Collected Works of Martin Luther

by Martin Luther

  Such, according to the Catholic doctrine, is the process approved of by Holy Scripture, the various phases of which rest alike on religion and psychology, on the positive ordinances of God and on human nature. Luther, however, thrust all this aside; his quest was for a simpler and easier method, through faith alone, by which sin may be vanquished or covered over.

  His moral character, so far as it reveals itself in his teaching, is here displayed in an unfavourable light, for he is never weary of emphasising the ease with which sin can be covered over — and that in language which must necessarily have had a bad effect on discipline — when we might have expected to hear some earnest words on penance. A few of his sayings will help to make yet clearer his earlier statements.

  “You see how rich the Christian is,” he says, “since, even should he desire it, he is unable to forfeit his salvation, no matter how many sins he may commit, unless indeed he refuses to believe (‘nisi nolit credere’). No sin but unbelief can bring him to damnation; everything else is at once swept away by this faith, so soon as he returns to it, or recollects the Divine promise made to the baptised.”

  “Christ’s Evangel is indeed a mighty thing.... God’s Word brings everything to pass speedily, bestows forgiveness of sins and the gift of eternal life; and the cost of this is merely that you should hear the Word, and after hearing it believe. If you believe, then you possess it without any trouble, expense, delay or difficulty.”

  “No other sin exists in the world save unbelief. All others are mere trifles, as when my little Hans or Lena misbehave themselves in the corner, for we all take that as a big joke. In the same way faith covers the stench of our filth before God.... All sins shall be forgiven us if only we believe in the Son.”

  “As I have often said, the Kingdom of Christ is nothing else but forgiveness and perpetual blotting out of sin, which is extinguished, covered over, swept away and made clean while we are living here.” “Christ makes things so easy for us who stand before God in fear and trembling.”

  “Summa summarum: Our life is one long ‘remissio peccatorum,’ and forgiveness of sin, otherwise it could not endure.”

  Here, indeed, we have one of the main props of Luther’s practical theology. To this the originator of the doctrine sought to remain faithful to the very end of his life, whereas certain other points of his teaching he was not unwilling to revise. His ideas on sin and repentance had sprung originally from his desire to relieve his own conscience, and, of this, they ever retained the mark. The words and doctrine of a teacher are the best witnesses we have to his moral character, and here the doctrine is one which affords but little stimulus to virtue and Christian perfection, but rather the reverse.

  In what follows we shall consider more closely the relation between this doctrine and the effort after virtue, while at the same time taking into account that passivity, nay, entire unfreedom of the will for doing what is good, proclaimed by Luther.

  Luther on Efforts after Higher Virtue.

  The effort to attain perfection and to become like to Christ, which is the highest aim of the Christian, is scarcely promoted by making the whole Gospel to consist merely in the happy enjoyment of forgiveness. The hard work required for the building up of a truly virtuous life on the rude soil of the world, necessarily involving sacrifice, self-denial, humiliation and cheerful endurance of suffering, was more likely to be looked at askance and carefully avoided by those who clung to such a view.

  On the pretext of opposing the “false humility of the holy-by-works,” Luther attacks many practices which have always been dear to pious souls striving after God. At the same time he unjustly implies that the Catholics made holiness to consist merely in extraordinary works, performed, moreover, by human strength alone, without the assistance of grace. “This all comes from the same old craze,” he declares; “as soon as we hear of holiness we immediately think of great and excellent works and stand gaping at the Saints in heaven as though they had got there by their own merits. What we say is that the Saints must be good, downright sinners.” (See above, .) “The most holy state is that of those who believe that Christ alone is our holiness, and that by virtue of His holiness, as already stated, everything about us, our life and actions, are holy, just as the person too is holy.”

  After this, who can contend that Luther sets before the world the sublime and arduous ideal of a life of virtue such as has ever been cherished by souls inflamed with the love of Christ? To rest content with a standard so low is indeed to clip the wings of virtue. This is in no way compensated for by Luther’s fervent exhortations to the Christian, “to confess the Word, more particularly in temptation and persecution,” because true and exalted virtue was present wherever there was conflict on behalf of the Word [as preached by him], or by his asseveration, that “where the Word is and brings forth fruit so that men are willing to suffer what must be suffered for it, there indeed we have living Saints.” Living Saints? Surely canonisation is here granted all too easily. Nor does Luther make good the deficiencies of his teaching, by depriving good works of any merit for heaven, or by requiring that they should be performed purely out of love of God, without the least thought of reward. He thereby robs the practice of good works of a powerful stimulus, as much in conformity with the Will of God as with human nature. He is too ready here to assume that the faithful are angels, raised above all incentive arising from the hope of reward, though, elsewhere, he looks upon men only too much as of the earth earthly.

