Luther, vol. 3 of 6

by Hartmann Grisar

The conviction that there was no chance of reunion with the existing Church, which he had reached at Augsburg, pierced him to the depths of his soul. “In his quality of theologian,” says Kawerau, “the thought of the Church’s oneness caused him to endure the bitterest agonies, particularly between 1530 and 1532”; if certain of the Catholic leaders sought to draw him over to their side, there was “some justification for their attempts,” to be accounted for by the impression he had given at Augsburg, viz. of not being quite at home among the Evangelicals.[1223] What seemed to confirm this impression, adds Kawerau, was “that Melanchthon in his printed, and still more in his epistolary communications, repeatedly gave occasion to people to think that it might be worth while approaching him with fresh proposals of conciliation.”[1224]

Of the psychological struggle hinted at by Kawerau, through which he, who, after Luther, was the chief promoter of the innovations, had to pass, it is possible to gain many a glimpse from contemporary documents.

The wrong idea which he came more and more to cherish amounted to this: The true doctrine of the Catholic Church of Christ, as against the Roman Catholic Church of the day, is that to be found “in the Epistles of the Apostles and in the recognised ecclesiastical writers.”[1225] Without succeeding in finding any position of real safety, he insists on the necessity of sharing the “consensus of the Catholic Church of Christ” and of belonging to the true, ancient and “sublime ‘cœtus ecclesiæ’ over which rules the Son of God.”[1226] Hence comes what we find in the Wittenberg certificates of Ordination which he drew up, in which the “doctrina catholicæ ecclesiæ,” taken, of course, in the above uncertain and wholly subjective sense, is declared to have been accepted by the “ordinandi” and to be the best testimony to their office. In this conception of the Church “we find the explanation of the great struggle which it cost him, when, after 1530, he had to face the fact that the schism was real and definitive.... In his conception, the true faith was thus no longer the new Lutheran understanding of the Gospel, but rather the ancient creeds.”[1227]

Cordatus was not so far wrong when he declared, referring to Melanchthon, that at Wittenberg there were men “learned in languages who would rather read and listen to a dead Erasmus than a living Luther.”[1228]

Erasmus himself saw in Melanchthon’s exposition of Romans and in the dedication of the same which the author privately sent him on October 25, 1532, a “clear corroboration of the suspicion that he had come to dislike his own party” (“se suorum pigere”).[1229] In the aforesaid dedication Melanchthon had complained, as he often did, of the religious “controversies and quarrels” which were quite repugnant to him: “As neither side cares for moderation, both have refused to listen to us.” These and such-like admissions “caused Erasmus to think that he was desirous of forsaking the evangelical camp.”[1230] In the very year of Erasmus’s death he wrote to him: “I cordially agree with you on most of the questions under discussion.”[1231] The fondness of the Wittenbergers for the crude and paradoxical, so he adds, discreetly veiling his meaning in Greek, failed entirely to appeal to him; he was anxious to find “better-sounding” formulæ in which to embody doctrine, but here he was faced by “danger.” He bad reached an age when lie had learnt to treat questions of faith more gingerly than of yore.[1232] “Thus, in the presence of Erasmus, he here repudiates the Melanchthon of the early years of the Reformation.”[1233]

At Wittenberg there was then a rumour that Melanchthon intended to migrate elsewhere, because he no longer agreed with Luther and his set.[1234] That such was actually his intention has since been confirmed.

Only in 1900 was a letter unearthed—written by Melanchthon in this critical period (1532), to Andreas Cricius, Catholic bishop of Plozk, and an ardent Humanist—in which he deplores in touching language the “unhappy fate” which had embroiled him in the religious “quarrels.”[1235] In the beginning he had taken part in the movement started by Luther under the impression that “certain points connected with piety would be emphasised, and this had, all along, been his object”; his efforts had ever been to “moderate” and to “put an end to controversy”; he also exerted himself “to vindicate the importance of the Church’s constitution.”[1236] He expresses his readiness to accept a post of professor which the Bishop might see fit to offer, in which he might find a refuge from the storms at Wittenberg: “If you will point out to me a haven of refuge where I can promote and advance the learning so dear to us both, and in which I have acquired some little proficiency, then I will submit to your authority.” In the same letter, however, he points out that he could never approve of the “cruelty of the opponents” of the Protestant cause, nor would the public decision to be expected fall out in accordance with their ideas; yet neither did he agree with those who wished to destroy the substance of the Church. Cricius appears to have pointed out to him, in a letter now no longer extant, that, before he, the Bishop, could do anything it would be necessary for Melanchthon to sever his connection with the Evangelicals. This he could not bring himself to do. “If you have a more feasible proposal to make, then I will accept it as a Divine call.”[1237]

Shortly before this, on January 31, 1532, Melanchthon had expressed the wish to Duke Magnus of Mecklenburg, on the occasion of the re-establishment of the University of Rostock, that a “quiet spot might be found for him,” lamenting that his time was taken up in matters “altogether repugnant to my character and the learned labours I have ever loved.”[1238]