Luther, vol. 3 of 6

by Hartmann Grisar

2. From the Congregational to the State Church Secularisations

In the first stage of his revolt against the Church, Luther had imagined that the new order of things could be brought about amongst his followers merely by his declaiming against outward forms; repeatedly he asserted that the Christian life consisted wholly in faith and charity, that faith would display its power spontaneously in good works, and that thus everything would arrange itself; a new and better Church would spring up within the old one, though minus a hierarchy, minus all false doctrine and holiness-by-works.

Up to the commencement of the ‘twenties his efforts had, in fact, been directed not to the setting up of new congregations but to the reconstruction of the existing Church system. Previous to his drafting of the plan comprised in the writing he sent to Prague, on the appointment of ecclesiastical ministers (vol. ii., p. 111 f.), in which we find the congregational organisation proposed as a model for the German Church, he was as yet merely desirous of paving the way for what he looked on as a reformation within the already existing Church, and this by means of the rulers and nobles.

His work “An den christlichen Adel,” to which we must now return in order to consider it from this particular standpoint, was composed with this object. By it he sought to rouse the rulers and those in power who had opened their hearts to the “Christian” faith, i.e. to the new Evangel, to take in hand the moral and religious reformation on the lines indicated by himself. Thus he appealed, as almost all sectarians had instinctively done from the very first, to the secular authorities and the power of the Princes in order to attain his special ecclesiastical ends. The secular Estates, already covetous of increased power and independence, were invited in these fiery pages to take their stand against the Papacy and the hierarchy, just as they would against “a destroyer of Christendom,”[47] and “to punish them severely” on account of divers disorders and “for their abuse of excommunication and their shocking blasphemies against the name of God,”[48] in short, “to put an end to the whole affair.”[49] The last words, found in the writing “On good works,” were addressed to the “King, the Princes, Nobles, Townships and people generally.”

Thus to force the two powers, secular and ecclesiastical, out of their spheres, handing over the supervision of the Church to the secular authorities[50] can only be characterised as an attack upon the whole Christian and moral order of things, on the whole previous development of the Church and on the highest principles of religion. It is true that the Catholic States had already appropriated many of the rights really appertaining to the Church, but to carry their interference so far as Luther advised, had never yet occurred to them. Indeed, the subversion of order planned by Luther was so great, that the impossibility of carrying out his project must have speedily become apparent to him. As a matter of fact, the actual number of those whose hearts had been awakened by the Evangel to the extent of sharing Luther’s extreme views was not at all considerable.

When anxious friends pointed out to Luther how revolutionary his undertaking was, his excuse was merely this: “I am blameless, seeing that my only object is to induce the nobles of Germany to set a limit to the encroachments of the Romanists by passing resolutions and edicts, not by means of the sword; for to fight against an unwarlike clergy would be like fighting against women and children.”[51] Hence, so long as no blood was shed, the overthrow of the legal status of the Church met with his full approval.

The torrents of angry abuse which Luther soon afterwards poured forth upon those in power because they would not follow his call and allow themselves to be “awakened,” were simply proofs of the futility of his plan.

No demagogue had ever before filled Germany with such noisy abuse of the Princes as Luther now did in works intended for the masses, where he declared, for instance, that “God has sent our Rulers mad”; that “they command their subjects just what they please”; that they are “scamps” and “fools”; that he is forced to resist, “at least by word,” these “ungracious Lords and angry squires” on account of their “blasphemies against the Divine Majesty.”[52] He denounced them to the populace as having heaped together their “gold and goods” unjustly, just as “Nimrod had acquired his goods and his gold.”[53] He accuses them “of allowing everything to drift, and of hindering one another”; “plenty of them even vindicate the cause of Antichrist,”[54] therefore the Judgment of God must fall upon our “raving Princes.” “God has blinded them and made them stupid that they may run headlong to destruction.”[55]

This he wrote on the eve of the fearful events of the Peasant Rising.

Thus his ideal of the future was now shattered, viz. the spiritual society and new Christendom which he had planned to establish with the help of the Princes. “This dream passed rapidly away. All that remained was a deep-seated pessimism.... From that time the persuasion grew on him that the world will always remain the same, that it can never be governed according to the Evangel and can never be rendered really Christian; likewise, that true Christians will always be but few in number.”[56]

Hence these few Christians must become the object of his solicitude. He is more and more inspired by the fantastic notion that Popery is to be speedily overthrown by God Himself, by His Word and by the breath of His Mouth. In the meantime he expects the new Church to develop spontaneously from the congregations by the power of God, even though at first it should consist of only a small number of faithful souls.

