The Goose Who Prophesied the Swan
In the century before the Great Reformation, a voice cried out from the Kingdom of Bohemia that would shake the very foundations of ecclesiastical tyranny. John Huss (Jan Hus), a humble priest and dean of philosophy at the University of Prague, became a beacon of light in a dark age of spiritual corruption. His life was defined by a singular, unyielding conviction: that no man, no council, and no pope stands above the Holy Scriptures.
The Standard of Biblical Supremacy
Huss lived in an era where the church had become a political machine, selling “forgiveness” for silver and gold. While the religious elite sought to consolidate power, Huss retreated to the Word of God. He preached in the common tongue of the people at Bethlehem Chapel, declaring that the Bible is the only infallible rule of faith and practice. He recognized that to follow a man-made system over the commands of Christ was a form of spiritual treason. His life echoed the firm command found in Acts 5:29:
“Then Peter and the other apostles answered and said, We ought to obey God rather than men.”
The Treachery of the World
In 1414, Huss was summoned to the Council of Constance to defend his teachings. Though he was promised “safe conduct” by the Emperor Sigismund—a royal guarantee of protection—the promise was a hollow lie. Upon his arrival, he was cast into a foul dungeon near a sewer, where he languished in sickness for months. The religious authorities demanded a total recantation of his “heresies.”
Huss, however, would not trade the Truth for his life. He stood before his accusers and declared that he would gladly recant if they could prove his errors using the Scriptures, but he would not bow to the mere traditions of men. He understood the warning of Colossians 2:8:
“Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ.”
The Prophecy of the Pyre
On July 6, 1415, John Huss was led to the stake. They stripped him of his priestly robes and placed a tall paper hat on his head painted with three devils, labeling him a “heresiarch.” As the wood was piled around his chin, the imperial marshal gave him one last chance to save himself. Huss replied with a voice of thunder: “God is my witness that… in the truth of the Gospel which I have written, taught, and preached, I will today joyfully die.”
It is said that as the flames began to lick at his flesh, Huss made a final prophetic declaration. Referring to his own name (which in the Bohemian tongue means “Goose”), he cried out: “Today you are roasting a goose, but in a hundred years, a swan will arise whose singing you shall not be able to silence.” True to his word, almost exactly one hundred years later, Martin Luther posted his theses in Wittenberg, carrying the torch that Huss had lit with his own life. Huss was not consumed by the fire; he was refined by it, leaving behind a legacy of uncompromising mission and a defense of the Truth that resonates to this day.