Last month’s article drew attention to some who sowed seeds of scriptural teaching at the beginning of the Spanish Reformation, particularly by their writings and translations. Page references in the text are to Thomas M’Crie, The Reformation in Spain, 1824.
2. The Seed Sown in Seville and Valladolid
A man who did much to advance God’s work within Spain was Rodrigo de Valer. He was a very fashionable young man, living mostly in Seville, whose time was taken up with horses, sport and entertainment. All of a sudden he disappeared from his previous haunts and shut himself up in his room. He gave himself to reading and meditating on religion. Had he shut himself up in a monastery, no Spaniard of the time would have been surprised. But to act as he did, while neglecting these places of supposed sanctity, could only be explained on the basis that he was mentally disturbed. He had learned a little Latin when he was young; now he applied himself with great diligence to the language so that he could read the Vulgate, the only version of the Bible that was permitted in Spain. In a remarkably short time he became so well acquainted with its contents that he was able to quote almost any passage from memory and to expound its meaning. His system of doctrine was, in substance, Lutheran.
When Valer was satisfied that he had learned the truths of revelation, he appeared again in public. His great hope was that he would be able to communicate these truths to others so that they would impress their minds as they had impressed his own. In particular, he sought out priests and monks, first to argue with them and persuade them; if that proved unsuccessful, he reproved them for their errors. He made the Bible his supreme standard in these discussions as he pointed out the general departure from it in both faith and practice.
Valer did have some success, but for the most part those he accosted rejected his efforts to point them to the truth. After all, he was a layman; he was not a educated man. What right had he to instruct his teachers? the clergy asked. In response, he accepted that he had been brought up in ignorance of divine things; he claimed to have acquired his knowledge, not from the polluted streams of tradition and human invention, but from the pure fountain of revealed truth, through the teaching of the Spirit. He pointed out that “unlearned and ignorant men”, the disciples, had convicted a learned Sanhedrin of blindness and called a whole world to the knowledge of salvation. He claimed to have the authority of Christ for warning them of their errors and vices.
One would not expect Valer to be allowed to continue in this way for long. He was soon hauled before the Inquisitors, with whom he disputed on such subjects as justification, the Church and its distinctive marks. Some men who had secretly accepted his teachings did their best to have him released. Their influence, together with his high rank in society and the belief that he was insane did lead to a more lenient sentence than was normal for the brutal organisation in whose clutches he found himself. His property was confiscated, but he was released. His friends persuaded him to keep out of public view for a time, and he confined himself to expounding the Epistle to the Romans to them privately. But his zeal could not be thus restrained for long. He resumed his previous activity in the hope that, though he might lose his life in so doing, others would press on after him and so the truth might gain the victory. So zealous was he that he might even interrupt priests during their sermons, to point out their errors.
Not surprisingly, he was a second time brought before the Inquisition and condemned. He was sentenced to be imprisoned for life and to wear a sanbenito, an outer shirt which everyone convicted of heresy was required to wear. When, as a prisoner, Valer was taken to church services on festival days, he was still ready to speak out after the sermon if what the preacher said was contrary to the Word of God, to warn the people against the false doctrines they had heard. This would normally have resulted in a prisoner being burnt to death, but his high rank and other factors protected him. Instead, about 1541, he was shut away from contact with the public, in a monastery, where he died aged 50. His sanbenito was hung up in the main church in Seville; on it was written: “Rodrigo Valer, a citizen of Lebrixa and Seville, an apostate and false apostle, who pretended to be sent by God” (p 151).
The most distinguished of Valer’s converts was Juan Gil, usually known as Dr Egidius. He had achieved distinction as a student at the University of Alcalá for his expertise in the theology of the Mediaeval scholastics, such as Thomas Acquinas. Scholastic theology was the only academic discipline then valued in Spain except among a few who gave themselves to studying the Scriptures in the original languages and were derisively known as Biblists. Egidius became a professor of theology and was then unanimously elected canon magistral, or preacher, in Seville Cathedral. But he was not successful in this position and was ready to resign when Valer sought him out and gave him good advice. At last Egidius took the advice and, says M’Crie, “instead of the dry, abstruse and unprofitable discussions which he had formerly pursued, he brought forward the great truths of the Bible; and the frigid manner in which he had been accustomed to acquit himself in public was succeeded by powerful appeals to the consciences and affectionate addresses to the hearts of his auditors” (p 153).
