16. Luther and the Papacy
J H Merle d’Aubigné
Truth had raised her head in Christendom. Victorious over the inferior ministers of the papacy, she was now to struggle with its chief. We are about to contemplate Luther contending with Rome.
It was after his return from Heidelberg that he took this bold step. His early theses on the indulgences had been misunderstood. He decided to explain their meaning more clearly. From the clamours that a blind hatred extorted from his enemies, he had learnt how important it was to win over the most enlightened part of the nation to the truth, he therefore resolved to appeal to its judgement, by setting forth the bases for his new conviction. It was necessary at once to challenge Rome; he did not hesitate to send his explanations to the pontiff.
These explanations, which he called Resolutions, were written in a very moderate tone. Luther endeavoured to soften down the passages that had occasioned the greatest irritation, and thus gave proof of genuine humility. But at the same time he showed that he was unshaken in his convictions, and courageously defended all the propositions which truth obliged him to maintain. He repeated once more that every truly penitent Christian possesses remission of sins without papal indulgences; that the pope, like the lowest priest, can do no more than simply declare what God has already pardoned; that the treasury of the merits of the saints, administered by the pope, was an illusion; and that the Holy Scriptures were the sole rule of faith. But let us hear his own statements on some of these points.
He begins by establishing the nature of real repentance, and contrasts the act of God which regenerates man with the foolish performances of the Church of Rome. He stated that the Greek word for repent “signifies, put on a new spirit, a new mind, take a new nature – so that ceasing to be earthly, you may become heavenly. . . . Christ is a teacher of the spirit and not of the letter, and His words are spirit and life. He teaches therefore a repentance in spirit and in truth, and not those outward penances that can be performed by the proudest sinners without humiliation. He wills a repentance that can be effected in every situation of life.”
Further on we meet with this bold language: “I do not care for what pleases or displeases the Pope. He is a man like other men. There have been
1This is a further abridged extract from d’Aubigné’s The History of the Reformation in the Sixteenth Century, vol 1, continuing from where the series was paused in March 2018. That article included Luther’s appearance at the Disputation in Heidelberg
many popes who loved not only errors and vices, but still more extraordinary things.” “I cannot help wondering,” continues Luther, “at the simplicity of those who have asserted that the two swords of the Gospel represent: one the spiritual, the other the secular power. Yes, the Pope wields a sword of iron; it is thus he exhibits himself to Christendom: not as a tender father, but as a formidable tyrant.”
“It is impossible,” says Luther in another place, “for a man to be a Christian without having Christ; and if he has Christ, he possesses at the same time all that belongs to Christ. What gives peace to our consciences is this – by faith our sins are no longer ours, but Christ’s, on whom God has laid them all; and, on the other hand, all Christ’s righteousness belongs to us, to whom God has given it. Christ lays His hand on us, and we are healed. He casts His mantle over us, and we are sheltered; for He is the glorious Saviour, blessed for evermore.” With such views of the riches of salvation by Jesus Christ, there was no longer any need of indulgences.
He soon comes to the point: “I will say what I mean, boldly and briefly: the Church needs a reformation. And this cannot be the work either of a single man, as the Pope; or of many men, as the cardinals and councils; but it must be that of the whole world, or rather it is a work that belongs to God alone. As for the time in which such a reformation should begin, He alone knows, who has created all time. . . . The dyke is broken, and it is no longer in our power to restrain the impetuous and overwhelming billows.”
This is a sample of the declarations and ideas which Luther addressed to his enlightened fellow-countrymen. He sent his book to his superior, the Bishop of Brandenburg with the following letter: “It is now some time since a new and unheard-of doctrine touching the apostolic indulgences began to make a noise in this country; the learned and the ignorant were troubled by it; and many people, some known, some personally unknown to me, begged me to declare by sermon or by writing what I thought of the novelty, I will not say the impudence, of this doctrine. At first I was silent and kept in the background. But at last things came to such a pass that the Pope’s holiness was compromised.2 What could I do? I thought it my duty neither to approve nor condemn these doctrines, but to originate a discussion on this important subject, until the Holy Church should decide.
