Collected Works of Martin Luther

by Martin Luther

  Luther often had recourse to prayer, especially when he found himself in difficulty, or in an awkward situation from which he could see no escape; in his letters he also as a rule asks for prayers for himself and for the common cause of the new Evangel. It is impossible to take such requests as a mere formality; his way of making them is usually so full of feeling that they must have been meant in earnest.

  In 1534 he wrote a special instruction for the simple and unlearned on the way to pray. Many parts of this booklet recall the teaching of the great masters of prayer, though unfortunately it is imbued with his peculiar tenets.

  He urges people to pray fervently against “the idolatry of the Turk, of the Pope, of all false teachers and devil’s snares”; he also mocks at the prayers of the “parsons and monks,” unable to refrain from his bitter polemics even in an otherwise edifying work. Yet the body of the booklet teaches quite accurately, in a fashion recalling the directions given by St. Ignatius, how the Our Father and other daily prayers may be devoutly recited, with pauses after the various petitions or words, so as to form a sort of meditation. He himself, so he assures his readers, was in the habit of “sucking” in this way at the Paternoster, and was also fond of occupying himself with a similar prayerful analysis of the Psalter.

  His regular daily prayer he says elsewhere was the Our Father, the Creed and the other usual formulas. “I have daily to do violence to myself in order to pray,” he remarked to his friends, “and I am satisfied to repeat when I go to bed the Ten Commandments, the Our Father and then a verse or two; thinking over them I fall asleep.” “The Our Father is my prayer, I pray this and sometimes intermingle with it something from the Psalms, so as to put to shame the vain scoffers and false teachers.”

  It must not be overlooked, however, that on extraordinary occasions, when his hatred of the Papacy was more than usually strong or when troubles pressed, his prayer was apt to assume strange forms. His abomination for the Pope found vent, as he repeatedly tells us, in his maledictory Paternoster. When in great fear and anxiety concerning Melanchthon, who lay sick at Weimar, he, to use his own quaint phraseology, “threw down his tools before our God,” to compel Him, as it were, to render assistance. Another such attempt to do violence to God is the purport of a prayer uttered in dejection during his stay in the fortress of Coburg, which Veit Dietrich, who overheard it, gives us in what he states were Luther’s own words: “I know that Thou art Our God and Father; hence I am certain Thou wilt put to shame all those who persecute Thy children. Shouldst Thou not do so, there will be as much danger for Thee as for us. This is Thy cause, and we only took it up because we knew Thou wouldst defend it,” etc. This intimate friend of Luther’s also tells us, that, in those anxious days, Luther’s conversations concerning God and his hopes for the future bore an even deeper stamp than usual of sincerity and depth of feeling. Dietrich was one of Luther’s most passionately devoted pupils.

  “Ah, prayer can do much,” such are Luther’s words in one of the numerous passages of the Table-Talk, where he recommends its use. “By prayer many are saved, even now, just as we ourselves prayed Philip back to life.”

  “It is impossible,” he says, “that God should not answer the prayer of faith; that He does not always do so is another matter. God does not give according to a prescribed measure, but heaped up and shaken down, as He says.... Hence James says (v. 16): ‘Pray one for another,’ etc. ‘The continual prayer of a just man availeth much.’ That is one of the best verses in his Epistle. Prayer is a powerful thing.”

  Anyone who has followed Luther’s development and understands his character will know where to find the key to these remarkable, and at first sight puzzling, declarations of trust in God and zeal in prayer.

