Chapter 12: Council of Constance
When the disputes between the popes and the emperors had somewhat died down, a new scandal fell upon the Church in the fourteenth century. After almost 75 years in Avignon, in 1377 the papacy returned to Rome permanently under Gregory XI. This was an important move, and there was much to be done in order to re-establish the papal court in the Eternal City. Gregory XI accomplished little in this regard, however, for in March of 1378 he died, and the confusion that resulted afterward continued to plague the Church for almost forty years. When Gregory XI died, the people of Rome were most insistent that the new pope be elected immediately and in Rome itself; they also wanted a Roman, or at least an Italian pope. As a result, the cardinals then present in Rome proceeded to elect the first Italian pope in almost 75 years, even though they were mostly French cardinals. The man elected was the Archbishop of Bari; he chose the name of Urban VI. The election was a joy to the Italian populace, but it soon proved a burden to the cardinals. By September, even the few Italian cardinals had become discontent under the harshness of this admittedly tactless Pope.
Then a most unheard of thing took place. After much secret planning, the cardinals left Rome and gathered at Anagni. There they announced that the election of Urban was invalid, since pressure had been brought to bear upon them. Soon after they elected a second "pope," Clement VII, as he called himself. This marks the beginning of the Great Western Schism.
It is generally agreed today that there was no reason for calling the election of Urban VI invalid; it had followed all the prescribed norms. Under these circumstances, however, there was great confusion. Today, far from the fracas, we can more calmly single out the true Pope. At the time, there were many who judged the reports to be true, and who therefore accepted Clement VII as the true Pope. On the other hand, there were Catholics who continued to accept Urban VI as the validly elected Pope. The end result was a split in the Christian world that would last from 1378 until 1417.
The difficulty was not whether the Church had a Pope or not; it was simply a question of who he was. Many sincere people, even some of the saints, were confused and supported the wrong man. As a result, as each contestant died, a successor was elected by the cardinals who supported him; thus a line of popes was established on each side. Today we speak of the "Roman Line," which represents the true popes, following Urban VI; and the "Avignon Line," indicating Clement VII and the man who succeeded him, who eventually installed themselves as pope at Avignon:
Roman Line
Urban VI (1378-1389)
Boniface IX (1389-1404)
Innocent VII (1404-1406)
Gregory XII (1406-1415)
Avignon Line
Clement VII (1378-1394)
Benedict XIII (1394-1417)
Confusion was multiplied even more as both of these men continued to name bishops and cardinals, to assign them to various dioceses, and to punish or excommunicate certain members of both parties. Obviously, of course, only the true Pope had the right to do these things; but no one was sure which one he was - perhaps not even the antipopes themselves.
In time, voices were raised, especially at the University of Paris, suggesting that the schism could be solved only by having the two men resign, and electing a new pope at a General Council. This was ultimately to be the solution of the problem, but it was not an unmixed blessing. Underneath this there was being formulated the teaching of "Conciliarism," that is, that a General Council is superior to the Pope. This would destroy the nature of the Church established by Christ on Peter. We describe the Church as a monarchical society; this means the rule of one man, above all, serving as the vicar of Christ. The Conciliar Theory would subject the vicar of Christ to the power of a General Council.
The Avignon Pope at times began to consider accepting these plans, but he died before any results were achieved. Immediately a successor was elected, Benedict XIII. Although he was not the true pope, Benedict at least withstood the moves of the Conciliar Party. He and Gregory XII became the leading figures of what seemed to be a solution to the schism.
For a time it had seemed as though a meeting of the two parties could be arranged and an agreement reached. But the preparations proved futile. Political maneuvers abounded on all sides. The next step only added to the already existing confusion. Growing more and more disgruntled with the proceedings in both parties, the majority of cardinals on both sides agreed to abandon both of the contending Popes, and meet in a Council that would attempt to solve this problem. If the two men would not abdicate, they would be deposed by this Council, and a new pope elected.
This meeting actually took place at Pisa in 1409, apart from both Popes, and it resulted in the election of still another Pope. He took the name of Alexander V; he is the first of the so-called "Pisan Line." He lived less than a year, and was succeeded by another antipope, John XXIII. Pisa had been a great and well-attended gathering, but it marked a high point in the Conciliar Movement. The cardinals from both parties had met and acted without papal confirmation, accepting the theory that a General Council is superior to the Pope.
There were now three men, all claiming to be the lawful vicar of Christ. The final solution came through the Council of Constance. Despite all the confusion and misunderstanding that surrounded it, this gathering ranks as an Ecumenical Council of the Church. If ever the Holy Spirit managed to exert His influence in the Church through the most unlikely of instruments, it was through this Council.
