Collected Works of Martin Luther

by Martin Luther

  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.” 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.”

  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.” 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.

  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.

  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, 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.’” Paulsen also recalls the statement (above, ) 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 ( 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).

  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.”

  Even in his sermon on Good Works in 1520 he had made a remarkable application of the above principle of the abrogation of all authority in the case of those who ruled in defiance of God: People must not, he declares in accordance with Acts v. 29, allow themselves to be forced to act contrary to God’s law; “If a Prince whose cause is obviously unjust wishes to make war, he must not be followed or assisted, because God has commanded us not to kill our neighbour or to do him an injury.” A Protestant theologian and historian of Luther remarks on this: “Luther does not, however, explain how far the responsibility, right and duty of the subject extends, and clearly had not given this matter any careful consideration.”

  A want of “consideration” may be averred by the historian concerning all Luther’s theoretical statements on secular authority during the first period of his career. The historian will find it impossible to discover in Luther’s views on this subject the thread which, according to many modern Protestant theologians, runs through his new theories. Wilhelm Hans, a Protestant theologian, was right when he wrote in 1901: “Luther’s lack of system is nowhere more apparent than in his views concerning the authorities and their duty towards religion. The attempt to sum up in a logical system the ideas which he expressed on this subject under varying circumstances and at different times, and to bring these ideas into harmony with his practice, will ever prove a failure. It will never be possible to set aside the contradictions in his theory, and between his theory and his practice.”

  5. How the New Church System was Introduced

  A complete account of the introduction of the new ecclesiastical system will become possible only when impartial research has made known to us more fully than hitherto the proceedings in the different localities according to the records still extant.

  Some districts were thrown open to the new Evangel without any difficulty because the inhabitants, or people of influence, believed they would thus be bringing about a reformation in the true sense of the word, i.e. be contributing to the removal of ecclesiastical abuses deplored by themselves and by all men of discernment.

  In the opinion of many, to quote words written by Döllinger when yet a Catholic, “there was on the one side a large body of prelates, ecclesiastical dignitaries and beneficiaries who, too well-provided with worldly goods, lived carelessly, troubling themselves little about the distress and decay of the Church, and even looking with complacent indolence at the stormy attacks directed against her; on the other side stood a simple Augustinian monk, who neither possessed nor sought for what those men either enjoyed in plenty or were striving to obtain, but who, for that very reason, was able to wield weapons not at their command; to fight with spirit, irresistible eloquence and theological knowledge, with invincible self-confidence, steadfast courage, enthusiasm, yea, with the energy of a will called to dominate the minds of men and gifted with untiring powers for work. Germany was at that time still virgin soil; journalism was yet unknown; little, and that of no great importance, had as yet been written on subjects of public and general interest. Higher questions which might otherwise have engrossed people’s minds were not then mooted, thus people were all the more open to religious excitement, while at the same time the nation, as yet unaccustomed to pompous declamation and exaggerated rhetoric,
was all the more ready to believe every word which fell from the lips of a man who, as priest and professor of theology at one of the Universities, had, at the peril of his life, raised the most terrible charges against the Church, charges too which on the whole met with comparatively little contradiction. His accusations, his appeals to a consoling doctrine, hitherto maliciously repressed and kept under a bushel, he proclaimed in the most forcible of language, ever appealing to Christ and the gospel, and ever using figures from the Apocalypse to rate the Papacy and the state of the Church in general, figures which could not fail to fire the imagination of his readers. Luther’s popular tracts, which discussed for the first time the ecclesiastical system as a whole, with all its defects, were on the one hand couched in biblical phraseology and full of quotations and ideas from Holy Scripture, while at the same time they were the work of a demagogue, well aware of the object in view, and perfectly alive to the weaknesses of the national character. His writings could equally well be discussed in the tap-rooms and market-places of the cities or preached from the pulpits. Even more efficacious than the methods employed in propagating it were the motives embodied in the system itself; the doctrines — brought before the people in so many sermons, hymns and tracts — on justification without any preparation, by the mere imputation of the sufferings and merits of Christ, were sweet, consoling and welcome.... Then there was the new Christian freedom ... the abolition of the obligation to confess, to fast, etc. ‘Oh, what a grand doctrine that was,’ Wicel wrote at a later date, ‘not to be obliged to confess any more, nor to pray, nor to fast, nor to make offerings or give alms.... You ought surely to have been able to catch two German lands, not one only, with such bait, and to have dragged them into your net. For if you give a man his own way, it is easy to convert him.’”

