EXCELLENT TESTIMONIAL FROM MY BISHOP—MY RETREAT—GRAND VICAR SAURIN AND
HIS ASSISTANT, REV. M. GRANGER—GRAND VICAR DUNN WRITES ME ABOUT THE
NEW STORM PREPARED BY THE JESUITS—BISHOP SMITH, ORDERS ME BACK TO
DUBUQUE—HE REJECTS THE ACTS OF SUBMISSION—THE VOICE OF GOD—THE BISHOP
REQUIRES A NEW ACT OF SUBMISSION—I REFUSE IT—VISION—CHRIST OFFERS
HIMSELF AS A GIFT—I AM FORGIVEN, RICH HAPPY AND SAVED—BACK TO MY
PEOPLE.
Bishop Smith had fulfilled his promise in addressing to me a testimonial
letter, which would show to both friends and foes that the most
honorable and lasting peace between us was to succeed the deplorable
years of strife through which we had just passed. I read it with grand
vicar Dunn, who was not less pleased than I with the kind expressions of
esteem towards my people and myself with which it was filled. I had
never had a document in which my private and public character were so
kindly appreciated. I put it in my portfolio as the most precious
treasure I had ever possessed, and my gratitude to the bishop who had
written such friendly lines, was boundless. I, at once, addressed a
short letter to thank and bless him: and I requested him to pray for me
during the happy days of retreat I was to spend at the monastery of St.
Joseph.
The venerable grand vicar Saurin, and his assistant, Rev. M. Granger,
received me as two Christian gentlemen receive a brother priest, and I
may say that, during my stay in the monastery, they constantly
overwhelmed me with the most sincere marks of kindness. I found in them
both the very best types of priests of Rome. A volume, and not a
chapter, would be required, were I to tell what I saw there of the zeal,
devotedness, ability and marvellous success of their labors. Suffice it
to say, that grand vicar Saurin is justly considered one of the largest
and highest intellects Rome has ever given to the United States. There
is not, perhaps, a man who has done so much for the advancement of that
church in this country as that highly gifted priest. My esteem, respect,
I venture to say, my veneration for him, increased every time I had the
privilege of conversing with him. The only things which pained me were:
1st. When some of his inferior monks came to speak to him, they had to
kneel and prostrate themselves as if he had been a god, and they had to
remain in that humble and degrading posture, till, with a sign of his
hand or a word from his lips, he told them to rise.
2nd. Though he promised to the numerous Protestant parents, who
entrusted their boys and girls to his care for their education, never to
interfere with their religion, he was, nevertheless, incessantly
proselytizing them. Several of his Protestant pupils were received in
the Church of Rome, and renounced the religion of their fathers, in my
presence, on the eve of Easter of that year.
While, as a priest, I rejoiced in the numerous conquests of my church
over her enemies, in all our colleges and nunneries, I objected to the
breach of promise, always connected with those conversions. I, however,
then thought, as I think to-day, that a Protestant who takes his
children to a Roman Catholic priest or nun for their education, had no
religion.
It is simply an absurdity to promise that we will respect the religion
of a man who has none. How can we respect that which does not exist?
As a general thing, there are too few people who understand the profound
meaning of our Saviour’s words to his disciples: “Come ye yourselves
apart into a desert place and rest a while.” These words, uttered after
the apostles had gathered themselves together unto Jesus, and told him
all things both what they had done and taught, ought to receive more
attention, on the part of those whom the Son of God has chosen to
continue the great work of preaching his Gospel to the world. I had
never before so well realized how good it was to be alone with Christ,
and tell him all I had done, said and thought. Those few days of rest
and communion with my Saviour were one of the greatest favors my
merciful God had ever given me.
My principal occupation was to read and meditate on the Gospel. That
divine book had never been so precious to me as since God had directed
me to put it as the fundamental stone of my faith in the act of
submission I had just given to my bishop: and my church had never been
so dear to me as since she had accepted that conditional submission. I
felt a holy pride and joy at having finally silenced the voice of the
enemy which, so often, troubled my faith by crying to my soul: “Do you
not see that in your Church of Rome, you do not follow the Word of God,
but only the lying traditions of men.” My church, through her bishop,
had just given me what I considered an infallible assurance of the
contrary, by accepting the document signed by me and my people, where we
had clearly said that we would never obey any authority or any superior,
except when “their orders or doctrines would be based upon the Gospel of
Christ.” My soul was rejoicing in those thoughts, when, on the 5th of
April (Monday after Easter) grand vicar Saurin handed me a letter from
Mr. Dunn, telling me that a new storm, brought by the Jesuits, and more
formidable than the past ones, was about to break on me; that I had to
prepare for new and more serious conflicts than I had ever experienced.
