Catharine de Bora: Social and Domestic Scenes in the Home of Luther

by John G. Morris

All these preliminary steps were not unpremeditated by Luther. Encouraged by the example of other clergymen who had married, he now began seriously to reflect on the propriety of clerical matrimony.

In these reflections he found no difficulty as regards the secular clergy, that is, those who officiated as pastors of churches, because he considered their office as divinely instituted, and he knew from history that their celibacy was forced by the popes under the most cruel oppression. For although Paul advised the Christians of Corinth to remain unmarried during the season of persecution,[1] yet the first teachers of Christianity, and even Peter and most of the other apostles, were married men.[2] Besides, celibacy is no where regarded as a meritorious condition in the New Testament. Christ himself distinctly commends matrimonial affection and harmony, and Paul teaches that it is better to lead a married, than an unchaste life.[3] 1 Cor. 7; 2, 9, 28.

Notwithstanding all this, even during the first three centuries, a peculiar merit began to be attached to celibacy. Many bishops, who were, it is true, poorly enough supported, abstained from matrimony, or, if they were married, separated from their wives. A second marriage was particularly disapproved. But as yet there was no law on the subject, and the celibacy of the bishops was far from being general. Many of them were married men. It was only in the fourth century that it became a general custom for the bishops to lead single lives, and several councils held during this period, in this respect severely oppressed the secular clergy. At the council of Nice, held in the year 325, the first serious attempt was made to introduce celibacy, but the attempt failed through the influence of Bishop Paphnutius, of Upper Thebes. From this time, most of the bishops tried their utmost to prevent their secular clergy from marrying. Some Popes, since the end of the fourth century, such as Siricius, Innocent I., Gregory II., Nicolas I., and Leo IX. also made attempts to restrain the priests. The predictions of Paul in 1 Tim. 4; 1, 3, were soon fulfilled. Scarcely had Gregory VII. arrived at the papal dignity than he exerted all his influence to render the secular clergy independent of the state, and this he thought could be best accomplished through celibacy. The orders which he communicated to the council held at Rome in 1074 in relation to this subject were very severe; the married clergy were to be separated from their wives or be deposed, and from that time forth no man was to be ordained to the clerical office who would not bind himself to remain unmarried all his life. The opposition to this severe regulation was strong. In Germany they even committed violence on the papal ambassador, and openly reproached the Pope as a heretic, who disregarded the plain instructions of the Scriptures and introduced regulations which militated against human nature and Divine Providence, and which would lead to the most scandalous improprieties. When Archbishop Siegfried of Mainz held a council at Erfurt, and communicated the commands of the Pope to the secular clergy, the excitement was so great that he was in danger of his life. The Archbishop of Passau did not fare better. At the council of Worms, in 1076, Germans and French violently opposed the Pope, and proclaimed him as a usurper of the papal sovereignty. At a meeting in Pavia, the Italian bishops even put this Pope under the ban.

Notwithstanding all this opposition, Gregory could not be turned from his purpose. He executed his orders with all possible severity, and even demanded of the princes to forbid those priests who would not obey him from administering the sacraments or reading mass. Thus his unnatural law triumphed in 1080, though not universally, for Urban II. felt himself compelled in 1089 and 1095 to re-enact it, and it was reserved for Innocent III. in 1215 more firmly to establish celibacy as a disciplinary law, although, long before this, marriage had been declared to be a sacrament. In his address in 1520 to his Imperial Majesty and German nobility, Luther strenuously advocated the marriage of the secular clergy.

He entertained different views, however, with regard to the monastic order, and he made their celibacy a subject of investigation at Wartburg castle. Although, thought he, their office is not of divine appointment, yet they had chosen it, and had consecrated themselves to God; in most instances they had voluntarily assumed the vow, and hence were bound to keep it. Melanchthon, who had married a short time before, and Carlstadt, who followed his example a short time after, to Luther’s great joy, had both advocated the marriage of the monastic clergy in their writings, although not altogether with his approbation.[4] “Our Wittenbergers even wish the monks to have wives!” thus he wrote to Spalatin, August 6th, 1521, “but they shall force no wife on me! I wish Carlstadt’s book had more light and distinctness, for it contains much talent and learning.”[5]

But Luther’s penetrating mind soon discovered the truth. He communicated his new-formed opinion to his father, and openly came out in favor of the marriage of the monks. Although he now sturdily maintained this side of the question, yet he did not at this time feel himself inclined to matrimony. This was in the autumn of 1522.

Two years after this (1524), when he heard of a report in circulation that he was to be married, he thus wrote to Spalatin: “From the opinion which I have hitherto had, and now have, it is probable I shall never marry; not that I do not feel myself to be flesh and blood, for I am neither wood nor stone, but I feel no inclination in that way.” Still, he highly honored the married relation as an institution of God. Long after this he wrote thus to his friend Stiefel: “I did not marry as though I expected to live long, but to establish my doctrine by my example, and to leave behind me a consolation for weak consciences.” “I married also for the purpose of opposing the doctrine of Satan, and putting to shame the scandalous immorality practised in the papacy, and if I had no wife I would now marry even in my old age, just to honor the divine institution and to pour contempt on the ungodly lives of so many popish priests.”

Luther’s mind gradually underwent a change. He now secretly resolved to marry Catharine, who had already, as we shall see below, expressed a tender feeling towards him. An intimation of his purpose we have in a letter to his relative, Dr. John Ruhl, of May 4, 1525: “If I can manage to spite the devil, I will marry Catharine before I die if I hear that my enemies continue their reproaches.” From this it is evident that he would not have married, at least at this time, if the clamor of his enemies, the fear and weakness of his friends, and various other circumstances, had not determined him to take the step. The generous and public declaration of John the Constant[6] in favor of the Reformation, as well as his own opposition to the celibacy of the clergy, and the desire of gratifying the long-expressed wish of his father, hastened the consummation of his design. “Thus,” says he, “I could no longer deny this last act of obedience to my dear father, who earnestly entreated me to marry.” Besides this, he wished to set an example to others around him, for many whom he advised to marry had reproached him for writing against monastic celibacy and yet not practising his own doctrine.

In the meantime, he wrote frequently to his friends on this subject, and what gratified him much in the prospect of his marriage was the chagrin it would occasion the Romish party, and subsequent experience proved that he was not disappointed in his hopes.

Anxious as he was to consummate the event, yet his choice of Catharine was not precipitate. It was only after he was assured of the superlative excellence of her character that he offered her his hand. She conducted herself in her lowly circumstances with such a reserved and womanly dignity that he thought her to be somewhat prudish and proud, and it was only after a more intimate acquaintance that he perceived her numerous good qualities. “If I had felt a disposition to marry thirteen years ago,” says he, “I would have preferred Eva Schönfield, who is now the wife of Dr. Basilius. I did not love my Catharine at that time, for I suspected her of being proud. But it has pleased God otherwise, and, blessed be His name, all things have turned out well, for I have a pious, faithful wife, as Solomon says, Prov. 31; 11, my heart doth safely trust in her, and she contributes so much to my content and manages my affairs so prudently, that I have no need of spoil, that is, I have no temptation to envy the wealth of others or to prey upon my neighbors.”