Luther: A Life by John M. Todd
Chapter 9: What Is the Church?
From December 1518 there was a lull in the Martin Luther affair.
Cardinal Cajetan had failed to deliver either a recantation or Martin Luther in person, and had antagonised the Elector. The Roman Curia put the case into the officious hands of an ambitious young Saxon, papal chamberlain Karl von Miltitz, still in his twenties. The case ceased to occupy a place of much importance by comparison with the future of the Empire. The Emperor was dying, and finally died on 12 January 1519.
The lobbying for the election of his successor became intense and
remained so until the matter was resolved at Frankfurt in June. Nineteen- year-old French speaking Charles Habsburg, already ruler of most of Spain, the Netherlands and Burgundy was elected in spite of all the attempts by Pope and Curia to prevent it. A full record of the
machinations involved with the German Electors, with Francis I of France and Henry VIII of England and his ministers would themselves make a large book. The Luther affair was not resumed by Rome till the turn of the year 1519-20, and it was nine months after that before the resumption began to have any emphatic results as far as the general public were concerned. In the meantime, however, the whole of Germany and much of the rest of northern Europe were becoming flooded with Luther’s writings.
The first trickle of writings had begun in 1516 and 1517 with the two German pieces; and Luther was already writing a great number of
letters, always in Latin unless he was writing to rulers with whom it was usually wiser to communicate in German. In the second half of 1517 had come the two sets of Latin dialectical theses, the second being taken up very widely to his great surprise and translated into German,
becoming ‘Martin Luther’s 95 Theses’. Then the need to explain these
led to the first full-scale Latin work The Explanations, immediately followed by the very brief German sermon pamphlet, for general consumption, with similar explanatory but also pastoral purpose. Then began the experience of having to put out correct versions of texts
published precipitately by both friends and enemies, of spoken material, in the first case on the Lord’s prayer, and in the second on The Ban. And at the end of 1518 came Luther’s account of the Augsburg encounter with Cajetan.
By early 1519, Luther’s magnetism as a preacher and lecturer, his
eloquent and imaginative presentation of current concerns, together with his notoriety, were drawing students, young and old, to Wittenberg and readers to his writings. The little town was swarming with them. During 1519, a spate of German writings began to flow from his pen, non- polemical writings, designed for the traditional religious purposes of instruction and comfort, reminding people of that on which they ultimately depended, designed to nurture their true freedom. People asked for these things and Luther responded: A Meditation on Christ’s Passion, The Lord’s Prayer, Rogationtide Prayers, On Preparing to Die, Fourteen Consolations (written especially for the Elector who was very ill in the autumn and likely to die — it was to replace the Fourteen Saints to whom people pie commonly turned), and finally How
Confession should be Made. Towards the end of the year Luther turned to the Sacraments of Penance, Baptism and the Mass, again in German;
these were for general non-academic consumption, but Luther used them to enable him to move towards a re-cast understanding of the Sacraments at a serious intellectual level. Early in 1519, came an important short sermon on Marriage with a warm confident note to it:
‘Married people can do no better work than bring up their children well’
— that was better than any work ofpiety. There was also strictly academic Latin fare; his Lectures on Galatians and a volume of his Psalms Commentary were published for the first time.
Then there were writings connected with the public theological
controversy. In February 1519, Luther issued a brief Latin guide to his position on six controverted matters, Saints, Purgatory, Indulgences, the Church’s commandments, Good Works, and the Roman Church, in his Apologia Vernacula. As far as concerned the controversial writings, from this time on they were almost entirely related to a debate with Johann Eck to be held at the end of June 1519 at Leipzig, leading up to it or flowing from it. Finally, correspondence poured out in a never- ending stream. By 1520, the totality of Luther’s writings had come to
bewilder the public. Every week there seemed to be some new pamphlet on sale with its wood engraving on the cover. Enemies put around
rumours that this or that person was the true author of this or that of Luther’s writings. But, in fact, Luther was the author of the whole extraordinary corpus.