The congregational ideal, as a passing stage in his theory of Church formation, absorbed him, as we have already seen, more particularly from the year 1523. The congregations were to be self-supporting after once the new teaching had been introduced amongst them. In accordance with the Evangel, they were to be quite independent and to choose their own spiritual overseers. From among these, superintendents were to be selected, to be at the head of the congregations of the country, and as it were general-bishops, assisted by visitors, of course all laymen, no less than those from whom they derived their authority and by whom, for instance for bad doctrine, they might be removed. The above-mentioned letter sent to Prague, on the appointment of ministers in the Church (1523), contained further details. Other statements made by Luther about that same time, and already quoted, supply what is here lacking; for instance, his ascribing to each member of the congregation the right of judging of doctrine and of humbly correcting the preacher, should he err, even before the whole assembly, according to the Spirit of God which inspires him.[57]

Thus he had relinquished the idea of proceeding by means of the assistance of the Princes and nobles, and had come to place all his hopes in the fruitfulness and productive power of the congregational life.

But here again he met with nothing but disappointment. It was not encouraging to find, that, on the introduction of the new teaching and in the struggle against alleged formalism and holiness-by-works, what Christian spirit previously existed was inclined to take to flight, whilst an unevangelical spirit obtruded itself everywhere. Hence his enlargement of his earlier congregational theory by the scheme for singling out the faithful, i.e. the true Christians, and forming of them a special community.

Just as his belief in the spontaneous formation of a new state of things testified to his abnormal idealism, so this new idea of an assembly within the congregation displays his utter lack of any practical spirit of organisation. As to how far this perfecting of his congregational Churches tended to produce a sort of esoteric Church, will be discussed elsewhere (vol. v., xxix., 8).

As his starting-point in this later theory he took the proposition, which he believed could be reconciled with the Gospel, viz. that the Gospel is not for all; it is not intended for the “hard-hearted” who “do not accept it and are not amenable to it,” it is not meant for “open sinners, steeped in great vices; even though they may listen to it and not resist it, yet it does not trouble them much”; still less is it for those, “worst of all men, who go so far as to persecute the Gospel.” “These three classes have nothing to do with the Gospel, nor do we preach to such as these; I only wish we could go further and punish them, the unmannerly hogs, who prate much of it but all to no purpose, as though it [the Gospel] were a romance of Dietrich of Bern, or some such-like tale. If a man wants to be a pig, let him think of the things which are a pig’s. Would that I could exclude such men from the sermons.”[58]

In reality, as is evident from passages already quoted and as Luther here again goes on to point out, the Gospel was intended for “simple” consciences, for those who, “though they may at times stumble, are displeased with themselves, feel their malady and would gladly be rid of it, and whose hearts are therefore not hardened. These must be stirred up and drawn to Christ. To none other than these have we ever preached.” The latter assertion is not, of course, to be taken quite literally. It is, however, correct that he considered only the true believers as real members of the Church, for these alone, viz. for people who had been touched by the Spirit of God and recognised their sins, was his preaching intended.[59] These too it was whom he desired to unite if possible into an ordered body. Side by side with this he saw in his mind the great congregational Church, termed by him the “masses”; this Church seemed, however, to him, less a Church than a field for missionary labour, for its members were yet to be converted. The idea of a popular Church was, nevertheless, not altogether excluded by the theory of the separate Church of the true believers.

More particularly at Wittenberg he was desirous of seeing this segregation of the “Christians” carried out, quietly and little by little. He prudently abstained from exerting his own influence for its realisation, and preferred to wait for it to develop spontaneously “under the Spirit of God.” The idea was, as a matter of fact, far too vague. He also felt that neither he nor the others possessed the necessary spiritual authority for guiding hearts towards this goal, for preserving peace within the newly founded communities, or for defending them against the hostile elements outside. As for his favourite comparison of his theory of the congregation with that in vogue in Apostolic times, it was one which could not stand examination. His congregations lacked everything—the moral foundation, the Spirit from above, independent spiritual authority and able, God-enlightened superiors to act as their organs and centres.

