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Book 4, Chapter 13 (4)

John Calvin · Institutes of the Christian Religion · 231 of 275

XV. The differences which I have stated, between the ancient monks and those of the present age, relate not to manners, but to the profession itself. Let it, therefore, be remembered by the readers, that I have spoken of monachism rather than of monks, and have censured those faults which are not merely chargeable on the lives of a few, but which are inseparable from the life itself. The great dissimilarity of their manners can hardly require a particular representation. It is obvious, that there is no order of men more polluted with all the turpitude of vice; none more disgraced by factions, animosities, cabals, and intrigues. In some few convents, indeed, they live in chastity; if chastity it must be called, where concupiscence is so far restrained as not to be publicly infamous; but it is scarcely possible to find one convent in ten, which is not rather a brothel than a sanctuary of chastity. What frugality is there in their food? They are exactly like so many swine fattening in a sty. But lest they should complain that I handle them too roughly, I proceed no further; though in the few particulars upon which I have touched, whoever knows the matter of fact will acknowledge that I have confined myself to the simple truth. Augustine, at a time when, according to his own testimony, monks were so eminent for the strictest chastity, yet complains that there were many vagabonds among them, who, by wicked arts and impostures, extorted money from the unwary, who exercised a scandalous traffic by carrying about the relics of martyrs, and even sold the bones of any dead men as the bones of martyrs, and who brought disgrace on the order by a great number of similar crimes. As he declares that he had seen no better men than those who had been improved in monasteries, so he complains that he had seen no worse men than those who had been corrupted in monasteries. What would he say, at the present day, to see almost all monasteries, not only filled, but overflowing, with so many and such desperate vices? I say nothing but what is notorious to every person; though this censure is not applicable to all without any exception. For as the rule and discipline of holy living has never been so well established in monasteries, but that there were always some drones very different from the rest, so I do not say that the monks of the present day have so far degenerated from that holy antiquity, that there are not still some good men among their body; but they are few, dispersed and concealed among a vast multitude of the wicked and abandoned; and they are not only held in contempt, but insulted and molested, and sometimes even treated with cruelty by the rest; who, according to a proverb of the Milesians, think that no good man ought to be suffered to remain among them.

XVI. By this comparison of ancient and modern monachism I trust I have succeeded in my design of evincing the fallacy of the plea, which the present men of the hood allege in defence of their profession, from the example of the primitive Church; as they differ from the early monks just as apes do from men. At the same time, I admit that even in the ancient system which Augustine commends, there is something which I cannot altogether approve. I grant, they discovered no superstition in the external exercises of a too rigid discipline; but I maintain that they were not free from excessive affectation and misguided zeal. It seemed a good thing to forsake their property in order to exempt themselves from all earthly solicitude; but God sets a higher value on pious exertions for the government of a family, when a holy father of a family, free from all avarice, ambition, and other corrupt passions, devotes himself to this object, that he may serve God in a particular calling. It is a beautiful thing to live the life of a philosopher in retirement, at a distance from the society of men; but it is not the part of Christian charity for a man to act as if he hated all mankind, withdrawing to the solitude of a desert, and abandoning the principal duties which the Lord has commanded. Though we should grant that there was no other evil in this profession, yet certainly this was not a small one, that it introduced a useless and pernicious example into the Church.

