If, in order to estimate the actual extent of the reaction in Luther’s mind, we compare his earlier with his later years, we find in the period previous to 1522 a seething, contradictory mixture of radicalism and positive elements.
We say a mixture, for it is not in accordance with the historical sources to say that, in those first stormy years of Luther’s career, what he stood for was a mere religion of humanity, or that his mode of thought was quite unchristian. Had this been the case, then the contrast with his later period would indeed be glaring. As it is, however, Luther’s statements, as previously given, prove that, in spite of certain discordant voices, his intention had ever been to preserve everything in Christianity which he regarded as really positive, i.e. everything which in his then state of thought and feeling he regarded as essential. Indeed, he was even disposed to exaggerate the importance of a positive faith in Christ and man’s dependence upon God at the expense of man’s natural power of reason. “In spite of all his calls for freedom and of his pronounced individualism” he preached an extravagant “dependence upon God.” So far was he from the slightest tendency to embracing a religion of pure reason that he could not find terms sufficiently opprobrious to bestow on reason. We also know that he did not evolve his doctrine of Justification in the second or so-called reaction period, as has recently been stated in order to accentuate the contrast, but in the first period and in the quite early stage of his development.
His Latin Commentary on Galatians (1519), with the new doctrine of Justification, expresses faith in the Redeemer and His Grace in terms of startling force; he requires of the children of God the fruits of Grace, and attention to every word of Scripture.
After that year and till 1521, the “Operationes in Psalmos” prove both his desire for a positive religion and his own earnestness in directing others to lead a Christian life; the doctrine of Justification therein advocated was admitted by him, even in his old age, to have been “faithfully set forth.”
As other examples which certainly do not go to prove any conscious tendency towards theological radicalism, we may mention his work on the Ten Commandments and the Our Father, which he published in 1520 for the unlearned and for children; the sermons, which he continued the whole year through; various discourses which he published in 1519, such as that on the Twofold Justice, in which he treats of the indwelling of Christ in man; that on Preparation for Death, where he inculcates the use of Confession, of the Supper and even of Extreme Unction, teaching that hope is to be placed in Christ alone, and that Saints are to be honoured as followers of Christ; finally, many other writings, sermons, letters, already dealt with, dating from the time prior to the change.
In view of the statements of this sort with which Luther’s early works teem we cannot accept the assertion that the words “Christ, Gospel, Faith and Conscience” were merely intended by Luther to lend a “semblance of religion” to his negations, and were, on his lips, mere biblical phrases. Louis Saltet, a Catholic historian of the Church, is right in his opinion concerning this new theory: “A negative Lutheranism dominant from 1517 to 1521 is something not vouched for by history”; that the author of the new teaching “had arrived at something very much like theological nihilism is a supposition which there is nothing to prove.”
As for Luther’s then attitude towards the Bible, he actually exaggerates its importance at the expense of reason by asserting that reason, whilst well aware of the contradictions and the foolishness of the truths of revelation, was nevertheless obliged to accept them. The incomprehensibility, ever taught by theologians, of many of the mysteries of the faith, for the understanding of which human reason alone does not suffice, Luther represents as an open contradiction with reason; reason and philosophy, owing to original sin, must necessarily be in opposition to God, and hence faith does actual violence to reason, forcing it to submit, contrary to its present nature and to that of man. Hence, in his estimate of Holy Scripture, far from being a rationalist, he was, as a modern Protestant theologian puts it, really an “irrationalist,” holding as he did that an “unreasonable obedience to Holy Scripture” was required of us. According to this same theologian, Luther starts from “an irrational conception of God’s veracity,” indeed it is God, Who, according to Luther, “by the gift of faith, produces in man the irrational belief in the truth of the whole Divine Word.” Thus does Luther reach his “altogether irrational, cut-and-dry theology.” If the Wittenberg Professor asserts later, that no religion is so foolish and contrary to reason as Christianity, and that nevertheless he believes “in one Jew, Who is called and is Jesus Christ,” this belief, so singularly expressed, was already present to him in his first period, and the same may be said, so the authority above referred to declares, of his apparent adoption in later years of more positive views, “since Luther’s theological convictions never underwent any essential change.”
If from the positive we pass to the negative side of Luther’s teaching, we do indeed find the latter more predominant during the first period of his career. An almost revolutionary assertion of religious freedom is found side by side with the above utterances on faith, so that Adolf Harnack could with some justice say that “Kant and Fichte both are concealed in this Luther.”
“Neither Pope, nor bishop, nor any man,” according to what Luther then says, “has a right to dictate even a syllable to the Christian without his own consent.” If you have grasped the Word in faith, then “you have fulfilled all the commandments and must be free from all things”; the believer becomes “spiritually lord of all,” and by virtue of his priestly dignity, “he has power over all things.” “No laws can be imposed upon Christians by any authority whatsoever, neither by men, nor by angels, except with their own consent, for we are free of all things.” “What is done otherwise is gross tyranny.... We may not become the servants of men.” “But few there are who know the joy of Christian liberty.”
