Luther, vol. 3 of 6

by Hartmann Grisar

Neither could the want of a call be supplied by the authorisation of the Wittenberg Council, upon which at times Luther was wont to lay stress. He himself hesitated to allow that magistrates or Princes could give a call, particularly where the teaching of any of those thus appointed by the magistrates ran counter to his own. Even though their teaching agreed entirely with the views of the secular authorities, their mission was in his eyes quite invalid. He even had frequent cause to complain, that the Evangel was greatly hampered by the interference of the secular authorities and by their sending out as preachers those who had no real call, and were utterly unfitted for the office.

After what has gone before, we can readily understand how Luther came to pass over in silence the question of his mission and to appeal directly to his preaching of the truth as the sign of his vocation; he does not seem to have perceived that the main point was to establish a criterion for the recognition of the truth, short of which anyone would be at liberty to set up his pet error as the “truth.” “The first,” though not the only condition, was, he declared, “that the preacher should have an office, be convinced that he was called and sent, and that what he did was done for the sake of his office”; seeing, however, that even the Papists fulfilled these conditions, Luther usually required in addition that the preachers “be certain they have God’s Word on their side.”[446]

In 1522 he declared any questioning of his vocation to be mere perversity, for, of his call, no creature had a right to judge. We cannot but quote again this assurance, “My doctrine is not to be judged by any man, nor even by the angels; because I am certain of it, I will judge you and the angels likewise, as St. Paul says (Gal. i. 8), and whosoever does not accept my teaching will not arrive at blessedness. For it is God’s and not mine, therefore my judgment is God’s and not mine.”[447]

Such statements are aids to the understanding of his mode of thought, but there are other traits in his mental history relating to the confirmation of his Divine calling.

Such, for instance, is his account of the miracles by which the flight of certain nuns from their convents was happily accomplished.

The miracle which was wrought on behalf of the nun Florentina, and in confirmation of the new Evangel, is famous. Luther himself, in March, 1524, published the story according to the account given by the nun herself, and dedicated it to Count Mansfeld.[448] As this circumstance, and also the Preface, shows, he took the matter very seriously, and was entirely persuaded that it was a visible “sign from heaven.” Yet it is perfectly plain, even from his own pamphlet, that the occurrence was quite simple and natural.

Florentina of Upper-Weimar had been confided in early childhood to the convent of Neu-Helfta, at Eisleben, to be educated; later, after the regulation “year of probation,” she took the vows, probably without any real vocation. Having become acquainted with some of the writings of the Reformers, she entered into correspondence with Luther, and, one happy day in February, 1524, thanks to “visible, Divine assistance,” escaped from her fellow-nuns—who, so she alleged, had treated her cruelly—because, as she very naively remarks,[449] “the person who should have locked me in left the cells open.” She betook herself to Luther at Wittenberg. Luther adds nothing to the bare facts; he has no wish to deceive the reader by false statements. Yet, speaking of the incident, he says in the Introduction: “God’s Word and Work must be acknowledged with fear, nor ... may His signs and wonders be cast to the winds.” Godless people despised God’s works and said: This the devil must have done. They did not “perceive God’s action, or recognise the work of His Hands. So is it ever with God’s miracles.” Just as the Pharisees disregarded Christ’s driving out of devils and raising of the dead, and only admitted those things to be miracles which they chose to regard as such, so it is still to-day. Hence no heed would be paid to this work of God by which Florentina “had been so miraculously rescued from the jaws of the devil.” If noisy spirits, or Papists with their holy water, performed something extraordinary, then, of course, that was a real miracle. He proceeds: “But we who, by God’s Grace, have come to the knowledge of the Evangel and the truth, are not at liberty to allow such signs, which take place for the corroboration of the Evangel, to pass unnoticed. What matters it that those who neither know, nor desire to know, the Evangel do not recognise it as a sign, or even take it for the devil’s work?”[450]

The use of an argument so puerile, and Luther’s confident assumption of an extraordinary interference of Divine Omnipotence suspending the laws of nature (which is what a miracle amounts to), all this could only arouse painful surprise in the minds of those of his readers who were faithful to the Church. Luther was here the victim of a mystical delusion only to be accounted for by his dominant idea of his relation to God and the Church.

When, in the same work, he goes on to tell his readers that: “God has certainly wrought many similar signs during the last three years, which shall be described in due season”; or that he merely recounted Florentina’s escape to Count Mansfeld as “a special warning from God” against the nunneries, which “God had made manifest in their own country,” we see still more plainly the extent and depth of his pseudo-mystical views concerning the miracles wrought on behalf of his Evangel.

Concerning his own ability to work miracles, he is reticent and cautious. It is true that, to those who are ready to believe in him, he confidently promises God’s wonderful intervention should the need arise; the miraculous power, so far as it concerns himself, he represents, however, as bound by a wise economy, and, also, by his own desire of working merely through the Word.