  When once the herald of the new religion had contrived to persuade himself of his Divine call, such blindly confident prayer and trust in God no longer involve anything wonderful. His utterances, undoubtedly, have a good side, for instance, his frank admission of his weakness, of his want of virtue and of the parlous condition of his cause, should God forsake it. All his difficulties he casts into the lap of the Almighty and of Christ, in the true Divine sonship of whom he declares he believes firmly. It must, however, strike anyone who examines his prayers that he never once expresses the idea which should accompany all true prayer, viz. resignation into the hands of God and entire willingness to follow Him, to go forward, or turn back whithersoever God wills; never do we find him imploring light so as to know whether the course he is pursuing and the work he has undertaken is indeed right and pleasing to God. On the contrary, in his prayers, in his thoughts and amidst all his inner conflicts, he resolutely sets aside as out of the question any idea of changing the religious attitude he has once assumed. All his striving is directed towards this one end, viz. that God will vouchsafe to further his cause and grant him victory. He, as it were, foists his cause on Heaven. Hence there is lacking a property imperatively demanded by prayer, viz. that holy indifference and readiness to serve God in the way pleasing to Him to which the Psalmist alludes when he says: “Teach me to do Thy Will, O Lord.”

  The dominating idea which both animates his confidence and gives it its peculiar stamp, also furnishes him with a sword against the Papacy, with which he lays about him all the more vigorously the more fervently he prays. In praying he blows into a flame his hatred of all who stand up for the ancient Church; in his prayers he seems to find all the monstrous accusations he intends to hurl against her. Yet he himself elsewhere reminds his hearers, that, as a preparation for prayer, they must put away all bad feeling, since our Lord warns the man who is at variance with his brother first to be reconciled to him before coming with his offering. Luther also impresses on the monks and clergy that they must not pray for what is displeasing to God ... for instance, for strength to fulfil their obligation of celibacy or their vows. — Might they not justly have retorted that he, too, should not insist so blindly that God should establish his work? And might not the fanatics and Anabaptists have urged a tu quoque against him when he accused them of spiritual pride and blind presumption because of their fervent prayers?

  We shall not go out of our way to repeat again what we have already said of his pseudo-mysticism. But in order to understand rightly Luther’s prayers and trustfulness, so frequently reminiscent of the best men of the Catholic past, it is necessary to bear in mind his peculiar mystic leanings.

  Other Personal Traits. His Family Life.

  Luther was able to combine in a remarkable manner his pseudo-mysticism with practical and sober common sense.

  Where it is not a question of his Divine mission, of the rights of the new Evangel or of politics — of which by nature he was unfitted to judge — we usually find him eminently practical in his views. His intercourse with others was characterised by simplicity and directness, and the tone of his conversation was both vigorous and original. It was most fortunate for him that his practical insight into things so soon enabled him to detect the exaggeration and peril of the movement set on foot by the fanatics. Had he been as incautious as they, the State authorities would soon have crushed his plans. This he clearly perceived from the very outset of the movement. Something similar, though on a smaller scale, happened later in the case of the Antinomians. Luther was opposed to such extravagance, and, when friendly admonition proved of no avail, was perfectly ready to resort to force. Whether, from his own standpoint, he was in a position to set matters straight in the case of either of the two movements is another question; the truth is that his standpoint had suspiciously much in common with both. At any rate his encounter with the fanatics taught him to lay much less stress than formerly on the “Spirit,” and to insist more on the outward Word and the preaching of the “Evangel.”

  It must also be noted, that, though accustomed to go forward bravely and beat down all difficulties by main strength, yet in many instances he was quite open to accommodate himself to circumstances, and to yield in the interests of his cause, displaying likewis
e considerable ingenuity in the choice of the means to be employed. We have already had occasion more than once to see that he was by no means deficient in the wisdom of the serpent. He knew how to give favourably disposed Princes astute advice, particularly as to how they might best encourage and promote the new Church system. To settle their quarrels and to restore concord among them he had recourse sometimes to fiery and even gross language, sometimes to more diplomatic measures. When the Elector and the Duke of Saxony became estranged by the Wurzen quarrel Luther frankly advised the former to give way, and jestingly added that sometimes there might be good reason to “light a couple of tapers at the devil’s altar.”

  He did not, however, possess any talent as an organiser and was, generally speaking, a very imperfect judge of the social conditions of his time. (See vol. vi., xxxv.)