XVII. Let us now examine the nature of the vows by which monks in the present day are initiated into this celebrated order. In the first place, their design is to institute a new service, in order to merit the favour of God; therefore I conclude, from the principles already established, that whatever they vow is an abomination in the sight of God. Secondly, without any regard to the calling of God, and without any approbation from him, they invent for themselves a new mode of life, in conformity with their own inclinations; therefore I maintain it to be a rash and unlawful attempt, because their consciences have nothing to rest upon before God, and “whatsoever is not of faith, is sin.”[1088] Thirdly, they bind themselves to many corrupt and impious services, comprehended in the monachism of the present day; therefore I contend, that they are not consecrated to God, but to the devil. For why was it lawful for the prophet to say of the Israelites, that “they sacrificed unto devils, not to God,”[1089] only because they had corrupted the true worship of God with profane ceremonies; and why shall it not be lawful for us to say the same of the monks, whose assumption of the hood is accompanied with the yoke of a thousand impious superstitions? Now, what is the nature of their vows? They promise to God to maintain perpetual virginity, as if they had previously stipulated with him that he should exempt them from the necessity of marriage. They have no room to plead, that they make this vow merely in a reliance on the grace of God; for as he declares that it is not given to all men,[1090] we have no right to entertain a confidence that we shall receive the special gift. Let those who possess it use it: if they experience disquietude from the stimulations of passion, let them have recourse to his aid by whom alone they can be strengthened to resist. If they are unsuccessful, let them not despise the remedy which is offered to them. For those who are denied the gift of continence, are undoubtedly called to marriage by the voice of God. By continence I mean, not a mere abstinence of the body from fornication, but an unpolluted chastity of mind. For Paul enjoins the avoidance not only of external impurity, but also of the internal burning of libidinous desire.[1091] It has been a custom, they say, from time immemorial, for persons who intended to devote themselves entirely to the Lord, to bind themselves by a vow of continence. I confess that this custom was practised in the early ages; but I cannot admit those ages to have been so free from every fault, that whatever was done then must be received as a rule. And it was only by degrees that in process of time things were carried to such an extreme of rigour that no one, after having made the vow, was permitted to recall it. This is evident from Cyprian. “If virgins have faithfully dedicated themselves to God, let them persevere in modesty and chastity without any disguise. Thus, being firm and constant, they may expect the reward of virginity. But if they will not, or cannot persevere, it is better for them to be married, than with their pleasure to fall into the fire.” With what reproaches would they now hesitate to stigmatize a person who would wish to introduce such a reasonable limitation of the vow of continence? They have widely departed, therefore, from the ancient custom, in refusing to admit the least moderation or relaxation, if any one be found incapable of performing the vow; and not only so, but they are not ashamed to pronounce that he commits a greater sin, if he remedies his intemperance by taking a wife, than if he contaminates his body and soul with fornication.

XVIII. But they still pursue the argument, and endeavour to show that vows of this kind were in use in the times of the apostles; because Paul says that widows who, after having been received into the public service of the church, married, had “cast off their first faith.”[1092] I do not deny that widows who dedicated themselves and their services to the Church, thereby entered into a tacit obligation never to marry again; not because they placed any religion in such abstinence, as began to be the case afterwards; but because they could not discharge that office without being at their own disposal, free from the restraint of marriage. But if, after having pledged their faith, they contemplated a second marriage, what was this but renouncing the calling of God? It is no wonder, therefore, if he says that with such desires “they wax wanton against Christ.” Afterwards, by way of amplification, he subjoins, that they failed of performing what they had promised to the Church, so that they even violated and annulled their first faith pledged in baptism; which includes an engagement from every one to fulfil the duties of his calling. Unless it be thought better to understand the meaning to be, that having, as it were, lost all shame, they would thenceforward have no longer any regard for virtue, but would abandon themselves to every kind of profligacy, and in a licentious and dissolute life exhibit the greatest contrariety to the character of Christian women—an interpretation which I much approve. We reply, therefore, that those widows, who were then received into the service of the Church, imposed on themselves the condition of perpetual widowhood; if they afterwards married, we easily understand their situation to have been as Paul states, that, casting off shame, they betrayed an insolence unbecoming Christian women; and that thus they not only sinned in breaking their faith pledged to the Church, but in departing from the common obligations of pious females. But first, I deny that they engaged to remain in a state of widowhood for any other reason than because marriage would be altogether incompatible with the office which they undertook; or that they bound themselves to widowhood at all, except as far as the necessity of their vocation should require. Secondly, I do not admit that their profession was so binding, but that even then it was better for them to marry than to be inflamed with concupiscence, or to be guilty of any impurity of conduct. Thirdly, I observe that Paul prescribes that age which is generally beyond all danger, forbidding any to be received under threescore years old; and especially when he directs that the choice shall be limited to those who have been content with one marriage, and have thus already given proof of their continence. And we condemn the vow of celibacy for no other reason, but because it is unjustly considered as a service acceptable to God, and is rashly made by those who have not the power to keep it.

XIX. But how was it possible to apply this passage of Paul to nuns? For widows were appointed deaconesses, not to charm God by songs or unintelligible murmurs, and to spend the rest of their time in idleness; but to serve the poor on behalf of the whole Church, and to employ themselves with all attention, earnestness, and diligence, in the duties of charity. They made a vow of widowhood, not with a view of performing any service to God in abstaining from marriage, but merely that they might be more at liberty for the discharge of their office. Lastly, they made this vow, not in their youth, nor in the flower of their age, to learn afterwards, by late experience, over what a precipice they had thrown themselves; but, when they appeared to have passed all danger, they made a vow equally consistent with safety and with piety. But, not to urge the two former considerations, it is sufficient to observe, that it was not allowable for women to be admitted to make vows of continence before the age of sixty years; since the apostle says, “Let not a widow be taken into the number under threescore years old.” “I will that the younger women marry and bear children.”[1093] The subsequent admission of this vow at the age of forty-eight years, then forty years, and then thirty, can by no means be excused; and it is still more intolerable that unhappy girls, before they are old enough to be capable of knowing or having any experience of themselves, should be inveigled by fraud and compelled by threats to entangle themselves in those execrable snares. I shall not stay to oppose the other two vows, made by monks and nuns, of poverty and obedience. I will only observe, that beside the many superstitions with which, under existing circumstances, they are interwoven, they appear to be framed for the purpose of mocking both God and men. But that we may not seem too severe in agitating every particular point, we shall content ourselves with the general repetition already given.

