_Filii hujus seculi_, &c.--Luc. xvi. [8].
Christ in this saying touched the sloth and sluggishness of his, and did
not allow the fraud and subtlety of others; neither was glad that it was
indeed as he had said, but complained rather that it should be so: as
many men speak many things, not that they ought to be so, but that they
are wont to be so. Nay, this grieved Christ, that the children of this
world should be of more policy than the children of light; which thing
was true in Christ's time, and now in our time is most true. Who is so
blind but he seeth this clearly; except perchance there be any that
cannot discern the children of the world from the children of light? The
children of the world conceive and bring forth more prudently; and things
conceived and brought forth they nourish and conserve with much more
policy than do the children of light. Which thing is as sorrowful to be
said, as it seemeth absurd to be heard. When ye hear the children of the
world, you understand the world as a father. For the world is father of
many children, not by the first creation and work, but by imitation of
love. He is not only a father, but also the son of another father. If
ye know once his father, by and by ye shall know his children. For he
that hath the devil to his father, must needs have devilish children. The
devil is not only taken for father, but also for prince of the world,
that is, of worldly folk. It is either all one thing, or else not much
different, to say, children of the world, and children of the devil;
according to that that Christ said to the Jews, "Ye are of your father
the devil:" where as undoubtedly he spake to children of this world. Now
seeing the devil is both author and ruler of the darkness, in the which
the children of this world walk, or, to say better, wander; they mortally
hate both the light, and also the children of light. And hereof it
cometh, that the children of light never, or very seldom, lack
persecution in this world, unto which the children of the world, that is,
of the devil, bringeth them. And there is no man but he seeth, that
these use much more policy in procuring the hurt and damage of the good,
than those in defending themselves. Therefore, brethren, gather you the
disposition and study of the children by the disposition and study of the
fathers. Ye know this is a proverb much used: "An evil crow, an evil
egg." Then the children of this world that are known to have so evil a
father, the world, so evil a grandfather, the devil, cannot choose but be
evil. Surely the first head of their ancestry was the deceitful serpent
the devil, a monster monstrous above all monsters. I cannot wholly
express him, I wot not what to call him, but a certain thing altogether
made of the hatred of God, of mistrust in God, of lyings, deceits,
perjuries, discords, manslaughters; and, to say at one word, a thing
concrete, heaped up and made of all kind of mischief. But what the devil
mean I to go about to describe particularly the devil's nature, when no
reason, no power of man's mind can comprehend it? This alonely I can say
grossly, and as in a sum, of the which all we (our hurt is the more) have
experience, the devil to be a stinking sentine of all vices; a foul
filthy channel of all mischiefs; and that this world, his son, even a
child meet to have such a parent, is not much unlike his father.
Then, this devil being such one as can never be unlike himself; lo, of
Envy, his well-beloved Leman, he begat the World, and after left it with
Discord at nurse; which World, after that it came to man's state, had of
many concubines many sons. He was so fecund a father, and had gotten so
many children of Lady Pride, Dame Gluttony, Mistress Avarice, Lady
Lechery, and of Dame Subtlety, that now hard and scant ye may find any
corner, any kind of life, where many of his children be not. In court,
in cowls, in cloisters, in rochets, be they never so white; yea, where
shall ye not find them? Howbeit, they that be secular and laymen, are
not by and by children of the world; nor they children of light, that are
called spiritual, and of the clergy. No, no; as ye may find among the
laity many children of light, so among the clergy, (how much soever we
arrogate these holy titles unto us, and think them only attributed to us,
_Vos estis lux mundi, peculium Christi, &c_. "Ye are the light of the
world, the chosen people of Christ, a kingly priesthood, an holy nation,
and such other,") ye shall find many children of the world; because in
all places the world getteth many children. Among the lay people the
world ceaseth not to bring to pass, that as they be called wordly, so
they are wordly indeed; driven headlong by worldly desires: insomuch that
they may right well seem to have taken as well the manners as the name of
their father. In the clergy, the world also hath learned a way to make
of men spiritual, worldlings; yea, and there also to form worldly
children, where with great pretence of holiness, and crafty colour of
religion, they utterly desire to hide and cloak the name of the world, as
though they were ashamed of their father; which do execrate and detest
the world (being nevertheless their father) in words and outward signs,
but in heart and work they coll and kiss him, and in all their lives
declare themselves to be his babes; insomuch that in all worldly points
they far pass and surmount those that they call seculars, laymen, men of
the world. The child so diligently followeth the steps of his father, is
never destitute of the aid of his grandfather. These be our holy holy
men, that say they are dead to the world, when no men be more lively in
worldly things than some of them be. But let them be in profession and
name most farthest from the world, most alienate from it; yea, so far,
that they may seem to have no occupying, no kindred, no affinity, nothing
to do with it: yet in their life and deeds they shew themselves no
bastards, but right begotten children of the world; as that which the
world long sithens had by his dear wife Dame Hypocrisy, and since hath
brought them up and multiplied to more than a good many; increased them
too much, albeit they swear by all he-saints and she-saints too, that
they know not their father, nor mother, neither the world, nor hypocrisy;
as indeed they can semble and dissemble all things; which thing they
might learn wonderful well of their parents. I speak not of all
religious men, but of those that the world hath fast knit at his girdle,
even in the midst of their religion, that is, of many and more than many.
For I fear, lest in all orders of men the better, I must say the greater
part of them be out of order, and children of the world. Many of these
might seem ingrate and unkind children, that will no better acknowledge
and recognise their parents in words and outward pretence, but abrenounce
and cast them off, as though they hated them as dogs and serpents.
Howbeit they, in this wise, are most grateful to their parents, because
they be most like them, so lively representing them in countenance and
conditions, that their parents seem in them to be young again, forasmuch
as they ever say one thing and think another. They shew themselves to be
as sober, as temperate, as Curius the Roman was, and live every day as
though all their life were a shroving time. They be like their parents,
I say, inasmuch as they, in following them, seem and make men believe
they hate them. Thus grandfather Devil, father World, and mother
Hypocrisy, have brought them up. Thus good obedient sons have borne away
their parents' commandments; neither these be solitary, how religious,
how mocking, how monking, I would say, soever they be.
O ye will lay this to my charge, that _monachus_ and _solitarius_
signifieth all one. I grant this to be so, yet these be so solitary that
they be not alone, but accompanied with great flocks of fraternities. And
I marvel if there be not a great sort of bishops and prelates, that are
brethren germain unto these; and as a great sort, so even as right born,
and world's children by as good title as they. But because I cannot
speak of all, when I say prelates, I understand bishops, abbots, priors,
archdeacons, deans, and other of such sort, that are now called to this
convocation, as I see, to entreat here of nothing but of such matters as
both appertain to the glory of Christ, and to the wealth of the people of
England. Which thing I pray God they do as earnestly as they ought to
do. But it is to be feared lest, as light hath many her children here,
so the world hath sent some of his whelps hither; amongst the which I
know there can be no concord nor unity, albeit they be in one place, in
one congregation. I know there can be no agreement between these two, as
long as they have minds so unlike, and so contrary affections, judgments
so utterly diverse in all points. But if the children of this world be
either more in number, or more prudent than the children of light, what
then availeth us to have this convocation? Had it not been better we had
not been called together at all? For as the children of this world be
evil, so they breed and bring forth things evil; and yet there be more of
them in all places, or at the least they be more politic than the
children of light in their generation. And here I speak of the
generation whereby they do engender, and not of that whereby they are
engendered, because it should be too long to entreat how the children of
light are engendered, and how they come in at the door; and how the
children of the world be engendered, and come in another way. Howbeit, I
think all you that be here were not engendered after one generation,
neither that ye all came by your promotions after one manner: God grant
that ye, engendered worldly, do not engender worldly: and as now I much
pass not how ye were engendered, or by what means ye were promoted to
those dignities that ye now occupy, so it be honest, good and profitable,
that ye in this your consultation shall do and engender.
