Collected Works of Martin Luther

by Martin Luther

  “Those fools” who do not even know what grace is.... “Who can bear with their blasphemous ideas?” “They do not know what sin or remission of sin is.” “Our theologians see sins only in works, and do not teach us how to change our minds and how to implore grace with humble sighing.... They make proud men, men who after due performance of their works look on themselves as righteous, and seek not to fight against their passions. That is the reason why Confession is of so little use in the Church and why backsliding occurs so frequently.”

  His hatred for theology leads him to make the following false and bitter charges: “The Scholastics teach that it is only necessary to fulfil the law outwardly, in deed, not with the heart; they do not even show how this is to be done, and thus the faithful are left in the impossibility of doing good, because they will never be able to fulfil the commandments unless they do so with the heart. These teachers do not even stretch out a finger towards the fulfilment of the law, I mean, they do not make its fulfilment depend even in the slightest on the heart, but merely on outward acts. Hence they become vain and proud.” An esteemed Protestant historian of dogma, in a recent work, speaks of Luther’s knowledge of Scholasticism as follows:

  “Luther does not appear to have been acquainted with the Schoolmen of the Middle Ages, more especially Thomas of Aquin. About this statement, which Denifle constantly repeats, there seems to me to be no doubt.”

  The Wittenberg Professor makes use of scathing reproofs such as had never before been heard. A good deal of his criticism was justifiable, and he was certainly not wrong in applying it judiciously in his own special domain to much that had hitherto been accepted as true. It is refreshing to those engaged in historical research to note how he cuts himself adrift from the legends of mediæval hagiography, and how he writes on one occasion requesting Spalatin to copy out some particulars for him from Jerome’s book which he might use for a sermon on St. Bartholomew, “for the fables and lies of the ‘Catalogus’ and ‘Legenda aurea’ make my gorge rise.” Criticism of ecclesiastical conditions was also quite permissible when made in the right way and in the proper quarters; examples of such criticism were not wanting among the saintly mediæval reformers, and they might have been acceptable to the authorities of the Church, or, at any rate, could not have been repudiated by them.

  But when Luther is dealing with the faults of the clergy, secular or regular, he looks at everything with a jaundiced eye as being saturated with arrogance, avarice and every vice, and seems to fancy all have become traitors to God’s cause. His love of exaggeration and his want of charity override everything, nor do these faults disappear with advancing years, but become still more marked. Never was there an eye more keen to detect the faults of others, never a tongue more ready to amplify them. And yet he, who does not scruple to support his fierce and passionate denunciations by the coarsest and most unfair generalisations, is himself the first to admit in his Commentary on Romans that: “There are fools who put the fault they have to find with a priest or religious to the account of all and then abuse them all with bitterness, forgetting that they themselves are full of imperfections.”

  He announces to his hearers in 1516 that, “to-day the clergy are enveloped in thick darkness”; “it troubles no one that all the vices prevail among the faithful, pride, impurity, avarice, quarrelling, anger, ingratitude” and every other vice; “these things you may do as much as you like so long as you respect the rights and liberties of the Church! but if you but touch these, then you are no longer a true son and friend of the Church.” The clergy, he continues, have received many possessions and liberties from the secular princes, but now they are quarrelling with their patrons and insisting on their exemptions: “Bad, godless men strut about with the gifts of their benefactors and think they are doing enough when they mutter a few prayers on their behalf,” “and yet Paul when describing the priest and his duties never even mentioned prayer[!]. But what he did mention, that no one complies with to-day.... They are priests only in appearance.... Where do you find one who carries out the intention of the Founders? Therefore they deserve that what they have received [from the princes] should be taken away from them again.”

  “As a matter of fact,” the mystic continues, quite manifestly conveying a hint to the secular authorities, “it were better, and assuredly safer, if the temporalities of the clergy were placed under the control of the worldly authorities ... then they would at least be obliged to stand in awe of others and would be more cautious in all matters.”

  “Up to now the laity have been too unlettered, and from ignorance have allowed themselves to be led, though full of complaints and bitterness against the clergy. But now they are beginning to be aware of the secret of our iniquity (‘nosse mysteria iniquitatis nostræ’) and to examine into our duties.... In addition to this, it seems to me that the secular authorities fulfil their obligations better than our ecclesiastical rulers. They rigorously punish theft and murder, at least when the lawyers do not intervene with their artfulness. The Church authorities, on the other hand, only proceed against those who infringe their liberties, possessions and rights, and are filled with nothing but pomp, avarice, immorality and disputatiousness.” In the course of this strong outburst, which gives us an insight into the working of his mind, he goes on to brand the higher clergy as “whited sepulchres” and as the “most godless breakers of the law,” who purposely promote only stupid fellows to the priesthood, or even to the most exalted offices. Here the intemperance of his language is already that of his later days, though a year was yet to elapse before he published his Indulgence theses.

  Strictures on the use of Indulgences occur, however, among his criticisms dating from this time. He attacks the “unlearned preachers” whose promises of Indulgences in return for donations for the building of churches, or similar pious objects, attract the people, though the latter are “altogether careless about fulfilling the duties of their calling.” He lays to the charge of the Pope and the Bishops not merely the real abuses in the preaching of Indulgences — as though they had been aware of them all — but also the making of Indulgences to depend on offerings; all the Bishops are, however, on the path to hell, and intent on seducing the people from the true service of God.

