Calvin is dead. He died on this date, 445 years ago at the age of 54.
Calvin is the cover on the print version of the July-August issue of Homiletics. This is because 2009 is the quincentennial anniversary of his birth, born as he was on July 9, 1509.
Calvin wasn’t that old when he died, although living to one’s fifties was an achievement in those days. Still, Luther had lived until 62, and Calvin’s good friend, William Farel, was at least 80 when Calvin died. And it’s not like he was active in his last year of life. His last public appearance was in February of 1564. He’d been preaching, when he had a coughing attack so severe he was bringing up blood and couldn’t continue.
His death at the age of 54 might be a cautionary tale for preachers who suffer from Calvin’s affliction: working too hard, too long, under too much pressure, without properly delegating responsibilities while laboring under the misapprehension that your participation in crucial to the success of the cause. He was a driven man, says one writer, an over-achiever, a classic Type A, alpha male if there ever was one.
We know a lot about Calvin’s medical history, because he himself, provides us with considerable details including his intestinal parasites—which often rendered him anemic—and a persistent problem with hemorrhoids—which explains why in later years he didn’t travel so much. In his early life he loved to travel and go horseback riding. Later—not so much. He suffered from gout, which in Calvin’s day was often thought to be a rich man’s affliction—too much red wine, and expensive foods. He’d get kidney stones from time to time and found that he could induce the passage of a stone if he went horseback riding—which presented a medical catch 22: Do I irritate my hemorrhoids or pass the stone? He suffered from persistent pulmonary tuberculosis which caused severe pain in his chest, and he often brought up blood. He also had migraine headaches, so he would fast to get rid of them. His eating habits were irregular. In his later years he was described as a skeleton covered with skin. He probably died of septicemia, or blood poisoning. By all accounts he was lucid until the end, doing some writing, (but never again—after the February episode—preaching from his Genevan pulpit), summoning local pastors and leaders to his house and offering final words of instruction.
So how did this man get anything done at all? Clearly the man needed a good HMO and a personal trainer.
He died almost intestate with only 225 crowns to his name.
On this day, 445 years ago, he remarked on the words of the apostle Paul, “The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to be. . . . . . ,” at which point the Calvin legend, puffed by his successor Theodore Beza in whose arms he died, claims he breathed his last.
The very next day, Calvin was in the ground in a plain coffin in the town cemetery outside of town.
Check out Homiletics, July 5, 2009, for our tribute to Calvin’s life and theology, and be sure to read Travis McMaken’s Preaching Calvin column’s in both the May-June and July-August issue.
