That there was, however, the most pressing need of a reform in the lives of both higher and lower clergy is proved by a glance at the state of the priesthood. The position of the lower clergy, in comparison with that of their betters “who rolled in riches and luxury,” was one not in keeping with the dignity of their state. “Apart from the often very precarious tithes and stole-fees they had no stipend, so that their poverty, and sometimes also their avarice, obliged them to turn to other means of livelihood, which ... necessarily exposed them to the contempt of the people. There can be no doubt that ‘a very large portion of the lower clergy had fallen so far from the ideal of their calling, that one may speak of the priestly proletariat of that day, using the word in both its ordinary and its literal sense.’ This clerical proletariat was ready to join any movement which promised to promote its own low aims.”
The number of clergy, largely owing to the excessive multiplication of small foundations without any cure of souls, had increased to such an extent that among so many there must necessarily have been a very large number who had no real vocation, while their lack of employment must have spelt a real danger to their morals. Attached to two churches at Breslau at the end of the fifteenth century were 236 clerics, all of them mere Mass-priests, i.e. ordained simply to say Mass in the chantry chapels founded with very small endowments. Besides the daily celebration, these Mass-priests had as their only obligation the recital of the Breviary. In the Cathedral at Meissen there were, in 1480, besides 14 canons, 14 Mass-priests and 60 curates. In Strasburg the Cathedral foundation comprised 36 canonries, that of St. Thomas 20, Old St. Peter’s 17, New St. Peter’s 15 and All Saints’ 12. In addition to these were also numerous deputies who were prepared to officiate at High Mass in place of the actual beneficiaries. Of such deputies there were no fewer than 63 attached to the Cathedral, where there were also 38 chaplaincies. In Cologne Johann Agricola gives the number of “priests and monks” (though he adds “so it is said”) as 5000; on another occasion he estimates the number of monks and nuns only, at 5000. What is certain is that the “German Rome” on the Rhine numbered at that time 11 collegiate foundations, 19 parish churches, over 100 chapels, 22 monasteries, 12 hospitals and 76 religious houses.
The above-mentioned Bishop of Chiemsee attributes the corruption of the priesthood principally to the misuse by clergy and laity of their right of patronage both in nominations and by arbitrary interference. Geiler of Kaysersberg is of the same opinion; he attributes to the laity, more particularly to the patrons among the nobility, the sad condition of the parishes. Uneducated, bad, immoral men were now presented, he says, not the good and virtuous. Cardinal Nicholas of Cusa, who did so much service to Germany, had declared quite openly the cause of the deformation of the clerical system to be the admission to Holy Orders of unworthy candidates, the concubinage of the clergy, plurality of benefices, and simony. Towards the end of the fifteenth century the complaints increased, more especially with regard to the immorality of the clergy. “The numerous regulations of bishops and synods leave no doubt about the fact that a large portion of the German clergy transgressed the law of celibacy in the most flagrant manner.” A statement which was presented to the Dukes of Bavaria in 1477 declared that in the opinion of many friends and advocates of a healthy reform, an improvement in the morals of the clergy, where the real cause of all the Church’s evils lay, must be taken in hand. It is true there were districts where a blameless and praiseworthy clergy worked, as, for example, the Rhine-Lands, Schleswig-Holstein and the Algäu. On the other hand, in Saxony, Luther’s home, and in Franconia and Bavaria great disorders were reported in this respect. The “De ruina ecclesiæ,” an earlier work, attributed to Nicholas of Clémanges, tells us of bishops in the commencement of the fifteenth century who, in consideration of a money payment, permitted concubinage to their clergy, and Hefele’s “History of the Councils” gives numerous synodical decrees of that date forbidding the bishops to accept money or presents in return for permitting or conniving at concubinage.
Along with concubinage many of the higher clergy displayed a luxury and a spirit of haughty pride which repelled the people, especially the more independent burghers. Members of the less fortunate clergy gave themselves up to striving after gain by pressing for their tithes and fees and rents, a tendency which was encouraged both in high and low by the excessive demands made by Rome. Worthless so-called courtisans, i.e. clerks furnished with briefs from the Papal Court (corte), seized upon the best benefices and gave an infectious example of greed, while at the same time their action helped to add fuel to the prejudice and hatred already existing for the Curia.
