Fire in the Bones

1528
Antwerp, the Low Countries

“Came Christ to Make the World More Blind?”

As we sometime in our dreams think we bear heavier than a millstone on our breasts; or when we dream, now and then, that we would run away for fear, our legs seem heavier than lead; even so is the spirit oppressed and overladen of the flesh through custom, that she struggleth and striveth to get up and break loose in vain; until the God of mercy, which heareth her groan through Jesus Christ, come and loose her with his power, and put his cross of tribulation on the back of the flesh, to keep her down, to minish her strength and to mortify her.

—William Tyndale, Exposition upon the
V, VI, and VII Chapters of Matthew

The Parable of the Wicked Mammon

Tyndale’s 1526 New Testament evoked the most serious attacks, but two of his treatises printed in 1528—The Parable of the Wicked Mammonand The Obedience of a Christian Man—also sparked condemnation. The title of the first comes from Christ’s parable in Luke 16 about the unjust steward. Published on May 8, it echoes Luther’s main tenet, the foundation doctrine of all Protestantism—that of justification by faith in the grace of Christ.

Tyndale circulated The Parable of the Wicked Mammon as a defense of faith in Christ as taught in the New Testament, especially in the writings of Paul. The Parable of the Wicked Mammon is not an argument against good works but rather a definition of the cause motivating them. Once a man accepts the redeeming mercy of Christ, his heart fills with the passion of faith, and righteousness flows naturally. This became the crux of Tyndale’s personal creed.

Book of Mormon Doctrine in 1528

The Book of Mormon doctrine of the Atonement’s power to work a “mighty change” of heart (Alma 5:14) can be found in The Wicked Mammon. Alma or King Benjamin could have written the following: “Therefore [faith] is . . . mighty in operation, full of virtue, and ever working; which also reneweth a man, and begetteth him afresh, altereth him, changeth him, and turneth him altogether into a new nature and conversation; so that a man feeleth his heart altogether altered and changed.”¹ As Alma wrote, “Marvel not that all mankind . . . must be born again; yea, born of God, changed from their carnal and fallen state, to a state of righteousness, being redeemed of God . . . and thus they become new creatures” (Mosiah 27:25—26).

Other Nephite echoes abound in Tyndale’s address to the new readers of holy writ. Moroni’s counsel to “come unto Christ, and be perfected in him . . . and love God with all your might, mind and strength,” and his promise that God’s grace will then be “sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ . . . that ye become holy, without spot” (Moroni 10:32—33) resound in Tyndale’s comforting words based on the same hope. “See therefore thou have God’s promises in thine heart, and that thou believe them without wavering: and when temptation ariseth, and the devil layeth the law and thy deeds against thee, answer him with the promises; and turn to God. . . . Also remember, that his Son’s blood is stronger than all the sins and wickedness of the whole world; and therewith quiet thyself, and thereunto commit thyself, and bless thyself in all temptation . . . with that holy candle.”²

“If We Fall a Thousand Times in a Day”

The “infinite atonement” (Alma 34:12) taught by Amulek is tenderly announced by Tyndale, who encouraged his readers with the promise “that if through fragility we fall a thousand times in a day, yet if we do repent again, we have alway mercy laid up for us in store in Jesus Christ our Lord.”³ Mormon testifies that in the “meek and lowly in heart,” charity is born of faith and leads a man to “lay hold upon every good thing” (Moroni 7:44, 19). In beautiful prose, Tyndale says the same: “Deeds are the fruits of love; and love is the fruit of faith. Love, and also the deeds, are great or small according to the proportion of faith. Where faith is mighty and strong, there is love fervent, and deeds plenteous, and done with exceeding meekness: where faith is weak, there is love cold, and the deeds few and seldom, as flowers and blossoms in winter.”⁴

Alma taught his son Shiblon to “acknowledge your unworthiness before God at all times” and in that acknowledgment pray, “O Lord, forgive my unworthiness, and remember my brethren in mercy” (Alma 38:14). Tyndale wrote, “Faith, when she prayeth, setteth not her good deeds before her, saying, ‘Lord, for my good deeds do this or that’; nor bargaineth with God, saying ‘Lord, grant me this, or do this or that, and I will do this or that for thee.’ . . . But she setteth her infirmities and her lack before her face, and God’s promises, saying, ‘Lord, for thy mercy and truth, which thou hast sworn, be merciful unto me.’”⁵

“Brewer, Baker, Tailor”

