The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism
Page 22
Nevertheless all Baptist communities aim to be “pure” congregations in terms of the blameless lives led by their members. An inner separation from the world and its interests, and the absolute subordination to the authority of God, who speaks to us in our consciences, is also the sole unmistakable mark of true regeneration; the corresponding manner of life [Wandel] is thus a condition of salvation. It cannot be earned, but is the gracious gift of God. However, only the person who lives according to his conscience can regard himself as born again. In this sense, “good works” are a “causa sine qua non.” As we can see, these latter thoughts of Barclay,38 on which we have based this account, are again practically identical to the Reformed doctrine, and were undoubtedly developed under the influence of the Calvinist asceticism which the Baptist sects found in England and the Netherlands; George Fox devoted the whole of the early part his missionary activity to preaching the necessity of earnestly and inwardly appropriating this message.
Psychologically, however—since predestination is rejected—the spe-cifically methodical character of Baptist morality rests above all on the idea of “waiting” upon the working of the spirit, which even today characterizes the Quaker “meeting”39 and is finely analyzed by Barclay: the purpose of this silent waiting is the overcoming of the instinctive and irrational, the passions and subjectivity of the “natural” man, who should be silent, in order to create that quietness in his soul in which alone God can speak. Admittedly, the effect of this “waiting” can result in hysterical states,40 prophecy, and, where eschatological hopes are cherished, even to an outbreak of fanatical reforming zeal, as occurred in the Münster movement, which was crushed. But as Baptist ideas began to infiltrate normal secular life, the belief that God only speaks when the creature is silent evidently led to the calm consideration of actions and to the basing of these on careful individual searching of the conscience [214]. The practical lives of the later Baptist communities, particularly the Quakers, took on this calm, sober, and supremely conscientious character. Hand in hand with this went an accommodation to work in a calling. The leaders of the oldest movement of Baptists had been ruthlessly radical in their rejection of the world. However, even the first generation of Baptists had some prosperous, middle-class [bürgerlich] members, so the strictly apostolic conduct of life was clearly not held to be essential as evidence of rebirth for all. The earnest moral rigor of the Baptists had, in practice, followed the path trodden by Reformed ethics [215]—this was even before Menno, who firmly believed in the virtue of the innerworldly calling and private ownership of property. Ever since the time of Luther, whom Baptists followed in this matter, the development toward the otherworldly, monastic form of asceticism was ruled out as unscriptural and suggestive of justification by works.
Nevertheless, quite apart from the early semicommunist communities, which we shall not be dealing with, one Baptist sect—the “Tunker” (Dompelaers or Dunckards)—clung to the rejection of education and any possessions beyond what was essential to sustain life. Barclay, too, did not look upon loyalty to one’s calling [Berufstreue] with the eyes of a Calvinist, or even a Lutheran, seeing it rather in a Thomist sense as an inevitable consequence, “naturali ratione,” of the involvement of the believer in the world. [216]
While these views (like those of Spener and the German Pietists) implied a weakening of the Calvinist idea of the calling, for the Baptist sects the intensity of their interest in the economic aspects of the calling was considerably increased by various factors. One of these was the refusal to accept state office, which was originally regarded as a religious duty deriving from rejection of the world. Even after it had been abandoned as a principle, it continued to exist in practice among Mennonites and Quakers at least, because the strict refusal to bear arms and to swear on oath disqualified them for public office. Hand in hand with this went an implacable opposition to every kind of aristocratic lifestyle, partly, as in the case of the Calvinists, as a result of the prohibition of (the idolatrous) glorification of the creature, and partly also as a consequence of their unpolitical or indeed antipolitical principles. The entire sober, conscientious, and methodical conduct of life of the Baptists was thus diverted into the path of the unpolitical life in a calling.
At the same time, the tremendous importance that the Baptist doctrine of salvation placed upon control by the conscience, which was seen as the way God reveals himself to the individual, marked out the question of conduct in business life [Berufsleben] as highly significant for the development of major aspects of the capitalist spirit, as we shall see when we come to look at the social ethics of Protestant asceticism. If we may anticipate in this matter at least, we shall see that, as early as the seventeenth century, the specific form taken by that innerworldly asceticism of the Baptists, and especially the Quakers [217], was expressed by putting into practice that important principle of capitalist “ethics” contained in the saying “honesty is the best policy”41 [218]—of which Franklin’s tract is the “locus classicus.” On the other hand, we shall expect to find the effects of Calvinism more in the direction of the unleashing of the individual’s economic energy in the pursuit of private gain [Erwerb]. For despite all the formal legality of the “saint,” often enough Goethe’s maxim applied to the Calvinist as much as to others, namely, “When a man acts, he ignores his conscience; only the contemplative man has a conscience.” [219]
A further important element that contributed to the intensity of the innerworldly asceticism of the Baptist denominations can similarly only be considered later in a different context. Nevertheless, a few remarks may be permitted at this stage to justify our proposed procedure. We propose to take as our starting point not the objective social institutions of the old Protestant churches and their ethical influences, and especially not Church discipline, which is, admittedly, very important, but the effects of the subjective appropriation of ascetic religiosity on the conduct of the individual. This is not only because this aspect of the matter is the one to which by far the least attention has been paid. It is also because the effect of Church discipline was by no means always uniform. Ecclesiastical policing of the life of the individual, which in the Calvinist state churches was taken almost to the level of the Inquisition, was quite capable of working against that release of the individual powers that resulted from ascetic striving for methodical appropriation of salvation. Indeed, it sometimes did in fact work against it.