A new figure entered the scene at this stage: Sigismund of Luxemburg, who was elected King of the Romans in 1411. He came to Italy to arrange a Council with the antipope John XXIII (who had held a rather badly attended Council in Rome in 1412). Sigismund insisted on Constance as the city where the sessions should be held; John XXIII gave way to his wishes.
The result is a peculiar situation from our point of view. The Council of Constance was first set in motion by the Emperor and a man who was not actually the true Pope! The truth is, however, that all three "Popes" at some time came into contact with this Council; all agreed in some manner to its proceedings; and Martin V, who was to emerge from the Council as the next pope, approved most of the decrees of the Council. Thus it was a General Council of the universal Church, even though some of the decrees issued were out-and-out heresy; these decrees were rejected by later popes. In this, the gathering was not unlike some of the earlier Councils, which also got out of hand, and were approved only in part by the Roman Pontiff. But like them, this Council remained a General Council in the proper sense of the word in those matters which were approved by the head of the body of bishops.
In October of 1413, Sigismund announced to the Christian world that the Council would open on November 1, 1414. In December of that year John XXIII, who was at Lodi, issued a bull of convocation. At that time, John XXIII had many followers, although his cause would later collapse.
John XXIII arrived at Constance toward the end of October, 1414. The city lies along the Lake of Constance, a northern city, but one then outside the French rule. The Council was declared to be opened on November 1 of that year, although the first solemn session did not take place until November 16. On the following day, the 17th, Peter d'Ailly, the cardinal bishop of Cambrai, arrived. He was, in large measure, the "soul" of the entire gathering, even though his own views were more than tainted with the error of Conciliarism. In December, Sigismund also reached the city. In number, about 300 bishops and abbots attended, together with a large number of theologians and canon lawyers. It is almost impossible, however, to determine the exact number associated with this rather drawn-out Council.
Of the three men then looked upon as "Pope," all had more or less agreed to resign the office in the interests of the peace of the Church. John XXIII has been greatly discussed by later biographers, perhaps even calumniated; but he was far from the spiritual type of ecclesiastic. Nevertheless, he did recognize the need for a solution, and despite the confusion he caused, he remained more or less faithful to his agreement. He regarded himself as the lawful pope, of course; he based his claim on the action of the Council at Pisa.
Gregory XII, whom we recognize today as the lawful pope, was about 87 years old. He was most insistent that he remain pope, but agreed that he would resign if need be. As his condition for so doing, he stipulated that John XXIII must not be accepted as the true pope at all. The Avignon pope, Benedict XIII, preferred to deal directly with the Emperor; in the long run, this man may have been the least co-operative. He had retired to Spain, and had avoided all earlier attempts at reunion.
From the start, it was obvious to the Council that the only possible solution was to have all three contestants resign and elect another man. This would mean, of course, that the lawful Pope would have to give up his office along with the other two; but this had been done before, and was perfectly in accord with the laws of the Church.
There were some objections from the cardinals who had taken part in the discussions at Pisa; they wanted the Council of Constance to recognize this gathering and its decisions. Peter d'Ailly managed to convince them that this was not the prudent thing to do; it would only cause greater doubts and confusion. The address in which he accomplished this feat was overloaded with errors of a conciliar nature; but fortunately the main goal was achieved, and the matter was dropped.
By January of 1415, the support enjoyed by John XXIII began to falter. There were at first rather hidden attacks upon him and his office; he had insisted all along that the Council recognize him as the lawful pope. Finally the suggestion was brought out into the open that all three, including John, would have to resign. About the same time, word reached the Council that both Gregory XII and Benedict XIII were agreeable to such a plan; it was apparent to John that he also would have to oblige. He was not pleased, however. At first he offered to make a public confession of his faults; the offer was rejected, and on March 1, 1415, John solemnly promised to resign if the other two did likewise.
Benedict XIII had asked for negotiations to take place elsewhere in his regard; the Emperor agreed to this. There was some fear, however, that the Council might break up. Sigismund, however, refused to allow anyone to leave Constance. He insisted that the Council remain together until its task was accomplished. Shortly after that, strange to say, John himself escaped from Constance during the excitement of a tournament, disguised as a stableman. From Schaffhausen he did write to the Council, informing them that he would still stand by his promises.
This act of John upset those at Constance, of course; this time, it was Sigismund who kept them all there. A delegation was sent to John, but everything he said continued to annoy those taking part in the gathering. It is significant that during these days the bishops formulated the now famous "Articles of Constance," the heretical statements, declaring that a General Council is superior to the Pope. These were approved in the fourth and fifth sessions (March 30 and April 6, 1415). The vote was taken up according to nations, as had been previously agreed. This had been one of the perplexing problems of the Council. To allow each individual a vote might have permitted a majority from a larger country to control the decisions. As a result, the nations voted in one bloc: the Italians, Germans, French, English, and somewhat later the Spanish. What was agreed on by the nations (nationaliter) would then be set forth solemnly by the Council (conciliariter).