The end of your convocation shall shew what ye have done; the fruit that
shall come of your consultation shall shew what generation ye be of. For
what have ye done hitherto, I pray you, these seven years and more? What
have ye engendered? What have ye brought forth? What fruit is come of
your long and great assembly? What one thing that the people of England
hath been the better of a hair; or you yourselves, either more accepted
before God, or better discharged toward the people committed unto your
cure? For that the people is better learned and taught now, than they
were in time past, to whether of these ought we to attribute it, to your
industry, or to the providence of God, and the foreseeing of the king's
grace! Ought we to thank you, or the king's highness? Whether stirred
other first, you the king, that he might preach, or he you by his
letters, that ye should preach oftener? Is it unknown, think you, how
both ye and your curates were, in [a] manner, by violence enforced to let
books to be made, not by you, but by profane and lay persons; to let
them, I say, be sold abroad, and read for the instruction of the people?
I am bold with you, but I speak Latin and not English, to the clergy, not
to the laity; I speak to you being present, and not behind your backs.
God is my witness, I speak whatsoever is spoken of the good-will that I
bear you; God is my witness, which knoweth my heart, and compelleth me to
say that I say.
Now, I pray you in God's name, what did you, so great fathers, so many,
so long a season, so oft assembled together? What went you about? What
would ye have brought to pass? Two things taken away--the one, that ye
(which I heard) burned a dead man; the other, that ye (which I felt) went
about to burn one being alive: him, because he did, I cannot tell how, in
his testament withstand your profit; in other points, as I have heard, a
very good man; reported to be of an honest life while he lived, full of
good works, good both to the clergy, and also to the laity: this other,
which truly never hurt any of you, ye would have raked in the coals,
because he would not subscribe to certain articles that took away the
supremacy of the king:--take away these two noble acts, and there is
nothing else left that ye went about, that I know, saving that I now
remember, that somewhat ye attempted against Erasmus, albeit as yet
nothing is come to light. Ye have oft sat in consultation, but what have
ye done? Ye have had many things in deliberation, but what one is put
forth, whereby either Christ is more glorified, or else Christ's people
made more holy I appeal to your own conscience. How chanced this? How
came it thus? Because there were no children of light, no children of
God amongst you, which, setting the world at nought, would study to
illustrate the glory of God, and thereby shew themselves children of
light? I think not so, certainly I think not so. God forbid, that all
you, which were gathered together under the pretence of light, should be
children of the world! Then why happened this? Why, I pray you?
Perchance, either because the children of the world were more in number
in this your congregation, as it oft happeneth, or at the least of more
policy than the children of light in their generation: whereby it might
very soon be brought to pass, that these were much more stronger in
gendering the evil than these in producing the good. The children of
light have policy, but it is like the policy of the serpent, and is
joined with doveish simplicity. They engender nothing but simply,
faithfully, and plainly, even so doing all that they do. And therefore
they may with more facility be cumbered in their engendering, and be the
more ready to take injuries. But the children of this world have worldly
policy, foxly craft, lion-like cruelty, power to do hurt, more than
either _aspis_ or _basiliscus_, engendering and doing all things
fraudulently, deceitfully, guilefully: which as Nimrods and such sturdy
and stout hunters, being full of simulation and dissimulation before the
Lord, deceive the children of light, and cumber them easily. Hunters go
not forth in every man's sight, but do their affairs closely, and with
use of guile and deceit wax every day more craftier than other.
The children of this world be like crafty hunters; they be misnamed
children of light, forasmuch as they so hate light, and so study to do
the works of darkness. If they were the children of light, they would
not love darkness. It is no marvel that they go about to keep other in
darkness, seeing they be in darkness, from top to toe overwhelmed with
darkness, darker than is the darkness of hell. Wherefore it is well done
in all orders of men, but especial in the order of prelates, to put a
difference between children of light and children of the world, because
great deceit ariseth in taking the one for the other. Great imposture
cometh, when they that the common people take for the light, go about to
take the sun and the light out of the world. But these be easily known,
both by the diversity of minds, and also their armours. For whereas the
children of light are thus minded, that they seek their adversaries'
health, wealth, and profit, with loss of their own commodities, and
ofttimes with jeopardy of their life; the children of the world,
contrariwise, have such stomachs, that they will sooner see them dead
that doth them good, than sustain any loss of temporal things. The
armour of the children of light are, first, the word of God, which they
ever set forth, and with all diligence put it abroad, that, as much as in
them lieth, it may bring forth fruit: after this, patience and prayer,
with the which in all adversities the Lord comforteth them. Other things
they commit to God, unto whom they leave all revengement. The armour of
the children of the world are, sometime frauds and deceits, sometime lies
and money: by the first they make their dreams, their traditions; by the
second they stablish and confirm their dreams, be they never so absurd,
never so against scripture, honesty, or reason. And if any man resist
them, even with these weapons they procure to slay him. Thus they bought
Christ's death, the very light itself, and obscured him after his death:
thus they buy every day the children of light, and obscure them, and
shall so do, until the world be at an end. So that it may be ever true,
that Christ said: "The children of the world be wiser, &c."
These worldlings pull down the lively faith, and full confidence that men
have in Christ, and set up another faith, another confidence, of their
own making: the children of light contrary. These worldlings set little
by such works as God hath prepared for our salvation, but they extol
traditions and works of their own invention: the children of light
contrary. The worldlings, if they spy profit, gains, or lucre in any
thing, be it never such a trifle, be it never so pernicious, they preach
it to the people (if they preach at any time), and these things they
defend with tooth and nail. They can scarce disallow the abuses of
these, albeit they be intolerable, lest in disallowing the abuse they
lose part of their profit. The children of the light contrary, put all
things in their degree, best highest, next next, the worst lowest. They
extol things necessary, Christian, and commanded of God. They pull down
will-works feigned by men, and put them in their place. The abuses of
all things they earnestly rebuke. But yet these things be so done on
both parties, and so they both do gender, that the children of the world
shew themselves wiser than the children of light, and that frauds and
deceits, lies and money, seem evermore to have the upper hand. I hold my
peace; I will not say how fat feasts, and jolly banquets, be jolly
instruments to set forth worldly matters withal. Neither the children of
the world be only wiser than the children of light, but are also some of
them among themselves much wiser than the other in their generation. For
albeit, as touching the end, the generation of them all is one; yet in
this same generation some of them have more craftily engendered than the
other of their fellows.
For what a thing was that, that once every hundred year was brought forth
in Rome of the children of this world, and with how much policy it was
made, ye heard at Paul's Cross in the beginning of the last parliament:
how some brought forth canonizations, some expectations, some pluralities
and unions, some tot-quots and dispensations, some pardons, and these of
wonderful variety, some stationaries, some jubilaries, some pocularies
for drinkers, some manuaries for handlers of relicks, some pedaries for
pilgrims, some oscularies for kissers; some of them engendered one, some
other such fetures, and every one in that he was delivered of, was
excellent politic, wise; yea, so wise, that with their wisdom they had
almost made all the world fools.
