Where Are My Winged Words?

The following three English translations each add a bit of flavor to the words of an aged patristic theologian and poet, Gregory of Nazianzus (c. 329 - 379/380).

Elizabeth Rundle Charles, The Voice of the Christian Life in Song: Or, Hymns and Hymn-Writers of Many Lands and Ages, pp. 65-67:

One other hymn of Gregory's may be given, at least in part. It is a voice from those eight years which he spent in retirement. When his work was done, the Church of Anastasia had arisen, and father, mother, brother, and sister, all were dead. In the depths of its natural fears, and the firmness of the hope to which at last it rises, it tells the history of those solitary years, and echoes well the music of those ancient psalms, which soar so often "out of the depths" in to the light of God.

To Himself.

Where are the wing'd words? Lost in the air.
Where the fresh flower of youth and glory? Gone.
The strength of well-knit limbs? Brought low by care.
Wealth? Plunder'd; none possess but God alone.
Where those dear parents who my life first gave,
And where that holy twain, brother and sister? In the grave.

My fatherland alone to me is left,
And heaving factions flood my country o'er;
Thus, with uncertain steps, of all bereft,
Exiled and homeless, childless, aged, poor,
No child of mine age to soothe with service sweet,
I live from day to day with ever-wandering feet.

What lies before me? Where shall set my day?
Where shall these weary limbs at length repose?
What hospitable tomb receive my clay?
What eyes will watch me? -- Eyes with pity fraught?
Some friend of Christ? Or those who know Him not?

Or shall no tomb, as in a casket, lock
This frame, when laid a weight of breathless clay?
Cast forth unburied on the desert rock,
Or thrown in scorn to birds and beasts of prey;
Consumed and cast in handfuls on the air,
Left in some river-bed to perish there?

This as Thou wilt, the Day will all unite
Wherever scatter'd, when Thy word is said:
Rivers of fire, abysses without light,
Thy great tribunal, these alone are dread.
And Thou, O Christ, my King, art fatherland to me,
Strength, wealth, eternal rest, yea, all I find in Thee!

Thus, in the old Ionic tongue, the wail of feeble mortality went forth once more, but with a close the old Ionic music never knew; for Christ had died, and risen from the dead, and the other world was a region of melancholy shades no longer, for He is there.

Elizabeth Barret Browning, The Greek Christian Poets and the English Poets, pp. 39-40:

The passage we shall venture to translate, is rather a cry than a song --

Where are my winged words? Dissolved in air.
Where is my flower of youth? All withered. Where
My glory? Vanished. Where the strength I knew
From comely limbs? Disease hath changed it too,
And bent them. Where the riches and the lands?
GOD HATH THEM! Yea, and sinners' snatching hands
Have grudged the rest. Where is my father, mother,
And where my blessed sister, my sweet brother?
Gone to the grave! -- There did remain for me
Alone my fatherland, till destiny,
Malignly stirring a black tempest, drove
My foot from that last rest. And now I rove
Estranged and desolate a foreign shore,
And drag my mournful life and age all hoar
Throneless and cityless, and childless save
This father-care for children, which I have,
Living from day to day on wandering feet.
Where shall I cast this body? What will greet
My sorrows with an end? What gentle ground
And hospitable grave will wrap me round?
Who last my dying eyelids stoop to close--
Some saint, the Saviour's friend? or one of those
Who do not know Him? The air interpose,
And scatter these words too.

Philip Schaff, Christ in Song: Hymns of Immanuel, Selected From All Ages, With Notes, Vol. 2, pp. 233-234:

My Home in Heaven Alone

My home in heaven alone to me remains,
The floods of faction o'er my country sweet;
For my uncertain feet, the land retains
No resting-place, no friend to weep;
No child to soothe the homeless poor forlorn;
I wander day by day with trembling limbs and torn.

What lot awaits me? What my mortal doom?
Where shall this jaded body find its rest?
Shall this poor trembling flesh e'er find a tomb?
By whom shall these dim eyes in death be blest?
Will any watch? Will any pity me?
Will they be Christian watchers? Or shall sinners see?

Or shall no grave inclose this mortal frame,
When laid a heavy breathless corpse of clay?
Cast on the rock uncovered and in shame,
Or tossed in scorn to birds and beasts of prey?
Or burnt to ashes, given to the air?
Or thrown into the weedy deep to perish there?

Thy will be done, O Lord! That day shall spring,
When at Thy word this clay shall re-appear!
No death I dread but that which sin will bring;
No fire or flood without Thy wrath I fear;
For Thou, O Christ, my Lord! art fatherland to me,
My wealth and might and rest; my all I find in Thee.

A Tale of Two Italian Lawyers

James Hain Friswell, Francis Spira and Other Poems, pp. 6-7:

A man who sinn'd th' unpardonable sin!
Sinn'd against knowledge and the Holy Ghost.
A man who, dying, lay for many days
Facing hell torments, hopeless of relief!
Not dazed, nor frenzied; horrent, unamazed,
Knowing his sin beyond the Grace of God!
And his name Francis Spira, man of Law.

