August 17, 2012

Philippe and Richard de Gastines

Yesterday, a very good friend of mine dutifully took my advice to “adopt a martyr.” The name that “spoke” to her was that of Philippe de Gastines of Paris, a man I had heard of only briefly and knew very little about. Thus I launched an “inquiry” into his life, and this is what I found. De Gastines was a typical Protestant of the 16^th century: passionate about his faith, practicing his doctrines “under the radar,” and constantly subject to danger from violently-Catholic Parisians. Philippe and his son Richard were willing to risk imprisonment --- or worse --- to hold religious services in their home. They managed to survive in Paris until 1569.

Then their luck ran out.

Who knows how the truth became known? A rumor here, an observance there, nosy neighbors seeking gossip. Philippe and Richard were cornered and jailed. A relative and neighbor, Nicolas Croquet (in a tragic case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time) was seized as well. It was not enough for superstitious Parisians to consign the de Gastines to jail and eventually to death. They obliterated the house in which these “heretical” practices had taken place, unsatisfied until the deed was done.

Sources vary on how the men fared in prison. Some say that Richard de Gastines preached Protestant doctrines and extorted fellow prisoners to state their sins only to God, but Richard himself said in court that he had not done such things. The Protestants said he had; the Catholics had dueling views even among themselves. In the end, the fact and fiction did not matter. Father and son both died for the “crime” of Protestantism.

And what became of the extended Gastines family? Richard had been married with a family, and his wife was killed during the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre of 1572. Her children were forced to watch. I am uncertain of what happened to them. Another family member, Jacques, was related to the Le Merciers by marriage. The Le Merciers, too, were slaughtered during the St. Bartholomew’s. According to the book “The French Wars of Religion” by Mack P. Holt, a Le Mercier daughter who witnessed her parents’ deaths was told in no uncertain terms that, “if ever she became a Huguenot, the same would happen to her.”

The “Gastines cross” marked the spot where the Gastines house had once stood. Catholics revered it almost like a shrine; Huguenots hated it. It took until December 1571 to tear it down. Even then, superstitious Parisians refused to let it go. They thronged the workers and tried to force them away from the cross. To them it was a symbol of victory over “evil.” Eventually the cross was moved to a nearby cemetery. It is no longer in existence.

But the memories remain.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

August 16, 2012

 "Adopting" Martyrs and Telling Their Stories

Yesterday I mentioned the concept of “adopting” a martyr. While you could choose either a famous person or people or someone in obscurity, I personally chose men who might not otherwise be known, victims who are truly in danger of being forgotten. The two Reformation-era tragedies that have always touched my spirit the most are the “Matanzas massacre” of Huguenots in 1565, and the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre of 1572 (each have been mentioned in previous posts; if interested, check the “search” box to see which posts). I chose one person from each of these events to remember and bring to light.

First is Monsieur Sainte Marie, whom I spoke of in other posts. His first name has already been lost to history. He was a captain, and died October 12, 1565, for refusing to recant his Protestant beliefs. This event took place at Matanzas Inlet near St. Augustine, Florida after a whirlwind of bad luck for the French. According to the book “Pioneers of France in the New World” by Francis Parkman, he was one of several officers who consulted with René de Laudonnière and Jean Ribault over what should be done to defend the French fort of La Caroline.

Second is François de Caumont, born about 1524. He was a man of high standing before the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre, being the Lord of Castelnau. Yet when the massacre erupted, the respect and honor due to him was forgotten, and he was slaughtered for his Huguenot faith. François was the son of Charles de Caumont and Jeanne de Pérusse. On May 15, 1554, he married Philippa de Beaupoil de la Force. They had a son named Armand, who, about seventeen years old, was also killed. Another son, Jacques, born in 1558, survived to age 82.

I find it interesting that both Monsieur Sainte Marie and François de Caumont were captains. While de Caumont was a military captain, I am unsure if Sainte Marie was a military or a ship captain. On a side note, my very good friend did her part to “adopt a martyr” as well. She chose Philippe de Gastines, who died in 1569. His story will come tomorrow.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

August 15, 2012

Carrying the Torch

With next Friday being the 440^th anniversary of the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre, I took a closer look at one of the biggest missions I have for this blog: To bring little-known martyrs to light, to lift up the names of those who gave their lives for Christ by clinging to the tenets of the Protestant Reformation. Often I do not know exactly where to look, but today I found a list I had kept of known victims of the St. Bartholomew’s. My eyes fell on Felix La Rue or Le Roux. 

