Luther, vol. 1 of 6

by Hartmann Grisar

With reference to man’s natural powers, that cardinal point of Luther’s later teaching, neither the ability to be good and pleasing to God, nor the freedom of choosing what is right and good in spite of concupiscence, is denied.[160] Concupiscence, as he frequently admonishes us, must be driven back, “it must not be allowed the mastery,” though it will always make itself felt; it is like a Red Sea through the midst of which we must pass, refusing our consent to the temptations which press upon us like an advancing tide.[161] Luther lays great weight on the so-called Syntheresis, the inner voice which, according to the explanation of the schoolmen, he believes cries longingly to God, by whom also it is heard; it is the ineradicable precious remnant of good left in us,[162] and upon which grace acts. Man’s salvation is in his own hands inasmuch as he is able either to accept or to reject the law of God.[163] Luther also speaks of a preparation for grace (“dispositio et præparatio”) which God’s preventing, supernatural grace assists.[164] He expressly invokes the traditional theological axiom that “God’s grace is vouchsafed to everyone who does his part.”[165] He even teaches, following Occam’s school, that such self-preparation constitutes a merit “de congruo.”[166] He speaks as a Catholic of the doctrine of merit, admits the so-called thesaurus meritorum from which indulgences derive their efficacy, and, without taking offence, alludes to satisfaction (satisfactio operis),”[167] to works of supererogation,[168] as also to the place of purification in the next world (purgatorium).[169]

Regarding God’s imputing of righteousness he follows, it is true, the Occamist doctrine, and on this subject the following words are the most interesting: faith and grace by which we to-day (i.e. in the present order of things) are justified, would not justify without the intervention of the pactum Dei; i.e. of God’s mercy, who has so ordained it, but who might have ordained otherwise.[170] Friedrich Loofs rightly says regarding imputation in the Commentary on the Psalms: “It must be noted that the reputari iustum, i.e. the being-declared-justified, is not considered by Luther as the reverse of making righteous; on the contrary, the sine merito iustificari in the sense of absolvi is at the same time the beginning of a new life.”[171] “The faith,” so A. Hunzinger opines of the passages in question in the same work, “is as yet no imputative faith,” i.e. not in the later Lutheran sense.[172]

The Protestant scholar last mentioned has dissected the Commentary on the Psalms in detail; particularly did he examine its connection with the philosophical and mystical system sometimes designated as Augustinian Neo-Platonism.[173] It may be left an open question whether his complicated researches have succeeded in proving that in the Commentary—interpreted in the light of some of the older sermons and the marginal glosses in the Zwickau books—Luther’s teaching resolves itself into a “somewhat loose and contradictory mixture of four elements,” namely, Augustinian Neo-Platonism, an Augustinian doctrine on sin and grace, a trace of scholastic theology, and some of the mysticism of St. Bernard.[174] His researches and his comparison of many passages in the Commentary on the Psalms with the works of Augustine, especially with the “Soliloquia” and the book “De vera religione,” have certainly shown that Luther was indebted for his expressions and to a certain extent for his line of thought, to those works of Augustine with which he was then acquainted. He had probably been attracted by the mystical tendency of these writings, by that reflection of Platonism, which, however, neither in St. Augustine’s nor in Luther’s case, as Hunzinger himself admits, involved any real acceptance of the erroneous ideas of the heathen Neo-Platonism. Luther was weary of the dry Scholasticism he had learned at the schools and greedily absorbed the theology of the Bishop of Hippo, which appealed far more to him, though his previous studies had been insufficient to equip him for its proper understanding. His own words in 1532 express his case fairly accurately. He says: “In the beginning I devoured rather than read Augustine.”[175] In a marginal note on the Sentences of Peter Lombard he speaks, in 1509, of this Doctor as “numquam satis laudatus,” like him, he, too, would fain send the “moderni” and that “fabulator Aristoteles” about their business.[176]

The obscure and tangled mysticism which the young author of the Commentary on the Psalms built up on Augustine—whose spirit was far more profound than Luther’s—the smattering of Augustinian theology, altered to suit his controversial purposes, with which he supplemented his own scholastic, or rather Occamistic, theology, and the needless length of the work, make his Commentary into an unattractive congeries of moral, philosophical and theological thoughts, undigested, disconnected and sometimes unintelligible. Various causes contributed to this tangle, not the least being the nature of the subject itself. Most of the Psalms present all sorts of ideas and figures, and give the theological and practical commentator opportunity to introduce whatever he pleases from the stores of his knowledge. With some truth Luther himself said of his work in a letter to Spalatin, dated December 26, 1515, that it was not worth printing, that it contained too much superficial matter, and deserved rather to be effaced with a sponge than to be perpetuated by the press.[177] There is something unfinished about the work, because the author himself was still feeling his way towards that great alteration which he had at heart; as yet he has no wish to seek for a reform from without the Church, he not only values the authority of the Church and the belief she expounds, but also, on the whole, the learned tradition of previous ages with which his rather scanty knowledge of Scholasticism made him conversant. This, however, did not prevent him attacking the real or imaginary abuses of the Schoolmen, nor was his esteem for the Church and his Order great enough to hinder him from criticising, rightly or wrongly, the condition and institutions of the Church and of monasticism.

