Chapter 1 of 4

2. The Flood of Catechisms (1525-27)

2. The Flood of Catechisms (1525-27)

Law and Gospel

Texts and Studies in Reformation and Post-Reformation Thought

General Editor

Prof. Richard A. Muller, Calvin Theological Seminary

Editorial Board

Prof. Irena Backus, University of Geneva

Prof. A. N. S. Lane, London Bible College

Prof. Susan E. Schreiner, University of Chicago

Prof. David C. Steinmetz, Duke University

Prof. John L. Thompson, Fuller Theological Seminary

Prof. Willem J. van Asselt, University of Utrecht

Prof. Timothy J. Wengert, The Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia

Prof. Henry Zwaanstra, Calvin Theological Seminary

Caspar Olevianus, A Firm Foundation: An Aid to Interpreting the Heidelberg Catechism, translated, with an introduction by Lyle D. Bierma.

John Calvin, The Bondage and Liberation of the Will: A Defence of the Orthodox Doctrine of Human Choice against Pighius, edited by A. N. S. Lane, translated by G. I. Davies.

Law and Gospel: Philip Melanchthon's Debate with John Agricola of Eisleben over Poenitentia, by Timothy J. Wengert.

Martin Luther: Prophet, Teacher, Hero: Luther's Function in the Life of the Church, 1520-1620, by Robert Kolb. (forthcoming)

Jerome Zanchi, On the Christian Faith, translated, with an introduction by John L. Farthing. (forthcoming)

Heinrich Heppe, Reformed Dogmatics, Set Out and Illustrated from the Sources, translated by G. T. Thompson, with a new introduction and corrections by Richard A. Muller. (forthcoming)

Theodore Beza, Eternal Predestination and Its Execution in Time: Beza's Tabula Praedestinationis or Summa totius Christianismi (1555), translated, with an introduction, notes, and appendices by Richard A. Muller. (forthcoming)

Benedict Pictet, Christian Theology, translated by Frederick Reyroux, revised, edited, and with an introduction by Martin I. Klauber. (forthcoming)

Law and Gospel

Philip Melanchthon's Debate

with John Agricola of Eisleben

over Poenitentia

Timothy J. Wengert

a Labyrinth Book

Table of Contents

Series Preface 7

Preface 9

Abbreviations 13

Introduction 15

1. Calm before the Storm: Agricola's Biblical Exegesis from 1525 to 1527 23

2. The Flood of Catechisms (1525-27) 47

3. Melanchthon's First Attacks on Agricola (1527) 77

4. Tempest in the Torgau (August-November 1527) 103

5. The Aftermath (1527-53) 139

6. Justifying Good Work: The Origins of the Concept of the Third Use of the Law (1534) 177

Appendix 1. The Exegetical Works of John Agricola 211

Appendix 2. Early Catechisms (Additions to the Work of Ferdinand Cohrs) 213

Appendix 3. The Printing History of the Latin Version of Philip Melanchthon's Visitation Articles 217

Bibliography 219

Scripture Index 225

Subject Index 227

Series Preface

The heritage of the Reformation is of profound importance to the church in the present day. Yet there remain many significant gaps in our knowledge of the intellectual development of Protestantism in the sixteenth century, and there are not a few myths about the theology of the Protestant orthodox writers of the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. These gaps and myths, frequently caused by ignorance of the scope of a particular thinker's work, by negative theological judgments passed on the theology of the Reformers or their successors by later generations, or by an intellectual imperialism of the present that singles out some thinkers and ignores others regardless of their relative significance to their own times, stand in the way of a substantive encounter with this important period in our history. Understanding and appropriation of that heritage can occur only through the publication of significant works-monographs and sound, scholarly translations-that present the breadth and detail of the thought of the Reformers and their successors.

Texts and Studies in Reformation and Post-Reformation Thought proposes to make available such works as Caspar Olevianus's Firm Foundation, Theodore Beza's Table of Predestination, and Jerome Zanchi's Confession of Faith, together with significant monographs on traditional Reformed theology, under the guidance of an editorial board of recognized scholars in the field. Major older works, like Heppe's Reformed Dogmatics, will be reprinted or reissued with new introductions. These works, moreover, are intended to address two groups: an academic and a confessional or churchly audience. The series recognizes the need for careful, scholarly treatment of the Reformation and of the era of Protestant orthodoxy, given the continuing presence of misunderstandings particularly of the later era in both the scholarly and the popular literature as well as the recent interest in reappraising the relationship of the Reformation to Protestant orthodoxy. In addition, however, the series hopes to provide the church at large with worthy documents from its rich heritage and thereby to support and to stimulate interest in the roots of the Protestant tradition.

