Thank you to the committee for the privilege of being here to speak to you about this Bartholomew's Day Massacre. I'm tempted to say that it's maybe an area that we don't know much about, but that would be based upon my own experience before I began to study it. Perhaps you know more than I did then, but it's certainly a very fascinating area. In Paris, on the 24th of August in 1572, there was an assault upon the church of the Lord Jesus Christ, which escalated in an onslaught of violence, whereby thousands of men and women and children were brutally slain. Commenting on the brutality of the war between the whites and the reds following the Russian Revolution, a contemporary historian said that Europe had not seen such brutality since the wars of religion, of which the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre is but one episode. In an age of almost constant warfare, August 1572 was meant to be a time of peace and celebration. Paris, with a densely-packed population of between 250,000 to 300,000, was swollen with the French nobility who'd gathered to celebrate the marriage of the king's sister Margaret with Henry, head of the House of Bourbon, second cousin of the monarch. and as the first prince of the blood, the most senior male noble of royal descent, and next in line to the throne after the House of Valois. The dumping of victims into the River Seine turned the waters red. Mutilated corpses, often stripped naked, were heaped in the streets. The violence continued for days, reached far beyond Paris, and was in many other cities as well. The number killed is not known, but even with those who have an agenda for minimizing the violence, it's acknowledged that the number of victims is in thousands. Lower estimates say 2,000 or 3,000. But across the nation, it seems that perhaps 20,000 to 30,000 were slain, perhaps more. In the opinion of the Duke of Sully, who served as the chief minister of France from 1589 to 1611, and survived the violence by carrying a Catholic devotional book under his arm, it was 70,000 who died. There's no precise figure. It was a time when the realities of war between and within nations and empires was never far away, yet the outrage and the horror of what transpired was such that the only way to describe it in the English language meant adopting the French word massacre, which comes from a slaughterhouse butchery. And that it was at St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre simply relates to the fact that the 24th of August is the day the Roman Catholic Church would have celebrated the feast of St. Bartholomew, one of the disciples. I want for us to simply ask, who was it that was massacred? And then look at why. Answering the who is the most straightforward. Those who died were Huguenots, French Protestants. Now there's uncertainty about the significance of the name, but it was almost certainly first used pejoratively. Perhaps it originates with the German for confederates. The reformed church's theology informed so significantly through the ministry of Calvin in Geneva, a city state within a Swiss confederacy. The name entered common parlance around 1561, the same year that the French government protested against the influx of Geneva-trained preachers, who they claimed were responsible for stirring up discontent among the people. But one effect of the word Huguenot, regardless of its etymology, was to identify those who, by virtue of their faith, were outsiders, not only different, but by implication, those who could not belong. Ironic, because Calvin, of course, was a Frenchman, and those preachers coming into France were almost certainly returning to their native land. There had and there continued to be a steady stream of French exiles to Geneva. Many, like Calvin himself, driven by increasing persecution. But others, once Calvin's Geneva had been established, were at least in part drawn by the opportunity to live and learn in what Knox described as the most perfect school of Christ that ever was in the earth since the days of the apostles. Well, that's who died, Huguenots, the French Protestant Christians. To answer why, it's necessary to outline the development of the Reformation within France and then to identify certain key individuals. As in other nations, the response encountered by the Reformation in France was shaped by the political structure. In Germany, for instance, the independence and the power of the electors provided Luther with a degree of shelter and protection from both Pope and Emperor. So the year prior to Luther's posting of the Ninety-Five Thesis in Wittenberg, Francis I, King of France, recently crowned, negotiated a revision of the relationship between the French crown and the papacy. Within France, a conciliatory movement, reform movement, had sought to curb the excesses of the papacy by structural change that the crown, for the previous 80 years, had held to the sanctional bourge. This maintained that the pope was subject to ecumenical councils, and that these councils were to meet every 10 years. An appointment to high office was to be by election and not by papal nomination. Rome, of