Innumerable were the causes of friction in the domain of worldly interests which gave rise to strife and enmity between laity and clergy. Laymen saw with displeasure how the most influential and laborious posts were filled, not by the beneficiaries themselves, but by incapable representatives, while the actual incumbents resided elsewhere in comfortable ease and leisure at the expense of the old foundations endowed by the laity. On the other hand, the churches and monasteries complained of the rights appropriated or misused by the princes and nobility, an abuse which often led to the monasteries serving as homes for worn-out officials, or to the vexatious seizure and retention of the estates of deceased priests or abbots. It is clear that such a self-seeking policy on the part of the powerful naturally resulted in the most serious evils and abuses in Church matters, quite apart from the bad feeling thus aroused between the clerical and lay elements of the State.
The richer monasteries in particular had to submit to becoming the preserves of the nobles, who made it their practice to provide in this way for the younger scions of their family, and for that reason sought to prevent members of the middle classes being admitted to profession. The efforts to reform lax monasteries, which are often met with about the close of the Middle Ages, were frequently stifled by these and similar worldly influences.
In the disintegration of ecclesiastical order, the power and influence of the rulers of the land with regard to Church matters was, as might be expected, constantly on the increase.
Many German princes, influenced by the ideas with regard to the dignity of the State which came into such vogue in the fifteenth century, and dissatisfied with the concessions already made to them by the Church, arrogated still further privileges, for example, the taxation of Church lands, the restriction of ecclesiastical jurisdiction, the so-called Government Placet and an oppressive right of visiting and supervising the parishes within their territories. There had thus grown up in many districts a system of secular interference in Church matters long before the religious apostasy of the sixteenth century resulted in the total submission of the Church to the Protestant princes of the land. The Catholic ruler recognised in principle the doctrines and rights of the Church. What, however, was to happen if rulers, equipped with such twofold authority, altered their attitude to the Church on the outbreak of the schism? Their fidelity was in many cases already put to a severe test by the disorders of the clergy, which were doing harm to their country and which Rome made no attempt to suppress. The ecclesiastico-political complaints of the princes (the famous Gravamina) against Rome are proofs of their annoyance; for these charges, as Dr. Eck pointed out, were for the most part well founded; Eck’s opinion was shared by other authorities, such as Bertold von Henneberg, Wimpfeling, Duke George of Saxony, and Aleander the Papal Nuncio, who all express themselves in the same manner regarding the financial grievances against Rome, which were felt in Germany throughout all ranks and classes down to the meanest individual.
“On account of these and other causes the irritation and opposition to the Holy See had, on the eve of the great German schism, reached boiling point; this vexation is explained, as the ‘Gravamina nationis Germanicæ’ clearly prove, by the disorders of the Curia, and still more by its unceasing demands.” “That the smouldering discontent broke into open flame was the doing of those scoffers without faith or conscience, such as the H
umanists, who persisted in pouring on the fire the oil of their sophistries.” The Catholic historian from whom these words are borrowed rightly draws attention to the “mistaken policy” entered on by Luther’s followers when they attacked the hierarchical order on account of the disorders rampant in the life and administration of the Church. The success of their “mistaken policy” was a “speaking proof of the coarseness, blindness and passion of the German people at that time,” but in its practical results their policy helped to bring about an ever-to-be-regretted alteration and to open a yawning chasm which still exists to-day. “That the vexation was not altogether without cause no honest historian can deny, whatever his enthusiasm for the Catholic Church,” for “the action of Churchmen, whether belonging to the hierarchy or to the regular or secular clergy, cannot be misunderstood. Throughout the whole of Christendom, and particularly in Germany, the general state of things was deplorable.... Even though the evils of the waning Middle Ages may have been, and still continue to be, grossly exaggerated by Protestants, and though in the fifteenth century we see many cheering examples and some partially successful attempts at reform, yet there still remains enough foulness to account psychologically for the falling away.”
And yet the disorders in matters ecclesiastical in Germany would not have entailed the sad consequences they did had they not been accompanied by a great number of social evils, especially the intense discontent of the lower classes with their position and a hostile jealousy of the laity against the privileges and possessions of the clergy. Savage outbreaks of rebellion against the old traditional order of things were of frequent occurrence. In many localities the peasants were in arms against their princes and masters for the improvement of their conditions; the knights and the nobility, to say nothing of the cities, gave themselves up to the spirit of aggrandisement referred to above. It was just this spirit of unrest and discontent of which the coming mighty movement of intellectual and religious reform was to avail itself.
