Collected Works of Martin Luther

by Martin Luther

  The fanatics’ exaggerations were, however, too much for Luther. In his efforts to oppose their trend he goes so far as to include even the Decalogue, when he exclaims: “Don’t bother us with Moses”; the Ten Commandments are disfigured with Mosaism, so he says, for they prescribe the Sabbath and forbid images; it was stupid to see in the Decalogue nothing more than moral commandments and precepts of the natural law. Not on account of this law do we observe the weekly day of rest, but because we need a rest and regular times for Divine worship, viz. out of love for our neighbour and from necessity. It is no easy matter to reconcile this with Luther’s own praiseworthy practice of teaching the Commandments and seeing that the young were instructed in them, or with the great respect with which he surrounded the Decalogue. The Church’s view, as expounded by St. Thomas, was both better and more logical, viz. that the Ten Commandments were the primary and common precepts of the law of nature, and that the alteration in the third Commandment, introduced by the Church concerning the day (Sunday in place of the Sabbath), was merely a minor detail not affecting the real substance of the Commandment.

  That, however, the Sunday, instead of the Saturday, was to be observed as holy was a point on which Luther had perforce to content himself with that very tradition which he had so often abused.

  Tradition likewise was his only authority for defending Infant Baptism with so much determination against the fanatics. It is true, that, in order to deprive his opponents of their chief argument, he put forth the strange theory, treated of elsewhere, that infants are able to believe. Elsewhere, too, he seeks to persuade himself, in spite of all difficulties, that infants in some way or other co-operate in the baptismal work of justification by means of some sort of faith.

  On the other hand, he confutes Carlstadt’s opinion as to the figurative sense of the Eucharistic words of consecration in a masterly dissertation on their real meaning. Here he holds the field because his interpretation is conformable both with that of antiquity and with the dictates of reason. We find him demolishing Carlstadt’s stupidities by appeals to reason, but here Luther is in contradiction with himself, for in another part of the book, where, for his purpose, it was essential to make out reason to be absolutely blind as regards doctrine, he has the strongest invectives against it or any use of reason in matters of faith. In the case of Carlstadt’s objections against the Sacramental Presence of Christ, he had been obliged to have recourse to proofs based on reason, yet in the other passage he says: “As if we did not know that reason is the devil’s handmaid and does nothing but blaspheme and dishonour all that God says or does.” To come to him with such a Frau Hulda (the name by which he ridicules reason) “is mere devil’s roguery.” In his contempt for reason he goes so far as to advocate a new theory of the omnipresence of Christ’s body, in heaven and everywhere on earth, in spite of the impossibility such a thing would involve.

  It was quite at variance with his habitual exhortations and commands for him calmly to inform the fanatics that, whoever does not wish to receive the Sacrament may leave it alone. The only effect of receiving the Sacrament now appears to him to be, that it strengthens in us the Word of faith in Christ, and is a consolation to troubled consciences. It is true that he proves himself a fiery advocate of the literal sense of the words of institution and a passionate defender of the Sacramental Presence, yet the meagre effect he concedes to the Eucharist makes his fervour somewhat difficult to understand, for there is no doubt that he minimises both the graces we receive through the Sacrament and the greatness of the gift of Christ; apart from this he altogether excludes the sacrificial character of the Supper. Still, his zeal for the defence of the Eucharist against those who denied it was so great, that, out of defiance, he was anxious to retain even the Latin wording of his “Liturgy” and, to this end, made a pathetic appeal to the chapter in which St. Paul speaks of the use of strange tongues (1 Cor. xiv.), which Luther thought might be understood of the language used in the Mass.

  The list of feeble arguments and self-contradictions found in this remarkable book might be indefinitely lengthened, though, on the other hand, it also contains many a practical and striking refutation of views held by the fanatics.

  In the press of his personal struggle, and in spite of all his scorn for his opponents’ “spiritism,” Luther could not refrain from bringing forward against Carlstadt a prophecy of the “higher spirit.” This prophecy had condemned Carlstadt beforehand and had foretold that he would not long share our faith; this has now been fulfilled to the letter, so that “I cannot but understand it.” Unfortunately, before this, the opposite party had discovered a prediction against Luther, an “ancient prophecy” which was certainly about to be fulfilled in Luther, viz. “that the black monk must first come and cause all mischief.”