At Leisnig in the Saxon Electorate (cf. vol. ii., p. 113) an attempt to call an ideal evangelical community into existence was made in 1523, the Church property being illegally confiscated by the magistrates and members of the parish, and the ancient right of the neighbouring Cistercian house to appoint the parish-priest being set at nought by the congregation choosing its own pastor; here the inevitable dissensions at once broke out within the community and the whole thing was a failure. The internal confusion to which the congregation would be exposed through the doctrine of private illumination and “apostolic” rights, is clear from the very title of the work which Luther composed for Leisnig: “That a Christian assembly or parish has the right and power to judge of doctrine and to give the call to, and appoint and remove, its pastors,” etc.[60]

In spite of the evident impracticability of the scheme, the phantom of the congregational Church engrossed the author of the ecclesiastical schism for about ten years. Nor did he ever cease to cherish the idea of the Church apart. It was this idea which inspired the attacks contained in his sermons upon the multitude of lazy, indolent and unbelieving souls to whom it was useless to preach and who, even after death, were only fit for the flaying-ground because during life they had infected the invisible, living community. He is heedless of what must result, in the towns, villages and families, from any division into Christians and non-Christians, nor does he seem to notice that the system of the Church apart could only produce spiritual pride, hypocrisy and all the errors of subjectivism in those singled out by the Spirit, to say nothing of the obstinacy and wantonness engendered in those who were excluded.

The popular Church, of which it was necessary to make the best, owing to the impracticability of the Church apart, apparently embraced all, yet, within it, according to Luther, the true believers formed an invisible Church, and this in a twofold manner, first, because they were themselves not to be recognised, and, secondly, because the Word and the Sacrament, from which they derived their religious life, concealed a whole treasure of invisible forces.

With such imperfect elements it was, however, impossible to establish a new Church system. A new phase was imminent, towards which everything was gravitating of its own accord; this was the State Church, i.e. the national Church as a State institution, with the sovereign at its head. The various congregational churches formed a visible body frequently impinging on the outward, civil government, and largely dependent on the support of the authorities; hence their gradual evolution into a State Church. The local and national character of the new system paved the way for this development. Luther, whilst at the bottom of his heart anxious to check it—for his ideal was an independent Church—came, under pressure of circumstances, to champion it as the best and only thing. A popular Church or State Church had never been his object, yet he ultimately welcomed the State Church as the best way to meet difficulties; this we shall see more clearly further on. In his efforts to overcome the apathy of the masses he even had recourse to compulsion by the State, inviting the authorities to force resisters to attend Divine Worship.[61]

Luther should have asked himself whether the moral grandeur and strength which, in spite of its favourable appearance, the congregational Church lacked, would be found in the compulsory State Church. This question he should have been able to answer in the negative. It was a radical misfortune that in all the attempts made to infuse life into the branch torn away by Luther from the universal Catholic Church the secular power never failed to interfere. The State had stood sponsor to the new faith on its first appearance and, whether in Luther’s interest or in its own, the State continued to intervene in matters pertaining to the Church. This interweaving of politics with religion failed to insure to the new Church the friendly assistance of the State, but soon brought it into a position of entire subservience—in spite of the protests of the originator of the innovation.

The jurisdiction of the State within the “Church,” in the case of the early Lutheran congregations, did not amount to any actual government of the Church by the sovereign. This, in the appalling form it was to assume, was a result of the later Consistories. What, with Luther’s consent, first passed into the hands of the secular authorities was the jurisdiction in certain external matters which, according to the earlier Canon Law, really belonged to the Bishop’s court. When episcopal authority was abolished the Elector of Saxony assumed this jurisdiction as a sort of bishop faute-de-mieux, or, to use Melanchthon’s expression, as the principal member of the Church (“membrum præcipuum ecclesiæ”).[62] The jurisdiction in question concerned, above all, matrimonial cases which, according to Luther, belonged altogether to the secular courts, matters of tithes, certain offences against ecclesiastical or secular law and points of Church discipline affecting public order. Luther had declared that the Church possessed no power to govern, that the only object for which it existed was to make men pious by means of the Word, that the secular authority was the only one able to make laws and formally to claim obedience “whether it does right or wrong.”[63] Hence the State in assuming jurisdiction in the above matters was doing nobody any injustice, was merely exercising its right, whilst the authority of which it made use was not “ecclesiastical,” but merely the common law exercised for the purpose of preserving “sound doctrine” and the “true Church.”[64]

The next step was the appointment of ecclesiastical superintendents by the sovereign and, either through these or without them, the nomination of pastors by the State, the removal of unqualified teachers, the convening of ecclesiastical synods or “consultations,” the carrying out of Visitations and the drawing up of Church regulations. Here again no objection on the point of principle was raised by Luther, partly because the power of the keys, according to him, included no coercive authority, partly because the idea of the “membrum præcipuum ecclesiæ” was elastic enough to permit of such encroachments on the part of the ruler.[65] In the Protestant Canon Law, compiled by R. Sohm, all the above is described, under appeal to Luther, as coming under the jurisdiction of the State, the Church being “without jurisdiction in the legal sense” and its business being “merely the ministry of the Word.”[66]

