Collected Works of Martin Luther

by Martin Luther

  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.”

  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. 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, “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?”

  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.

  It should be noted of the statements to be quoted that they betray no trace of having been made in a jesting or rhetorical mood, but are, on the contrary, in the nature of theological arguments.

  In 1537, he declared: “I have frequently said that I never desired God to grant me the grace of working miracles, but rejoice that it is given to me to hold fast to the Word of God and to work with it; otherwise they would soon be saying: ‘The devil works through him.’” For, as the Jews behaved towards Christ, “so also do our adversaries, the Papists, behave towards us. Whatever we do is wrong in their eyes; they are annoyed at us and scandalised and say: The devil made this people. But they shall have no sign from us.” All that Christ said to the Jews was: “Destroy this temple,” that is, Me and My teaching; I shall nevertheless rise again. “What else can we reply to our foes, the Papists?... Destroy the temple if you will, it shall nevertheless be raised up again in order that the Gospel may remain in the Christian Church.” — The great miracle required of Christ was merely deferred, He performed it by His actual resurrection from the dead. What sign such as this was it in Luther’s power to promise?

  Luther is even anxious not to have any signs. “I have besought the contrary of God,” i.e. that there should be no revelations or signs, so he writes in 1534, in the enlarged Commentary on Isaias, “in order that I may not be lifted up, or drawn away from the spoken Word, by the deceit of Satan.”— “Now that the Gospel has been spread abroad and proclaimed to the whole world it is not necessary to work wonders as in the time of the Apostles. But should necessity arise and the Gospel be threatened and suffer violence, we should then have to set about it and work signs rather than leave the Gospel to be abused and oppressed. But I hope it will not be necessary, and that things will not come to such a pass as to compel me to speak with new tongues, for this is not really necessary.” Here he is thinking of believers generally, though at the close he refers more particularly to himself. Speaking of all, he continues prudently: “Let no one take it upon himself to work wonders without urgent necessity.” “For the disciples did not perform them on every occasion, but only in order to bear witness to the Word and to confirm it by miraculous signs.”

  That he believed the power to work miracles might be obtained of God may be inferred from many of his declarations against the fanatics, where he challenges them to prove themselves the messengers of God by signs and wonders; for whosoever is desirous of teaching something new or uncommon, he had said, must be “called by God and able to confirm his calling by real miracles,” otherwise let him pack up and go his way. But his own doctrines were an entirely new thing in the Church, and, in spite of every subterfuge, when thus inviting others to perform miracles, he cannot always have been unmindful of the fact. Hence it has been said that he claimed a certain latent ability to work miracles. It should, however, be noted that he always insists here that his teaching, unlike that of the fanatics and other sects, Catholics included, was not new, but was the original teaching of Christ, and that therefore it stood in no need of miracles.

  Still, his confident tone brings him within measurable distance of volunteering to work miracles in support of his cause. “Although I have wrought no such sign such as perhaps we might work, should necessity arise,” etc. These words are quite in keeping with the above: “We should have to set about it,” etc.

  It is strange how Luther repeatedly falls back on Melanchthon’s recovery at Weimar in 1540. This eventually followed a visit of Luther to his friend, to encourage and pray for the sick man, whose health had completely broken down under the influence of melancholy. It is possible Luther saw in this a miraculous answer to his prayer; owing to the manner in which he recounted the incident it became a tradition, that the power of his prayer was stronger than t
he toils of death. Walch, in his Life of Luther, wrote, that people had then seen “how much Luther’s prayer was capable of.”

  The same scholar adds, as another “remarkable example,” that that godly and upright man, Frederick Myconius, the first evangelical Superintendent at Gotha, had assured him before his death, that only thanks to Luther’s prayers had he been able to drag on his existence, notwithstanding his consumption, for six years, though in a state of “great weakness.” In cheering up Myconius, and promising him his prayers, Luther had said: As to your recovery, “I demand it, I will it, and my will be done. Amen.” “In the same way,” Walch tells us, “he also prayed for his wife Catharine when she was very ill; he was likewise reported to have said on one occasion: ‘I rescued our Philip, my Katey and Mr. Myconius from death by my prayers.’”

  How does the case stand as regards the gift of prophecy, seeing that Luther apparently claims to have repeatedly made use of higher prophetic powers?