One of the most fearful stories in church history concerns Francis Spira, an Italian Roman Catholic jurist (1502-1548), who converted to the Protestant religion, but after he was brought before the Inquisition, he recanted, adjuring the faith publicly at church on consecutive Lord's Days, after which, in great horror of conscience, he eventually died of illness in Judas-like despair, believing himself to have committed the unpardonable sin against the Holy Ghost. Though his name may not be well-known today, throughout the centuries Spira has been an example and a byword for an extreme case of spiritual desertion. Charles Spurgeon wrote:

You know, also, the wonderful death of Francis Spira. In all literature, there is nothing so awful as the death of Spira. The man had known the truth; he stood well among reformers; he was an honored, and to a certain extent apparently a faithful man; but he went back to the Church of Rome; he apostatized; and then when conscience was aroused he did not fly to Christ, but he looked at the consequences instead of at the sin, and so, feeling that the consequences could not be altered, he forget that the sin might be pardoned, and perished in agonies extreme. May it never be the unhappy lot of any of us to stand by such a death-bed; but the Lord have mercy upon us now, and make us search our hearts.

and elsewhere:

In musing over the very dreadful sentence which closes my text, “He also will deny us,” I was led to think of various ways in which Jesus will deny us. He does this sometimes on earth. You have read, I suppose, the death of Francis Spira. If you have ever read it, you never can forget it to your dying day. Francis Spira knew the truth; he was a reformer of no mean standing but when brought to death, out of fear, he recanted. In a short time he fell into despair, and suffered hell upon earth. His shrieks and exclamations were so horrible, that their record is almost too terrible for print. His doom was a warning to the age in which he lived.

Spira's death was recounted in Henricus Scotus, Exemplum memorabile desperationis in Francisco Spera, propter abjuratam fidei confessionem (1550), for which John Calvin wrote a foreword dated December 1549. Nathaniel Woodes' historical drama, The Conflict of Conscience (1581), and Nathaniel Bacon, A Relation of the Fearful Estate of Francis Spira (1638), provided English accounts of his tragic death. One of these was influential in the conversion of John Bunyan, who quotes Spira directly through a character in The Pilgrim's Progress: the Man in the Iron Cage.

John Bunyan, Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners:

163. I found it hard work now to pray to God, because despair was swallowing me up; I thought I was, as with a tempest, driven away from God, for always when I cried to God for mercy, this would come in, It is too late, I am lost, God hath let me fall; not to my correction, but condemnation; my sin is unpardonable; and I know, concerning Esau, how that, after he had sold his birthright, he would have received the blessing, but was rejected. About this time, I did light on that dreadful story of that miserable mortal, Francis Spira; a book that was to my troubled spirit as salt, when rubbed into a fresh wound; every sentence in that book, every groan of that man, with all the rest of his actions in his dolours, as his tears, his prayers, his gnashing of teeth, his wringing of hands, his twining and twisting, languishing and pining away under that mighty hand of God that was upon him, was as knives and daggers in my soul; especially that sentence of his was frightful to me, Man knows the beginning of sin, but who bounds the issues thereof? Then would the former sentence, as the conclusion of all, fall like a hot thunderbolt again.

William Perkins wrote in his Cases of Conscience:

[O]ft it will fall out that the conscience of Gods child shall bee so exceedingly tormented in temptation, that hee shall cry out, he is forsaken of God, and shalbe damned; when as indeed he stil remains the deare child of God, as Christ our Saviour did Gods welbeloved in the deepest assaults of Satan. And therefore the relation published of Francis Spira his desperation, doth inconsiderately taxe him for a cast-away; considering that nothing befel him in the time of his desperation but that which may befall the child of God: yea our owne land can afford many examples which match Francis Spira, whether we regard the matter of his temptation, or the deepnesse of his desperation, who yet through the mercy of God have received comfort. And therefore in this case Christian charity must ever bind us to thinke and speake the best.

Others who have written concerning spiritual desertion, such as Robert Bolton, Thomas Watson, Thomas Vincent, and Johannes Hoornbeeck, have consistently cited Spira as an example and a warning to believers against complete and total despair of the grace of God.

The other Italian lawyer in this tale is Pier Paolo Vergerio or Petrus Paulus Vergerius (1498–1565). He started his career as a lawyer, but soon entered the service of the Papacy, rising to the office of Papal Nuncio to Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand I. While in Germany, he met Martin Luther and was exposed to the Protestant faith. He attended the Colloquies at Worms and Regensburg, in 1540 and 1541, where he met Philip Melanchthon (who presented him with a copy of the Augsburg Confession) and John Calvin, and was later charged with having conceded too much to the Protestants. He was first brought before the Inquisition in 1544, but the charges were not sustained, though he was denied the privilege of participating in the Council of Trent. In 1548, he was present during Francis Spira's deathbed agony, later writing an account of this saga, which led him to a decisive break with the Roman Catholic Church.

Philip Schaff writes:

Vergerio was overwhelmed by this experience, and brought to a final decision. He wrote an apology in which he gives an account of the sad story, and renounces his connection with Rome at the risk of persecution, torture, and death.

