Bicknell on Article XXII: Of Purgatory

Unaltered since 1553 except that in 1563 ‘The Romish doctrine’ (doctrina Romanensium) was substituted for ‘the doctrine of school- authors’ (doctrina scholasticorum)—probably to bring the condemna- tion up to date. Hae,

N.B.—In the original draft of the Article ‘the scholastic doctrines’ condemned included that of prayer for the dead. This was struck out before publication.

(a) Purgatory.

(i) Our Lord Himself scarcely can be said to make any direct revelation on the subject of the intermediate state. In the parable of Dives and Lazarus (Lk. 16194) and again in His words to the dying robber on the Cross, He employs current Jewish language. Thus He seems to bestow His sanction upon the general principles of contemporary Jewish belief. More than this we cannot say. To press the details of the parable is hazardous. But our Lord’s language does certainly imply a state of con- sciousness after death that is conditioned by our conduct here. He deliberately refutes the Sadducee’s denial of a future life (Mk. 12%), His profound reserve on such a subject about which curiosity is most active, is in striking contrast to the detailed pictures alike of Jewish apocalypses and of later Christian theology. His teaching throughout is marked by a stern insistence upon the eternal issues that hang upon our use of present opportunities. He discourages speculation about the future in the interest of moral earnestness about the ‘present (cp. Lk. 13? ff.). Above all He urges the duty of watchfulness.

In the Epistles the scantiness of references to the intermediate

state is in part to be explained by the expectation of our Lord’s immediate return. The majority expected to be alive at His coming. But the death of Christians at Thessalonica brought St. Paul face to face with the question. He lays down that the union of departed Christians with our Lord is not broken by death (1 Thess. 41°16), In 2 Cor. 5¢8 and Phil. 1% St. Paul seems to regard death as the entrance into a fuller union with Christ than is possible on earth. St. Peter’s language about the quickening of our Lord’s human spirit at death (1 Pet. 31%) suggests that our own spirits may then receive a more abundant hfe and that like our Lord Himself we may be called to a new form of service in the world beyond the grave. In Heb. 111644 4 and 121 the departed saints of the old covenant are regarded as looking forward to sharing with us the consummation of God’s purposes. In Rev. 6° the souls of the martyrs are pictured as underneath the altar crying aloud in prayer for the final subjugation of evil and they are bidden to ‘ rest for a little time.’ So, too, in 148 the promise is given that they ‘ which die in the Lord from henceforth … may rest from their labours.’

But this intermediate state, though a state to be desired, is always viewed as an imperfect, temporary and preparatory state. Just as our Lord did not attain to the fulness of His glorified human life till the Resurrection, so, since the full life of man is one of body and soul united, there is still the Resurrection from the dead to look forward to. Thus St. Paul seems to regard the soul, when by death it has put off the body, ‘the earthly house . of our tabernacle,’ as in some sense ‘ unclothed’ and waiting for the resurrection body, ‘ our habitation which is from heaven ’ (2 Cor. 514). He even speaks of it as ‘ absent from the body ’ (58). In Phil. 32°21 the Christian waits for a Saviour from heaven ‘who shall fashion anew the body of our humiliation, that it may be conformed to the body of his glory.’ This clearly happens not at death but at the appearing of Christ. So in 2 Tim. 4°® St. Paul expects his ‘crown of righteousness’ not at death but at ‘that day,’ 2c. the last day. In 1 Cor. 15% ff. the putting on of immortality and final defeat of death is assigned to the general resurrection at the last day (cp. Heb. 978). The same thought is found in Rev. 61 (for a little while) and, indeed, throughout the book: whatever difficulties of interpretation there are, it is quite clear that the faithful departed have not yet

attained to their full bliss. The New Jerusalem has yet to come down from heaven.

To sum up, we cannot but contrast the reticence of Scripture with the bold and confident assertions of too much later theology. At the same time, certain general principles are consistently laid down. There is a universal belief in an intermediate state, which will end with the coming of Christ and the final judgment. It is held that only through the resurrection will man attain to the perfection of his whole nature.

We must always bear in mind two points :

(a) It is probable that we are unable to receive any detailed teaching about our future life. The conditions under which it will be lived are so entirely different from those of earth that no description in human language is possible.

(@) There can be no doubt that the writers of the New Testa- ment were largely influenced by Jewish ideas. It is not always easy to say how much is due to teaching taken over from Judaism and how much is definitely Christian. Hence we must be very cautious in pressing their language. As we have said before, the whole question of time comes in. It is very difficult, again, for us to conceive of a soul without a body, 7.e. an organism by which it can enter into relation with its new environment. We may well suppose that the soul in some sense possesses the germ of a body even in the intermediate state.

(ii) We turn from Scripture to the belief of the early Church. We know of no time when Christians did not pray for the departed. Such prayers may well have been a part of the Church’s inheri- tance from Judaism.* It is usually held that in our Lord’s day the Jews were accustomed to pray for the dead. We read (2 Mace. 12°°ff.) that Judas Maccabaeus commanded prayers for the men who had fallen in battle and collected money for a sin-offering on their behalf. The apologetic tone of the writer suggests that his action needed defence, but it proves that such prayers were at least possible at that date.f (c. 100 B.c.). Further, it is highly probable that the prayers for the dead in later Jewish

+The men in guestion had fallen in battle, but under their coats were dis- covered things consecrated to idols. Hence their death was viewed as a pun- ishment from Gods The novelty may have lain not in prayer and sacrifice for the dead, but for the dead under such conditions.

worship go back to far earlier days and were in use in the syna- gogue worship that Christ attended. The New Testament is silent on the subject, except that St. Paul’s prayer for Onesimus in 2 Tim. 118, ‘The Lord grant unto him to find mercy of the Lord at that day,’ is quite possibly such a prayer: the context suggests that he was dead. All the primitive Liturgies contain a memorial of the faithful departed: in the earliest days the prayers included even the great saints and the blessed Virgin. As soon as we get a Christian literature, namely, the close of the second century, we find the practice established. Tertullian speaks not only of prayers for the dead but of the offering of the Holy Eucharist on their behalf.* The only opponent of such prayers in antiquity was a certain Aerius in the fourth century. As he also took an Arian view of Christ and founded a schism, there is no reason to suppose that he spoke for anyone but himself. So, too, from the middle of the second century onwards, we find requests for prayers on tombstones, e.g. the tomb of Abercius, Bishop of Hierapolis, and sepulchral inscriptions in the Cata- combs going back to quite an early date.