course, didn't agree, but wasn't in a position to enforce its will. So France's 1516 revision resulted in the concordant of Bologna being much more to the mutual advantage of both king and pope. The monarch was made the practical head of the church while acknowledging the Pope's overall supremacy. It had the effect of secularizing the church, and it made almost the interests of church and state to be identical. It meant that thereafter, opposition to the ecclesiastical system meant opposition to the absolutism of the monarch. I mean, civil power would be harnessed to eliminate the reformed heresy. But we also have to look beyond France itself. This was a time of great upheaval throughout Europe and the major powers vying for dominance. It's interesting that Francis and then his son Henry, while persecuting the Reformed Church within their own realm of France, they supported the Protestant princes in Germany because that undermined the power of the Emperor Charles V. Suffering the humiliation of imprisonment in Spain in 1525, Francis was obliged to accept significant concessions in the subsequent treaty. and he began to purge and cleanse his kingdom, proving his orthodoxy by consenting to the suppression of the heretics. As a result of large subsidies offered to the church, he sanctioned the torture and execution of Protestant subjects. It was into this hostile environment that John Calvin was born again. And by January 1535, he was numbered with those seeking refuge outside France. Persecution continued to increase. It escalated after the affair of the placards and posters critical of Catholic doctrine were put up around Paris and other prominent cities. One poster even appeared in the king's bedchamber. In the following year, Calvin published his Institutes, initially in Latin, but then with a French translation. And he dedicated that to the king. And in that dedication, he said, your duty, most serene prince, is not to shut either your ears or mind against a cause involving such mighty interests as these. This cause is worthy of your ear, worthy of your investigation, worthy of your throne. We don't know, of course, whether Francis read this, but it's clear that he didn't accept Calvin's exhortation. He didn't examine matters in the light of scripture. His priority was political stability. And in search of this, the persecution increased during his reign, and then that of his son, and then of his grandsons. In 1547, Francis was succeeded by Henry. It was Henry II. He'd married Catherine de' Medici, a member of the powerful Florentine family, deeply embedded with the papacy. In less than 90 years, four members of that family were appointed pope. In that generation, there was no problem producing an heir. amongst Henry and Catherine's children, there'd be three kings of France, Francis, Charles, and then Henry III. But that generation were unable to produce a legitimate heir, with each of these brothers crowned in turn as the elder died. And Henry III, who was pre-deceased by a fourth brother, was the last of the Valois king. When he died, the crown passed to Henry Bourbon, the first Prince of the Blood, the one who married Margaret Valois on the eve of the St Bartholomew's Day massacre. And that's why the nobles had gathered there in Paris. It's thought that perhaps 10% to 15% of the French population, maybe 2 million individuals, were Huguenot Christians. And this include many of the nobility and a high proportion of an articulate and prosperous middle class. The demographic perhaps is explained by self-confident independent thinkers being members of professional guilds which provided a forum for and encouraged the discussion of new ideas. The peasants, they were bound to the status quo. They weren't educated and didn't have the same opportunities. the Roman Catholic governor of Narbonne, observed that many who became Huguenots were young, educated men, lawyers, bourgeois, merchants, young men with a taste for literature and freedom, artisans of a spirited caste of mind. A later commentator blamed schoolmasters for teaching pupils to think for themselves. Well, if that would happen today, the teachers would teach pupils to think for themselves. This was an undeniable correlation. There was an undeniable correlation between literacy and Protestantism. And that was facilitated by an increased availability of tracts, gospel tracts that were circulating. In response to the boom in literature, the French court issued in 1551, the edict of Chateaubriand prohibiting The introduction of any book from Geneva and other places notoriously rebellious to the Holy See. The retention of condemned books by booksellers and all clandestine printing. It instituted a half yearly visitation of every printing establishment. The examination of all packages from abroad, lest they might contain books. Men found with letters from Geneva were to be arrested and punished. All unlettered persons were forbidden to discuss matters of faith at the table, at work, in the field, or in secret." It's interesting because, of course, they claim Christian orthodoxy, but they even banned the