  He had, as we have seen, praised the worldly authorities at the expense of the ecclesiastical dignitaries, and now we find him introducing into his theological lectures a strange eulogy of Frederick, his Elector: “You, Prince Frederick, are yet to be guided by a good angel, therefore be on the watch. How greatly have you already been tried by injustice, and how rightly might you have taken up arms! You have suffered, you remained peaceable. I wonder, were you calling to mind your sins, and wishing thereby to confess them and do penance?” To this the mystic himself prudently replies: “I know not,” and adds: “Perhaps it was merely the fear of possibly getting the worse.” The exhortations he sees fit to address to his sovereign are directed not so much against selfishness or other faults, but rather against his supposed excessive piety; he is blamed for frequently postponing audiences on the plea that he must be present at prayers or Divine Service, and yet, Luther thinks, “we ought to be resigned and indifferent to go wherever the Lord calls us and not attach ourselves obstinately to anything”; another complaint was that the Elector was too much given to imitating the Bishop in the collecting of relics. The Elector’s love for rare relics was indeed notorious, and, as a matter of fact, Luther himself was of service to the Elector in this very matter at the time when Staupitz was negotiating for him at St. Ursula’s in Cologne. We hear of this in a letter, in which Luther also sends his thanks to the Elector for his present of a new cowl (cucullus) “of really princely cloth.”

  When, after his second course of lectures on the Psalms, Luther commenced the publishing of an amended edition he dedicated this, his first effort in biblical exegesis, to the Elector, with a preface in the form of a panegyric couched in the most fulsome language. The Elector, Luther tells him, possessed all the qualities o
f a good ruler in no common degree; his love of learning not only rendered him immortal himself, but conferred this quality on all those who were permitted to belaud him. Under his rule “pure theology triumphed”; secular rulers had, by promoting learning, taken precedence of spiritual dignitaries, “for the Church’s exuberant riches and her powerful influence did not avail her much.” Would that there were other such temporal princes as Frederick, who, as Staupitz had said, was able to discourse on Holy Scripture as learnedly and acutely as the Pope himself (“vel sanctissimum et summum pontificem deceret”); whose utterance bore witness to the “sagacity of his judgment,” filled Luther with love for such a sovereign and made him strong in the defence of Holy Scripture against all Scotists, Thomists, Albertists and Moderns (Nominalists). It was only on account of his opponents, who scoffed at the Bible and wished to replace God’s Word by their own, that he had been induced to quit his beloved solitude and retirement; indeed, he felt quite unworthy to wear the Doctor’s cap which the Prince had so kindly bought for him, and merely did so from obedience; the Prince had been more careful for him than he was for himself, had upheld him in his professorship and not allowed him to suffer expulsion, however much he (Luther) had desired to suffer this at the hands of his enemies.

  The clever eulogist appears soon to have gained for himself great favour at Court. Barely two months after the letter spoken of, he requests of the sovereign, in the name of his priory, permission “for the monks to build a chamber outside the walls in the moat.” The intention was to erect a privy in the town moat for the use of the monastery, which was situated close to the walls. At the same time he begs that a black cappa (habit) which had been promised him in 1516 or 1517 might now be bestowed upon him, and refers to his dedication of the Psalter as perhaps deserving some such reward; he also asks the Prince to include in his gift a white cloak, which he might perchance have merited by the “Apostle,” i.e. by his Commentary on the Epistle of St. Paul to the Galatians, upon which he was at that time engaged.

  Such little touches often reveal the spiritual atmosphere in which a man moves, and by which he is influenced, quite as well as more important matters.

  The frightful accusations which Luther brings forward in his Commentary on Romans against the state of morals in Rome belong to a somewhat earlier period; their tone is such as to lead one to fear the worst for the author’s submission to the highest authorities in the Church. The language St. Bernard employed, though he too reproved the immorality of the Papal residence, is quite different in tone from the arrogant words of the Wittenberg Doctor; in the former the most grievous reproofs are mitigated by the warm esteem the saint displays for authority as such, and by filial affection for the Church; in the latter there is nothing but bitterness. Such outbursts of spite confirm our previous observations concerning the results of Luther’s journey to Rome. His indignation with what he had seen or heard during his visit to Rome of the moral conditions under Alexander VI and Julius II became gradually more apparent.

  “At Rome,” he exclaims, “they no longer recognise any restrictions on their liberty, everything is set aside by means of dispensations. They have arrogated to themselves freedom of the flesh in every particular.”

  “Rome to-day has sunk back to its old heathen state,” where, as Paul says, licentiousness prevailed.

  “To-day Rome drags the whole world with her into the puddle; she far exceeds in unbridled luxury even ancient Rome, and stands in even greater need of apostolic messengers from God than she did at the beginning. My only hope is that these may come to her in friendly guise and not to execute stern justice.”

