The city walls of Geneva appeared cold and imposing as a horseman approached the city gate. Astride a magnificent white horse sat a man with a long, reddish-brown beard. His rugged face and arms indicated him having spent many nights in the open air. He looked and dressed like a soldier and rode his horse like a conqueror. Indeed, this man was! William Farel had come to proclaim the Light of the World to a city locked in darkness and superstition.

In 1532, Geneva was not yet the great Protestant stronghold that it would one day become. Surrounded by France, Italy, and Switzerland, and located by a tranquil mountain lake bearing the same name as the town, Geneva was considered a prize to anyone who could control it. In the early 1500s, the city was in the very midst of a political revolution.

For decades, the people of Geneva had been at the center of a political battle. The profligate, immoral Bishop of Geneva had wearied the people with his vices and crimes. The Dukes of Savoy had long set their eyes upon this city, hoping to add it to their dominions. The Lords of Berne had also set their sights on it, hoping to make the free city a part of their canton in the Swiss confederation.

But William Farel, the man with the reddish-brown beard and astride his magnificent horse, had come to conquer this city. He came conquering not for France, not for Italy, and not for Switzerland. Farel had come to conquer the city for his Lord and Master, Jesus Christ!

Entering Geneva on his horse, Farel immediately attracted attention. The people of Geneva had heard his name. Was not this the man who had preached without license in Neuchâtel, in Orbe, and in Morat? Was not this the man who had overturned popery, smashed idols, and ended the mass? Was not this the man who was called “the scourge of the priests?”

Farel was a preacher, yet he did not wear a preacher’s garb. Instead of the black robe of the preacher, he wore a style of dress such as a soldier would have worn. Soon, it was widely known in the city of Geneva that “the scourge of the priests” had come. A nun who lived in the convent of St. Claire wrote in her diary, “A shabby little preacher, one Master William, has just arrived in the city.”

The morning after his arrival in Geneva, William Farel was already preaching on the porch of the public inn. Similar to Elijah in the Old Testament and John the Baptist in the New Testament, Farel was a voice calling men out of darkness and into light.

A crowd gathered in the streets to listen to his message. At this time in history, the people of Geneva were among the most immoral and ungovernable in Europe. The theaters were filled with corrupt stage plays. Brothels and ale houses occupied the city. Church attendance was down, and the priests were held in contempt for their openly immoral lives. Adultery was rampant, sin was flaunted, and riots and orgies were common. The people of Geneva were in the midst of a struggle for political liberty, but they were in bondage to lust and sin.

Farel’s message surprised the men and women who gathered to hear him. They expected him to preach against the mass, to rail against the Pope, and to free them from the Duke of Savoy. But Farel preached a different message. He had come to free them from sin and darkness, pointing the people of Geneva to the Light of the World.

Weeks passed. One by one, Farel began to gain eager listeners. One of the first converts was a cap-maker named Guérin. A few of the city magistrates along with their wives were also converted by the saving power of Christ. But opposition also arose. The priests of the city demanded that Farel be thrown out of town as a public enemy and a preacher of heresy.

A public disputation (oral defense) was announced where Farel and two other preachers would be heard before the assembled city council. Farel and two of his friends, Anthony Saunier and Robert Olivetan, were brought to the council. Arrayed against them was a large company of priests. The vicar sat on the platform, wearing his robes of office.

As the disputation began, the chief spokesman of the priests rose and challenged Farel: “William Farel, tell me who has sent you to Geneva, and for what reason are you come here?”

Farel answered, “God sent me, and I am come to preach His Word.”

This answer put the spokesman into a rage. He began to fume against Farel, calling him a “poor wretch, an imposter, a scoundrel,” and a “devil.”

When the long diatribe had subsided, Farel answered calmly and boldly, “My lords, I am not a devil. If I journey to and fro, it is that I may preach Jesus Christ. What I have preached, and still preach, is the truth. It is not heresy, and I will maintain it even unto death. And as for what you say about my disturbing the land, and this city in particular, I will answer as Elijah did to Ahab, ‘I have not troubled Israel, but thou and thy father’s house.’ Yes, it is you and yours who trouble the world by your traditions, your human inventions, and your dissolute lives.”

At this response, one of the priests stood up and shouted out, “What further need have we of witnesses? He is guilty of death!”

Farel turned to him and coldly with a half smile of scorn, answered, “Speak the words of God, and not the words of Caiaphas.”

This comment enraged the priests further! Shouts erupted all over the house: “Kill him! Kill the Lutheran hound! To the Rhone!”

Farel and his two friends were mobbed, beaten, kicked, and spit upon. Only with the utmost difficulty some of the magistrates were able to restore order in the assembly. But outside the hall, a hostile and angry mob was gathering. Eighty monks were assembled at the doors of the hall, armed with clubs and other weapons.

The magistrates of the city did their best to protect the preachers, but the mob was infuriated. As Farel walked boldly out of the assembly hall, a servant of the vicar named Francis Olard leveled a musket at Farel. There was instant silence as everyone saw the movement. For a moment, all was still. Farel looked calmly at his attacker, and the young man touched his wick to the pan. There was a flash, but no report as the gun misfired. Farel did not flinch and announced to the astonished crowd, “I am not to be shaken by a pop-gun.”

William Farel was not to be shaken by anything. Taunts, beatings, and even poison failed to kill him, shake him, or drive him away. Farel has been compared to the prophet Elijah for his stalwart courage, his rough dress, his rugged personality, his physical strength, and his bold confidence. Like Elijah and John, he banished darkness and prepared the way for the reception of the light of Christ.

In a day when some are called Lutheran after Martin Luther, Calvinist after John Calvin, and Mennonite after Menno Simmons, it is significant that there has never been a Farelite. When the faithful preacher of the Gospel died at the age of 76, he was buried in an unmarked grave in an obscure churchyard in Switzerland. His tomb today is unknown. Like John the Baptist, he was not that Light, but he was sent to bear witness of that Light.

Sources and Further Reference:

Bevan, Frances. The Life of William Farel. Addison, IL: Bible Truth Publishers, 1975.