The next morning, Mr. Saurin handed me another letter from the Bishop of
Dubuque, and with a sympathy which I will never forget, he said:
“I am sorry to see that you are not at the end of your troubles, as you
expected.
“Bishop Smith orders you back to Dubuque with words which are far from
being friendly.”
But, strange to say, such bad news, which would have saddened and
discouraged me, in other circumstances, left me perfectly calm and
cheerful on that day. In my dear Gospel, which had been my daily bread,
the last eight days, I had found the helmet for my head, the breastplate
and the shield to protect me, and the unconquerable sword with which to
fight.
From every page, I heard my Saviour’s voice: “Fear not, I am with thee.”
When, on my way back to Dubuque, I stopped at Chicago, to know from my
faithful friend, Mr. Dunn, the cause of the new storm. He said:
“You remember how grand vicar Mailloux was displeased with the
conditional submission you had given to the bishop. As soon as we had
left him, he sent the young priest who is with him, to the Jesuits of
Chicago, to tell them that the authority of the church and of the bishop
would be forever lost, if Chiniquy were allowed to submit on such a
condition. He wanted them to notice that it was not to the authority of
the bishops and the church you had submitted; but only to the authority
of the Bible. The Jesuits were of the same mind. They immediately sent
to Dubuque, and said to the bishop: ‘Do you not see that Chiniquy is a
disguised Protestant; that he has deceived you by presenting you such an
act of submission. Does not your lordship see that Chiniquy has not
submitted himself to your authority, but to the authority of his Bible
alone? Do you not fear that the whole body of the bishops and the Pope
himself will condemn you for having fallen into the trap prepared by
that disguised Protestant?’
“Our administrator, though a good man when left to himself, is weak, and
like soft wax, can be manipulated in every way.
“The Jesuits who want to rule the priests and the church with an iron
rod, and who are aiming to change the Pope and the bishops into the most
heartless tyrants, have advised the administrator to force you to give
an unconditional act of submission. It is not the Word of God which must
rule us now, it is the old Jupiter, who is coming back to rule us under
the name of a modern divinity, called ‘the authority of the bishops.’
The administrator and the Jesuits themselves, have telegraphed your
submission to several bishops, who have unanimously answered that it
must be rejected, and another given, without condition, requested from
you. You were evidently too correct, when you told me the other day,
that your act of submission was too good for the bishops and the Pope.
What will you do?”
I replied: “I do not know what I will do, but be sure of this, my dear
Mr. Dunn, I will do what our great and merciful God will tell me.”
“Very well, very well,” he answered, “May God help you!”[H].
-----
Footnote H:
That same Mr. Dunn was also excommunicated, not long after, by his
bishop, and died after publicly refusing to be relieved from that
sentence.
-----
After warmly shaking hands with me, I left to take the train for
Dubuque, where I arrived, next morning. I went immediately to the
bishop’s palace. I found him in the company of a Jesuit, and I felt
myself as a poor helpless ship between two threatening icebergs.
“Your lordship wants to see me again,” I said.
“Yes, sir, I want to see you again,” he answered.
“What do you want from me my lord?” I replied.
“Have you the testimonial letter I addressed to you, at Chicago, last
week?”
“Yes, my lord, I have it with me.”
“Will you please show it to me,” he replied.
“With pleasure, here it is,” and I handed him the precious document.
As soon as he had assured himself that it was the very letter in
question, he ran to the stove and threw it into the fire. I felt so
puzzled at the action of my bishop, that I remained almost paralyzed;
but soon, coming to myself, I ran, to save from the flames, that
document which was more valuable and precious to me than all the gold of
California, but it was too late. It was in ashes.
I turned to the bishop and said: “How can you take from me a document
which is my property, and destroy it without my permission?”
He answered me with an impudence that cannot be expressed on paper: “I
am your superior, and have no account to give you.”
I replied: “Yes, my lord, you are my superior indeed. You are a great
bishop in our church, and I am nothing but a poor miserable priest.
“But, there is an Almighty God in heaven, who is as much above you as he
is above me. That great God has granted me
rights which I will never give up to please any man. In the presence of
God, I protest against your iniquity.”
