Huldrych Zwingli (1484–1531) is sometimes called “the forgotten man of the Reformation” since he is overshadowed by Martin Luther and John Calvin. Bruce Gordon's meticulously documented and engagingly written biography makes Zwingli much more memorable when we see and understand his personality, the full range of his activities, and his deep theological commitments. Gordon gives us a clear-eyed picture of the Zurich reformer, set in the context of his times and the problems he faced. What emerges is a complex man, thoroughly committed to his understanding of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, which he sought to enact in church and society in robust and comprehensive ways. Gordon captures Zwingli when he writes that he was “a man who never created his own reality. Zwingli was a powerful, charismatic and flawed character who unleashed a revolution which he then struggled to lead” (4).
Zwingli's youth in an Alpine village in the shadow of a mountain range helped instill a love of nature and a sense of God as “a benevolent, providential deity” (13). His aptitude enabled Zwingli to distinguish himself at the University of Vienna and at Basel where he attained a Bachelor of Arts degree. In 1506, he was ordained a priest and was diligent in his duties at Glarus. He built his library and became devoted to the program of the Humanists and work of Erasmus. In 1516, he departed from Glarus to the Benedictine abbey at Einsiedeln where he assumed pastoral duties. But he also availed himself of the abbey library and came fully to embrace “the Erasmian vision of devoting himself to the study of scripture and the most ancient witnesses of the faith” (40). Presently, Zwingli “clearly had a form of conversion experience that led him to a realization that scripture was the only true authority for the Christian life” (40–41).
Zwingli acknowledged he was sexually active during this time, claiming always to have been discreet. But he and the daughter of a barber had a child. When she learned she was pregnant, the mother moved to Zurich. Stories of Zwingli's relationships persisted, especially while he was being considered to become a priest in Zurich (42).
In December 1518, Zwingli was elected as “people's priest” (Leutpriester) at the Grossmünster, Zurich's most prominent ecclesiastical foundation (49). There, Zwingli's preaching attacked the morals of the clergy, religious houses, and mercenary service and pensions, threatening “many in the higher echelons of Zurich society” (53). Gordon notes that “while we have no evidence that Martin Luther influenced Zwingli directly,” Zwingli certainly saw Luther as “a supporter of the humanist vision of church reform.” When Luther was threatened with excommunication, Zwingli was “now persuaded that Rome was the enemy of reform. And if Rome persecuted Luther, might he be next?” (59). Complicating factors were that “Rome needed Zurich's military support, but it also wanted to be rid of Zwingli, whose preaching was increasingly becoming an irritant” (62).
The famous incident of the group, including Zwingli, who met on March 9, 1522, at the house of the printer, Froschauer, and “sat down to a meal of sausages in Lent” changed the reform cause (63). This was, says Gordon, “a well-staged provocation, intended to turn Zwingli's preaching into action by flaunting unbiblical practices. It did not matter whether Zwingli ate the sausages or not: he was fully complicit, encouraging the breaking of the Lenten fast” (63).
Zwingli secretly married in early 1522, began to preach through biblical books, and prophetically warned of divine judgment, the peril of foreign alliances for the Swiss (70), and sought the “banishment of mercenary service and pensions” as “essential to the renewal of the whole of society” (71). Zwingli saw the reform movement as “following Christ, not any man” (85) and gained the reputation as a heretic across Swiss lands and beyond.
Yet Zwingli had supporters among the clergy and laity of the city. The Zurich Council was persuaded to have a debate on the issues with the Bible to be the sole standard for the judgment of truth. The First Zurich Disputation took place on January 29, 1523. Zwingli was the only speaker, his 67 Articles summarized his preaching. Thus, “the Catholic party had no chance” (91) for “Zwingli had persuaded the rulers of Zurich to take religion into their own hands . . . interpreting the Bible alone” (92). The final break with the Catholic Church, says Gordon, was when Zurich “purged its churches; the abolition of the mass was a delayed consequence” (134). Reformed liturgy was introduced at Easter 1525 (145).
Many struggles took shape through the Reformation era in Zurich. Theological strivings over the sacraments emerged as Zwingli developed his distinctive theological emphases through his writings. These led to conflicts with fellow Reformed colleagues such as Bucer and Calvin. Most dramatic, however, was the debate with Luther over the question of the real presence in the Lord's Supper—climaxed in the confrontation at Marburg in 1529 (172–181).
On political issues, “Zwingli's instincts were for peace and negotiation, but he was also clear that the gospel must not be impeded by the agents of Christ” (218). In his last years, Zwingli insisted gospel preaching “be introduced in all the Catholic lands” (246). Unable to enlist help from Bern, “Zwingli preached war to stiffen the resolve of the city” (247). In the second battle of Kappel, the Zurichers were outnumbered by the Catholics and suffered casualties, including Zwingli who was dressed in armor with the troops. As he lay dying, he was run through with a sword. His last words were reputedly: “You may kill the body but you cannot kill the soul” (248).
Zwingli had “embraced power and force, believing it God's will” (254). Zwingli was “a visionary of what became Reformed Christianity” (302). Gordon richly textured study also explores Zwingli's legacy. He concludes by saying Zwingli was “neither hero nor martyr. We must see him for what he was—an embattled prophet” (302).
