And now the question before us is, Did the revolution of the sixteenth century which brought into existence Protestant Christianity restore to the children of men this primitive Christianity, as it is described in the New Testament? It would be a task requiring too much time to consider the whole twenty-eight articles of the Augsburgh Confession—the formal expression of what Protestant Christianity was in the days of its first founders. Nor indeed is it necessary in order to arrive at a just conclusion upon the question proposed. The consideration of a few leading items will be sufficient to establish the fact beyond the power of successful contradiction, that the sixteenth century revolution did not restore primitive Christianity.
In regard to the teachings of Protestant Christendom in respect of God, it is sufficient to say it accepts the Nicene creed, instead of the doctrine of the New Testament. It is written in the scripture that man was created in God's likeness; and if man was created in God's likeness then God must be in the form of man. Instead of coming to the world with that primitive Christian truth, emphasized as it was in primitive Christianity by the fact that Jesus Christ was pointed to as being the express image of his Father's person, Protestant Christendom clings to the old error of the Catholic church, that God is an incorporeal, that is an immaterial substance; a being without body—i. e., without materiality—without parts, without passions—accepting rather the theory of pagan philosophers than the plain statements of primitive Christianity.[A] Instead of teaching that the Father was a personage, the Son another personage, and the Holy Ghost another, each as distinct as any three personages on earth, and one only in moral and spiritual attributes, in power—constituting one Presidency or Godhead—they came with the doctrine that these three personages are merged into but one personage, and yet they remain three distinct personages!
[Footnote A: See the writer's "Mormon Doctrine of Deity," Chapter iv.]
Instead of teaching that man must be absolutely obedient to the gospel in order to obtain salvation, Protestants taught that faith alone without works, is sufficient for salvation. And this was the chief corner stone of Protestant theology; the point at which the Roman Catholic church and the Protestant church was most widely separated. The Catholic church, recognizing the operation of God's grace upon man, and also the power of will in man, came to the reasonable conclusion that man had it within their power to be obedient to the commandments of God, and that obedience united with the grace of God was the means of obtaining salvation; that man worked out his salvation both by faith and works. Protestants, however, regarding only those spiritual influences which operate upon man, came to the conclusion that the grace of God alone saved man, and that without any act on his part.
That I may convince you that I am not mistaken in what I say I will read to you some of the sayings of Luther upon this subject. "The excellent, invaluable and sole preparation for grace is the eternal election and predestination of God." This doctrine stands in marked contrast with the teaching of primitive Christianity. I hold that the New Testament scriptures teach in great plainness that God would have all the children of men to be saved, and is willing that none should be lost. But according to the teachings of Martin Luther, and the great body of Protestant Christendom, they would have us believe that there is a part of the great family of God predestined to eternal damnation; and, do what they will, they cannot be saved. Their die is cast, their doom is sealed. They are reprobate, cast out from the affections and love of God. They stand not within the pale of salvation. But the gospel of primitive Christianity was a voice of glad tidings to all men, saying that they could be saved through faith and obedience. I read again from the words of Luther: "On the side of man there is nothing that goes before grace, unless it be impotency, and even rebellion. We do not become righteous by doing what is righteous; but having become righteous, we do what is righteous." "Since the fall of man free will is but an idle word, and every man does walk, and still sins mortally." "A man who imagines to arrive at grace by doing all that he is able to do, adds sin to sin, and is doubly guilty." "That man is not justified who performs many works, but he who without works has much faith in Christ." "What gives peace to our conscience is this—By faith our sins are no longer ours but Christ's, on whom God has laid them all; and on the other hand, all Christ's righteousness belongs to us, to whom God has given it." D'Aubigne says: "The point which the reformer has most at heart (referring to Luther) in all his labors, contests and dangers was the doctrine of justification by faith alone." This is the great Protestant doctrine, that by the act of faith all the righteousness of Jesus Christ is set down to our credit, and all our transgressions, all our sins, are placed upon the shoulders of Jesus Christ, who carries them triumphantly away; and when we shall stand before the bar of God, we shall be judged, not according to the works we have done in this life, not according to the "deeds done in the body," as primitive Christianity taught, but we shall be judged by the righteousness of Jesus Christ, all of which will be credited to us by our act of faith. I could almost wish it were true, this doctrine! Salvation would seem so much more sure. But it is repulsive to reason, absurd to the understanding, and contrary to the teachings of primitive Christianity.
