Luther, vol. 1 of 6

by Hartmann Grisar

Such was the doctrine which Luther had learnt in his early days as a monk; it animated his youthful zeal for the religious life and did not interfere with his contented and happy frame of mind, as expressed in the letter of invitation to his first Mass and his conversations with Usingen.[958] The writings of St. Bernard had taught him, that in the religious life this happiness is the portion of all those who seek God. Luther knew that thousands like himself rejoiced from their hearts in the “anointed cross” of the service of God, as Bernard calls it. On the by-path he chose to follow he lost, however, his happiness and increased his doubts and inward unrest.

Luther, after forsaking the Catholic standpoint, had hitherto been tormented by anxiety as to how we can be assured of the Grace of God. Having left the secure footing of the Church’s views on nature, grace and predestination, he was now in search of a certainty even more absolute. His Commentary on Romans had concluded with the anxious question: “Who will give me the assurance that I am pleasing God by my works?” As yet he can give no other answer than that, “we must call upon God’s grace with fear and trembling and seek to render Him gracious to us by humility and self-annihilation, because all depends upon His arbitrary Will (above, p. 217 ff.). In these lectures, in the course of his gloomy and abstruse treatment of predestination, he had instructed his hearers how they must be resigned to this uncertainty concerning eternity (p. 236 ff.).

In the act of resignation he perceived various signs of predestination. He says in the Commentary on Romans: “There are three degrees in the signs of predestination. Some are content with God’s Will, but are confident they are among the elect and do not wish to be damned. Others, who stand on a higher level, are resigned and contented with God’s Will, or at least wish to be so, even though God should not choose to save them but to place them amongst the lost. The third, i.e. the last and highest degree, is to be resigned in very deed to hell if such be the Will of God, which is perhaps the case with many at the hour of death. In this way we become altogether purified from self-will and the wisdom of the flesh.”[959]

“Terrible pride prevails among the hypocrites and men of the law, who, because they believe in Christ, think themselves already saved and sufficiently righteous,” these claim to attain to grace and the Divine Sonship “by faith alone” (“ex fide tantum”), “as though we were saved by Christ without the performance of any works or acts of our own” (“sic ut ipsi nihil operentur, nihil exhibeant de fide”). Such men possess too much faith, or rather none at all.[960]

While he was thus wavering between reminiscences of the Catholic teaching and his own pseudo-mystical ideas on justification and imputation, his mind must indeed have been in a state of incessant agitation, so that uneasiness and fear became his natural element. “As we are unable to keep God’s commandments and are therefore always unrighteous, there remains nothing for us but to be in constant fear of the Judgment (‘ut iudicium semper timeamus’), and to pray for pardon, or rather for the non-imputing of our unrighteousness.” “We are to rejoice, according to the Psalmist (ii. 11), before God on account of His Mercy, but with trembling on account of the sin which deserves His Judgment.”[961]

In 1525 he wrote: To leave man no free will for what is good and to make him altogether dependent on God’s predestination “seems, it is true, cruel and intolerable; countless of the greatest minds of previous ages have taken offence at this. And who, indeed, is there whom the idea does not offend? I myself have more than once been greatly scandalised at it and plunged into an abyss of despair so that I wished I had never been created. But then I learned how wholesome despair is and how close it lies to grace.”[962]

This he “learned,” or thought he learned, through his doctrine of assurance of salvation through faith.

“The forgiveness offered us by God in His Word” (if we may here anticipate his later teaching), became for him a definite object of sanctifying and saving faith, to the extent that faith came to be identical in his eyes with fiducia.

Faith is, as he says, “a real heartfelt confidence in Christ.”[963] “He strongly emphasises at the same time the relation between what is here proposed for belief and the individual believer; I believe that God is gracious to me and forgives me. That, says Luther [later], makes the Article of the Forgiveness of Sins particularly difficult, for though the other Articles of Faith may be more difficult if once we begin to speak of them and try to understand them, yet in the Article of the Forgiveness of Sins what presents the greatest difficulty is, that ‘each one must accept this for himself in particular.’ This was hard to a man because he must stand greatly in awe of the anger of God and His Judgment; but when the Article of the Forgiveness of Sins comes home to us and we really experience its meaning, then the other Articles concerning God, the Creator, the Son of God, etc., ‘also come home to us and enter into our experience.’ And, according to Luther, true faith consists in this, that I believe and am assured that God is my God because He speaks to me and forgives my sins.”[964] While taking the acceptance of the whole of revelation for granted, he magnifies fiducial faith to such an extent, that many Protestant theologians have come to consider a trusting faith in Christ to be his only essential requirement, in fact to imagine that in this alone faith consists; claiming to be merely following Luther, they deny that the acceptance of individual points of faith, i.e. Articles of Faith, can be a necessary condition for salvation.