Such prayers imply a belief in progress after death, but that is all that we have the right to say. On examination, they go to prove that the early Church held closely to the teaching of Scripture.f The intermediate state was regarded as primarily a state of rest and refreshment and of closer union with Christ preliminary to the Resurrection. In the Eastern liturgies the requests are for such things as ‘ Rest,’ ‘A place and a mansion in God’s Kingdom,’ ‘ The Resurrection of the Body,’ ‘ That the sins of the departed may not be remembered.’ These blessings, it is hoped, the faithful dead are already assured of and in part enjoy. In the West the earliest prayers are very similar. But, as the West had always a deeper sense of personal sin than the Hast, such prayers tended to make more mention of sin, cleansing and forgiveness. ven so, the propitiatory aspect did not become dominant till after the time of St. Augustine, and

• Cp. Mason, Purgatory, pp. 58-77,

even in mediaeval days something of the old spirit survived in the offices of the Church, in contrast to the current popular teaching on Purgatory.*

A similar change of tone shows itself in the writings of the Fathers. The idea of purification after death is found from quite early times. But until the time of St. Augustine it seems to be almost universally connected not with the intermediate state, but with the actual Day of Judgment. Tertullian, indeed, applies the words of Christ about ‘ paying the uttermost farthing ’ to punishment after death ; but he only suggests that the punish- ment for small offences will take the form of the delay of the sinner’s resurrection.f There is no explicit suggestion of discipline during the time of waiting.{ Clement of Alexandria, Origen and Gregory of Nyssa all speak of a fiery trial which awaits man after death. But this is conceived not as a prolonged discipline in the inter- mediate state, but as the day of judgment itself. At the appearing of Christ, the Christian who is in need of purification will be at once chastened and healed. The fire that cleanses is regarded not as the fire of purgatory but as the fire of hell, which it is

• At the Reformation all prayers for the dead as distinct from the living were removed from the Prayer Book, in the reaction against everything con- nected with purgatory. But the faithful departed were meant to be included in the prayer of oblation ‘that we and all thy whole church may obtain remission of our sins.’ It is important to notice that the condemnation of prayers for the dead that was included in an early draft of this Article, was deliberately withdrawn. The question was left open. It is true, indeed, that one of the Homilies forbids all such prayers, but it does so on the ground that at death all souls pass at once to their final condition, heaven or hell. This is not Scriptural, and if we deny the premisses we are not bound to accept the con- clusion. Prayer for the dead has been included in several services for special occasions put forth by lawful authority. Now that the danger of superstition is no longer urgent, it would seem that more explicit prayers might well be reintroduced into our regular services. _ As we have seen, they do not necessarily imply any doctrine of purgatory.

• De anima, c. 58.

+The Acts of Perpetua, dating from the close of the second century, pro- bably does not imply a belief in any form of purgatory. Perpetua’s little brother, Dinocrates, had died unbaptized. In a first vision she saw him in torment. She interceded for him, and in a second vision saw him released from pain. Her prayer had obtained for him the benefits of baptism. As unbaptized he was not in purgatory at all, but in a place of torment reserved for the heathen. Her prayer was irregular, and she only dared to attempt it because of a special revelation. As a rule such prayers were limited to Christians,

supposed that all men in their measure experience and which is not only penal but remedial. For those who need it the trial will, indeed, be severe. The righteous will be purged by it, the wicked will hardly, if ever, escape from it. We must note that such teaching is based not so much on Scripture or Christian tradition as on heathen philosophy and speculation. There were indeed certain texts of Scripture which could be brought in to reinforce it, especially 1 Cor. 31°15, but its real origin lies else- where. A similar belief was shared by Basil and Gregory of Nazianzum. In the West it was adopted by Hilary, Ambrose and Jerome. But after Gregory of Nyssa the subject was prac- tically dropped in the East. Down to the Council of Florence in 1439 the Eastern Church had no doctrine of purgatory. ‘There the Greek delegates, under great pressure of outward misfortunes, were induced to consent to the doctrine of Purgatory in a vague form.* But the East as a whole refused to accept the decrees. Since then the Hastern Church, though protesting against the Roman view of purgatory as an innovation unknown to Scripture and the Fathers, has come to teach a process of purification after death, ft though it is not officially committed to any definite view about it.

In the West speculation about punishment after death found a more congenial home. St. Augustine is the real founder of a belief in a penal purgatory between death and judgment. This teaching is quite explicit in his latest work, the De Civitate. He combats the view that all punishment is remedial. ‘Some endure temporal punishments in this life only, some after death, some both now and then, but all before the last and severest judgment. But not all who endure temporal punishments after death come into the everlasting punishments that are to follow that judgment. For we have already said that in the case of some, what is not remitted in this world is remitted in the world to come’ (xxi. 13, ep. also c. 16 and c. 24 where he quotes Mt. 12%, ‘forgiveness in this world or in the world to come,’ as proving that some will be forgiven in the next world). Later,

• “Tf such as are truly penitent shall depart in the love of God, before they have-made satisfaction for their deeds by worthy fruits of penance, their souls are purged after death by purgatorial punishments.’

• Cp. the reply of the Orthodox Church to the Encyclical of Leo XIII. in 1895,

in c. 26, he is more cautious, ‘If after the death of this body, until we come to that last day of condemnation and reward, which follows the resurrection of our bodies, in this interval of time the spirits of the departed are said to endure fire of such a nature as not to be felt by those who have not had such characters and desires in this bodily life as to require the consumption of their wood, hay and stubble, but to be felt by others who have carried with them building of this kind—whether only there or here and there, or here and not there, their worldly yet pardonable things are to find the consuming fire of transitory tribulation, I do not dispute it for perhaps it is true.’ * We cannot but notice the very tentative and hesitating language. It is obvious that there is no formal and authoritative Church teaching on the subject. Augustine was feeling his way. He states his own opinion, but it is only an opinion. Even so, his primary concern was not speculation but insistence on a living faith. Such a purgatory, if it exists, as he believes, is not any excuse for slack- ness here. It is only for Christians who have at bottom remained true.

The great name of Augustine was sufficient to win general acceptance for his teaching in the West. But it remained still an opinion. Not until the close of the sixth century do we find his doctrine of purgatory endowed with any semblance of authority. In the Dialogues of Gregory the Great the question is raised ‘ Are we to believe in a purgatorial fire after death ?’ Clearly it was a legitimate subject for discussion. The answer is given that ‘a purgatorial fire before the judgment for certain light faults is to be believed.’ Such faults include unbridled conver- sation, immoderate laughter, undue anxieties, mistakes due to ignorance, including adherence to the wrong Pope! Gregory’s

*Tn his earlier writings we find a similar belief. In his homily on Ps. 38, in expounding v.!, he quotes 1 Cor. 3%, and distinguishes between the fire ‘that is to consume the ungodly for ever’ and ‘that which is to purge those that are to escape through the fire.’ Then to ensure that this fire shall not be lightly thought of, he adds, ‘Though we should be saved by fire, yet will that fire be more grievous than anything that man can suffer in this life whatsoever.’ This almost casual sentence did much to stimulate the gruesome mediaeval descriptions of the torments of Purgatory. In his De fide et operibus, cc. 24-29, he again discusses St. Paul’s language. He quite definitely places the purgatorial fire as distinct from the fire of hell between death and judgment. Op. Hnchiridion, cc. 68-69. For a full discussion of his doctrine, see Mason, op. cit.

Z

teaching makes use of certain stock texts, as 1 Cor. 345, Mt. 1282, but its real support’is the series of ‘ thrilling ghost stories,’ which form a large part of the dialogues. In fact it was claimed that a whole flood of new light had been shed upon the condition of the departed by recent revelations and apparitions. We need to remember that the mediaeval doctrine of Purgatory rested for the most part upon the visions narrated by Gregory, reinforced by fuller and later evidence of the same precarious nature. In plain English, an uncritical age was unable to distinguish between nightmares and revelations.