Tyndale’s treatise found its way onto lists of prohibited books and was denounced by the leading bishops and by Sir Thomas More, who called it a “well-spring of wickedness.”⁶ Salvation through faith on Christ, independent of the Church’s seven sacraments, was too strong a threat. However, Tyndale was not writing to the highly placed but to the everyday man “of whatsoever craft or occupation he be of, whether brewer, baker, tailor, victualler,
merchant, or husbandman.”⁷

He wrote, “God looketh not first on thy work as the world doth, as though the beautifulness of the work pleased him as it doth the world, or as though he had need of them. But God looketh first on thy heart . . . he looketh with what heart thou workest, and not what thou workest; how thou acceptest the degree that he hath put thee in, and not of what degree thou art, whether thou be an apostle or a shoemaker.”⁸

Medieval society was divided into three categories: the nobility, who did the fighting; the clergy, who did the praying; and everybody else, who did the working. Not needing to work showed one’s quality and importance in the community. The creation of a middle class based on trade was slowly changing this worldview. And here came Tyndale preaching the New Testament doctrine that each man labor as though his efforts were done for Christ (Ephesians 6:5—9; Colossians 3:22—24). This doctrine elevated all trades—from seamstress to chimney sweep—to service to God.

Serving God required the best that could be offered. Calvin strongly pushed this doctrine, which, in time, crossed the Atlantic to become the basis of the American work ethic, but Tyndale had published its essential points years before Calvin launched his theology in Geneva. Obviously, awakening the mind to the truth of scripture was going to have some society-changing effects.

The Obedience of a Christian Man

On October 2, 1528, The Obedience of a Christian Man issued from the Antwerp press of Hoochstraten, once again under the alias of Hans Luft of Marburg. The network that smuggled religious books was becoming increasingly efficient, as well as lucrative, and soon conversation in England turned toward Tyndale’s latest attack on the status quo. Tyndale wrote The Obedience of a Christian Man in response to accusations leveled at him and his fellow reformers and to encourage those being persecuted for owning his New Testament.

Tyndale’s opponents blamed the revolts occurring in Europe on the reformers. In Germany, peasants had risen, creating chaos and atrocities in many provinces until savagely put down. Rome was mercilessly sacked by Charles V’s troops, many of whom were Protestants. In Wycliffe’s days, Wat Tyler’s Peasants’ Revolt, a rebellion of the lower class against the nobility and clergy, was laid at the feet of that early reformer. Because the whole world order was being swept away by the foolishness of men like Tyndale, the church had to control who read and interpreted the Bible.

Tyndale asserted, to the contrary, that past and current crises were not caused by God’s word in mother tongues but by abuses of the nobility and clergy. Tyndale was not, despite claims to the contrary, trying to stir up rebellion in England, especially against the king. But scripture taught obedience to God, not man. The removal of clerical immunity and influence in state affairs was necessary. In time, these ideas spread beyond the vision of Tyndale and led to the separation of church and state.

Discerning the Poison from the Honey

Tyndale stated eloquently that his translations were needed so that the very problems he was accused of creating could be prevented. The scriptures were the source from which all Christian virtue flowed. Why could not the world see the reasonableness of making them available to all? As in The Wicked Mammon, Tyndale derived his points from the scriptures themselves. To the argument that the English language was so rough that it could not handle the nobility of God’s voice, he responded:

“All that the apostles preached, were no doubt preached in the mother tongue. Why then might they not be written in the mother tongue? . . . They will say it cannot be translated into our tongue, it is so rude. It is not so rude. . . . The Greek tongue agreeth more with the English than with the Latin. And the properties of the Hebrew tongue agreeth a thousand times more with the English than with the Latin.”⁹

Common people needed the scriptures to protect them from falsehood and temptation. How could anyone, in conscience, take this safeguard away from them? True, they might at first stumble in understanding, but if taught to read the scriptures intelligently, even the most humble could find enlightenment therein. If the Holy Spirit could inspire the writer, the Holy Spirit could also enlighten the reader.

“I would have you teach them also the properties and manner of speakings of the scripture, and how to expound proverbs and similitudes [parables],” Tyndale wrote. “And then, if they go abroad and walk by the fields and meadows of all manner of doctors and philosophers, they could catch no harm: they should discern the poison from the honey, and bring home nothing but that which is wholesome.”¹⁰

The thirteenth article of faith enjoins the Saints to seek the lovely and virtuous. Tyndale tells us exactly how to do that. When we immerse ourselves in the scriptures, they provide a standard by which we may judge everything—the art on our walls, the music in our stereos, the books on our shelves, and the movies on our televisions.