The story of his conversion is notably recounted in John Flavel's The Mystery of Providence, and elsewhere.

He was deposed and excommunicated in 1549, which forced him to flee Italy, finding refuge in Switzerland and Germany, where, having turned from Papal Nuncio to zealous Reformer, he wrote tracts against the Papacy, and histories of Papal persecution through the Inquisition.

While Spira is a monument to the despair and hopelessness that comes from our inability to keep God's law, Vergerio is a testimony to our only true hope, the grace of God through Jesus Christ, which is able to reach even into the heart of Rome to save a sinner.

Creedolatry?

There are those who are concerned that the use of creeds and confessions and catechisms exalts the word of man over the Word of God. The charge is sometimes made that Confessional Christians are guilty of "creedolatory." No doubt, there are those who make of creeds an idol, and there are those who subscribe to unBiblical creeds. But the relation of sound, Biblical creeds to God's Word in the life of the church and the Christian is helpfully expounded upon by Rowland Ward's excellent essay "Subscription to the Confession," found in Ligon Duncan, ed., The Westminster Confession into the 21st Century, Vol. 3 (2009), pp. 77-138. As evidence for the point that it is the authority of God's Word which gives authority to historic Reformed creeds, Ward cites several examples which pointedly declare the submission of man's creedal statements to God's Word, which I wish to highlight.

The First Confession of Basel (1534) says (the text I am citing here comes from James T. Dennison, Jr., ed., Reformed Confessions of the 16th and 17th Centuries in English Translation, Vol. 1 (1523-1552), pp. 295-296:

Of the Finishing Touch to the Confession of Basel, which has been Demonstrated from Sacred Scripture Alone, as it were a Singular and Perfect Rule of Faith, we Submit [this] for Evaluation with a Promise of Emendation if any Place in an Article is Against what is Written [in Scripture]

Finally, we submit our confession to the judgment of sacred Scripture: and promise that if we are instructed in better things from the Scriptures as preached, we always intend to obey God and His most holy Word with great thanksgiving.

Ward cites also a note appended to the First Helvetic Confession (1536) which reads (see Philip Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 1:389, for further discussion):

A declaration of witnessing of our mind. It is not our mind for to prescribe by these chapters a certain rule of the faith to all churches and congregations, for we know no other rule of faith but the holy scripture and therefore we are well contented with them that agreeth with these things, howbeit they be in another manner of speaking or confession different apartly to this ours in words, for rather should the matter be considered than the words. And therefore we make it free for all men to use their own sort of speaking as they shall perceive most profitable for their churches, and we shall use the same liberty. And if any man shall attempt to corrupt the true meaning of this our confession he shall hear both a confession and a defence of the verity and truth. It was our pleasure to use these words at this present time that we might declare our opinion in our religion and worshipping of God.

Next he cites the preface to the 1560 Scots Confession:

[I]f any man will note in our Confession any chapter or sentence contrary to God's Holy Word, that it would please him of his gentleness and for Christian charity's sake to inform us of it in writing; and we, upon our honour, do promise him that by God's grace we shall give him satisfaction from the mouth of God, that is, from Holy Scripture, or else we shall alter whatever he can prove to be wrong.

The theme of all historic Reformed confessions and creeds and catechisms is that they aim to teach only that which is agreeable to the Word of God, and not to perpetuate the opinions and traditions of man unsubstantiated by God's Word. The only rule of faith is the Word of God, and creedal statements are subordinate to that standard. Their authority is derivative from the true source of authority, God's Word, but insofar as it is agreeable to the same, it is authoritative indeed.

Reformer and Poet

One day in 1548, soon after Theodore Beza arrived in Geneva, John Calvin entered Beza's room, unbeknownst to his friend, and found lying on a desk a draft versification of Psalm 16 by the young Reformer. He took it, and with the agreement of other ministers to whom he showed the paper, succeeded in persuading young Beza to try his hand at further poetic versifications of the Psalms. This lead to the completion of the Genevan Psalter (1551-1562) following Clement Marot's early death (he died in 1544 having put 30 psalms to metre).

Earlier that year, before his conversion and arrival at Geneva, Beza in fact had published his Poëmata, or Juvenilia, a collection of poems written mostly before he turned 20 (he was 28 or 29 when they were published) dedicated his mentor (and Calvin's), Melchior Wolmar, that were more elegant and more innocent than later critics would assume. Beza would later describe his Latin epigrams as being "in imitation of the ancient poets," naming elsewhere Catullus and Ovid. He would later express regret for writing these particular poems, identifying them with the errors of his youth, though his opponents took occasion to ascribe a corruption to them which was not there. Henry Baird writes: "On that score, nothing more need be said than that not many of the Juvenilia are open to the charge of indelicacy, while many are above reproach" (Theodore Beza, Counsellor of the Reformation 1519-1605, p. 30).

But in his new life after conversion, he embraced the psalmody of Geneva, and tried to redeem his poetic gift. Thus, the Huguenot Psalter was completed and Reformation Psalmody was strengthened.