_ (ai) This conception of Purgatory as a place of fiery torment from which few of even the holiest Christians could hope to be exempt, came to be the dominant feature of mediaeval Christianity. As set forth by the Schoolmen it had become further corrupted by the new and terrible notion that punishment was satisfaction for sin. In order to place the current system on a rational basis, the distinction was elaborated between the guilt (culpa) and the punishment (poena) incurred by sin. Guilt, it was held, was forgiven in absolution, but the punishment that had to be borne still remained. In practice men came to think little of the guilt. That was forgiven through the merits of the Cross of Christ, and the slightest compunction, a tear or a prayer to — the Virgin, were sufficient to procure the divine forgiveness through the Church’s absolution. Then the sinner was safe from the eternal pains of hell. But Purgatory was more serious. The full measure of punishment had to be worked off, if not in this world, then in the next. God was bound to exact ‘ up to the last farthing,’ the retribution due to sin. Accordingly, the chief aim in life came to be to make provision against the torments of Purgatory. These could be reduced in advance by the per- formance of pilgrimages and other good works and by the pur- chase of ‘Pardons.’ Even after death the release of the soul could be hastened by prayers and Masses and the acquisition of pardons to be placed to the account of the departed. The whole matter was placed on a quantitative basis. The discip- linary aspect of purgatorial suffering had retreated to a secondary position. Hence the growth of solitary Masses and the springing up of the chantry system. Indeed, the chief value of the Mass came to be regarded as an insurance against the pains of Purga- tory. The clergy became purveyors of salvation at a fixed tariff :

the laity proved themselves eager customers. The doctrine was officially formulated for the first time in 1439 by the Council of Florence. We have travelled far, I will not say from Scripture, but from Augustine and Gregory.

On the whole question see : Mason, Purgatory.

We cannot wonder that the bitterest attacks of the Reformers were directed against Purgatory and everything connected with it, even the Mass itself. Purgatory seemed to have been invented to fill the coffers of the Church. The language of our Article is amply justified. Such doctrine was not only ‘grounded upon no warranty of Scripture’ but ‘repugnant to the word of God.’ Christianity had been degraded into a religion of fear, darker even than the terrors of pagan superstition. The Council of Trent fully admitted the evils. It forbade the discussion of ‘ the more difficult and subtle questions’ in popular discourses. It commanded the bishops to prohibit as ‘ scandals and stumbling blocks to the faithful,’ ‘those things which tend to a certain kind of curiosity or superstition or which savour of filthy lucre.’ But it. lacked the discernment or the courage to condemn the real root of the evil. It at least left open the view that the state of the faithful departed is chiefly one of suffering. It declared ‘there is a purgatory and that the souls there retained are re- lieved by the suffrages of the faithful but chiefly by the acceptable sacrifice of the altar.’ That is at present the official teaching of the Roman Church.* But the Catechism put forth by the Council goes further and speaks of a * purgatorial fire’ in which - the souls are ‘tormented’ (cruciatae), and popular Roman teaching, approved by the highest authorities, is still further removed from the cautious assertion of Trent. No doubt the Roman doctrine may be presented in a most refined and spiritual way.t But we may fairly complain that no attempt is made to control extravagant and superstitious ideas. There is a wide gulf between the theological minimum defended by Roman apologists,{ and the lucrative exaggerations of popular teaching.

• As in the beautiful close of Newman’s Dream of Gerontius, which should certainly be read.

t Cp. e.g. Chapman’s reply to Bishop Gore, c. 3.

(iv) What then can we say about the whole idea of purification through suffering after death? It is more than doubtful if the often-quoted passage in 1 Cor. 31°% has any real bearing on the subject. St. Paul is referring to Christian teachers. Their work will be tested at the day of judgment. Only that which is built of the finest materials will be able to endure the test. All unworthy work will be destroyed, but the teacher himself, though he suffers the loss of his reward, will escape ‘ as through fire,’ a proverbial expression like ‘a brand plucked from the burning.’ There is no reference to the time between death and judgment and no mention of purification of character.* So, too, texts like Mt. 56 ‘ till thou hast paid the last farthing ’ or 184 ‘ till he should pay all that was due,’ seem to picture rather an endless term of punishment. An infinite time is not sufficient in which to pay off an infinite debt. Nor again can we argue dogmatically that if a sin ‘ shall not be forgiven in this world or in that which is to come ’ (Mt. 1232), therefore some sins must be forgiven in the next world. The emphasis is laid rather on the incurable nature of the particular sin. In short, even the doctrine of purgatorial suffering after death, in whatever form it is held, can hardly claim to be proved from Scripture, and the Church of England is therefore perfectly justified in refusing to enforce it as an article of belief.t

At the same time, as we have seen, such a belief has been widely held in various forms in all parts of the Church since the second century and it is entirely in accordance with reason. The language of Scripture bids us view the state of the faithful departed as primarily one of rest and refreshment. But when we consider the moral imperfection of so many who die in the faith of Christ and the impossibility of seemg God ‘ without sanctification’ (Heb. 1214), it is almost impossible not to think that the life beyond the grave includes discipline through which

• To make belief in a purgatory of any kind a necessary part of the Christian faith can only be justified on the ground of some additional revelation. ‘If the idea of a Purgatory had not got beyond a “perhaps” at the beginning of the fifth century, we are safe in saying that it was not by tradition that the later Church arrived at certainty on the subject’ (Salmon, Infallibility of the Church, p. 134). The Church of Rome largely bases her detailed know- ledge of purgatory on a series of such revelations (cp. op. cit. pp. 205-213).

the character is purified. Some form of purgatory is almost an ; intellectual necessity. Such would, indeed, involve suffering,

but it would be suffering voluntarily accepted. We must also place side by side with it the purifying power of joy and thankful- ness. Gratitude and happiness can elevate the character no less than pain and struggle. No doubt in the abstract God could make souls holy in a moment, and we dare not say what the very experience of death may be able to effect, but such an act of immediate and irresistible moral change contradicts all that we perceive of God’s methods. We must be content to admit that we know very little, but we can believe that the growth in holiness begun on earth will be continued and perfected hereafter.*

(b) The Romish doctrine concerning Pardons or Indulgences f (Indulgentiae) is also declared both unscriptural and contrary to Scripture. The mediaeval system of indulgences has a long history behind it. We may pick out the following stages in its evolution.