  On more than one occasion Luther declares that what he predicted usually came to pass, even adding, “This is no joke.” In the same way he often says quite seriously, that he would refrain from predicting this or that misfortune lest his words should be fulfilled. We see an instance of this sort in his circular-letter addressed, in February, 1539, to the preachers on the anticipated religious war.

  “I am a prophet of evil and do not willingly prophesy anything, for it generally comes to pass.” This he says in conversation when speaking of the wickedness of Duke George of Saxony. In the Preface to John Sutel’s work on “The Gospel of the Destruction of Jerusalem,” Luther says, in 1539, speaking of the disasters which were about to befall Germany: “I do not like prophesying and have no intention of doing so, for what I prophesy, more particularly the evil, is as a rule fulfilled, even beyond my expectations, so that, like St. Micheas, I often wish I were a liar and false prophet; for since it is the Word of God that I speak it must needs come to pass.” In his Church-postils he commences a gloomy prophecy on the impending fate of Germany with the words: “From the bottom of my heart I am loath to prophesy, for I have frequently experienced that what I predict comes only too true,” the circumstances, however, compelled him, etc.

  No wonder then that his enthusiastic disciples had many instances to relate of his “prophecies.”

  A casual reference of Luther’s to a seditious rising to be expected among the German nobility, is labelled in the MS. copy of Lauterbach’s “Tagebuch,” “Luther’s Prophecy concerning the rising of the German nobles.” Bucer in his Eulogies on Luther in the old Strasburg Agenda, after mentioning his great gifts, says: “Add also the gift of prophecy, for everything happens just as he foretold it.” This we read in a Leipzig publication, in which, as an echo of the Reformation Festivities of 1717, a Lutheran, referring to the General Superintendent of Altenburg, Eckhard, protests, “that Luther both claimed and really possessed the gift of prophecy.” Mathesius, in his 15th Sermon on Luther, speaks enthusiastically of the latter’s prophecy against those of the new faith who were sapping the foundations of the Wittenberg teaching: “In our own day Dr. Martin’s prayers and prophecies against the troublesome and unruly spirits have, alas, grown very powerful ... they were to perish miserably, a prophecy which I heard from his own lips: ‘Mathesius, you will see what wanton attacks will be made upon this Church and University of Wittenberg, and how the people will turn heretics and come to a frightful end.’”

  Even J. G. Walch, in 1753, at least in the Contents and Indices to his edition of Luther’s Works, quotes as “Luther’s Prophecies on the destruction of Germany,” the passage from the German “Table-Talk” which foretells God’s judgments on Germany where His Evangel was everywhere despised. Yet this “prophecy” is nothing more than a natural inference from the confusion which Luther saw was the result of his work. In the same Indices, under the name “Luther,” we again find given as a “prophecy” this prediction concerning Germany, under the various forms in which Luther repeated it. Lastly, under the heading “Prophecy,” further reference is made to his predictions on the future lamentable fate of his own Evangel; on the distressing revival by his preachers of the doctrine of good works which he had overthrown; on the apostasy of the most eminent Doctors of the Church; on the abuse of his books by friends of the Evangel; on the Saxon nobles after the death of Frederick the Elector, and, finally, on the fate of Wittenberg. — In all this there is, however, nothing which might not have been confidently predicted from the existing state of affairs. Walch prefaces his summary with the words: “For Luther’s teaching is verily that faith and doctrine proclaimed by the prophets from the beginning of the world,” just as Luther himself had once said in a sermon, that his doctrine had “been proclaimed by the patriarchs and prophets five thousand years before,” but had been “cast aside.”

  We can understand his followers, in their enthusiasm, crediting him with a true gift of prophecy, but it is somewhat difficult to believe that he himself shared their conviction. Although the belief of his disciples can be traced as clearly to Luther’s own assurances, as to the fulfilment of what he predicted, yet it is uncertain whether at any time his self-confidence went to this length. Whoever is familiar with Luther’s mode of speech and his habit of talking half in earnest half in jest, will have some difficulty in persuading himself that the disciples always distinguished the shade of their master’s meaning. The disasters imminent in Germany, and the religious wars, might quite well have been foreseen by Luther from natural signs, and yet this is just the prophecy on which most stress is laid. Melanchthon, who was more sober in his judgments in this respect, speaks of Luther as a prophet merely in the general sense, as for instance when he says in his Postils: “Prophets under the New Law are those who restore again the ancient doctrine; such a one was Dr. Martin Luther.”