  As was to be expected, Luther preferred, however, to lay greater stress on other considerations which might assist him to gain the upper hand. He returns to his favourite asseveration: “If what I have begun is of God, no one will be able to hinder it; if it is not, I shall most assuredly not uphold it.” But not to “uphold it” with all the force and passion at his command, was, as a matter of fact, impossible to him. “No one shall take it from me!” he exclaims, almost in the same breath with the above, and though he indeed adds “save God alone,” still he knew perfectly well that God would not appear personally in order to wrestle with him. Moreover, he will have it that the crucial test had occurred long before and had entirely vindicated him. So great a work as he had achieved could not, he assures us, have been “built” without God’s help; not he but a higher power was the builder, though, so far as he was concerned, he had “in the main laboured well and rightly [this to the Strasburg dissenters], so that whoever avers the contrary cannot be a good spirit; I hope I shall have no worse luck in the outward matters upon which these prophets are so fond of harping.” In “outward matters,” however, he was cautious enough to restrict his claim within his favourite province of freedom. He calls it “spiritual freedom,” not to make iconoclasm a duty, to leave each one at liberty to receive, or not receive, the Sacrament, and not to insist on the wearing of grey frocks. He is also careful not to prescribe anything, that, by way of outward observances they may not fall back into Popery, the whole essence of which consists in this sort of thing.

  Luther, however, insists all the more on the “Bible spirit,” the spirit of the outward Word.

  This, in spite of its subjective character, is to be set up as a brazen shield against the private judgment of the “heavenly prophets” and their inspirations. It is true his opponents objected that he himself had much to learn from the “Bible spirit,” for instance, greater meekness and a resolution to proceed without stirring up “dangerous enmities.” These, however, were minor matters in his eyes. For him the “Bible spirit” was the witness and safeguard of his treasured doctrine.

  What we must hearken to is not the inward Word — such is his emphatic declaration after his encounter with the fanatics, in flat contradiction to his earlier statements (see above, f.) — but above all the outward Word contained in Scripture: if we do otherwise we are simply following the example of the “heavenly prophets.” The Pope “spoke according to his own fancy,” paying no heed to the outward Word, but I speak according to Scripture. All that was necessary was not to pervert the Bible, as the fanatics did; it is the devil who gives them a wrong understanding of Scripture, indeed, according to Luther, there is no heretic who does not make much of Scripture. “When the devil sees that the Bible is used as a weapon against him, he runs to Scripture and raises such confusion that people no longer can tell who has the right interpretation. When I quote Scripture against the Papists and fanatics, they don’t believe me, for they have their own glosses.” Hence, such at least is his implicit invitation, they must hold fast to his gloss and no other. For I, by discovering Scripture, “have delivered the world from the horrid darkness of Antichrist; nor have I the faintest doubt, but am entirely convinced, that our Evangel
is the true one.” “The heresies and persecutions rampant amongst us are merely that confirmation of the truth which the New Testament predicted (1 Cor. xi. 19), of the truth which I preach. Heresies must needs arise,” etc. etc.

  Finally — such is one of his main arguments against the “heavenly prophets” — these heretical fanatics do not preach the “chief piece of Christian doctrine”; they “do not tell people how to get rid of sin, obtain a good conscience, and a joyful heart at peace with God, which, really, is the great thing. Here, if anywhere, is the sign that their spirit is of the devil.... Of how we may obtain a good conscience they are utterly ignorant, for they have never experienced it.” He, on the other hand, thanks to his doctrine, had, though with unheard-of efforts, won his way to a quiet conscience, and by this impressed an infallible stamp upon his Evangel; his own way to salvation will be the way of all who trustfully lay hold on the merits of Christ. Yet it is not the way for all. For the proud, and for all who are full of self, there is the law to terrify them and lay bare their sin. It is only to the “troubled consciences” who tremble before the wrath of God, to the simple, the poor, and those who are utterly cast down, that the Evangel speaks. But these fanatics have no interior combats and death-struggles, they neither humble themselves before God, nor do they pray. “This I know and am certain of, that they never commenced their undertaking by imploring God’s help, or praying, and that, even now, their conscience would not allow them to pray for a happy issue.” Not only do they not pray, but they are simply unable to pray; they are lost souls and belong to the devil.