Luther’s authorship had received something like the seal of
respectability. Froben, Erasmus’s publisher in Basle, had issued in the autumn of 1518 a collection of his shorter Latin writings. Being in Latin they were available to every educated person in Europe and were soon in sharp demand; 600 copies were sold by Froben at the Frankfurt Spring Book Fair, destined for towns all over Europe from Cambridge to Spain and Italy. Further editions followed. But in no case did the canny Froben, warned by Erasmus, print his name as printer, nor did Wolfgang Capito his assistant put his name to the fervent Introduction he had written: ‘Here you have the theological works of the Reverend Martin Luther, whom many consider a Daniel sent at length in mercy by Christ to correct abuses and restore a theology based on the Gospel and Paul . . .’
Luther was drawing every kind of human being to himself from the ordinary layman needing counsel, to civil servants wanting advice, from the Elector himself wanting religious comfort and Spalatin requesting theological explanation, to the scholars and academics trying to keep up with his latest theological speculation, on that which lay at the heart of Society’s Myth. For a long time there had been crazes for great itinerant preachers. To hear them was both entertainment and inspiration. They were often outspoken about the misdoings of princes and popes, and abuses generally, but they normally kept well within the parameters of the theological party line, and the received structures. As a popular preacher, Luther was exceptional in being also a genuine scholar— a true Renaissance man. But he was unlike the Renaissance man in that his own personal problems lent a bitter urgency, a sense of emotional desperation and intensity and determination to all he said, eyes flashing, calm voice firmly enunciating, occasional smile revealing a man still with roots deep in the Saxon soil from which he continued to draw a stream of homely metaphors and coarse comment. His philological approach to language, encouraged by Erasmus and the whole neo- classical movement, together with his long training in rhetoric and his love of classical literature, all contributed to his success. But, above all, success was due to the personal flair for language, his message, set into the satisfactory and effective sentences of a rough and energetic
German, just emerging as a complete expressive medium.
In February 1519, Luther counted four months since he had said a hurried auf wiedersehen to Staupitz at Augsburg. Not a word had he heard since then. He was sad about it, even resentful. He longed to be personally close to his spiritual superior and mentor, and to share events with him. But Staupitz stayed safely away from it all in the south, at Salzburg. On 20 February, Luther wrote: ‘ To the Reverend and excellent Father John Staupitz, vicar of the Eremites of St Augustine, my patron and superior, honoured in Christ. Even though you are so far away and silent, Reverend Father, and do not write to us who are eager to hear from you, I shall nevertheless break the silence. I wish — all of us wish — to see you in this part of the country.’
Luther plunged into an emphatic statement of his own inner emotional and spiritual troubles, It was to Staupitz more than anyone that he could reveal his inner turmoil. ‘I believe my Proceedings [at Augsburg] have reached you and that you know about Rome’s anger and indignation.
God is pushing me — he drives me on, rather than leading. I cannot control my own life. I long to be quiet but am driven into the middle of the storm.’
He gave the news of a meeting between himself and Miltitz at Altenburg (where Spalatin held a Canonry): ‘He complained that I have pulled the whole world to my side and alienated it from the Pope. He said he had explored all the pubs and found that for every five people, barely two or three favour the Roman party.’ Arbitration was suggested by Miltitz, and Luther agreed: ‘I nominated the Archbishops of Salzburg, Trier and Freising. He entertained me in the evening, we had a good time at
dinner, he kissed me, and so we parted. I pretended not to see through this Italian act and insincerity.’ A series of negotiations, which included the Elector, went on all through the next two years, showing a healthy record of activity on Miltitz’s work sheet, achieving, however, nothing but the steadily deepening disillusionment both of Luther and of the Electoral Court with Roman ways.
Part of Miltitz’s operation, an attempt to mollify Luther, was to make an example of Tetzel the Indulgence preacher, whose financial accounts were not above suspicion. Tetzel was requested to come to meet the young chamberlain at Altenburg, but declared himself unable to travel, being ill, and also without a safe conduct pass. He was frightened to be seen in public so swiftly and fiercely had public opinion turned against
him. Luther told Staupitz: ‘Now Tetzel has disappeared and nobody knows where he has gone except perhaps the Fathers of his Order.’
Later in the year, he wrote Tetzel a letter of kindly commiseration in his serious and eventually fatal illness.