Psalter. The violence of persecution was great and terror was utilized to intimidate those who persisted with reform worship. I'll give you one example. There was a Huguenot goldsmith who was challenged by priests for failing to doff his hat as he passed Notre Dame. He declared the church was no more than a pile of stones and he was followed by jeering children. They were crying heretic, Lutheran, And because of that, a mob gathered and attacked him. He was taken to prison for having been assaulted, obviously. And there he was beaten to death by his fellow prisoners for refusing to go to mass. His body was recovered and decently buried, and then it was dug up and cast into a pit. Yet the edict and the violence proved to be ineffectual. Biza wrote to Bollinger marveling at the number of volunteers from Strasbourg and Geneva to hazard all to make the truth known. And with the blessing of God, the number associating with the reformed church continued to increase. In 1551, reaching beyond European powers to the Ottoman Empire, Henry II, Francis' son, formed an alliance with Suleiman the Magnificent and declared war upon Emperor Charles V. Defeat in one of the subsequent battles resulted in the surrender and imprisonment of the senior and highly regarded admiral of France, Caspar de Coligny. He was held by the Spanish, then dominant in the Netherlands. In the providence of God, as a prisoner there, he received literature from his brother, reformed gospel literature, and he was converted. Calvin began to correspond with this man. And released upon conclusion of peace with Spain, the colony openly identified with the reformed church, as did at that time several other powerful nobles, with the result that there in the reformed court, there was an influential Huguenot party. With de Coligny, the most significant and senior were Louis, Duke of Conde, and nominally his elder brother, Antoine, who was the head of the House of Bourbon, the father of Charles, who was married on the eve of the massacre. Injured in a jousting tournament to celebrate the treaty with Spain, Henry II died unexpectedly. His elder son, Francis II, he was married to Mary, Queen of Scots, was only 15. The year was 1559, and he reigned for only 19 months. And the crown passed to his 10-year-old brother, Charles IX. Charles was king, but it was a regent, of course, who acted in the king's name. And by convention, the lawful regent would have been the first prince of the blood, Antoine de Bourbon. He, however, hesitated and didn't press his claim, with the result that the king's mother, Catherine de' Medici, was regent. Her authority wasn't unchallenged. The leading nobles divided into two factions, vying for influence. The Bourbons, led by Louis, the Duke of Conde, Antoine's younger brother, along with Admiral de Coligny, and then a militantly ardent Roman Catholic party led by the House of Guise. During Francis' short reign, the Duke of Guise and his brother, the Cardinal of Lorraine, had served as the monarch's chief advisors. Their uncles, of course, the then French queen, Mary Queen of Scots. So these nobles had massive influence in France and beyond because it was their sister who was a widow of James V of Scotland and was regent here in her daughter's name and encouraged the persecution of the Huguenots. But Catherine de' Medici was obliged to make concessions to the Huguenots and that outraged the House of Guise. and part concerned that Spain, with its infamous inquisition, would have the prestige and the political advantage of dealing decisively with the reformed heresy. So the Duke of Guise led a troop of horsemen against a defenseless reformed congregation in Vase in 1562. 63 were slaughtered, and civil war broke out as the Huguenots gathered themselves together to defend themselves. This began the first of what's called eight wars of religion. Though in reality, it was really one war interspersed with inconclusive treaties. It was to continue for 36 years. The initial cruelties against the Huguenots brought some sympathy by those who weren't governed by strong religious feeling. But these feelings dispersed as Huguenot armies made gains. Calvin was involved. He counseled against unrestrained iconoclasm. He said, God has never enjoined on anyone to destroy idols, save on every man on his own house or in public on those placed in authority. We must look to what is lawful for us to do and keep ourselves within bounds. That was his counsel, but his counsel wasn't readily received. There was a frustration, there was an anger, and there was an energy, there was a momentum. At the Church of the Holy Cross in Orleans, the Duke of Condie pointed a gun at a soldier who was about to destroy a statue. And he's reputed to have said, sir, let me do this, and then shoot me if that's what you want to do. Far from an isolated incident, the ongoing destruction of church property and the violent interference of Catholic worship implied that the Huguenots would be as intolerant as their oppressors. So any lingering sympathy evaporated. Renewed edicts of toleration brought intermittent respite, but no solution. An