Richard A. Muller

Preface

"During the inspection of churches [in 1527] we [Philip Melanchthon and law professor Jerome Schurff] discovered many kinds of ineptitudes.... When we tried to emend these things, I also got my ears boxed, so that afterwards others often attacked me."1 So Philip Melanchthon described, some twenty-five years after the fact, the central events depicted in this book and their consequences for his later life. What seemed at the time a minor disagreement between two of Luther's foremost students, John Agricola and Melanchthon (Luther himself had described it as little more than nothing), Melanchthon remembered later as a watershed for his theology and his relation to the church. This monograph will probe the truth of that memory by analyzing the works and thought of the chief protagonists in this drama as they wrestled to understand the role of the law in the Christian's life, especially in connection with Christian poenitentia.2

After introducing the characters in this dispute and briefly examining the few scholarly pieces that touch upon it, this study will turn first to the exegetical contributions of John Agricola in the mid-1520s and then to the wealth of catechetical material produced by evangelicals, especially Melanchthon and Agricola, during this period. Is poenitentia the sorrow or terror that God's commandments evoke in the sinner? Or is it the new life of faith created by God's promise of forgiveness, a life in which no longer sinning is the highest form of poenitentia? Melanchthon's exegetical and catechetical contributions from this period make it clear that he not only disagreed with Agricola but, cognizant of the latter's position, pointedly refuted it, distinguishing it from his own approach, one grounded in his understanding of the movement from law to gospel and from terror to consolation.

The publication in 1527 of the so-called Visitation Articles, developed by Melanchthon in the course of his examination of Saxony's pastors, provoked Agricola's formal objection to Melanchthon's proposals and led to a public confrontation between the two at the elector of Saxony's Torgau Castle, where Martin Luther played a mediatorial role. In the aftermath the participants, while adhering to Luther's compromise, continued to elaborate their own theological points of view. This led, on the one side, to Agricola's later confrontation with Luther during the first antinomian controversy of the late 1530s and contributed, on the other, to Melanchthon's developing the concept of a third use of the law (that is, a use of the law among believers as a guide for living). The question posed by the initial dispute, namely, the relation between the law and poenitentia, continues to be one of the central themes in Protestant theology and also continues to divide Christian, especially Lutheran, theologians. It is hoped that this examination of that theme's origins may provide the Reformers' heirs new insight and encouragement.

This book is the second volume reflecting my work on Philip Melanchthon's three commentaries on Colossians published between 1527 and 1534. That work began in 1991 as research conducted during four months at the Herzog August Bibliothek in Wolfenbuttel. I am especially grateful for that institution's financial support during that summer, and the encouragement and assistance accorded me by its fine staff, especially Sabine Solf and Gillian Bepler. I am also thankful for the conversations with other scholars which that time afforded me, especially with Robert Kolb and Irene Dingel.

Several portions of this work were first presented, respectively, at the Melanchthon seminar of the Eighth International Congress for Luther Research (St. Paul, 1993), the Sixteenth Century Studies Conferences (San Francisco, 1995), and the 1997 "Jubilaumstagung: Der Theologe Melanchthon," held in Bretten, Germany, to help celebrate the five hundredth anniversary of Melanchthon's birth. In addition, a preliminary version of a portion of chapter 2 was published as "Wittenberg's Earliest Catechism" in the Lutheran Quarterly (n.s., 7 [1993]: 247-60). I am indebted to all those who commented on these papers.

A special word of thanks also goes to David Steinmetz, who had the insight to realize in 1992 that my single manuscript on Melanchthon's interpretation of Colossians was in fact two separate works. (The first part of that project has been published as Human Freedom, Christian Righteousness: Philip Melanchthon's Exegetical Dispute with Erasmus of Rotterdam [New York: Oxford University Press, 1998].) Separating these two babies joined at the hip would not have been possible without the generous sabbatical leave provided me in 1995-96 by The Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia. The conversations with my colleagues there and the support of the dean, James Kenneth Echols, and the president, Robert Hughes, make it a joy to work at such an institution. I also want publicly to thank Richard Muller for his sup port in the later stages of this project and for seeing his way clear to accept the manuscript into the Texts and Studies in Reformation and Post-Reformation Thought series.