The statement made by him in 1537, that he discovered his new doctrine at the time he took his degree as Doctor, i.e. in 1512, cannot therefore be taken as chronologically accurate. His words, in a sermon preached on May 21, were: “Now we have again reached the light, but I reached it when I became a Doctor ... you should know that Christ is not sent as a judge.”[178]

3. Excerpts from the Oldest Sermons. His Adversaries

In the sermons which Luther, during his professorship, preached at Wittenberg in 1515-16, we notice the cutting, and at times ironical, censure with which he speaks to the people of the abuses and excesses which pervaded the exercise of the priestly office, particularly preaching. He is displeased with certain excesses in the veneration of the Saints, and reproves what he considers wrong in the popular celebration of the festivals of the Church and in other matters. These religious discourses contain many beautiful thoughts and give proof, as do the lectures also, of a rich imagination and great knowledge of the Bible. But even apart from the harsh denunciation of the conditions in the Church, the prevailing tone is one of too great hastiness and self-sufficiency, nor are the Faithful treated justly. It was not surprising that remarks were made, and that he was jeered at as a “greenhorn” by the listeners, who told him that he could not “convert old rogues” with that sort of thing.[179]

He complains bitterly, and with some show of reason, that at that time preaching had fallen to a very low ebb in Germany. The preachers too often treated of trivial and useless subjects, enlarged, with distinctions and sub-distinctions, on subjects belonging to the province of philosophy and theology, and lost themselves in artificial allegorical interpretations of the Bible. In their recommendation of popular devotions they sometimes went to extremes and sometimes lapsed into platitude. There was too little of the wealth of thought, power and inward unction of Brother Bertold of Regensburg and his school to be found in the pulpits of that day. Even in Luther’s own sermons during these years we meet with numerous defects of the time, barren speculations in the style of the nominalistic school through which he had passed, too much forcing and allegorising of the Bible text, and too much coarse and exaggerated declamation. To be pert and provoking was then more usual than now, and owing to his natural tendency he was very prone to assume that tone. The shyness which more recent biographers and admirers frequently ascribe to the young professor is not recognisable in his sermons. That he ever was shy can only be established by remarks dropped by Luther in later life, and, as is well known, such remarks cannot be taken as reliable sources of information concerning his early years. Were Luther’s later account correct, then we should be forced to ascribe to the young preacher and professor a burning desire to live in the solitude of his cell and to spend his days quite apart from the world and the debates and struggles going forward in the Church outside. Yet, in reality, there was nothing to which he was more inclined in his sermons than to allow his personal opinions to carry him to violent polemics against people and things displeasing to him; he was also in the habit of crediting opponents more friendly to the Church than he, or even the Church itself, with views which they certainly did not hold. Johann Mensing, one of his then pupils at the University of Wittenberg, speaks of this in words to which little attention has hitherto been paid: “I may say,” he writes, “and have often heard it myself, that when Luther had something especially good or new to say in a sermon he was wont to attribute to other theologians the opposite opinion, and in spite of their having written and taught just the same, and of his very likely taking it from them himself, to represent it as a precious thing he had just discovered and of which others were ignorant; all this in order to make a name for himself, like Herostratus, who set fire to the temple of Diana.”[180] We may also mention here a remark of Hieronymus Emser. After saying that Luther’s sermons were not those of a cleric, he adds: “I may say with truth that I have never in all my life heard such an audacious preacher.”[181] These, it is true, are testimonies from the camp of Luther’s opponents, but some passages from his early sermons will show the tone which frequently prevails in them.

Already in the Christmas sermons of 1515 Luther does not scruple to place himself, as it were, on the same footing with the prophets, wise men and those learned in the Scriptures, whose persecution Christ foretold, more particularly among the last of the three groups. Even then his view was unorthodox.

“There are some,” he says, “who by the study of Holy Scripture form themselves into teachers and who are taught neither by men nor directly by God alone.” These are the learned in the Scriptures. “They exercise themselves in the knowledge of the truth by meditation and research. Thus they become able to interpret the Bible and to write for the instruction of others.” But such men are persecuted, he continues, and, as the Lord prophesied of the prophets and wise men and scribes that they would not be received, but attacked, so is it also with me. They murmur against my teaching, as I am aware, and oppose it. They reproach me with being in error because “I preach always of Christ as the hen under whose wings all who wish to be righteous must gather.” Thus his ideas with regard to righteousness must have been looked upon as importunate or exaggerated, and, by some, in all probability, as erroneous. He immediately launches out into an apology: “What I have said is this: We are not saved by all our righteousness, but it is the wings of the hen which protect us against the birds of prey, i.e. against the devil ... but, as it was with the Jews, who persecuted righteousness, so it is to-day. My adversaries do not know what righteousness is, they call their own fancies grace. They become birds of prey and pounce upon the chicks who hope for salvation through the mercy of our hen.”[182]