  Heinrich Böhmer remarks justly: “Luther was no organiser. Not that he was devoid of interest in or comprehension for the practical needs of life. He was neither a secluded scholar nor a stiff-necked pedant.... His practical vein, though strong enough to enable him readily to detect the weak spot in the proposals and creations of others, was, however, not equal to any independent, creative and efficient action. However bold, energetic and original as a thinker and writer, as an organiser he was clumsy, diffident and poor in ideas. In this domain he is entirely lacking in initiative, decision and, above all, in any theory he could call his own.” “His regulations for public worship are no new creation but, more often than not, merely the old, Catholic ones, reduced and arranged to meet the needs of the evangelical congregation.... Where he is original he not seldom ceases to be practical. For instance, his extraordinary proposal that the Latin service should be retained for the benefit and edification of those familiar with the language, and his regret that it was no longer possible to arrange a service in Greek or Hebrew, can scarcely be characterised as anything but a professor’s whim.”

  His domestic life, owing to the simplicity, frugality and industry which reigned there, presents the picture of an unpretentious family home.

  With Catherine Bora and the children she bore him, he led — apart from the disturbances arising from his outward controversies and inward combats — a regular life conducive to his labours. His relations with his life’s partner, who was absorbed in the management of the little household, were, so it would appear, never seriously disturbed; he was as devoted to her as she was to him, striving as she did to serve him and to lighten his cares. As to her failings, viz. a certain haughtiness and masterfulness, he winked at them.

  In his will dated Jan. 6, 1542, he gives, as follows, his reason for leaving everything to his “beloved and faithful wife Catherine”: “I do this first because she, as a pious, faithful and honourable wife, has always held me dear and in honour and, by God’s blessing, bore me and brought up five children, who are still alive and whom may God long preserve.”

  Incidentally he praises her complacency and says that she had served him not only like a wife but like a maid. It is true, however, he says elsewhere: “Had I to marry another, I should hew myself an obedient wife out of stone, for I despair of any woman’s obedience.”

  His last letters to Bora attest great mutual confidence, even though he does just hint in his usual joking way at their common faults: “I think, that, had you been here, you would also have advised us to do this, so that then for once we should have followed your advice.” “To my well-beloved housewife Catherine Lutheress, Doctoress, Zulsdorferess, pork-butcheress and whatever else she may be. Grace to you and peace in Christ and my poor old love.... I commend to God’s keeping you and all the household; greet all the guests. [Signed] M. L., your old sweetheart.” Writing to his wife who was so anxious about him, he says: “You want to undertake the care of your God just as though He were not almighty and able to create ten Dr. Martins.... Let Master Philip read this letter, for I have not had time to write to him; console yourself with this, that I would be with you were I able, as you know, and as he perhaps also knows from experience with his own wife, and understands it all perfectly.” “We are very grateful to you for your great anxiety that prevents you from sleeping.... Do you pray and leave the rest to God. It is written: ‘Cast thy care upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee’ (Psalm lv.).”

  His humour helped to tide him over any minor annoyances for which Catherine and the inmates of his house were responsible. He preferred to oppose the shield of jest to Catherine’s obstinacy, to her feminine desire to interfere in business that was not hers, as well as to her jealous rule in matters pertaining to the management of the household. When in his letters he addresses her as “Lord Katey,” and so forth, his object was to reprove her gently for that imperiousness under which he himself had sometimes to smart. We learn from outside sources that her interference was particularly troublesome to others at the time of Luther’s conflict with the lawyers on the validity of clandestine marriages, when his wife’s friendly interest in certain couples concerned displayed itself in loud and over-zealous advocacy of Luther’s view of the question. It was then that Cruciger, the Wittenberg theologian, described her as the “firebrand in Luther’s house.”

  He was not merely unable to accustom himself to the humdrum occupations connected with household management, but the annoyance it entailed was so repugnant to him that in 1538 he dissuaded a preacher who wished to marry a second time, telling him that “the management of a family is in our day the most troublesome thing on earth, so that, knowing the wickedness of the world, were I a young man I would rather die than again become a married man, even though, after my Katey, a queen were offered me in marriage.” Evidently he must have found something to regret.