Finally, f want to recognize the wholehearted encouragement offered to me by my wife, Barbara Farlow Wengert. This work has often forced us to live our lives separated not only by oceans, but also by library walls and even by the ages as I have become more and more captivated by the sixteenth century. A heavy toll has also been exacted on my children, Emily Jane Wengert and David Hayworth Wengert, who, sad to say, grew all too accustomed to explaining to their friends their father's prolonged absences abroad, and who came to know Wolfenbiit- tel while waiting for their father to emerge each evening from the Duke August's Zeughaus. Yet their own developing vitality and eagerness to learn have encouraged and delighted me so much over the years that I proudly dedicate this work to them both, in the hopes that amid life's terrors they, like Master Philip, may find consolation in God's amazing promises.

Law and Gospel (title page from Luther's Bible)

Abbreviations

Introduction

This is a study of how Philip Melanchthon, during the time his theology first came under attack in the 1520s by another Wittenberg-trained Reformer, John Agricola of Eisleben, came to define the relation between poenitentia) and law. In one way, however, this little-known dispute originated in one of the most famous documents of the Reformation, the first four statements of Martin Luther's Ninety-Five Theses:

1. By saying "Poenitentiam agite" [Matt. 4:17], our Lord Jesus Christ wanted the entire life of the faithful to be poenitentia.

2. For the word cannot be understood concerning sacramental poenitentia (that is, confession and satisfaction which is administered by the ministry of priests).

3. But neither did he intend interior poenitentia alone; indeed, such interior poenitentia is nothing unless it produces various mortifications of the flesh.

4. Therefore poena [punishment for sin] remains as long as hatred of self (that is, true inner poenitentia) remains: right up to the coming of the kingdom of heaven.2

Here Luther used the results of his study of the Bible-especially Erasmus's interpretation of the Greek term metanoia in his Novum In- strumentum (the Greek New Testament and annotations of 1516)-and his developing evangelical theology to challenge the practice of indulgence selling and its relation to the sacrament of penance. The ensuing dispute and the rupture that it precipitated in the Western church have enjoyed meticulous investigation by countless scholars,3 but almost always from the standpoint of the break between Wittenberg and Rome. Either such studies have assumed that Luther and his party were united in their understanding of poenitentia and used the term consistently, or they have focused exclusively on Luther's own development as he moved steadily further away from the medieval understanding of the sacrament of penance until breaking with it altogether in his 1520 tract "The Babylonian Captivity of the Church."4

Yet Luther's statements on the subject may well have appeared ambiguous not only to his opponents but also to his followers. For example, despite his clarity in 1517 concerning the linguistic problem, he continued to use the ambivalent term poenitentia or Bufle. Moreover, although he counted two proper forms of confession (to God and to one's neighbor), he also allowed and later even encouraged private confession to the priest.

Even more important and potentially confusing were Luther's statements on the highest form of Bu/e (poenitentia). In his "Discussion of Poenitentia" from early 1518, Luther insisted that there was more truth in the German proverb "Nymmer thun ist die hochste pusz" than in all the teaching about contrition.5 He translated this phrase "the best poenitentia is the new life" and cited Galatians 6:15 in his defense. After John Tetzel attacked Luther's "Discussion of Indulgence and Grace,"6 Luther responded in 1518 with "A Freeing of the `Discussion regarding Papal Indulgence and Grace' against the 'Refutation.' 117 In the midst of a demonstration of Tetzel's mishandling of the Scripture, Luther attacked the connection between Bu/3e and the sacrament of penance, pointing to the nonsacramental use of the term by the laity in the adage "Nymmer thun ist die hochste pulle."8 When this aphorism became part of the papal bull of excommunication, Luther defended himself in the 1520 tract "Against the Bull of the Antichrist."9 Luther confidently called in as judges the laity, who by inventing this saying had taught more accurately about Bufle than had the pope. True contrition (Reu) cannot be bought.'°

In his more thorough refutation of the papal bull of 1521, Luther again took up the German saying and argued that "where contrition proceeds properly through God's grace, there a person is transformed at the same time into another person, heart, spirit, mind, and life; that implies that I no longer do [what I did before], and it implies a new life."11 Contrition and a new life make up the best Bu/3e. The pope, on the contrary, had to say that the best Bufle was the remorse of Judas, which occurred apart from God's grace.12 In the process of recounting biblical proofs for his assertion, Luther pointed out that the "new creation" of Galatians 6:15 begins with great attacks upon and fright to the conscience (the knocking of God described in Rev. 3:20), to which God at the same time adds grace and strength. Luther continued the metaphor of God's greeting: "For [God's] greeting is terrible at the beginning, but comforting at the end."13 Like lightning that strikes a tree, first splitting it in two and then turning it toward heaven, "thus the grace of God at the same time terrifies, hunts down, and drives a person, and turns such a one to God."14