But yet they that begot and brought forth that our old ancient purgatory
pick-purse; that that was swaged and cooled with a Franciscan's cowl, put
upon a dead man's back, to the fourth part of his sins; that that was
utterly to be spoiled, and of none other but of our most prudent lord
Pope, and of him as oft as him listed; that satisfactory, that missal,
that scalary: they, I say, that were the wise fathers and genitors of
this purgatory, were in my mind the wisest of all their generation, and
so far pass the children of light, and also the rest of their company,
that they both are but fools, if ye compare them with these. It was a
pleasant fiction, and from the beginning so profitable to the feigners of
it, that almost, I dare boldly say, there hath been no emperor that hath
gotten more by taxes and tallages of them that were alive, than these,
the very and right-begotten sons of the world, got by dead men's tributes
and gifts. If there be some in England, that would this sweeting of the
world to be with no less policy kept still than it was born and brought
forth in Rome, who then can accuse Christ of lying? No, no; as it hath
been ever true, so it shall be, that the children of the world be much
wiser, not only in making their things, but also in conserving them. I
wot not what it is, but somewhat it is I wot, that some men be so loth to
see the abuse of this monster, purgatory, which abuse is more than
abominable: as who should say, there is none abuse in it, or else as
though there can be none in it. They may seem heartily to love the old
thing, that thus earnestly endeavour them to restore him his old name.
They would not set an hair by the name, but for the thing. They be not
so ignorant (no, they be crafty), but that they know if the name come
again, the thing will come after. Thereby it ariseth, that some men make
their cracks, that they, maugre all men's heads, have found purgatory. I
cannot tell what is found. This, to pray for dead folks, this is not
found, for it was never lost. How can that be found that was not lost? O
subtle finders, that can find things, if God will, ere they be lost! For
that cowlish deliverance, their scalary losings, their papal spoliations,
and other such their figments, they cannot find. No, these be so lost,
as they themselves grant, that though they seek them never so diligently,
yet they shall not find them, except perchance they hope to see them come
in again with their names; and that then money-gathering may return
again, and deceit walk about the country, and so stablish their kingdom
in all kingdoms. But to what end this chiding between the children of
the world and the children of light will come, only he knoweth that once
shall judge them both.
Now, to make haste and to come somewhat nigher the end. Go ye to, good
brethren and fathers, for the love of God, go ye to; and seeing we are
here assembled, let us do something whereby we may be known to be the
children of light. Let us do somewhat, lest we, which hitherto have been
judged children of the world, seem even still to be so. All men call us
prelates: then, seeing we be in council, let us so order ourselves, that
we be prelates in honour and dignity; so we may be prelates in holiness,
benevolence, diligence, and sincerity. All men know that we be here
gathered, and with most fervent desire they anheale, breathe, and gape
for the fruit of our convocation: as our acts shall be, so they shall
name us: so that now it lieth in us, whether we will be called children
of the world, or children of light.
Wherefore lift up your heads, brethren, and look about with your eyes,
spy what things are to be reformed in the church of England. Is it so
hard, is it so great a matter for you to see many abuses in the clergy,
many in the laity? What is done in the Arches? Nothing to be amended?
What do they there? Do they evermore rid the people's business and
matters, or cumber and ruffle them? Do they evermore correct vice, or
else defend it, sometime being well corrected in other places? How many
sentences be given there in time, as they ought to be? If men say truth,
how many without bribes? Or if all things be well done there, what do
men in bishops' Consistories? Shall you often see the punishments
assigned by the laws executed, or else money-redemptions used in their
stead? How think you by the ceremonies that are in England, oft times,
with no little offence of weak consciences, contemned; more oftener with
superstition so defiled, and so depraved, that you may doubt whether it
were better some of them to tarry still, or utterly to take them away?
Have not our forefathers complained of the ceremonies, of the
superstition, and estimation of them?
Do ye see nothing in our holidays? of the which very few were made at the
first, and they to set forth goodness, virtue, and honesty: but sithens,
in some places, there is neither mean nor measure in making new holidays,
as who should say, this one thing is serving of God, to make this law,
that no man may work. But what doth the people on these holidays? Do
they give themselves to godliness, or else ungodliness? See ye nothing,
brethren? If you see not, yet God seeth. God seeth all the whole
holidays to be spent miserably in drunkenness, in glossing, in strife, in
envy, in dancing, dicing, idleness, and gluttony. He seeth all this, and
threateneth punishment for it. He seeth it, which neither is deceived in
seeing, nor deceiveth when he threateneth.
Thus men serve the devil; for God is not thus served, albeit ye say ye
serve God. No, the devil hath more service done unto him on one holiday,
than on many working days. Let all these abuses be counted as nothing,
who is he that is not sorry, to see in so many holidays rich and wealthy
persons to flow in delicates, and men that live by their travail, poor
men, to lack necessary meat and drink for their wives and their children,
and that they cannot labour upon the holidays, except they will be cited,
and brought before our Officials? Were it not the office of good
prelates to consult upon these matters, and to seek some remedy for them?
Ye shall see, my brethren, ye shall see once, what will come of this our
winking.
What think ye of these images that are had more than their fellows in
reputation; that are gone unto with such labour and weariness of the
body, frequented with such our cost, sought out and visited with such
confidence? What say ye by these images, that are so famous, so noble,
so noted, being of them so many and so divers in England? Do you think
that this preferring of picture to picture, image to image, is the right
use, and not rather the abuse, of images? But you will say to me, Why
make ye all these interrogations? and why, in these your demands, do you
let and withdraw the good devotion of the people? Be not all things well
done, that are done with good intent, when they be profitable to us? So,
surely, covetousness both thinketh and speaketh. Were it not better for
us, more for estimation, more meeter for men in our places, to cut away a
piece of this our profit, if we will not cut away all, than to wink at
such ungodliness, and so long to wink for a little lucre; specially if it
be ungodliness, and also seem unto you ungodliness? These be two things,
so oft to seek mere images, and sometime to visit the relicks of saints.
And yet, as in those there may be much ungodliness committed, so there
may here some superstition be hid, if that sometime we chance to visit
pigs' bones instead of saints' relicks, as in time past it hath chanced,
I had almost said, in England. Then this is too great a blindness, a
darkness too sensible, that these should be so commended in sermons of
some men, and preached to be done after such manner, as though they could
not be evil done; which, notwithstanding, are such, that neither God nor
man commandeth them to be done. No, rather, men commanded them either
not to be done at all, or else more slowlier and seldomer to be done,
forasmuch as our ancestors made this constitution: "We command the
priests that they oft admonish the people, and in especial women, that
they make no vows but after long deliberation, consent of their husbands
and counsel of the priest." The church of England in time past made this
constitution. What saw they that made this decree? They saw the
intolerable abuses of images. They saw the perils that might ensue of
going on pilgrimage. They saw the superstitious difference that men made
between image and image. Surely, somewhat they saw. The constitution is
so made, that in manner it taketh away all such pilgrimages. For it so
plucketh away the abuse of them, that it leaveth either none or else
seldom use of them. For they that restrain making vows for going of
pilgrimage, restrain also pilgrimage; seeing that for the most part it is
seen that few go on pilgrimage but vow-makers, and such as by promise
bind themselves to go. And when, I pray you, should a man's wife go on
pilgrimage, if she went not before she had well debated the matter with
herself, and obtained the consent of her husband, being a wise man, and
were also counselled by a learned priest so to do? When should she go
far off to these famous images? For this the common people of England
think to be going on pilgrimage; to go to some dead and notable image out
of town, that is to say, far from their house. Now if your forefathers
made this constitution, and yet thereby did nothing, the abuses every day
more and more increased, what is left for you to do? Brethren and
fathers, if ye purpose to do any thing, what should ye sooner do, than to
take utterly away these deceitful and juggling images; or else, if ye
know any other mean to put away abuses, to shew it, if ye intend to
remove abuses? Methink it should be grateful and pleasant to you to mark
the earnest mind of your forefathers, and to look upon their desire where
they say in their constitution, "We _command_ you," and not, "We
_counsel_ you." How have we been so long a-cold, so long slack in
setting forth so wholesome a precept of the church of England, where we
be so hot in all things that have any gains in them, albeit they be
neither commanded us, nor yet given us by counsel; as though we had lever
the abuse of things should tarry still than, it taken away, lose our
profit? To let pass the solemn and nocturnal bacchanals, the prescript
miracles, that are done upon certain days in the west part of England,
who hath not heard? I think ye have heard of St. Blesis's heart which is
at Malverne, and of St. Algar's bones, how long they deluded the people:
I am afraid, to the loss of many souls. Whereby men may well conjecture,
that all about in this realm there is plenty of such juggling deceits.