He acted more cautiously than Valer, but he caught the attention of his hearers, and conversions resulted. These converts were strengthened through Egidius’s continued preaching so that, when called to face death because of their faith, they were able to do so joyfully. Two others who profited from contact with Egidius were Dr Vargas and Constantine Ponce de la Fuente. They then co-operated in trying to spread the gospel. Vargas lectured to the more educated, his lectures including expositions of Romans and the Psalms. Constantine sometimes assisted Egidius in preaching. Their zeal aroused suspicion, but it also provoked the hardline Romanists to greater diligence in promoting their superstitions. These latter kept the allegiance of the majority of the people, but those in Seville whose allegiance was to the Bible were growing in number, and small groups of believers were being planted in surrounding districts.
Naturally the Inquisition was watching but, perhaps because of the popularity of Egidius, they hesitated to act. Meantime Vargas died and Constantine was sent to the Netherlands, then under Spanish control, with Philip, the heir to the throne. In 1550 the King nominated Egidius to one of the richest bishoprics in Spain. Now the Inquisition pounced, charging Egidius openly with heresy and sending him to one of their secret prisons. He was charged with errors in relation to justification, human merit, assurance, purgatory and confession. In his defence he produced a statement of his views on justification, the effect of which was to supply the prosecutor with further evidence against him.
The King wrote in support of Egidius, as did colleagues in Seville; there was even a falling out among the judges. But the eventual outcome of the trial, in 1552, was that he was condemned to three years’ imprisonment; he must abstain from writing or teaching for 10 years and abjure the propositions for which he was condemned. He appeared among those condemned to do penance at an auto-da-fé, literally, an act of faith. This was a ritual of public penance by condemned heretics; others who did not recant might be burnt to death. Presumably Egidius submitted to the penance; he certainly felt extremely discouraged as a result of what seems to have been the unfaithfulness of a friend during the trial.
We next hear of him in 1555 when he was released. The following year he visited Valladolid, in northern Spain, where he found a number of people who had embraced Reformation doctrine. He felt revived in his spirit through his time with them and exhorted them to constancy in the faith. Soon after returning to Seville he took ill and within a few days he died. Afterwards the inquisitors decided that he had died in the Lutheran faith; they ordered his remains to be disinterred and burnt. His property was confiscated and his memory was declared infamous.
But how had the Reformation faith taken hold in Valladolid? A merchant, Fransisco San-Roman, had spent time in the Netherlands (then including what is now Belgium). In 1540 his employers sent him from Antwerp to Bremen on business. While there, San-Roman was anxious to learn something about the religion which was so strongly condemned in his own country. He went to church and heard James Sprent, one of the first in the Netherlands to embrace Luther’s teachings. The sermon made a great impression on him and he sought out Sprent privately and profited greatly from his contacts with a number of Protestants. Naively San-Roman thought he could easily persuade others to take up the truths which were now so clear to himself; he was extremely anxious to return to Spain to spread the true religion. Sprent tried to restrain him in his enthusiasm, an enthusiasm which he had once experienced himself.
San-Roman’s letters back to his employers in Antwerp included references to his new faith. The result was that, on his return to the city, a group of friars were waiting for him. Some Lutheran literature was found on his person and he was arrested. After eight months of severe confinement, he was released; some of his friends claimed that his zeal had now cooled. A friend of his urged him to be cautious in speaking to people, but his caution was short-lived.
San-Roman went to Ratisbon, where a diet of the German Empire was sitting. He was elated to hear that the Emperor was showing considerable favour to the Protestants (this was only for political reasons). He managed to secure admission to the Emperor’s presence; there he deplored the state of religion in Spain and begged him to restrain the inquisitors and priests, who were trying to prevent the spread of the true, saving doctrine of Christ. He was encouraged at the mild response he received and sought another audience with Charles. This time, some of the courtiers reacted forcefully and would have thrown San-Roman into the Danube, but Charles insisted that he be sent home to Spain for a proper trial. In chains he was conveyed by a most circuitous route into the hands of the Inquisition in Valladolid.
Brought to trial in 1544, he freely confessed the great Reformation doctrine that salvation is not by human works, merit or strength, but only from God’s mercy, through the sacrifice of the one Mediator. And he declared that the mass, confession, purgatory, prayers to the saints and the worship of images are blasphemy. San-Roman endured a long imprisonment with patience; he resisted all the efforts of the friars to make him recant. At the place where he was to be burnt, he refused to confess to a priest, which would have resulted in the mitigation of his sentence.
After the fire had been lit, the friars understood a movement of his head to mean that he was indicating that he now wished to recant and they had him brought from the fire. San-Roman looked them calmly in the face and asked, “Do you envy my happiness?” He was at once thrown back in the flames and expired soon afterwards. The inquisitors issued a proclamation forbidding the people to pray for his soul or to express a favourable opinion of such an obstinate heretic. His brave death made a strong impression on the spectators and had the effect of strengthening some who had already embraced the Protestant faith; within a few years, they formed themselves into a church and met regularly in private for worship.