The introduction of the Consistories in 1539 was a result of the idea expressed by Justus Jonas in his memorandum, viz. that if the Church possesses no legal power of coercion for the maintenance of order, she is fatally doomed to perish. To many the growing corruption made an imitation of “episcopal jurisdiction in the Catholic style,” such as Melanchthon desiderated, appear a real need.[67] In the event the advice of Jonas was followed, jurisdiction being conferred on the Consistories directly by the ruler of the land. After a little hesitation Luther gave his sanction to the new institution, seeing that, though appointed by the sovereign, it was a mere spiritual tribunal of the Church. The Consistories, more particularly after his death, though retaining the name of ecclesiastical courts gradually became a department of the civil judicature, a good expression of the complete subservience of Church to State.

“The setting up of the civil government of the Church was achieved,” remarks Sohm, by an arrangement really “in entire opposition to the ideas of the Reformation.”[68]

“The lack of system in Luther’s mode of thought is perhaps nowhere so apparent as in his views on the authorities and their demeanour towards religion.”[69] The want of unity and sequence in his teaching becomes even more apparent when we listen to the very diverse opinions of Protestant scholars on the subject. It is no fault of the historian’s if the picture presented by the statements of Luther and his commentators shows very blurred outlines.

“The civil government of the Church,” writes Heinrich Böhmer, in “Luther im Lichte der neueren Forschung”—speaking from his own standpoint—“in so far as it actually represents a ‘government,’ is utterly at variance with Luther’s own principles in matters of religion. Neither can it be brought into direct historical connection with the Reformation.... The so-called congregational principle is really the only one which agrees with Luther’s religious ideal, according to which the decision upon all ecclesiastical matters is to be regarded as the right of each individual congregation.... It is, however, perfectly true that the attempts to reorganise the ecclesiastical constitution on the basis of this idea were a complete failure. Neither at Wittenberg, nor at Allstedt, nor at Orlamünde were the communities from a moral point of view sufficiently ripe.”[70]

The civil government of the Church is also in disagreement with Luther’s conception of the secular power as expressed in some chief passages of his work “Von welltlicher Uberkeytt,” (1523). According to Erich Brandenburg’s concise summary, Luther shows in this work, that “the task of the State and of society is entirely secular; it is not their duty to make men pious. There is no such thing as a Christian State; society and the State were called into being by God on account of the wicked.”[71] Brandenburg also quotes later statements made by Luther concerning the secular authorities, and infers, “that neither the civil government of the Church in the sense accepted at a later date, nor the quasi-episcopate of the sovereign, is really compatible with such views.”[72]

It is true that in his Commentary on the Gospel of St. John (1537-1538), in his annoyance at his unfortunate experiences of State encroachments, Luther declares, that “the two governments should not be intermingled to the end of the world, as was the case with the Jewish nation in Old Testament times, but must remain divided and apart, in order that the pure Gospel and the true faith may be preserved, for the Kingdom of Christ and the secular government are two very different things.”[73] He realises, however, the futility of his exhortations: “You will see that the devil will mingle them together again ... the sword of the Spirit and the secular sword.... Our squires, the nobles and the Princes, who now go about equipped with authority and desire to teach the preachers what they are to preach and to force the people to the sacrament according to their pleasure, will cause us much injury; for it is necessary ‘to render obedience to the worldly authorities,’ hence ‘what we wish, that you must do,’ and thus the secular and spiritual government becomes a single establishment.”[74]

Brandenburg, for his part, is of opinion that “the civil government of the Church had come about in opposition to Luther’s wishes, but had to be endured like other forms of injustice.... Luther reproached himself with strengthening the tyrants by his preaching, with throwing open doors and windows to them. But with the unworldly idealism peculiar to him, he thereupon replied defiantly: ‘What do I care? If, on account of the tyrants, we are to omit the teaching which is so essential a matter, then we should have been forced long since to relinquish the whole Evangel.’”[75]

On the other hand another Protestant theologian, H. Hermelink, who supports the opposite view, viz. that Luther was a staunch upholder of the supremacy of the authorities in matters ecclesiastic, adduces plentiful quotations from Luther’s writings in which the latter, even from the early days of his struggle, declares that the authorities have their say in spiritual matters, that it is their duty to provide for uniformity of teaching in each locality and to supervise Christian worship. He admits, however, that Luther set certain “bounds to the ecclesiastical rights of the authorities.”[76]

These statements in favour of the authorities cannot be disallowed. They arose partly from Luther’s efforts to advance his party with the help of the worldly magnates, partly, as will appear immediately, from the material difficulties of the Lutheran congregations, due to the confiscation of Church property by the secular power.

