Gavin Ortlund, Hus’s Burning, & Double Standards

+ several highly uncomfortable points of fact for those who deny that early Protestantism massively executed those it deemed to be heretics: mostly fellow Protestants

In Gavin’s 2024 book, What it Means to be Protestant (I’m currently about a third of the way through it), he expressed dismay that Catholics were doing much better at online apologetics, and that many Protestants were becoming Catholics, leading him to step up his own efforts at apologetics and educating Protestants about their own heritage. I wrote about that yesterday in a Facebook post.

Perhaps largely because of this concern, I think he did something unsavory that was beneath his usually irenic and ecumenical spirit, in writing about the famous burning of Jan Hus in 1415 by the Catholic Church. He clearly wanted to “do it up” all he could for polemical, dramatic, and emotional effect. Certainly he is sharp enough to know how his mostly Protestant readers would react: the anti-Catholics reading would have a field day and the ecumenical Protestants would say, “see how utterly horrible those Catholics are, way way worse than Protestants?!” And so this fits in with the goal of keeping them Protestant.

He devoted 3 1/2 pages (pp. 47-50) to a description of Hus’s death in extreme and excruciating detail, as part of a 7 1/2 page treatment of his persecution. Yet he had the unmitigated gall or chutzpah to proclaim in the middle of it, “we should not exploit the grisly nature of Hus’s death for rhetorical purposes” (pp. 50-51). Now, to his credit, he did make a disclaimer about how “Protestants persecuted others as well” and concluded that “All of this is wrong” (p. 46). He also acknowledges on page 56, “Great sins are committed by true Christians and true churches.” But then he made the following dubious claim:

At the same time, it is also wrong to attempt to equalize the blame on both sides when they are not to scale. There is simply nothing on the Protestant side that compares to the quantity and organization of late medieval Catholic violence. Saying, “Yes, Roman Catholic persecution of dissident groups was bad, but Protestants persecuted others, too!” is like saying, “Yes, Texas may be large, but so is Rhode Island!” (pp. 46-47)

This is objectionable on so many levels. Here are four points I would make in response, that immediately come to mind:

1) Most of the “quantity” — and also “organization” — of Catholic persecution can be explained simply by the length of time that it went on, in the Middle Ages, when it was universally accepted that persecution of heresy was permissible, on the grounds that heresy was a “murder of the soul” every bit as punishable as the murder of the body (which has a certain inner consistency to it), and during which there were no Protestants at all. The First Crusade (if it is considered part of this, which is debatable) began in 1096, and the Inquisition might be said to have started in 1184 in France, with the persecution of the Cathars and Waldensians. Once Protestantism began, it institutionalized capital punishment for heresy, and persecuted just as much — and for the same reasons — as Catholicism. Very few of them did not; and they persecuted fellow Protestants as much as Catholics; often, even more so. Moreover, when the bulk of the religious persecution died down (arguably after the Peace of Westphalia in 1648), it was across the board. This means that Protestants persecuted for only about 130 years, before the growing consensus against such practices took hold.

2) Gavin completely ignored the English so-called “Reformation” (at least in what I have read so far, and what remains in the book seems to be devoted to theology, not history). This is absurd, because it’s likely that the entire enterprise of Protestantism wouldn’t have survived without England coming on board. I myself have documented by name 1375 Catholic martyrs of  Butcher Henry VIII and “Bloody Queen Bess” between 1534 and all the way up to 1729. Below, I will get into the type of torture and execution involved in many of these.

3) It remains true to this day that Protestant persecution is rarely talked about — if known at all –by Protestants, and even when it is honestly acknowledged, it’s underplayed, minimized, and not presented in any  remote semblance of its massive and widespread nature (precisely as Gavin did in his book, following the playbook to a tee). It’s a huge double standard, so that millions of Protestants believe that their religious heroes never participated in these activities, over against the terrible, wicked Catholics, who did, and which is always talked about, or that it’s an entirely “lopsided” comparison (Gavin’s approach). Then there are pathetic lying books such as Foxe’s Book of Martyrs that play up and distort what Catholics did. See also my article, Were “50-68 Million” People Killed in the Inquisition? [8-21-15].