  At any rate he teaches that good works spring spontaneously from the faith by which man is justified, and that the outcome is a life of grace in which the faithful has every incentive to the performance of his duty and to works of charity towards his neighbour. He also knows how to depict such spontaneous, practical efforts on the part of the righteous in attractive colours and with great feeling. Passages of striking beauty have already been quoted above from his writings. Too often, as he himself complains, such good works are conspicuous by their absence among the followers of the evangelical faith; he is disappointed to see that the new teaching on faith serves only to engender lazy hearts. Yet this was but natural; nature cannot be overcome even in the man who is justified without an effort on his part; without exertion, self-sacrifice, self-conquest and prayer no one can make any progress and become better pleasing to God; not holiness-by-works, but the sanctifying of our works, is the point to be aimed at, and, for this purpose, Holy Scripture recommends no mere presumptuous, fiducial faith as the starting-point, but rather a pious fear of God, combined with a holy life; no mere reliance on a misapprehension of the freedom of the children of God, but rather severe self-discipline, watchfulness and mortification of the whole man, who, freely and of his own accord, must make himself the image of his crucified Saviour. Those of Luther’s followers who, to their honour, succeeded in so doing, did so, and were cheered and comforted, not by following their leader’s teaching, but by the grace of God which assists every man.

  We must, however, refer to another point of importance already once discussed. Why speak at all of good works and virtue, when Luther’s doctrine of the passivity and unfreedom of the will denies the existence of all liberty as regards either virtue or sin? (See vol. ii., ff.)

  Luther’s doctrine of Justifying Faith is closely bound up with his theories on the absence of free will, man’s inability to what do is good, and the total depravity of human nature resulting from original sin. In his “De servo arbitrio” against Erasmus, Luther deliberately makes the absence of free will the basis of his view of life.

  Deprived of any power of choice or self-determination, man is at the mercy of external agents, diabolical or Divine, to such an extent that he is unable to will except what they will. Whoever has and keeps the Spirit of God and the faith cannot do otherwise than fulfil the Will of God; but whoever is under the domination of the devil is his spiritual captive. To sum up what was said previously: man retains at most the right to dispose of things inferior to him, not, however, any actu
al, moral freedom of choice, still less any liberty for doing what is good such as would exclude all interior compulsion. He is created for eternal death or for everlasting life; his destiny he cannot escape; his lot is already pre-ordained. Luther’s doctrine brings him into line, even as regards the “harshest consequences of the predestinarian dogma, with Zwingli, Calvin, and Melanchthon in his earliest evangelical Theology.” According to one of the most esteemed of Lutheran theologians, “what finds full and comprehensive expression in the work ‘De servo arbitrio’ is simply the conviction which had inspired Luther throughout his struggle for his pet doctrine of salvation, viz. the doctrine of the pure grace of God as against the prevailing doctrine of free will and man’s own works.” According to this theory, in spite of the lack of free will, God requires of man that he should keep the moral law, and, to encourage him, sets up a system of rewards and punishments. Man is constrained to this as it were in mockery, that, as Luther says, God may make him to realise his utter powerlessness. God indeed deplores the spiritual ruin of His people — this much the author is willing to allow to his opponent Erasmus — but, the God Who does so is the God of revelation, not the Hidden God. “The God Who conceals Himself beneath His Majesty grieves not at man’s undoing, He takes no step to remedy it, but works all things, both life and death.” God, “by that unsearchable knowledge of His, wills the death of the sinner.”

  “Even though Judas acted of his own will and without compulsion, still his willing was the work of God, Who moved him by His Omnipotence as He moves all things.” In the same way, according to Luther, the hardening of Pharao’s heart was in the fullest sense God’s work. Adam’s sin likewise is to be traced back to the Will of God. We must not ask, however, how all this can be reconciled with the goodness and justice of God. We must not expect God to act according to human law.

  It was necessary to recall the above in order to show how such a doctrine robs the moral law of every inward relation to its last end, and degrades it till it becomes a mere outward, arbitrary barrier. Luther may well thank his want of logic that this system failed to be carried to its extremest consequences; the ways of the world are not those of the logician.

  Who but God can be held responsible in the last instance for the world being, as Luther complains, the “dwelling-place” of the devil, and his very kingdom? According to him the devil is its “Prince and God”; every place is packed with devils. Indeed, “the whole world is Satanic and to a certain extent identified with Satan.” “In such a kingdom all the children of Adam are subject to their lord and king, i.e. the devil.” Such descriptions given by Luther are often so vivid that one might fancy the devil was making war upon God almost like some independent power. Luther, however, admits that the devil has “only a semblance of the Godhead, and that God has reserved to Himself the true Godhead.” Ethically the consequence of such a view of the world is a pessimism calculated to lame both the powers and the desires of anyone striving after higher aims.

  Luther’s pessimism goes so far, that too often he is ready to believe that, unlike the devil, Christ loves “to show Himself weak” in man. He writes, for instance, that Satan desired to drag him in his toils down into the abyss, but that the “weak Christ” was ever victorious, or at least “fighting bravely.” That it was possible for Christ to be overcome he would not have allowed, yet, surely, an excuse might have been sought for man’s failings in Christ’s own “weakness,” particularly if man is really devoid of free will for doing what is good.