  Never let us in any single thing ever trust to our own knowledge and our own will. “I prefer to listen to another rather than to myself.” We cannot be sufficiently on our guard “against the great rascal whom we bear in our hearts.” The fanatics retorted: Well may you speak thus, “you who soar aloft so high with your faith,” you who are so full of yourself that you must needs use us as your target; “your defiant teaching and your obstinacy” are well known to all.

  Carlstadt and his fellows were not to be converted by such outpourings as these.

  The rebellious fanatics treated the writings directed against them with the greatest contempt. Caspar Glatz, who had replaced Carlstadt as Lutheran pastor at Orlamünde, said in a report to Wittenberg: They use them in the privy, as I myself have seen and heard from others. Luther, too, indignantly apprises Wenceslaus Link of this: “Rustici nates libello meo purgant, sic Satan furit. Thus doth Satan rage.”

  The most important change called forth in Luther by his encounters with the fanatics was an increasing disinclination to appeal as heretofore to any extraordinary divine illumination or inspiration of his own. At the commencement of the conflict he had been in the habit of telling them: “I also was in the spirit, I also have seen spirits”; now, however, little by little, as we shall see more plainly later (vol. iv., xxviii. 1), such assurances made room for an appeal to the “Word.” The outward Bible-Word, the meaning of which he had himself discovered, was now to count for everything.

  Beneath the yoke of the Word he was anxious to compel also his other opponents, such as Agricola, Schenk, and Egranus, to pass.

  3. Johann Agricola, Jacob Schenk, and Johann Egranus

  Johann Agricola of Eisleben, one of the earliest and most violent of Luther’s assistants, was desirous of carrying his doctrine on good works and the difference between the Law and the Gospel to its logical conclusion. His modifications and criticism of Luther’s doctrine called forth the latter’s vigorous denunciation. Agricola had to thank his own restlessness, and “the burden of Luther’s superiority and hostility,” for what he endured so long as Luther lived. As the details of the quarrel are reserved for later consideration (vol. v., xxix. 3), we shall here merely indicate Luther’s behaviour by quoting a few of his utterances.

  “The foolish fellow was concerned about his honour,” Luther says very characteristically of this quarrel. He was anxious “that the Wittenbergers should be nothing and Eisleben everything.” “He is hardened,” and nothing can be done for him; “Agricola says, ‘I, too, have a head.’ Well, were that all that God requires, I might say I have one too. Thus they go on in their obstinacy and see not that they are in the wrong.... Our Lord God evidently intends to go on worrying me yet a while so as to defy the Papists.” Elsewhere he says: “Agricola looks on at these doings with a merry mien, and refuses to humble himself. Yet he has submitted his recantation to me, perhaps in the hope that I would treat him more leniently. But I shall seek the glory of Christ and not his; I shall pillory him and his words, as a cowardly, proud, impious man, who has done much harm to the Church.”

  Another who fell into serious disagreements with Luther over the Antinomian question was Dr. Jacob Schenk, then preacher at Freiberg in Saxony (afterwards Court-preacher at Weimar). At Wittenberg his conduct began to give rise to suspicion at the same time as Agricola’s. He was reported to have said in a sermon: Whoever goes on preaching the law, is possessed of the devil. The eloquence of this man of no mean talents was as great as his aims were strange.

