about his hypocritical contemporaries, who did not suspend their services even when they knew Hus was in town, in direct violation of the interdict: “And Prague clergy along with the archbishop, knowing that I am here and that others have seen me, they did not interrupt God’s services despite the pope’s commandment that they do so. And so, themselves disobedient, they are cursed and profani, and they have lost their priesthood.”93 It seems strange that Hus would complain that his visit to the city did not reactivate the terms of the interdict, which would only have been inconvenient to himself. But the double standard, the fact that the clerics disobeyed the very same papal order that they punished Hus for disobeying, is at the heart of his final complaint.
Hus’s vernacular treatise On the Six Errors educated the laity about the proper extent of clerical privilege. Hus brought important theological distinctions to the people, teaching them about the true nature of divine authority and the very real limits of clerical powers. This is where he sailed into forbidden and quite polemical territory. Hus insisted that the priests held no authority over an individual’s eventual salvation or damnation. And if the priests behaved badly, they held no authority at all. He exhorted the laity to evaluate for themselves the edicts and pronouncements of ecclesiastical leaders, including the pope. Thus, On the Six Errors is both an attempt to help the laity understand the religious matters of their day and a theological justification of Hus’s own defiant disobedience of the papal curia. Between the lines, we hear Hus quietly assuring his followers that those in accordance with God’s law would be claimed as God’s own, regardless of the ritual or legal prohibitions of the church. By insisting that the church hierarchy had no authority over his eternal fate, Hus inserted an element of individualism: the power to decide for oneself whether one lived in accordance with God’s law. Divorcing the dictates of one’s conscience from the prescriptions of the church was among the first steps in building his own faction of supporters. This was also one of the long-lasting effects of Hus’s theological education, teaching his followers not to fear the clergy on account of their powers, but rather to examine their actions and test them against their conscience. As an education, this was a highly polemical and divisive one. Hus’s decision to display this polemical treatise says much about Hus’s intention to shape an antiestablishment faction under his own direction.
Hus Appeals to Christ
Hus’s legal troubles culminated in the fourth excommunication, announced on October 18, 1412, at the meeting of the Prague synod. Since the curia did not give him justice, Hus turned to a court that would, the court of public opinion. Instead of appealing the verdict through appropriate legal channels within the twenty-three days allotted to him, Hus published what came to be known as his “Appeal to Christ.” This document was addressed to “all faithful Christians” and explained the failures of due process. Hus argued that the present interdict, as well as the excommunication imposed upon him, was unjust and resulted from an abuse of the law.94
In a deliberate act of public theater, Hus announced his appeal to Christ from Bethlehem’s pulpit and concurrently had a translated version nailed to the gate of Mostecká tower in Prague’s Malá Strana as “broadsheet.”95 Hus’s long-time lawyer John of Jesenice may have advised against bringing the case before the laity.96 But John was momentarily away from Prague, and Hus acted in a way that maximized his public exposure even if it meant opting out of the legal system.97 The appeal was unprecedented in the history of medieval canon law and, in effect, illegal: “From the perspective of the papal court and its officers, the appeal was a deliberate breach of legal procedure, an effort to obfuscate canon law, and an act of defiance against the jurisdictional authority of the church.”98 There was some legal precedent, but no one before Hus had only appealed to Christ (all others also directed their appeal to some earthly institution). Moreover, Hus was the first to appeal a legal decision made by a court.99 Hus’s appeal was perhaps legally unwise, but it ultimately proved a public relations coup. Because he was unable to win the lawsuit brought against him by the curia, Hus reframed the contest as something he could win and claimed a moral, if not a legal, victory before a large audience of clerics and laity.
The “Appeal to Christ” consists of two parts, incongruent in their content but well suited to rally Hus’s supporters and demonstrate his innocence. The first part uses Old Testament language to frame Hus’s experience at the hands of the curia, depicting Hus as an innocent, unjustly persecuted victim of evildoers. There is no mention of canon law in the first section of the document; Hus relies solely on biblical allusions to victimhood and persecution.100
The document opens with a powerful invocation of God. Hus referred to Psalms 144 and 145 in calling on God the Father, the defender of those who suffer wrong, who is near to those who call upon him in truth, who frees those in fetters, fulfills the wishes of those who fear him, who preserves those who love him and crushes unrepentant sinners. Not coincidentally, Hus underscored the role of God as a helper to the oppressed, that is, in this case, himself. Hus turned next to Christ, who was unjustly hounded by prelates, masters, and Pharisees, priests, corrupt judges, and witnesses. The parallel between Christ’s and Hus’s lives was unmistakable. He couched his appeal in the language of the Psalms and the prophets, calling on Christ to be his helper and protector. His enemies were plotting against him and wished to cut him off from the land of the living (Jeremiah 11:18–20). Hus pleaded that Christ deliver him from his enemies (Psalm 58:2) and begged God to see and consider him (Lamentations 1:11). He complained that the enemies who afflicted him had multiplied (Psalm 3:2) and consulted together, that they were free to pursue and capture him (Psalm 70:10–11). Convinced that God had forsaken him, Hus continued to plead with Christ to look upon him, for many dogs had surrounded him and the council of the evildoers had besieged him. They had spoken against him with deceitful tongues, assaulted him with words of hatred and fought against him without cause. They denigrated him (Psalm 108:3–4) and repaid him with evil for good, and hatred for his love (Psalm 108:5).
However, the tone and content shift abruptly as Hus begins refuting the legal charges brought against him by the curia.101 Hus’s failure to appeal before the pope was the core of his legal troubles and also of his appeal. Hus used precise legal terminology to explain that he failed to appear before the judge (contumacia) not out of pride (contemptus), as he had been accused.102 Hus reasoned that it would have been too dangerous for him to undertake the trip to Rome back in 1410 when summoned. Two of his university colleagues, Stanislav of Znojmo and Stephen of Páleč, did try to appear before the curia in Rome two years previously, in order to clear themselves of charges of Wycliffite heresy. But they made it only as far as Bologna, where they were robbed, imprisoned, and generally mistreated as if they were the “worst of criminals.”103 Given what had happened to these two masters, Hus judged that he would have been in danger as well. Hus also argued that the trip had become unnecessary, because he and the archbishop had long ago officially reconciled. Hus was telling the truth, although he did not mention that the king had coerced the archbishop into the reconciliation, in order to claim that his realm was free of heretics. Overall, Hus argued, the legal case against him was riddled with holes, and the proper legal procedure had not been observed: the court denied him impartial judges and witnesses and chose a location for the proceedings that was inaccessible.104
The real reason behind his persecution was, Hus argued, a personal vendetta by Michael de Causis, a compatriot and one of his longtime enemies, who was leading the prosecution again him. Hus describes himself as oppressed by unjust excommunication (“per excomunicacionem pretensam oppresso”), instigated by his enemy and accuser Michael de Causis (“per instigatorem et adversarium meum”). Not only had he not received a fair hearing, the court, taking advice from de Causis, had also rejected any testimony of extenuating circumstances. They refused the notarized and sealed testimonies of university representatives.105 De Causis delayed the proceedings when it suited the prosecution and refused to hear Hus’s witnesses. In Hus’s view, the charges brought against him were based on personal hatred rather than proper legal procedure, an allegation that fits with his self-presentation as an innocent victim, akin to Christ.
The
