The Roman Church does not operate on evangelical principles. Does it succeed better in cultivating true holiness among its members by its system of penances and its teaching of the meritoriousness of men's acts of piety? Catholics say to us sneeringly: It is easy to have faith; it is very convenient, when you wish to indulge, or have indulged, some passion, to remember that there is grace for forgiveness. But is any great difficulty connected with going through a penance that the priest has imposed, buying a wax candle, reciting sixteen Paternosters and ten Ave Marias, and then sitting down and saying to yourself: "Good boy! you've done it, you have squared your account again with the Almighty"? What sanctifying virtue lies in abstaining from beefsteak on Friday? Rome nowhere has improved men by her mechanical piety. What she has accomplished was made possible by the fear of purgatorial torments, by slavish dread of her mysterious powers, by ambition and bigotry. We would not exchange our abused treasures for her system of workmongery.
But the Catholic charge of tendencies to lawlessness that are said to be contained in. Luther's teaching of faith without works are more serious. Luther is cited by them as declaring that one may commit innumerable sins, and they will not harm one as long as one keeps on believing in the grace of forgiveness. It is true, Luther has spoken words to this effect, and that, on quite a number of occasions. Worse than that, what Luther has said is actually true. As a matter of fact, no sin can deprive the believer of salvation. There is only one sin that ultimately damns, final impenitence and unbelief, by which is understood the rejection of the atonement which Christ offered for the sins of the world. That atonement is actually the full satisfaction rendered to our Judge for all the sins which we have done, are doing, and will be doing till the end of our lives. For the person that dies a perfect saint, sinless and impeccable, is still to be born. The comfort that I derive from my Redeemer to-day will be my comfort to-morrow, that will be my only prop and stay in my dying hour. I shall need Him every hour. This is a perfectly Christian thought. St. John writes: "My little children, these things write I unto you that ye sin not. And if any man sin,"— mark this well: "If any man sin," though he ought not to sin,—what does the apostle say to him? He does not say: Then you are damned! or: It will require so many fasts, masses, and candles to restore you! but this is what he says: "If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous; and He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world." (1 John 2, 1. 2.) John, then, must be included in the Catholic indictment of Luther. Luther would not have been a preacher of the genuine and full Gospel if he had not declared the impossibility of any sin or any number of sins depriving a believer of salvation.
But if the Catholics mean to say that Luther's evangelical declaration means that no believer can fall from grace by sinning, that he may sin and remain in a state of grace,—that is simply slander. Luther holds, indeed, that a person does not cease to be a Christian by every slip and fault, but he insists that no dereliction of duty, no deviation from the rule of godly living can be treated with indifference. It must be repented of, God's forgiveness must be sought, and only in this way will the Holy Spirit again be bestowed on the sinner. God may bear awhile with a Christian who has fallen into sin, but the backslider has no pleasant time with his God while he stays a backslider. This being a question of every-day, practical Christianity, Luther frequently touches this subject in his sermons, both in the Church Postil, the House Postil, and in his occasional sermons. Luther's Catholic critics could disabuse their mind about the tendencies to lawlessness in Luther's teaching if they would look up references such as these: 9, 730. 1456 f.; 11, 1790; 12, 448. 433; 13, 394; 6, 294. 1604. In one of these references (9, 1456) Luther comments on 1 John 3, 6: "Whosoever abideth in Him sinneth not; whosoever sinneth hath not seen Him, neither known Him," as follows: "'Seeing' and 'knowing' in the phraseology of John is as much as believing. `That every one which seeth the Son, and believeth on Him, may have everlasting life' (John 6, 40). 'This is life eternal, that they might know Thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent.' Accordingly, he that sins does not believe in Him; for faith and sin cannot coexist. We may fall, but we may not cling to sin. The kingdom of Christ is a kingdom of righteousness, not of sin." In the Smalcald Articles Luther says: "But if certain sectarists would arise, some of whom are perhaps already present, and in the time of the insurrection of the peasants came to my view, holding that all those who have once received the Spirit or the forgiveness of sins, or have become believers, even though they would afterwards sin, would still remain in the faith, and sin would not injure them, and cry thus: 'Do whatever you please; if you believe, it is all nothing; faith blots out all sins,' etc. They say, besides, that if any one sins after he has received faith and the Spirit, he never truly had the Spirit and faith. I have seen and heard of many men so insane, and I fear that such a devil is still remaining in some. If, therefore, I say, such persons would hereafter also arise, it is necessary to know and teach that if saints who still have and feel original sin, and also daily repent and strive with it, fall in some way into manifest sins, as David into adultery, murder, and blasphemy, they cast out faith and the Holy Ghost. For the Holy Ghost does not permit sin to have dominion, to gain the upper hand so as to be completed, but represses and restrains it so that it must not do what it wishes. But if it do what it wishes, the Holy Ghost and faith are not there present. For St. John says (1. Ep. 3, 9): 'Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin, . . . and he cannot sin.' And yet that is also the truth which the same St. John says (1. Ep. 1, 8): 'If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.'" (Part III, Art. 3, §§ 42-45; p. 329.) The Lutheran Church has received this statement of Luther into her confessional writings. This is the Luther of whom a modern Catholic critic says: "This thought of the all-forgiving nature of faith so dominated his mind that it excluded the notion of contrition, penance, good works, or effort on the part of the believer, and thus his teaching destroyed root and branch the whole idea of human culpability and responsibility for the breaking of the Commandments."