And yet hitherto ye have sought no remedy. But even still the miserable
people are suffered to take the false miracles for the true, and to lie
still asleep in all kind of superstition. God have mercy upon us!
Last of all, how think you of matrimony? Is all well here? What of
baptism? Shall we evermore in ministering of it speak Latin, and not in
English rather, that the people may know what is said and done?
What think ye of these mass-priests, and of the masses themselves? What
say ye? Be all things here so without abuses, that nothing ought to be
amended? Your forefathers saw somewhat, which made this constitution
against the venality and sale of masses, that, under pain of suspending,
no priest should sell his saying of tricennals or annals. What saw they,
that made this constitution? What priests saw they? What manner of
masses saw they, trow ye? But at the last, what became of so good a
constitution? God have mercy upon us! If there be nothing to be amended
abroad, concerning the whole, let every one of us make one better: if
there be neither abroad nor at home any thing to be amended and
redressed, my lords, be ye of good cheer, be merry; and at the least,
because we have nothing else to do, let us reason the matter how we may
be richer. Let us fall to some pleasant communication; after let us go
home, even as good as we came hither, that is, right-begotten children of
the world, and utterly worldlings. And while we live here, let us all
make bone cheer. For after this life there is small pleasure, little
mirth for us to hope for; if now there be nothing to be changed in our
fashions. Let us say, not as St. Peter did, "Our end approacheth nigh,"
this is an heavy hearing; but let us say as the evil servant said, "It
will be long ere my master come." This is pleasant. Let us beat our
fellows: let us eat and drink with drunkards. Surely, as oft as we do
not take away the abuse of things, so oft we beat our fellows. As oft as
we give not the people their true food, so oft we beat our fellows. As
oft as we let them die in superstition, so oft we beat them. To be
short, as oft as we blind lead them blind, so oft we beat, and grievously
beat our fellows. When we welter in pleasures and idleness, then we eat
and drink with drunkards. But God will come, God will come, he will not
tarry long away. He will come upon such a day as we nothing look for
him, and at such hour as we know not. He will come and cut us in pieces.
He will reward us as he doth the hypocrites. He will set us where
wailing shall be, my brethren; where gnashing of teeth shall be, my
brethren. And let here be the end of our tragedy, if ye will. These be
the delicate dishes prepared for the world's well-beloved children. These
be the wafers and junkets provided for worldly prelates--wailing and
gnashing of teeth. Can there be any mirth, where these two courses last
all the feast? Here we laugh, there we shall weep. Our teeth make merry
here, ever dashing in delicates; there we shall be torn with teeth, and
do nothing but gnash and grind our own. To what end have we now excelled
other in policy? What have we brought forth at the last? Ye see,
brethren, what sorrow, what punishment is provided for you, if ye be
worldlings. If ye will not thus be vexed, be ye not the children of the
world. If ye will not be the children of the world, be not stricken with
the love of worldly things; lean not upon them. If ye will not die
eternally, live not worldly. Come, go to; leave the love of your profit;
study for the glory and profit of Christ; seek in your consultations such
things as pertain to Christ, and bring forth at the last somewhat that
may please Christ. Feed ye tenderly, with all diligence, the flock of
Christ. Preach truly the word of God. Love the light, walk in the
light, and so be ye the children of light while ye are in this world,
that ye may shine in the world that is to come bright as the sun, with
the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; to whom be all honour, praise,
and glory. Amen.
A SERMON OF THE REVEREND FATHER MASTER HUGH LATIMER, PREACHED IN THE
SHROUDS AT ST. PAUL'S CHURCH IN LONDON, ON THE EIGHTEENTH DAY OF JANUARY,
ANNO 1548.
_Quaeunque scripta sunt ad nostram doctrinam scripta sunt_.--Rom. xv.
4.
"All things which are written, are written for our erudition and
knowledge. All things that are written in God's book, in the Bible
book, in the book of the holy scripture, are written to be our
doctrine."
I told you in my first sermon, honourable audience, that I purposed to
declare unto you two things. The one, what seed should be sown in God's
field, in God's plough land; and the other, who should be the sowers:
that is to say, what doctrine is to be taught in Christ's church and
congregation, and what men should be the teachers and preachers of it.
The first part I have told you in the three sermons past, in which I have
assayed to set forth my plough, to prove what I could do. And now I
shall tell you who be the ploughers: for God's word is a seed to be sown
in God's field, that is, the faithful congregation, and the preacher is
the sower. And it is in the gospel: _Exivit qui seminat seminare semen
suum_; "He that soweth, the husbandman, the ploughman, went forth to sow
his seed." So that a preacher is resembled to a ploughman, as it is in
another place: _Nemo admota aratro manu, et a tergo respiciens, aptus est
regno Dei_. "No man that putteth his hand to the plough, and looketh
back, is apt for the kingdom of God." That is to say, let no preacher be
negligent in doing his office. Albeit this is one of the places that
hath been racked, as I told you of racking scriptures. And I have been
one of them myself that hath racked it, I cry God mercy for it; and have
been one of them that have believed and expounded it against religious
persons that would forsake their order which they had professed, and
would go out of their cloister: whereas indeed it toucheth not monkery,
nor maketh any thing at all for any such matter; but it is directly
spoken of diligent preaching of the word of God.
For preaching of the gospel is one of God's plough-works, and the
preacher is one of God's ploughmen. Ye may not be offended with my
similitude, in that I compare preaching to the labour and work of
ploughing, and the preacher to a ploughman: ye may not be offended with
this my similitude; for I have been slandered of some persons for such
things. It hath been said of me, "Oh, Latimer! nay, as for him, I will
never believe him while I live, nor never trust him; for he likened our
blessed lady to a saffron-bag:" where indeed I never used that
similitude. But it was, as I have said unto you before now, according to
that which Peter saw before in the spirit of prophecy, and said, that
there should come after men _per quos via veritatis maledictis
afficeretur_; there should come fellows "by whom the way of truth should
be evil spoken of, and slandered." But in case I had used this
similitude, it had not been to be reproved, but might have been without
reproach. For I might have said thus: as the saffron-bag that hath been
full of saffron, or hath had saffron in it, doth ever after savour and
smell of the sweet saffron that it contained; so our blessed lady, which
conceived and bare Christ in her womb, did ever after resemble the
manners and virtues of that precious babe that she bare. And what had
our blessed lady been the worse for this? or what dishonour was this to
our blessed lady? But as preachers must be wary and circumspect, that
they give not any just occasion to be slandered and ill spoken of by the
hearers, so must not the auditors be offended without cause. For heaven
is in the gospel likened to a mustard-seed: it is compared also to a
piece of leaven; and as Christ saith, that at the last day he will come
like a thief: and what dishonour is this to God? or what derogation is
this to heaven? Ye may not then, I say, be offended with my similitude,
for because I liken preaching to a ploughman's labour, and a prelate to a
ploughman. But now you will ask me, whom I call a prelate? A prelate is
that man, whatsoever he be, that hath a flock to be taught of him;
whosoever hath any spiritual charge in the faithful congregation, and
whosoever he be that hath cure of souls. And well may the preacher and
the ploughman be likened together: first, for their labour of all seasons
of the year; for there is no time of the year in which the ploughman hath
not some special work to do: as in my country in Leicestershire, the
ploughman hath a time to set forth, and to assay his plough, and other
times for other necessary works to be done. And then they also maybe
likened together for the diversity of works and variety of offices that
they have to do. For as the ploughman first setteth forth his plough,
and then tilleth his land, and breaketh it in furrows, and sometime
ridgeth it up again; and at another time harroweth it and clotteth it,
and sometime dungeth it and hedgeth it, diggeth it and weedeth it,
purgeth and maketh it clean: so the prelate, the preacher, hath many
diverse offices to do. He hath first a busy work to bring his
parishioners to a right faith, as Paul calleth it, and not a swerving
faith; but to a faith that embraceth Christ, and trusteth to his merits;
a lively faith, a justifying faith; a faith that maketh a man righteous,
without respect of works: as ye have it very well declared and set forth
in the Homily. He hath then a busy work, I say, to bring his flock to a
right faith, and then to confirm them in the same faith: now casting them
down with the law, and with threatenings of God for sin; now ridging them
up again with the gospel, and with the promises of God's favour: now
weeding them, by telling them their faults, and making them forsake sin;
now clotting them, by breaking their stony hearts, and by making them
supplehearted, and making them to have hearts of flesh; that is, soft
hearts, and apt for doctrine to enter in: now teaching to know God
rightly, and to know their duty to God and their neighbours: now
exhorting them, when they know their duty, that they do it, and be
diligent in it; so that they have a continual work to do. Great is their
business, and therefore great should be their hire. They have great
labours, and therefore they ought to have good livings, that they may
commodiously feed their flock; for the preaching of the word of God unto
the people is called meat: scripture calleth it meat; not strawberries,
that come but once a year, and tarry not long, but are soon gone: but it
is meat, it is no dainties. The people must have meat that must be
familiar and continual, and daily given unto them to feed upon. Many
make a strawberry of it, ministering it but once a year; but such do not
the office of good prelates. For Christ saith, _Quis putas est servus
prudens et fidelis_? _Qui dat cibum in tempore_. "Who think you is a
wise and faithful servant? He that giveth meat in due time." So that he
must at all times convenient preach diligently: therefore saith he, "Who
trow ye is a faithful servant?" He speaketh it as though it were a rare
thing to find such a one, and as though he should say, there be but a few
of them to find in the world. And how few of them there be throughout
this realm that give meat to their flock as they should do, the Visitors
can best tell. Too few, too few; the more is the pity, and never so few
as now.