4)  There is also a large element of glaring hypocrisy in the widespread early Protestant persecution (as some secular historians like Will Durant have noted), insofar as Protestants perceived themselves — and continue to do so today — as the champions of religious freedom, primacy of conscience, and  the bold innovators of unfettered private judgment, over against Big Bad Oppressive Murderous Rome. For them to nevertheless engage in persecution, given these supposed emphases and commitments — even against each other –, was rank hypocrisy. The subsequent massive lies, ultra-exaggerations, myths, and misrepresentations of anti-Catholic propaganda these past 500 years sought to maintain this false legend of supposedly “freedom-loving” and tolerant early Reformers” by ignoring that entire aspect of Protestant history.

I would love to not have to write about these matters at all. My view is that:

1) we need to understand why many Christians of virtually all stripes used to widely believe in execution for heresy,

and

2) since all kinds of Christians committed these acts, it’s a “wash” and ought to be put out to pasture as a sort of polemical attempt to “score points” against the other side and to pretend that our own was better.

I’ve also — let it be made clear — always opposed execution for heresy, both as a Protestant and as a Catholic (including the execution of Jan Hus). My view is that of the early Church: people who are wrong about theology ought to be loved and persuaded to adopt true doctrines, and I’ve devoted my life to doing just that. I believe that most theological error ultimately stems from ignorance and lack of education, not deliberate rebellion. I’m also against capital punishment altogether. I used to accept it only in cases of terrorism or serial murderers, etc., but a few years back changed my mind about that, too. I do accept just war and the use of lethal force by police, where warranted.

That said, because of the double standard continues (see #3 not far above), I continue to write (albeit reluctantly) about the topic, so as to “balance the score” and present another side to the usual one-sided propaganda. See my web page, Protestantism: Historic Persecution & Intolerance. Since Gavin —  quite disappointingly — wants to join in this pitiful game and tactic, I’ll play along, too, since he insists on doing this. I already replied to Gavin at length regarding Hus’s execution, a year and ten months ago: Reply To Gavin Ortlund: Catholic Inquisitions; Hus [2-7-24], and also in a similar paper, Reply To Gavin Ortlund: Albigensian Crusade [2-6-24].

I’d like to compare burning as a method of torture and execution, to what routinely happened in England, as a result of Butcher Henry VIII proclaiming himself the head of the “church” there. This resulted in Catholic priests performing Masses (or folks who harbored or aided them) being branded as treasonous and thus subject to the punishment for that: hanging drawing, and quartering. How many reading know much about that method of execution, I wonder? Catholics can play the game of presenting gruesome accounts, too. According to a web page called “Capital Punishment UK: History of the Death Penalty in Britain, this is what was involved in this horrific and terrifying punishment (be forewarned; more sensitive, soft-hearted readers may want to skip the next three paragraphs)

That you be drawn on a hurdle to the place of execution where you shall be hanged by the neck and being alive cut down, your privy members shall be cut off and your bowels taken out and burned before you, your head severed from your body and your body divided into four quarters to be disposed of at the King’s pleasure.

The prisoner was often dragged by a horse, sometimes naked, leading to all sorts of abrasions and other injuries before he even got to the torture and execution place; including being pelted by the crowd with many objects, spit on, and who knows what else. The hanging proceeded till just before death, then the prisoner was pulled down or allowed to fall a distance, leading to more injuries and discomfort. Then the real fun began: disemboweling and emasculation (“privy members”): all with hundreds of men, women, and children watching.

