We are going to race through two and a half centuries of history in a matter of a few short paragraphs. It will be a little like rushing quickly through a picture gallery, but perhaps we may have time to stop and look for a few moments at least at some of the more prominent portraits.
We begin in 1603 with the accession to the throne of James I. Within the church many of the competing forces which had been held in balance under Elizabeth were looking for power and James had hardly been crowned when he was presented with the Millenary Petition, a moderate request on the part of many of Puritan conviction for some changes to the church. Because he was Scottish and had lived all his life under Presbyterian influence, the Puritans may have expected the king to be sympathetic to their case. The reality was quite the opposite. In January 1604, a conference was held at Hampton Court, at which the king made his sympathies clear. “If this is all they have to say, I will make them conform themselves or I will harry them out of this land or else do worse.”
James’ high-handed treatment of the Puritans succeeded only in alienating a large portion of the populace, who once had been loyal to both church and king. The Hampton Court Conference did make one major accomplishment, however. It set in motion a new translation of the Bible, the Bible which has left an imprint on the English language no less than that of Shakespeare and the Book of Common Prayer and which we now call the King James Version.
One who played a major part in the final editing of the King James Bible was Bishop Lancelot Andrewes (1555-1626). Like Jewel and Hooker before him Andrewes developed a powerful apologetic for Anglicanism, this time based not on reason but on history and tradition. Like the work of Jewel and Hooker it was measured an irenic in tone and held a place for those who did not share his belief in the episcopate: “Even if our order be admitted to be of divine authority, it does not follow that without it there can be no salvation, or that without it a church cannot stand. Only a blind man could fail to see churches standing without it. Only a man of iron could deny that salvation is to be found within them.” Andrewes is perhaps best known for a work that appeared after his death, a collection of remarkable private devotions entitled Preces Privatæ, whose prayers have found a use in the church second only to the Book of Common Prayer.
Contemporary with Andrewes was John Donne (1573-1631), dean of St Paul’s Cathedral in London, whose sermons and poetry reveal a depth of passionate conviction that would be remarkable in any age, expressed in an eloquence that has never been surpassed. The dark themes of sin, judgement and death give a sombre background to the message of Christ’s redemption.
The reign of James I saw the flowering of another of brilliant poet in the person of George Herbert (1593-1633). A country parson who faithfully drew his parish together for prayers twice daily, Herbert’s poetry gives voice to a deep and abiding love for Christ and for his church.
15 November 2007
14 November 2007
Our Anglican Heritage: (8) The Elizabethan Settlement
When Elizabeth I was crowned, England, far from enjoying the strength and stability of her father Henry VIII, was a weak and divided nation. It is difficult to determine precisely where Elizabeth’s deepest sympathies lay. Certainly she oversaw the re-introduction of the Book of Common Prayer to the English Church. Yet she herself was known to persist in a number of practices decried as “Catholic” at the time. No doubt she recognized that Mary’s disastrous reign had succeeded only in making England irreversibly Protestant.
One issue that had to be dealt with early in Elizabeth’s reign was the Prayer Book. There were still many who were not satisfied with Cranmer’s work. On one side there were those who would have wished for something more “Catholic”, more in line with the traditional practice of the church as they knew it. On the other were those who would become known as Puritans, who longed for a book that gave full expression to the doctrines of the Continental Reformation as many of them had experienced it during their years of exile.
The result was a compromise, a book that differed in few (but significant) respects from Cranmer’s work of 1552. Once again we might look at the words of administration of holy communion to perceive the flavor of the new book. This time the words of 1549 (“The body of our Lord Jesus Christ which was given for you…”) were attached to those of 1552 (“Take and eat this in remembrance…”). The result was a set of words which, though cumbersome, gave expression to both God’s gracious initiative and our faithful response.
A measure of what had happened in Elizabeth’s reign can also be found in what we know as the “Thirty-Nine Articles” of Religion. During the reign of Edward VI Thomas Cranmer had formulated forty-two such articles, setting forth the position of the Church of England both as in continuity with the most ancient practices of the church and as a thoroughly Reformed body. These articles were edited and revised, seven of them removed entirely and four added. The result is a carefully worded document, showing the Church of England to have chosen a “middle way” between the perceived excesses of the mediæval Roman Church on the one hand and the “left wing” of the Reformation, or Anabaptists, on the other. While there is much in the Articles that relates to the debates of a former century, they emphasize Christ’s all-sufficient sacrifice on the cross, the centrality of faith and the supreme authority of holy Scripture in all matters of faith and life.