open warfare broke out three times prior to the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre. The Huguenots were always a minority, but they were strategically positioned. They'd taken possession of significant towns over a wide area. The heartland of their support was toward the south, and that allowed them to withdraw and maintain deep lines of communication. Their defeat was at no point a foregone conclusion. They'd skilled generals, they had troops who were animated with righteous indignation, at the increasing catalogue of atrocities which were perpetrated against the civilian as well as military targets. Meanwhile, international concerns demanded the Crown retain a standing army along the borders of Spanish Netherlands, Switzerland, and Italy and Spain. And although a minority, it was Huguenots who were in the ascendancy The first National Synod of the Reformed Church met in 1559, and the following year, presenting the need for toleration, De Colligny spoke of 2,150 congregations nationwide. Paris was always under the control of the Crown, but a successful blockade in 1567 brought it to such a heightened state of fear. They were convinced that if the Huguenots gained admission, they would burn the city to the ground. 1569, de Coligny was tried in his absence for treason and sedition. It seems primarily so the crown could confiscate his properties. But the concept appealed to the Parisian mob. And he was executed in effigy. always a minority in Paris. Huguenot has lived with the constant pressure, but a prospect of seizure. And one example, which was to have ongoing significance, was a merchant, Philip de Gastine, and his son, Richard, who were hanged for illegally celebrating the Lord's Supper. The family home was destroyed, and a monument asserting Catholic dominance, a large pyramid with a cross on top, was erected on the site. It's called the Cross of Gastine. However, following a pause in the wars in October 1571, and upon reversal of the judgment against the colony who'd been tried in his absence, he was invited to return by the king to the court. Strange, given all that had transpired and that would transpire, but the king, who wasn't robust physically nor emotionally, he increasingly looked to colony. Calvin, in earlier correspondence, had encouraged the admiral. He said, we thank God that you have resolved to go, that's to return to court, for we have learned by your absence from it how profitable it would have been had you always remained there. It seems even that everything must go from bad to worse if God do not speedily prevent it, which we trust he will do by means of you. Thus persuaded that he has reserved you for this purpose, we entreat you most earnestly not to let slip any opportunity for your presence at any rate imposes upon your enemies." Antoine Bourbon and his brother Louis, the Prince of Conde, were now dead. And given the youthfulness of Antoine's son Charles, or son Henry, forgive me, De Coligny was in practice the undisputed Huguenot leader and his presence, it did impose upon his enemies. He was over 50 years of age, he was in full vigour of life, he was dignified, conscientious, he was a statesman, he was a soldier, he was renowned for personal courage, political skill, he had military prowess and he pressed for the best interests of the reformed church at every turn. And in compliance with the most current edict, which brought the wars to a pause, the Peace of Saint Germain, he sought for the removal of the cross of Gastine, that pyramid with the cross on top that had been erected in Paris. But the Catholic preachers in Paris likened the removal of the cross to the betrayal of Christ. The eventual relocation under guard, compromise instructed by the king, resulted in scarcely containable violence. The pillaging of Huguenot homes, particularly that of the Gastine family, left 50 dead. Spain was France's ancient enemy. But the prospect in May 1572 of the crown heeding the colonies council and and aiding of enabling or allowing a Huguenot army to aid the Protestant rebellion led by William of Orange in the Netherlands provoked further outrage. There was no love for Spain, but Catholic Parisians hated the prospect of being allied with these detestable heretics. Each edict of toleration had been a toleration too far. In a nation weary of war, and with the cost of war, the Huguenots were visibly claiming rights and exerting influence that the population deeply resented. The prospect of de Coligny's continued influence at court was unacceptable to the Catholic party, who speculated about a Huguenot coup and the seizure of the king. So with the forthcoming marriage of Henry Bourbon, the Prince of the Blood, the King of Navarre, a minor but Protestant kingdom with a king sister, a union which the Pope had not given sanction. The zealous in both parties were uncomfortable. It was compromised. It was complicated. De Coligny himself was uncertain, but it was a sign of a measure of acceptance, permanent acceptance. of the Huguenots in society. The wedding was conducted on the 21st of August. As part of the ceremony, the bride went to