The executioners were skilled in prolonging the ordeal and keeping the victim alive for as long as possible to maximize suffering. Some of these executions took over an hour to complete. The disemboweling itself was usually not fatal. Organs were removed and burned, and not infrequently, another nice civilized touch was added: the victim’s heart was cut out while he was still alive. Failing that, he would be subjected to quartering while still alive, too: arms and legs cut off one-by-one, sometimes with rusty blades and/or with multiple strokes. Another method was tying the martyr’s arms and legs to four horses, who then ran in four directions. By this point, beheading was surely welcome. But even then, multiple blows were common (even five or more) when the first did not sever cleanly.

All of this was for simply being a practicing Catholic priest or friend of same, in merrie olde England after 1534: in a country that had previously been maybe 85-90% Catholic. Now (getting back to Hus and others who suffered this fate), I was curious how long it takes to be burned alive, and how much suffering occurs. Certainly it’s a horrifying death, beyond words, but compared to the above, it’s actually quite preferable. One web page I found describes what happens (warning: not for the faint of heart):

The earliest stage of the process of death by burning begins as soon as flames come into contact with the victim’s body. When this happens, the fire quickly starts to burn and destroy the outermost layer of the skin known as the epidermis. Within five minutes, the thicker underlying layer of skin called the dermis will begin to shrink and split open, allowing fat to drain out of the body. At this point, the muscles will also start to contract. This part of the process is excruciatingly painful, but relatively brief. Although a person being burned to death initially feels immense pain as their body begins to burn, the pain eventually subsides once the skin and the nerve endings below are destroyed. Once that occurs, pain is no longer felt.

While a person being burned to death may survive the initial burning of their flesh, many people are already dead at this point. Victims who die before their flesh has been fully consumed often expire because of smoke inhalation, which leads to respiratory system failure and causes the person to suffocate. Death from suffocation may also occur if the lungs fill with fluid during the burning process. Thermal decomposition of vital organs and other parts of the body can lead to death as well. This happens when the heat of the fire causes the organs to shrink and ultimately shut down. Another possible cause of death during the burning process is loss of blood and other fluids. When the body suffers severe burns, an inflammatory response is triggered that leads capillaries to leak. Death will result if too much blood is lost in this manner. Death may also result if the victim’s body temperature rises above 105 degrees Fahrenheit, which causes the body’s enzymes to stop functioning properly and may also lead to organ failure and shock.

Note how in “many” cases, the victim dies within five minutes, from several possible causes, and if they go longer than that, they no longer feel pain. Compare this to the deliberately protracted torture of hanging, drawing, and quartering . . . so if we want to make comparisons, how about this one? Protestants want to bring up Hus? Then I’ll note the above, that happened to many Catholic saints.

Thankfully, Catholic women weren’t subjected to this. But St. Margaret Clitherow, during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I in 1586, was — for the “crime” of harboring Catholic priests and having Masses in her home — laid on a sharp rock, and a door was put on top of her and loaded with 700-800 pounds of rocks and stones, so that the sharp rock would break her back. It took about fifteen minutes for her to die. She was pregnant at the time.

Or we could recall the grisly death of Blessed Margaret Pole, age 67 and frail and ill at the time of her execution in 1541. She was accused in the usual kangaroo courts of those tragic times in England of “having “committed and perpetrated diverse and sundry other detestable and abominable treasons” and was sentenced to death, but was held in the Tower of London for two and a half years, and “tormented by the severity of the weather and insufficient clothing.”

Eustace Chapuys, ambassador to the Holy Roman Emperor, was an eyewitness of her abominable execution. The chief executioner had been sent north to deal with rebels, so the execution was performed by “a wretched and blundering youth who hacked her head and shoulders to pieces in the most pitiful manner”. It took eleven strokes of an axe for the executioner to remove her head. The first blow missed its mark, gashing her shoulder.