It is amazing boldness in Catholics to prefer this charge against Luther, when they themselves teach a worse doctrine than they impute to Luther. The Council of Trent in its Sixth Session, Canon 15, also in its Sixteenth Session, Canon 15, Coster in his Enchiridion, in the chapter on Faith, p. 178, Bellarminus on Justification, chapter 15, declare it to be Catholic teaching that the believer cannot lose his faith by any, even the worst, sin he may commit. They speak of believing fornicators, believing adulterers, believing thieves, believing misers, believing drunkards, believing slanderers, etc. The very teaching which Catholics falsely ascribe to Luther is an accepted dogma of their own Church. Their charge against Luther is, at best, the trick of crying, "Hold thief!" to divert attention from themselves.
But did not Luther in the plainest terms advise his friends Weller and Melanchthon to practise immoralities as a means for overcoming their despondency? Is he not reported in his Table Talk to have said that looking at a pretty woman or taking a hearty drink would dispel gloomy thoughts? that one should sin to spite the devil? Yes; and now that these matters are paraded in public, it is best that the public be given a complete account of what Luther wrote to Weller and Melanchthon. There are three letters extant written to Weller during Luther's exile at Castle Coburg while the Diet of Augsburg was in progress. On June 19, 1530, Luther writes: "Grace and peace in Christ! I have received two letters from you, my dear Jerome [this was Weller's first name], both of which truly delighted me; the second, however, was more than delightful because in that you write concerning my son Johnny, stating that you are his teacher, and that he is an active and diligent pupil. If I could, I would like to show you some favor in return; Christ will recompense you for what I am too little able to do. Magister Veit has, moreover, informed me that you are at times afflicted with the spirit of despondency. This affliction is most harmful to young people, as Scripture says: 'A broken spirit drieth the bones' (Prov. 17, 22). The Holy Spirit everywhere forbids such melancholy, as, for instance, in Eccles. 11., 9: 'Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth,' and in the verse immediately following: 'Remove sorrow from thy heart, and put away evil from thy flesh.' Ecclesiasticus, likewise, says, chap. 30, 22-25: 'The gladness of the heart is the life of man, and the joyfulness of a man prolongeth his days. Love thine own soul, and comfort thy heart, remove sorrow far from the; for sorrow hath killed many, and there is no profit therein. Envy and wrath shorten the life, and carefulness bringeth age before the time. A cheerful and good heart will have a care of his meat and diet.' Moreover, Paul says 2 Cor. 7, 10: 'The sorrow of the world worketh death.' Above all, therefore, you must firmly cling to this thought, that these evil and melancholy thoughts are not of God, but of the devil; for God is not a God of melancholy, but a God of comfort and gladness, as Christ Himself says: 'God is not the God of the dead, but of the living' (Matt. 22, 32). What else does living mean than to be glad in the Lord? Accordingly, become used to different thoughts, in order to drive away these evil thoughts, and say: The Lord has not sent you. This chiding which you experience is not of Him who has called you. In the beginning the struggle is grievous, but by practise it becomes more easy. You are not the only one who has to endure such thoughts, all the saints were afflicted by them, but they fought against them and conquered. Therefore, do not yield to these evils, but meet them bravely. The greatest task in this struggle is not to regard these thoughts, not to explore them, not to pursue the matters suggested, but despise them like the hissing of a goose and pass them by. The person that has learned to do this will conquer; whoever has not learned it will be conquered. For to muse upon these thoughts and debate with them means to stimulate them and make them stronger. Take the people of Israel as an example: they overcame the serpents, not by looking at them and wrestling with them, but by turning their eyes away from them and looking in a different direction, namely, at the brazen serpent, and they conquered. In this struggle that is the right and sure way of winning the victory. A person afflicted with such thoughts said to a certain wise man: What evil thoughts come into my mind! He received the answer: Well, let them pass out again. That remark taught the person a fine lesson. Another answered the same question thus: You cannot keep the birds from flying over your head, but you can keep them from building their nests in your hair. Accordingly, you will do the correct thing when you are merry and engage in some pleasant pastime with some one, and not scruple afterwards over having done so. For God is not pleased with sadness, for which there is no reason. The sorrow over our sins is brief and at the same time is made pleasant to us by the promise of grace and the forgiveness of sins. But the other sorrow is of the devil and without promise; it is sheer worry over useless and impossible things which concern God. I shall have more to say to you when I return. Meanwhile give my greetings to your brother; I began writing to him, but the messenger who is to take this letter along is in a hurry. I shall write to him later, also to Schneidewein and others. I commend your pupil to you. May the Spirit of Christ comfort and gladden your heart! Amen.' (21a, 1487 ff.)
