Many Protestant Christians celebrated Oct. 31 as Reformation Day, the day that commemorates a little known German monk, Martin Luther, who may or may not have posted his infamous Ninety-Five Theses on a church door in Wittenberg on Oct. 31, 1517.
This act challenged the Roman Catholic authority, particularly the authority of the pope, and is recognized by historians as the starting point of the Protestant Reformation.
Many Christians in the West, particularly in the United States, identify with some branch of the Protestant Church – now considered, along with Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy, as a branch of the larger Christian religion.
I have always been a Protestant, having grown up in a Baptist tradition. The tradition in which I was raised leaned more toward the fundamentalist side of being Baptist, but I still associate with the Baptist tradition (more with what I consider to be the more historically recognizable Baptist faith that is more moderate and open minded).
Yet, I also find myself in community with the Reformed tradition, particularly as it is expressed in the Presbyterian Church.
While I am a minister ordained in the Baptist tradition, I am very often called upon by Presbyterian churches to be a guest preacher.
Moreover, having lived in Edinburgh, Scotland, and having studied at New College, the divinity school that is part of the University of Edinburgh, I am very in tune with the Presbyterian faith, whose founder is John Knox, the Scottish minister of the 16th century.
These experiences have fostered in me a deeper understanding of the Reformed traditions and have enriched my Christian faith and discipleship.
But, as Protestants, we should remember that although these historical figures’ actions provide us with the faith we now embrace, they were indeed flawed human beings who may not be as heroic as we imagine them to be.
For example, although historians credit Luther with starting the Protestant Reformation, and we consider his brave stance against the overreaching authority of the papacy as a hallmark of deep conviction and courage, we should not neglect the historical reality that Luther was an anti-Semite.
It is true that Luther perhaps sided with Europe’s Jews against the Roman Catholic Church, but once they did not embrace his Christianity, he spewed all kinds of derogatory and hate-filled speech about them, referring to them as “blind” and “stupid fools,” and he equated them with the devil.
Luther also sided with the ruling authorities in their attempts to squash the peasant rebellions of the 16th century – a position that may have been influenced by Luther’s own views about the freedom of a Christian.
In his “Against the Robbing and Murdering Hordes of Peasants,” Luther accuses the peasants of not taking their God-ordained place within the structure of God’s planned society in which the kings ruled by divine right.
Luther supported the use of brute force against these peasants, arguing that this was the only method by which they would be stopped.
John Calvin, the great father of the Reformed Tradition, was also significantly flawed.
For one thing, his theological teachings, which continue to influence various Christian traditions, was centered on the view of God as some sort of capricious and arbitrary God, who Calvin argued “predestined” some for salvation and others for damnation.
Calvin’s view of God leaves little to no room for human freedom and for human goodness; all of eternity has been predetermined by God.
But, perhaps Calvin’s most flawed action was his support for the death of Michael Servetus, a Spanish theologian accused of anti-trinitarianism and anti-infant baptism.
Servetus had escaped to Geneva where Calvin was, and while attending a sermon being delivered by Calvin, Servetus was recognized and arrested.
Calvin gave his support for Servetus to be burned at the stake as a heretic. Calvin referred to his teachings as “execrable blasphemies,” and he stated, “Whoever shall maintain that wrong is done to heretics and blasphemers in punishing them makes himself an accomplice in their crime and guilty as they are.”
John Knox, the great Scottish Reformer – whose house I visited on a couple of occasions, whose statue stands in the courtyard of New College, and in whose church I often sat in still reflection – was also no saint.
In “The First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of Women,” a misogynistic treatise against Mary, Queen of Scots, Knox refers to women as blind, weak, mad and foolish.
He asks, “How can woman be the image of God, seeing (says he) she is subject to man, and has none authority, neither to teach, neither to be witness, neither to judge, much less to rule or bear empire?”
So, on the one hand, we can perhaps applaud the boldness and courage of the Reformers like Luther, Calvin and Knox, whose actions changed forever Western civilization and Christendom.
On the other hand, we must remember that they are severely flawed heroes.
Perhaps having this perspective will help us see our own flaws as we make Christian history for tomorrow’s believers.
And maybe it should also cause us to consider with all seriousness how flawed the Christian faith really is.