Note 4 — EXPLANATIONS—REMARKS—ILLUSTRATIVE CITATIONS. (continued 2)

Faith has within it a malignant principle. Christian faith, and nothing else, is the ultimate ground of Christian persecution and destruction of heretics. Faith recognises man only on condition that he recognises God, i.e., faith itself. Faith is the honour which man renders to God. And this honour is due unconditionally. To faith the basis of all duties is faith in God: faith is the absolute duty; duties to men are only derivative, subordinate. The unbeliever is thus an outlaw4—a man worthy of extermination. That which denies God must be itself denied. The highest crime is the crime laesae majestatis Dei. To faith God is a personal being—the supremely personal, inviolable, privileged being. The acme of personality is honour; hence an injury towards the highest personality is necessarily the highest crime. The honour of God cannot be disavowed as an accidental, rude, anthropomorphic conception. For is not the personality, even the existence of God, a sensuous, anthropomorphic conception? Let those who renounce the honour be consistent enough to renounce the personality. From the idea of personality results the idea of honour, and from this again the idea of religious offences. “Quicunque Magistratibus male precatus fuerit, pro eorum arbitrio poenas luito; quicunque vero idem scelus erga Deum admiserit ... lapidibus blasphemiae causa obruitur.”—(Lev. xxiv. 15, 16. See also Deut. xii., whence the Catholics deduce the right to kill heretics. Boehmer, l. c. l. v. Th. vii. § 44.) “Eos autem merito torqueri, qui Deum nesciunt, ut impios, ut injustos, nisi profanus nemo deliberat: quum parentem omnium et dominum omnium non minus sceleris sit ignorare, quam laedere.”—Minucii Fel. Oct. c. 35. “Ubi erunt legis praecepta divinae, quae dicunt: honora patrem et matrem, si vocabulum patris, quod in homine honorari praecipitur, in Deo impune violatur?”—Cypriani Epist. 73 (ed. Gersdorf). “Cur enim, cum datum sit divinitus homini liberum arbitrium, adulteria legibus puniantur et sacrilegia permittantur? An fidem non servare levius est animam Deo, quam feminam viro?”—Augustinus (de Correct. Donatist. lib. ad Bonifacium, c. 5). “Si hi qui nummos adulterant morte mulctantur, quid de illis statuendum censemus, qui fidem pervertere conantur?”—Paulus Cortesius (in Sententias (Petri L.) iii. l. dist. vii.). “Si enim illustrem ac praepotentem virum nequaquam exhonorari a quoquam licet, et si quisquam exhonoraverit, decretis legalibus reus sistitur et injuriarum auctor jure damnatur: quanto utique majoris piaculi crimen est, injuriosum quempiam Deo esse? Semper enim per dignitatem injuriam perferentis crescit culpa facientis, quia necesse est, quanto major est persona ejus qui contumeliam patitur, tanto major sit noxa ejus, qui facit.” Thus speaks Salvianus (de Gubernat. Dei, l. vi. p. 218, edit. cit.)—Salvianus, who is called Magistrum Episcoporum, sui saeculi Jeremiam, Scriptorem Christianissimum, Orbis christiani magistrum. But heresy, unbelief in general—heresy is only a definite, limited unbelief—is blasphemy, and thus is the highest, the most flagitious crime. Thus to cite only one among innumerable examples, J. Oecolampadius writes to Servetus: “Dum non summam patientiam prae me fero, dolens Jesum Christum filium Dei sic dehonestari, parum christiane tibi agere videor. In aliis mansuetus ero: in blasphemiis quae in Christum, non item.”—(Historia Mich. Serveti. H. ab Allwoerden Helmstadii, 1737, p. 13). For what is blasphemy? Every negation of an idea, of a definition, in which the honour of God, the honour of faith is concerned. Servetus fell as a sacrifice to Christian faith. Calvin said to Servetus two hours before his death: “Ego vero ingenue praefatus, me nunquam privatus injurias fuisse persecutum,” and parted from him with a sense of being thoroughly sustained by the Bible: “Ab haeretico homine, qui αὐτοκατάκριτος peccabat, secundum Pauli praeceptum discessi.”—(Ibid. p. 120.) Thus it was by no means a personal hatred, though this may have been conjoined,—it was a religious hatred which brought Servetus to the stake—the hatred which springs from the nature of unchecked faith. Even Melancthon is known to have approved the execution of Servetus. The Swiss theologians, whose opinion was asked by the Genevans, very subtilely abstained, in their answer, from mentioning the punishment of death,5 but agreed with the Genevans in this—“Horrendos Serveti errores detestandos esse, severiusque idcirco in Servetum animadvertendum.” Thus there is no difference as to the principle, only as to the mode of punishment. Even Calvin himself was so Christian as to desire to alleviate the horrible mode of death to which the Senate of Geneva condemned Servetus. (See on this subject, e.g., M. Adami, Vita Calvini, p. 90; Vita Bezae, p. 207; Vitae Theol. Exter. Francof. 