A Few Words About John Huss

IN the year 1404 two Englishmen visited the city of Prague. They had come from their own land to endeavor to spread Christ's Gospel in Bohemia. Once Bohemia rejoiced in much Gospel truth; but when the Pope Hildebrand, in 1079, gave his "dear son," the King of Bohemia, direction to forbid the reading of the Bible in the tongue of the people, darkness began to set in and persecutions to arise over the land. The Pope stated that, after a long study of the Word of God, he found that the Almighty was pleased that His worship should be celebrated in a tongue unknown to the people, and that many evils and heresies had arisen from the non-observance of this rule. The Pope was wise, we all can allow, since his Church and the Bible cannot live together, any more than he can live and thrive in the presence of God and His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. These Englishmen began their work by public disputations on the Pope's supremacy; but this was soon forbidden by the authorities. Then they thought of another plan of work. They were artists as well as theologians; and they portrayed on the corridor of their host's house two pictures—one of Jesus entering Jerusalem, meek and lowly, riding upon an ass; and, opposite to it, one of the Pope, with his triple crown and bejeweled golden robes, sitting upon his horse, heralded by trumpeters and followed by cardinals and bishops in their bright clothing. These pictures attracted so many visitors and preached so eloquent a sermon, that the two Oxford graduates had to escape.
Amongst the many who came to see the two pictures was John Huss, whose name is inscribed in letters of glory upon the crimson banner of the martyrs for our Lord Jesus Christ. John Huss lived in a strange time in the religious world. Three Popes fought with each other for the Papal throne. Thoughtful men asked, which of the three should be obeyed, and were puzzled how it could happen that the three, being infallible, could not distinguish which of them was the real Holy Father. One Pope said that the other was "a heretic, a demon, the Antichrist," and the two described the third as "an impostor and schismatic," while the third stigmatized the other two in equally vigorous terms. The evil lives of these men shall not now occupy us; but we cannot forget that, even during the period of agitation which filled Western Christendom because of the scandal attending the rivalries of the claimants to the Papal crown, bulls were issued, and persecutions carried out under them.
John Huss endeavored to reform the abuses of the Papacy. He exposed the lying wonders that then, as now, captivated the people. There was one noted relic which he especially attacked. It was a reputed portion of the blood of Christ, and by it all kinds of miracles were said to be wrought. Thousands flocked to it, and the lame were healed and the blind given sight by its virtue. All this reads like some of the relics now becoming fashionable in our own country, and which ever attract thousands of sightseers on the Continent. If on this matter common sense existed in our nineteenth century, like that brought into use by John Huss in the fifteenth century, it would be all the better for religion today. The Archbishop of Prague instituted a commission of three learned men, who inquired into the miracles, and they proved that the blind people, who were alleged to have received their sight, were never blind, but only had had sore eyes, and that the lame were as lame after their being "healed" as they were before visiting the relic. Thus, under severe penalties, preachers were commanded to warn the people against impositions.
But when John Huss attacked the abominable system of indulgences he committed an unpardonable sin against the Pope and the Church, for that system brought in endless money; and, as the King of Bohemia and the people of Prague sided with him, the Pope laid the city under an interdict. The churches were closed, the dead remained unburied, and the images were draped in black, and, being taken off their pedestals, were laid flat upon the roadside—hence they were not in a suited position to receive the people's prayers. Tumults arose and struggles occurred in the streets, so John Huss left the city.
He fought the selfsame battle which is proceeding today even in our land. He wrote: "The absolution of Jesus Christ ought to precede that of the priest—or, in other words, the priest who absolves and condemns ought to be certain that the case in question is one in which Jesus Christ Himself has either absolved or condemned." This blow against the power of the priesthood could not be tolerated. What! Christ first, and the priest only the servant of Christ in the forgiveness of sins! Such a statement deprives the priest of his priestly power, and leads the sinner to Christ instead of the priest. But a greater evil still was promulgated, for Huss wrote: "If the Pope uses his power according to God's commands, he cannot be resisted without resisting God Himself; but if the Pope abuses his power by enjoining what is contrary to the divine law, then it is a duty to resist him, as should be done to the pale horse of the Apocalypse, to the dragon, to the beast, and to the leviathan." Here Papal infallibility was struck at; for, if the Word of God, and not the word of the Pope, is to be obeyed, who, after all, is the Pope?
No wonder Pope John XXIII was not trusted as the voice of God, for a viler man than he hardly ever breathed, and being one of the three rival Popes he was a scandal to the Church. Perhaps, had he merely been a bad-living man, he would have been sainted in due season, for, evil as he was, he was not unlike other Popes of his times; but the rivalry of the Pontiffs disturbed the kings and emperor of the age, and political necessities demanded and accomplished John's removal from office. The Emperor Sigismund was honestly grieved at the scandal, and he determined to put an end to it, and called a great council together, to which came prelates and delegates from all parts of Europe. In the end, two of the rivals were deposed, and the third retired.
But another man was summoned before this council, not to give an account for an evil life—far from it—but for an unpardonable offense in the eyes of the Emperor and the Church—for preaching Christ. Huss presented himself at the council under the protection of a safe conduct of the Emperor, and every bond of word and of honor which mortal man could give. But Emperor and council set their word and honor at naught. "No faith is to be kept with heretics to the prejudice of the Church," was the decree. Neither was this decree new to the council in question (A.D. 1415); it had been promulgated in prior centuries, and was re-declared in later ones. It is Rome's principle of today, and, therefore, no oath or promise made to a heretic by the Church, or those whom the Church can command, is valid, for immediately there is necessity for the interest and benefit of the Church, the oath is converted into a lie.
Huss was seized, cast into a dungeon and loaded with chains, and, strangely enough, his dungeon stood in the very prison where the Pope was confined! When Huss was brought before his accusers, he appealed to the Scriptures, which occasioned such an uproar of jeers and laughter amongst the "fathers" that he could not be heard. The voice of the Church drowned the voice of God.
When the sentence of condemnation had been recorded against Huss, the ceremony of degradation followed. His hair was cut crosswise in token that he could never again exercise his priestly office, and seven bishops deprived him of seven priestly garments, each one cursing him as he exercised his power. After that he was crowned with a hideous cap, painted with the figures of devils, and then the bishops said, "Now we devote your soul to the devil,”
Then a procession was formed of Emperor and prelates, and a great crowd, and John Huss was led to the stake. He was chained by the neck as he stood on straw and fagots, and wood was piled about him to his chin. While in this position the Marshal of the Empire approached, and, in Sigismund's name, implored him to retract. "I call God to witness," cried Huss, "that all that I have written and preached has been with the view of rescuing souls from sin and perdition; and, therefore, most joyfully will I confirm with my blood that truth which I have written and preached.”
When the fire was lighted Huss uttered no cry of pain, and as it arose around him he sang hymns to God.
Emperor and prelates thought they had silenced the voice of John Huss forever, but today the very Rhine which bore his ashes to the ocean, rolls through lands where the Bible is in the people's hands, and lands which are great because they possess the Bible in their own mother tongue. War to the knife against the Bible is the battle of Rome.