All his life, Beza retained a love of poetry. He regretted some of his youthful poetic labors and the fact that, rightly or wrongly, they became the basis of certain calumnies leveled against the Reformation. He would mainly write prose thereafter, but the Genevan Psalter is a shining example of how he would redeem his noteworthy poetic gifts. He continued to write poetry from time to time, as well as a play, Abraham Sacrifiant, published in 1550. It was translated into English in 1575 (published in 1577) by Arthur Golding under the title The Tragedy of Abraham's Sacrifice. It is available to read online in modern spelling here (and in the original spelling here).

Beza has been often quoted as saying, "I have never been able to repent of my love of poetry." The context of this statement is worthy of elaboration. It was in the preface to his play that he wrote:

I admit that by nature I have always delighted in poetry, and I cannot yet repent of it; but much do I regret to have employed the slender gifts with which God has endowed me in this regard, upon things of which the mere recollection at present makes me blush. I have therefore given myself to such matters as are more holy, hoping to continue therein hereafter.

There is in this statement some measure of guilt it seems, and there is a sense in which his religious poetic and playwright efforts are an expiation, or an atonement, for youthful misdeeds, real or perceived. Talents wastefully employed by him in younger days were applied to more serious and eternal endeavors. But the gifts themselves were not to be denied, and the poetry in Beza would flow all throughout his life.

He wrote an epigram upon the death of his dear friend, John Calvin, originally in Latin, which reads:

Rome's greatest terror he, whom now being dead
The best of men lament, the wicked dread:
Virtue itself from him might virtue learn; -
And dost thou ask why Calvin did not earn
A place more splendid for his last repose,
Than that small spot which does his bones inclose?
But know, that modesty even from the womb
Had been his guest, - and she has built his tomb.
O happy clod! thy tenant, great was he;
The gorgeous shrines may justly envy thee.

Not long after his wife Claudine died in 1588, he wrote a poem for Jacques Lect, a Councilman in Geneva who likewise lost his wife, in which he honored Claudine and expressed his own grief while consoling his friend.

In 1595, he wrote a poem to his friend Grynaeus, pastor of Basel. Henry Baird writes (ibid, pp. 341-342:

But up to the end of his life the passion for letters continued, and now that the time for sustained labours had clearly passed, it was chiefly in poetry that he continued to divert himself, the epigram which had been the pastime of his youth thus becoming the solace of his old age. The homeliest circumstance of every-day life afforded subject enough for verses — Latin verses, of course—in which the trivial occurrence was turned to spiritual account and made to bear a higher interpretation. In the freedom of familiar correspondence with his old friend, Grynaeus, the pastor of Basel, he jots down, for example, the fact that that very morning of his seventy-sixth birthday, his aged servant had greeted him on awaking with news from the poultry- yard. A hen had been bought a month before and had been lost sight of at once; she just now appears, but not alone; fifteen little chickens, her progeny, follow and crowd about her.

"You see," he writes to Grynaeus, "by this homely incident how unconventionally I treat you. I gave thanks for this increase of wealth to the Author of all good, and I saw in it—shall I tell you ?—without regarding myself in this as being guilty of superstition—the presage of some special favour. I even composed on this subject an epigram, and I send it to you, in order not to leave you a stranger to these light relaxations of my mind." Heppe, 315.

The eight verses enclosed were of faultless Latinity, but need not be transcribed here. The thought was simple but pious. The hen bought but a month ago rewards her purchaser, who expended for her but ten sous, with a whole brood of young. "And I, O Christ full of benignity, what fruits have I returned to Thee in the seventy-six years that I have lived until now?"

In the late 1590's, a curious rumor was spread that Beza was at death's door, and that indeed he had died, having returned to the Roman fold on his death-bed. Beza himself was very much alive and found it amusing (one may well imagine he would appreciate Mark Twain's remark that "Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated") but found it necessary to dispel the rumor with a letter and satirical epigram.

There is a story told about a famous visitor who visited him around the year 1600 and found him busily scratching out and re-working poetic verses to which Beza pleasantly responded by saying "This is the way that I beguile my time!"

The last poem he published was a tribute to King Henry IV, who visited him in Geneva in 1599. "It was a poem of six stanzas, Ad inclytum Franciae et Navarrae regem Henricum IV. ("to the renowned King of France and Navarre, Henry IV.") 'It was his last, his swan song.'" (Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church, Vol. 8 § 175, quoting Heinrich Heppe, Theodor Beza. Leben und ausgewählte Schriften, p. 310).

Beza's poetry was a pleasant diversion or pastime for him, but a gift to the church, especially in the form of the Huguenot Psalter. He will always be remembered for his prose writings, but he was a poet and a playwright too, and if I may be permitted a brief allusion to a modern composer, Alan Lerner, "Don't let it be forgot / that once there was a spot" where poetry and the Reformation came together in Beza's Geneva.

Credit Where Credit Is Due

Jean Garnier (d. 1574) was a pastor of the Reformed Church at Strasbourg, France 1544/1545-1549, 1552-1555 and 1569-1574. His pastoral career had its up and downs, including a period of conflict with local magistrates in the mid-1550's over his doctrine of the Lord's Supper. It is believed that to Garnier is due credit for overseeing the production of the 1545 and 1553 Strasbourg Psalters.