(i) Indulgences first arose in connexion with the penitential system of the Church. In early days open and notorious sin cut off the offender from communion. The repentance by which he made his peace with God and was restored to communion included public confession of sin and the acceptance of discipline imposed by the Church. Sin was regarded not only as an offence against God but as a wrong done to the Christian society—the Body of Christ. The object of this discipline was twofold. First, it was a pledge of the reality of penitence. Secondly, it aimed at exciting and deepening penitence. It was always assumed that life in the Church and participation in her Sacra- ments were the normal pledge of union with Christ. In the

• The word ‘ purgatory’ by derivation simply means ‘a place of cleansing,’ but it has evil associations and is perhaps best avoided. ‘“ Purgatory” is not a word that I should spontaneously adopt, because it is associated with Roman theories about the future state for which I see no foundation. But the idea of purgation, of cleansing as by fire, seems to me inseparable from what the Bible teaches us of the Divine chastisements ; and though little is said directly respecting the future state, it seems to me incredible that the Divine chastisements should in this respect change their character when this visible life is ended. Neither now or hereafter is there reason to suppose that they act mechanically by an irresistible natura] process, irrespectively of human will and acceptance’ (Hort, Life and Letters, vol. ii. p. 336).

• The term ‘indulgentia ’ was borrowed from Roman law. There it signified a remission of taxation or penalty.

third century, after the persecution of Decius, the African Church was faced with a great disciplinary problem. Many Christians had lapsed. Some had actually offered sacrifice, others had offered incense to heathen gods, others again had bought certi- ficates certifying falsely that they had cleared themselves from the charge of Christianity by similar acts. Before the lapsed could be restored to communion, St. Cyprian justly imposed upon them a period of penitential discipline. Some of them, however, grew impatient and looked for some means of shortening this period. They asked the Confessors, 7.e. men who had suffered torture or imprisonment for the faith, to intercede for them and obtain a remission of discipline. Some Confessors went further and not content with intercession on behalf of the lapsed claimed the right in their own name to restore to com- munion those under penance or even excommunicate. They gave them tickets of readmission (libelli pacis) which claimed to admit them and their friends to communion without having first accom- plished the discipline imposed on them. This claim of Con- fessors to act in their own name was opposed by St. Cyprian. But the right of intercession was acknowledged. Here we find the germ of indulgences. The Church at the intercession of a Confessor remitted a part of the punishment imposed by herself. This, if wisely and justly done, was well within her own rights. She was doing no more than using her power of binding and loosing. We must remember, however, that behind Cyprian’s action lay a definite theory of the transference of merit by the intercession of those who possessed a superfluity of it, to the account of others whose moral condition enabled them to receive it.

(ii) An important step was taken when about the seventh century an indulgence passed from being a remission of an outstanding penalty to being the commutation of such a penalty for a payment of money. We find the system of ‘ Penitentials,’ z.e. the Church assessed the penance due for particular crimes at a certain rate, and by payment of the requisite sum of money remission of discipline could be purchased. Here again the system was probably unwise and led to disastrous results, but the Church can hardly be said to have exceeded her powers. What she bestowed for money was not God’s forgiveness but remission of ecclesiastical penalty.*

A fresh step was taken at the Council of Clermont (1095). There a full commutation of penance was promised by Pope Urban IT. to all who would take part in a crusade. Henceforth we find the practice of remitting the temporal penalties of sin for all who would perform certain acts of devotion profitable to the Church, e.g. building churches, pilgrimages, etc. Men were naturally ready to substitute such special acts of devotion for a long and dreary period of penitential discipline. So long as it was recognized that what was commuted by such an indulgence was the performance of canonical penance no new principle was involved.

(ii) A more serious change was made when the growth of a belief in Purgatory extended the sphere in which satisfaction for sin could be made. As we saw, men came to believe that whereas the guilt (culpa) of sin was forgiven in absolution, the wrong done to man could only be wiped out by the performance of due punishment (poena) and this punishment must be worked off, if not in this life, then in Purgatory. Since Purgatory is in time and not in eternity, the power of indulgences was held to extend there too. Further, it was held that indulgences were transferable. They might be purchased for the benefit of the departed and added to his account. Since indulgences were granted ‘a culpa et venia’ and such phrases as ‘ venia peccatorum ’ were employed in connexion with them, we cannot wonder that the uneducated regarded them as affording remission not only of the penalty but of the guilt of sm. The Church was unwilling to clear up a misunderstanding so profitable to its own purse. The demand for indulgences was increased by the Act of Pope Boniface VIII, who decreed that those who visited Rome in the year 1300 and every hundredth year following should, if penitent and having made their confession, obtain the fullest remission of their sins (plenissimam suorum veniam peccatorum). This ‘ Jubilee’ was an enormous financial success. So much so that later Popes found it advisable to shorten the interval between them.

For the growth of the system see : Creighton, History of the Papacy, vol. vi. pp. 68 ff.

(iv) Indulgences existed, and it was the business of the School- men to frame a theological defence for existing practice. This was done with the aid of the theory known as the ‘ Treasury of

Merit,’ which was formally authorized by Pope Clement VI in 1343.* They held that in the sacrifice of Christ upon the Cross there was infinite merit, far more than was needed for the sal- vation of the world. This surplus, to which was added the merits of the saints acquired by ‘works of supererogation,’ formed a spiritual treasure entrusted to the Church for the benefit of her members. In practice the Pope, as having the power of the keys, was able to dispense this for the benefit of the faithful whether on earth or in Purgatory, so as to pay up whatever still remained of the satisfaction due as the penalty of sin.t

Such a theory is the barest guess-work, a proof of theological desperation. The Schoolmen were faced with a hopeless task. The ‘treasury of merit’ rests on a conception of ‘merit’ as something transferable and able to be added and subtracted by the rules of mathematics. The Communion of Saints, which rests upon unity of life, is coarsened and degraded by it into the likeness of a joint-stock company. Life cannot be expressed in terms of arithmetic. The whole idea is unscriptural and un- spiritual. It obscures rather than illuminates the great truth of the union of all Christians living and departed in Christ. Further, it certainly cannot be proved from Scripture. Such a doctrine and the enormous claims built upon it can only be justified by a positive increase in revelation. If this increase has been made, when and to whom was the revelation given ? From time to time protests were made by the best men, as, for instance, Dante, but the scandal was too profitable to be abated. As is well known, the protest of Luther, from which we may date the beginning of the Reformation, was occasioned by the traffic in divine forgiveness.

At the Council of Trent the abuses of the system were acknow- ledged. The Council claimed that power had been granted to the Church to confer them. It anathematized those who asserted that they were useless or denied that the Church had such powers. But it went on to add ‘The Council desires moderation to be used … lest by too great facility ecclesiastical discipline should be weakened.’ It commanded that all base profits for their

• If the merits of Christ were infinite, it is not clear why the merits of the saints were required at all. Infinity cannot be increased.

purchase whereby their illustrious name had come to be blas- phemed, should be abolished. Every bishop was to search out abuses in his own diocese and bring them before the Provincial Synod, and so on. The decree is vague. The real cause of offence was not faced. The Church of Rome to-day retains indulgences and still represents them as more than a mere re- mission of ecclesiastical discipline imposed by the Church. She still teaches that they avail for souls in Purgatory. Theologians explain that they are only of avail ‘per modum suffragii,’ but popular religion pays little heed to such distinctions. There is no point on which the modern Roman controversialist is less comfortable than that of indulgences. For Roman teaching see :

‘Indulgences’ in #.R.2£.

Wilhelm and Scannell, pp. 477 ff.