celebrate mass. Her husband escorted her into the church, and then he and his nobles withdrew to have nothing to do with the mass. The following day, the 22nd, There was an assassination attempt against the colony, but it failed. He's passing a house connected to the Guise family, and he moved to adjust his footwear just as the assassin pulled the trigger, and he was injured, but not killed. And Paris is electrified. The city is full of nobles. All these Huguenots are there. The king, shocked, he rushes to Coligny's bedside. He says, you have the wound, but I have the pain, the dishonor. And by apparent earnest sincerity, he promises to deal effectively with whoever is responsible. But the question is, of course, who was responsible? The name of the assassin or the attempted assassin is known, but who was responsible? Perhaps it was even the instigation of the king's own mother, Catherine de' Medici. Unhappy with the influence of the admiral, or perhaps by the House of Guise. Motivated by sectarian hatred, the political competition, the personal enmity and revenge. Many point the finger at Catherine, but that the House of Guise was at least involved is indisputable. with Henry, the Duke of Guise present at the colony's subsequent killing. What's perhaps clearer to identify is Catherine's role, and that of her more vigorous son, the Duke of Anjou, and an easily manipulated king in the violence that followed. The botched assassination, regardless of who had arranged it, brought Paris to the point of crisis. The king was brought to see that the only solution was to preempt the violence with a strike to remove the Huguenot leadership. Nearby, de Coligny's brother-in-law, Telligny, commanded an army. Would it continue to march on Flanders, or would it turn on Paris? You see, the enemy, as they saw it, was within. and the enemy was without. And consequently, it was with the king's authority that on the night of Saturday, the 23rd of August, to prevent a Huguenot uprising, the city gates were barred, the boats in the river were made secure, the militia armed and stationed around the city to await further orders. In the early hours of the morning, Henry Duke of Guise led troops to kill the colony. His body was tossed from the window. It was mutilated in the street and dragged through the streets and then dismembered. The ringing of bells, together with the disturbance of the King's Guard, seeking out further targets, ignited an explosive chain of reaction in the darkness. The wave of violence that swamped the city filled the night with cries of aggression and alarm. Whatever role the militia were to take, it acted as a Catholic vigilante mob. They were joined by Swiss mercenaries, regular soldiers, and increasingly the citizens of Paris, many who turned fiercely against their neighbors. Indicating that there were some coordination of events, is that those who were perpetrating identified themselves by wearing a white handkerchief on their left arm and a white cross on their hats. Obstacles were drawn across the streets to prevent flight. No inhumane properties placed under siege. The violence was unrestrained. No mercy was shown, not to women nor to child. It's not simply killing, but it was a deliberate humiliating and brutalising. The violence continued for days. Victims were stripped naked, terrorised, forced to recant, to repeat Catholic prayers. Infants were baptised in the blood of parents. Unborn children torn from the womb and baptised in the river. One woman fleeing after her husband had been killed, broke both legs when she fell from the roof, dragged by her hair, her hands were severed to remove jewellery, her body impaled on a spit, cast into the river. Any Catholic sheltering a Huguenot neighbour was faced with a choice, turn him out or also become a victim. flawless terror reigned. The mob would not be restrained. There was mixed messages purporting to be in the king's name, and that added to the confusion. Entire families, young and old, were wiped out. The killing was indiscriminate other than on this basis. Would you own the Pope and the Catholic Church? Would you repudiate the Reformed faith? Burnt, disemboweled, dismembered, Each death, each filth-strewn carcass, each corpse cast into the river, it's a tragedy. But it's the scale of the violence that's most overwhelming. Thousands upon thousands dead. And it wasn't only Paris. There's 12 other cities, and the weeks that followed saw something similar. Toulouse, Bordeaux, Leon, Bourges, Rouen, Orleans, Meaux, Angers, La Charité, Saumur, Gaelic and Troyes. It's a good opportunity for me to instruct my French friends in the correct pronunciation of these names. There was a perverse carnival atmosphere at Orleans. There was the sound of lutes and guitars and the chanting mob as they massacred in the streets there. In our society, it's horrifying when there's a report of one killing. It fills the media for days, speculating what had happened. And it's right that we're outraged. But this is 20,000, maybe 30,000 individuals. We can't take it in, can we? The scale off of men and women and children. Not soldiers