In any case it was unexpectedly that Luther found himself confronted with all the above problems. When their immediate solution became the most urgent task for the new faith, Luther’s principles were still far from presenting any well-defined line of action. “To these, and similar questions,” remarks Wilhelm Maurenbrecher, the Protestant historian of the Reformation, “Luther had given no sufficient answer; it would even seem as though he had not considered them at all carefully.” Among the questions was, according to Maurenbrecher, the fundamental one: “Who is to decide whether this or that person belongs to the congregation?” If the congregation, where does the Church come in? for, “after all, the congregation is not the Church.”[77] The very idea of the Church had still to be determined.[78]

Confiscation of Church Property.

In the Saxon Electorate, the home of the religious innovation, it had become imperatively necessary that the parishes which sided with Luther should be set in order by a strong hand, first, and principally, in the matter of the use to which the Church lands were to be put. In these territories, where the civil government of the Church first obtained, it arose through the robbing and plundering of the churches.

“The parsonages all over the country lie desolate,” Luther wrote to the Elector Johann of Saxony on October 31, 1525, “no one gives anything, or pays anything.... The common people pay no attention to either preacher or parson, so that unless some bold step be taken and the pastors and preachers receive State aid from your Electoral Highness, there will shortly be neither parsonages, nor schools, nor scholars, so that the Word of God and His worship will perish. Your Electoral Highness must therefore continue to devote yourself to God’s service and act as His faithful tool.”[79]

Not long afterwards Luther strongly advises the Elector not only to see to the material condition of the parsonages, but also to examine by means of visitors the fitness of the parsons for their office, “in order that the people may be well served in the Evangel and may contribute to his [the parson’s] support.”[80]

The Order for Visitations (1527), which Luther looked over and which practically had his approval, was intended in the first place to better financially the condition of the parishes. Hand in hand with this, however, went supervision of the preaching by the State and the repression by force of whatever Catholic elements still survived.[81] The Electoral Visitors here and there found the utmost indifference towards the new faith prevailing among the people, whose interests were all material. They finally proposed that the Elector should provide for the support of the parsons and assume the right of appointing and removing all the clergy.

Luther himself had written as early as 1526: “The complaints of the parsons almost everywhere are beyond measure great. The peasants refuse to give anything at all, and there is such ingratitude amongst the people for the Holy Word of God that there can be no doubt a great judgment of God is imminent.... It is the fault of the authorities that the young receive no education and that the land is filled with wild, dissolute folk, so that not only God’s command but our common distress compel us to take some measures.”[82]

“Common distress” was, in point of fact, compelling recourse to the authorities who had confiscated the property of the Church; i.e. the heads of the various parishes or the Electoral Court. The magistrates had laid hands upon the smaller benefices, which, as a matter of fact, were for the most part in their own gift or in that of the families of distinction, whilst in case of dispute the Elector himself had intervened. The best of the plunder naturally went to the Ruler of the land.

Luther addressed the Elector as follows: “Now that an end has been made of the Papal and ecclesiastical tyranny throughout your Highness’s dominions, and now that all the religious houses and endowments have come into the power of your Electoral Highness as the supreme head, this involves the duty and burden of setting this matter in order, since no one else has taken it up, nor has a right to do so.”[83]—Nor was Luther backward in pointing out to the Court, when obliged to complain of the meagre support accorded to the churches, the great service he had done in enriching it: “Has the Prince ever suffered any loss through us?” he asks a person of influence with the Elector in 1520. “Have we not, on the contrary, brought him much gain? Can it be considered an insignificant matter, that not only your souls have been saved by the Evangel, but that also considerable wealth, in the shape of property, has begun to flow into the Prince’s coffers, a source of revenue which is still daily on the increase?”[84]

The appropriation of property by the Elector as Ruler of the land necessarily entailed far-reaching obligations with regard to the churches.