Neither the Prayer Book nor the Thirty-Nine Articles satisfied everyone in the Church of England. Yet, if only for the moment, a measure of stability had been achieved and the groundwork had been laid for its development. We could not close our discussion of Elizabeth’s reign without the mention of two significant figures. The first of these is John Jewel, Bishop of Salisbury. It may have been he who first used the term “Anglican” in its modern sense, in the title of his publication Apologia pro Ecclesia Anglicana. Taking his cue from the Elizabethan settlement, Jewel used his extensive scholarship and careful reasoning to defend the Anglican Church against the attacks of Roman Catholics on the one side and Puritans on the other.
One of his students was Richard Hooker, who was one of the most able apologists in the history of Anglicanism. In his Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity he blended measured argument and biblical reasoning to defend the Church of England against the attacks of both Puritans and the Roman Church. Both Hooker and Jewel before him lay the groundwork for that irenical faith which carefully and sympathetically seeks to see an argument from both sides, measures it against the standard of Scripture (properly understood) and seeks to arrive at a middle way, avoiding legalism on the one hand and antinomianism on the other—an approach which represents all that I believe is best in Anglicanism.
One issue that had to be dealt with early in Elizabeth’s reign was the Prayer Book. There were still many who were not satisfied with Cranmer’s work. On one side there were those who would have wished for something more “Catholic”, more in line with the traditional practice of the church as they knew it. On the other were those who would become known as Puritans, who longed for a book that gave full expression to the doctrines of the Continental Reformation as many of them had experienced it during their years of exile.
The result was a compromise, a book that differed in few (but significant) respects from Cranmer’s work of 1552. Once again we might look at the words of administration of holy communion to perceive the flavor of the new book. This time the words of 1549 (“The body of our Lord Jesus Christ which was given for you…”) were attached to those of 1552 (“Take and eat this in remembrance…”). The result was a set of words which, though cumbersome, gave expression to both God’s gracious initiative and our faithful response.
A measure of what had happened in Elizabeth’s reign can also be found in what we know as the “Thirty-Nine Articles” of Religion. During the reign of Edward VI Thomas Cranmer had formulated forty-two such articles, setting forth the position of the Church of England both as in continuity with the most ancient practices of the church and as a thoroughly Reformed body. These articles were edited and revised, seven of them removed entirely and four added. The result is a carefully worded document, showing the Church of England to have chosen a “middle way” between the perceived excesses of the mediæval Roman Church on the one hand and the “left wing” of the Reformation, or Anabaptists, on the other. While there is much in the Articles that relates to the debates of a former century, they emphasize Christ’s all-sufficient sacrifice on the cross, the centrality of faith and the supreme authority of holy Scripture in all matters of faith and life.
Neither the Prayer Book nor the Thirty-Nine Articles satisfied everyone in the Church of England. Yet, if only for the moment, a measure of stability had been achieved and the groundwork had been laid for its development. We could not close our discussion of Elizabeth’s reign without the mention of two significant figures. The first of these is John Jewel, Bishop of Salisbury. It may have been he who first used the term “Anglican” in its modern sense, in the title of his publication Apologia pro Ecclesia Anglicana. Taking his cue from the Elizabethan settlement, Jewel used his extensive scholarship and careful reasoning to defend the Anglican Church against the attacks of Roman Catholics on the one side and Puritans on the other.
One of his students was Richard Hooker, who was one of the most able apologists in the history of Anglicanism. In his Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity he blended measured argument and biblical reasoning to defend the Church of England against the attacks of both Puritans and the Roman Church. Both Hooker and Jewel before him lay the groundwork for that irenical faith which carefully and sympathetically seeks to see an argument from both sides, measures it against the standard of Scripture (properly understood) and seeks to arrive at a middle way, avoiding legalism on the one hand and antinomianism on the other—an approach which represents all that I believe is best in Anglicanism.
13 November 2007
Our Anglican Heritage: (7) The Reign of Queen Mary
While events were moving apace on the liturgical front, all was not well in the political realm. Within months of the Accession of Edward VI to the throne, Protector Somerset’s position of power had been usurped by the rapacious Duke of Northumberland. Although a man of avowedly Protestant sympathies, Northumberland was far more interested in amassing power and wealth for himself, with the result that corruption and the abuse of power were rife throughout the land. This meant that as long as it did not affect public justice and morality, the Reformation was prevented from taking hold in any sweeping and all-inclusive sense.
