J H Merle d’Aubigné
Luther quitted Rome, and returned to Wittenberg. His heart was full of sorrow and indignation; he turned his eyes with disgust from the papal city and directed them with hope to the Holy Scriptures. He separated from the Church to cling to the Word of God. The whole of the Reformation was in that one movement. It set God in the place of the priest.
Staupitz and the Elector of Saxony did not lose sight of the monk whom they had called to the University of Wittenberg. It appears as if Staupitz recognised the work that was to be done in the world and that, as he found it too difficult for himself, he wished to urge Luther towards it. It is remarkable to find this man, who urges Luther on in the path where God calls him, ending his days sadly in a cloister. The preaching of the young professor had made a deep impression on the Elector; he had admired his understanding, his forceful eloquence, and the excellence of what he expounded. The Elector and his friend wished to advance a man of such promise and resolved that he should take the degree of doctor of divinity. Staupitz went to the convent, took Luther into the garden and told him: “You must now become Doctor of the Holy Scriptures”.
Luther shrunk at the very thought. “Seek a more worthy person,” he replied; “as for me, I cannot consent to it.” Staupitz persisted: “Our Lord God has much to do in the Church: at this time He needs young and vigorous doctors”. “But I am weak and sickly”, replied Luther. “I have not long to live. Look out for some strong man.” “The Lord has work in heaven as well as on earth,”
1This is a further abridged extract from d’Aubigné’s The History of the Reformation in the Sixteenth Century, vol 1. This series marks the five-hundredth anniversary of the European Reformation. Last month’s article described Luther’s visit to Rome. It showed him that “no one can imagine what sins and infamous actions are committed in Rome; they must be seen and heard to believed”. It turned his thoughts to the reformation of the Church.
replied Staupitz; “dead or alive, He has need of you.” “It is the Holy Ghost alone that can make a doctor of divinity,” Luther then argued, still more alarmed. “Do what your convent requires,” said Staupitz, “and what I, your vicar-general, command; for you have promised to obey us.” “But my poverty,” Luther went on, “I have no means of defraying the expenses.” “Do not be uneasy about that,” replied his friend, “the prince has done you the favour of taking all the charges upon himself.” Luther thought it his duty to give way.
About the end of the summer of 1512 Luther set out for Leipzig to receive from the Elector’s treasurers the necessary money, but the money did not arrive. Luther grew impatient but monastic obedience detained him. At length, on October 4, he received the 50 florins and hastened to Wittenberg.
Andrew Bodenstein of the city of Carlstadt was at that time dean of the theological faculty, and is generally known as Carlstadt. He was of a serious and gloomy character, perhaps inclined to jealousy, and of a restless temper, but full of desire for knowledge. He attended several universities to augment his stores of learning and studied theology at Rome. On his return, he settled at Wittenberg and became a doctor of divinity. “At this time,” he said afterwards, “I had not yet read the Holy Scriptures.” This remark gives us a good idea of what theology then was. Besides being professor, Carlstadt was a canon and archdeacon. Such was the man who in after years was to create a schism in the Reformation. At this time he saw in Luther an inferior, but before long he became an object of jealousy to Carlstadt.
On 18 October 1512, Luther was made licentiate in divinity, and took the following oath: “I swear to defend the evangelical truth with all my might”. The next day, Bodenstein solemnly conferred on him the degree of doctor of divinity and Luther was thus called to devote himself to the study of the Bible, and not of human traditions. He then pledged himself by an oath to his beloved Holy Scriptures. He promised to preach them faithfully, to teach them with purity, to study them all his life, and to defend them, both in disputation and in writing, against all false teachers, so far as God should give him ability.
This solemn oath was Luther’s call to the work of reformation. By imposing on his conscience the holy obligation of searching freely, and boldly proclaiming, the Christian truth, this oath raised him above the narrow limits to which his monastic vow would perhaps have confined him. Called by the university, by his sovereign, in the name of the Emperor and of Rome itself, and bound before God by the most solemn oath, he became from that hour the most intrepid herald of the Word of life.