at war. as families at home. Terrorised community suffered in many ways. Many were intimidated to recant, others fled, seeking refuge abroad, and the wars of religion continued. Maybe a legitimate question is, but why was there such violence? Of course, they say that a civil war is the worst kind of war. Explaining that animalistic brutality, a contemporary Huguenot poet said, man ceased to be man. But where did that enmity, where did that rage come from? With the edict of toleration, which had brought a cessation to the war, it may have brought an end to the fighting, but it hadn't lifted attention, and it hadn't brought reconciliation or peace. It didn't in 1563, and nor in 1568, and nor recently in 1570. The war kept breaking out because the edicts were not enforced, nor had anything changed. There was resentment, there was fear, and there was suspicion. There was the festering of past grievance. The widow of Philippe de Castines, along with the remaining survivors of her family, were early victims in Paris. There was much violent rhetoric. One of the leading Catholic clerics in Paris, Simon Vigor, was called the bellows of Satan, and he raged about the enemy within the gates, the infection within the body, and that the wild beasts from Geneva should be exterminated by a bitter death. This, together with twisted superstition of Rome, ideology of crusade and holy war, It doesn't appear that the Pope had instigated these events. But he was soon enthusiastically celebrating them. There was religious processions, there was the firing of cannons, and the commissioning of frescoes, which still adorn the Vatican today. And there was blind hatred. It wasn't just, it wasn't men and women, girls and boys. There were heretics, there were Huguenots. There weren't people. Wild, deranged beasts capable of bringing the wrath of God upon a nation. Outsiders. Those who by definition didn't, couldn't belong. These were the ones who were to blame. The scapegoats upon whose head was poured all the frustrations of a difficult age. There was also fear. Wasn't this the enemy who could have just have easily done the same to them? Didn't the Huguenots disrupt Catholic worship and destroy Catholic churches? Their armies had fought resiliently and won increasing concessions in these edicts of toleration. Little more than a generation before, there wasn't such a thing as a Huguenot. And now they're everywhere. One's married to the king's sister. Huguenots were traitors. They turned against their own people. They'd forsaken their God. No doubt envy played a part. Self-interest. The nobles from across the nation who gathered in Paris were, of course, they were nobles and they were rich. The prison mob were not. And then there was these bourgeois artisans and merchants whose industry had brought financial advantage. There was the violence, but there was also looting and there was pillaging. There was extortion. And then you have the madness of a mob, whipped into a frenzy, incensed, provoked, cajoled by ambitious, hateful men. And then it was legitimized in the king's name. and it was the support of the king's men. Together with all these factors, surely we also have to acknowledge there was something devilish. Unseen. Unseen and not acknowledged by society at large. The influence of Satan warring against the church of Christ. And Apostle Paul warns about the consequence of unchecked anger. He says in Ephesians 4, 26, be ye angry and sin not. Let not the sun go down upon your wrath, neither give place to the devil. Because sustained rage leaves one open and vulnerable to devilish influence. And the people were angry, angry, angry. We see this through the scriptures, don't we? The narrative, the scriptures. Sometimes it's whole people. Other times it's key individuals with a consuming intolerance for Christ and for his church. Think of Egypt and the Holocaust and the Nile. Athaliah exterminating the royal seed. Wicked Haman, Herod the Great. And under the Roman Empire, Soviet Russia, Mao's, China, Cambodia, think of Afghanistan, Boko Haram, Nazi Germany. And today, we're confronted as a society by a liberal ideology. There's nothing liberal about it, of course. It's fueled by outrage. and is increasingly determined to destroy all the foundations of society. And the assault's on a broad front. And it's not simply against the Church of Christ. There'll be much collateral damage. But it's not misplaced paranoia on our part to recognize there's something devilish there, and the target is the Church of Christ and all things that are good. The Lord said, if you were of the world, the world would love his own. But because you're not of the world, but I've chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you. They persecuted me, they will also persecute you. A significant failing of secular history is to discount the reality of God and to discount the reality of the devil. discount the reality of covenant purpose. Just because the people who are animated by the devil are ignorant, often, doesn't mean that he hasn't animated them. The evidence is clear. Now how can it be that otherwise reasonable