All this was more offensive to the chattering classes than to the parishioner in the pew, for whom the daily functioning of the kirk was largely unchanged. In any case these constitutional questions were of secondary significance. Changes to forms of worship, however, were far more likely to evoke a reaction in the localities. It was in forms of worship that the signs of a true church were manifest – preaching and sacraments – and it was in worship that ordinary Christians encountered the visible church. In Scotland discipline was often seen as a mark of a true church, and the kirk sessions, which assumed responsibility for discipline, had planted deep roots in the religious and political life of local communities.35 The kirk had deep local roots and it was of course a formal presumption of Reformation thought that the laity should be well-informed. The radical potential of Reformation ideas was not socially restricted and the details of local religious practice were habitually invested with considerable, even apocalyptic, significance. Changing local religious practice ran the risk of arousing principled resistance from the whole Christian congregation. It is not perhaps surprising, therefore, that James met more significant resistance to proposed changes in worship after 1612 than he had to his reforms of church government.
Worship in the kirk had initially used the English Prayer Book of 1549, but this had given way in the early years of the Reformation to a more austere Book of Common Order, although there is some evidence that it was sometimes used alongside the English Book. Dissatisfied with the Book of Common Order, James promoted a new Prayer Book. He was not alone in thinking that the Book needed attention, and it may have been falling out of use through neglect in the early seventeenth century. James’s new Book went through three drafts after having been commissioned at a General Assembly in 1616, the final one closely resembling the English Prayer Book. However, although it was ready for printing in 1619, it was never issued, a reflection of hostility to these changes in the form of worship. In the meantime the Five Articles of Perth (enjoining the observance of the main holy days in the Christian calendar, kneeling at communion, private communion, private baptism and confirmation by bishops) had caused serious difficulty at a General Assembly in 1617. Although they were bullied through an assembly at Perth in 1618 and a parliament in 1621, they were not subsequently enforced, and in securing consent James had promised not to promote any more changes. In the meantime the Prayer Book was dropped.36
By the 1620s Scottish Presbyterianism stood in a rather uneasy tension with the episcopal authority favoured by the crown. Episcopal authority was not particularly welcome, and for sound historical reasons many thought that Scottish Christians could not depend on the crown to promote godliness. But changes in church government were of far less immediate and widespread concern than changes to forms of worship – James had secured some success in turning back the tide of Presbyterianization in the kirk, but had been forced to leave off attempts to change the liturgy. Many Scottish Protestants had by the 1620s developed a pretty austere view of appropriate forms of worship. Unlike many other Protestant churches, for example, it had abandoned the celebration of Christmas. This strand of opinion was again at odds with the preferences of the monarch. A greater emphasis on ceremonial was likely to be seen as a retreat from reformation, particularly if it was associated with the authority of bishops, and there were also plenty of vested interests hostile to the increasing political and administrative power of the bishops. Crucially for the mobilization of the Covenanting movement, the Presbyterian system had deep roots in Scottish society: kirk sessions exercised an often quite effective control over the lives of the local population and integrated local worship into a national church. It was probably parochial self-determination, as much as the precise content of worship, that mattered.37
The Scottish Reformation had left unresolved tensions about both the internal organization of the kirk and its relationship with the secular power of the monarchy. There was a strong but not unchallengeable case that the purity of Scottish religion depended on the independence of the kirk from monarchical and episcopal control. At the same time, in the localities, a Calvinist discipline had developed with a far closer embrace of social life than had been achieved in England.
These big issues in Reformation politics acquired a particular edge in the years following the outbreak of war in Bohemia in 1618. What became the Thirty Years War engulfed much of the Holy Roman Empire, which dominated central Europe, and involved armies from the whole continent. Lands gained for Protestantism in the sixteenth century fell to Catholic forces, and for some publicists this came to represent a battle for the future of the true religion.38 Of course, it was in reality both more and less than this, but the implications of that battle were relevant in every place of worship in Christendom. As Protestant armies fought for the future of the true religion, so creeping popery at home seemed more shocking. Many Scots left to fight these wars in the 1620s and 1630s,39 and the battle on the home front was not neglected.