If we look more closely at Italy and Rome we find that in Italy, which comprised within its limits the seat of the supreme authority in the Church and of which the influence on civilisation everywhere was so important, complete religious indifference had taken root among many of the most highly cultured. The Renaissance, the famed classic regeneration, had undergone a change for the worse, and, in the name of education, was promoting the most questionable tendencies. After having been welcomed and encouraged by the Papacy with over-great confidence it disappointed both the Popes and the Church with its poisonous fruits.
At the time that the Holy See was lavishing princely gifts on art and learning, the pernicious system of Church taxation so often complained of by the nations was becoming more and more firmly established. This taxation, which had started at the time of the residence of the Popes at Avignon in consequence of the real state of need in which the central government of the Church then stood, became more and more an oppressive burden, especially in Germany. It was exploited by Luther in one of his earliest controversial writings where, voicing the popular discontent in that spiteful language of which he was a master, he joined his protest to that of the German Estates of the realm. Combining truth and fancy, the administration of the Papal finances became in his hands a popular and terribly effective weapon. It has frequently been pointed out how much the authority of the Holy See suffered in the preceding age, not only on account of the Western Schism when three rival claimants simultaneously strove for the tiara, but also through the so-called reforming councils and their opposition to the constitution of the Church, through the political mistakes of the Popes since they established their headquarters in France, through the struggle they waged to assert their power in Italy, that apple of discord of rising nations, and also, in the case of the Avignon Popes, through their lack, or, at any rate, suspected lack, of independence. To this we must add the shocking behaviour of the Curial officials and of several of the cardinals in the Eternal City, especially at the turn of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, also the disgraceful example of Alexander VI and the Borgia family, the bearing of his successor Julius II, more befitting a soldier than an ecclesiastic, and the very worldly spirit of Leo X and his Court. Ostentation and the abuse of worldly possessions and Church revenues which Alvarez Pelayo, the Spanish Franciscan, had already bewailed in his “De planctu ecclesiæ” had risen to still greater heights at Rome. The work of this severe critic, who, in spite of his fault-finding, was nevertheless well disposed to the Curia, was in general circulation just previous to Luther’s appearance on the field; it was several times reprinted, for instance, at Ulm in 1474, and again at Lyons in 1517, with a dedication to the later Pope Hadrian VI. It is there we find the indignant assertion, that those who bear the dignity of the primacy are God’s worst persecutors. In the work “De squaloribus Romanæ curiæ” various well-founded complaints were adduced, together with much that was incorrect and exaggerated. The book “De ruina ecclesiæ” (see above, ) contained accusations against the Popes and the government of the Church couched in rude and violent language, and these too gained new and stronger significance at the end of the fifteenth and commencement of the sixteenth century. We actually read therein that the number of the righteous in the Church is diminutive compared with that of the wicked.
There is no doubt that the state of things, so far as it was known from the above-mentioned books, or from observation or rumour, was busily and impatiently discussed in the company frequented by Luther at the University of Wittenberg. What Luther had himself seen at Rome must have still further contributed to increase the bitterness among his friends.
When the Monk of Wittenberg openly commenced his attacks on the Papacy, it became apparent how far the disorders just alluded to had prepared the way for his plans. It was clear that all the currents adverse to the Papacy were, so to speak, waiting for the coming of one man, who should unchain them with his powerful hand. Amongst those who hitherto had been faithful adherents of the Church, Luther found combustible material — social, moral and political — heaped up so high that a stunning result was not surprising. Had there arisen a saint like St. Bernard, on whose words the world of the Middle Ages had hung, with the Divine gift of teaching and writing as the times demanded, who can say what course events would have taken? But Luther arrived on the scene with his terrible, mighty voice, pressed all the elements of the storm into his service, and, launching a defiance of which the world had never before heard the like, succeeded in winning an immense success for the standard he had raised.
Luther from the very outset of his career was too liberal in his blame of the customs and conditions in the Church which happened to meet with his disapproval.
Scarcely had he finished his course of studies as a learner than he already began to wax eloquent against various abuses. In his characteristic love of exaggeration of language he did not fear to use the sharpest epithets, nor to magnify the evil, whether in his academic lectures or in the pulpit, or in his letters and writings. He wrote, for instance, to Spalatin in 1516 to dissuade the Elector of Saxony, Frederick the Wise, from promoting Staupitz to a bishopric: he who becomes a bishop in these days falls into the most evil of company, all the wickedness of Greece, Rome and Sodom were to be found in the bishops; Spalatin should compare the carryings-on of the present bishops with those of the bishops of Christian antiquity; now a pastor of souls was considered quite exemplary if he merely pursued his worldly business and built up for himself with his riches an insatiable hell.