  Altenburg, Lichtenberg, Schwarzburg, Eilenburg

  When the first preacher of the Lutheran faith at Altenburg in the Saxon Electorate, Gabriel Zwilling, a former comrade of Carlstadt’s, began to behave in too violent and arrogant a manner, Luther, out of consideration for his sovereign, admonished him to “lay aside all presumption” and to “leave God to do everything.” “You must not press for innovations, but, as I besought you once before, free consciences by means of the Word alone, and by exhorting to pure faith and charity.... I gave my word to the Prince that you would do this, so don’t act otherwise and bring shame on me, upon yourself and the Evangel. You see the people running after external things, sacraments and ceremonies; this you must oppose and make an end of; see that you lead them first to faith and charity in order that by their fruits they may show themselves to be a branch of our Vine.”

  As, however, the gentle methods which Luther had promised his Elector to employ did not appear to suffice, recourse was had to force. The town-council, with the support of the inhabitants of Wittenberg, boldly threw law and custom overboard.

  Prejudiced in favour of Luther, they had invited him to visit Altenburg and to preach there, and he had agreed. On that occasion Luther had recommended Gabriel Zwilling to the magistracy as resident preacher, in spite of the Anabaptist tendencies he had already shown. The Canons, who were faithful to the Church and who for centuries had the gift of the livings, opposed the appointment of Zwilling to one of the parishes. Thereupon the town-council, in a complaint composed by Luther himself, declared that, as the natural and duly appointed senate of the congregation, it had the right to decide; that the councillors were, by virtue of their office, not merely responsible for the secular government, but also were bound by the duty of “fraternal Christian charity” to interfere on behalf of the Evangel. The council, or rather Luther, also pointed out, that according to Matthew vii. every man has the right to drive away ravening wolves, that the Canons with the Provost at their head were indeed such, not having scrupled to appropriate the revenues, whilst all the while teaching false doctrine; “Scripture does not give power to a ‘Concilium,’ but to each individual Christian to judge of doctrine, to detect the wolves and to avoid them.... Each one must believe for himself and be able to distinguish between true and false doctrine.” Luther here at one and the same time, because it happens to serve his purpose, advocates an extravagant religious freedom, manifestly inconsistent with any religious commonwealth, and yet denies the unfortunate Canons any liberty whatsoever: “They must either hold their tongues or teach the pure Evangel” — or else depart elsewhere.

  Luther supported the manifesto in a letter addressed to the Elector in which he declares, that, “God Himself has abrogated all authority and power where it opposes the gospel,” though he does not say who is to decide whether anyone may quote the gospel in his own favour, and what is to be done if the authorities themselves assume the right of “deciding in matters of doctrine.”

  The Provost of the Canons, in the matter of the appointment, represented the lawful authority. To the demand of the councillors he replied by asking what they would say were he to appoint a new burgomaster at Altenburg; yet they had as little right to introduce a preacher as he would have to interfere in their affairs; further, it was not his duty to stand by and see his collegiate establishment deprived of any of its chartered rights.