At the same time Calvinist orthodoxy was challenged by forms of Protestantism which questioned predestinarian theology, and placed a greater emphasis on ritual and edification. These tendencies were denounced as ‘Arminian’, creating an association with a bitterly divisive controversy in the Dutch republic in the early seventeenth century provoked by the anti-predestinarian preaching of Arminius. His followers, who became known as the Remonstrants, rejected double predestination and supralapsarian beliefs on the grounds that they made God the author of sin. But this reopened the possibility that responsibility for damnation lay with the sinner – as if free will, or the actions of humans, might affect the will of God – a question at the heart of the Reformation. It was also overlain with political significance, since the Arminians were associated with those supporting peace with Catholic Spain after nearly fifty years of war, and the abandonment of the southern Netherlands to Catholicism. In 1618 a synod was called at Dort, at which representatives of reformed churches from all over Europe were present. Stern predestinarian views were confirmed as the principal tenets of mature Calvinism, Arminianism was roundly condemned, and the Remonstrants were politically defeated in an associated coup.40
From the later 1620s onwards Charles was associated with changes in the English church which were denounced as Arminian, and this weakened respect for the English church in Scotland, which had in any case been very measured. England’s Reformation had also been marked by pragmatism and compromise. There, as in Scotland, predestinarian thought had been very influential, but Presbyterianism, ‘two kingdoms’ theory and austere views of worship were much less so. The ‘official Reformation’ of the 1530s had been primarily jurisdictional, excluding the authority of the Pope from the affairs of the English church, rather than doctrinal: ‘Catholicism without the Pope’, as its detractors have claimed ever since. Thereafter the Royal Supremacy in the Church was a vehicle for quite different purposes, not just under Henry VIII, whose official policy shifted somewhat, but much more so under his evangelical Protestant son Edward VI and Catholic daughter Mary. It was only with the accession of Elizabeth in 1558 that the Reformation was securely established, particularly if that is taken to imply the widespread acceptance of Protestantism among the English population. Even in the 1590s, as Elizabeth’s death approached, with no heir named, there were fears (or hopes) that the Protestantization of England might falter.41 Sir Cheney Culpeper was not alone in dating the start of the Reformation to Elizabeth’s reign, or in seeing it as unfinished business in the 1640s: writing in 1646 he thought that the imperial Antichrist (the Pope) ‘was (through God’s providence) pulled down 80 years since’, but the ‘spoil [was] divided between the King [sic] and bishops’. Now, in the excitement of the 1640s, he could see hopes for the completion of the process, the full liberation of Christians from such spiritual bondage.42
As Protestantism took firm root under Elizabeth a broad Calvinist consensus around the doctrine of predestination developed which survived into the reign of James I. University doctorates
and official policy consistently defended the doctrine, which acted as an ‘ameliorating bond’ among men divided on other issues. In particular, the English Reformation was unusual in leaving the institutions of the medieval church more or less completely intact. Bishops, cathedrals and church courts were preserved as the vehicle for the reformation of the faith, and the only (albeit very notable) casualty of reform was the regular clergy – the monasteries and nunneries had gone, alongside chantries, mainly as an act of asset stripping in order to finance war. Associated with the persistence of the institutions of the medieval church was the survival of traditional forms of worship: for example, the wearing of surplices by the clergy, kneeling at communion and other relatively formal tastes in worship. This ceremonialism was particularly prevalent in cathedrals (and Westminster Abbey) where professional musicians were also employed to help in the edification of the believers.43
Defence of tradition had been an important part of English Protestantism throughout the Elizabethan and Jacobean period, on the grounds that things which were not commanded by scripture might be demanded by the secular authority, so long as they were not actively against scripture. Many Calvinists could live with this without discomfort. Again this relates to the distinction between the visible and invisible church. Since it was not possible to know who was saved or damned it was quite reasonable to focus attention on the visible church of all believers. Such ‘credal’ Calvinists were also relatively reluctant to have predestination emphasized in preaching, fearing that it might encourage despair and sin in those who feared that they were not of the elect. The view that in matters ‘indifferent’ the preferences of the secular authority should be obeyed was most influentially argued by Richard Hooker in his Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity (published in instalments from 1593 onwards). To Hooker the ceremonies of the medieval church were a treasured inheritance, guaranteeing the unbroken succession of Christian community. Where they did not conflict with scripture they had an important positive role in the faith. He was even willing to defend the Church of Rome as a part of the visible church on these grounds. This last step of the argument points to the explosive tensions that might be released if the Calvinist consensus broke: many Protestants would balk at such a claim, given the common identification of the Pope with the Antichrist.44