In his first lectures at Wittenberg he complains that “neither monasteries nor colleges, nor Cathedral churches will in any sort accept discipline.” The clergy, he says, in another place, generalising after the fashion common among preachers, should be the eyes of the Church, but to-day they do not direct the body, i.e. the Faithful, for they are blinded: they are the soul, but they do not give life, but rather kill by their deadly example; about nothing do they trouble less than about souls. In similar language he, in these lectures,
represents the bishops and priests as simply “full of the most abominable unchastity”; according to him, they bring to the pulpit nothing but “their views and fables, nothing but masquerading and buffoonery,” so that the Church can do nothing but cry aloud over the misery in which it is sunk. “The strength of her youth has forsaken her.”
One of the earliest portions of Luther’s correspondence which has been preserved and which takes us back to his little world at Wittenberg, throws a clearer light on his character at that time. It deals with an unpleasant dispute with his brother monks at Erfurt, which he became involved in owing to his having taken his doctorate at Wittenberg instead of at Erfurt. The Erfurt monastery reproached him with a serious infringement of the rules and disrespect for the Theological Faculty there; he had, they said, entered the teaching Corporation of Erfurt in virtue of the oath which he had taken in the customary manner on his appointment as Sententiarius, and was therefore under strict obligation to take his degree of Doctor in this Faculty and not elsewhere. Other unknown charges were also made against him, but were speedily withdrawn. It is highly probable that the tension between Observantines and Conventuals increased the misunderstanding.
Nathin, the Erfurt Augustinian, first wrote a rather tactless letter to Luther about it all, as it would appear in the name of the council of the monastery. Luther was extremely angry and allowed his excitement free play. He first expresses his surprise in two letters to the Prior and the council, and was about to despatch a third when he learnt that the accusations against him, with the exception of that regarding his doctorate, had been withdrawn. While Nathin’s letter and also the two passionate replies of the young Doctor have been lost, two other letters of the latter regarding the matter exist, and are professedly letters of excuse. The first is in reality nothing of the kind, but rather the opposite. In this letter, dated June 16, 1514, and addressed to the Prior and the council, Luther to begin with complains vehemently of the evil reports against his person which, according to his information, some of those he was addressing at Erfurt had circulated previously. Nathin’s letter had, however, been the last straw. “This letter,” he says, which was written in the name of all, angered him so much with its lies and its provoking, poisonous scorn, that “I had almost poured out the vials of my wrath and indignation on his head and the whole monastery, as Master Paltz did.” They had probably received the two “amazed replies”; as however the other charges had been withdrawn, he would hold the majority of those he was addressing as excused; they must now, on their part, forget any hurt they had felt at his previous replies; “Lay all that I have done,” these are his words, “to the account of the furious epistle of Master Nathin, for my anger was only too well justified. Now, however, I hear still worse things of this man, viz. that he accuses me everywhere of being a dishonourable perjurer on account of the oath to the Faculty which I am supposed to have taken and not kept.” He goes on to explain that he had been guilty of no such crime, for the Biblical lectures at the commencement of which he was supposed to have taken the oath, and at which, it is true, in accordance with the customs of the University, such an oath was generally taken, had not been begun by him at Erfurt; at his opening lecture on the Sentences in that town he had, so far as he remembers, taken no oath, nor could he recall having ever taken any oath in the Faculty at Erfurt. He closes with an expression of respect and gratitude to the Erfurt Faculty. Though he was the injured party, he was calm and contented and joyful, for he had deserved much worse of God: they too should lay their bitterness aside, “as God has clearly willed my departure (excorporatio) from Erfurt, and we must not withstand God.” This letter and Luther’s previous steps cannot be regarded as giving proof of a harmoniously attuned disposition. He may have been in the right in the matter of the oath, a question of which it is difficult to judge. It was not, however, very surprising that the Erfurt monks took steps to force Luther to make more satisfactory amends to the Faculty than the strange letter of excuse given above. It is plain that under pressure of some higher authority invoked by them, a second letter, this time of more correct character, was despatched by the Wittenberg Doctor. In judging of this academic dispute, we must bear in mind the store that was set in those days on University traditions.
Collected Works of Martin Luther Page 578