In these doctrinal respects, then, the Protestant movement did not bring back Christianity. Did it bring it back in any other respect? Did it restore the spiritual gifts so characteristic of primitive Christianity? Did it bring back the gift of prophecy, and of revelation; of speaking in tongues, and interpreting them? Did it bring back the power to heal the sick by the laying on of hands and the anointing with oil? Did it bring back the gift of faith, of knowledge, of wisdom, of discernment of spirits? No, it made no claim to these powers, but sought out excuses for the absence of them, and pleaded that they were no longer needed; that they were given in the beginning merely for the purpose of giving Christianity a start in the world and attesting its divine origin by the manifestation of miraculous gifts among its followers. No, the revolution of the sixteenth century did not bring back these gifts and graces of primitive Christianity.
Did it restore the primitive organization of the church? Did it give to the church Prophets, Seventies, Bishops, Priests, Teachers and Deacons, with the divine gifts and graces attendant upon these offices in the church in primitive times, including divine inspiration? Did they make of the church a means, a channel of divine communication between the church and her Lord? No. On the contrary, Protestant Christianity has taught from the days of Luther till now, that Prophets and Apostles were no longer needed in the Church of Christ. It did not restore the primitive Christian church organization; nor did it even restore the plain, simple first principles of the gospel, faith in the true God, repentance from sin, and the laying on of hands for the reception of the Holy Ghost. It did not restore the principle of revelation—Christianity's vital breath—the working force of the primitive Christian church—the link that united her with God and made it possible for her to exist in actual spiritual life. On all these matters the utmost confusion exists among Protestants, but in no sect can these simple principles of primitive Christianity be found in their fulness and in the order in which they are taught in the New Testament. Even from this imperfect and rather hasty consideration of the question I think you will find no difficulty in coming to the conclusion that the sixteenth century movement did not restore primitive Christianity, and hence was not a reformation in that sense.
What the movement in the sixteenth century really was may be best learned by considering what it did. And now you must indulge me while I take a brief retrospect of history.
When that stupendous fabric, the western division of the Roman empire, crumbled to pieces, in the later part of the fifth century, a reign of darkness followed its downfall. The barbarian hosts from the north, like the successive waves of the ocean, beating upon some decaying cliff, repeatedly rushed upon the old Roman civilization, until by sheer force of persistence in attack, they destroyed the great fabric of government which fills so large a space in the world's history. And when it fell, the enlightenment and civilization it had sustained in western Europe went with it. In the centuries that followed there arose that great spiritual hierarchy, known as the Roman Catholic Church, the head of which was recognized in the pope of Rome. The barbarian tribes which overthrew western Rome, in the days of their paganism, had given unwonted veneration to their Druid priests and to the chief Druid they had accorded the power of a god. Hence it was easy for them to accept the idea that the chief bishop of the Christian church was God's vicegerent on earth, and to honor him as they would honor God was equally free from difficulty. The Roman pontiffs were not the men to refuse to take advantage of that superstition. They fostered it, and drew to themselves all the honor which before time the pagans had accorded to the chief priests in paganism. Hence it happens that the popes of Rome were able to draw to themselves all the power that was needed to rule the nations with a rod of iron, and with impunity they planted their feet upon the necks of temporal monarchs.
When the eastern division of the great empire fell before the repeated attacks of the Turks; and that part of the old Roman political fabric went to pieces, instead of darkness following its fall, it was an event which brought light at least to western Europe; for when the eastern Romans fled before their successful enemies, and came to western Europe, they brought in their hands the literature of ancient Greece, and the works of the ancient masters were translated into the European languages. About that time, too, the art of printing had been invented, so that this rich treasury of knowledge, locked up hitherto in the Greek language, was translated into the European languages, and through this marvelous invention of printing was brought within the reach of the people. The influence of that literature upon western minds was marvelous. They not only admired the beauty and the grace of the diction, and enjoyed the legends and stories that were translated for them, but they, too, began to feel aspirations to reach the same high intellectual development that the Greeks themselves had enjoyed; and wherever there is a love for intellectual development, the key is turned to the progress of a people. It proved to be so in this case.