Hence, when, on November 22, 1526, Luther represented to the sovereign the financial distress of the pastors, he also told him, that a just ruler ought to prevail upon his subjects to support the schools, pulpits and parsonages.[85] Johann, in his reply, when agreeing to intervene for the better ordering of the churches, likewise appeals to his rights as sovereign of the country: “Because we judge, and are of opinion, that it beseems us as Ruler to attend to them.”[86]

Luther’s invitation to the Princes to effect by force a reformation of the ecclesiastical order had already thrown wide open the doors to princely aggression.

“The secular power,” Luther had said, “has become a member of the Christian body, and though its work is of the body, yet it belongs to the spiritual estate. Therefore its work shall go forward without let or hindrance amongst all the members of the whole body.” The Christian secular authority shall exercise its office in all freedom, if necessary even against Pope, bishop and priest, for ecclesiastical law is nothing but a fond invention of Roman presumption.[87]

If it was the duty of the rulers to intervene on behalf of the general public needs of Christendom, how much more were they bound to provide for the proper standing and pure doctrine of the pastors. It is they who must assist in bringing about a “real, free Council,” since the Pope, whose duty it was to convene it, neglected to do so; “this no one can do so effectively as the secular powers, particularly now that they have become fellow-Christians, fellow-priests and fellow-clergymen, sharing our power in all things; their office and work, which they have from God over all men, must be allowed free course wherever needful and wholesome.”[88]

Luther was wide-awake to the fact, and reckoned upon it, that the gain to be derived from the rich ecclesiastical property would act as a powerful incentive with those in power to induce them to open their lands to the innovations. What ruler would not be tempted by the prospect of coming so easily into possession of the Church’s wealth, that fabulous patrimony accumulated from the gifts previous ages had made on behalf of the poor, of the service of the altar, of the clergy and the churches? They heard Luther declare that he was going to tear Catholic hearts away from “monasteries and clerical mummery”; they also heard him add: “When they are gone and the churches and convents lie desolate and forsaken, then the rulers of the land may do with them what they please. What care we for wood and stone if once we have captured the hearts?”[89] The taking over of the Church property by the rulers was, according to him, simply the just and natural result of the preaching of the Evangel. This was the light in which he wished the very unspiritual procedure of confiscation to be regarded.

He frequently insisted very urgently that the nobles and unauthorised laymen were not to seize upon the church buildings, revenues and real property. He was aware of the danger of countenancing private interference, and preferred to see the expropriation carried out by the power of the State and according to law. In this wise he hoped that the property seized might still, to some extent, be employed in accordance with its original purpose, though, as was inevitable, he was greatly disappointed in this hope. It is spiritual property, he repeats frequently, bestowed for a spiritual purpose, and therefore, even after the departure of its former occupant, it must be used for the salvation of souls in accordance with the Evangel. To the Elector Johann, for instance, he writes: The parsonages must be repaired out of the revenues of the monasteries, “because such property cannot profit your Electoral Highness’s Exchequer, for it was dedicated to God’s service and therefore must be devoted primarily to this object. Whatever is left after this, your Electoral Highness may make use of for the needs of the land, or for the poor.”[90]

His demands were, however, very inadequately complied with. If Luther really anticipated their fulfilment, he was certainly very ignorant of the ways of the world. Who was to prevent the Princes from seizing upon the Church lands with greedy hands so soon as they stood vacant, and employing them for their own purposes, or to enrich the nobles? Even where everything was done in an orderly manner, who could prevent ever-impecunious Sovereigns from making use of the revenues for State purposes and from allotting the first place among the “needs of the land” of which we just heard Luther speak, to their own everyday requirements?

Luther’s subsequent experiences drew from him such words as the following: “This robbing of the monasteries”—he wrote to Spalatin, who was still connected with the Court of the new Elector Johann (since 1525), concerning the condition of things in the Saxon Electorate—“is a very serious matter, which worries me greatly. I have set my face against it for a long while past. Not content with this, when the Prince was stopping here I actually forced my way into his chamber, in spite of the resistance I met with, in order to make representations to him privately.” He goes on to complain that there was little hope of redress so long as certain selfish intrigues were being carried on in the vicinity of the sovereign. Indeed, he does not anticipate much help from this Elector Johann, because he lacks his father’s firmness, and is much too ready to listen to anyone. “A Prince must know how to be angry, a King must be something of a tyrant; this the world demands.” As things are, however, we are imposed upon in all sorts of ways for “the sake of the spoils”; “smoke, fumes and fables” are made to serve, and we do not even know who are at work behind the scenes; at any rate they are hostile to the Evangel and were its foes even in the time of the pious Elector. “Now that they have enriched themselves, they laugh and exult over the fact that it is possible in the name of the Evangel to enjoy all sorts of evangelical freedom, and at the same time to be the Evangel’s worst enemy. This is bitter to me, more bitter than gall.” “I shall have to issue a public admonition to the Prince in order to insist upon some other administration of the religious houses; perhaps then I shall be able to shame those fellows.... I hate Satan’s rage, malice and ambushes, everywhere, in all matters, and unceasingly, and it gives me pleasure to thwart him and injure him wherever I can.”[91]