Gavin in his book thought it was terrible that Hus had to wait one month to learn when he was to be executed. He wrote:

The worst part of the whole ordeal relates to the simple fact that Hus was not informed when his execution would be. From the conclusion of his trial on June 8 till his execution on July 6, he waited. . . . It’s one thing to steel yourself to prepare for a dreaded day, but imagine waking up every morning knowing that at any moment you might face the flames!(pp. 52-53)

There are a host of examples, showing how Protestants — and the leaders of the Revolt — were just as “bloodthirsty” (if we want to call it that), as Catholics. It makes for scandalous, shocking, and  outrageous reading, but again, if Gavin wants to present an emotional and one-sided account of such things, two can play at that game. I provide both sides, so that readers can learn that the whole thing amounts to a “wash” and is useless to talk about and make a bone of contention or accusation, as it were. Wouldn’t it be nice if we just stuck to theology and history of doctrine?

Martin Luther and his successor Philip Melanchthon favored capital punishment for Anabaptists. Gavin appears to think that this was only in cases of extreme “sedition and blasphemy” (p. 46). But this is untrue. Luther’s most famous Protestant biographer, Roland Bainton, in his famous book, Here I Stand (that I read in 1984 as a zealous Protestant), wrote:

In a memorandum of 1536, again composed by Melanchthon and signed by Luther, the distinction between the peaceful and the revolutionary Anabaptists was obliterated. Philip of Hesse had asked several cities and universities for advice as to what he should do with some thirty Anabaptists whom he was holding under arrest. He had steadfastly refused to inflict the death penalty and had resorted to no more than banishment. But this was ineffective because the Anabaptists argued that the earth is the Lord’s and refused to stay away. Of all the replies which Philip received those from the Lutherans were the most severe. Melanchthon this time argued that even the passive action of the Anabaptists in rejecting government, oaths, private property, and marriages outside of the faith was itself disruptive of the civil order and therefore seditious. The Anabaptist protest against the punishment of blasphemy was itself blasphemy. The discontinuance of infant baptism would produce a heathen society and separation from the Church, and the formation of sects was an offense against God.

Luther may not have been too happy about signing these memoranda. At any rate he appended postscripts to each. To the first [in 1531] he said, “I assent. Although it seems cruel to punish them with the sword, it is crueler that they condemn the ministry of the Word and have no well-grounded doctrine and suppress the true and in this way seek to subvert the civil order.” Luther’s addition to the second document was a plea that severity be tempered with mercy. In 1540 he is reported in his Table Talk to have returned to the position of Philip of Hesse that only seditious Anabaptists should be executed; the others should be merely banished. (pp. 376-377; my bolded italics).

This 1536 memorandum included the following language:

The Anabaptists hold tenets relating to infant baptism, original sin, and inspiration which have no connection with the Word of God, and are indeed opposed to it. . . . Concerning such tenets, this is our answer : As the secular authorities are bound to control and punish open blasphemy, so they are also bound to restrain and punish avowedly false doctrine, irregular Church services and heresies in their own dominions; . . .

Also when it is a case of only upholding some spiritual tenet, such as infant baptism, original sin, and unnecessary separation, then, because these articles are also important. . .  we conclude that in these cases also the stubborn sectaries must be put to death. (cited in Johannes Janssen, History of the German People from the Close of the Middle Ages, 16 volumes, translated by A.M. Christie, St. Louis: B. Herder, 1910 [orig. 1891]; Vol. X, 222-223; my bolded italics)

Belief in adult, believer’s baptism was sufficient as a cause for execution. Thus, Gavin himself (a Baptist) could have conceivably been executed in Luther’s territories, with his express permission and consent (also in Calvin’s), whereas I, as a Catholic, would only be banished at worst. But I could have been executed when I was between the ages of 24 to 32, because I believed in adult believers’; baptism then, and even got “baptized” in a warm bath.

Luther went far beyond this, too, calling for, in 1522 (when he was supposedly completely “tolerant”), the execution of adulterers and even frigid wives:

The temporal sword and government should therefore still put adulterers to death. . . .