Mercantilist regulation by the state was able to bring industries into being, but, at least on its own, could not produce the capitalist “spirit”—indeed, where this regulation took on a character like that of authoritarian police, the spirit might actually be paralyzed by it. Ecclesiastical regulation of asceticism could have the same effect, if it became too overbearingly intrusive. In this instance, it would compel a certain outward behavior but might paralyze the subjective motives for a methodical conduct of life. On this point, too, we shall have something to say when we come to consider the social policy of ascetic Protestantism. We shall then have to take account of the great difference that existed between the effect of the authoritarian moral police of the state churches, and the moral police of the sects, which depended on people subjecting themselves to it voluntarily. The fact that all the denominations of the Baptist movement always created “sects,” not “churches,” certainly increased the intensity of its asceticism as much—though in varying degrees—as it did in those Calvinist, Pietist, and Methodist communities which were de facto pushed into forming voluntarist communities.
Our task is now to follow the Puritan idea of the calling in its effect on business life [Erwerbsleben], having tried, in the preceding outline, to show the development of its religious foundation. However many deviations there may have been among the different ascetic religious communities as regards details, and however varied may have been the emphasis placed on those aspects which are significant for our purpose, these aspects were present and active in all of them. To recapitulate, what has been cru
cial for our consideration was always the view (which recurs in all denominations) of the religious “state of grace” as a status42 that separates man from the depravity of the creaturely and from the “world” [220]. Possession of this status, however—no matter how the dogmas of the different denominations might teach their followers to acquire it—could only be guaranteed by proving oneself [Bewährung] in a specific form of conduct unambiguously distinct from the style of life of the “natural” man. The consequence for the individual was the drive to keep a methodical check on his state of grace as shown in how he conducted his life and thus to ensure that his life was imbued with asceticism. This ascetic style of life, however, as we have seen, meant a rational shaping of one’s whole existence in obedience to God’s will. And this asceticism was no longer an opus supererogationis, but could be expected of everyone wanting to be sure of salvation. This rationalization of the conduct of life in the world with a view to the beyond is the idea of the calling characteristic of ascetic Protestantism.
Christian asceticism, which was originally a flight from the world into solitude, had already once dominated the world on behalf of the Church from the monastery, by renouncing the world. In doing this, however, it had, on the whole, left the natural, spontaneous character of secular everyday life unaffected. Now it would enter the market place of life, slamming the doors of the monastery behind it, and set about permeating precisely this secular everyday life with its methodical approach, turning it toward a rational life in the world, but neither of this world nor for it. Our remaining chapters will attempt to show to what extent it succeeded. [Editors’ note: In fact, there is only one more chapter.]
2. [ASCETICISM AND THE CAPITALIST SPIRIT]
In order to grasp the links between the fundamental religious ideas of ascetic Protestantism and the maxims of everyday economic life, it is necessary to turn, in particular, to those theological writings which clearly belong within the sphere of practical pastoral care. In an age in which the afterlife was everything, and the Christian’s social standing depended on admission to the Holy Communion, the Christian minister exercised an influence through pastoral care, church discipline, and preaching, beyond anything the modern mind can imagine. This much is clear from a glance at the collections of “consilia,” “casus conscientiae,” etc. In such an age, the religious forces at work in this practical sphere are the decisive formative influences on the “national character.”
In our discussions in this section, in contrast to later discussions, we can treat ascetic Protestantism as a single phenomenon. Since, however, English Puritanism, which grew out of Calvinism, is the most consistent foundation of the idea of the calling, we shall, in accordance with our principles, concentrate on one of its representatives. Richard Baxter stands out from many other literary representatives of the Puritan ethic by his eminently practical and irenic43 position, and at the same time by the universal recognition of his works, which have been reprinted many times and translated into various languages. A Presbyterian and apologist for the Westminster Synod, and yet—like so many of the finest minds of his time—gradually growing away from the dogmas of High Calvinism, he was inwardly an opponent of Cromwell’s usurping of power, because he was averse to all revolution, to sects, and especially to the fanatical zeal of the “saints.” At the same time, he was very generous in his attitude toward external peculiarities and was objective toward his opponents. He sought out his field of activity essentially in the area of practical furtherance of church life and the moral life, and—as one of the most successful pastors in history—in this service he placed himself at the disposal of the parliamentary government, as well as of Cromwell and of the Restoration [221], and it was in this latter period that he eventually—before the “days of Saint Bartholomew”—left office. His “Christian Directory” is the most comprehensive compendium of Puritan moral theology in existence, while at the same time being based on his practical experience of pastoral care. For comparison we shall also, in rather cursory fashion, due to shortage of space, consider Spener’s “Theologische Bedenken,” representing German Pietism, Barclay’s “Apology,” representing Quakerism, and other representatives of ascetic ethics [222, 223].