XX. The nature of those vows which are legitimate and acceptable to God, I think, has been sufficiently declared. Yet as timid and inexperienced consciences, even after they are dissatisfied with a vow, and convinced of its impropriety, nevertheless feel doubts respecting the obligation, and are grievously distressed, on the one hand, from a dread of violating their promise to God, and, on the other, from a fear of incurring greater guilt by observing it, it is necessary here to offer them some assistance to enable them to extricate themselves from this difficulty. Now, to remove every scruple at once, I remark, that all vows, not legitimate or rightly made, as they are of no value with God, so they ought to have no force with us. For if in human contracts no promises are obligatory upon us, but those to which the party with whom we contract wishes to bind us, it is absurd to consider ourselves constrained to the performance of those things which God never requires of us; especially as our works cannot be good unless they please God, and are accompanied with the testimony of our conscience that he accepts them. For this remains a fixed principle, that “whatsoever is not of faith, is sin;”[1094] by which Paul intends, that whatever work is undertaken with doubts, is consequently sinful, because all good works spring from faith, by which we are assured of their acceptance with God. Therefore, if it be not lawful for a Christian man to attempt any thing without this assurance, and if any one through ignorance has made a rash vow, and afterwards discovered his error, why should he not desist from the performance of it? since vows inconsiderately made, not only are not binding, but ought of necessity to be cancelled; and, also, as they are not only of no value in the sight of God, but are an abomination to him, as we have already demonstrated. It is useless to argue any longer on a subject which does not require it. This one argument appears to me sufficient to tranquillize pious consciences, and to liberate them from every scruple—That all works not proceeding from a pure source, and directed to a legitimate end, are rejected by God, and rejected in such a manner that he forbids our continuance, as much as our commencement, of them. Hence we may conclude, that vows which have originated in error and superstition, are of no value with God, and ought to be relinquished by us.

XXI. This solution will furnish an answer to the calumnies of the wicked, in defence of those who leave monachism for some honourable way of life. They are heavily accused of breach of faith and perjury; having broken, as it is commonly supposed, the indissoluble bond which held them to God and the Church. But I maintain that there is no bond, where that which man confirms is abrogated by God. Besides, though we should grant that they were bound while they were involved in error and ignorance of God,—now, since they have been enlightened with the knowledge of the truth, I maintain that the grace of Christ has delivered them from the obligation. For if the cross of Christ possesses such efficacy as to deliver us from the curse, under which we were held by the law of God, how much more, then, shall it extricate us from other bonds, which are nothing but delusive snares of Satan! Whomsoever, therefore, Christ illuminates with the light of his gospel, there is no doubt that he liberates them from all the snares in which they had entangled themselves by superstition. Though they are not at a loss for another defence, if they are not qualified to live in celibacy. For if an impossible vow be the ruin of souls, which it is the will of the Lord to save and not to destroy,—it follows that it is not right to persevere in it. But the impossibility of an observance of the vow of continence by those who are not endued with a special gift, we have already shown, and without my saying a word, experience itself declares; for it is notorious what extreme impurity prevails in almost all monasteries; and if any of them appear more virtuous and modest than the rest, it does not follow that they are really more chaste, because they conceal the vice of unchastity. Thus God inflicts awful punishments on the audacity of men, when, forgetting their weakness, they covet, in opposition to nature, that which is denied them, and, despising the remedies which God had put into their hands, indulge a contumacious and obstinate presumption that they are able to overcome the vice of incontinence. For what shall we call it but contumacy, when any one who is admonished that he stands in need of marriage, and that it has been given to him by the Lord as a remedy, not only contemns it, but binds himself by an oath to persevere in that contempt?

Reading 231 of 275

This edition is public domain in the United States. Text from Project Gutenberg. Redistribution follows the Project Gutenberg License included with the source eBook. Henry Beveridge translation. Volume 1 is Project Gutenberg ebook 45001 and volume 2 is ebook 64392.

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Book 4, Chapter 13 (4)

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