  Both took their share in the troublesome and unpretentious work of educating and instructing the children. Luther rightly extols such labours as great and meritorious in God’s sight, just as he frequently describes the seemingly lowly callings, which, in the eyes of the world, are of no account, e.g. marriage, as ennobled by God when performed by pious Christians in accordance with His Will and to the benefit of body and soul. (Above, f.)

  By means of a fairly well-ordered division of the day he found time, in the intervals of the demands made by his domestic duties, to devote long hours to the multifarious and exhausting labours of which we know something. Self-denial in the interests of the cause he had espoused, renunciation of ease and enjoyment so as better to serve an end for which he was impassioned, disregard even of the pressing claims of health — all this is not easily to be matched in any other writer of eminence and talent occupying so historic a position in public life. Luther, plagued as he was by extraneous difficulties, with his professorship, his pulpit and his care for souls, seemed to revolve the wheel of time. Without unheard-of energy and a fiery, overmastering enthusiasm for the cause his achievements would indeed be incomprehensible.

  The Catholic, however, when contemplating these traits so far as they redound to Luther’s credit must deeply regret, that such energy was not employed in a well-ordered amelioration of the ecclesiastical system on the basis of the true Christian doctrine and in harmony with the authority divinely appointed. If he considers these favourable sides of Luther’s character with befitting broad-mindedness, his grief can only deepen at the action, characterised by such perversity and contradiction, by which Luther sought utterly to destroy the existing Church and her faith as revealed and handed down.

  CHAPTER XXVI

  LUTHER’S MODE OF CONTROVERSY A COUNTERPART OF HIS SOUL

  1. Luther’s Anger. His Attitude towards the Jews, the Lawyers and the Princes

  What above all strikes one in Luther’s mode of controversy is his utter unrestraint in his scolding and abuse. Particularly remarkable, especially in his later years, is the language which he has in readiness for two groups of foes, viz. for Jews and Lawyers; then, again, we have the invective which, throughout his career, he was fond of hurling at such Princes and scholars as did not submit to his teaching.

  As, in w
hat follows, and in studying the psychology of his anti-Papal abuse, we shall have again occasion to encounter unpleasant passages, we may well make our own the words of Sir Thomas More in his “Responsio ad convitia Lutheri,” where he trounces Luther for his handling of Henry VIII.: “The gentle reader must forgive me if much that occurs offends his feelings. Nothing has been more painful to me than to be compelled to pour such things into decent ears. The only other alternative would, however, have been to leave the unclean book untouched.”

  The Jews.

  In his earlier days Luther had been more friendly towards the Jews, and had even cherished the childish hope that many of them would embrace the new Evangel and help him in his warfare against the Papal Antichrist. When this failed to come about Luther became more and more angered with their blasphemy against Christ, their art of seducing the faithful and their cunning literary attacks on Christian doctrine. He was also greatly vexed because his Elector, in spite of having, in 1536, ordered all Jews to leave the country, nevertheless, in 1538, granted them a conditional permit to travel through it; he was still more exasperated with Ferdinand the German King who had curtailed the disabilities of the Jews. Luther’s opinion was that the only thing to do was to break their pride; he now relinquished all hope of convincing any large number of them of the truth of Christianity; even the biblical statements, according to which the Jews were to be converted before the end of the world, appeared to him to have been shorn of their value.

  Hence Luther was, above all, desirous of proving to the faithful that the objections brought forward by the Jews against Christian doctrine and their interpretation of the Old Testament so as to exclude the Christian Messias were all wrong. This he did in three writings which followed each other at short intervals: “Von den Jüden und jren Lügen,” “Vom Schem Hamphoras,” both dating from 1542, and “Von den letzten Worten Davids” (1543). Owing to his indignation these writings are no mere works of instruction, but in parts are crammed with libel and scurrilous abuse.