“Have you come here to lecture me?” replied the bishop.
“No, my lord, I did not come to lecture you; I come at your command, but
I want to know if it was to insult me as you have just done that you
requested me to come here again.”
“I ordered you to come here again because you deceived me the last time
you were here,” he answered: “you gave me an act of submission which you
know very well is not an act of submission. I accepted it then, but I
was mistaken; I reject it to-day.”
I answered: “How can you say that I deceived you? The document I
presented you, is written in good, plain English. It is there, on your
table, I see it: you read it twice, and understood it well. If you were
deceived by its contents, you deceived yourself. You are, then, a
self-deceiver and you cannot accuse me of having deceived you.”
He then took the document, read it slowly: and when at the words, “we
submit ourselves to your authority, according to the Word of God as we
find it in the Gospel of Christ,” he stopped and said: “What do you mean
by this?”
I answered, “I mean what you see there. I mean that neither I nor my
people will ever submit ourselves to anybody, except according to the
eternal laws of truth, justice and holiness of God, as we find them
expressed in the Bible.”
He angrily answered, “Such language on your part is sheer Protestantism.
I cannot accept such a conditional submission from any priest.”
Then, again, I seemed to hear the mysterious voice, “Do you not see that
in your Church of Rome, you do not follow the Word of God, but the lying
traditions of men?”
Thanks be to God, I did not silence that voice in that solemn hour.
An ardent, though silent prayer, went from the bottom of my heart to the
mercy seat. With all the fervor of my soul I said: “Oh my God! speak,
speak again to thy poor servant, and grant me the grace to follow thy
Holy Word!” I then said to the bishop:
“You distress me by rejecting this act of submission, and asking
another. Please explain yourself more clearly, and tell me the nature of
the new one you require from me and my people.”
Taking then a more subdued and polite tone, the bishop said:
“I hope, Mr. Chiniquy, that, as a good priest, you do not want to rebel
against your bishop, and that you will give me the act of submission I
ask from you. Take away these ‘Words of God,’ ‘Gospel of Christ,’ and
‘Bible,’ from your present document, and I will be satisfied.”
“But, my lord, with my people, I have put these words because we want to
obey only the bishops who follow the Word of God. We want to submit only
to the church which respects and follows the Gospel of Christ.”
In an irritated manner, he quickly answered: “Take away from your act of
submission, those ‘Words of God,’ and ‘Gospel of Christ,’ and ‘Bible!’
or I will punish you as a rebel.”
“My lord,” I replied, “those expressions are there to show us and to the
whole world, that the Word of God, the Gospel of Christ and the Bible,
are the fundamental stones of our holy church. If we reject those
precious stones, on what foundations will our church and our faith
rest?”
He answered angrily: “Mr. Chiniquy, I am your superior, I do not want to
argue with you: You are my inferior, your business is to obey me. Give
me, at once, an act of submission in which you will simply say that you
and your people will submit yourselves to my authority, and promise to
do anything I will bid you.”
I calmly answered: “What you ask me is not an act of submission, it is
an act of adoration. I do absolutely refuse to give it.”
“If it be so, sir,” he answered, “you can no longer be a Roman Catholic
priest.”
I raised my hands to heaven, and cried with a loud voice: “May God
Almighty be forever blessed.”
I took my hat and left to go to my hotel. When alone, in my room, I
locked the door and fell on my knees, to consider, in the presence of
God, what I had just done. There, the awful, undeniable truth stared me
in the face. My church could not be the Church of Christ! That sad truth
had not been revealed to me by any Protestant, nor any other enemy of
the church. It was from her own lips I had got it? It had been told me
by one of her most learned and devoted bishops! My church was the
deadly, the irreconcilable enemy of the Word of God, as I had so often
suspected! I was not allowed to remain a single day longer in that
church without positively and publicly giving up the Gospel of Christ!
It was evident to me that the Gospel was only a blind, a mockery to
conceal her iniquities, tyrannies, superstitions and idolatries. The
only use of the Gospel in my church, was to throw dust in the eyes of
the priests and people! It had no authority. The only rule and guide
were the will, the passions and the dictates of sinful men!
There, on my knees, and alone with God, it was evident to me that the
voice which had so often troubled and shaken my faith, was the voice of
my merciful God who wanted to save me. It was the voice of my dear
Saviour, who wanted to bring me out of the ways of perdition in which I
was walking. And I had tried so often to silence that voice!