In any case, the reign of the sickly Edward was not to last for long. A scant eighteen months after the introduction of the Second Prayer Book, the king succumbed to his final illness, a lad of just sixteen. He was succeeded on the throne by his half-sister, Mary Tudor, daughter of Catherine of Aragon. Throughout the reign of Edward Mary had remained loyal to the Pope. Perhaps more significantly she had witnessed her mother being cruelly pushed from her throne and for twenty years had suffered the ignominy of being viewed as illegitimate. Now her hour of ascendancy had arrived, and the bloodiest chapter in the history of England was begun.
Mary lost no time in re-establishing ties with Rome. The Prayer Book of 1552 was rescinded. Cranmer and the other Protestant bishops were removed from their sees and more than a fifth of the clergy from their parishes as heretics, many of them fleeing for safety into exile on the European continent.
Soon Thomas Cranmer, along with fellow bishops John Hooper, Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley, were brought to trial for promulgating their Protestant teachings, and sentenced to death by burning. The story of Archbishop Cranmer is particularly poignant. Under conditions of extreme deprivation and weakness, he was induced to sign a document recanting of his Protestant convictions. It did not take him long to recognize the enormity of what he had done and he revoked his recantation with the words,
And now I come to the great thing which so troubleth my conscience, more than any other thing that I said or did in my life: and that is my setting abroad of writings contrary to the truth, which things here now I renounce and refuse, as things written with my hand contrary to the truth which I thought in my heart… And forasmuch as my hand offended in writing contrary to my heart, it shall be first burned.
On 21 March 1556 in Oxford Thomas Cranmer was led to the stake. In his History of the Christian Martyrs John Foxe, a contemporary, reports,
And when the wood was kindled, and the fire began to burn near him, he stretched forth into the flames his right hand, which had signed his recantation, and there held it so steadfastly, that the people might see it burned to a coal before his body was touched…
Five months earlier, on the same site, on 16 October 1555, Bishops Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley had also been burned at the stake. Bishop Latimer’s words to his colleague, reported again by John Foxe, deserve to be quoted: “Be of good comfort, Mr Ridley, and play the man! We shall this day light such a candle, by God’s grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.”
In addition to these brave bishops, more than three hundred Protestants and Protestant sympathizers were put to death in Mary’s bloody reign. Mercifully that reign was short. What it achieved in its course of five years was not to retrieve England for Roman Catholicism but to seal the English Reformation with the blood of martyrs.
In any case, the reign of the sickly Edward was not to last for long. A scant eighteen months after the introduction of the Second Prayer Book, the king succumbed to his final illness, a lad of just sixteen. He was succeeded on the throne by his half-sister, Mary Tudor, daughter of Catherine of Aragon. Throughout the reign of Edward Mary had remained loyal to the Pope. Perhaps more significantly she had witnessed her mother being cruelly pushed from her throne and for twenty years had suffered the ignominy of being viewed as illegitimate. Now her hour of ascendancy had arrived, and the bloodiest chapter in the history of England was begun.
Mary lost no time in re-establishing ties with Rome. The Prayer Book of 1552 was rescinded. Cranmer and the other Protestant bishops were removed from their sees and more than a fifth of the clergy from their parishes as heretics, many of them fleeing for safety into exile on the European continent.
Soon Thomas Cranmer, along with fellow bishops John Hooper, Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley, were brought to trial for promulgating their Protestant teachings, and sentenced to death by burning. The story of Archbishop Cranmer is particularly poignant. Under conditions of extreme deprivation and weakness, he was induced to sign a document recanting of his Protestant convictions. It did not take him long to recognize the enormity of what he had done and he revoked his recantation with the words,
And now I come to the great thing which so troubleth my conscience, more than any other thing that I said or did in my life: and that is my setting abroad of writings contrary to the truth, which things here now I renounce and refuse, as things written with my hand contrary to the truth which I thought in my heart… And forasmuch as my hand offended in writing contrary to my heart, it shall be first burned.