The significance of this is noteworthy for a particular reason. It is often claimed that John Calvin authored a hymn which appears in only those two Strasbourg Psalters (published when he was not the pastor of that church) and not in any of the Genevan Psalters, or any Psalter that he superintended. The hymn is "Salutation à Jésus-Christ," or "I Greet Thee Who My Sure Redeemer Art." While this attribution is widespread, and has bearing on the important question of Calvin's views towards exclusive psalmody, it is doubted by notable scholars who have delved into Calvin's role in the production of the Strasbourg and Genevan Psalters. Rather, it has been proposed that Jean Garnier is the most likely author of this hymn.

Emmanuel Orentin Douen, Clement Marot et le Psautier Huguenot, Vol. 1, p. 452, on the hymn in question:

Ce morceau n'est point, on le voit, une traduction de la Bible, mais une composition libre qui ne rentre dans la maniere de Calvin, et dont Garnier est peut-etre l'auteur. ("This item is not at all, one sees, a translation of the Bible, but a free composition which does not fit Calvin's manner, and of which Garnier is perhaps the author.")

Erik Routley and Peter Cutts (ed.), An English-Speaking Hymnal Guide (2005), p. 83:

386. I GREET THEE, WHO MY SURE REDEEMER ART

5 st. 10 10.10 10

French: JE TE SALUE, MON CERTAIN REDEMPTEUR, which according to Douen appears in the Strasbourg Psalter (1545), and according to E. [Pierre] Pidox is certainly in the edition of 1553 but not that of 1548. It has been attributed to John Calvin, but Pidoux judges this ascription very unlikely; also attr. to J. Garnier, which Pidoux says is mere "guesswork" (Le Psautier Huguenot, 1962). It must be regarded as anonymous.

Michael Bushell, The Songs of Zion, p. 168 (footnote 3):

The hymn "I Greet Thee Who My Sure Redeemer Art" is sometimes attributed to Calvin, but there is no real evidence for his authorship. For a discussion of the background and evidence, see Armin Haessler [Haeussler], The Story of Our Hymns (St. Louis: Eden Publishing House, 1952), pp. 306-309. Felix Bovet of Neuchatel in his Histoire du psautier des Eglises Reformees (1872) held Calvin's authorship to be rather doubtful. O. Douen in his Clement Marot et le psautier Huguenot (1878) ascribes it to Jean Garnier. Prof. Eduard Reuss of Strasbourg, though originally skeptical about Calvin's authorship, nonetheless includes it in his compilation of the Lesser Works of Calvin in the Corpus Reformatorum, Vol. 34, 1867. Philip Schaff, Christ in Song, p. 678, also attributes it to Calvin. The hymn first appeared in the 1545 edition of the French Psalter, Strasbourg, four years after Calvin left.

John Julian, A Dictionary of Hymnology (1892), p. 579:

Je Te salue, mon certain Redempteur. Jehan Calvin (?) [Praise to Christ.] This hymn, entitled "Salutation a Jesus-Christ," first appeared in the edition of the French Psalter, published at Strassburg in 1545, the Strassburg copy of which unfortunately perished in the destruction of the Town Library during the bombardment of Strassburg in the Franco-German war. It has been ascribed to Calvin, but F. Bovet, in his Histoire du Psautier des Eglises Reformees, 1872, and Dr. E. Reuss, of Strassburg, who included it in 8 st. of 8 lines in the "Lesser Works of Calvin" (Corpus Reformatorum, 1867, vol. xxxiv.), both regard his authorship as very doubtful. O. Douen, in his Clement Marot et le Psautier Huguenot, 1878-79, thinks it probable that the author was Jean Garnier, then Minister of the French Congregation at Strassburg. Mr. Bannerman gives an interesting summary of the evidence as a preface to his translation (see below).

D. Douglas Bannerman translated this hymn and prefaced his translation with the following comments, "Calvin's Hymn to Christ," in W.G. Blaikie, ed., The Catholic Presbyterian, Vol. II. July-Dec. 1879 (Dec. 1879), p. 458-459:

It would be more correct to say of this hymn that it is ascribed to Calvin than that it was certainly written by him. The first edition of the French metrical Psalter was published at Strassburg in 1539. The discovery of a solitary surviving copy in the library at Munich was made a few years ago by M. Douen, in the way described by Professor Mitchell in his interesting article, in the March number of this journal, on "Calvin and the Psalmody of the Reformed Churches." This primitive Psalter contained eighteen psalms, and three sacred songs, published with the music. Four of these psalm versions are certainly by Calvin (25, 38, 46, 91); and it is probable that he is also the author of the versions of Psalm 36, the Song of Simeon, and the Decalogue.

Several editions followed, a full account of which is given by M. Bovet in his very valuable work, "Histoire du Psautier des Eglises Reformers," Paris, 1872, pp. 247-52.