“My God! my God!” I cried, “The Church of Rome is not thy church. To
obey the voice of my conscience, which is thine, I gave it up. When I
had the choice between giving up the Church or the Bible, I did not
hesitate. I could not give up thy Holy Word. I have given up Rome! But,
O Lord, where is thy church? Oh! speak!! where must I go to be saved?”
For more than one hour, I cried to God in vain; no answer came. In vain,
I cried for a ray of light to guide me. The more I prayed and wept, the
greater was the darkness which surrounded me! I then felt as if God had
forsaken me, and an unspeakable distress was the result of that horrible
thought. To add to my distress, the thought flashed across my mind that
by giving up the Church of Rome, I had given up the church of my dear
father and mother, of my brothers, my friends and my country. In fact
all that was near and dear to me!
I hope that none of my readers will ever experience what it is to give
up friends, relatives, parents, honor, country—everything! I did not
regret the sacrifice, but I felt as if I could not survive it. With
tears, I cried to God for more strength and faith to bear the cross
which was laid on my too weak shoulders but all in vain.
Then I felt that an implacable war was to be declared against me, which
would end only with my life. The Pope, the bishops and priests, all over
the world, would denounce and curse me. They would attack and destroy my
character, my name and my honor, in their press, from their pulpit and
in their confessionals, where the man they strike can never know whence
the blow is coming! Almost in despair, I tried to think of some one who
would come to my help in that formidable conflict, but could find none.
Every one of the millions of Roman Catholics were bound to curse me. My
best friends—my own people—even my own brothers, were bound to look upon
me with horror as an apostate, a vile outcast! Could I hope for help or
protection from Protestants? No! for my priestly life had been spent in
writing and preaching against them. In vain would I try to give an idea
of the desolation I felt, when that thought struck my mind.
Forsaken by God and man, what would become of me? Where would I go when
out of that room?
Expelled with contempt by my former Roman Catholic friends; repulsed
with still more contempt by Protestants; where could I go to hide my
shame and drag my miserable existence? How could I go again into that
world where there was no more room for me; where there was no hand to
press mine; none to smile upon me! Life suddenly became to me an
unbearable burden. My brain seemed to be filled with burning coals. I
was losing my mind. Yea, death, an instant death seemed to me the
greatest blessing in that awful hour! and, will I say it? Yes! I took my
knife to cut my throat and put an end to my miserable existence! But my
merciful God, who wanted only to humble me, by showing me my own
helplessness, stopped my hand, and the knife fell on the floor.
Though I felt the pangs of that desolation for more than two hours, I
constantly cried to God for a ray of his saving light, for a word
telling me what to do, where to go to be saved. At last, drops of cold
sweat began to cover again my face and my whole body. The pulsations of
my heart began to be very slow and weak: I felt so feeble that I
expected to faint at any moment, or fall dead! At first I thought that
death would be a great relief, but then, I said to myself: “If I die,
where will I go, when there is no faith, nor a ray of light to illumine
my poor perishing soul! Oh, my dear Saviour,” I cried, “come to my help!
Lift up the light of thy reconciled countenance upon me.”
In that very instant, I remembered that I had my dear New Testament with
me, which I used then, as now, to carry everywhere. The thought flashed
across my mind that I would find in that divine book the answer to my
prayer, and light to guide me through that dark night to that house of
refuge and salvation, after which my soul was ardently longing. With a
trembling hand and a praying heart, I opened the book at random; but,
no! not I, my God himself opened it for me. My eyes fell on these words:
“YE ARE BOUGHT WITH A PRICE. BE NOT YE THE SERVANTS OF MEN.” (1 Cor.,
7:23.)
Strange to say! Those words came to my mind, more as a light than an
articulated sound. They, suddenly, but most beautifully and powerfully,
gave me, as much as a man can know it, the knowledge of the great
mystery of a perfect salvation through Christ alone. They, at once,
brought a great and delightful calm to my soul. I said to myself: “Jesus
has bought me, then I am His; for when I have bought a thing, it is
mine, absolutely mine! Jesus has bought me! I, then, belong to him! He
alone has a right over me. I do not belong to the bishops, to the Popes;
not even to the church, as I have been told till now. I belong to Jesus,
and to him alone! His Word must be my guide, and my light by day and by
night. Jesus has bought me, I said again to myself; then He has saved
me! and if so, I am saved, perfectly saved, for ever saved! for Jesus
cannot save me by half. Jesus is my God; the works of God are perfect.