The second letter to Weller was presumably written some time in July. It reads as follows: "Grace and peace in Christ. My dearest Jerome, you must firmly believe that your affliction is of the devil, and that you are plagued in this manner because you believe in Christ. For you see that the most wrathful enemies of the Gospel, as, for instance, Eck, Zwingli, and others, are suffered to be at ease and happy. All of us who are Christians must have the devil for our adversary and enemy, as Peter says: 'Your adversary, the devil, goeth about,' etc., 1 Pet. 5, 8. Dearest Jerome, you must rejoice over these onslaughts of the devil, because they are a sure sign that you have a gracious and merciful God. You will say: This affliction is more grievous than I can bear; you fear that you will be overcome and vanquished, so that you are driven to blasphemy and despair. I know these tricks of Satan: if he cannot overcome the person whom he afflicts at the first onset, he seeks to exhaust and weaken him by incessantly attacking him, in order that the person may succumb and acknowledge himself beaten. Accordingly, whenever this affliction befalls you, beware lest you enter into an argument with the devil, or muse upon these death-dealing thoughts. For this means nothing else than to yield to the devil and succumb to him. You must rather take pains to treat these thoughts which the devil instils in you with the severest contempt. In afflictions and conflicts of this kind contempt is the best and easiest way for overcoming the devil. Make up your mind to laugh at your adversary, and find some one whom you can engage in a conversation. You must by all means avoid being alone, for then the devil will make his strongest effort to catch you; he lies in wait for you when you are alone. In a case like this the devil is overcome by scorning and despising him, not by opposing him and arguing with him. My dear Jerome, you must engage in merry talk and games with my wife and the rest, so as to defeat these devilish thoughts, and you must be intent on being cheerful. This affliction is more necessary to you than food and drink. I shall relate to you what happened to me when I was about your age. When I entered the cloister, it happened that at first I always walked about sad and melancholy, and could not shake off my sadness. Accordingly, I sought counsel and confessed to Dr. Staupitz, —I am glad to mention this man's name. I opened my heart to him, telling him with what horrid and terrible thoughts I was being visited. He said in reply: Martin, you do not know how useful and necessary this affliction is to you; for God does not exercise you thus without a purpose. You will see that He will employ you as His servant to accomplish great things by you. This came true. For I became a great doctor—I may justly say this of myself—; but at the time when I was suffering these afflictions I would never have believed that this could come to pass. No doubt, that is what is going to happen to you: you will become a great man. In the mean time be careful to keep a brave and stout heart, and impress on your mind this thought that such remarks which fall from the lips chiefly of learned and great men contain a prediction and prophecy. I remember well how a certain party whom I was comforting for the loss of his son said to me: Martin, you will see, you will become a great man. I often remembered this remark, for, as I said, such remarks contain a prediction and a prophecy. Therefore, be cheerful and brave, and cast these exceedingly terrifying thoughts entirely from you. Whenever the devil worries you with these thoughts, seek the company of men at once, or drink somewhat more liberally, jest and play some jolly prank, or do anything exhilarating. Occasionally a person must drink somewhat more liberally, engage in plays, and jests, or even commit some little sin from hatred and contempt of the devil, so as to leave him no room for raising scruples in our conscience about the most trifling matters. For when we are overanxious and careful for fear that we may be doing wrong in any matter, we shall be conquered. Accordingly, if the devil should say to you: By all means, do not drink! you must tell him: Just because you forbid it, I shall drink, and that, liberally. In this manner you must always do the contrary of what Satan forbids. When I drink my wine unmixed, prattle with the greatest unconcern, eat more frequently, do you think that I have any other reason for doing these things than to scorn and spite the devil who has attempted to spite and scorn me? Would God I could commit some real brave sin to ridicule the devil, that he might see that I acknowledge no sin and am not conscious of having committed any. We must put the whole law entirely out of our eyes and hearts,—we, I say, whom the devil thus assails and torments. Whenever the devil charges us with our sins and pronounces us guilty of death and hell, we ought to say to him: I admit that I deserve death and hell; what, then, will happen to me? Why, you will be eternally damned! By no means; for I know One who has suffered and made satisfaction for me. His name is Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Where He abides, there will I also abide." (21a, 1532 ff.)