1618.) We have, therefore, to consider this execution as an act of general significance—as a work of faith, and that not of Roman Catholic, but of reformed, biblical, evangelical faith. That heretics must not be compelled to a profession of the faith by force was certainly maintained by most of the lights of the Church, but there nevertheless lived in them the most malignant hatred of heretics. Thus, for example, St. Bernard says (Super Cantica, § 66) in relation to heretics: “Fides suadenda est, non imponenda,” but he immediately adds: “Quamquam melius procul dubio gladio coercerentur, illius videlicet, qui non sine causa gladium portat, quam in suum errorem multos trajicere permittantur.” If the faith of the present day no longer produces such flagrant deeds of horror, this is due only to the fact that the faith of this age is not an uncompromising, living faith, but a sceptical, eclectic, unbelieving faith, curtailed and maimed by the power of art and science. Where heretics are no longer burned either in the fires of this world or of the other, there faith itself has no longer any fire, any vitality. The faith which allows variety of belief renounces its divine origin and rank, degrades itself to a subjective opinion. It is not to Christian faith, not to Christian love (i.e., love limited by faith); no! it is to doubt of Christian faith, to the victory of religious scepticism, to free-thinkers, to heretics, that we owe tolerance, freedom of opinion. It was the heretics, persecuted by the Christian Church, who alone fought for freedom of conscience. Christian freedom is freedom in non-essentials only: on the fundamental articles of faith freedom is not allowed. When, however, Christian faith—faith considered in distinction from love, for faith is not one with love, “potestis habere fidem sine caritate” (Augustinus, Serm. ad Pop. § 90)—is pronounced to be the principle, the ultimate ground of the violent deeds of Christians towards heretics (that is, such deeds as arose from real believing zeal), it is obviously not meant that faith could have these consequences immediately and originally, but only in its historical development. Still, even to the earliest Christians the heretic was an antichrist, and necessarily so—“adversus Christum sunt haeretici” (Cyprianus, Epist. 76, § 14, edit. cit.)—accursed—“apostoli ... in epistolis haereticos exsecrati sunt” (Cyprianus, ib. § 6)—a lost being, doomed by God to hell and everlasting death. “Thou hearest that the tares are already condemned and sentenced to the fire. Why then wilt thou lay many sufferings on a heretic? Dost thou not hear that he is already judged to a punishment heavier than he can bear? Who art thou, that thou wilt interfere and punish him who has already fallen under the punishment of a more powerful master? What would I do against a thief already sentenced to the gallows?... God has already commanded his angels, who in his own time will be the executioners of heretics.”—Luther (Th. xvi. p. 132). When therefore the State, the world, became Christian, and also, for that reason, Christianity became worldly, the Christian religion a State religion; then it was a necessary consequence that the condemnation of heretics, which was at first only religious or dogmatic, became a political, practical condemnation, and the eternal punishment of hell was anticipated by temporal punishment. If, therefore, the definition and treatment of heresy as a punishable crime is in contradiction with the Christian faith, it follows that a Christian king, a Christian State, is in contradiction with it; for a Christian State is that which executes the Divine judgments of faith with the sword, which makes earth a heaven to believers, a hell to unbelievers. “Docuimus ... pertinere ad reges religiosos, non solum adulteria vel homicidia vel hujusmodi alia flagitia seu facinora, verum etiam sacrilegia severitate congrua cohibere.”—Augustinus (Epist. ad Dulcitium). “Kings ought thus to serve the Lord Christ by helping with laws that his honour be furthered. Now when the temporal magistracy finds scandalous errors, whereby the honour of the Lord Christ is blasphemed and men’s salvation hindered, and a schism arises among the people ... where such false teachers will not be admonished and cease from preaching, there ought the temporal magistracy confidently to arm itself, and know that nothing else befits its office but to apply the sword and all force, that doctrine may be pure and God’s service genuine and unperverted, and also that peace and unity may be preserved.”—Luther (Th. xv. pp. 110, 111). Let it be further remarked here, that Augustine justifies the application of coercive measures for the awaking of Christian faith by urging that the Apostle Paul was converted to Christianity by a deed of force—a miracle. (De Correct. Donat. c. 6.) The intrinsic connection between temporal and eternal, i.e., political and spiritual punishment, is clear from this, that the same reasons which have been urged against the temporal punishment of heresy are equally valid against the punishment of hell. If heresy or unbelief cannot be punished here because it is a mere mistake, neither can it be punished by God in hell. If coercion is in contradiction with the nature of faith, so is hell; for the fear of the terrible consequence of unbelief, the torments of hell, urge to belief against knowledge and will. Boehmer, in his Jus. Eccl., argues that heresy and unbelief should be struck out of the category of crimes, that unbelief is only a vitium theologicum, a peccatum in Deum. But God, in the view of faith, is not only a religious, but a political, juridical being, the King of kings, the true head of the State. “There is no power but of God ... it is the minister of God”—Rom. xiii. 1, 4. If, therefore, the juridical idea of majesty, of kingly dignity and honour, applies to God, sin against God, unbelief, must by consequence come under the definition of crime. And as with God, so with faith. Where faith is still a truth, and a public truth, there no doubt is entertained that it can be demanded of every one, that every one is bound to believe. Be it further observed, that the Christian Church has gone so far in its hatred against heretics, that according to the canon law even the suspicion of heresy is a crime, “ita ut de jure canonico revera crimen suspecti detur, cujus existentiam frustra in jure civili quaerimus.”—Boehmer (l. c. v. Tit. vii. §§ 23–42).