By this, then, it appeareth that a prelate, or any that hath cure of
soul, must diligently and substantially work and labour. Therefore saith
Paul to Timothy, _Qui episcopatum desiderat, hic bonum opus desiderat_:
"He that desireth to have the office of a bishop, or a prelate, that man
desireth a good work." Then if it be a good work, it is work; ye can
make but a work of it. It is God's work, God's plough, and that plough
God would have still going. Such then as loiter and live idly, are not
good prelates, or ministers. And of such as do not preach and teach, nor
do their duties, God saith by his prophet Jeremy, _Maledictus qui facit
opus Dei fraudulenter_; "Cursed be the man that doth the work of God
fraudulently, guilefully or deceitfully:" some books have it
_negligenter_, "negligently or slackly." How many such prelates, how
many such bishops, Lord, for thy mercy, are there now in England! And
what shall we in this case do? shall we company with them? O Lord, for
thy mercy! shall we not company with them? O Lord, whither shall we flee
from them? But "cursed be he that doth the work of God negligently or
guilefully." A sore word for them that are negligent in discharging
their office, or have done it fraudulently; for that is the thing that
maketh the people ill.
But true it must be that Christ saith, _Multi sunt vocati, pauci vero
electi_: "Many are called, but few are chosen." Here have I an occasion
by the way somewhat to say unto you; yea, for the place I alleged unto
you before out of Jeremy, the forty-eighth chapter. And it was spoken of
a spiritual work of God, a work that was commanded to be done; and it was
of shedding blood, and of destroying the cities of Moab. For, saith he,
"Cursed be he that keepeth back his sword from shedding of blood." As
Saul, when he kept back the sword from shedding of blood at what time he
was sent against Amaleck, was refused of God for being disobedient to
God's commandment, in that he spared Agag the king. So that that place
of the prophet was spoken of them that went to the destruction of the
cities of Moab, among the which there was one called Nebo, which was much
reproved for idolatry, superstition, pride, avarice, cruelty, tyranny,
and for hardness of heart; and for these sins was plagued of God and
destroyed.
Now what shall we say of these rich citizens of London? What shall I say
of them? Shall I call them proud men of London, malicious men of London,
merciless men of London? No, no, I may not say so; they will be offended
with me then. Yet must I speak. For is there not reigning in London as
much pride, as much covetousness, as much cruelty, as much oppression,
and as much superstition, as was in Nebo? Yes, I think, and much more
too. Therefore I say, repent, O London; repent, repent. Thou hearest
thy faults told thee, amend them, amend them. I think, if Nebo had had
the preaching that thou hast, they would have converted. And, you rulers
and officers, be wise and circumspect, look to your charge, and see you
do your duties; and rather be glad to amend your ill living than to be
angry when you are warned or told of your fault. What ado was there made
in London at a certain man, because he said, (and indeed at that time on
a just cause,) "Burgesses!" quoth he, "nay, Butterflies." Lord, what ado
there was for that word! And yet would God they were no worse than
butterflies! Butterflies do but their nature: the butterfly is not
covetous, is not greedy, of other men's goods; is not full of envy and
hatred, is not malicious, is not cruel, is not merciless. The butterfly
glorieth not in her own deeds, nor preferreth the traditions of men
before God's word; it committeth not idolatry, nor worshippeth false
gods. But London cannot abide to be rebuked; such is the nature of man.
If they be pricked, they will kick; if they be rubbed on the gall, they
will wince; but yet they will not amend their faults, they will not be
ill spoken of. But how shall I speak well of them? If you could be
content to receive and follow the word of God, and favour good preachers,
if you could bear to be told of your faults, if you could amend when you
hear of them, if you would be glad to reform that is amiss; if I might
see any such inclination in you, that you would leave to be merciless,
and begin to be charitable, I would then hope well of you, I would then
speak well of you. But London was never so ill as it is now. In times
past men were full of pity and compassion, but now there is no pity; for
in London their brother shall die in the streets for cold, he shall lie
sick at the door between stock and stock, I cannot tell what to call it,
and perish there for hunger: was there ever more unmercifulness in Nebo?
I think not. In times past, when any rich man died in London, they were
wont to help the poor scholars of the Universities with exhibition. When
any man died, they would bequeath great sums of money toward the relief
of the poor. When I was a scholar in Cambridge myself; I heard very good
report of London, and knew many that had relief of the rich men of
London: but now I can hear no such good report, and yet I inquire of it,
and hearken for it; but now charity is waxen cold, none helpeth the
scholar, nor yet the poor. And in those days, what did they when they
helped the scholars? Marry, they maintained and gave them livings that
were very papists, and professed the pope's doctrine: and now that the
knowledge of God's word is brought to light, and many earnestly study and
labour to set it forth, now almost no man helpeth to maintain them.
Oh London, London! repent, repent; for I think God is more displeased
with London than ever he was with the city of Nebo. Repent therefore,
repent, London, and remember that the same God liveth now that punished
Nebo, even the same God, and none other; and he will punish sin as well
now as he did then: and he will punish the iniquity of London, as well as
he did then of Nebo. Amend therefore. And ye that be prelates, look
well to your office, for right prelating is busy labouring, and not
lording. Therefore preach and teach, and let your plough be doing. Ye
lords, I say, that live like loiterers, look well to your office; the
plough is your office and charge. If you live idle and loiter, you do
not your duty, you follow not your vocation: let your plough therefore be
going, and not cease, that the ground may bring forth fruit.
