A notable evidence of the reflorescence of theological scholarship among British evangelicals is the launching of a new publishing venture by a young Anglican layman, Mr. Gervase E. Duffield—no light undertaking in these days of high costs and fierce competition! But Mr. Duffield is nothing if not determined and energetic, and, with the support of a distinguished panel of theologians, he has got off to a flying start. Under the imprint of the Marcham Manor Press a number of paperbacks have already appeared in which contemporary ecclesiastical and ecumenical issues are effectively and intelligently discussed. And there will be more to follow. Under the imprint of the Sutton Courtenay Press an ambitious scheme for the publication of new works on the Reformers and their successors and for the republication of important Reformation classics is now in hand. The Work of William Tyndale, the first volume in the series, has met with the approbation of reviewers in both religious and secular journals. The second (of which I shall have more to say in a moment) is devoted to the writings of Archbishop Cranmer, and other volumes now in preparation will be concerned with the Anglican Homilies, Martin Bucer, John Calvin, and the Zurich Letters of the Reformers.

The Work of Thomas Cranmer is ably edited by Mr. Duffield and is adorned with an admirably instructive introductory essay on Cranmer’s theology by Dr. J. I. Packer. The appraisal of Cranmer as a theologian of the first rank is long overdue; it has become a settled custom to depict him as drawn along in the theological wake of Bishop Ridley. The writings of the two men, both of them fine scholars, are there for us to study, and it has always seemed to me that Cranmer stands a head above Ridley as a mature and weighty thinker (though it must in fairness be said that Ridley’s literary output, in comparison with Cranmer’s, was disappointingly meager). In any case, Cranmer was the magisterial architect of the Book of Common Prayer, which is still unmatched in the field of scriptural worship, and, as Dr. Packer observes, this in itself “is indirect testimony to his strength as a theologian, for creative liturgical work only succeeds when the liturgist knows exactly what theological content should go into each service.… If Cranmer’s services pass muster as masterpieces of Christian worship, there is at least a presumption that the theology behind them is also in the master class.”

By natural inclination Cranmer was the careful student. The exacting demands of precise and painstaking scholarship were never uncongenial to him. His library was the envy not only of fellow scholars but even of universities, containing as it did the great works of all the ages, classical, patristic, and contemporary. Unfortunately, the library was dispersed after his martyrdom and there is no exhaustive inventory of its contents. Some 450 works which are known to have belonged to it are still extant today. The catalogue included in the volume before us is an interesting feature, especially as the volumes in it were for use, not for show. Not only was he a tireless reader; it was also his practice to mark the books as he read them. It was upon this foundation of solid learning that he built and reached the assurance of his convictions. Thus, in disputing with his opponent Gardiner, he was able to say: “I, having exercised myself in the study of Scripture and divinity from my youth (whereof I give most hearty lauds and thanks to God), have learned now to go alone, and do examine, judge, and write all such weighty matters myself; although, I thank God, I am neither so arrogant nor so wilful that I will refuse the good advice, counsel, and admonition of any man, be he man or master, friend or foe.”

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Of the works of Cranmer contained in this present volume, the longest and the most important is his Defence of the True and Catholic Doctrine of the Sacrament. It is a composition of epoch-making significance for the Church of England. Also of special interest, as it relates to another crucial landmark in English religious history, is his Preface to the Great Bible of 1540, which by royal injunction had been set up in every parish church of the land.

The worth of this volume is enhanced by the inclusion of a selection of Cranmer’s letters. Of these, the ones addressed to leaders of the Reformed churches on the Continent show him impressively taking the lead in the role of ecumenical statesman. Indeed, one of Cranmer’s most cherished projects was his scheme for convening a council of the best theological minds of the day for the purpose of hammering out an agreed statement on all the main points of Christian doctrine—and especially the doctrine of the Eucharist, over which Lutherans and Calvinists were seriously divided—thereby ensuring fruitful harmony among the churches in their own day and for the generations to come. Calvin responded that he would not shrink from crossing ten seas, if need be, for the fulfillment of this grand objective.

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But it was not to be; for Mary came to the throne and Cranmer and other leaders of the Reformation in England suffered martyrdom. Thomas Cranmer may still speak to us, however, in this ecumenical age in which we live—if we will only listen—and remind us not merely that unity is of high value but also that Christian harmony can never be purchased at the expense of truth. And so we must labor and pray for unity; we must plan and confer, and show a spirit of loving and candid openness to those who differ from us theologically and liturgically; but rather than compromise or be turned aside from the pure Gospel of Jesus Christ we must, like Thomas Cranmer, be willing even to lay down our lives.

There are three portraits of Cranmer in this volume. The first is a contemporary likeness by the German artist Gerlach Flicke, who died in London in 1558, two years after Cranmer was martyred. The second, by an unknown artist, would seem to have been painted early in the seventeenth century, the likeness probably being taken from the face mask first engraved for Beza’s Icones in 1581. The third portrait, believed till recently to be genuine, was examined by X-ray at the National Portrait Gallery last year and shown to be a forgery. The original portrait was quite clearly that of a Roman Catholic cardinal dating from about 1570, and some considerable time later it was altered into a likeness of Cranmer. Indeed, subsequent investigation has indicated that the cardinal portrayed was none other than a Spanish Grand Inquisitor! That he should thus have been transformed may certainly be regarded as one of the ironies of history, and there would seem to be an invitation here to drive home a homiletic lesson by drawing a parable from this portrait—but just what lesson would depend on one’s attitude to the Reformation! There is a story in the New Testament of a persecutor’s being transformed into an apostle. It may at least be agreed that there is every possibility that Cranmer, had he not been won to the Protestant cause, would have been raised to the cardinal’s eminence.

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