My salvation must, then, be a perfect salvation! But how has he saved
me? What price has he paid for my poor guilty soul? The answer came as
quickly as lightning: “He bought you with his blood shed on the cross!
He saved you by dying on Calvary!”
I, then, said to myself again: “If Jesus has perfectly saved me by
shedding his blood on the cross, I am not saved as I have thought and
preached till now, by my penances, my prayers to Mary and the saints, my
confessions and indulgences, not even by the flames or purgatory.
In that instant, all things which, as a Roman Catholic, I had to believe
to be saved—all the mummeries by which the poor Roman Catholics are so
cruelly deceived, the chaplets, indulgences, scapularies, auricular
confession, invocation of the virgin, holy water, masses, purgatory,
etc., given as means of salvation, vanished from my mind as a huge
tower, when struck at the foundation, crumbles to the ground. Jesus
alone remained in my mind as the Saviour of my soul!
Oh! what joy I felt at this simple, but sublime truth! But it was the
will of God that this joy should be short. It suddenly went away with
the beautiful light which had caused it; and my poor soul was again
wrapped in the most awful darkness. How ever profound that darkness was,
a still darker object presented itself before my mind. It was as a very
high mountain; but not composed of sand or stones, it was the mountain
of my sins. I saw them all standing before me. And still more horrified
was I when I saw it moving towards me as if, with a mighty hand, to
crush me. I tried to escape, but in vain. I felt tied to the floor, and
the next moment, it had rolled over me. I felt as crushed under its
weight; for it was as heavy as granite. I could scarcely breathe! My
only hope was to cry to God for help. With a loud voice, heard by many
in the hotel, I cried: “O my God! have mercy upon me! My sins are
destroying me! I am lost, save me!” But it seemed God could not hear me.
The mountain was between, to prevent my cries from reaching Him, and to
hide my tears. I suddenly thought that God would have nothing to do with
such a sinner, but to open the gates of hell to throw me into that
burning furnace prepared for his enemies, and which I had so richly
deserved!
I was mistaken, after eight or ten minutes of unspeakable agony, the
rays of a new and beautiful light began to pierce through the dark cloud
which hung over me. In that light, I clearly saw my Saviour. There he
was, bent under the weight of his heavy cross. His face was covered with
blood, the crown of thorns was on his head and the nails in his hands.
He was looking at me with an expression of compassion, of love, which no
tongue can describe. Coming to me, he said: “I have heard thy cries, I
have seen thy tears, I come to offer myself to thee as a GIFT. I offer
thee my blood and my bruised body as a GIFT to pay thy debts; wilt thou
give me thy heart? Wilt thou take my Word for the only lamp of thy feet
and the only light of thy path? I bring thee eternal life, as a gift!”
I answered: “Dear Jesus, how sweet art thy words to my soul! Speak, oh!
speak again! Yes, beloved Saviour, I want to love thee; but dost thou
not see that mountain which is crushing me? Oh! remove it! Take away my
sins!”
I had not done speaking when I saw his mighty hand stretched out. He
touched the mountain, and it rolled into the deep, and disappeared. At
the same time, I felt as if a shower of the blood of the Lamb were
falling upon me to purify my soul. And, suddenly, my humble room was
transformed into a real paradise. The angels of God could not be more
happy than I was in that most mysterious and blessed hour of my life.
With an unspeakable joy, I said to my Saviour: “Dear Jesus, the GIFT of
God, I accept thee! Thou hast offered the pardon of my sins as a gift, I
accept the gift. Thou hast brought me eternal life as a gift! I accept
it! Thou hast redeemed and saved me, beloved Saviour, I know, I feel it.
But this is not enough. I do not want to be saved alone. Save my people
also. Save my whole country! I feel rich and happy in that gift; grant
me to show its beauty and preciousness, to my people, that they may
accept it, and rejoice in its possession.”
This sudden revelation of that marvellous truth of salvation as a GIFT,
had so completely transformed me, that I felt quite a new man. The
unutterable distress of my soul had been changed into an unspeakable
joy. My fears had gone away, to be replaced by a courage and strength,
such as I had never experienced. The Popes, with their bishops and
priests, and millions of abject slaves might, now, attack me, I felt
that I was a match for them all. My great ambition was to go back to my
people and tell them what the Lord had done to save my soul. I washed my
tears away, paid my bill and took the train which brought me back into
the midst of my dear countrymen. At that very same hour they were
anxious and excited, for they had just received, at Kankakee City, a
telegram from the Bishop of Dubuque, telling them: “Turn away your
priest, for he has refused to give me an unconditional act of
submission.”