On 21 March 1556 in Oxford Thomas Cranmer was led to the stake. In his History of the Christian Martyrs John Foxe, a contemporary, reports,
And when the wood was kindled, and the fire began to burn near him, he stretched forth into the flames his right hand, which had signed his recantation, and there held it so steadfastly, that the people might see it burned to a coal before his body was touched…
Five months earlier, on the same site, on 16 October 1555, Bishops Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley had also been burned at the stake. Bishop Latimer’s words to his colleague, reported again by John Foxe, deserve to be quoted: “Be of good comfort, Mr Ridley, and play the man! We shall this day light such a candle, by God’s grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.”
In addition to these brave bishops, more than three hundred Protestants and Protestant sympathizers were put to death in Mary’s bloody reign. Mercifully that reign was short. What it achieved in its course of five years was not to retrieve England for Roman Catholicism but to seal the English Reformation with the blood of martyrs.
12 November 2007
Our Anglican Heritage: (6) The Second Prayer Book (1552)
It may have been that Cranmer already had a second book in mind. In any case, a second Prayer Book did appear in 1552, incorporating a multitude of major revisions. The two daily services (now called simply “Morning Prayer” and “Evening Prayer”) were transformed into clearly congregational acts of worship (rather than private devotional offices) by the addition of an Exhortation, General Confession and Absolution at the beginning.
The changes to the Holy Communion service were considerably more extensive. Stone altars were to be removed from the “east” end of churches, to be replaced by a simple wooden table in the front of the Nave, around which the congregation could gather at communion time and with the celebrant in clear sight of the people and dressed in the simplest of robes.
The nine-fold “Kyrie” was replaced by the Ten Commandments, unquestionably influenced by the Continental Reformation. The Intercession or Prayer for the Church was now a Prayer for the Church Militant here in earth, with any prayer for the dead clearly expunged. It was removed from the Great Thanksgiving and placed in its now familiar position following the Offertory, which was no longer an offering of the elements of bread and wine, but an opportunity for members of the congregation to share their goods with the poor of the parish.
The Invitation, Confession, Absolution and Comfortable Words were shifted from their place immediately before the administration of communion to an earlier point in the service, immediately before the “Sursum Corda”. Interestingly, the Prayer of Humble Access now followed the Sanctus. This detached the reference to Christ’s body and blood from immediate reference to the bread and wine of Holy Communion, a reference which Cranmer had never intended in the first place.
Most significantly, Cranmer made the reception of the bread and wine by the people the climax of the service. He achieved this by abruptly chopping the Eucharistic Prayer in two, so that immediately following our Lord’s words of institution and without even so much as an “Amen” the people receive the bread and wine. Then they say the Lord’s Prayer together and the Eucharistic Prayer concludes with a prayer either of oblation (self-offering) or of thanksgiving.
Nobody knows precisely why Cranmer followed this with the “Gloria in Excelsis”, transferred from its traditional place at the outset of the service. However, many presume that it was because, just before they went out from the last supper, our Lord and his disciples “sang a hymn”. Whatever the motive, the Gloria helps to conclude the service on a note of praise, echoing as it does both the hymn of the angels at Jesus’ birth and John the Baptist’s proclamation of him as the incomparable Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. After this act of praise, the congregation departs with a blessing.
A graphic illustration of the difference between the Prayer Books of 1549 and 1552 can be observed in the words of administration at Holy Communion. In 1549 these had been, “The body of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was given for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life.” In 1552 they became, “Take and eat this in remembrance that Christ died for thee, and feed on him in thy heart by faith with thanksgiving.” The worshipper had moved from being a passive recipient of the sacrament to an active participant, required to take the bread into his or her hands and, more significantly, to receive it with a heart of grateful faith in the Lord who gave up his life for him on the cross.
The changes to the Holy Communion service were considerably more extensive. Stone altars were to be removed from the “east” end of churches, to be replaced by a simple wooden table in the front of the Nave, around which the congregation could gather at communion time and with the celebrant in clear sight of the people and dressed in the simplest of robes.
The nine-fold “Kyrie” was replaced by the Ten Commandments, unquestionably influenced by the Continental Reformation. The Intercession or Prayer for the Church was now a Prayer for the Church Militant here in earth, with any prayer for the dead clearly expunged. It was removed from the Great Thanksgiving and placed in its now familiar position following the Offertory, which was no longer an offering of the elements of bread and wine, but an opportunity for members of the congregation to share their goods with the poor of the parish.
The Invitation, Confession, Absolution and Comfortable Words were shifted from their place immediately before the administration of communion to an earlier point in the service, immediately before the “Sursum Corda”. Interestingly, the Prayer of Humble Access now followed the Sanctus. This detached the reference to Christ’s body and blood from immediate reference to the bread and wine of Holy Communion, a reference which Cranmer had never intended in the first place.