Between April 17 and May 29 the formula of abdication for John XXIII was drawn up and he was solemnly deposed. He was invited to come back to the Council; he chose to send his representatives. They could accomplish nothing in his behalf, so that at the tenth session, John was declared suspended, and at the twelfth session (May 29) he was solemnly deposed. John was, by now, a broken man; he accepted the decree with no protest. He was kept under guard nearby. Later, after Martin V had been elected the new pope, John returned to union with him. He died in 1419 as a cardinal under Martin V. Since he was not the true pope, the present pontiff assumed the name John XXIII when he was elected in 1958.
What some of the members of the Council may have thought they were doing is an interesting question. Many were surely convinced that they were deposing the lawful Pope; this was the man they had accepted as such. Their conciliar notions led them to such an action. In point of fact, however, they had not deposed the Pope; there was only one true vicar of Christ. It was, then, to Gregory XII that the Council now turned its attention.
It is both interesting and important to note that Gregory insisted to the end that he was the only lawful pope, and that everything done by the Council was accomplished in a manner that would safeguard his claims. In January, 1415, the delegates of Gregory had notified the Council of his willingness to abdicate; in June of that year, his representatives arrived at Constance, empowered to act with full authority in his name.
These representatives first went to the Emperor, since Gregory did not admit this as a lawful Council. Because of this position, the Emperor acceded to their desires and presided at the fourteenth session (July 4, 1415). The representatives thereupon read the abdication of Gregory, and also the decree which authorized them to convoke this Council, by reason of the resignation; it was accordingly authorized to act as a General Council and proceed to the election of a new pope. Gregory had taken this step "for the union and the reform of the Church, and to destroy heresy." He died two years later, October 18, 1417.
The problem of Benedict XIII had to be solved before a new pope could be elected. This required more negotiating. Benedict did finally agree to give up his claims, but only on the condition that all of the sentences levied against him be removed, especially those issued by the gathering at Pisa. In February of 1416 the Council ratified this agreement; in October of that year, Spain was granted its vote along with the other nations. Not until July 26, 1417, however, were all the preliminaries finished; the final decree was then accepted, deposing Benedict.
The final problem was the election of a new pope, and this also brought forth disagreements. There was first of all the question of who ought to elect him. For over 350 years, only cardinals had been entrusted with this task; yet some did not trust the cardinals after all these experiences. In addition, the Emperor wanted the Council to decree reforms at once, before the election; most of the cardinals, however, insisted that the new pope be chosen first. The problem had begun to be discussed in June of 1417, even before Benedict XIII had been deposed. By October, a compromise was reached, mostly through the efforts of the English Cardinal, Henry Beaufort.
The Council would first declare that as soon as the Pope was elected, the matter of Church reform had to be treated; at the same time, it would immediately issue a list of reforms on which all were now agreed; and finally, a special commission would be established to determine the manner in which the pope should be elected.
Of the decrees issued at this time, the most famous is the Frequens, which established the need of frequent Councils. One was to be held five years after Constance, the next one seven years after that, and then every ten years. Another decree provided that if a schism should occur again, a Council would meet within the year to settle the question.
It was finally decided that the twenty-three cardinals would take part in the election, along with thirty other delegates (six from each of the five nations); this procedure would hold true only for this election. So it was that, after a short conclave of three days, Martin V appeared as the new and undisputed Pope on November 11, 1417. Questions of reform and the new matter of concordats (or agreements) with the nations occupied the Council until it finally ended on April 22, 1418; this was in the forty-fifth session, some three and a half years after the Council began.
The most important work of the Council was naturally the ending of the schism and the election of a new pope. The problems related to this, however, continued to trouble the Church in the years that followed. The conciliar notions had not yet died out, and it was the uneasy task assigned to Martin V to weave in and out of the maze of difficulties without upsetting things and causing a new schism; the independent spirit that had caused these problems was unfortunately not smothered by his election.
Pope Martin V approved the acts of the Council, with the exception of those which proposed Conciliarism. Some have questioned whether this was really a General Council because of the difficulties involved, but in the fight of many earlier Councils, there should be no doubt. The sessions which took place after Martin V had been elected raise no problem at all, but his acceptance of the earlier decisions would be sufficient to make them of equal force.
Among the other decrees of the Council, the most important were the condemnations of the teachings of John Wyclif and John Hus. Wyclif had died in 1384, but his teaching was still alive. He had been an Oxford theologian, condemned in England in 1382. In that same year, the English King had married the sister of the King of Bohemia, thus opening an exchange of interest and ideas between the two countries. One of the results of this union was that the teaching of Wyclif gradually found its way to Prague, where, about the beginning of the fifteenth century, it captured the mind of John Hus (1370-1415), the rector of the University of Prague and a well-known preacher.
