Sermons

UNITARIANISM BEGINS:
II. SEBASTIAN CASTELLIO

By the Rev. J. Frank Schulman

After John Calvin had Michael Servetus burned at the stake, he considered the matter ended. Servetus had denied the Trinity, a crime that Calvin could not see unpunished. After the execution, Calvin was reimbursed from the property of Servetus for his own expenses and the rest of Servetus’ money was turned over to the public treasury of Geneva.

Calvin was glad to see the matter finished. Melanchthon, Luther’s colleague, wrote that it was a deed well done. In general the matter seemed to be ended. But Calvin had not reckoned on Sebastian Castellio, a mild professor of Greek Literature in nearby Basle.

I.

The death of Servetus was defended by Calvin in a book. He called Servetus monstrous and attempted to show the dreadful harm his teachings would spread. But the damage was done. The death of Servetus, who had done nothing but disagree with Calvin’s opinions, opened discussions Calvin could not stop. In Calvin’s book he nowhere expressed the least regret at what he had done and showed loathing and contempt for Servetus as a very monster of iniquity, applying to him the foulest epithets. Seldom if ever in religious history has posthumous insult been more violent or odious, or more self-righteously used in the pretended service of God. Calvin called Servetus, among other things, detestable infidel, rabid magician, great pest, vomit, obscene dog, stupid, ferocious beast, and several others best not translated from the Latin.

Sebastian Castellio was a Professor of Greek Literature and a biblical scholar. He was born in 1515, near Geneva. At first he was friendly to Calvin and Calvin made him rector of the school system. When it was found that Castellio did not believe certain parts of the creed and that he questioned the literal accuracy of the Bible, it became prudent for him to leave Geneva.

Castellio’s reaction to the death of Servetus, whom he never knew personally, was immediate. He wrote Calvin, “If those thus butchered had been, I will not say horses, but only swine, every prince would have considered he had sustained a grave loss.” “I doubt,” he groaned, “whether in any epoch of the world’s history so much blood can have been shed as in our own.” “To seek truth and to utter what one believes to be true can never be a crime. No one must be forced to accept a conviction. Conviction is free.”

Voltaire said the execution of Servetus was the first religious murder committed by the Reformation, and the first plain repudiation of the primary idea of that great movement.

Apologists for Calvin said that Calvin was a product of his age and Servetus merely a victim. That is not so. Castellio, Montaigne, and Erasmus were also of that day. It was not the blindness and folly of the time that sent Servetus to the stake, but the despotism of Calvin. Calvin must take his own blame.

Murmurs began to creep through Geneva. Calvin imprisoned people at every point and took up his pen to explain himself. He wrote his Defense of the True Faith and of the Trinity Against the Dreadful Errors of Servetus when, as Castellio said, “his hands were still dripping with the blood of Servetus.”

Calvin tried to justify himself. He wrote of the evils of the Catholic Inquisition. He said they sentenced true believers without giving them a chance to defend themselves and then had them executed in the most barbarous way. “What about you?” demanded Castellio. “Whom did you appoint to defend Servetus?” Of course Servetus was not allowed any defense at all.

Castellio complained that he tried to convert Servetus and pleaded with the town council for mercy. Zerchintes, a friend of Castellio, wrote to Calvin,

I avow that I, too, am one of those who would fain limit as far as possible the right to inflict capital punishment on account of differences in matters of faith, even where the error is voluntary. What determines my judgment in these matters is not only those passages of Holy Writ which can be quoted against the use of force, but also the way in which, here in Bern, the Anabaptists have been mishandled. I myself saw a woman of eighty dragged to the scaffold, together with her daughter, a mother of six children, these two women having committed no other offense than to repudiate infant baptism… I deep it therefore advisable that the authorities should be rather unduly clement and considerate than to be over-ready to appeal to the sword.

II.

Castellio published his book, Concerning Heretics. He showed opinions of the church fathers requesting leniency in the treatment of heretics. He even quoted Calvin himself, which threw Calvin into a rage. Calvin had written, while himself under sentence by the Inquisition for heresy in France,

It is unchristian to use arms against those who have been expelled from the church, and to deny them rights common to all mankind.

Castellio wrote,

It is absurd to use earthly weapons in spiritual warfare. The enemies of Christians are vices, and are to be overcome by virtues… The cultivation of Christian character is neglected while Christians spend their time disputing speculative questions such as the nature of Christ, the Trinity, predestination, free will, the Eucharist and baptism. These are not necessary to salvation, and do not make a man better.

Calvin responded that liberty of conscience is “a diabolical doctrine.” To make religion consist, as Castellio did, of a pure heart, the correction and reformation of life, is blasphemy, impiety, and sacrilege, since it undermines doctrine. Society must therefore expunge the impiety, even by death of those who profess it. Castellio responded,

What do we really mean by the term “heretic”? Whom are we entitled to call a heretic, without being unjust? I do not believe that all those termed heretics are really such. When I reflect on what a heretic really is, I can find no other criterion than that we are all heretics in the eyes of those who do not share our views.