Most significantly, Cranmer made the reception of the bread and wine by the people the climax of the service. He achieved this by abruptly chopping the Eucharistic Prayer in two, so that immediately following our Lord’s words of institution and without even so much as an “Amen” the people receive the bread and wine. Then they say the Lord’s Prayer together and the Eucharistic Prayer concludes with a prayer either of oblation (self-offering) or of thanksgiving.
Nobody knows precisely why Cranmer followed this with the “Gloria in Excelsis”, transferred from its traditional place at the outset of the service. However, many presume that it was because, just before they went out from the last supper, our Lord and his disciples “sang a hymn”. Whatever the motive, the Gloria helps to conclude the service on a note of praise, echoing as it does both the hymn of the angels at Jesus’ birth and John the Baptist’s proclamation of him as the incomparable Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. After this act of praise, the congregation departs with a blessing.
A graphic illustration of the difference between the Prayer Books of 1549 and 1552 can be observed in the words of administration at Holy Communion. In 1549 these had been, “The body of our Lord Jesus Christ, which was given for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life.” In 1552 they became, “Take and eat this in remembrance that Christ died for thee, and feed on him in thy heart by faith with thanksgiving.” The worshipper had moved from being a passive recipient of the sacrament to an active participant, required to take the bread into his or her hands and, more significantly, to receive it with a heart of grateful faith in the Lord who gave up his life for him on the cross.
09 November 2007
Our Anglican Heritage: (5) The first Book of Common Prayer
The death of King Henry VIII in 1547 provided Thomas Cranmer and those who yearned for a genuine reformation of the Church of England with the opportunity they had long awaited. Henry was succeeded on the throne by his son Edward, just nine years of age. Real power lay in the hands of the Royal Protector, Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford and Duke of Somerset, and a man with deep Reformed convictions. Within months things began to change. Protestant clergy were free to teach the doctrines of the Reformation, churchwardens empowered to remove images and icons, and printers permitted to publish Protestant tracts. The Epistles and Gospels were required to be read in English and the communion to be administered in both kinds. The clergy were permitted to marry, allowing Cranmer’s own wife to appear publicly at her husband’s table after a dozen years of marriage.
At the same time Cranmer and twelve other bishops proceeded with the task of preparing a Prayer Book entirely in the English language. The first step towards this was the production, in 1548, of what we might now call the “penitential rite” (the Invitation, Confession, Comfortable Words, Absolution and Prayer of Humble Access) which was to be said immediately prior to the reception of the bread and wine at Holy Communion. In addition to this the Nicene Creed and the Lord’s Prayer were both to be recited in the English tongue.
The introduction of the first full Book of Common Prayer came the following year and was required to be in use in all parishes in the realm by Pentecost 1549. We shall give more time to the study of the principles represented in this book two weeks hence. Briefly, though, it was remarkable in three ways. First, it offered a single set of services in a single volume for every diocese and parish, thereby eliminating both the profusion of local rites that had grown up and the use of a whole variety of service books—missals, breviaries, primers, ordinals and others. Secondly, it combined the seven daily “offices” into two services—Matins and Evensong, each of which gave primacy to the reading of the Old and New Testaments. Thirdly, the Communion service was transformed from a priestly mass into “the Supper of the Lord” in which the congregation had a full part as participants and not just spectators.
Those familiar with Rite I in the Episcopal Prayer Book of 1979 would have no trouble recognizing the words of this service. The order in which they appear might seem strange to us, however, as they still follow the pattern of the mediæval mass. The service begins with the Lord’s Prayer and Collect for Purity, followed by the nine-fold “Kyrie” or Lesser Litany (“Lord, have mercy upon us…) and then the “Gloria in Excelsis” in its traditional, early position. This is followed by the Mutual Salutation, the Collect of the Day and the Collect for the King, then the Epistle, the Gospel and the Creed. Next comes the sermon or homily, and one of two lengthy Exhortations, setting out the meaning of Holy Communion. Immediately afterwards comes the Offertory, the “Sursum Corda” (“Lift up your hearts…”) and the “Sanctus” (“Holy, holy, holy…”). Next is the Intercession or Prayer for the Church, flowing immediately into the Great Thanksgiving or Eucharistic Prayer. This in turn is followed by the Lord’s Prayer, the Peace and then the Penitential Rite, after which the people would receive the bread and wine of Holy Communion. The service concluded with a post-communion prayer of thanksgiving and the Blessing.