Notice that St. Paul forbids either party to deprive the other, for by the marriage vow each submits his body to the other in conjugal duty. When one resists the other and refuses the conjugal duty she is robbing the other of the body she had bestowed upon him. This is really contrary to marriage, and dissolves the marriage. For this reason the civil government must compel the wife, or put her to death. (The Estate of Marriage, 1522, translated by Walther I. Brandt, from Luther’s Works, Vol. 45, pp. 32, 34)

Smith and Gallinger commented in a footnote to this on page 164:

Such sayings as these fanned the flames of the horrible persecution of witches by which hundreds of thousands of harmless persons lost their lives in the sixteenth century. Four witches were executed at Wittenberg in 1540.

In another Table Talk excerpt from the period 1538-1540, drawn from the Weimar edition, deemed to be quite trustworthy by the editors of Luther’s Works (Vol. 54, Introduction), Luther advocated the torturing (and execution?) of witches:

If I were a judge, I would have such a poisonous, syphilitic whore tortured by being broken on the wheel and having her veins lacerated, for it is not to be denied what damage such a filthy whore does to young blood, so that it is unspeakably damaged before it is even fully grown and destroyed in the blood. (Table-Talk, WA, TR, IV, no. 4857, pp. 552-554; cited in Susan C. Karant-Nunn & Merry E. Wiesner-Hanks, ibid.,  pp. 157-158)

The standard 55-volume Luther’s Works chose to omit this entry, even though it is from impeccable sources, according to its own discussion of Table Talk in the Introduction to Volume 54. One must really “dig” to find Luther statements like these. Protestants don’t make it easy. They don’t want unpleasant facts like these to be known, because they don’t foster the carefully preserved myth.

Another myth is that John Calvin, sadly (as most Protestants freely admit) assented to the death of the heretic Michael Servetus, but that this was an exception to his usual rule (hence, Gavin briefly alludes to “Calvin’s involvement in the death of Michael Servetus” on page 46, and says nothing else about Calvin’s advocacy of the execution of heretics). It’s chilling (and sadly revealing) to read Calvin’s mocking account of how Servetus reacted to the announcement of his impending execution:

Every heretic was to be put to death, and cities predominantly heretical were to be smitten with the sword and utterly destroyed: “To the carnal man this may appear a . . . severe judgment . . . Yet we find no exception, but all are appointed to the cruel death. But in such cases God wills that all . . . desist from reasoning when commandment is given to execute his judgments.”

Adopting most of Wycliffe’s teachings, Hus challenged Catholic doctrine on papal authority, advocated sola scriptura, and denied Sacred Tradition as an element of the Deposit of Faith. He also condemned the veneration of the saints and the granting of indulgences. Like Wycliffe, he viewed the hierarchy of the Church as ministers of Satan and denied the universal jurisdiction and primacy of the pope. Hus believed that the Church was built on the personal faith of St. Peter and that Jesus did not institute the Petrine Office. (Steve Weidenkopf, “The Protestants Who Came Before the Protestants,” Catholic Answers, 8-26-22)

Unlike many other reformers, Hus retained much of Catholic theology. He did not teach the doctrine of justification by faith alone, a fact Luther noted when he observed that, unlike himself, Hus had attacked only the life, not the doctrine, of late medieval Catholicism. . . .

*

Luther claimed continuity with Hus in many respects, although there was a theological chasm between the two on the doctrine of justification. (“The Reformation Connection”)

Jan Hus held a nuanced view on transubstantiation, accepting the Real Presence (Christ’s body and blood are truly there) but rejecting the strict philosophical definition of transubstantiation as taught by the Church, especially its denial that the bread and wine remained as accidents (properties). He believed the bread and wine became Christ’s Body and Blood truly and substantially, yet argued that the bread and wine substances (underlying reality) still existed . . . 

Jan Hus accepted the concept of purgatory as a purification state for the saved but strongly opposed its corruption, especially the sale of indulgences that claimed to shorten time there. He believed living people could help souls in purgatory through prayers and good works, but he rejected the idea that indulgences or money could buy salvation or relief from purgatorial suffering.