and rational, sophisticated societies can perpetrate such hateful violence? You know, the St Bartholomew's Day Massacre is only one example of it. He said that Charles, the king, was himself swept up with a madness. There's an infamous etching of him holding a rifle, shooting into a melee of fleeing forms. Whether that was accurate or not, after initially distancing himself from the violence, he started to say that he had done so He blamed the House of Guise, but he changed the story. He saw how the Catholics were celebrating, not condemning the massacre, and so he issued a declaration, and he claimed it occurred by his express command, and he had a medal struck, showing himself as the hero of the day. When news of the massacre reached Edinburgh in early September, it was a heavy blow for Knox. He would die later that year, only three months after. His grief was double, not only for the reformed cause, but he'd spent much time in France. These were his friends. These were his colleagues. He's frail. He was in obvious physical decline. He was helped into the pulpit in St. Giles. And he thundered out the vengeance of God against that cruel and false traitor, the King of France. And he commissioned the French ambassador who was present, Le Croc, to tell his master that sentence had been pronounced against him in Scotland, and that divine vengeance would never depart from him, nor from his house, if repentance did not ensue. Le Croc protested to the regent who was no longer married of guise, but the Protestant Earl of Mar. He was not encouraged in any way. He was given no satisfaction and he left Scotland. You can't imagine he gave a verbatim report when he got home to Paris. But it was, as Knox declared, Charles IX. He wasn't a strong man physically or emotionally, but he died deeply troubled two years later. The Huguenot poet, Daubigny, who was a contemplative of these events, depicts it in this way. He says, until his death, the king's dreadful conscience devours him in the evening. All night, torments him. By day, hisses like a snake. His own soul destroys him. In fear of itself, it flees from him. And Charles died and was succeeded by his brother, Henry III. Within the palace, Henry de Bourbon, had been protected from the assault. He was held prisoner. He was compelled to convert. He was a colourful character. He was full of energy and dash. He was skilled to become a skilled general. He was an effective politician. He was an aspiring leader, but he was not a man of principle. He was an opportunist. He escaped from the court after four years to lead the Huguenot cause from 1576. But ultimately, he would recant again. Unable to press his claim to the throne following the death of the last Baobab king, Henry III, Henry de Bourbon concluded, that Paris was worth a mass. He may not have said that, but that's clearly what he concluded. And he became his most Christian majesty, Henry IV of France. But despite his compromise, he remained a friend to his Huguenot companions. Following his coronation, he was active in instigating the 1598 Edict of Nantes, which brought to an end the wars of religion. And the real significant difference between this and the edicts following the previous episodes in the wars of religion was the will of the king. Henry was determined that the wars would end, and in this he succeeded. Under the Edict of Nantes, Protestants and Catholics lived separate lives in distinct communities, and they benefited from a period of peace that didn't break until the reign of Henry's son, Louis XIII. Can we draw some lessons from this? The first is that de Coligny, this man who was tremendously significant in his day, the cause of Christ was not ultimately dependent upon him. Nor was it dependent upon Calvin, nor upon Luther, nor upon Knox, nor any other individual. They were served up to serve for time. Ultimately, it was Henri de Bourbon, the pragmatist, who brought about peace, which lasted for a generation. He was no more Protestant than he was Catholic. But God can, and God does, use pragmatists. He uses ambitious kings. He uses politicians full of self. It served Henry to establish peace throughout France. And consequently, the church was given a significant period of rest after all the years of violence. We have to see the grace of God in this. We have to rejoice in his overruling sovereign grace. Now look at the political scene today. I mean, who will you vote for? Who could you vote for? There's no one. But we have to recognize that the Lord is able to raise up the most unlikely individuals to become perhaps unwittingly instruments in his hand to even nourish his church. If you read Isaiah 44 and 45, You see the promise of Cyrus, Cyrus who would bring liberty to the people of God. In his generation, Henry IV, Henry de Bourbon was a Cyrus, a French Cyrus. We can't anticipate who it might be that the Lord would use significantly in his hands in their own generation. The Lord doesn't lose elections. It's not the wrong man who's made king. Might not be a good man. Might not be our man. But our God is sovereign. The enemies of the cross, they