  “What Luther, the new Elias and Paul, has prophesied cannot but come true,” writes a preacher in 1562, “and those who would doubt this are unbelieving and godless, Papists, Epicureans, Sodomites or fanatics. Everything has become so frightful and bestial, what with blasphemy, swearing, cursing, unchastity and adultery, usury, oppression of the poor and every other vice, that one might fancy the last trump was sounding for the Judgment. What else do the countless, hitherto unheard-of signs, wonders and visions indicate, but that Christ is about to come to judge and punish?”

  Luther was most diligent in collecting and making use of any prophetical utterances which might go to prove the exalted character of his mission.

  The supposed prophecy of Hus, that from his ashes would arise a swan whose voice it would be impossible to stifle, he coolly applied to himself. He was fond of referring to what a Franciscan visionary at Rome had said of the time of Leo X.: “A hermit shall arise and lay waste the Papacy.” Staupitz, he says, had heard this prophecy from the mouths of many at the time of his stay in Rome (1510). He himself had not heard it there, but later he, like Staupitz, had come to see that he “was the hermit meant, for Augustinian monks are commonly called hermits.”

  Luther had also learnt that a German Franciscan named Hilten, who died at Eisenach about the end of the fifteenth century, had predicted much concerning the destruction of monasticism, the shattering of Papal authority and the end of all things. So highly were Hilten’s alleged sayings esteemed in Luther’s immediate circle that Melanchthon placed one of them at the head of the Article (27) “On monastic vows,” in his theological defence of the Confession of Augsburg; “In 1516 a monk shall come, who will exterminate you monks; ... him will you not be able to resist.” Luther, before this, on October 17, 1529, by letter, had urged his friend Frederick Myconius of Gotha to let him know everything he could about Hilten, “fully, entirely and at length, without forgetting anything”; “you are aware how much depends upon this.... I am very anxious for the information, nay, consumed with longing for it.” His friend’s report, however, did not bring him all he wanted. The Franciscan had predicted the fall of Rome about 1514, i.e. too early, and the e
nd of the world for 1651, i.e. too late. Hence we do not hear of Luther’s having brought forward the name of this prophet in support of his cause. Only on one occasion does he mention Hilten as amongst those, who “were to be consigned to the flames or otherwise condemned.” The fact is that this monk of Eisenach, once an esteemed preacher, was never “condemned” or even tried by the Church, although Luther in the above letter to Myconius says that he “died excommunicate.” Hilten died in his friary, fortified with the Sacraments, and at peace with the Church and his brother monks, after beseeching pardon for the scandal he had given them. The Franciscans had kept in custody the unfortunate man, who had gone off his head under the influence of astrology and apocalyptic dreams, in order that his prophecies might not do harm in the Church or the Order. He was not, however, imprisoned for life, still less was he immured, as some have said; he was simply kept under fatherly control (“paterne custoditum”), that those of his brethren who believed in him might not take any unfair advantage of the old man.

  In the widely read new edition of the book of Prophecies by Johann Lichtenberger, astrologer to the Emperor Frederick III. (1488), republished by Luther in 1527 with a new Preface, the latter’s ideas play a certain part. Luther did not regard these Prophecies as a “spiritual revelation”; they were merely astrological predictions, as he says in the Preface, views which might often prove to be questionable and faulty; nevertheless, his “belief” is “that God does actually make use of heavenly signs, such as comets, eclipses of the sun and the moon, etc., to announce impending misfortune and to warn and affright the ungodly.” “I myself do not scorn this Lichtenberger in everything he says, for he has come right in some things.” Luther is principally concerned with the chastisements predicted by Lichtenberger, but not yet accomplished — as the “priestlings” rejoiced to think — but, still to overtake them owing to their hostility to the Lutheran teaching. “Because they refuse to amend their impious life and doctrine, but on the contrary persevere in it and grow worse, I also will prophesy that in a short time their joy shall be turned to shame, and will ask them kindly to remember me then.” Later he speaks incidentally of Lichtenberger as a “fanatic, but still one who had foretold many things, for this the devil is well able to do.”