Luther, vol. 2 of 6

by Hartmann Grisar

His experience with the fanatics, and, still more, the events of the Peasant-War, caused Luther to dwell more and more strongly on the duty and right of the authorities to exercise compulsion towards evil-doers.[912]

In the work “Against the Heavenly Prophets,” the first published in the stormy year 1525, he says: “The principal thing” required to protect the people against the devils who were teaching through the mouths of the Anabaptist prophets was, “in the case of the common people,” compulsion by the sword and by law. The authorities must force them to be at least “outwardly pious” (true Christians, of course, do all of themselves); the law with its penalties rules over them in the same way that “wild beasts are held in check by chains and bars, in order that outward peace may prevail among the people; for this purpose the temporal authorities are ordained, and it is God’s will that they be honoured and feared.”[913] The change in his views concerning the treatment of sectarians and heretics will, however, be considered elsewhere.[914]

On the other hand, it must be pointed out here that he at least allows the supreme secular power such authority as to deprecate any armed resistance to it, even where the Evangel is oppressed. In his work “On the secular power” we find him stating: “I say briefly that no Prince may make war on his over-Lord, such as the King, or the Emperor, or any other feudal superior, but must allow him to seize what he pleases. For the higher authorities must not be resisted by force, but merely by bringing them to a knowledge of the truth. If they are converted, it is well; if not, you are free from blame, and suffer injustice for God’s sake.”[915]—As early as 1520 we find him saying: “Even though the authorities act unjustly God wills that they should be obeyed without deceit, unless, indeed, they insist publicly on the doing of what is wrong towards God or men; for to suffer unjustly harms no man’s soul, indeed is profitable to it.”[916] At the outset he persisted in dissuading Princes favourable to his cause from armed resistance to the Emperor.

His earlier unwillingness, however, only contrasts the more strangely with his later attitude, particularly after the Diet of Augsburg, when his position had become stronger and when danger appeared to threaten the new Evangel from the Imperial power, even though all the Emperor’s steps were merely in accordance with the ancient laws of the Empire. Addressing the protesting Princes, he tells them they must act as so many Constantines in defence of their cause, and not wince at bloodshed in order to protect the Evangel against the furious, soul-destroying attacks of the new Licinii. His change of front in thus inciting to rebellion he covered, by declaring he was most ready to render to Cæsar the things that were Cæsar’s, but that when the Emperor forbade “what God in His Word [according to Luther’s interpretation] had taught and commanded,” then he was going beyond his province; in such a case it was well to remember that “God still retained what was His,” “and that they, the tyrants, had lost everything and suffered shipwreck.”[917] In this case the action taken by the temporal power according to law must, he says, be forcibly frustrated by the subject. New theories as to the rights of the Emperor and the Princes did their part in justifying these demands in his eyes. “Gradually,” says Fr. von Bezold, “his experience of the limitations of the Imperial power and the liberty of the Princes of the Empire brought about a change in him. Thus he became ... the father of the doctrine of the right of resistance.”[918]

In 1522 he had written in quite a different strain to his Elector. At that time the critical question of the latter’s attitude towards the Imperial authority and of the protection to be afforded Luther against the Emperor was under discussion. “In the sight of men it behoves Your Electoral Highness to act as follows: As Elector to render obedience to the power established and allow His Imperial Majesty to dispose of life and property in the towns and lands subject to Your Electoral Highness, as is right and in accordance with the laws of the Empire; nor to oppose or resist, or seek to place any obstacle or hindrance in the way of the aforesaid power should it wish to lay hands on me or kill me.... If Your Electoral Highness were a believer, you would see in this the glory of God, but since you are not yet a believer, you have seen nothing so far.”[919] This, compared to the summons to resistance, spoken of above, reads like an invitation to submit with entire patience to those who were persecuting the Evangel. It is true that the then position of affairs to some extent explains the case. The writer was well aware that the Elector might be relied upon to protect him, he also knew that a little temporary self-restraint in his demands would do his cause no harm, and that a profession of entire readiness to sacrifice himself would be most conducive to his interests.[920]

But from this time the opinion that, in the pressing interests of the gospel, it was permissible to make use of violence against the authorities and their worldly regulations, breaks out repeatedly, and, in spite of the reticence he frequently displays and of his warnings against rebellion and revolt, he is quite unable to conceal his inner feeling. Many passages of an inflammatory character have already been instanced above and might be cited here.[921]

The opposition smouldering in his breast to the conduct of the authorities in the matter of religious practices differing from their own, comes out very strongly at an early period. Though he declared that he had no wish to interfere, yet, even in 1522, he requested Frederick the Elector of Saxony, through the intermediary of Spalatin,[922] to have Masses prohibited as idolatrous, “an interference in religious matters on the part of the authorities,” as Fr. Paulsen remarks, “which it is difficult to reconcile with the position which Luther assigns to them in 1523 in his work ‘On the secular power.’”[923] Paulsen also recalls the statement (above, p. 300) that a sovereign may not even order his subjects to surrender the book of the gospels, and that whoever obeyed such an order was handing over Christ to Herod. It is true, he concludes, that here the order would have emanated from “Popish authorities.”

When the Canons of Altenburg, in accordance with their chartered rights, wished, in 1522, to resist the appointment of a Lutheran preacher in that town, neither olden law nor the orders of the authorities availed anything with Luther, as we shall see below (p. 314 ff); “against this [the introduction of the Evangel] no seals, briefs, custom or right are valid,” he writes; it was the duty of the Elector “as a Christian ruler to encounter the wolves.” Finally, we have the outburst: “God Himself has abrogated all authority and power where it is opposed to the Evangel, ‘we must obey God rather than men’” (Acts v. 29).[924]

Here we have a practical commentary on what he says when speaking of the “Word” which must make its way alone: “The Word of God is a sword, is destruction, vexation, ruin, poison, and as Amos says, like a bear in the path and a lioness in the wood.”[925]