If we take Baxter’s “The Saints’ Everlasting Rest” and his “Christian Directory” or similar works of other writers, what first strikes us in the judgments on wealth and its acquisition [Erwerb] is the stress on the “ebionitic”44 elements of the New Testament message. [224] Wealth as such is a serious danger, its temptations never cease, and the striving for it is not only pointless in the face of the overwhelming importance of the kingdom of God, but is also morally questionable. Calvin, far from seeing the wealth of the clergy as a hindrance to their effectiveness, saw it as giving them a thoroughly desirable increase in their prestige, and permitted them to invest their wealth for profit, although without giving offense. Baxter’s kind of asceticism, by contrast, seems directed against all striving toward the procurement [Erwerb] of temporal goods. This disapproval is strongly felt—however, we need to look more closely to appreciate its crucial ethical meaning and context. What is really reprehensible is resting on one’s possessions [225], enjoyment of wealth with its consequences of idleness and the lusts of the flesh, and particularly of distraction from the striving for a “holy” life. And it is only because possessions bring with them the danger of this resting that they are dubious. For the “saints’ everlasting rest” is to be found in the next life; on earth, if he is to be sure of his state of grace, man must “do the works of him who sent him, as long as it is day.” According to God’s unambiguously revealed will, it is only action, not idleness and indulgence, that serves to increase his glory. [226] Wasting time is therefore the first and most serious of all sins. The span of life is infinitely short and precious, and must be used to “secure” one’s own calling. Loss of time through socializing, “idle talk” [227], luxurious living [228], even more sleep than is required for health [229]—six to eight hours at the most—is morally, absolutely reprehensible. [230] Franklin’s maxim “Time is money” is not yet current, but it applies, to some extent, in a spiritual sense. It is infinitely valuable, because every lost hour means one less hour devoted to labor in the service of God’s glory. [231] Hence, inactive contemplation is also valueless and possibly quite reprehensible, at least when it is engaged in at the expense of labor in a calling. [232] For it is less pleasing to God than the active doing of his will in a calling. [233] Moreover, Sunday exists for this, and according to Baxter it is always those who are idle in their calling who have no time for God either at the appointed hour. [234]
Accordingly, there is a thread of constantly repeated, and at times almost passionate, preaching of hard, constant, physical or mental work running through Baxter’s writing. [235] Two motifs come together here. [236] Work is firstly the well-tried ascetic means for which it was always valued in the Western Church. [237] It is, in particular, the specific protection against all those temptations which for Puritanism comprise the concept of the “unclean life”—and its role should not be underestimated. For Puritanism, sexual asceticism differs only in degree, not in principle, from monastic asceticism, and, since it also applies to conjugal life, is more far-reaching than the latter. For even in marriage, sexual intercourse is only permissible as the means willed by God for the increase of his glory, in accordance with the command: “Be fruitful and multiply.” [238] Together with a moderate, vegetarian diet and cold baths, the prescription for all sexual temptations is the same as that for religious doubt and overscrupulous self-torment—“Work hard in your calling.” [239]
Above and beyond this, however, work is the end and purpose of life commanded by God. [240] The Pauline principle “He who will not work, shall not eat,” applies absolutely and to everyone. [241] Unwillingness to work is a symptom of the absence of the state of grace. [242]
There is a clear departure here from the medieval doctrine. According to Thomas Aquinas’s interpretation of the
Pauline principle [243], work is only necessary “naturali ratione” for the preservation of the life of the individual and the community. Where this purpose is missing, the validity of the command ceases along with it. It applies only to mankind in general, not to each individual. It does not apply to anyone who can live off his possessions without having to work, and similarly, of course, contemplation as a spiritual form of work for the kingdom of God is outside the scope of the command in its literal interpretation. For popular theology in particular, the highest form of monastic “productivity” lay in the increase of the “thesaurus ecclesiae” by prayer and chanting.
Baxter not only does away with these exceptions to the ethical duty of labor (which is only to be expected), but also insists as strongly as possible on the principle that even wealth does not excuse anyone from that unconditional command. [244] Those with possessions, too, should not eat unless they work, for even if they do not need to work to cover their subsistence needs, nevertheless God’s command remains in force, and they must obey it, just as the poor must do. [245] For everyone, without distinction, God’s providence has prepared a calling,45 which each person must recognize and work within, and this calling is not (as it is in Lutheranism) [246] a destiny to which one must submit and resign oneself, but a command of God to the individual to work to his glory. This seemingly slightly different nuance has far-reaching consequences and is connected to a further development of that providential interpretation of the economic cosmos with which the scholastics were already familiar.