The third letter to Weller is dated August 15th. It reads as follows: "Grace and peace in Christ. I have forgotten, my dear Jerome, what I wrote you in my former letter concerning the spirit of melancholy, and I may now be writing you the same things and harping on the same string. Nevertheless, I shall repeat what I said, because we all share each other's afflictions, and as I am suffering in your behalf, so you, no doubt, are suffering in mine. It is one and the same adversary that hates and persecutes every individual brother of Christ. Moreover, we are one body, and in this body one member suffers for every other member, and that, for the sole reason that we worship Christ. Thus it happens that one is forced to bear the other's burden. See, then, that you learn to despise your adversary. For you have not sufficiently learned to understand this spirit, who is an enemy to spiritual gladness. You may rest assured that you are not the only one who bears this cross and are not suffering alone. We are all bearing it with you and are suffering with you. God, who commanded: 'Thou shalt not kill,' certainly declares by this commandment that He is opposed to these melancholy and death-bringing thoughts, and that He, on the contrary, would have us cherish lively and exceedingly cheerful thoughts. So the Psalmist declares, saying: 'In His favor is life,' Ps. 30, 5 [Luther understands this to mean: He favors life] and in Ezekiel God says: 'I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live' (chap. 33, 11). On the other hand, etc. Now, then, since it is certain that such melancholy is displeasing to God, we have this reliable comfort that if this demon cannot be entirely removed from us, divine strength will be supplied to us, so that we may not feel the affliction so much. I know that it is not in our power to remove these thoughts at our option, but I also know that they shall not gain the upper hand; for we are told: 'He shall not suffer the righteous to be moved,' if we only learn to cast our burden upon Him. The Lord Jesus, the mighty Warrior and unconquerable Victor, will be your aid. Amen." (21a, 1543 f.)
These three letters constitute the whole evidence for the Catholic charge against Luther that he offered advice to Weller that is immoral and demoralizing. The indictment culminates in these three distinct points: Luther advises Weller 1. to drink freely and be frivolous; 2. to commit sin to spite the devil; 3. to have no regard for the Ten Commandments. Since we shall take up the last point in a separate chapter, we limit our remarks to the first two points.
When Luther advises Weller to drink somewhat more liberally, that does not mean that Luther advises Weller to get drunk. This, however, is exactly what Luther is made to say by his Catholic critics. They make no effort to understand the situation as it confronted Luther, but pounce upon a remark that can easily be understood to convey an offensive meaning. Neither does what Luther says about his own drinking mean that he ever got drunk. We have spoken of this matter in a previous chapter, and do not wish to repeat. Luther's remarks about jesting, merry plays, and jolly pranks in which he would have Weller engage are likewise vitiated by the Catholic insinuation that he advises indecent frivolities, yea, immoralities. Why, all the merriment which he urges upon Weller is to take place in Luther's home and family circle, in the presence of Luther's wife and children, in the presence of Weller's little pupil Hans, who at that time was about four years old. The friends of the family members of the Faculty at the University, ministers, students who either stayed at Luther's home, like Weller, or frequently visited there, are also included in this circle whose company Weller is urged to seek. Imagine a young man coming into this circle drunk, or half drunk, and disporting himself hilariously before the company! We believe that not even all Catholics can be made to believe the insinuations of their writers against Luther when all the facts in the case are presented to them.
Let us, moreover, remind ourselves once more that, to measure the social proprieties of the sixteenth century by modern standards, is unfair. A degree of culture in regard to manners and speech can be reached by very refined people that grows away from naturalness. The old Latin saying: Naturalia non sunt turpia (We need not feel ashamed of our natural acts), will never lose its force. There are expressions in Luther's writings—and in the Bible—that nowadays are considered unchaste, but are in themselves chaste and pure. Even the extremest naturalness that speaks with brutal frankness about certain matters is a better criterion of moral purity than the supersensitive prudishness that squirms and blushes, or pretends to blush, at the remotest reference to such matters. It all depends on the thoughts which the heart connects with the words which the mouth utters. This applies also to the manner in which former centuries have spoken about drinking. We sometimes begin to move uneasily, as if something Pecksniffian had come into our presence, when we behold the twentieth century sitting in judgment on the manners and morals of the sixteenth century.