  In Lauterbach’s Diary we find the following, under date October 7, 1538, concerning Luther and Schenk: At Luther’s table the conversation turned upon Jacob Schenk, “who, in his arrogant and lying fashion was doing all manner of things [so Luther declared] which he afterwards was wont to deny. Wherever he was, he raised up strife, relying on the authority of the Prince and the applause of the people. But he will be put to shame in the end [so Luther went on to say], just as Johann Agricola, who enjoyed great consideration at Court and was almost a Privy Councillor; his reputation vanished without my having any hand in the matter. When Schenk preached at Zeitz he gave general dissatisfaction. The wretched man is puffed up with pride and deceives himself with new-fangled words.... He has concealed his wickedness under a Satanic hypocrisy and is ever aping me. Never shall I trust him again, no, not to all eternity.”

  Lauterbach gives a striking picture of Luther’s behaviour at his encounter with Jacob Schenk on September 11, 1538. Luther and Jonas, after a sermon which had greatly displeased them, paid him a visit. They found him, “sad to relate, impenitent and unabashed, rebellious, ambitious, and perjurious.” Luther pointed out to him his ignorance; how could he, unexperienced as he was, and understanding neither dialectics nor rhetoric, venture thus to oppose his teachers? Schenk replied: “I must do so for the sake of Christ’s Blood and His dear Passion; my own great trouble of conscience also compels me to it” (thus adducing a motive similar to that so often alleged by Luther in his own case). I must “fear God more than all my preceptors; for I have a God as much as you.” Luther replied: “It may be that you understand my doctrine perfectly, but you ought nevertheless, for the honour of God, to honour us as the teachers who first instructed you.” This seems to have made no impression on Schenk. Luther’s parting shot was: “If you are torn to pieces, may the devil lap your blood. We also are ‘in peril from false brethren.’ Poor Freiberg [the scene of Schenk’s labours] will never recover from this. But God, the Avenger, will destroy the man who has defiled His temple. The proverb says: ‘Where heart and mind both are bad, the state of a man indeed is sad.’” At supper, Schenk, seated at table with Luther and Jonas, began to abuse Luther and the inhabitants of Freiberg; after saying much that was scarcely complimentary, he added: “‘When I have made the Court as pious as you have made the world, then my work will be finished.’ In spite of all this impertinence he remained seated, though his hypocritical show of humility revealed how depraved his heart really was. When Luther got up to leave the room Schenk attempted to start the quarrel anew.” Finally they parted unreconciled.

  Schenk subsequently led a wandering existence, ever under suspicion as to the purity of his faith. In 1541 he was at Leipzig and in 1543 he visited Joachim, Elector of Brandenburg. It was given out by adversaries, such as Melanchthon and Alberus, that he ultimately committed suicide, driven thereto by melancholy; the statement is, however, not otherwis
e confirmed,

  Johann Wildenauer (or Silvius), the theologian, was born at Eger in Bohemia, and hence was generally known as Egranus. This priest, who was a man of talent and of Humanistic culture, and an enthusiastic follower of Erasmus, had been won over to the new teaching in the very beginning. After having been preacher at the Marienkirche at Zwickau until Thomas Münzer made any further stay impossible, we find him from 1521-23 and, again, from 1533-34, preacher of the new faith at Joachimstal, where he was one of the predecessors of Mathesius.

  Wildenauer was one of the most remarkable and independent characters of the time, but an “extremely restless spirit.” Although a Lutheran, he openly expressed his dissatisfaction, not only with the moral conditions under Lutheranism, but also with many points of his master’s doctrine, particularly with his theory that faith alone justifies, and that man cannot co-operate in the work of his salvation. Luther became at an early date suspicious and angry concerning him. He wrote to Joachimstal “to warn the people against the dubious doctrines of Egranus,” as Mathesius relates, on the strength of copies of certain letters he had seen. The more dutiful Mathesius speaks of his predecessor as “a Mameluke and an ungrateful pupil.” His fault consisted in his following the example of Erasmus, as did in progress of time so many other admirers of the Dutch scholar, and relinquishing more and more his former good opinion of Luther’s person and work; with this change his own sad experiences had not a little to do. To the Catholic Church, which had excommunicated him, he apparently never returned. When, in 1534, he was deprived of his post at Joachimstal, he complained in a letter, that he had been “driven into exile and outlawed by Papists and Lutherans alike.”