(c) The Romish Doctrine… concerning Worshipping and Adoration as well of Images as of Reliques is condemned on the Same principles. In the earliest days of the Church neither pictures nor images had any place in Christian worship. Converts from Judaism brought with them their antipathy to all imitative art. Further, art had become identified with the idolatry and obscenity of a decadent pagan civilization. It was necessarily viewed with suspicion and banned from Christian use. There was need of a formal severance from the past before Christian art could be born.

(i) The first beginnings of a Christian art are to be found in the Catacombs. Symbolical paintings of very varied merit have been discovered dating from the beginning of the second century. The earliest example of any employment of art in church is the custom of painting the symbolical figure of the Good Shepherd on the chalice, mentioned by Tertullian.* At the beginning of the fourth century the building of more dignified churches had begun and it was natural that Christians should introduce into their churches the art that had beautified their tombs. In 305 the Synod of Elvira found it necessary to forbid the representa- tion of objects of worship by paintings on the walls of the churches. Clearly these pictures were no longer only symbolic: they were intended to be portraits. But during the fourth century such pictures came to be generally admitted, in spite of occasional

protests as that made by Epiphanius, who tore down a curtain in his diocese that bore a likeness.

Statuary, as being more closely associated with idolatry, became Christianized more slowly. Apart from sculptures on tombs we can find but the scantiest traces of Christian statuary during the first five centuries. Up to this day the Greek Church regards ‘images’ as a violation of the second commandment and employs only ‘ikons,’ 2.e. representations of our Lord and the saints in mosaic or painting. This, however, has made little difference in practice. In the West at the beginning of the seventh century Gregory the Great found it necessary to protest against the misuse of pictures and images.* In the East the scandal became so great that in the eighth century the Emperor Leo the Isaurian issued an edict for the destruction of all ‘ikons.’ From this started the iconoclastic controversy which lasted to the middle of the ninth century. Roughly speaking the Emperors were the champions of the party of destruction and the Popes of retention. The beginning of the end came with the Second Council of Nicaea in 787, which ultimately came to be accepted as the seventh general council by Hast and West alike. This decided in favour not only of images but of the veneration of images. It enjoined that they should be set up and ‘ treated as holy memorials, worshipped, kissed, only without that peculiar adoration (Aatpe‘a) which is reserved for the Invis- ible, Incomprehensible God.’ + The controversy lasted on till 840, but in the end the decisions’ of the Council of Nicaea triumphed. Whatever sympathy the iconoclastic party must arouse by their zeal against abuses is more than counterbalanced by their fanaticism and want of religious earnestness. Further, the question had become complicated by the discussion about the permanence of our Lord’s human nature. This was in effect denied by the iconoclasts in their arguments against representa- tions of our Lord’s human form. Their triumph would have been a disaster for Christian faith.

f tyuntixh mpockiyno.s, which is to be paid to images, is not divine worship. The Council compares it with the veneration due to the Gospels. It is akin to the veneration shown to Emperors.

{ The decisions of Nicaea did not win immediate acceptance in the West. All adoration of images was condemned by the ‘Caroline’ books edited by

But, unhappily, the veneration of images in the West did not stay within the limits marked out for it by Councils. St. Thomas Aquinas in the thirteenth century advocated that ‘atria,’ the highest form of worship reserved for God alone, be paid not only to Christ, but to images of Christ and even to the Cross. ‘We also address and supplicate the Cross even as the Crucified Himself.’ * If this was the teaching of the learned, we may be sure that the practice of the unlearned went considerably further. In 1408 Archbishop Arundel ordered that the clergy should preach and teach the veneration (venerart) not only of the images of Christ and of the Cross but of the saints, ‘ with processions, bendings of the knees, bowings of the body, incensings, kissings, offerings, lightings of candles and pilgrimages.’ This was the deliberate encouragement of superstition. It opened the way for widespread fraud and lucrative miracle-mongering. Hven the opponents of the Reformation admitted the existence of gross abuses. Such, indeed, is implied in the language of the Council of Trent itself, which commands the retention of images and that due honour and veneration should be paid to them, but utters very pointed warnings against superstition and lucre.f

(ii) The real question that underlies adoration of images is far more complex than at first glance appears.{ What do we

Aleuin about 790, so-called from their connexion with Charles the Great. In 794 the Council of Frankfort, acting probably under a misapprehension of the meaning of zpocxd’vyots, rejected the decrees of Nicaea. For an account of the controversy see Trench, Mediaeval History, Lect. 7.

• Summa, iii. 25, Arts. iii. and iv.

• ‘Not that any Divinity or virtue is believed to be in them on account of which they are to be worshipped : or that anything is to be sought of them : or that trust is to be placed in images, as in former days was done by the heathen, who placed their hope in idols : but because the honour which is shown to them is referred to the prototypes which they represent. …In the invocation of saints, the veneration of relics and the sacred use of relics let all superstition be taken away, all base gain be abolished, finally all lasciviousness avoided, so that images be not painted or adorned in wanton beauty and men misuse not the celebration of saints and visitation of relics to revellings and drunkenness ’ (Session 25).

{ The Scriptural arguments used by Roman controversialists to defend image- worship hardly deserve mention. Any support drawn from the rendering of Heb. 11% in the Douai version, ‘Jacob adored the top of his rod,’ rests on a mistranslation. The verse should run ‘Jacob worshipped, leaning upon the top of his staff’ (R.V.). So, too, Psalm 99° should be translated not ‘ Adore

mean by ‘worship’ or ‘adoration’? How does one set about worshipping an image? We all naturally treat the photograph of one we love with respect and reverence. Pictures and other objects become endeared to us by association and acquire a value that goes far beyond their intrinsic nature. In the case of religion we rightly treat with reverence a picture of our Lord or a crucifix. Such are often a real stimulus to our imagination. They are a means of education and a help to devotion, at least to certain people and at certain times. It is no more wrong to treat them with reverence than to treat a Bible with reverence. But at what point does superstition begin? When does rever- ence pass into idolatry ? That is a question not of outward act but of inner motive and intention. Official Roman theology has recognized this by the distinctions that it draws between various degrees of reverence. Latria is the supreme worship due to God alone. Hyperdulia, a degree of reverence due to the Blessed Virgin alone. Dulia that degree of reverence due to thefsaints and their images. These distinctions are excellent on paper, but have proved to be very difficult to observe in practice. There is no such thing as a devotional thermometer. No precise rules can be laid down. We cannot wonder that at the Reformation a clean sweep was made of all images. What has been profitable for education or devotion in one age may always become dan- gerous and unhealthy in the next. The appeal to the eye-gate into the soul of man cannot be ignored, but the methods by which the appeal is made must vary at different times. Superstition begins when the means employed to express and quicken devotion get in between the soul and God, when the means are erected into an end, when some inherent power, independent of God Himself, is supposed to reside in the means used or when they are treated as possessing a magical efficacy that relieves the user of them from the strain of moral earnestness. Against such

His footstool,’ but ‘worship at His footstool.’ The second commandment clearly forbids image-making for worship. But we are Christians, not Jews. Since in the Incarnation God was made man, the representation of our Lord does not infringe the spirit of the commandment or endanger a right belief in the nature of God. We may, however, regret that in most Roman catechisms the second commandment is combined with the first and so abbreviated as to obscure entirely the condemnation of image-worship. Attempts have been made to argue from David dancing before the Ark (2 Sam. 64). The weakness of the whole case is obvious.

dangers no rules can be a safeguard. The Bible no less than images has been used superstitiously. Puritanism has its super- stitions. Human nature always desires a substitute for that ‘worship in spirit and in truth’ which alone God desires. The use of images in Churches is a question of discipline. Its expedi- ency varies with the circumstances of the day. In our Article the Church of England rightly protests against their misuse. How far they shall be permitted is a question for a national Church to decide.