But now methinketh I hear one say unto me: Wot ye what you say? Is it a
work? Is it a labour? How then hath it happened that we have had so
many hundred years so many unpreaching prelates, lording loiterers, and
idle ministers? Ye would have me here to make answer, and to show cause
thereof. Nay, this land is not for me to plough; it is too stony, too
thorny, too hard for me to plough. They have so many things that make
for them, so many things to lay for themselves, that it is not for my
weak team to plough them. They have to lay for themselves long customs,
ceremonies and authority, placing in parliament, and many things more.
And I fear me this land is not yet ripe to be ploughed: for, as the
saying is, it lacketh weathering: this gear lacketh weathering; at least
way it is not for me to plough. For what shall I look for among thorns,
but pricking and scratching? What among stones, but stumbling? What (I
had almost said) among serpents, but stinging? But this much I dare say,
that since lording and loitering hath come up, preaching hath come down,
contrary to the apostles' times: for they preached and lorded not, and
now they lord and preach not. For they that be lords will ill go to
plough: it is no meet office for them; it is not seeming for their
estate. Thus came up lording loiterers: thus crept in unpreaching
prelates; and so have they long continued. For how many unlearned
prelates have we now at this day! And no marvel: for if the ploughmen
that now be were made lords, they would clean give over ploughing; they
would leave off their labour, and fall to lording outright, and let the
plough stand: and then both ploughs not walking, nothing should be in the
commonweal but hunger. For ever since the prelates were made lords and
nobles, the plough standeth; there is no work done, the people starve.
They hawk, they hunt, they card, they dice; they pastime in their
prelacies with gallant gentlemen, with their dancing minions, and with
their fresh companions, so that ploughing is set aside: and by their
lording and loitering, preaching and ploughing is clean gone. And thus
if the ploughmen of the country were as negligent in their office as
prelates be, we should not long live, for lack of sustenance. And as it
is necessary for to have this ploughing for the sustentation of the body,
so must we have also the other for the satisfaction of the soul, or else
we cannot live long ghostly. For as the body wasteth and consumeth away
for lack of bodily meat, so doth the soul pine away for default of
ghostly meat. But there be two kinds of inclosing, to let or hinder both
these kinds of ploughing: the one is an inclosing to let or hinder the
bodily ploughing, and the other to let or hinder the holiday-ploughing,
the church-ploughing.
The bodily ploughing is taken in and inclosed through singular commodity.
For what man will let go, or diminish his private commodity for a
commonwealth? And who will sustain any damage for the respect of a
public commodity? The other plough also no man is diligent to set
forward, nor no man will hearken to it. But to hinder and let it all
men's ears are open; yea, and a great many of this kind of ploughmen,
which are very busy, and would seem to be very good workmen. I fear me
some be rather mock-gospellers, than faithful ploughmen. I know many
myself that profess the gospel, and live nothing thereafter. I know
them, and have been conversant with some of them. I know them, and (I
speak it with a heavy heart) there is as little charity and good living
in them as in any other; according to that which Christ said in the
gospel to the great number of people that followed him, as though they
had had any earnest zeal to his doctrine, whereas indeed they had it not;
_Non quia vidistis signa, sed quia comedistis de panibus_. "Ye follow
me," saith he, "not because ye have seen the signs and miracles that I
have done; but because ye have eaten the bread, and refreshed your
bodies, therefore you follow me." So that I think many one now-a-days
professeth the gospel for the living's sake, not for the love they bear
to God's word. But they that will be true ploughmen must work faithfully
for God's sake, for the edifying of their brethren. And as diligently as
the husbandman plougheth for the sustentation of the body, so diligently
must the prelates and ministers labour for the feeding of the soul: both
the ploughs must still be going, as most necessary for man. And
wherefore are magistrates ordained, but that the tranquillity of the
commonweal may be confirmed, limiting both ploughs?
But now for the fault of unpreaching prelates, methink I could guess what
might be said for excusing of them. They are so troubled with lordly
living, they be so placed in palaces, crouched in courts, ruffling in
their rents, dancing in their dominions, burdened with ambassages,
pampering of their paunches, like a monk that maketh his jubilee;
munching in their mangers, and moiling in their gay manors and mansions,
and so troubled with loitering in their lordships, that they cannot
attend it. They are otherwise occupied, some in king's matters, some are
ambassadors, some of the privy council, some to furnish the court, some
are lords of the parliament, some are presidents, and comptrollers of
mints.
Well, well, is this their duty? Is this their office? Is this their
calling? Should we have ministers of the church to be comptrollers of
the mints? Is this a meet office for a priest that hath cure of souls?
Is this his charge? I would here ask one question: I would fain know who
controlleth the devil at home in his parish, while he controlleth the
mint? If the apostles might not leave the office of preaching to the
deacons, shall one leave it for minting? I cannot tell you; but the
saying is, that since priests have been minters, money hath been worse
than it was before. And they say that the evilness of money hath made
all things dearer. And in this behalf I must speak to England. "Hear,
my country, England," as Paul said in his first epistle to the
Corinthians, the sixth chapter; for Paul was no sitting bishop, but a
walking and a preaching bishop. But when he went from them, he left
there behind him the plough going still; for he wrote unto them, and
rebuked them for going to law, and pleading their causes before heathen
judges: "Is there," said he, "utterly among you no wise man, to be an
arbitrator in matters of judgment? What, not one of all that can judge
between brother and brother; but one brother goeth to law with another,
and that under heathen judges? _Constituite contemptos qui sunt in
ecclesia_, &c. Appoint them judges that are most abject and vile in the
congregation." Which he speaketh in rebuking them; "For," saith he, _ad
erubescentiam vestram dico_--"I speak it to your shame." So, England, I
speak it to thy shame: is there never a nobleman to be a lord president,
but it must be a prelate? Is there never a wise man in the realm to be a
comptroller of the mint? I speak it to your shame. I speak it to your
shame. If there be never a wise man, make a water-bearer, a tinker, a
cobbler, a slave, a page, comptroller of the mint: make a mean gentleman,
a groom, a yeoman, or a poor beggar, lord president.
Thus I speak, not that I would have it so; but "to your shame," if there
be never a gentleman meet nor able to be lord president. For why are not
the noblemen and young gentlemen of England so brought up in knowledge of
God, and in learning, that they may be able to execute offices in the
commonweal? The king hath a great many of wards, and I trow there is a
Court of Wards: why is there not a school for the wards, as well as there
is a Court for their lands? Why are they not set in schools where they
may learn? Or why are they not sent to the universities, that they may
be able to serve the king when they come to age? If the wards and young
gentlemen were well brought up in learning, and in the knowledge of God,
they would not when they come to age so much give themselves to other
vanities. And if the nobility be well trained in godly learning, the
people would follow the same train. For truly, such as the noblemen be,
such will the people be. And now, the only cause why noblemen be not
made lord presidents, is because they have not been brought up in
learning.
Therefore for the love of God appoint teachers and schoolmasters, you
that have charge of youth; and give the teachers stipends worthy their
pains, that they may bring them up in grammar, in logic, in rhetoric, in
philosophy, in the civil law, and in that which I cannot leave unspoken
of, the word of God. Thanks be unto God, the nobility otherwise is very
well brought up in learning and godliness, to the great joy and comfort
of England; so that there is now good hope in the youth, that we shall
another day have a flourishing commonweal, considering their godly
education. Yea, and there be already noblemen enough, though not so many
as I could wish, able to be lord presidents, and wise men enough for the
mint. And as unmeet a thing it is for bishops to be lord presidents, or
priests to be minters, as it was for the Corinthians to plead matters of
variance before heathen judges. It is also a slander to the noblemen, as
though they lacked wisdom and learning to be able for such offices, or
else were no men of conscience, or else were not meet to be trusted, and
able for such offices. And a prelate hath a charge and cure otherwise;
and therefore he cannot discharge his duty and be a lord president too.
