The Man Behind the Theology
Calvin's theology expresses his temper and character. The oil portrait of him in the library of the University of Geneva shows a face mysteriously sad and severe, pale and dark in color, with a short black beard, a high forehead and eyes bold but piercing. Looking at it, one wonders how a man of such small and frail frame could govern and lead a city. But in that frail body lay a rich intellect, an unbreakable will and perhaps a firm resolve to reach power. His intelligence raised him in Protestant theology to the rank of Thomas Aquinas. His memory was confused but sharp. Because he doubted the truth of astrology he was ahead of his time, but because he rejected Copernicus's ideas he belonged to it. He was heir to old traditions in attributing, like Luther, many events in the world to the devil. His shyness overshadowed his courage and his modesty his native pride. His humility before the Creator sometimes made him treat people in a commanding way. He was oversensitive and impatient under criticism, and, as one who believes he never errs, could not bear others' reproof. Ill health and the exhaustion of overwork sometimes made him testy, and this appeared in eloquent and fiery speech. He told Bucer that he could not tame the "wild beast of anger." He lacked the humor that might temper self-confidence, and had no sense of the beauty that might spare the church's works of art. Yet he advised his followers to live cheerfully, amuse themselves with harmless recreations such as bowls and quoits, and drink wine in moderation. He was a warm, kind friend and at the same time a stubborn, fiery and vindictive enemy. His servants feared him, but those who knew him well loved him.
In sexual matters his life was pure. He lived simply, ate little, fasted without any wish for display, slept no more than six hours in the twenty-four, worked on holidays and devoted all his time to what he thought necessary to serve God. He refused extra pay, but spared no effort in raising money for the poor. Pope Pius IV is reported to have said of him that the power of this renegade came from the fact that money never tempted him; if he, the pope, had such servants, he would extend his realm over the whole world. A man of Calvin's zeal and manliness naturally had many enemies. With stubbornness and the quarrelsome language of the time he fought them, calling them scoundrels, fools and various animals (I abbreviate the epithets). Such names suit the polemical style of Luther better than Calvin's dignified Latin prose. But in judging Calvin's conduct toward his enemies we must not forget what provoked his anger.
Bolsec and the Doctrine of Predestination
One day Jérôme Bolsec, a former French monk, interrupted Calvin's sermon in St. Pierre and called his doctrine of predestination an insult to the Creator. Calvin answered him from Scripture, and the officers arrested Bolsec. The Consistory charged him with heresy, and the Great Council was inclined to sentence him to death, but when the opinion of the theologians of Zurich, Basel and Bern was asked, they opposed executing him. Bern advised caution in judging matters hard for man to grasp, and Bullinger reminded Calvin that many people disagreed with the predestination in his Institutes and drew from it conclusions like Bolsec's. The Great Council contented itself with banishing Bolsec (1551). He returned to France and to the Catholic faith.
Westphal and the Lutherans
Most interesting was Calvin's dispute with Joachim Westphal, a Lutheran pastor of Hamburg, who called the view of Zwingli and Calvin that Christ is present in the Supper only spiritually "devilish blasphemy" and said the theologians of Switzerland should be suppressed not by pen and argument but by the magistrates' whip. Calvin's reply was so sharp that his fellow reformers in Zurich, Basel and Bern refused to sign it. Calvin published it all the same. Westphal and a few Lutherans attacked Calvin in turn; he called them "Luther's apes," and the reasoned answer he gave them turned some Lutheran regions of Germany, such as Brandenburg, the Palatinate, parts of Hesse, Bremen, Anhalt and Baden, to the thought of the Swiss theologians and the Reformed Church. Only Melanchthon's silence (he secretly agreed with Calvin) and the echo of Luther's thundering voice after his death kept other Lutheran regions of Germany from turning to Calvinism.
Italian Dissenters
Hardly had Calvin finished with these quarrels when he met a group of radicals who had lately fled to Switzerland from counter-reformation Italy. Caelius Secundus Curio, who taught at Lausanne and Basel, angered Calvin by declaring that the number of the saved, including unbelievers, was far greater than that of those doomed to eternal torment. Laelius Socinus, son of a well-known Italian jurist, settled in Zurich and, to understand Scripture better, studied Greek, Arabic and Hebrew; after much study he lost his faith in the Trinity, predestination, innate sinfulness and Christ's atonement. He shared his unbelief with Calvin, who answered his intellectual difficulties as far as he could. Socinus promised not to make his unbelief public, but later protested the execution of Servetus, and so joined the handful of people who in that stormy age defended religious freedom.
Patriots and Libertines
In a city where religion and government were mixed, constant clash between Calvin and the Patriots and Libertines, who had once driven him out and were now sorry to see him back, was natural and unavoidable. The Patriots opposed Calvin's French nationality and his circle, condemned his beliefs, called him Cain and named their dogs Calvin. They mocked and insulted him in the streets, and perhaps it was they who one night fired fifty shots beside his house. The Libertines based their faith on pantheism and did not believe in the devil, angels, the Garden of Eden, Christ's atonement, Scripture or the pope; Queen Margaret of Navarre sheltered them at her court at Nérac and reproached Calvin for his harshness toward them.
On June 27, 1547, Calvin found a placard on his pulpit reading, in part: "Hypocrite! You and your gang will gain nothing by your efforts. If you do not save yourself by fleeing the city, your rule will be overthrown, and you will curse the day you left the monastic life. When the knife reaches the bone, the people will take revenge. Remember that you have no more protector than Ami Perrin's [garbled in the book, reconstructed] ... We want no more of so many rulers." (I abridge the text; the book's passage is partly garbled.)
Jacques Gruet, a prominent Libertine, was arrested for writing the placard, with no evidence or sign. It was said that a few days earlier he had made threatening remarks against Calvin. In his house were found letters in his hand in which he called Calvin a double-faced, domineering and ambitious man and mocked belief in the soul's immortality and in the divine revelation of Scripture. After thirty days of torture, twice a day, he confessed at last to hanging the placard on the pulpit and plotting with the French against Calvin and Geneva (I omit the details). It is not known how far his confession was true. He was executed on July 26.
The book's account of what followed is garbled; it appears that unrest kept growing until, on December 16, 1547 (the date is as given in the book and may be misplaced), armed bands of Patriots and Libertines burst into the hall of the Great Council and demanded that the Consistory's interference in the residents' lives and work end. At the height of the uproar, Calvin entered the hall and stood before the leaders of the opposing bands. Beating his breast, he said: "If you are thirsty for blood, a few drops still remain in my breast. Cut it open quickly." Swords were raised, but no one dared to be the first to plunge a sword into Calvin's breast. With rare composure he spoke to those present and at last persuaded the hostile bands to stop their quarrel. The incident evidently shook his confidence: on December 17 he wrote to Viret, "I do not think the life of the Church, at least under my leadership, will be long. Believe me, I have no strength left unless the Lord himself helps me." But dissension broke out among his opponents, and they stayed in Geneva as scattered groups until the trial of Servetus gave them another chance to test their strength.