The doctrine of Wyclif and of Hus is surprisingly like that which is to appear a hundred years later at the time of the Protestant Revolt; it is an important indication that the mentality which formed the Revolt was already being created long before the time of Luther. Wyclif had challenged the visible structure of the Church, rejected the Sacrifice of the Mass, and emphasized Scripture as the sole rule of faith.
Wyclif, as we have said, was dead at the time of the Council of Constance; thus only his doctrine was condemned. Hus, however, was brought to Constance and condemned for teaching the errors of Wyclif; he had already been excommunicated by the Archbishop of Prague and then by the antipope, John XXIII. The Council declared him a heretic, and when he refused to reject these beliefs, he was handed over to the civil authorities for execution. This was the manner of dealing with all heretics at the time; as late as 1553 the Geneva Calvinists would inflict the same penalty in the famous case of Michael Servetus, who had attacked the doctrine of the Trinity. The death of Hus, however, became something of a national symbol in Bohemia where his followers formed the Hussite party.
Among his many problems, Martin V was still faced with the question of Conciliarism, and it is this that leads us to the next General Council. The Council of Constance decreed that a General Council should be held five years after the close of this gathering, i.e., in 1423 - the worst possible time for a Council. Wars were raging on all sides, and it was soon apparent that few bishops would be able to attend. Nevertheless, Martin arranged for a Council to open at Pavia in April of that year; in June the plague struck in Pavia and the legates moved the gathering to Siena. It was not until November that enough bishops were present for any kind of Council; even at that, there were only about twenty-five. The discussions which did take place indicated the danger that was still very much present:
Conciliarism. Nothing was accomplished by this feeble effort, and in March of 1424 the legates dissolved the Council, agreeing to hold the next gathering at Basel in 1431 (seven years later, as stipulated at Constance).
Pope Martin V had come through safely with one "required" Council; not enough bishops attended nor enough was done to constitute a General Council. He would possibly have preferred no more Councils at all, and with good reason; the spirit of Conciliarism remained a constant threat to the peace of the Church. As the year 1431 approached, however, little notices were tacked on the papal walls, reminding him and the people of the need to proclaim the next Council. The implications were clear enough: if he failed to do so, others could convoke the Council for him. Again Martin decided it was better to go along with the plans, in the hope of keeping the gathering under control. He announced the next Council in February of that year, but he died three weeks later.
The next pontiff, Eugene IV, confirmed the decree summoning the Council at Basel, in Switzerland. Once more, the gathering got off to a bad start; hardly anyone showed up. In July, the discussions started, but the hall was still almost empty. As more and more delegates did arrive matters started to get confused. On December 14, 1431, the first session was held, but at that very moment, a decree was on its way from Rome, empowering the legates to dissolve the Council; four days later a second document was signed by Eugene actually dissolving it. The reports he had received indicated that this might well become another unruly gathering; his fears were not unfounded.
Regardless of what the spirit had been from the start, the bishops who had gathered at Basel were angered when they heard that the Pope had dissolved the Council. They reissued the heretical decrees of Constance, stating once again that the General Council is superior to the Pope, and that he has no power to dissolve such a gathering.
This series of misunderstandings continued. For a time it seemed the Pope would once again enter into negotiations with the Council; but he refused to accept the decrees concerning the supremacy of a General Council. The disputes dragged on and on for years, always much the same. At long last, on January 1, 1438, Eugene IV gave up the practice of struggling for time by diplomacy and discussion, and ordered a fresh start at Ferrara.
This marked the final break. The bishops who embraced the Conciliar Theory refused to yield; they continued in open schism until 1449, electing once again an antipope. This time, however, they were clearly a minority. The position of Pope Eugene was stronger, and the Council he called at Ferrara was well attended: we speak of it today as the Council of Florence. Its main concern was to be an attempt at reunion with the Greek schismatics. During the calmer years at Basel, the first steps were taken to contact the Greeks in the hope of bringing them back to the Church. The discussions with the Greeks actually took place at Ferrara and Florence.
Strangely, the world was now faced with the spectacle of not only two popes again, but of two contending Councils. But this time there was to be no repetition of the Great Western Schism. What was done at Basel had no lasting effect. Basel was never recognized as a General Council, although in later disputes with the Roman Pontiff the heretical decrees of both Constance and Basel were cited as definitions of the Church; this was especially true in the so-called Gallican Liberties affirmed in the seventeenth century by a large body of French clergy.
As had happened often in the past, out of much confusion the Holy Spirit managed to set forth clearly and firmly the unchanging truth. Not only was the immediate problem solved, but the doctrine concerning the papacy was greatly clarified. Today, the role of the vicar of Christ is perceived more clearly because of the unruly disputes carried on during this period of the Church's life.