Applying this to faith and the interpretation of Scripture, he says, for instance, in 1522: “Formerly we were supposed to have no authority to decide,” but, by the Gospel which is now preached, “all the Councils have been overthrown and set aside”; no one on earth has a right to decree what is to be believed. “If I am to decide what is false doctrine, then I must have the right to judge.” Pope and Councils may enact what they will, “but I have my own right to judge, and I may accept it or not as I please.” At the hour of death, he continues, each one must see for himself how he stands; “you must be sharp enough to decide for yourself that this is right and that wrong, otherwise it is impossible for you to hold your own.” “Your head is in danger, your life is at stake; God must speak within your breast and say: ‘This is God’s Word,’ otherwise all is uncertain. Thus you must be convinced within yourself, independent of all men.”
The individualistic standpoint could scarcely be expressed more strongly. The appeal to the voice of God “speaking in the heart” renders it all the more forcible by introducing a pseudo-mystic element. It is an individualism which might logically be made to justify every form of unbelief. In such devious paths as these did Luther lose himself when once he had set aside the doctrinal authority of the Church.
In his practical instructions and in what he says on the most important points of the doctrine of salvation, he ever arrogates to himself a liberty which is in reality mere waywardness.
If the Sacraments were committed to the Church by her Divine Founder, then she must put the faithful under the obligation of making use of them in the way Christ intended; she may not, for instance, leave her subjects free to bring their children to be baptised or not, to confess or not to do so, to receive the Sacrament of the Altar or to refrain from receiving it altogether. She may, indeed she must, exercise a certain compulsion in this respect by means of ecclesiastical penalties. Luther, however, refused to hear of the Church and her authority, or of any duty of obedience on the part of the faithful, the result being that the freedom which he proclaimed nullified every obligation with respect
to the Sacraments.
In the booklet which he composed in the Wartburg, “Von der Beicht ob der Bapst Macht habe zu gepieten” (1521), wherein he sets aside the duty of Confession, he says of the use of the Sacraments, without troubling to exclude even Baptism: “He [man] is at liberty to make use of Confession if, as, and where he chooses. If he does not wish you may not compel him, for no one has a right to or ought to force any man against his will. Absolution is nevertheless a great gift of God. In the same way no man can, or ought to, be forced to believe, but everyone should be instructed in the Gospel and admonished to believe; though he is to be left free to obey or not to obey. All the Sacraments should be left optional to everyone. Whoever does not wish to be baptised, let him be. Whoever does not wish to receive the Sacrament, has a right not to receive; therefore, whoever does not wish to confess is free before God not to do so.”
The receiving of Holy Communion, he declared then and on other occasions, was to remain optional, although in later years he was most severe in insisting upon it. Concerning this Sacrament, at the commencement of 1520 in his “Erklerung etlicher Artickel,” he said that Christ had not made the reception of the Sacrament compulsory; reception under one kind or under both was not prescribed, although “it would be a good thing to receive under both kinds.”
May we, however, say that Luther made the reception of the Sacrament of Baptism entirely optional? Did he go so far as to consider Baptism as something not necessary? The passage just quoted, which does away so thoroughly with the duty of Confession and instances Baptism as a parallel case, is certainly somewhat surprising with regard to Baptism. Luther’s train of thought in the passage in question is, however, rather confused and obscure. Is he referring to the liberty of the unbaptised to receive or not receive the Sacrament of Baptism, or to the deferring of Baptism, whether in the case of the adult or in that of the children of Christian parents?
He certainly always held Baptism itself to be absolutely essential for salvation; only where it could not be had, was faith able to produce its effects. Hence, in the above passage, stress must be laid on the words “no one can be forced,” Luther’s meaning being that constraint in the case of this Sacrament is as intolerable as in the case of the others. He, moreover, declares immediately afterwards that Christ demands “Baptism and the Sacrament.” Elsewhere, when again advocating freedom in the matter of Confession and defending the work above referred to, he says: “I will have no forcing and compelling. Faith and baptism I commend; no one, however, may be forced to accept it, but only admonished and then left free to choose.” Nevertheless he had certainly not been sufficiently careful in his choice of words, and had allowed too great play to his boisterous desire for freedom, when, at the conclusion of the passage quoted from his booklet “On Confession,” he seemingly asserts man’s “freedom before God,” not only in the matter of Confession and Communion, but also in that of Baptism. Yet the object of the whole tract was to show what the result would be, more particularly in the matter of Confession and Excommunication, were Christ’s commandments in Holy Scripture put in practice, instead of attending only to the man-made ordinances of Popes and Councils.
One modern school of Protestant unbelief professes to base itself on the earlier Luther, and, in almost every particular, justifies itself by appealing to him.