overstretched. Disturbed by the violence, there was a realignment of the Catholic faction. And there was the emergence of a group called the politicians. And they were a more moderate party who sought to coexist, not to destroy the Huguenots. And they sought for the expulsion of the Florentines and the Lorraines, that's Catherine de' Medici in the House of Guise. And they strengthened the hand of Henry Bourbon. Second lesson is to see how the resolve of the Protestant nations was stiffened as a result of the violence. In England, Elizabeth Tudor, her Secretary of State, Sir Francis Walsingham, had been an ambassador in France and was in Paris at the time of the massacre. And so when he returned to England, he was advocating support for the Huguenots and support for the Protestants against the violence of the Catholic Church. That means that Elizabeth supported the Dutch and the Scots and the Huguenots against Catholic tyranny. As a result of that, Spain launched its Armada and lost it. The Dutch won their independence. You know the history of the church in Scotland. Thirdly, the events of 1572, the massacre in St. Bartholomew's Day, it was 200 years prior to the French Revolution. But what transpired in these days had an influence. A journalist in the days of the French Revolution said that the violence that was happening then was nothing compared to what had happened before and sought to excuse it as a consequence. You know, brutalized people will behave brutally. Maybe a greater impact was that France had for generations either destroyed or driven away those who would have added to our greatness, and whose successors under the hand of God may have been the means of averting bloodshed and bringing transformation to society through the influence of the gospel, as was seen in the United Kingdom, rather than the chaos and the terror of revolution. Another lesson is the challenge to live wisely, even when provoked. Your words, your actions matter. Calvin was never for revolution. If necessary, resist, rebuke, but not revolution. Remove idolatrous worship, but do so by lawfully appointed officers, not by the mob. an impulsive lack of restraint giving excuse to those who opposed the gospel. There's no place for bigotry. Just because you're right, doesn't make it right. We can also learn the Christian courage and determination of those who did not recant under duress. Also the courage and determination of those who stood in the battlefield and those who stood in the royal court. But just as the action of the leadership can have an impact upon the resolve of the wider church, the resolve of the wider church has an impact upon the leadership and the colony significance was because of the many small people who stood faithful and who would worship faithfully. Another lesson, the place of the Psalter. It was banned because it strengthened the Reformed church. How helpful the Psalms are to express and shape our theology in all the rough places of life. Another lesson, the Roman Catholic Church for all its posturing has not. altered its position, celebrated when the news of the massacre came, and these frescoes still exist upon the walls of the Vatican, and it's apparently the place where the Pope would entertain ambassadors and monarchs. It asserts how Rome believes heretics should be dealt with. Interestingly, Pope John Paul II, who was in Paris for the World Youth Day in August, 1997 was planning a public mass on the 24th of August. It was the 125th anniversary of the massacre. There was an ecumenical movement which communicated with him and there was no response asking about the massacre and the significance of the date. But eventually he was embarrassed into making a statement, but he didn't deal with it. He just mumbled over because of course, he and those who've been before him. They cannot err. Final lesson. It wasn't in vain. Over the generations, the Reformed Church did not flourish in France as it did in other lands. But its impact reached and reaches far beyond France. Calvin's Geneva cannot be separated from the legacy of the Huguenot Church. One historian estimates that at the time of the American Revolution in 1776, 85 to 95% of the colonies were under Geneva influence. Today, we enjoy the legacy and the influence of the reformed French Christians. whose theology and ecclesiology were tempered under the intensity of violent opposition. The House of Valois is no more, the House of Bourbon is no more, the House of Guise, the Medici family, so significant for a short time, they're all gone. The Pope who celebrated, we don't remember which one it was. Think of all the inappropriate names they have. Was it a clement, an innocent, Pious? Gone. The citizens turn killers of Paris. They're only remembered for the shame of their foul deed. But the church of the Lord Jesus Christ endures, and shall endure. Not historic remembrance, but a vibrant living reality. The Ugro church had two symbols, like ourselves, the burning bush, but there was another, as an anvil. Theodore Biza said to the King of Navarre, Sire, the church of God is an anvil, which has broken many a hammer. Thank you.