We may accordingly look upon this oath as one of the causes of the revival of the Church. The sole infallible authority of the Word of God was the
fundamental principle of the Reformation. Every detailed reform that was afterwards carried out in the doctrine, morals, or government of the Church and in its worship was a consequence of this first principle. We can scarcely imagine the sensation produced by this elementary but long-neglected truth. Only a few men, of more enlarged views than were common, foresaw its immense consequences. Before long the courageous voices of all the Reformers proclaimed this mighty principle, at the sound of which Rome shall crumble into dust: Christians receive no other doctrines than those founded on the express words of Jesus Christ, of the apostles and of the prophets. No man, no assembly of doctors, has a right to prescribe new ones.
Luther’s position was changed. The summons he had received was to him as one of those extraordinary calls which the Lord addressed to the prophets under the Old Testament and to the apostles under the New. The recollection of his oath was sufficient, in after years, to console him in the midst of the greatest dangers and of the fiercest conflicts. And when he saw all Europe agitated and shaken by the Word that he had proclaimed; when the accusations of Rome, the reproaches of many pious men, the doubts and fears of his own too-sensitive heart seemed likely to make him hesitate, fear and fall into despair, he called to mind the oath he had taken and remained steadfast, calm and full of joy.
At another time he said, “He who undertakes anything, without God’s call, seeks his own glory. But I, Doctor Martin Luther, was forced to become a doctor. Popery desired to stop me in the performance of my duty, but you see what has happened to it, and worse still will befall it. They cannot defend themselves against me. I am determined, in God’s name, to tread upon the lions, to trample dragons and serpents under foot. This will begin during my life and will be accomplished after my death.”
From the time of his oath, Luther no longer sought the truth only for himself, but also for the Church. This was the third epoch of his development. His entrance into the cloister had turned his thoughts towards God; the knowledge of the remission of sins and of the righteousness of faith had emancipated his soul; his oath as a doctor gave him that baptism of fire by which he became a reformer of the Church.
His ideas were soon generally directed towards the Reformation. In an address that he had written, as it would seem, to be delivered by a cleric at the Fifth Lateran Council (1512-17), he declared that the corruption of the world originated through priests teaching so many fables and traditions, instead of preaching the pure Word of God. The Word of life alone, he wrote, had power to effect spiritual regeneration. Thus he made the salvation of the world depend on the re-establishment of sound doctrine and not on a mere
reformation of morals. Yet Luther still entertained contradictory opinions, but he courageously broke the bonds within which previous ages had so closely confined him and opened up new paths. God was with him.
The first adversaries he attacked were those famous schoolmen,2 whom he had himself so much studied, who then reigned supreme in all the universities. He accused them of Pelagianism, and spoke forcibly against Aristotle3 and Thomas Aquinas. In every public discussion he was heard saying of the divinity of the Middle Ages: “The writings of the apostles and prophets are surer and more sublime”. Such language was new, but men gradually became used to it. About a year later he was able to write with exultation: “God is at work. Our theology and Augustine advance admirably and prevail in our university. Aristotle is declining; he is tottering towards his eternal ruin, that is near at hand. The lectures on the Sentences4 produce nothing but weariness. No one can hope for hearers, unless he professes the biblical theology.” Happy the university of which such testimony can be given!
About this period, Luther formed another friendship that was of great importance through the whole of his life. There was at that time at the Elector’s court a man remarkable for his wisdom and his candour: this was George Spalatin. He had been a village curate but was afterwards chosen by Frederick the Wise to be his secretary, chaplain, and tutor to his nephew, John Frederick, who was himself to become elector. Spalatin appeared timid in the presence of great events; he was circumspect and prudent, like his master and corresponded daily with the ardent Luther. Spalatin was not a man to effect great undertakings, but he faithfully and noiselessly performed the task imposed upon him. He was at first a principal helper of his master in collecting those relics of saints which Frederick so long admired greatly. But he, as well as the prince, turned by degrees towards the truth. He became Luther’s friend at court, but he could gladly have quit all these honours and become once more a simple pastor in the forests of Thuringia. But Luther exhorted him to remain firm at his post. Spalatin acquired general esteem: princes and learned men showed him the most sincere regard.
Faith is a simple and operative dependence on the testimony of God, in the absence of all other evidence.
Our hopes or desires, even more than our actions, depend upon our characters. The principles of the righteous are better than their outward character. The principles of the ungodly are worse than their outward character.
James Stewart
2The theologians of the Middle Ages, of whom Thomas Aquinas was the best known.
3Aristotle was a Greek philosopher who had great influence in the Mediaeval Church.
4The commonest divinity textbook during the Middle Ages, compiled by Peter Lombard.