The letter to Staupitz moved on to Johann Eck, who in controversial mood had recently turned to attack Erasmus, much to the astonishment of the latter, as well as Karlstadt and Luther. ‘Finally my Eck, that deceitful man, is again dragging me into a new controversy. . . Thus the Lord sees to it that I am not idle; but Christ willing, this debate will end sadly for Roman laws and practices, those reeds on which Eck leans for support.’ Then Luther had something to boast about: ‘I wish you could see my shorter works, published at Basle, so that you could realise what educated people think of me, and of Eck and of Sylvester and the
scholastic theologians.’ But Staupitz had seen the Froben volume and knew only too well what ‘educated people’ were thinking of these matters. Copies of the book were all over Europe. In March, Cardinal Wolsey’s agents discovered a copy hidden in a bale of wool imported into England. Luther enjoyed telling Staupitz of his success, and of a deliberate misprint – Magirus (cook) being printed instead of
Magister(master): ‘The amusing fellows, the printers, by an intentional error call Sylvester magirus palatti instead of Magister Palatii; they needle him with other remarks which are quite biting. This affair will be quite a blow to the Roman dignitaries.’
Luther continued with his own fears and burdens, and his need of
support: ‘I beg you to pray for me. I am exposed to and overwhelmed by the world with all its drunkenness, insults, carelessness and other
annoyances, not counting the problems which burden me in my office.’
As he and his cause grew more important, Luther felt it was time that he was in direct contact with Erasmus. On 28 March he at last wrote a letter to the great man, attempting an elegant style and a way of
speaking not totally congenial to him. In the convoluted embarrassment of his sentences, Luther seems to turn again into the shy young man inviting Fr Braun to his first Mass, self assertive and self-deprecating at the same time:
I am foolish that I, with unwashed hands and without a reverential and honorific introduction, address you, such great man, as it were, in the most familiar tone. But in your kindness, may you attribute this either to my
affection or to my lack of skill. Although I have spent my life among academics, yet I have not learned enough to greet a learned man by letter. Were this not so, I would have troubled you a long time ago with I don’t know how many letters, and would not have endured that you should always speak to me only in my cell.
It was clearly written by someone who knew his Latin classics. But, equally, it was clearly written by someone who was not fully at home in the Renaissance style, lacking the sophisticated detachment which generally went along with the cult of ‘good letters’.
A further section of the letter continued with praise of Erasmus: ‘I feel compelled to acknowledge (even if in a most elementary letter) your outstanding spirit . . . My Erasmus. kindly man, if it seems acceptable to you, acknowledge also this little brother in Christ.’ Luther said he
wanted to remain buried in some little corner (the angulum again), but now, to his shame his lack of knowledge was laid bare for the learned to see. The letter then took on the lineaments of over-familiarity. He told Erasmus that Melancthon overworked and Erasmus might perhaps tell him to be careful. And suddenly: ‘Andreas Karlstadt, in great reverence for the Christ dwelling in you, sends greetings. The Lord Jesus himself preserve you into eternal life, excellent Erasmus. Amen.. I was verbose;
but remember that one ought not always to read only learned letters.
Sometimes you have to be weak with the weak. Wittenberg, 28 March 1519.’ So a quotation from St Paul on sympathetic weakness brought Luther on to better loved ground, and a suitable ending after a rather artificial apology for the verbosity of a letter which was not in fact very long. Erasmus was in contact with the Elector at the time (as with so many of the leading figures in Europe), having dedicated a recent new edition of Suetonius’ History to him. He felt he must do something about Luther, prompted both by Luther’s letter and by a visit just then from Fr Justus Jonas, Augustinian, now Rector of Erfurt University. In a letter to Frederick of 14 April 1519 Erasmus expressed his irritation at the cry of ‘heretic’ which was always being raised, and said he had not studied Luther’s writings carefully, but that his character was regarded as above suspicion. The best men in Antwerp read him. The Elector replied, echoing respect for Luther’s character, and some official
support for his cause generally, without committing himself formally to Luther in person. It would have been most unlike him to make such a commitment in any case in writing to a third party. But in both
Frederick’s and Erasmus’s communications can be sensed a concern
about Luther’s increasingly strong language and his wayward approach to problems. There was plenty of precedent for Luther’s emotive
language, not least in the denunciations of evil by the Jewish prophets, and by the greatest prophet of them all, Jesus of Nazareth. But Frederick was a sovereign, with the welfare of his state to think of. And Erasmus was ever intensely concerned above all with the future of scholarship, and was always worrying lest the new learning would be attacked and put into reverse.