Thus the consequences were more serious than the ex-monk in his ignorance of the ways of the world had anticipated. “Satan,” on whose shoulders he lays the blame, was not to be so easily expelled. The worst acts of violence perpetrated in the name of the Word of God were the result of the lust for wealth which he had unchained.

“How heavily the negligence of our Court presses upon me,” he sighs in the last years of his life. Much is undertaken presumptuously, and then, after a while, we are left stranded in the mire; they do nothing themselves, and we are left to our fate. But I intend to pour my grievous complaints into the ears of Dr. Pontanus and the Prince himself as soon as I get a chance. I have learnt, to my great annoyance, that the nobles are governing in the Prince’s name.[92]

A few days after the letter to Spalatin, quoted above, in another letter to him, he gives vent to his thoughts on the marriage questions arising within the domain of the new faith.

Secularisation of the Matrimonial Courts.
Against the Lawyers.

The secularisation of the marriage courts appears as a very characteristic subject amongst the questions of jurisdiction arising between State and Church, side by side with the secularisation of Church property. The secularising of these courts was the logical consequence of Luther’s secularising of matrimony, which he regarded—to forestall his later statements[93]—“as an outward, secular matter, subject to the authorities, like food and clothing, house and land.”[94] According to the Confession of Augsburg at the very most it was a sacrament only in the same way that the authority of the magistrates appointed by God was a sacrament.[95] The codicil to the Articles of Schmalkalden required, that the “magistrates shall establish special marriage courts,” because Canon Law “contains pitfalls for conscience.”[96]

As the Church had formerly been the sole authority on questions relating to marriage, and as the custom of referring such matters to her was deeply rooted in the life of the German people, Luther at the outset consented to take this into account and to leave the decision to his preachers; the result of this was, however, that he found himself overwhelmed amidst his other labours by a mass of unpleasant and uncongenial work and was accordingly soon moved to throw the whole burden on the State and the secular lawyers, though here again he met with distressing experiences.

He wrote to Spalatin in 1527: “We have been plagued by so many questions concerning marriage, owing to the connivance of the devil, that we have decided to leave this profane business to the profane courts. Formerly I was stupid enough to expect from mankind something more than mere humanity, and to fancy that they could be directed by the Evangel. Now, facts have shown that they despise the Evangel and insist on being compelled by the law and the sword.” He shows himself very much annoyed in this letter at the position taken up by the jurists with their “law” concerning those marriages which took place contrary to the will of the parents. The lawyers of the Wittenberg Faculty agreed with the older Church in recognising the validity of such unions. Luther, on the other hand, ostensibly on biblical grounds, wished them to be held as null, because duty to the public and the respect due to parents required it. In practice, however, he soon became aware how precarious was this position. “The Gospel teaches,” he explains to Spalatin, “that the father must be ready to give his consent when his son asks what is lawful, and that the son must obey his father; on both sides there must be good-will; this holds good with the pious. But when godless parents hear that the Gospel confirms their authority, they become tyrannical [and refuse to consent to their children’s marriage]. The children, on the other hand, learn that, according to the law of Pope and Emperor, they have the necessary permission, and so they abuse this liberty and despise their parents. Both sides are in the wrong and numerous examples of the same abound.”[97]

In the case of such dissensions between parents and children, he says in an instruction to Spalatin which was printed later, the son “must be sent to the profane, i.e. Imperial Courts of Justice, under which we live in the flesh, and thus you will be relieved of the burden.” Preachers, according to him, as “evangelists,” have nothing to do with legal questions, but merely with peaceable matters; “where there is strife and dissension the Kaiser’s tribunal [the secular courts] must decide.... Should the son get no redress from the secular court, then there is nothing for him but to submit to his father’s tyranny.”[98]