The hymn entitled "Salutation a Jesus Christ," a translation of which I give below, occurs only in the Strassburg edition of 1545 (so lovingly described by Bovet, p. 252), which opened with Calvin's celebrated preface: "Jehan Caluin a tous Chrestiens et amateurs de la parolle de Dieu," John Calvin to all Christians and lovers of the Word of God. Dr. Schaff ascribes this hymn to Calvin without sign of doubt—adding, " It reveals a poetic vein, and a devotional fervour and tenderness, which one could hardly have suspected in the severe logician." "Christ in Song," Lond. 1870, p. 549. It may be observed, however, in passing—as Dr. Schaff would no doubt readily admit—that those who regard Calvin simply or chiefly as "a severe logician," know very little of the man, and of the qualities revealed especially in his letters. Compare the references in Cunningham, "Reformers and Theology of the Reformation," pp. 11 f., 313 f.

The English translation contributed to Dr. Schaff's collection by Mrs. H. B. Smith of New York, is careful and accurate; but, from following closely the metre of the original, it has, perhaps, a certain stiffness, which I have tried to avoid in the subjoined translation, by choosing an English metre of a simpler kind. The Rev. W. Fleming Stevenson gives five verses of Mrs. Smith's translation in his admirable little volume, "Hymns for the Church and Home," Lond. 1873, p. 149. There is also a German translation by Dr. Stahelin. of Bale, the biographer of Calvin. Reuss puts the hymn, along with nine psalms, the Song of Simeon, and the Ten Commandments in French verse, among Calvin's "Lesser Works" ("Corpus Reform.," vol. xxxiv. Brunsv. 1867), and says in his " Prolegomena," p. xxii, after going over the facts regarding them, so far as known : "We place, therefore, those psalms at the end of the service-book, as a genuine work of Calvin, of less importance, indeed, from a theological or poetical standpoint, but still unique of its kind, and noteworthy, if but on this account, that it is now for the first time brought out from its concealment. To these should be added that older poetical version of the Decalogue, which we have found to bo altogether different from that of Marot. Bovet has made us doubtful of the Calvinian origin of the Song of Simeon. Much less do we venture to commend to our readers the other sacred songs, which we have noted above as different from those of Marot's collection, as being the works of Calvin ; indeed, the learned author, to whom we have referred (Bovet), has propounded to us several considerations of much weight (gravissimas), by which he holds that it may be proved that these productions should be ascribed to some other than Calvin." But since this question appears worthy of fuller discussion, and one which should be submitted to the judgment of other learned men also, who have, it may be, chosen, or may hereafter choose, to cultivate for themselves this department in the history of French literature, we have thought that we should do a tiling not altogether useless by reserving a few pages for those songs, regarding which there is still some doubt.

Sherman Isbell, in an extended discussion of the authorship of this hymn, writes in his article, The Singing of Psalms:

The most likely supposition respecting the authorship of the "Salutation à Jésus Christ" is that it was produced by the man who bore primary responsibility for the only two psalters in which it was included [Jean Garnier].

My own studies lead me to believe it is likely, even probable, that Jean Garnier is the author of this hymn, although it is difficult to say so definitively. It is with greater certainty that one may say there is "no real evidence" to ascribe authorship of the hymn to John Calvin.

There appears to be strong evidence of another case of widespread mistaken attribution involving a work truly done by Jean Garnier. "A Brief and Clear Confession of the Christian Faith, containing an hundred articles, according to the order of the Creed of the Apostles, 1550" is included in the Later Writings of Bishop Hooper, and often ascribed to John Hooper elsewhere. However, the editor of that work allows that he has never seen the "1550" edition, but relies rather upon editions dated 1581 and 1584. In fact, as demonstrated by Don Ross, the claim of Hooper's authorship is untenable, and Francis Higman too has actually traced the history of this work to Jean Garnier. Hooper translated it, but he was not the first to translate it into English (editions of which were published in 1581 and 1584), only the third (other translations having been published in 1562 and 1579 previously). Yet, somehow, it was included in Hooper's Works and therefore he has long mistakenly been given credit for a work that was truly authored by Garnier.

Don Ross goes through the internal clues (such as a reference in the prologue to the Augsburg Interim, an event which occurred in just prior to, and led to, Garnier's departure from Strasbourg) and compares the translations, as well as events in the life of Hooper (such as another confession that Hooper actually did author in the year 1550), his potential contacts with Jean Garnier, the variants spellings of Garnier (Garner, Gardiner) and their relationship to the texts at hand, and events in the life of Garnier. He traces the translations back to the original, and shows conclusively that the Confession was authored, not by John Hooper, but by Jean Garnier. (Don S. Ross, "Hooper's Alleged Authorship of 'A Brief and Clear Confession of the Christian Faith,'" Church History, Vol. 39, No. 1 (Mar., 1970), pp. 18-29).

Francis Higman, "Theology for the Layman in the French Reformation 1520-1550," in Andrew Pettegree, ed., The Reformation (2004), p. 131:

Jean Garnier, Briefue et claire confession de la foy Chrestienne, Contenant Cent articles, selon l'ordre du Symbole des Apostres, faicte & declaireee l'an 1549.
[Basle], Jacques Estauge, [c. 1551].
Later editions in 1552, 1555, 1558; translated three times into English, by Nicholas Malby (1562; STC 11621), John Brooke (1579; STC 11620.7), and Bishop John Hooper (1581; STC 1219).
Referrences: on this text and its editions, see Philippe Denis, Les Eglises d'etrangers en pays rhenans (1538-1564) (Paris, Belles Lettres, 1984), pp. 537-41.