  The decision came at last before the Elector. He refused to confirm the appointment of Zwilling in his office of preacher, as his turbulent Anabaptist views did not inspire confidence. In the summer of 1522, however, he bestowed the appointment on Wenceslaus Link, one of Luther’s friends, without paying any attention to the Canons and obviously acting on Luther’s advice. Link, in February, 1523, resigned the office of Vicar-General of the Augustinian Congregation, and soon after was married by Luther himself at Altenburg. The Canons protested in vain against the compulsion exercised.

  In the spring, 1524, Link succeeded in inducing the council of Altenburg to prohibit the Franciscans from celebrating Mass in public, preaching and hearing confessions. The council vindicated its action in a document — probably composed by Link — addressed to the Elector, in which from the Old and New Testament it is shown that rulers must not tolerate “idolatry.” When Spalatin, after resigning his post as Court Chaplain, became parish priest of Altenburg, he at once set about suppressing the Catholic worship even in the Collegiate Church of the town. A demand for the suppression of the “idolatrous worship” at Altenburg, which Luther had addressed to the Elector on July 20, 1525, was followed by another composed by Spalatin in October of the same year. Both were full of attacks on the un-Christian, blasphemous mischief to which an end ought to be put. On January 10, 1526, a fresh document of a similar nature, written by Spalatin and two Altenburg preachers, was forwarded to the Elector. There we read that the sovereign, if he wishes to escape the severe chastisements of God, must follow the example of the pious Jewish kings, who rooted out the abomination of idolatry. Owing to the continuance of the service in the Collegiate Church at Altenburg, the weak were exposed to spiritual danger, and he must furthermore consider that “many a poor man would readily come over to the Evangel if this miserable business were made an end of.” The utmost that could be permitted was, that the Canons should perform “their ceremonies in the most private fashion, with locked doors, no one else being admitted.”

  This petition was at once based by Luther on the general theological principles referred to above, i.e. the statement he had addressed to the Elector, declaring that, owing to the value of the Evangel, no place must be allowed in the Electorate for the practice of any religion other than the “evangelical”: Let there be but one doctrine in every place! Luther adds, that the Canons of Altenburg had indeed alleged their conscience, but that this was not a true conscience but merely a fictitious one, otherwise they would have agreed “to allow their conscience to be formed and instructed from Scripture.” This they had refused to do, and had appealed instead to traditional usage “as vouched for by the Church,” “thereby giving ample proof that their plea concerning their conscience was an invention and only brought forward for the sake of preserving appearances; for
a true conscience desires nothing so ardently as to be instructed from Scripture.” If they wished to continue publicly to blaspheme the true God by their worship, they must “prove from Scripture their right and authorisation to do so.” The Canons were convinced that there was no need for them to prove to Luther their right from the Bible, and also that the best proof would be of no avail. The decision on the validity of any such proof lay in the last instance with the Electoral Court, and he would indeed have been blind who could have expected in that quarter any judgment differing from Luther’s.

  Recourse was accordingly taken to force, and the Catholic religion was obliged to retire from its last foothold. Nevertheless, a large number of the burghers of Altenburg remained secretly faithful to the Church of their fathers. When, in 1528, the Lutheran visitors held an enquiry there, the town-councillors, who themselves were on the side of Luther, declared there were still “many Papists” in the town.

  Lichtenberg, in the Saxon Electorate, affords an example of how Catholic ecclesiastics themselves promoted the falling away of their flock by being the first to join the party of the innovators, sometimes merely in order to be able to marry. As soon as Luther had heard that Wolfgang Reissenbusch, the clerical preceptor and administrator of the property belonging to the Antonines, was showing signs of a desire for matrimony, by means of the seductive letter of March 27, 1525, already quoted above, he invited him to carry out his project boldly. After his marriage, and notwithstanding the fact of his broken vow, the monk not only retained his spiritual office, but even continued to administer the temporalities of his Order, in defiance of all justice. According to the custom now introduced, the property was placed at the disposal of the Elector. Reissenbusch enjoyed the favour of the Court, and in due course became one of the councillors of the Elector; his district was gradually won over to Lutheranism.