Many Costly Schoolmasters

The purpose of the church was to teach God’s children. Tyndale brought this point home in a way every laboring parent understood: “When a whole parish of us hire a schoolmaster to teach our children, what reason is it that we should be compelled to pay this schoolmaster his wages . . . and to leave our children untaught? . . . Have we not given our tithes of courtesy unto one, for to teach us God’s word[?] . . . And thus are we never taught, and are yet nevertheless compelled; yea, compelled to hire many costly schoolmasters.”¹¹

Tyndale could be sarcastic if the occasion required. Many a poor man knew the truth of the following: “The parson sheareth, the vicar shaveth, the parish priest polleth, the friar scrapeth and the pardoner pareth. We lack but a butcher to pull off the skin.”¹² Considering that Cardinal Thomas Wolsey may have been a butcher’s son, the hint was sure to be grasped.

A compromise solution would be to teach the priests so that they could teach the lay members. “But, alas!” many of them knew “no more what the new or old Testament meaneth, than do the Turks,” Tyndale observed.¹³ If they had English Bibles, however, they could “teach them the testament and promises which God hath made unto us in Christ, and how much he loveth us in Christ; and teach them the principles and the ground of the faith, and what the sacraments signify: and then shall the Spirit work with thy preaching, and make them feel.”¹⁴

This last phrase is typical Tyndale, the perfect expression of his thoughts in a short, pithy, moving sentence. Such a sentence could have come from the mind of Nephi, who testified: “When a man speaketh by the power of the Holy Ghost the power of the Holy Ghost carrieth it unto the hearts of the children of men” (2 Nephi 33:1).

“Hath He Not Made the English Tongue?”

Tyndale had little hope that the church would teach the plain text of the Testaments. Was there no recourse for the weaver and the cobbler? He believed there was and that God would provide it. He wrote, “If any man thirst for the truth, and read the scripture by himself, desiring God to open the door of knowledge unto him, God for his truth’s sake will and must teach him.”¹⁵ Tyndale also wrote, “One scripture will help to declare another. And the circumstances, that is to say, the places that go before and after, will give light unto the middle text.”¹⁶

All depended on an English text accessible to the layman. Quoting Psalms in a message to the clergy, Tyndale wrote: “‘Happy are they which search the testimonies of the Lord.’ . . . But how shall I that do, when ye will not let me have his testimonies, or witnesses, in a tongue which I understand? Will ye resist God? Will ye forbid him to give his Spirit unto the lay as well as unto you? Hath he not made the English tongue? Why forbid ye him to speak in the English tongue then, as well as in the Latin?”¹⁷

Two millennia before Tyndale penned those questions, the Lord inspired Nephi to engrave similar queries regarding the translation of the Book of Mormon. “Wherefore murmur ye because that ye shall receive more of my word?. . . . I speak forth my words according to mine own pleasure. And because I have spoken one word ye need not suppose that I cannot speak another” (2 Nephi 29:8—9). The same spirit operated in both men. Even the cadence of each passage corresponds. While the world awaited visits from Moroni, God had not left mankind untutored.

Tyndale’s ability to dive to the heart of a matter with trenchant questions is seen throughout The Obedience.Hinting at his full translating aspirations, which included the Old Testament, he cut a new swath through his opponents with each succeeding inquiry. “What is the cause that we may not have the old Testament, with the new also, which is the light of the old. . . ? Came Christ to make the world more blind?”¹⁸

First Teacher of Civil Disobedience

Tyndale knew the people would remain in darkness as long as the king felt threatened by the Bible’s publication. His thought now turned to the matter of obedience. Subjects were bound by God’s law to obey the civil powers that were accountable to God.

“All rulers . . . wield an authority from God, and must be obeyed. At the head of all stands the king, who has no superior. . . . Though kings are supreme, they may not rule as they list. They are servants of their people, and must treat every man, no matter how humble, as a brother. . . . Let kings do their duty to the people, and rule their own kingdom; let them put the priests to their own proper work, strip them of their worldly honours and riches, and set good laymen in the chief offices of state. . . . Let the king rule in fact as well as in name, and decide his own matters.”¹⁹

Tyndale was arguing in favor of separation of church and state. Considering the difficulties Henry VIII would have with Pope Clement VII over his divorce from Catherine, these were provocative words indeed.