History does well to sort out such matters and give credit where credit is due, and Jean Garnier has been too often overlooked as the likely author of "Calvin's" hymn and the certain author of Hooper's "Brief and Clear Confession of the Christian Faith."

A biographical sketch of Garnier is found in "Appendix II. Jean Garnier of Strasburg," in Arthur Edmund Garnier, The Chronicles of the Garniers of Hampshire during Four Centuries, 1530-1900 (1900), pp. 120-122.

Christianus Sum, Nihil Christiani A Me Alienum Puto

William Lisle Bowles, Life of Thomas Ken (1830), Vol. 1, p. 172:

"Homo sum, nihil humani a me alienum puto," says the humane voice of Antiquity. "CHRISTIANUS sum," replies the humble CHRISTIAN!

Andrew Campbell Armstrong, The Hartford Seminary Record (1902), Vol. 12, p. 194:

Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto; thus singing, the pagan poet found nothing human of alient interest, seeing that he himself was a man. Christianus sum; Christiani nihil a me alienum puto; so the Christian thinker made religion the basis of his sympathy from the vantage-ground of faith. May we not unite the sentiments and venture a watchword for the Christian in our later age? Christianus sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto, Christianity in sympathy with essential and universal humanity! For who shall challenge the agreement of this motto with the mind of Christ?

Philip Schaff more than once explored how the Christian might adapt that famous saying of Terence, "Homo sum, nihil humani a me alienum puto" (I am a man, I consider nothing that is human alien to me.") (Heauton Timorumenos) and employ a paraphrase which was en vogue among ecumenicals of his day. In fact, he used as the motto of his series, History of the Christian Church, "Christianus sum, nihil Christiani a me alienum puto" ("I am a Christian, I consider nothing that is Christian alien to me") and explained why below. I leave it to the reader to consider wherein consists the noble wisdom of his sentiments and wherein he may have missed the mark.

Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church, Vol. 1., General Introduction. §6 [on the duty of a Christian historian]:

3. Both scientific research and artistic representation must be guided by a sound moral and religious, that is, a truly Christian spirit. The secular historian should be filled with universal human sympathy, the church historian with universal Christian sympathy. The motto of the former is: "Homo sum, nihil humani a me alienum puto;" the motto of the latter: "Christianus sum, nihil Christiani a me alienum puto."

The historian must first lay aside all prejudice and party zeal, and proceed in the pure love of truth. Not that he must become a tabula rasa. No man is able, or should attempt, to cast off the educational influences which have made him what he is. But the historian of the church of Christ must in every thing be as true as possible to the objective fact, "sine ira et studio;" do justice to every person and event; and stand in the centre of Christianity, whence he may see all points in the circumference, all individual persons and events, all confessions, denominations, and sects, in their true relations to each other and to the glorious whole....there is a common Christianity in the Church, as well as a common humanity in the world, which no Christian can disregard with impunity.

Then he must be in thorough sympathy with his subject, and enthusiastically devoted thereto. As no one can interpret a poet without poetic feeling and taste, or a philosopher without speculative talent, so no one can rightly comprehend and exhibit the history of Christianity without a Christian spirit. An unbeliever could produce only a repulsive caricature, or at best a lifeless statue. The higher the historian stands on Christian ground, the larger is his horizon, and the more full and clear his view of single regions below, and of their mutual bearings. Even error can be fairly seen only from the position of truth. "Verum est index sui et falsi." Christianity is the absolute truth, which, like the sun, both reveals itself and enlightens all that is dark. Church history, like the Bible, is its own best interpreter.

Philip Schaff, Theological Propaedeutic: A General Introduction to the Study of Theology Exegetical, Historical, Systematic, and Practical Including Encyclopaedia, Methodology, and Bibliography - A Manual for Students, pp. 257-258:

The moral qualification of the historian may be comprehended in the Christian spirit, which is the spirit of truth and love. "Malice to none, charity for all." The secular historian must have a general sympathy with humanity, according to the motto:

"Homo sum: humani nihil a me alienum puto."

The Church historian must have a general sympathy with Christianity in all its forms and phases, and follow the motto:

"Christianus sum, nihil Christiani a me alienum puto."

No one can interpret poetry without poetic feeling and taste, or philosophy without speculative talent; so no one can rightly comprehend and exhibit the history of Christianity without the spirit that animates and controls it. An unbeliever could produce only a repulsive caricature, or at best a lifeless statue.

The higher the historian stands on Christian ground, the wider is his horizon, and the clearer and fuller his view of the regions below. Even error can be fairly seen only from the position of truth. "Verum est index sui et falsi."

Christianity is the absolute truth, which, like the sun, both reveals itself and enlightens all that is dark.

Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church, Vol. 3., Chap. 8. §102 [on Christian art]:

Man is a being intellectual, or thinking and knowing, moral, or willing and acting, and aesthetic, or feeling and enjoying. To these three cardinal faculties corresponds the old trilogy of the true, the good, and the beautiful, and the three provinces of science, or knowledge of the truth, virtue, or practice of the good, and art, or the representation of the beautiful, the harmony of the ideal and the real. These three elements are of equally divine origin and destiny.

Religion is not so much a separate province besides these three, as the elevation and sanctification of all to the glory of God. It represents the idea of holiness, or of union with God, who is the original of all that is true, good, and beautiful. Christianity, as perfect religion, is also perfect humanity. It hates only sin; and this belongs not originally to human nature, but has invaded it from without. It is a leaven which pervades the whole lump. It aims at a harmonious unfolding of all the gifts and powers of the soul. It would redeem and regenerate the whole man, and bring him into blessed fellowship with God. It enlightens the understanding, sanctifies the will, gives peace to the heart, and consecrates even the body a temple of the Holy Ghost. The ancient word: "Homo sum, nihil humani a me alienum puto," is fully true only of the Christian. "All things are yours," says the Apostle. All things are of God, and for God. Of these truths we must never lose sight, notwithstanding the manifold abuses or imperfect and premature applications of them.

Credo ut intelligam: Anselm's 900th Anniversary

Nine hundred years ago today, the great Christian philosopher Anselm died (on April 21, 1109). Dr. Jerry W. Crick once wrote that "it was St. Anselm of Canterbury (1033-1109) who helped to span the historical and theological gap between the labors of men in the early Church and the groundwork that led finally and directly to the Reformation in Europe, first under Martin Luther, and then more thoroughly and effectively under John Calvin" (Jerry W. Crick, "The Doctrine of the Satisfaction of the Divine Justice by the Lord Jesus Christ as Seen in St. Anselm of Canterbury's Cur Deus Homo," n Joseph A. Pipa, Jr. and C.N. Willborn, eds., Confessing Our Hope: Essays Celebrating the Life and Ministry of Morton H. Smith, p. 57).

The life and work of the man who wrote (Proslogion) Neque enim quaero intelligere ut credam, sed credo ut intelligam. Nam et hoc credo, quia, nisi credidero, non intelligam. (Nor do I seek to understand that I may believe, but I believe that I may understand. For this, too, I believe, that, unless I first believe, I shall not understand) -- building on Augustine's statement (Sermons 43.7, 9) crede, ut intelligas (believe so that you may understand) and Paschasius Radbertus' argument in Faith, Hope and Love that faith precedes reason (cf. Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church, Vol. 4, Chap. 14, § 173) -- is being celebrated by conferences and other events at Canterbury Cathedral, the University of Kent at Canterbury and elsewhere this week.

In dark times for the Christian Church, God shined forth his light and raised up an Anselm. May the Lord be pleased to raise up such giants of the faith in our day.

Anselm, Meditations and Prayers to the Holy Trinity and our Lord Jesus Christ, p. 125:

O Christ, my God, my Hope, of men Thou Lover and Delight,
My Life, Light, Health, Peace, of Thine the Grace and Glory bright,
For whose salvation Thou didst deign their every ill to bear,
The flesh, the bonds, the cross, the wound, the death and sepulchre;
Then after three days, over death triumphant didst arise,
To raise Thy servants' drooping hearts, to glad their downcast eyes;
Then on the fortieth, high above the Heaven of Heavens didst soar,
Where now Thou ever livest, where Thou reignest evermore.

In essentials, unity; in nonessentials, liberty; and in all things, charity

Have you ever heard the saying "unity in necessary things; liberty in doubtful things; charity in all things" or its Latin equivalent "In necessariis unitas, in dubiis libertas, in omnibus caritas"? It has often been attributed to Augustine or to John Wesley or to Richard Baxter or to John Comenius. It is a common saying, employed directly or in abbreviated form for instance by the 19th-century Stone-Campbell (Restoration) Movement, by Methodists, and in Pope John XXIII's 1959 encyclical, Ad Petri cathedram, and it is the motto of organizations ranging from the Evangelical Presbyterian Church to the Moravian Church to the National Grange.

So where does this expression really come from? The source is an irenical 17th-century German Lutheran by the name of Peter Meiderlin (Latinized: Petrus Meuderlinus), who also went by the pseudonym Rupertus Meldenius. During the strife of the Thirty-Years War, he wrote a Latin tract called Paraenesis votiva pro pace ecclesiae ad theologos Augustanae confessionis auctore Ruperto Meldenio Theologo (1626) encouraging theologians in the midst of their controversies to not forget love, which included the closing words: "In a word, were we to observe unity in essentials, liberty in incidentals, and in all things charity, our affairs would be certainly in a most happy situation." This phrase has been repeated many times and attributed to many sources. But the origins of this quote have been documented by the following 19th-century scholars: Jan van der Hoeven, Gottfried Christian Friedrich Lücke, Philip Schaff (History of the Christian Church, Vol. 7, pp. 885). Knowing the source provides the historical context necessary to properly understand this common saying.