(ii) Closely connected with the question of images is that of relics. The natural reverence for the bodies of those dear to us was in the case of Christians heightened by the new respect for all connected with human body taught by the Incarnation. Such reverence was further increased by the honour that was felt to be due to martyrs. In the early days this instinct was satisfied by the careful collecting of their remains for burial, by assembling for worship and celebrating the Holy Eucharist at their tombs. It is sufficiently expressed by the letter from the Church of Smyrna recounting the martyrdom of St. Polycarp (155). They scornfully reject the insinuation that they worship any but Christ. ‘ Him being the Son of God we adore, but the martyrs as disciples and imitators of the Lord we cherish as they deserve for their matchless affection towards their own King and teacher.’ *

But with the lowered tone of spiritual life that began in the fourth century, the purity of motive disappeared and reverence became mixed with superstition. The alleged discovery of the true Cross by Helena, mother of the Emperor Constantine, in 326 gave a great impetus to the downward movement. Relics became treated as valuable for their own sake and as instinct with supernatural power. It was believed that miracles were wrought through them. Nominal Christians, less than half converted from paganism, gave a hearty welcome to the cult. Throughout the middle ages relic-worship was unquestioned.

After the crusades a most lucrative trade was plied with relics of all sorts from the Holy Land. Pilgrimages to the shrines of saints combining amusement with salvation were a marked feature of mediaeval life. At the Reformation, as was to be expected, there was a violent reaction. The Council of Trent did, indeed, retain the adoration of relics, with many cautions, as we have seen, that bear witness to the seriousness of the abuse. The general position is very similar to that in the case of images. No real arguments from Scripture can be adduced. The cures wrought by ‘ handkerchiefs and aprons’ taken from the person of St. Paul (Acts 19%) were sudden and spontaneous. There is no trace anywhere in the New Testament of the preservation of relics for worship. Here again the borderline between rever- ence and superstition is hard to define. We naturally treasure things as mementoes of those we love. From their associations they become invested with a new and most real value. Such a sentiment is right and natural so long as it does not pass into the ascription to them of any inherent power. Temperaments and ages differ, and what may be healthy and helpful to one man at one time is unhealthy and harmful to another man at another time. The decision must be left to reason and conscience. In the case of the Church as a whole the treatment of relics comes within the province of ecclesiastical discipline. At the time of the Reformation the Church of England judged very drastic action to be expedient. She was within her rights in doing so.

(d) The Romish doctrine … concerning invocation of Saints, is a fond thing, vainly invented and grounded wpon no warranty of Scripture, but rather repugnant to the word of God.

(i) It is not altogether clear what the Article intended to condemn under the title of ‘the Romish doctrine concerning the invocation of saints.’ There is a certain ambiguity both about ‘Romish’ and ‘invocation.’ Bishop John Wordsworth has shown that ‘ Romish ’ is simply synonymous with * Romanist.’ * It is quite a vague term for doctrines upheld by the favourers of the Pope, whether abroad or in England, selected because it was not abusive. Of such doctrines the Council of Trent was the formal exponent. The substitution of such a word for the refer- ence to the ‘ school-authors ’ was perfectly natural in 1563. The day of the latter was past. There is no real evidence that

‘Romanenses’ was ever used to designate the ‘extreme mediaeval party.’

Again, ‘invocation’ may mean either of two things: the simple request to a saint for his prayers, ‘ora pro nobis,’ or a request for some particular benefit. In mediaeval times the saints had come to be regarded as themselves the authors of blessings. Such a view was condemned at the Council of Trent, but invocation in the former sense was defended and asserted. ‘Tt is good and useful to invoke the saints as suppliants and to resort to their prayers, aid and help for obtaining benefits from God through His Son Jesus Christ our Lord, who alone is our Redeemer.and Saviour.’ The direct petitions to saints for bless- ings found in modern Roman devotions are always explained as no more than requests to the saints to pray to God that He will grant such blessings. The point at issue about our Article is this, Does it condemn both forms of invocation or does it only condemn requests for benefits ?

In favour of the latter position it may be urged (a) Our Article cannot condemn the doctrine of Trent on this subject because that was not formulated till the close of 1563, whereas our Article had been issued in its present form by February of that year. (@) There is some evidence that the distinction between the two kinds of invocation was recognized at the Reformation. They were distinguished in the Bishop’s Book and the King’s Book. In the first of these books ‘invocation’ is quite definitely used of such prayer as should be made to God alone, and such invo- cation is contrasted with requests to the saints for their prayers.* In the second book the language is changed, but though this technical use of ‘invocation’ is withdrawn, the distinction between the two kinds is maintained.

On the other hand it has been replied : (a) Though the formal discussion of the question of invocation of saints at Trent is later than our Article, the Council’s decision had already been anticipated in the decree ‘ De Sacrificio Missae,’ issued in Septem- ber, 1562. In this the duty of asking saints for their prayers was explicitly maintained. This decree may well have been

• ‘To pray to Saints to be intercessors with us and for us to our dear Lord for our suits which we make to Him, and for such things as we can obtain of none, but of Him, so that we make no invocation of them, is lawful and allowed by the Catholic Church,’

known to Convocation when it met in January, 1563, and the change to ‘Romanensium’ may be a reply to it. (@) The limited use of ‘invocation’ as found in the Bishop’s Book is an isolated instance to which no real parallel can be quoted. The very fact that it was withdrawn in the King’s Book suggests that it was felt to be unsatisfactory. ‘This peculiar limit to the term ‘invocation,’ was in fact a transient usage, of which traces appear in some later English writers. But it was never accepted as the usual or established meaning of the word.’ * (y) Further, the Articles were revised in 1571 under the presi- dency of Parker, who had also presided in 1563. It is quite clear that by that time the only Romish doctrine worth considering was that of Trent. If our Article had been intended only to condemn popular superstitions, the phrase could hardly have been retained.

On the whole, then, we incline to the view that the Article condemns all kinds of invocation, though we allow that there is a loophole for maintaining the other view.

(ii) In the New Testament there is no allusion whatever to asking departed Christians for their prayers. The practice is neither allowed nor forbidden. In part this silence may be explained by the comparative absence of speculation about the future state due to the daily expectation of the Parousia. But if the practice were so vital to Christian faith as some have maintained, we might have at least expected, let us say, some allusion by St. Paul to the prayers of the Blessed Stephen.