The reservations in Erasmus’s letter were less important than the sheer fact that the best known literary man in Europe had written a letter essentially in support of Luther to Luther’s Sovereign. Without scruple, the text of the letter was copied and spread about Europe. Spalatin did a German translation for the purpose. Luther was delighted — and not delighted. He wrote to Spalatin: ‘The letter of Erasmus pleases me and our friends very much. However, I would have preferred not only not to be mentioned personally in it, but not to have been praised, especially by such an outstanding man.’ Luther continued about various University affairs, and hoped to catch Spalatin before he left with the Elector for the Diet to be held by Frederick Elector and Reichsvikar in Frankfurt for the election of the new emperor.
Erasmus replied directly to Luther late in May, in a supportive but careful letter, written of course in his usual beautiful style. It showed up all the temperamental differences between Luther and Erasmus. Peace rather than violence was the message. The Pope himself should not be attacked but only those who abuse papal authority. Erasmus admitted to being concerned that people thought he had helped Luther with his writings, but commended Luther for his Psalms commentary. He told Luther that some of the top people (maximi) in England thought highly of his writings. It was a friendly letter, but one attempting to turn Luther into a quiet, optimistic, scholarly reformer, rather than the distraught theologian-poet, the small-town idealist the anxious pastor torn with concern for those misled, the cultured and uncultured alike, by wrong- headed institutional religion. Erasmus suggested that there was always a danger, as one became famous, of desire for glory — and anger and hatred were not good. Luther knew about the anger and its
inappropriateness but, as he had said to Staupitz, ‘I cannot control my own life . . . I am driven into the middle of the storm.’ Erasmus,
frequently consulted by the highest in Church and State, continued his efforts to keep the rising storm down, using his own personal reputation to do so, writing a letter to the Pope in August and to Albert the
Archbishop of Mainz in November. In the latter, he did not entirety excuse Luther for being too loud-mouthed but said he was provoked, and blamed ecclesiastical authority severely for the difficulties with him. Albert was pleased to be in touch with the great scholar, but
continued to keep the low profile he had always cultivated in matters of theology.
Luther was preparing for the proposed debate at Leipzig. A letter to Spalatin on 13 March referred to his researches in this respect. But first on University affairs — Luther resisted the idea that Melancthon should take over the lectures on Aristotle’s Physics, a suggestion from
Frederick’s Treasurer intent on resisting further escalation of salaries.
‘Aristotle’s Physics is an entirely useless subject . . .These lectures had better be continued only until they can be abolished.’
After references to his various publications and his evening parish courses on the Our Father and the Commandments, Luther went on to the frightening thoughts which were arising in his mind as he was reading the history of papal decrees. ‘I am studying the papal decrees for the debate. Confidentially I do not know whether the Pope is Antichrist himself or whether he is his apostle, so miserably is Christ corrupted and crucified by the Pope . . .’ He was returning to the frightening thought about Antichrist which had first arisen in his mind the previous autumn. Antichrist was a word used originally in St John’s Letters in the New Testament to indicate those who deny that Jesus is God, and subsequently widely used over the centuries to indicate some final manifestation of the devil before the end of the world — it was resorted to when all ordinary explanations seemed insufficient to explain events, or when the emotions such events aroused needed the greatest possible verbal outlet. Luther was not the first to suggest that the ‘Pope’, apart from the goodness or badness of the reigning Pope, must be Antichrist. From a belief that he was the Head of God’s Church, Christ’s ‘Vicar on Earth’ as a grossly exaggerated theologism
sometimes had it, it was not difficult to shift to the extreme opposite. So corrupt, so appalling did events sometimes seem, that perhaps the only explanation of it must be that Evil had crept somehow into the very highest place of all. Following the dangerous reference to Antichrist, Luther said with a deep subjectivism which frightened Spalatin: ‘Daily greater and greater help and support wells up in me by virtue of the authority of Holy Scripture.’ He thought Luther’s arguments well based.
But this sense of certainty without reference to anything but Scripture, made him wonder. With a further reference to other letters, books, the