  “We may well be amazed at the thick darkness of these times.” “It matters nothing to the Church authorities though you be steeped in all the vices on the list drawn up by Paul (2 Tim. iii. 2 ff.); the sins may cry to Heaven for vengeance, but that does not matter, you are still looked upon as the most devout of Christians so long as you respect the rights and liberties of the Church.” “We have mere phantom priests, who are well supported by phantom revenues. The priests are such only in name.” “Those who ought to keep order are themselves the most godless transgressors,” etc.

  Pride, everywhere, is, he thinks, the main cause of the corruption of the times. The humility of Christ is forgotten, and each one wants to exalt himself and amend others instead of himself.

  The worst kind of pride, he constantly declares, is that which exalts its own good works in the sight of God. This spiritual overbearing is the reason why the world is filled with the heresy of the Pelagians; the sovereign efficacy of grace is not recognised. Almost the whole Church is overturned because men have put their trust in the deceptive doctrines of the Schoolmen, which are opposed to grace, “for owing to this, all commit sin with impunity ... and have lost all sense of fear.”

  In 1514 we hear Luther asserting, that of the three vices, sensuality, anger and pride, pride was the most difficult to overcome, a warning which his own experience had confirmed all too surely. “This vice,” he complains, “arises even from victory over the other vices.” One wonders whether he is speaking here from personal experience.

  We may ask a similar question with regard to the two other faults mentioned by him, anger and sensuality. Putting aside anger, the effects of which upon himself he frequently admits, we find that he also gives an answer concerning the third temptation. He writes in 1519 of the experiences of his earlier years with regard to sensuality: “It is a shameful temptation, I have had experience of it. You yourselves are, I fancy, not ignorant of it. Oh, I know it well, when the devil comes and tempts us and excites the flesh. Therefore let a man consider well and prove himself whether he is able to live in chastity, for when one is on heat, I know well what it is, and when temptation then comes upon a man he is already blind,” etc.

  In his later years he also refers to the “very numerous temptations” which he underwent at the monastery, and of which he complained to his confessor; the more he fought against them, the stronger they became.

  What he says of falling into sin is very instructive from the psychological point of view. It serves as a stepping-stone to his views on penance.

  “Even to-day,” he writes in his Commentary on Romans where he deals with hardened sinners, “God allows men to be tempted by the devil, the world and the flesh until they are in despair, choosing thus to humble His elect and lead them to put their trust in Him alone without presuming upon their own will and works. Yet He often, especially in our day, incites the devil to plunge His elect into dreadful sins beneath which they languish, or at least allows the devil ever to hinder their good resolutions, making them do the contrary of what they wish to do, so that it becomes plain to them that it is not they who will or perform what is good. And yet by means of all this God leads them against their expectations [to His grace] and sets them free while they are sighing because they desire and do so much that is evil, and are unable to desire and do the good they would. Yea, it is thus that God manifests His strength and that His name is magnified over the whole earth.” This passage is scored in the margin of the original MS. Was it his intention to include himself among those who are always hindered by the devil from doing what is good, or even among those whom he plunges into dreadful sins, who despair and are then at last led by God to His grace and become promoters of the glory of His name? A certain resemblance which this description bears to other passages in which he recounts his temptations, despair and supposed deliverance and election makes this seem possible, though it is by no means certain.

  We are more inclined to apply to him a remarkable description, which he gives in another passage of the Commentary on Romans, of the devil’s action on a man whom he wishes to lead astray. Man’s fall under the bondage of sin and his resuscitation by grace engage his attention often and with a singular intensity, but generally speaking he makes no mention of contrition or satisfaction, but only of a covering over with the righteousness of Christ. The description in question, given in eloquen
t language, is based on the well-known passage in Romans iii. 28: “We account a man to be justified by faith without the works of the law.” This is the verse in which Luther later, in his translation, interpolated the word “alone” (“by faith alone”), but on which he does not as yet bestow any particular attention. On the contrary, he commences his exposition of this text with the statement: “Righteousness must, indeed, be sought by works, but these are not the works of the law because they are performed by grace and in faith.”

  He goes on to mention four classes of men who are led away by the devil in their esteem and practice of works. The first he draws away from all good works and entangles in manifest sin. The second, who think themselves righteous, he makes tepid and careless. The third, also righteous in their own eyes, he renders over-zealous and superstitious, so that they set themselves up as a class apart and despise others; they have been mentioned over and over again in the above pages, in recounting his warfare with the Observants, the “Spirituals,” the proud self-righteous, etc.

  The fourth and last class might possibly include himself.

  “The fourth class consists of those who, at the instigation of the devil, desire to be free from any sin, pure and holy. But as they, nevertheless, feel that they commit sin and that all they do is tainted with evil, the devil terrifies them to such an extent with fear of the judgments of God and scruples of conscience that they almost despair. He is acquainted with each one’s disposition and tempts him accordingly. As they are zealous in the pursuit of righteousness the devil is unable to turn them aside from it so readily. Therefore he sets himself to fill them with enthusiasm, so that they wish to free themselves too speedily from all trace of concupiscence. This they are unable to do, and consequently he succeeds in making them sad, downcast and faint-hearted, yea, even in causing them unendurable anxiety of conscience and despair.”