The practice of invoking saints became officially countenanced in the Church during the fourth century. All authorities are agreed on this point. We find no invocations of saints in any Christian writer and teacher before the fourth century.t The question of popular devotions is more obscure. Inscriptions

• A passage of Origen (220) sometimes quoted in favour of the practice refers not to saints at rest, but to saints still on earth. ‘It is not improper to offer supplication, intercession and thanksgiving to saints: and two of these—I mean intercession and thanksgiving—not only to saints, but to-mere men, but supplication to saints only, if any Peter or Paul can be found, that they may help us: making us worthy to enjoy the license which was granted to them of forgiving sins’ (Quoted Luckock, After Death, p. 175, and examined pp. 187-188). The contrast is between holy men and men who are not holy.

-CHURCH’S AUTHORITY IN DOCTRINE 369

on tombstones containing requests to the departed are found in the Catacombs and elsewhere. Such form only a small pro- portion of the whole and their date is by no means certain. Few are earlier than 313. Some would understand them less as formal invocations than as parting requests to the dead to remember their friends in the Beyond. In view, however, of contemporary pagan customs they are probably to be regarded as invocations. They would form a starting point for the custom of prayer to martyrs at their tombs. In the fourth century the practice first received the encouragement of theologians. Such invocations are found in the writings of the Cappadocian Fathers, the two Gregories and Basil, in Chrysostom and Ephraem Syrus, and in Ambrose and Augustine. From the latter it is clear that in his day the practice was a popular one, sanctioned indeed by the authority of great teachers, but that such invocations were not yet admitted into the public services of the Church. A great impetus was given to the movement by the hymns of Paulinus of Nola and Prudentius. The first introduction of invocations to a saint into public worship is assigned by Nicephorus to Peter the Fuller, the monophysite patriarch of Constantinople (c. 480). Before the middle of the eighth century they had made their way into Litanies. In the Middle Ages beyond all doubt saints were treated as direct authors of benefits spiritual and temporal. They had become for practical purposes departmental deities.* That this is pure heathenism all would allow; as the decrees of the Council of Trent show, no one could attempt to defend such -a misconception. But the question still remains, ‘ Is it right to ask saints for their prayers?’ This limited form of invocation is all that is permitted and defended officially, both in the Roman and Greek churches, however little popular practice conforms to official theology.

In favour of the practice it is argued that the souls under the altar (Rev. 6°) are engaged in prayer, and in Heb. 12? the saints are called ‘witnesses’ of our race. It is inconceivable that holy souls should cease to pray for those whom they love on

• (Cp. the words of Sir Thomas More: ‘ We set every saint in his office and assign him such a craft as pleaseth us: St. Loy a horse-leech, St. Ippolytus a smith, St. Apollonia a tooth-drawer, St. Syth women set to find their keys, St. Roke we appoint to see to the great sickness and St. Sebastian with him. Some saints serve for the eye only, others for a sore breast.’

2A

earth. St. Peter or St. Paul must continue to pray for the Churches that they founded or a mother to pray for her children. Again, if it is right to ask our earthly friends for their prayers, why is it not equally right to ask our fellow-Christians beyond the veil for theirs? We are still fellow-members of the Body of Christ and we may believe that if through death they have entered into a fuller union with Christ their power of prayer has become intensified. The practice of invocation makes the communion of saints a reality. It has been the unbroken custom of the Catholic Church in East and West alike since the fourth century at least.

On the other hand, there are very strong arguments that cause us to hesitate in adopting the practice and that justify the Church of England in banishing all invocations of saints from her public worship.*

(a) Such invocations rest upon the assumption that the saints can hear them: otherwise they are utterly unreal. This is a very large assumption and certainly cannot be proved from Scripture. The Fathers speak very doubtfully about the know- ledge that the saints possess about the affairs of earth. If St. Ambrose in one place encourages men to implore the prayers of martyrs, in another place, addressing his own brother who was dead, he implies that the dead are unconscious of the sorrows of the living. St. Augustine practically denies that the dead know unconditionally what is happening on earth, though they may get to hear of it from those who join them from earth or angels may tell them what they need to know. Or, again, they may come to learn what is needful by an exceptional and direct revelation of God the Holy Ghost. He expressly leaves it an open question how the martyrs are able to aid those whom they help.f The saints may even be unconscious of the benefits wrought by God in answer to requests made to them. This uncertainty could not continue. The practice was established and a theological defence for it had to be found. By the time of Gregory the Great (c. 600) an answer had been found. ‘The

*In the English Litany, published in 1549, the invocation of saints was confined to three clauses, only St. Mary being mentioned by name. In the 1549 Prayer-Book these were deleted.

• See the full quotations from his De Cura pro Mortuis given and discussed in Mason’s Purgatory, pp. 145-153,

saints inwardly see the brightness of Almighty God, and therefore we cannot believe that they are ignorant of anything outward.’ * This is the explanation usually adopted. The saints enjoy the vision of God, and as God sees all things they also see them in God, as in a mirror. Even so Peter Lombard, the schoolman (1164), can only speak of it as ‘ not incredible,’ and later Duns Scotus is content to say that it is ‘ probable’ that God reveals our prayers to the saints. Even later Roman apologists have admitted that it is not certain whether the saints are aware of our prayers. In short, the whole theory that the saints possess all knowledge in the Beatific Vision is a piece of pious specula- tion.f It was unknown to the Christian Church for many cen- turies and if more than a speculation, must have been revealed since: if so, when and where? Further, in Roman theology a sharp distinction is made between the saints who have been admitted to heaven and the rest of the faithful departed who are elsewhere. Only the invocation of the former is enjoined ; the invocation of souls in purgatory is tolerated but not encouraged.{ This distinction is most questionable. Scripture and the early Fathers seem to know of no admission of any of the departed to the full glories of heaven until after the resurrection of the dead: in this Christians follow in the steps of Christ. The martyrs in the Revelation are ‘under the Altar,’ and ‘under the Altar’ is not ‘before the Throne.’ So Justin Martyr,§ Irenaeus|| and

• Gregory, Moral. in Job 12”. + Heb. 121 lends little support to the belief. udprupes may be either ‘ wit- - nesses’ or ‘martyrs’: in any case the Christians are bidden to look not unto them, but ‘unto Jesus.’ The runner in an earthly race fixes his eyes on the goal, not the spectators.

• The Eastern Church refuses to accept this sharp distinction and invokes all the departed. Children invoke their parents, ete. Such invocation is far closer to that first introduced into the Church, and is free from many of the objections that can be brought against the Roman practice. °

|| Adv. Haer. v. 31. It is following the example of the heretics ‘to break through the order in which the righteous are advanced’ and ‘say that as they are dead they pass beyond the heavens.’ Christians are in a place appointed by God fox the resurrection and only after rising with their bodies ‘come to the vision of God,’

Tertullian * all make it plain beyond any possibility of doubt that they believed that no soul went to heaven at death but only after the resurrection of the dead at the Last Day, and such teaching lasted on for several centuries. Again, if saints can hear petitions addressed to them at any time or place, this means that, say, St. Mary or St. Peter can hear and intercede for thousands at the same time ; such an infinite capacity trenches on the divine attributes of omniscience and omnipresence. To sum up, while it is possible that the saints can hear invocations, there is no sure ground for affirming it. The opposite opinion is at least equally tenable.