  Luther was always fond of imputing weaknesses and sins to the Saints. Their works he regarded as detracting from the Redemption and the Grace of Christ, which can be appropriated only by faith. Certain virtues manifested by the Saints and their heroic sacrifices Luther denounced as illusions, as morally impossible and as mere idolatry.

  “The Apostles themselves were sinners, yea, regular scoundrels.... I believe that the prophets also frequently sinned grievously, for they were men like us.” He quotes examples from the history of the Apostles previous to the descent of the Holy Ghost. Elsewhere he alludes to the failings they betrayed even in later life. “To hear” that the Apostles, even after they had received the Holy Ghost, were “sometimes weak in the faith,” is, he says, “very consoling to me and to all Christians.” Peter “not only erred” in his treatment of the Gentile Christians (Gal. ii. 11 ff.), “but sinned grossly and grievously.” The separation of Paul and Barnabas (Acts xv. 39) was very blameworthy. “Such instances,” he says, “are placed before us for our comfort; for it is very consoling to hear that such great Saints have also sinned.” “Samson, David and many other fine and mighty characters, filled as they were with the Holy Ghost, fell into great sins,” which is a “splendid consolation to faint-hearted and troubled consciences.” Paul himself did not believe as firmly as he spoke; he was, in point of fact, better able to speak and write than to believe. “It would scarcely be right for us to do all that God has commanded, for then what need would there be for the forgiveness of sins?”

  “Unless God had told us how foolishly the Saints themselves acted, we should not have been able to arrive at the knowledge of His Kingdom, which is nothing else but the forgiveness of sins.” Here He is referring to the stumbling and falls of the Patriarchs; he adds: “What wonder that we stumble? And yet this is no cloak or excuse for committing sin.” Nevertheless, he speaks of Abraham, whom he credits with having fallen into idolatry and sin, as though holiness of life were of no great importance: “Believe as he did and you are just as holy as he.” “We must interpret all these stories and examples as told of men like ourselves; it is a delusion to make such a fuss about the Saints. We ought to say: If they were holy, why, so are we; if we are sinners, why, so were they; for we are all born of the same flesh and blood and God created us as much as He did them; one man is as good as another, and the only difference between us is faith. If you have faith and the Word of God, you are just as great; you need not trouble yourself about being of less importance than he, unless your faith is less strong.”

  By his “articulus remissionis,” the constantly reiterated Evangel of the forgiveness of sins by faith, Luther certainly succeeded in putting down the mighty from their seats, but whether he inspired the lowly to qualify for their possession is quite another question.

  On the unsafe ground of the assurance of salvation by faith alone even the fanatics were unwilling to stand; their preference was for a certain interior satisfaction to be secured by means of works. Hence they and their teaching — to tell the truth a very unsatisfactory one — became a target for Luther’s sarcasm. By a pretence of strict morals they would fain give the lie to the words of the Our Father, “Forgive us our trespasses”; “but we are determined not to make the Our Father untrue, nor to reject this article (the ‘remissio peccatorum’), but to retain it as our most precious treasure, in which lies our safety and salvation.” An over-zealous pursuit of sanctity and the works of the Spirit might end by detracting from a trusting reliance upon Christ. In Catholic times, for instance, the two things, works and faith, had, so he complains, been “hopelessly mixed.” “This, from the beginning until this very day, has been a stumbling-block and hindrance to the new doctrine of faith. If we preach works, then an end is made of faith; hence, if we teach faith, works must go to the wall.”

  We must repeat, that, by this, Luther did not mean to exclude works; on the contrary, he frequently counsels their performance. He left behind him many instructions concerning the practice of a devout life, of which we shall have to speak more fully later. On the other hand, however, we can understand how, on one occasion, he refused to draw up a Christian Rule of Life, though requested to do so by his friend Bugenhagen, arguing that such a thing was superfluous. We can well understand his difficulty, for how could he compile a rule for the promotion of practical virtue when he was at the same time indefatigable in condemning the monkish practices of prayer and meditation, pious observances and penitential exercises, as mere formalities and
outgrowths of the theory of holiness-by-works? It was quite in keeping with his leading idea, and his hatred of works, that he should stigmatise the whole outward structure of the Christian life known hitherto as a mere “service of imposture.”

  “Christ has become to all of us a cloak for our shame.”

  “Our life and all our doings must not have the honour and glory of making us children of God and obtaining for us forgiveness of sins and everlasting life. What is necessary is that you should hear Christ saying to you: ‘Good morning, dear brother, in Me behold your sin and death vanquished.’ The law has already been fulfilled, viz. by Christ, so that it is not necessary to fulfil it, but only to hang it by faith around Him who fulfils it, and to become like Him.”

  “This is the Evangel that brings help and salvation to the conscience in despair.... The law with its demands had disheartened, nay, almost slain it, but now comes this sweet and joyful message.”