For some Calvinists, however, it was not enough to admit the doctrine of predestination but to concentrate on the visible church; they felt driven to seek signs of their own election. This view – ‘experimental’ (‘experiential’ might be a better term) Calvinism – was associated with intense personal piety, often very introspective, and a desire to associate with others of a similar mind. This hotter sort of Protestant sought the signs in others of what they felt in themselves, forming networks of fellow travellers with an often critical view of the ceremonies and practices of the church. To such people ceremonialism and the continued existence of bishops and cathedrals might have been intolerable had the Church of England not borne the signs of a true church – the presence of the Word and the sacraments rightly administered. Labelled Puritans by their opponents, they could be driven to separate from the church over particular issues, or more commonly to live in a position of semi-separation, conforming to the Church of England but seeking supplementary spiritual comforts.45
Overall, then, the impact of Calvin on English Protestantism was more clearly felt in terms of theology than in matters of ecclesiastical organization. Predestinarian thought was very influential, but ‘two kingdoms’ theory was much less so. An Elizabethan movement to establish a national Presbyterian system was defeated and by the early seventeenth century those seeking further reformation focused more on invigorating the life of the parish.46 By 1640 Elizabeth was remembered in England as a champion of English Protestantism, successor to Bloody Mary and victor over the Spanish Armada – here was a model monarch for the English to remember. In the survival of medieval institutions and on ceremonial issues too, such as the wearing of vestments, the English embrace of Calvinism was less complete than the Scottish. But, and importantly for the politics of the Prayer Book rebellion, there were many English Calvinists who agreed with the Covenanters about Charles’s religious reforms, although they found themselves able to conform, in some degree, most of the time.
From the late 1620s Charles was closely associated with an influential reaction against even this dilute form of Calvinism, building on a shift of emphasis which had begun in the later years of James I. Prominent positions in the church were taken by men willing to challenge the hold of Calvinism on doctrine and practice. Charles came to embrace this programme and to promote this tendency more systematically. Underlying many of his religious preferences was a concern for order and decency, something that led him to back the authority of bishops and forms of ritual and church decoration that emphasized the holiness of worship. Under the authority of William Laud, initially as Bishop of London and later as Archbishop of Canterbury, and with the evident sympathy of Charles I, the English church became a safe haven for those opposed to predestinarian views and for those with relatively ceremonial tastes in worship. This was an important connection, too: a suspicion of, or hostility to, predestination gave renewed importance to the visible church as a means to salvation. Finally then, associated with this pursuit of beauty, order and decency in the visible church was a greater emphasis on the dignity and authority of the clergy. This ‘Laudian’ or ‘Arminian’ movement was not as unpopular in England as it would have been in Scotland. The danger, though, was that far from edifying believers this emphasis on holiness was a distraction, something that filled the senses, drawing attention away from the Word, and might even become an object of worship in itself.47
If the crown and bishops were not seen as the natural ally of reformation in Scotland, therefore, Charles I, his English church and Archbishop Laud were regarded with particular suspicion. As war between Protestant and Catholic powers broke out in Bohemia there was violent opposition to anti-predestinarian preaching in the Dutch republic. In England the promotion of ceremonialism was the really divisive issue, although it was also true that preaching predestination became more difficult under the government of Charles and William Laud. For informed and concerned Calvinists the danger was the same – that in the very period in which Protestantism was under sustained military assault, it was being weakened from within by the erosion of some of its fundamental theological commitments. Still worse, the Stuarts failed to intervene on the side of the true religion, despite the fact that James’s son-in-law was at the heart of the political crisis that had precipitated the war.