We can live together peacefully only when we control our intolerance [he wrote]. Even though there will always be differences of opinion from time to time, we can at any rate come to general understandings, can love one another, and can enter the bonds of peace.

There was the crux of the whole matter: that people can love one another and still hold their individual beliefs. It seems to us so simple. Yet in that day thousands were slaughtered in the name of religion. It took tremendous daring for Castellio to pen that message.

The butcheries, the barbarous persecutions—the blame for those did not fall on the heretics, but on their persecutors. In his Manifesto on Behalf of Toleration Castellio wrote,

Men are so strongly convinced of the soundness of their opinions that they despise the opinions of others. Cruelties and persecutions are the outcome of arrogance, so that a man will not tolerate others’ differing in any way from his own views, although there are today almost as many views as there are persons. Yet there is not one sect which does not condemn all the others and wish to reign supreme. That accounts for banishments, exiles, incarcerations, burnings, hangings, and the blind fury of the tormentors who are continually at work, in the endeavor to suppress certain outlooks which displease our lords and masters.

Castellio was a mild man and claimed to be a man sent up from the masses, not a prophet from God. But because he had a humane heart, he could not restrain himself or confine his writings to academic inquiries. “However horribly these things may be,” he wrote Calvin,

the sinners sin yet more horribly when they endeavor to wrap up their misdeeds in the raiment of Christ, and declare that they act in accordance with his will.

Who [asked Castellio] would today wish to become a Christian when those who confess themselves Christians are slain by other Christians without mercy and are treated more cruelly than murderers and robbers? Who would wish to go on serving Christ when he sees how today anyone that differs in some paltry detail from persons who have wrested power to themselves is burned alive in the name of Christ, even though, like Servetus, he calls on Christ amid the flames and loudly declares himself a believer in Christ? What more could Satan do than burn those who call on the name of Jesus?

Calvin regarded all that as monstrously unjust. “A new heresy has been discovered,” he stormed. “We must stamp out this burst of hell-fire before it spreads over the surface of the earth.” Calvin demanded action. The new heretics must be killed and their books burned. Calvin wrote, “Freedom of conscience is a doctrine of the devil.” “Better to have a tyrant, however cruel, than permit everyone to do what he pleases.”

The warfare continued. Castellio demanded to know who had set Calvin up as an arbiter of public beliefs. “You began,” he wrote, “by arresting your opponent, by locking Servetus in prison, and you excluded from the trial all except those who were the Spaniard’s enemies.” Servetus’ only charge had been a difference in theological position. Servetus was not accused of any crime at all. Why, then, did Calvin appeal to the criminal courts? Differences in thought should be settled by the instruments of thought alone. Servetus had used nothing but rational arguments against Calvin. Calvin should have defended himself in the same way.

Calvin replied that it was his mission to save Christianity, and that a gangrenous limb must be amputated. To which Castellio replied, “There is nowhere in the gospels, nor yet in any moral treatise ever given to the world, the demand for such intolerance. Will you dare, in the last resort, to say that Jesus himself taught you to burn your fellow men?”

Then came Castellio’s imperishable words: “Who burns a man does not defend a doctrine, but only burns a man.”

On raged the arguments. Castellio continued to inquire what crime Servetus had committed. He was not subject to Geneva law, had done nothing in that city except try to pass through it. There was not a legal shred on which to bring him to trial.

III.

Now, it must seem from those writings that surely Calvin would have been defeated instantly. All of Protestantism should have been converted by those writings. What was the effect? Nothing. Nothing at all. All of Castellio’s writings had no effect. Why? Because his books were not allowed to go to press. Calvin throttled it by censorship and the conscience of Europe could not be reached. Calvin received cooperation because every tyrant in Europe realized the threat to his power.

Might prevailed over right. Calvin had the town of Geneva issue a demand to Basle that the professor be made to account for himself. Basle was frightened of Geneva and felt it better to sacrifice an individual than to run their heads against a wall.

Servetus had been silenced by fire. Now Castellio was silenced by censorship. Authority once again was maintained by terror. Against a reign of terror there is no appeal. Castellio had no alternative but to submit. His will was not broken, however, and he wrote, “Even if, for a season, truth is suppressed, no one can permanently coerce truth.” As Carlyle said, “The first of all truths is this, that a lie cannot endure forever.”

Calvin became more terrible than before. He gained more power, intensified by his crimes. Victory continued. Tension grew. Street brawls became frequent. Calvin became a dictator. Confessions of treason were gained by the most atrocious cruelty, and all who resisted Calvin in the most trifling way were put to death.