What if the man proved to be a tyrant? “What then is the duty of the Christian in this terror? He must disobey ungodly commands, but he must never resist by force,” Tyndale counseled.²⁰ Rebellion brought chaos! All resistance must be passive. If resistance brought punishment, it was to be borne with meekness and a peaceful heart. Tyndale taught civil disobedience in the spirit of Henry David Thoreau and Gandhi. Much in The Obedience of a Christian Man harmonizes perfectly with statements about government in section 134 of the Doctrine and Covenants and in the twelfth article of faith.

In one of the great ironies of history, Sir Thomas More, who accused Tyndale of disloyalty and rebellion against the king, later did exactly what Tyndale suggested when Henry VIII pressured him to compromise his own conscience. More remained quietly resistant until his own martyrdom.

An Ally in Anne Boleyn

At the time The Obedience of a Christian Man was published, Henry was enamored with Anne Boleyn. Anne was raised in France, where she learned all the graces that held Henry captivated and yet at bay for six long years while the wrangling over his divorce dragged on. She was influenced by the French humanists and looked favorably upon the reforming spirit. Her deluxe copy of Tyndale’s 1534 New Testament, complete with the words Anna Regina Angliae (Anne, Queen of England) inscribed on the gold leaf edge of the pages, is in the British Library. The book is believed to have been a gift from Richard Herman, the Antwerp merchant whom Anne helped. Henry learned of the existence of The Obedience through Anne, who owned a copy.

Anne lent The Obedience to Anne Gainford, one of her gentlewomen, who was being courted by George Zouch. In jest he snatched the book from her hand and began to read. He was so entranced with it that, despite her pleading, he took it to read further. As chance would have it, the dean of the king’s chapel, a Dr. Sampson, noticed Zouch reading during a service and demanded he turn the book over. Everyone was on the lookout for contraband from the Continent. Delighted with his discovery,
the dean went straight to Cardinal Wolsey, who in turn went to the king.

Anne was not popular with certain parties, and possession of a copy of The Obedience could, perhaps, lead to her downfall. Wolsey misjudged his influence, which was waning because of his failure to produce the coveted annulment of Henry’s first marriage. In the interlude, Anne Boleyn asked Anne Gainford for her book, whereupon Anne fell on her knees, confessing that a young man had taken it from her and had lost it to the dean of the king’s chapel, who had subsequently turned it over to Cardinal Wolsey.

“The Lady Anne shewed herself not sorry, nor angry with either of the two. But, said she, well, it shall be the dearest book that ever the dean or cardinal took away. The noble woman goes to the king, and upon her knees she desireth the king’s help for her book. Upon the king’s token the book was restored. And now bringing the book to him, she besought his grace most tenderly to read it. The king did so, and delighted in the book. For, saith he, this is a book for me and all kings to read.”²¹

The Obedience of a Christian Mancontinued to be proscribed nevertheless, but Henry could not have failed to interpret it in a manner favorable to himself. How much it stimulated subsequent events is a matter of sharp debate. It is true, however, that in time Henry would limit the clergy to religious matters and confiscate much of their wealth and property—but by that time Tyndale would be dead.

Wolsey’s Fall

Cardinal Wolsey’s own season was running out. The great worldly prelate fell from the king’s favor in the summer of 1528 to be replaced as chancellor by Sir Thomas More in October 1529. In another irony of history, Tyndale had suggested that the high office of chancellor be held by a layman, not by a clergyman. More fit the description, but religious zeal burned even hotter in him than it had in the great cardinal. Sir Thomas’s assessment of his predecessor should have been a lesson for himself, but sermons are always easier to preach to the pews than to the man in the pulpit. “Glorious was he,” More said, “very far above all measure, and that was the great pity, for it did him harm and made him abuse many great gifts that God had given him.”²²

In More and in John Stokesley, soon to be appointed new bishop of London, Tyndale would come up against his most bitter enemies. Sir Thomas More, like Wolsey, would “abuse his many great gifts.” Persecution for those who possessed Tyndale’s translations or other writings would not be quenched until the fires of England devoured a more precious fuel than books.

Notes

^1. Greenslade, Work of William Tindale, 170—71.

^6. More, Complete Works of St. Thomas More,6:i, 291, 424, in Daniell, William Tyndale, 170.

^7. Greenslade, Work of William Tindale, 175.