Naturally neither Luther nor the parties concerned found much satisfaction in such expedients. The handing over of the marriage questions to the State was to prove a source of endless and increasing trouble and vexation to Luther in the ensuing years, particularly in connection with the “secret” marriages just referred to. Luther even appealed from the then practice of the lawyers to the law of the old Roman Empire, which exaggerated the paternal rights to the extent of making the children’s marriages altogether dependent on the will of the parents. In the letter to Spalatin, printed in the Wittenberg edition of Luther’s German works, we find the following marginal note which expresses Luther’s opinion: “The old Imperial and Christian laws decree and ordain that children shall marry with the knowledge, consent and advice of their parents, and this the natural law also teaches. But the Pope, like the tyrant and Antichrist he is, has determined to be the only judge in questions of marriage and has abolished the obedience due by children to their parents.”[99] The truth is, that Canon Law, whilst strongly urging both sons and daughters to obey and respect their parents, nevertheless recognised as valid a marriage contract when concluded under conditions otherwise lawful, and this because it saw no reason for depriving the contracting parties of the freedom which was theirs by the natural law.

Luther, greatly incensed by the opposition of the lawyers, at length, in a sermon preached in 1544, launched forth the most solemn condemnation possible of the so-called secret unions contracted without the paternal consent. He declared: “I, Dr. Martinus, command in the name of the Lord our God, that no one shall enter into a secret engagement and then, after the event, seek the parents’ ratification ... and, in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, I condemn to the abyss of hell all those who assist in furthering such devil’s work as secret engagements. Amen.”[100]

In the same way he boasted to the Elector, that the jurists had “wanted to play havoc” with his churches “with their annoying, damnable suits which, however, I have resolved to expel from my churches as damnable and accursed to-day and for all eternity.” The principal motive for his action was the “Divine command” he had received “to preach the observance of the Fourth Commandment in these matters.”[101]

What Luther, however, was most sensitive to was that some of the Wittenberg lawyers, conformably with the traditional code, declared the marriages of priests, and consequently his own, to be invalid in law, and the children of such unions to be incapable of inheriting. He keenly felt the blow which was thus directed against himself and his children. His displeasure he gave vent to in some drastic utterances. If what the lawyers say is correct, he continues in the writing above referred to addressed to the Elector, “then I should also be obliged to forsake the Evangel and crawl back into the frock [the religious habit] in the devil’s name, by power and virtue of both ecclesiastical and secular law. Then Your Electoral Highness would have to have my head chopped off, dealing likewise with all those who have married nuns, as the Emperor Jovian decreed more than a thousand years ago” [and as the law still stood in the codes then in use].

Thoughts such as these, on the reprobation of his union with Bora by the law of the Church and of the Christian Roman Empire, stood in glaring contrast to the pleasant moods of domestic life to which he so gladly gave himself up. He sought to find solace from his public cares and conflicts in his family circle, and some compensation for the troubles which the great ones of the earth caused him in the domestic delights in which he would have wished all other fallen priests to share. He succeeded, to an extent which appeared by no means enviable to those who followed a different ideal, in forgetting his priestly state and its demands. In one of the letters just mentioned he writes as a father to Spalatin, who also had had recourse to marriage: “May you live happily in the Lord with your rib [i.e. your wife]. My little Hans sends you greetings; he is now in the month of teething and is beginning to lisp; it is delightful to see how he will leave no one in peace about him. My Katey also sends you her best wishes, above all for a little Spalatin, to teach you what she boasts of having learnt from her little Hans, i.e. the crown and joy of wedded life, which the Pope and his world were not worthy of.”[102]

What Canon Law said of the high calling of the priest and religious and of the depth of the fall of those who proved untrue to it, no longer made the slightest impression on him. It would have been in vain had a St. Jerome of olden days, a mediæval St. Bernard or a Geiler of Kaysersberg championed the cause of Canon Law against Luther and his nun in the glowing language they knew so well how to use. Luther’s own words quoted above concerning the death penalty decreed by Jovian the Christian Emperor against anyone sacrilegiously violating a nun, illuminate as with a lightning flash the antagonism between antiquity and Luther’s doings.

He asserts himself proudly because he considers his heavenly calling to expound the new Evangel, and his Divine mission, had been questioned by the lawyers who represented the authority of the State. When, in defiance of their objections against the legitimacy of his family, he drafted his celebrated will, he was careful to inform them that, for its validity, he has no need of them or of a notary; he was “Dr. Martinus Luther, God’s Notary and Witness to His Gospel,” and was “well known in heaven, on earth and in hell”; that “God had entrusted him with the Gospel of His Dear Son and had made him faithful and true to it,” for which reason, “in spite of the fury of all the devils,” many “in the world regarded him as a teacher of truth.”[103]