For a presidentship requireth a whole man; and a bishop cannot be two
men. A bishop hath his office, a flock to teach, to look unto; and
therefore he cannot meddle with another office, which alone requireth a
whole man: he should therefore give it over to whom it is meet, and
labour in his own business; as Paul writeth to the Thessalonians, "Let
every man do his own business, and follow his calling." Let the priest
preach, and the noblemen handle the temporal matters. Moses was a
marvellous man, a good man: Moses was a wonderful fellow, and did his
duty, being a married man: we lack such as Moses was. Well, I would all
men would look to their duty, as God hath called them, and then we should
have a flourishing christian commonweal.
And now I would ask a strange question: who is the most diligentest
bishop and prelate in all England, that passeth all the rest in doing his
office? I can tell, for I know him who it is; I know him well. But now
I think I see you listening and hearkening that I should name him. There
is one that passeth all the other, and is the most diligent prelate and
preacher in all England. And will ye know who it is? I will tell you:
it is the devil. He is the most diligent preacher of all other; he is
never out of his diocess; he is never from his cure; ye shall never find
him unoccupied; he is ever in his parish; he keepeth residence at all
times; ye shall never find him out of the way, call for him when you will
he is ever at home; the diligentest preacher in all the realm; he is ever
at his plough: no lording nor loitering can hinder him; he is ever
applying his business, ye shall never find him idle, I warrant you. And
his office is to hinder religion, to maintain superstition, to set up
idolatry, to teach all kind of popery. He is ready as he can be wished
for to set forth his plough; to devise as many ways as can be to deface
and obscure God's glory. Where the devil is resident, and hath his
plough going, there away with books, and up with candles; away with
bibles, and up with beads; away with the light of the gospel, and up with
the light of candles, yea, at noon-days. Where the devil is resident,
that he may prevail, up with all superstition and idolatry; censing,
painting of images, candles, palms, ashes, holy water, and new service of
men's inventing; as though man could invent a better way to honour God
with than God himself hath appointed. Down with Christ's cross, up with
purgatory pick-purse, up with him, the popish purgatory, I mean. Away
with clothing the naked, the poor and impotent; up with decking of
images, and gay garnishing of stocks and stones: up with man's traditions
and his laws, down with God's traditions and his most holy word. Down
with the old honour due to God, and up with the new god's honour. Let
all things be done in Latin: there must be nothing but Latin, not so much
as _Memento, homo, quod cinis es, et in cinerem reverteris_: "Remember,
man, that thou art ashes, and into ashes thou shalt return:" which be the
words that the minister speaketh unto the ignorant people, when he giveth
them ashes upon Ash-Wednesday; but it must be spoken in Latin: God's word
may in no wise be translated into English.
Oh that our prelates would be as diligent to sow the corn of good
doctrine, as Satan is to sow cockle and darnel! And this is the devilish
ploughing, the which worketh to have things in Latin, and letteth the
fruitful edification. But here some man will say to me, What, sir, are
ye so privy of the devil's counsel, that ye know all this to be true?
Truly I know him too well, and have obeyed him a little too much in
condescending to some follies; and I know him as other men do, yea, that
he is ever occupied, and ever busy in following his plough. I know by
St. Peter, which saith of him, _Sicut leo rugiens circuit quaerens quem
devoret_: "He goeth about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may
devour." I would have this text well viewed and examined, every word of
it: "_Circuit_," he goeth about in every corner of his diocess; he goeth
on visitation daily, he leaveth no place of his cure unvisited: he
walketh round about from place to place, and ceaseth not. "_Sicut leo_,"
as a lion, that is, strongly, boldly, and proudly; stately and fiercely
with haughty looks, with his proud countenances, with his stately
braggings. "_Rugiens_," roaring; for he letteth not slip any occasion to
speak or to roar out when he seeth his time. "_Quaerens_," he goeth
about seeking, and not sleeping, as our bishops do; but he seeketh
diligently, he searcheth diligently all corners, where as he may have his
prey. He roveth abroad in every place of his diocess; he standeth not
still, he is never at rest, but ever in hand with his plough, that it may
go forward. But there was never such a preacher in England as he is. Who
is able to tell his diligent preaching, which every day, and every hour,
laboureth to sow cockle and darnel, that he may bring out of form, and
out of estimation and room, the institution of the Lord's supper, and
Christ's cross? For there he lost his right; for Christ said, _Nunc
judicium est mundi, princeps seculi hujus ejicietur foras. Et sicut
exaltarit Moses serpentem in deserto, ita exaltari oportet Filium
hominis. Et cum exaltatus fuero a terra, omnia traham ad meipsum_. "Now
is the judgment of this world, and the prince of this world shall be cast
out. And as Moses did lift up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the
Son of man be lift up. And when I shall be lift up from the earth, I
will draw all things unto myself." For the devil was disappointed of his
purpose: for he thought all to be his own; and when he had once brought
Christ to the cross, he thought all cocksure. But there lost he all
reigning: for Christ said, _Omnia traham ad meipsum_: "I will draw all
things to myself." He meaneth, drawing of man's soul to salvation. And
that he said he would do _per semetipsum_, by his own self; not by any
other body's sacrifice. He meant by his own sacrifice on the cross,
where he offered himself for the redemption of mankind; and not the
sacrifice of the mass to be offered by another. For who can offer him
but himself? He was both the offerer and the offering. And this is the
prick, this is the mark at the which the devil shooteth, to evacuate the
cross of Christ, and to mingle the institution of the Lord's supper; the
which although he cannot bring to pass, yet he goeth about by his
sleights and subtil means to frustrate the same; and these fifteen
hundred years he hath been a doer, only purposing to evacuate Christ's
death, and to make it of small efficacy and virtue. For whereas Christ,
according as the serpent was lifted up in the wilderness, so would he
himself be exalted, that thereby as many as trusted in him should have
salvation; but the devil would none of that: they would have us saved by
a daily oblation propitiatory, by a sacrifice expiatory, or remissory.
Now if I should preach in the country, among the unlearned, I would tell
what propitiatory, expiatory, and remissory is; but here is a learned
auditory: yet for them that be unlearned I will expound it. Propitiatory,
expiatory, remissory, or satisfactory, for they signify all one thing in
effect, and is nothing else but a thing whereby to obtain remission of
sins, and to have salvation. And this way the devil used to evacuate the
death of Christ, that we might have affiance in other things, as in the
sacrifice of the priest; whereas Christ would have us to trust in his
only sacrifice. So he was, _Agnus occisus ab origine mundi_; "The Lamb
that hath been slain from the beginning of the world;" and therefore he
is called _juge sacrificium_, "a continual sacrifice;" and not for the
continuance of the mass, as the blanchers have blanched it, and wrested
it; and as I myself did once betake it. But Paul saith, _per semetipsum
purgatio facta_: "By himself," and by none other, Christ "made purgation"
and satisfaction for the whole world.
Would Christ this word, "by himself," had been better weighed and looked
upon, and _in sanctificationem_, to make them holy; for he is _juge
sacrificium_, "a continual sacrifice," in effect, fruit, and operation;
that like as they, which seeing the serpent hang up in the desert, were
put in remembrance of Christ's death, in whom as many as believed were
saved; so all men that trusted in the death of Christ shall be saved, as
well they that were before, as they that came after. For he was a
continual sacrifice, as I said, in effect, fruit, operation, and virtue;
as though he had from the beginning of the world, and continually should
to the world's end, hang still on the cross; and he is as fresh hanging
on the cross now, to them that believe and trust in him, as he was
fifteen hundred years ago, when he was crucified.