They had gathered in great numbers to hear the reading of that strange
message. But they unanimously said: “If Mr. Chiniquy has refused to give
an unconditional act of submission, he has done right, we will stand by
him to the end.” However, I knew nothing of that admirable resolution. I
arrived at St. Anne, on a Sabbath day, at the hour of the morning
service. There was an immense crowd at the door of the chapel. They
rushed to me and said: “You are just coming from the bishop; what good
news have you to bring us?”
I answered: “No news here, my good friends, come to the chapel and I
will tell you what the Lord has done for my soul.”
When they had filled the large building, I told them.
“Our Saviour, the day before his death, said to his disciples: ‘I will
be a scandal to you, this night.’ I must tell you the same thing. I will
be, to-day, I fear, the cause of a great scandal to every one of you.
But, as the scandal which Christ gave to his disciples, has saved the
world; I hope that, by the great mercy of God, the scandal I will give
you will save you. I was your pastor till yesterday? But I have no more
that honor to-day, for I have broken the ties by which I was bound as a
slave at the feet of the bishops and of the Pope.”
This sentence was scarcely finished, when a universal cry of surprise
and sadness filled the church. “Oh! what does that mean?” exclaimed the
congregation.
“My dear countrymen,” I added, “I have not come to tell you to follow
me! I did not die to save your immortal souls: I have not shed my blood
to buy you a place in heaven; but Christ has done it. Then follow Christ
and him alone? Now, I must tell you why I have broken the ignominious
and unbearable yoke of men, to follow Christ. You remember that, on the
21st of March last, you signed, with me, an act of submission to the
authority of the Bishop of the Church of Rome, with the conditional
clause that we would obey them only in matters which were according to
the teachings of the Word of God as found in the Gospel of Christ. In
that act of submission we did not want to be slaves of any man, but the
servants of God, the followers of the Gospel. It was our hope then that
our church would accept such a submission. And your joy was great, when
you heard that Grand Vicar Dunn was here on the 28th of March, to tell
you that Bishop Smith had accepted the submission. But that acceptation
was revoked. Yesterday, I was told in the presence of God, by the same
bishop, that he ought not to have accepted an act of submission from any
priest or people based on the Gospel of Christ! Yes! yesterday, Bishop
Smith rejected, with the utmost contempt, the act of submission we had
given him, and which he had accepted only two weeks ago, because the
‘Word of God’ was mentioned in it! When I respectfully requested him to
tell me the nature of the new act of submission he wanted from us, he
ordered me to take away from it ‘the Word of God, the Gospel of Christ,
and the Bible,’ if we wanted to be accepted as good Catholics! We had
thought, till then, that the sacred Word of God, and the Holy Gospel of
Christ were the fundamental and precious stones of the Church of Rome.
We loved her on that account, we wanted to remain in her bosom, even
when we were forced to fight, as honest men, against that tyrant,
O’Regan. Believing that the Church of Rome was the child of the Word of
God, that it was the most precious fruit of the divine tree planted on
the earth, under the name of the Gospel, we would have given the last
drop of our blood to defend her!
“But, yesterday, I have learned, from the very lips of the Bishops of
Rome, that we were a band of simpletons in believing those things. I
have learned that the Church of Rome has nothing to do with the Word of
God, except to throw it overboard, to trample it under their feet, and
to forbid us even to name it in the solemn act of submission we had
given. I have been told that we could no longer be Roman Catholics, if
we persisted in putting the Word of God and the Gospel of Christ as the
foundation of our religion, our faith and our submission. When I was
told, by the bishop, that I had either to renounce the Word of God as
the base of my submission, or the title of priest of Rome, I did not
hesitate. Nothing could induce me to give up the Gospel of Christ; and
so I gave up the title and position of priest in the Roman Catholic
Church. I would rather suffer a thousand deaths than renounce the Gospel
of Christ. I am no longer a priest of Rome; but I am more than ever a
disciple of Christ, a follower of the Gospel. That Gospel is for me,
what it was for Paul: ‘The power of God unto salvation.’ It is the bread
of my soul. In it we can satisfy our thirst with the waters of eternal
life! No! no!! I could not buy the honor of being any longer a slave to
the bishops and popes of Rome, by giving up the Gospel of Christ!