But, strangely, the tide was turning. There were still men persuaded by Christianity and they came to Castellio’s defense. That incensed Calvin. He must now have revenge, whatever the pretext. He brought an accusation against Castellio. He accused him of being a Libertine, Pelagian, defender of all vicious, heretical, adulterous, thievish men, a Papist, blasphemer, skeptic, and Anabaptist, and that he had translated the Dialogues of Servetus into Italian from Latin. The last charge was true. That was part of his livelihood and he was required, as part of his job, to translate.

Calvin next accused Castellio of stealing firewood. He demanded that he be brought to trial. Castellio wrote to him,

Woe unto those whom you lead if they are infected by your moods, and if it should prove that your disciples resemble their master. Some day truth will prevail and you, Calvin, will have to account to God for the abuse you have showered on me, to save whom, as to save yourself, Christ died. Is it possible that you are not ashamed, that you cannot remember Jesus’ own words, “Whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment”?

He went on to explore the foolishness of Calvin’s charge that he had stolen the firewood. In fact he had taken driftwood from the Rhine. That was a practice encouraged by Basle and a reward was paid to those who would retrieve the driftwood from the river, thus saving the bridges from possible harm. So that serious charge turned out to be nonsense.

But the charge was made against Castellio, foolish as it was. It was made by Bodenstein —remember that Calvin was too cowardly and never made those charges personally. The charges were absurd but they were sufficient to bring him to trial.

The trial undoubtedly would have favored Castellio except for a circumstance that favored Calvin. It was discovered that a nobleman of Basle was in reality an arch-heretic who had assumed a noble disguise. That nobleman was a friend of Castellio’s. The people of Basle turned against him when it was shown that he was also a friend of Bernardino Ochino. Ochino, later to become head of the Unitarian movement in Italy, was a Franciscan monk, Vicar-General of the Capuchin order.

Castellio was dismissed from the University and his health began to fail. Without money or friends, he had no alternative but to starve to death and watch his family starve with him. He preferred even that to retraction of his efforts on behalf of toleration. He was forced to his bed at last, having been seized with uncontrollable vomiting. There was no will left, for he knew that Servetus’ defender would receive Servetus’ penalty: death by burning. And so, preparation for the trial was made. But on December 29, 1563, at the age of 48, Sebastian Castellio was rescued from the jaws of death by a merciful God.

IV.

The citizens of Basle then realized they had lost a true patriot. They were horrified at the poverty-stricken conditions of the nobleman. There was not a fragment of silverware in his house. Everything he owned had been sold to purchase food. His friends collected money to provide a funeral, pay his few debts, and care for his children. Then Sebastian Castellio had a moral triumph. The entire university faculty marched to the cathedral for the funeral, the coffin being borne on the shoulders of the students. Three hundred of his pupils collected money for a tombstone on which were chiseled the words, “To our renowned teacher, in gratitude for his extensive knowledge and in commemoration of the purity of his life.”

Had conditions been more favorable for Calvin, Calvin’s ideas might have engulfed civilization. Fortunately, they did not. For soon Europe rebelled against the tyranny over the mind that so long had engulfed its people. Servetus became a cause celebre. Prof. Matteo Gribaldi, a celebrated jurist from Padua, came to Geneva. He said no one should die for his opinions, however heretical, gave reasons for his views and sought, in vain, a debate with Calvin on the subject. Laelius Socinus said Sevetus was Abel crying to God, and that Cain—Calvin—would find no peace on earth. Bernardino Ochino declared that if Christ himself came to Geneva, Calvin would crucify him. One must go away from Geneva, he said, to find Christianity.

Descartes and Spinoza, influenced directly by Castellio, wrote books that freed people from the fetters of ecclesiasticism and tradition.

The name of Sebastian Castellio soon was forgotten. But his ideas did not perish in the tomb. Eventually his writings were published but not until after John Locke had written the same ideas. And so the name of Sebastian Castellio is all but lost to history. There are few who even know his name. He is honored by no memorials. No churches are named after him, not even rooms in churches. His writings are never read and almost impossible to obtain. There remains only that tomb in Basle, overgrown with weeds and neglected by a perfidious people. Some years ago at General Assembly, on the 400th anniversary of his death, we were busy appropriating money for this and that cause. I asked that we take a collection, or provide money, to restore his grave, but the motion was ruled out of order.

But Castellio was on the side of truth. He is remembered by a few people. More important, his ideas are imperishable. His pleas for tolerance and respect, for simple kindness and mercy, have become cornerstones of Unitarianism. Castellio is, I think, the first person in history who could be called a Unitarian in the modern sense of the word.

Woodrow Wilson said, “I would rather be defeated in a cause that will one day triumph, than to triumph in a cause that must one day be defeated.” Sebastian Castellio, then, must be pronounced the victor.

©2003 J. Frank Schulman. All rights reserved.