(8) Requests to the saints are not on a level with requests to our own living friends. The very fact of death removes the similarity and destroys the normal attitude of man to man. The danger is increased when only great saints are invoked. The practice seems to have begun with invoking relatives or close friends. The Fathers invoke their own teachers and com- panions. The earliest examples occur, as we should expect, in funeral orations and sermons on martyrs, and then are largely rhetorical. The next step was to invoke martyrs apart from their tombs, and other conspicuous saints. Finally, vocations were confined to canonized saints and the most primitive form tended to disappear. Thus the centre of gravity has shifted altogether. In the first six centuries, for instance, only one invocation of the Blessed Virgin is known, and the saints invoked are local saints. With the change the danger of reverence passing into worship is increased. Further, when requests are sung in public worship or said on bended knee, the feeling of worship is encouraged. The request will speedily become a prayer. Even St. John under similar conditions fell twice into error and was reproved (Rev. 191°, 228). The custom of invoca- tion first became prominent at a time when pagans in large numbers flocked into the Church, imperfectly trained in the doctrine of the one true God. They carried their heathen ideas with them. The pagans had been accustomed to inscribe upon their tombs invocations to the departed and to feast at their tombs on certain fixed days. The saints easily took the place

martyrs are privileged at death to enter Paradise, but Paradise in Tertullian’s view is not heaven. For full quotations see Mason, Purgatory, pp. 78-86.

of the many gods and spirits of heathenism. To say that invoca- tion of saints is in origin largely pagan and a part of natural religion, is not necessarily to say that it is wrong. But it at least leaves it an open question whether it is Christian or in accordance with Christian revelation. Further, let us remember that what is defended is simply asking saints for their prayers. We may fairly ask if invocation has ever stopped there. In history re- quest for prayers very rapidly passed into request for benefits. In modern Romanism the distinction is preserved only in the study of the theologian. If the Fathers could have seen the results that a few centuries later were to follow from their very tentative and often inconsistent teaching on the subject, we may believe that they would have shrunk from the steps that they | took to encourage such invocations.

(y) We need to be very jealous for the honour of God and the purity of worship. The saints have often been more popular than God, because they have been supposed to be more human and less severe towards sin. So fallen man obtains what he craves for, an object of worship that does not make too great demands upon him for holiness of life. Again, we need to insist on the true and perfect humanity of our Lord. The extravagant devotion to the Blessed Virgin has largely arisen from the obscuring of our Lord’s humanity. As Son of Man He combines the strength of manhood with all the tenderness and grace of womanhood. There is no need to go outside Him for the fullest and truest human sympathy.

(0) The direct invocation of saints does at least bring into practical religious life certain great Christian truths, the reality of the communion of saints and the unseen world, the actuality of life after death and the like. We must admit that the Church of England has minimized these parts of the Christian faith in her life and teaching. Where Rome has erred by excess, we have erred by defect. The question is, can these truths have their due practical effect without resorting to invocation? An answer may be found in the ancient practice of ‘ comprecation.’ ‘Comprecation,’ as opposed to ‘invocation,’ is the practice of asking God Himself for a share in the prayers of the saints This is a truly primitive and Catholic practice, found in the ancient Liturgies and open to no possible theological objection. It affirms the truth that the saints do pray for us, it meets the

human need for active fellowship with the departed and it brings into the sphere of practical religion the communion of saints as including not only those on earth but those beyond the veil.*

Finally, we claim that the action of the Church of England in excluding all invocation of saints from public worship is in full accord with the principles for which she stands. She refuses to impose any teaching that cannot be proved from Scripture. To admit such invocation would be to affirm what Scripture has not affirmed, that the saints can hear our petitions. That is a point about which individuals are entitled to hold opposite opinions and our Church would be false to her own teaching if she cur- tailed this liberty by introducing invocations. She would, in effect, exclude those who are unable to accept the claims upon which such a practice is based. At the same time, individuals are left perfectly free to adopt such invocations in their own private prayers and to ask their dear ones who are departed to pray for them. There is a real distinction in principle. Our position is not in the least un-Catholic. It is true that for many centuries the Roman Church and the Church of the Kast have practised invocation of saints im their public services. But the practice does not fulfil the test of catholicity, semper, ubique, ab omnibus, since it was unknown for at least two and probably three centuries. At the lowest estimate it is a matter on which a national Church can legislate for herself. We should not be right in refusing communion with a Church that practised it, simply on that ground. But after all our appeal is not simply to Catholic custom, but to Catholic custom as tested by Scripture. If we are loyal to this, our position is unassailable.

These paragraphs are in the main based on a series of letters by the Rev. R. B. Rackham which appeared in the Church Times, November and December, 1906, to which further reference may be made.

See also H. F. Stewart, Invocation of Saints.

Mason, Purgatory, pp. 77-76 and Lect. IIL., or (less full) Luckock, After Death, pp. 153-228 and 255-260. For the historical question of the meaning of the Article see : Wordsworth, The Invocation of Saints. In favour of direct invocation: Darwell Stone, The Invocation of Saints.

• Cp. e.g. the words of St. Cyril of Jerusalem, ‘Then we make mention of those who have fallen asleep before us, first of patriarchs, prophets, apostles, martyrs that God would at their prayers and intercessions receive our supplications.’

Notes

• See Luckock, After Death, c. v.
• De Corona, c. 3 ‘ We offer on one day in the year, oblations for the dead, as birth-day honours. … (c. 4) For these and such like rules, if thou requirest a law in the Scriptures, thou shalt find none. Tradition will be pleaded to thee as originating them, custom as confirming them, and faith as observing them.’ Probably it is only the oblation that is rested on tradition, not Scripture.
• See Mohler, Symbolism, vol. ii. pp. 138-139.
• See Goudge or Robertson and Plummer, ad loc. On the otner side see Gayford, The Future State, pp. 44-46.
• See Strong, Christian Ethics, pp. 342-343.
• We find a strangely similar idea of the merits of the Fathers in later Judaism (cp. Gore, Ephesians, note c.).
• De Pudicitia, c. 10.
• Ep. 7. They are to be made and exhibited only to instruct the minds of the unlearned. Any worship or adoration is forbidden.
• ¢, xvii. Lightfoot, Apostolic Fathers, part ii. vol. iii. p. 484. It continues in c. xviii. ‘We afterwards took up his bones which are more valuable than precious stones and finer than refined gold and laid them in a suitable place ; where the Lord will permit us to gather ourselves together, as we are able, in gladness and joy, and to celebrate the birthday of his martyrdom for the commemoration of those that have already fought in the contest and for the training and preparation of those that shall do so hereafter.’
• The Invocation of Saints and the 22nd Article, pp. 44-48.
• Wordsworth, op. cit. p. 60.
• Dialogue with Trypho, c. 80. Those who say ‘ that there is no resurrection of the dead, but their souls are taken up to Heaven at the moment of death’ are not to be considered Christians at all. Cp. also c. 5.
• De Anima, c. 55, ‘ Heaven is opened to none while earth remains.’ The