“As no one accepted the challenge I had given to the whole world, and since my theses3 have been considered, not as matters for discussion, but as positive assertions, I find myself compelled to publish an explanation of
2Note that, at this stage, Luther had yet to learn that the Roman Church was corrupt at its core. Before long he would think of the Pope in a very different way.
3The 95 Theses that were nailed to the door of the church in Wittenberg.
them. . . . And that all the world may see that I do not act presumptuously, I entreat your reverence to take pen and ink and blot out, or even throw into the fire and burn, anything that may offend you. I know that Jesus Christ needs neither my labours nor my services, and that He will know how to proclaim His glad tidings to the Church without my aid. Not that the bulls and the threats of my enemies alarm me; quite the contrary. If they were not so impudent, so shameless, no one should hear of me; I would hide myself in a corner and there study alone for my own good. If this affair is not God’s, it certainly shall no longer be mine or any other man’s, but a thing of nought. Let the honour and the glory be His to whom alone they belong!”
Luther was still filled with respect for the head of the Church. He supposed Leo to be a righteous man and a sincere lover of the truth. He resolved therefore to write to him. A week after, on 30 May 1518, he penned a letter, from which we give a few specimens:
“To the most blessed Father Leo X, sovereign bishop, Martin Luther, an Augustine friar, wishes eternal salvation.
“I am informed, most holy Father, that wicked reports are in circulation about me, and that my name is in bad odour with your holiness. I am called a heretic, apostate, traitor and a thousand other insulting names. What I see fills me with surprise. . . . But the only foundation of my tranquillity remains – a pure and peaceful conscience.”
After relating the origin of the matter, Luther continues, “In all the taverns nothing was heard but complaints against the avarice of the priests, and attacks against the power of the keys and of the sovereign bishop. Of this the whole of Germany is a witness. When I was informed of these things, my zeal was aroused for the glory of Christ, as it appeared to me; or, if another explanation is sought, my young and warm blood was inflamed.
“I forewarned several princes of the Church; but some laughed at me and others turned a deaf ear. The terror of your name seemed to restrain everyone. I then published my disputation. And behold, most holy Father, the conflagration that is reported to have set the whole world on fire.
“Now what shall I do? I cannot retract, and I see that this publication draws down upon me an inconceivable hatred from every side. I have no wish to appear before the world; for I have no learning, no genius and am far too little for such great matters.
“But in order to quieten my adversaries, and to reply to the solicitations of many friends, I here publish my thoughts. I publish them, holy Father, that I may be in greater safety under the shadow of your wings. All those who desire it will thus understand with what simplicity of heart I have called upon the ecclesiastical authority to instruct me, and what respect I have shown
to the power of the keys. If I had not behaved with propriety, it would have been impossible for the most serene lord, Frederick, duke and elector of Saxony, who shines among the friends of the apostolic and Christian truth, to have ever endured in his University of Wittenberg a man so dangerous as I am asserted to be.
“For this reason, most holy Father, I fall at the feet of your holiness, and submit myself to you, with all that I have and with all that I am. Destroy my cause or espouse it; declare me right or wrong; take away my life or restore it, as you please. I shall acknowledge your voice as the voice of Jesus Christ, who presides and speaks through you. If I have merited death, I shall not refuse to die; the earth is the Lord’s, and all that is in it. May He be praised through all eternity! Amen. May He uphold you for ever! Amen.”
This language is widely different from that of a proud fanatic. We see in Luther an earnest desire to gain over Leo to the cause of truth, to prevent all schism, and to cause the Reformation, the necessity of which he proclaims, to proceed from the head of the Church. Assuredly he should not be accused of destroying the unity of the Western Church. It was not he, it was his adversaries who did so.
On the very same day, Luther wrote in a letter to his friend Staupitz, vicar-general of his order: “I have neither property nor money, and I do not desire any. If formerly I possessed any honour, any reputation, let Him who has begun to deprive me of them complete His task. All that is left to me is a wretched body, weakened by many trials. Should they kill me by stratagem or by force, to God be the glory! They will thus, perhaps, shorten my life by an hour or two. It is enough for me that I have a precious Redeemer, a powerful High Priest, Jesus Christ my Lord. As long as I live, I will praise Him.” In these words we read Luther’s inmost heart.