Such theologians are, however, overstepping the limits of what is right and fair when they make out the Luther of that earlier period to have been a true representative of that form of unbelief just tinged with religion which is their own ideal. As a matter of fact, Luther, had he been logical, should have arrived at this conclusion, but he preferred to turn aside, repudiate it, and embrace the profound contradiction involved in the union of that right of private judgment he had proclaimed, with the admission of binding dogmas. Freedom in the interpretation of the sense of Scripture, or more correctly the setting aside of all ecclesiastical and ostensibly human authority, has been termed the formal principle of Lutheranism; the doctrine of Justification, viz. the chief doctrine of Lutheranism, was called by the older theologians its material principle. Both principles were at variance with each other in Luther’s mind, just as there can be no composition between arbitrary judgment and formulæ of faith. History has to take Luther as he really was; he demanded the fullest freedom to oppose the Church and her representatives who claimed the right to enact laws concerning faith and morals, but he most certainly was not disposed to hear of any such freedom where belief in revelation, or the acceptance of God’s commandments, was concerned. In the domain of the State, too, he had no intention of interfering with due subjection to the authorities, though his hasty, ill-considered utterances seemed to invite the people to pull down every barrier.
In the second period, from 1522 onwards, his tone has changed and he becomes, so to speak, more conservative and more “religious.”
The principle of freedom of interpretation he now proclaims rather more cautiously, and no longer appeals in so unqualified a manner to the universal priesthood and the sovereignty of the Congregation in matters of religion. Now that the State has come to assume the direction of the Church, Luther sees fit to make his own some of the conservative ideas usually dear to those in power. As a preservative against abuse of freedom he lays great stress on the “office,” and the call to the work of preaching given by superior authority. “Should a layman so far forget himself as to correct a preacher,” says Heinrich Böhmer when dealing with Luther’s attitude at this period, “and speak publicly, even to a small circle, on the Word of God, it becomes the duty of the authorities, in the interests of public order, to proceed against him as a disturber of the peace. How contradictory this was with the great Reformer’s previous utterances is patent, though very likely he himself did not clearly perceive it. The change in his convictions on this point had taken place all unnoticed simultaneously with the change in the inward and outward situation of the evangelical party.... That his [earlier] view necessarily called not only for unrestricted freedom to teach, but also for complete freedom of worship, was indeed never fully perceived by the Reformer himself.”
The two divergent tendencies, one positive and the other negative, are apparent throughout Luther’s career.
The positive tendency is, however, more strongly emphasised in the second period. We shall hear him giving vent to the most bitter complaints concerning those who interpret Holy Scripture according to their own ideas and introduce their own notions into the holy and unchanging Word of God. As exemplifying his own adherence to the truths of Christianity, the great and solemn profession of faith contained in the work he wrote in 1528 on the Supper, has been rightly instanced. As P. Albert Weiss remarks, he makes this “fine profession with an energy which goes straight to the heart” and “in words which bear honourable testimony to the depth of his conviction”; it is true that here, too, the contrast to the Catholic Church, whose belief he so passionately depreciates, forces itself like a spectre before his mind. “This is my belief,” he says at the end of the list of Christian dogmas which he accepts, “for this is what all true Christians believe and what Holy Scripture teaches. Whatever I may have left unsaid here will be found in my booklets, more particularly in those published during the last four or five years.”
Hence when it is asserted by Protestants of rationalist leanings that Luther recognised only one form of faith, viz. trust in Christ, and that he reduced all religion to this, it should be pointed out that he required at the same time a belief in all revealed truths, and that his doctrine of confident faith in one’s personal salvation and of trust in a Gracious God and Saviour, was ultimately based on a general act of faith; “Faith,” he says, in a sermon which was later embodied in his Church-postils, “really means accepting as true from the bottom of our heart what the Gospel says concerning Christ, and also all the articles of faith.” It is true that Luther ever insisted on awakening of confidence, yet the “fides fiducialis” as explained by him always presupposes the existenc
e of the “fides historica.”
With Luther faith in the whole of Divine revelation comes first, then the trusting faith which “trusts all to God.”
“His whole manner of life,” Otto Ritschl says, “so far as it was directed to the attainment of practical aims, was fundamentally religious, in the same way as his most important doctrines concerning God, Christ, the Law, Sin, Justification, the Forgiveness of Sins and Christian Freedom all breathe the spirit of faith, which, as such, was confidence.” The Protestant theologian from whom we quote these words thinks it necessary to say of the contradictions in Luther which have been instanced by Catholics and non-Catholics alike, that “at least in Luther’s own way of thinking,” they were not such, for he based his faith on the “revelation given by God’s Word in Holy Scripture.”
In the polemical writings directed against Luther, it was pointed out, concerning his faith, that he himself had described faith as a mere “fancy and supposition” (opinio). We would, however, suggest the advisability of considerable caution, for according to other passages and from the context, it is plain that what he intends by the word “opinio” is rather a belief, and, besides, he adds the adjective “firma” to the word incriminated. It is of course a different question whether the absolute certainty of faith can be attributed to that faith on which he lays such great stress, viz. the purely personal fides fiducialis in one’s salvation through Christ, and, further, whether this certainty can be found in the articles, which, according to Luther’s teaching, the Christian deduces from the Word of God in Scripture by a subjective examination in which he has only his own private judgment to depend on.
Collected Works of Martin Luther Page 664