He was somewhere around fifty years of age and was the son of Henry, who was thought to be a clandestine child of King Francis I. Felix supposedly had a young son who escaped. I do not know what he looked like or what he did in life; yet when my eyes fell on the name, when I realized that someone was seeing his name four hundred years after he was silenced and forgotten, I felt a great sense of elation. Then I had an interesting idea: “Adopt a martyr.”

Yes, it sounds odd. It is not meant to be an official title. But remember how people chose a POW / MIA soldier to “adopt,” to receive a picture and / or information about that person? Or when you sponser a child and are sent periodic letters, photos, and other mementoes? Or when a child “adopts” a pen-pal from another country? Adopt a few martyrs. Pick obscure people (or famous, it does not matter) from a personally-meaningful event in history such as the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre, the French Wars of Religion, persecution of the Anabaptists in Switzerland or Germany, persecution of the Anglican martyrs, etc. These people could also be ancestors. Learn everything you can and write a little something about them. Keep their memories alive. Make it so they did not die to be forgotten, but rather that their lives, their dreams, and their hopes might be remembered.

When we struggle with witnessing or with keeping the faith, we should remember our adopted martyrs. And for those who choose ancestors, remember that their blood runs in your veins. If they could have the strength, courage, and steadfastness to put Christ above all else, we can as well.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

August 14, 2012

The Freedoms of Modern Day

Sometimes, while studying the Reformation era, I am so very glad we live in tolerant times. I made a list of the freedoms we enjoy that people of the 16^th century did not:

Scenario 21^st century: Upon asked your religion, you answer “Protestant,” and get an “okay,” usually followed by an “I am . . .” and (hopefully!) constructive dialogue.

Scenario 16^th century: Upon asked your religion, you answer “Protestant,” and, depending on the country, you are shunned, imprisoned by the authorities, or attacked outright by disgruntled civilians.

Scenario 21^st century: Upon speaking the Lord’s Prayer with those of various faiths, you use the Protestant version and get a noise of interest, an acknowledgment, or indifferent silence.

Scenario 16th century: Upon speaking the Lord’s Prayer with those of various faiths, your end doxology is immediately noticed and you are either condemned or questioned until the “truth” is sufficiently known and action is taken.

Scenario 21^st century: Your faith becomes known and you suffer a loud knock on the door in the middle of the day. It is probably (a) someone attempting to drop off unwanted literature, (b) a friend or relative, or (c) the UPS or FedEx delivery person.

Scenario 16^th century: Your faith becomes known and you suffer a loud knock on the door. It is probably (a) guards and perhaps local authorities, who have prepared a jail cell and perhaps a trial (legal or not), (b) church officials who beg you to recant, or (c) friends or relatives warning you they are in danger and so are you.

Scenario 21^st century: You are told that you *must* participate in the tenets of another denomination (and you feel it is wrong to do so). You refuse and are perhaps shunned but basically left alone.

Scenario 16^th century: You are told that you *must* participate in the tenets of another denomination. Upon refusing, you are either forced to do so or are imprisoned.

I cannot fathom how much we take for granted, compared to what our spiritual predecessors suffered. Often when there is a knock on the door I think of how horrifying that unexpected pounding must have been to our ancestors living in fear. Long live the Reformation and freedom!

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

August 13, 2012

Canada’s French Catholics and the Huguenot Connection

Did you know there were once many Huguenot settlers in 17^th century Québec? For a time there was harmony (so to speak . . .) between Protestant and Catholic Frenchmen in the tenacious little village that would one day become a sprawling city. Samuel de Champlain --- many will remember him from the history textbooks --- at first gave equality to French Protestants, allowing them to live in Québec as long as they kept to themselves and did not attempt to evangelize the neighboring Native Americans. There were even Huguenot-based firms such as the De Caen Company. Many French Protestants must have believed that this was an extended opportunity to pick up in the New World where Florida’s failed Fort Caroline had left off. This all worked well . . . but not for long.

In the late 1620s, the Jesuits arrived. Known at the time for their zealous dislike of anything and everything Protestant, they exerted their authority to get the Huguenots banned from major activities, from fur-trading, from bartering . . . from fishing. The Huguenots’ financial lifelines had been snapped. With the Jesuits in charge, “Protestant” was an ugly word. This was one of many precursors to the 1685 Edict of Fontainebleau in France which sapped Huguenot fortunes in much the same way.