From the beginning the new service book met with mixed reviews. Those who were strongly Reformation-minded complained that it had not moved far enough away from mediæval ritual and doctrine. Martin Bucer, the liberal-minded reformer, who had unsuccessfully attempted to bring together Luther and Zwingli on the Continent and who had come over as Professor of Divinity at Oxford, wrote, at Cranmer’s request, a lengthy theological critique of the book. On the other side of the debate, there were riots in Cornwall, where people refused to use the book because it simply traded one language that they did not understand to another which they not only did not speak but resented having it foisted on them. The final blow to the book was administered by Bishop Stephen Gardiner, a bitter adversary of Cranmer, who claimed that he could use the book without compromising any of his Catholic presuppositions.
At the same time Cranmer and twelve other bishops proceeded with the task of preparing a Prayer Book entirely in the English language. The first step towards this was the production, in 1548, of what we might now call the “penitential rite” (the Invitation, Confession, Comfortable Words, Absolution and Prayer of Humble Access) which was to be said immediately prior to the reception of the bread and wine at Holy Communion. In addition to this the Nicene Creed and the Lord’s Prayer were both to be recited in the English tongue.
The introduction of the first full Book of Common Prayer came the following year and was required to be in use in all parishes in the realm by Pentecost 1549. We shall give more time to the study of the principles represented in this book two weeks hence. Briefly, though, it was remarkable in three ways. First, it offered a single set of services in a single volume for every diocese and parish, thereby eliminating both the profusion of local rites that had grown up and the use of a whole variety of service books—missals, breviaries, primers, ordinals and others. Secondly, it combined the seven daily “offices” into two services—Matins and Evensong, each of which gave primacy to the reading of the Old and New Testaments. Thirdly, the Communion service was transformed from a priestly mass into “the Supper of the Lord” in which the congregation had a full part as participants and not just spectators.
Those familiar with Rite I in the Episcopal Prayer Book of 1979 would have no trouble recognizing the words of this service. The order in which they appear might seem strange to us, however, as they still follow the pattern of the mediæval mass. The service begins with the Lord’s Prayer and Collect for Purity, followed by the nine-fold “Kyrie” or Lesser Litany (“Lord, have mercy upon us…) and then the “Gloria in Excelsis” in its traditional, early position. This is followed by the Mutual Salutation, the Collect of the Day and the Collect for the King, then the Epistle, the Gospel and the Creed. Next comes the sermon or homily, and one of two lengthy Exhortations, setting out the meaning of Holy Communion. Immediately afterwards comes the Offertory, the “Sursum Corda” (“Lift up your hearts…”) and the “Sanctus” (“Holy, holy, holy…”). Next is the Intercession or Prayer for the Church, flowing immediately into the Great Thanksgiving or Eucharistic Prayer. This in turn is followed by the Lord’s Prayer, the Peace and then the Penitential Rite, after which the people would receive the bread and wine of Holy Communion. The service concluded with a post-communion prayer of thanksgiving and the Blessing.
From the beginning the new service book met with mixed reviews. Those who were strongly Reformation-minded complained that it had not moved far enough away from mediæval ritual and doctrine. Martin Bucer, the liberal-minded reformer, who had unsuccessfully attempted to bring together Luther and Zwingli on the Continent and who had come over as Professor of Divinity at Oxford, wrote, at Cranmer’s request, a lengthy theological critique of the book. On the other side of the debate, there were riots in Cornwall, where people refused to use the book because it simply traded one language that they did not understand to another which they not only did not speak but resented having it foisted on them. The final blow to the book was administered by Bishop Stephen Gardiner, a bitter adversary of Cranmer, who claimed that he could use the book without compromising any of his Catholic presuppositions.
Our Anglican Heritage: (4) Thomas Cranmer
08 November 2007
Our Anglican Heritage: (3) The Marital Woes of Henry VIII
At the same time other developments had been taking place within England itself. Henry VIII had been on the throne since 1509. He had inherited a wealthy kingdom blessed with peace and a very stable power base from his father, Henry VII, the founder of the Tudor dynasty. However by 1527 he was still without a son to inherit his kingdom and his wife, Catherine of Aragon was beginning to show the signs of premature aging.