While he was thus looking with confidence towards Rome, Rome already entertained thoughts of vengeance against him. As early as April 3, Cardinal Raphael of Rovera had written to the Elector Frederick, in the Pope’s name, intimating that his orthodoxy was suspected, and cautioning him against protecting Luther. “Cardinal Raphael”, said Luther, “ would have had great pleasure in seeing me burnt by Frederick.” Rome was beginning to sharpen her weapons against Luther. It was through his protector that she resolved to aim the first blow. If she succeeded in destroying the shelter under which the monk of Wittenberg was reposing, he would become an easy prey.
The German princes were very tenacious of their reputation for orthodoxy. The slightest suspicion of heresy filled them with alarm. The court of Rome had skillfully taken advantage of this disposition. Moreover Frederick had always been attached to the religion of his forefathers; hence Raphael’s letter
made a deep impression on his mind. But it was a rule with the Elector never to act precipitately. He knew that truth was not always on the side of the strongest. He had found out that to be a Christian prince, it was not necessary to be the pope’s slave.
Frederick committed himself to God. He carefully perused the books that appeared, and did not allow anything to be destroyed which he believed to be true. It was not from lack of power; besides being sovereign in his own states, in the Empire he enjoyed a degree of respect very little less than was paid to the Emperor himself.
Probably Luther learned something about Cardinal Raphael’s letter. Perhaps it was the prospect of excommunication which this Roman missive seemed to forebode that induced him to deliver a sermon in Wittenberg, on the subject; it made a deep impression. He drew a distinction between external and internal excommunication: the former excluding only from the services of the Church, the latter from communion with God. “No one,” he said, “can reconcile the fallen sinner with God except the Eternal One. No one can separate man from God except man himself by his own sins. Blessed is he who dies under an unjust excommunication. While he suffers a grievous punishment at the hands of men for righteousness’ sake, he receives from the hand of God the crown of everlasting happiness.”
Some of the hearers loudly commended this bold language; others were still more exasperated by it. But Luther no longer stood alone. Although his faith required no other support than that of God, a phalanx which defended him against his enemies had grown up around him. The German people had heard the voice of the Reformer. From his sermons and writings issued those flashes of light which aroused and illumined his contemporaries. The life that God had placed in this extraordinary mind communicated itself to the dead body of the Church. Christendom, motionless for so many centuries, became animated with religious enthusiasm. The people’s attachment to the Romish superstitions diminished day by day; fewer hands offered money to purchase forgiveness, and Luther’s reputation continued to increase. The people turned towards him and saluted him with love and respect, as the intrepid defender of truth and liberty.
Undoubtedly, not all saw the depth of the doctrines he proclaimed. For the greater number it was sufficient to know that he stood up against the Pope, and that the dominion of the priests and monks was shaken by the might of his word. In their eyes, Luther’s attack was like those beacon fires which announce to a whole nation that the time to burst their chains has arrived. The Reformer was not aware of what he had done, until the noble-minded portion of the nation had already hailed him as their leader. But for a great
number, Luther’s coming was something more. The Word of God, which he so skilfully wielded, pierced their hearts like a two-edged sword, kindling an earnest desire to obtain assurance of pardon and eternal life.
Since the Apostles, the Church had never witnessed such hungering and thirsting after righteousness. At the first outburst, Luther’s writings had carried away believers and unbelievers alike – the unbelievers, because the positive doctrines that were afterwards to be settled had not yet been fully developed; the believers, because the germs of these doctrines were found in that living faith which his writings proclaimed with so much power. They filled Germany in an instant. A secret conviction prevailed that men were about to witness, not the establishment of a sect, but a new birth of the Church and of society. Those who were then born of the Holy Ghost rallied around him. Christendom was divided into two parties: one contended with the spirit against the form, and the other with the form against the spirit. On the side of the form were, it is true, all the appearances of strength and grandeur; on the side of the spirit were helplessness and insignificance. But form, apart from spirit, is feeble, and the first breath of wind may throw it down. Its apparent power only excites hostility and hastens its destruction. Thus the simple Word of truth raised a powerful army for Luther.