“When I requested the bishop to give me the precise form of submission
he wanted from us, he answered: ‘Give me an act of submission without
any condition, and promise that you will do anything I bid you.’ I
replied:
“‘This is not an act of submission, it is an act of adoration! I will
never give it to you.!’
“‘If so,’ he said, ‘you can no longer be a Roman Catholic priest.’
“I raised my hands to heaven, and with a loud and cheerful voice, I
said: ‘May God Almighty be forever blessed.’”
I then told them something of my desolation, when alone, in my room; of
the granite mountain which had been rolled over my shoulders, of my
tears and of my despair. I told them also how my bleeding, dying
crucified Saviour had brought me the forgiveness of my sins; how he had
offered me eternal salvation as a GIFT, and how rich, strong and happy I
felt in that gift. I then offered them the GIFT and besought them to
accept it.
My address lasted more than two hours, and God blessed it in a
marvellous way. Its effects were profound and lasting, but it is too
long to describe here. In substance, I said: “I respect you too much to
impose myself upon your honest consciences, or to dictate what you ought
to do on this most solemn occasion. I feel that the hour has come for me
to make a great sacrifice; I must leave you! but no! I will not go away
before you tell me to do so. You will yourselves break the ties so dear
which have united us. Please, pay attention to these, my parting words:
“If you think it is better for you to follow the Pope than to follow
Christ; that it is better to trust in the works of your hands, and in
your own merits, than in the blood of the Lamb, shed on the cross, to be
saved; if you think it is better for you to follow the traditions of men
than the Gospel; and if you believe that it is better for you to have a
priest of Rome, who will keep you tied as slaves to the feet of the
bishops, and who will preach to you the ordinances of men, rather than
have me preach to you nothing but the pure Word of God, as we find it in
the Gospel of Christ, tell it to me by rising up, and I will go!” But to
my great surprise nobody moved. The chapel was filled with sobs; tears
were flowing from every eye; but not one moved to tell me to leave them!
I was puzzled. For though I had hoped that many, enlightened by the
copies of the New Testament I had given them, tired of the tyranny of
the bishops, and disgusted with the superstitions of Rome, would be glad
to break the yoke with me, to follow Christ; I was afraid that the
greatest number would not dare to break their allegiance to the church,
and publicly give up her authority. After a few minutes of silence,
during which I mixed my tears and my sobs with those of my people, I
told them: “Why do you not, at once, rise up and tell me to go? You see
that I can no longer remain your pastor after renouncing the tyranny of
the bishops, and the traditions of men, to follow the Gospel of Christ
as my only rule. Why do you not bravely tell me to go away?”
But this new appeal was still without any answer. I was filled with
astonishment. However, it was evident to me that a great and mysterious
change was wrought in that multitude. Their countenances, their manners
were completely changed. They were speaking to me with their eyes filled
with tears, and their manly faces beaming with joy. Their sobs, in some
way, told me that they were filled with new light; that they were full
of new strength, and ready to make the most heroic sacrifices, and break
their fetters to follow Christ, and Him alone. There was something in
those brave, honest and happy faces which was telling me more
effectually than the most eloquent speech: “We have accepted the GIFT,
we want to be rich, happy, free, and saved in the gift: we do not want
anything else; remain among us and help us to love both the gift and the
giver!”
A thought suddenly flashed across my mind, and with an inexpressible
sentiment of hope and joy, I told them:
“My dear countrymen! The Mighty God, who gave me his saving light,
yesterday, can grant you the same favor, to-day. He can, as well, save a
thousand souls as one. I see, in your noble and Christian faces, that
you do not want any more to be slaves of men. You want to be the free
children of God, intelligent followers of the Gospel! The light is
shining, and you like it. The gift of God has been offered to you, and
you have accepted it! With me you will break the fetters of a captivity,
worse than that of Egypt, to follow the Gospel of Christ, and take
possession of the Promised Land: let all those who think it is better to
follow Jesus Christ than the Pope, better to follow the Word of God than
the traditions of men: let all those of you who want me to remain here
and preach to you nothing but the Word of God, as we find it in the
Gospel of Christ, tell it to me, by rising up. I am your man! Rise up!”
Without a single exception, that multitude arose! More than a thousand
of my countrymen had, forever, broken their fetters. They had crossed
the Red Sea and exchanged the servitude of Egypt, for the blessings of
the Promised Land!