Into the scenario steps Anne Boleyn, a young woman who he thought had the potential of making the perfect wife. Only one problem stood in the way: Catherine. Henry, however, was no fool and he thought he had a way around her. Catherine had herself been previously married to Henry’s older brother Arthur, who had died in his teens. This had made her technically ineligible to be Henry’s bride and their marriage was allowed only after papal dispensation on the basis that her former marriage to Arthur had never been consummated. Was it possible, argued Henry, that the series of sickly and stillborn babies born to Catherine were a sign that God’s blessing did not rest on their union after all?
So it was that Henry began a campaign to have the church declare that his marriage to Catherine had never been valid in the first place. He was not seeking a divorce. As a devout Catholic (indeed something of a self-styled theologian), he would not have admitted the legitimacy of remarriage after divorce (nor did the Church of England for more than four and a half centuries). What Henry was seeking was an annulment.
That, however, was no easy matter. For Catherine was well connected internationally. Her nephew was Charles V of Spain, who in 1527 had sacked Rome and kidnapped the pope himself. The memory of that painful episode and the threat of worse if the annulment were granted ruled out any hope of a favorable response from the pope. What was Henry to do?
The answer was to consolidate his power at home, within the borders of his own kingdom. In this Henry had the statute books in his favor. Since 1393 there had been a law called the statute of Præmunire, which restricted papal intervention in the affairs of the English church. Henry had the courts broaden its application to the point where in 1529 he could unseat the powerful Cardinal Wolsey and force the clergy into recognizing the king as “especial Protector, only and supreme Lord, and, as far as the law of Christ allows, even supreme Head” of the church. By 1534 the payment of annates (a levy on diocesan and parish revenues) to Rome had been restricted, appeals to the authority of Rome were abolished, all the legal rights and duties of the pope were transferred to the monarchy and the Act of Supremacy declared the king as head of the church, this time omitting the crucial clause “as far as the law of Christ allows”.
Henry’s control of the church was complete. In fact the rejection of papal authority met with little opposition. And Henry’s goal from the beginning had been achieved, for the newly-appointed Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, had already declared his marriage to Catherine null and Anne Boleyn had been crowned as his queen on the Day of Pentecost, 1533.
Into the scenario steps Anne Boleyn, a young woman who he thought had the potential of making the perfect wife. Only one problem stood in the way: Catherine. Henry, however, was no fool and he thought he had a way around her. Catherine had herself been previously married to Henry’s older brother Arthur, who had died in his teens. This had made her technically ineligible to be Henry’s bride and their marriage was allowed only after papal dispensation on the basis that her former marriage to Arthur had never been consummated. Was it possible, argued Henry, that the series of sickly and stillborn babies born to Catherine were a sign that God’s blessing did not rest on their union after all?
So it was that Henry began a campaign to have the church declare that his marriage to Catherine had never been valid in the first place. He was not seeking a divorce. As a devout Catholic (indeed something of a self-styled theologian), he would not have admitted the legitimacy of remarriage after divorce (nor did the Church of England for more than four and a half centuries). What Henry was seeking was an annulment.
That, however, was no easy matter. For Catherine was well connected internationally. Her nephew was Charles V of Spain, who in 1527 had sacked Rome and kidnapped the pope himself. The memory of that painful episode and the threat of worse if the annulment were granted ruled out any hope of a favorable response from the pope. What was Henry to do?
The answer was to consolidate his power at home, within the borders of his own kingdom. In this Henry had the statute books in his favor. Since 1393 there had been a law called the statute of Præmunire, which restricted papal intervention in the affairs of the English church. Henry had the courts broaden its application to the point where in 1529 he could unseat the powerful Cardinal Wolsey and force the clergy into recognizing the king as “especial Protector, only and supreme Lord, and, as far as the law of Christ allows, even supreme Head” of the church. By 1534 the payment of annates (a levy on diocesan and parish revenues) to Rome had been restricted, appeals to the authority of Rome were abolished, all the legal rights and duties of the pope were transferred to the monarchy and the Act of Supremacy declared the king as head of the church, this time omitting the crucial clause “as far as the law of Christ allows”.
Henry’s control of the church was complete. In fact the rejection of papal authority met with little opposition. And Henry’s goal from the beginning had been achieved, for the newly-appointed Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, had already declared his marriage to Catherine null and Anne Boleyn had been crowned as his queen on the Day of Pentecost, 1533.
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