Popery was not necessarily about Catholics since weak Protestants (variously identified) could be popish too. Nonetheless the dangers of popery were (naturally enough) particularly associated with the Pope, and his agents. Especially reviled were the Jesuits, an order founded directly by the papacy in response to the challenge of the Protestant Reformation, and seminary priests trained in order to regain ordinary Christians for Catholicism in Protestant areas. It was unfortunate for Charles that the popishness of his Protestantism could so easily be associated with actual Catholicism at his court. Charles was married to a Catholic – Henrietta Maria – and under her influence his court was open to Catholic influences. From a certain point of view, therefore, the popishness of Laudianism was associated with an actual Catholic influence, which could only have adverse effects on the true religion under the Stuart crown. On past experience, this could become the basis of a conspiracy theory – that actual Catholics could, through the manipulation of weak and corrupt Protestants, subvert the true religion in England.48
To many Scottish Protestants the English court and church seemed to be betraying the Reformation message and the Protestant cause. This confirmed a lesson of history held with increasing conviction in Scotland – the kirk was not securely under a godly civil authority so long as kings, bishops and the English could determine matters of doctrine and liturgy. As the Prayer Book crisis unfolded, it was th
ese very large issues in Reformation politics, about the constitution of the church and its relationship to secular authority, which came to predominate.
Given the stakes we might wonder why Charles introduced these ceremonial changes in Scotland. The answer, in part, is that since the stakes were so high he could not afford not to. Charles’s relatively ceremonial sensibilities were out of tune with mainstream Scottish opinion and it may have been what he saw on his coronation visit to Scotland in 1633 that convinced him of the need to introduce changes to the Scottish Prayer Book. The practice of extempore prayer was particularly offensive to him: he preferred by far the solemnities and order of a set service. In any case, it was in 1634 that his Scottish bishops were invited to consider what changes were necessary to the English book in order to make it acceptable in Scotland. New ecclesiastical canons in January 1636 touched on these Scottish sensitivities about the creeping influence of bishops and of the Church of England. They confirmed the Five Articles of Perth but did not mention the General Assembly, presbyteries or kirk sessions by name. More troubling, or more obviously troubling, they placed restrictions on preaching which were enforced by episcopal licence.49
A willingness to press these sensitive reforms was not simply the product of personal conviction, however. Charles was monarch and head of the church: an important part of his sacred trust as he understood it was care for the salvation of his subjects. There were more practical concerns too. Charles had to govern three kingdoms (since 1541 monarchs of England had also been monarchs in Ireland) and live with three national churches. It was widely acknowledged in Reformation Europe that a people divided from their monarch on matters of religion could not be depended upon as loyal subjects. Monarchs in multiple monarchies faced the additional problem that if religion in their various realms was not uniform then it was an invitation to dissenters in one kingdom to make trouble on the basis of more favourable conditions offered by the same monarch to his or her subjects elsewhere. Like his father, Charles seems to have wanted to make the three churches more like one another, and to achieve that by applying pressure towards a form of worship with which he was more comfortable, but his preferences led him to make changes in all three kingdoms. Charles and Laud were probably pursuing greater conformity rather than uniformity, but it is also clear from their measures in relation to the Channel Islands and Massachusetts and stranger churches (congregations allowed in England to cater to the needs of foreign Protestants) that a common vision was at work: harmonization in fact meant altering the practice of all the churches under his crowns.50
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