By the 1740s, however, there was a resurgence of Huguenots in Québec and beyond. French Protestants were fine merchants and businessmen and refused to leave the area. We know this because of nasty letters the officials sent back and forth to complain about the “heretic” problem :-) Although the Catholics of “New France” certainly saw no merit in the day England temporarily took control of Canada in 1764, French Protestants were enthused. There was now freedom of religion. Opportunities skyrocketed. The Huguenots were quickly learning that if they were tenacious enough, if they hung on long enough and refused to be silenced, they would usually --- after decades, perhaps --- have the opportunity for which they had waited.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

August 12, 2012

The Reformation: Right on Time

Ah, the joys of losing one’s Internet connection :-) Without the usual resources available to me yesterday, I decided to just write from the heart, using whatever subject matter came to me. I pondered God’s hand in the spread of the Protestant Reformation. Why the 1500s? Why not the 1400s or the 1600s or any time between the beginning of Christianity and the present day? Because that was when the time was ripe. 

That was when the printing press made literature such as pamphlets and treatises abundant. That was when many nations such as Germany, unimpressed by current “salvation-buying” tactics such as indulgences and straining under the yoke of paying for St. Peter’s Basilica, said “no more.” That is when there were scholars brave enough and confident enough to stand up and say “we do not believe in the established church. We want to worship Christ as our hearts tell us to worship Him.”

Perhaps that is why I have always been particularly fascinated with the 1500s. It was a time of change and new thought. For over a thousand years there had been only the Catholic Church (except in places associated with Greek Orthodoxy). Even people who may have had issues with certain doctrines or may not have entirely believed everything they were taught were forced to continue on in the faith . . . until the Reformation. Suddenly there were other venues. If you had always secretly believed in the idea of predestination, you would join the Calvinist camp. If not, you could choose Lutheranism or Anabaptism, or Anglicanism. Suddenly men and women who had never been content in the traditional faith had a choice.

Let’s think what might have happened if the Reformation had begun in the early 1400s. Or the 1300s. Without the printing press, few people would have gotten the message. Those who did would have been quickly imprisoned and likely martyred. The medieval era was known for absolute obedience to church and local officials, and, without reasons such as abusive indulgences to fire up the common people, it is unlikely that Protestant ideas would have gotten much support.

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved

August 11, 2012

**I greatly apologize for the missed day; I had no Internet connection and was unable to get a post out. That, however, did not hinder my ability to write and ponder :-)**


Lately I have been thinking about the Puritans. What is the truth about the Puritans of old? Should we lament their strictness or bless their efforts? Should we look askance at their uncompromising punishments or praise their faithfulness? On the one hand, we wonder if they were really *that* strict and if they were the somber black-clothed elders they were accused of being. On the other hand, however, it is obvious from their writings that they truly loved God and had every intention of furthering His work. I think one must take propaganda concerning the Puritans with a grain of salt. Some is likely true. Some is likely false. Whatever the “real deal,” the Puritans were knowledgeable in Scripture and wrote some beautiful poetry based on God’s truths. Today I am picking another random poem from the book “The Valley of Vision” by Arthur Bennett.

“Comforts”

Giver of all good,

Streams upon streams of love overflow my path.

Thou hast made me out of nothing,

       hast recalled me from a far country,

       hast translated me from ignorance to knowledge,

                from darkness to light,

                from death to life,

                from misery to peace,

                from folly to wisdom,

                from error to truth,

                from sin to victory.

Thanks be to thee for my high and holy calling.

I bless thee for ministering angels,

          for the comfort of thy Word,

          for the ordinances of thy church,

          for the teaching of thy Spirit,

          for thy holy sacraments,

          for the communion of saints,

          for Christian fellowship,

          for the recorded annals of holy lives,

          for examples sweet to allure,

          for beacons sad to deter.

Thy will is in all thy provisions

       to enable me to grow in grace,

          and to be meet for thy eternal presence.

My heaven-born faith gives promise of eternal sight,

      my new birth a pledge of never-ending life.

I draw near to thee, knowing thou wilt draw near to me.

I ask of thee, believing thou hast already given.

I entrust myself to thee, for thou hast redeemed me.

I bless and adore thee, the eternal God,

     for the comfort of these thoughts,

       the joy of these hopes.   

(c) 2012 Joyously Saved