§ 12. Zwingli and the Sale of Indulgences

Bernhardin Samson, a Franciscan monk of Milan, crossed the St. Gotthard to Switzerland in August, 1518, as apostolic general commissioner for the sale of indulgences. He is the Tetzel of Switzerland, and equalled him in the audacious profanation of holy things by turning the forgiveness of sins and the release from purgatorial punishment into merchandise. He gave the preference to the rich who were willing to buy letters of indulgence on parchment for a crown. To the poor he sold the same article on common paper for a few coppers. In Berne he absolved the souls of all the departed Bernese of the pains of purgatory. In Bremgarten he excommunicated Dean Bullinger (the father of Henry) for opposing his traffic. But in Zurich he was stopped in his career.

Zwingli had long before been convinced of the error of indulgences by Wyttenbach when he studied in Basle. He had warned the people against Samson at Einsiedeln. He exerted his influence against him in Zurich; and the magistracy, and even the bishop of Constance (who preferred to sell indulgences himself) supported the opposition. Samson was obliged to return to Italy with his "heavy, three-horse wagon of gold." Rome had learned a lesson of wisdom from Luther's Theses, and behaved in the case of Samson with more prudence and deference to the sentiment of the enlightened class of Catholics. Leo X., in a brief of April, 1519, expressed his willingness to recall and to punish him if he had transgressed his authority.⁵³

The opposition to the sale of indulgences is the opening chapter in the history of the German Reformation, but a mere episode in the Swiss Reformation. That battle had been fought out victoriously by Luther. Zwingli came in no conflict with Rome on this question, and was even approved for his conduct by Dr. Faber, the general vicar of the diocese of Constance, who was then his friend, but became afterwards his enemy.

§ 13. Zwingli during the Pestilence.

In the summer of 1519 Zwingli went to the famous bath of Pfäffers at Ragatz to gather strength for his prospectively onerous duties at Zurich, in view of the danger of the approach of the plague from Basle. As soon as he learned, in August, that the plague had broken out in Zurich, he hastened back without stopping to visit his relations on the way. For several weeks he devoted himself, like a faithful shepherd, day after day, to the care of the sick, until he fell sick himself at the end of September. His life was in great danger, as he had worn himself out. The papal legate sent his own physician to his aid. The pestilence destroyed twenty-five hundred lives; that is, more than one-third of the population of Zurich. Zwingli recovered, but felt the effects on his brain and memory, and a lassitude in all limbs till the end of the year. His friends at home and abroad, including Faber, Pirkheimer, and Dürer at Nürnberg, congratulated him on his recovery.

The experience during this season of public distress and private affliction must have exerted a good influence upon his spiritual life.⁵⁴ We may gather this from the three poems, which he composed and set to music soon afterwards, on his sickness and recovery. They consist each of twenty-six rhymed iambic verses, and betray great skill in versification. They breathe a spirit of pious resignation to the will of God, and give us an insight into his religious life at that time.⁵⁵ He wrote another poem in 1529, and versified the Sixty-ninth Psalm.⁵⁶

Zwingli's Poems during the Pestilence, with a Free Condensed Translation.

I. Im Anfang der Krankheit.

Hilf, Herr Gott, hilf

In dieser Noth;

Ich mein', der Tod

Syg⁵⁷ an der Thür.

Stand, Christe, für;

Denn du ihn überwunden hast!

Zu dir ich gilf:⁵⁸

Ist es din Will,

Zuch us den Pfyl,⁵⁹

Din Haf⁶⁰ bin ich,

Mach ganz ald⁶¹ brich.

Dann nimmst du hin

Den Geiste min

Der mich verwundt,

Nit lass ein Stund

Mich haben weder Rüw⁶² noch Rast!

Willt du dann glych⁶³

Todt haben mich

Inmitts der Tagen min,

So soll es willig syn.

Thu, wie Du willt,

Mich nüt befilt.⁶⁴

Von dieser Erd,

Thust du's, dass er nit böser werd,

Ald andern nit

Befleck ihr Leben fromm und Sitt.

II. Mitten in der Krankheit.

Tröst, Herr Gott, tröst!

Die Krankheit wachst,⁶⁵

Weh und Angst fasst

Min Seel und Lyb.⁶⁶

Darum dich schybr⁶⁷

Gen mir, einiger Trost, mit Gnad!

Die gwüss erlöst

Bin jeden, der Sin herzlich B'ger

Und Hoffnung setzt

In dich, verschätzt.

Darzu diss Zyt all Nutz und Schad.

Nun ist es um;

Min Zung ist stumm,

Mag sprechen nit ein Wort;

Min Sinn' sind all verdorrt,

Darum ist Zyt,⁶⁸ Dass Du min Stryt⁶⁹

Führist fürhin;

So ich nit bin

So stark, dass ich

Mög tapferlich

Thun Widerstand

Des Tüfels Facht⁷⁰ und frefner Hand.

Doch wird min Gmüth

Stät bliben dir, wie er auch wüth.

III. Zur Genesung.

G'sund, Herr Gott, g'sund!

Ich mein', ich kehr

Schon wiedrum her.

Ja, wenn dich dunkt,

Der Sünden Funk'

Werd nit mehr bherrschen mich uf Erd,

So muss min Mund

Din Lob und Lehr

Ussprechen mehr

Denn vormals je,

Wie es auch geh'

Einfältiglich ohn' alle G'fährd.

Wiewohl ich muss

Des Todes buss

Erliden zwar einmal

Villicht mit gröss'rer Qual,

Denn jezund wär'

Geschehen, Herr!

So ich sunst bin

Nach⁷¹ gfahren hin,

So will ich doch

Den Trutz und Poch⁷²

In dieser Welt

Tragen fröhlich um Widergelt,⁷³

Mit Hülfe din,

Ohn' den nüt⁷⁴ mag vollkommen syn.

I. In the Beginning of his Sickness.

Help me, O Lord,

My strength and rock;

Lo, at the door

I hear death's knock.

Uplift thine arm,

Once pierced for me,

That conquered death,

And set me free.

Yet, if thy voice,

In life's mid-day

Recalls my soul,

Then I obey.

In faith and hope,

Earth I resign,

Secure of heaven,

For I am Thine.

II. In the Midst of his Sickness.

My pains increase;

Haste to console;

For fear and woe

Seize body and soul.

Lo! Satan strains

To snatch his prey;

I feel his grasp;

Must I give way?

Death is at hand,

My senses fail,

My tongue is dumb;

Now, Christ, prevail.

He harms me not,

I fear no loss,

For here lie

Beneath Thy cross.

III. On Recovering from his Sickness.

My God! my Lord!

Healed by Thy hand,

Upon the earth

Once more I stand.

Though now delayed,

My hour will come,

Involved, perchance,

In deeper gloom.

Let sin no more

Rule over me;

My mouth shall sing

Alone of Thee.

But, let it come;

With joy I'll rise,

And bear my yoke

Straight to the skies.