not divert himself from, “This is my body!”; Zwingli seven weeks Luther’s junior, with his shaven face, and statuesque profile, dressed in a high-collared black gown, one hand resting on his heart, the other pointing up to heaven. On Luther’s right were Melanchthon, Jonas, and Cruciger in the gown of the Wittenbergers; on Zwingli’s left, Ockolompadius, Bucer, and Hedio in the gown of the Swiss reformers. Behind the contestants, under the delicate Gothic curves of the beautifullydesigned pillars of the darkly wainscotted hall, was an illustrious assemblage of some fifty or sixty scholars, theologians and notables. The theological phrases of the two contestants thundered to and fro with ever-increasing violence and ever-decreasing hope for any reconciliation: “This is my body! It means true and real presence.” “This signifies or represents my body! It means spiritual presence.” “The text is literal!” “The text is figurative!” “The text is too powerful for me, and will not permit its meaning to be changed by words.” “But the text is metaphorical and spiritual, and its meaning is changed if you cling to the words!” “I am a prisoner of this text, and I cannot escape it!” “You are the prisoner of words you have placed before you!” “Though the bread and the wine do not change, yet Christ’s presence is real and true.” “Your new doctrine, consubstantiation, is too near to the Popish transubstantiation.” “Christ must be present in body, in flesh!” “Don’t you know Christ’s own sentence: ‘the flesh profiteth nothing ... it is the spirit that giveth life . . . the words that I have spoken unto you are spirit, and are life’. Read the sixth chapter of John, and there you will find the true doctrine of Communion.” “In the sacrament of the altar, Christ is present with his body.”
