Theologian and reformer John Wycliffe never had the opportunity to take his doctrines outside of his native England, but he could never have imagined that his teachings would one day travel as far as 920 miles east to Bohemia. In fact, while his contentious convictions aroused much ado at home, receiving both praise and contempt from followers and ecclesiastical figures, his messages would be far more resonant across the Channel than they ever were back home.

The revival of Wycliffe's ideas, many believe, was ignited by receptive Bohemian students who were introduced to the reformer's works at Oxford University and became so moved by his thoughts that they felt it absolutely imperative to spread the good word in their own kingdoms. Questioning Christians quietly perused compilations of Wycliffe's books and were, at the very least, intrigued by the nonconformist's opinions.

In the mid-14th century, the Vatican called upon England and sought financial aid in the hopes of boosting papal defenses against French forces. It was then that Wycliffe boldly stepped forth and appealed to the John of Gaunt, urging the Duke of Lancaster and Parliament to repudiate Rome's demands and citing what he believed to be the Church's abundance in wealth. According to Wycliffe, Christ's disciples, particularly clergymen, must aspire to live modestly and shun all material pleasures. Such was the word of the Lord.

Despite the growing tensions between Wycliffe and the Catholic Church, he was invited to partake in a religious committee that aimed to find solutions for the apparent failings of the institution in 1374, but progress was slow, impeded by the corruption of the priests who readily accepted bribes and immoral incentives. Wycliffe, on the contrary, was equipped with a cast-iron will and refused to cave in to temptation. His strength of character earned him the approbation of the Duke and members of Parliament. The same could not be said about his fellow clergymen.

Wycliffe's relentless criticism of the Church only continued to escalate, and eventually he was summoned to London and charged with the unforgivable crime of heresy. To the dismay of his detractors, the hearing was anything but black and white, and heated verbal exchanges soon spiraled into physical altercations. This resulted in a temporary deadlock that was broken only three months later when Pope Gregory XI published five papal bulls that unequivocally banned all of Wycliffe's teachings and found the heretic, dubbed the “master of errors”, guilty of 18 counts of heresy. The end, it appeared, was nigh, but Wycliffe remained unfazed, declaring, “I profess and claim to be by the grace of God a sound...Christian and while there is breath in my body, I will speak forth and defend the law of it”. Wycliffe told the archbishop at Lambeth Palace, “I am ready to defend my convictions even unto death...I have followed the Sacred Scripture and the holy doctors”.

While Wycliffe's critics rejoiced at the news of his demise, they soon discovered that his influence was far more difficult to extinguish than they initially anticipated. In 1427, a whole 43 years after Wycliffe's passing, his corpse was exhumed by local authorities and cremated, and the ashes were dumped into the River Swift, but Wycliffe's indelible ideas had taken on a life of their own, and they would be championed by Hus. The 17th century historian Thomas Fuller poetically described the ripple effect: “Thus the brook hath conveyed his ashes into Avon; Avon into Severn; Severn into the narrow seas; and they into the main ocean. And thus the ashes of Wycliffe are the emblem of his doctrine which now is dispersed the world over”.