Then let us trust upon his only death, and look for none other sacrifice
propitiatory, than the same bloody sacrifice, the lively sacrifice; and
not the dry sacrifice, but a bloody sacrifice. For Christ himself said,
_consummatum est_: "It is perfectly finished: I have taken at my Father's
hand the dispensation of redeeming mankind, I have wrought man's
redemption, and have despatched the matter." Why then mingle ye him? Why
do ye divide him? Why make you of him more sacrifices than one? Paul
saith, _Pascha nostrum immolatus est Christus_: "Christ our passover is
offered;" so that the thing is done, and Christ hath done it _semel_,
once for all; and it was a bloody sacrifice, not a dry sacrifice. Why
then, it is not the mass that availeth or profiteth for the quick and the
dead.
Wo worth thee, O devil, wo worth thee, that hast prevailed so far and so
long; that hast made England to worship false gods, forsaking Christ
their Lord. Wo worth thee, devil, wo worth thee, devil, and all thy
angels. If Christ by his death draweth all things to himself, and
draweth all men to salvation, and to heavenly bliss, that trust in him;
then the priests at the mass, at the popish mass, I say, what can they
draw, when Christ draweth all, but lands and goods from the right heirs?
The priests draw goods and riches, benefices and promotions to
themselves; and such as believed in their sacrifices they draw to the
devil. But Christ is he that draweth souls unto him by his bloody
sacrifice. What have we to do then but _epulari in Domino_, to eat in
the Lord at his supper? What other service have we to do to him, and
what other sacrifice have we to offer, but the mortification of our
flesh? What other oblation have we to make, but of obedience, of good
living, of good works, and of helping our neighbours? But as for our
redemption, it is done already, it cannot be better: Christ hath done
that thing so well, that it cannot be amended. It cannot be devised how
to make that any better than he hath done it. But the devil, by the help
of that Italian bishop yonder, his chaplain, hath laboured by all means
that he might to frustrate the death of Christ and the merits of his
passion. And they have devised for that purpose to make us believe in
other vain things by his pardons; as to have remission of sins for
praying on hallowed beads; for drinking of the bakehouse bowl; as a canon
of Waltham Abbey once told me, that whensoever they put their loaves of
bread into the oven, as many as drank of the pardon-bowl should have
pardon for drinking of it. A mad thing, to give pardon to a bowl! Then
to pope Alexander's holy water, to hallowed bells, palms, candles, ashes,
and what not? And of these things, every one hath taken away some part
of Christ's sanctification; every one hath robbed some part of Christ's
passion and cross, and hath mingled Christ's death, and hath been made to
be propitiatory and satisfactory, and to put away sin. Yea, and
Alexander's holy water yet at this day remaineth in England, and is used
for a remedy against spirits and to chase away devils; yea, and I would
this had been the worst. I would this were the worst. But wo worth
thee, O devil, that has prevailed to evacuate Christ's cross, and to
mingle the Lord's supper. These be the Italian bishop's devices, and the
devil hath pricked at this mark to frustrate the cross of Christ: he shot
at this mark long before Christ came, he shot at it four thousand years
before Christ hanged on the cross, or suffered his passion.
For the brasen serpent was set up in the wilderness, to put men in
remembrance of Christ's coming; that like as they which beheld the brasen
serpent were healed of their bodily diseases, so they that looked
spiritually upon Christ that was to come, in him should be saved
spiritually from the devil. The serpent was set up in memory of Christ
to come; but the devil found means to steal away the memory of Christ's
coining, and brought the people to worship the serpent itself, and to
cense him, to honour him, and to offer to him, to worship him, and to
make an idol of him. And this was done by the market-men that I told you
of. And the clerk of the market did it for the lucre and advantage of
his master, that thereby his honour might increase; for by Christ's death
he could have but small worldly advantage. And so even now so hath he
certain blanchers belonging to the market, to let and stop the light of
the gospel, and to hinder the king's proceedings in setting forth the
word and glory of God. And when the king's majesty, with the advice of
his honourable council, goeth about to promote God's word, and to set an
order in matters of religion, there shall not lack blanchers that will
say, "As for images, whereas they have used to be censed, and to have
candles offered unto to them, none be so foolish to do it to the stock or
stone, or to the image itself; but it is done to God and his honour
before the image." And though they should abuse it, these blanchers will
be ready to whisper the king in the ear, and to tell him, that this abuse
is but a small matter; and that the same, with all other like abuses in
the church, may be reformed easily. "It is but a little abuse," say
they, "and it may be easily amended. But it should not be taken in hand
at the first, for fear of trouble or further inconveniences. The people
will not bear sudden alterations; an insurrection may be made after
sudden mutation, which may be to the great harm and loss of the realm.
Therefore all things shall be well, but not out of hand, for fear of
further business." These be the blanchers, that hitherto have stopped
the word of God, and hindered the true setting forth of the same. There
be so many put-offs, so many put-byes, so many respects and
considerations of worldly wisdom: and I doubt not but there were
blanchers in the old time to whisper in the ear of good king Hezekiah,
for the maintenance of idolatry done to the brasen serpent, as well as
there hath been now of late, and be now, that can blanch the abuse of
images, and other like things. But good king Hezekiah would not be so
blinded; he was like to Apollos, "fervent in spirit." He would give no
ear to the blanchers; he was not moved with the worldly respects, with
these prudent considerations, with these policies: he feared not
insurrections of the people: he feared not lest his people would bear not
the glory of God; but he, without any of these respects, or policies, or
considerations, like a good king, for God's sake and for conscience sake,
by and by plucked down the brasen serpent, and destroyed it utterly, and
beat it to powder. He out of hand did cast out all images, he destroyed
all idolatry, and clearly did extirpate all superstition. He would not
hear these blanchers and worldly-wise men, but without delay followeth
God's cause, and destroyeth all idolatry out of hand. Thus did good king
Hezekiah; for he was like Apollos, fervent in spirit, and diligent, to
promote God's glory.
And good hope there is, that it shall be likewise here in England; for
the king's majesty is so brought up in knowledge, virtue, and godliness,
that it is not to be mistrusted but that we shall have all things well,
and that the glory of God shall be spread abroad throughout all parts of
the realm, if the prelates will diligently apply their plough, and be
preachers rather than lords. But our blanchers, which will be lords, and
no labourers, when they are commanded to go and be resident upon their
cures, and preach in their benefices, they would say, "What? I have set
a deputy there; I have a deputy that looketh well to my flock, and the
which shall discharge my duty." "A deputy," quoth he! I looked for that
word all this while. And what a deputy must he be, trow ye? Even one
like himself: he must be a canonist; that is to say, one that is brought
up in the study of the pope's laws and decrees; one that will set forth
papistry as well as himself will do; and one that will maintain all
superstition and idolatry; and one that will nothing at all, or else very
weakly, resist the devil's plough: yea, happy it is if he take no part
with the devil; and where he should be an enemy to him, it is well if he
take not the devil's part against Christ.
But in the meantime the prelates take their pleasures. They are lords,
and no labourers: but the devil is diligent at his plough. He is no
unpreaching prelate: he is no lordly loiterer from his cure, but a busy
ploughman; so that among all the prelates, and among all the pack of them
that have cure, the devil shall go for my money, for he still applieth
his business. Therefore, ye unpreaching prelates, learn of the devil: to
be diligent in doing of your office, learn of the devil: and if you will
not learn of God, nor good men, for shame learn of the devil; _ad
erubescentiam vestrum dico_, "I speak it for your shame:" if you will not
learn of God, nor good men, to be diligent in your office, learn of the
devil. Howbeit there is now very good hope that the king's majesty,
being of the help of good governance of his most honourable counsellors
trained and brought up in learning, and knowledge of God's word, will
shortly provide a remedy, and set an order herein; which thing that it
may so be, let us pray for him. Pray for him, good people; pray for him.
Ye have great cause and need to pray for him.
A SERMON ON THE PARABLE OF A KING THAT MARRIED HIS SON, MADE BY MASTER
LATIMER.