A related problem in Luther's thinking involved what Luther did not describe here: the means God uses to bring this splitting and turning grace to bear on the person. Luther explained that in another tract from 1520, "On the Freedom of a Christian."15 It is the Word of God and more precisely the gospel that brings grace to the soul and creates faith.16 Works are excluded because of the double nature of the Scripture. On the one hand, as command or law it teaches us what good works are, but it gives no power to do them and thereby proves that we are sinners and makes us afraid and humble. On the other hand, as gospel the Scripture then comes and invites us to faith in Christ, so that God's promises deliver what the commands demand.17

This distinction between law and gospel and its connection to true poenitentia-however straightforward they may seem to Luther scholars or Lutheran theologians today's-were not nearly as clear to Luther's students and readers. Questions over the nature of poenitentia and its relation to the law and to the sacrament of penance formed the basis of the first public controversy among Luther's students and profoundly shaped the nature of later Lutheranism by making the distinction between law and gospel one of its distinguishing characteristics. It is this controversy that the present study will investigate.

The Setting

In the mid-1520s, at the same time Melanchthon and Luther were doing battle with Erasmus's theology,19 another opponent arose from what must have been for Melanchthon a much more unexpected corner. In 1527, for the first time in his career at the University of Wittenberg but certainly not the last, Melanchthon came under attack from someone within the evangelical camp itself. John Agricola of Eisleben had been a student of Luther since 1516, at which time he heard Luther deliver his lectures on Romans. When Melanchthon arrived in 1518, the two students became fast friends. In mid-1525, as part of Wittenberg's plans for the reform of Germany's educational system, Agricola moved with his family to Eisleben, his hometown, where he became rector of the Latin school.20 In the same year, along with Justus Jonas, he was designated by Luther to write Wittenberg's first evangelical catechism.

The brief public dispute between Agricola and Melanchthon began with a letter from Agricola to Luther in August 1527 and concluded with a formal reconciliation at the end of November of the same year when Luther arranged a truce during a meeting at the Castle Torgau. At first glance, when compared to the battle with Erasmus, this confrontation, ostensibly over the definition of poenitentia in Melanchthon's Latin version of the Visitation Articles of 1527, may seem rather unimportant. Yet both in terms of its impact on Melanchthon's theology and in terms of its effect on the developing catechesis and doctrine of the emerging Lutheran church, the controversy between Agricola and Melanchthon concentrated Wittenberg's attention on the distinction between law and gospel by eliminating what would later be designated antinomian options for construing evangelical theology.

Secondary Literature

In this century several important studies have devoted space to an examination of the dispute regarding law and gospel. By far the most helpful work is still that of Gustav Kawerau, who in the course of his description of Agricola's theology devotes a chapter to what he calls "Das Vorspiel des antinomistischen Streites."21 From that beginning two approaches to this issue have developed during the intervening century. On the one hand, some scholars have focused almost exclusively on the relation between Agricola and Luther in this earlier period as a way of explaining the so-called first antinomian controversy of the late 1530s. Joachim Rogge contributed to the discussion by comparing Agricola's early work to Luther's theology and investigating the first movements away from Luther's thought.22 In his still useful reconstruction of the controversy itself, the focus is clearly upon Luther and Agricola. Nearly a quarter of a century later, Ernst Koch contributed a careful analysis of the earliest contacts between Luther and Agricola, especially the role of Luther's lectures on Romans.23 At nearly the same time Steffen Kjeldgaard-Pedersen published his doctoral dissertation, also focusing on the theology of the young Agricola and containing a thoroughgoing critique of the approaches of Rogge and others 24

On the other hand, some scholars have attempted to explain the controversy regarding law and gospel by describing the development of various intellectual movements and theological positions in Wittenberg during this time. In an unpublished dissertation, Gustav Hammann characterizes the two approaches as nomianism and antinomianism 25 A good portion of his work researches the differences between Melanchthon and Agricola on the basis of their various writings. Despite his useful attempt to fix the chronology of the controversy, Hammann's work is fundamentally flawed by his psychologization of the relationship between Luther and Melanchthon and by his dependence upon Wilhelm Neuser, who argued that Melanchthon derived his theology from a pre-Wittenberg humanism.26 Further, Hammann has no useful explanation for Luther's behavior at the Torgau conference in November 1527, where Luther cannot seem to appreciate the differences between the positions of his two "friends." Moreover, Hammann reduces Melanchthon's theology to a kind of moralistic nomism.

Another work that examines the divergences between Agricola and Melanchthon is the analysis ofpoenitentia by Susi Hausammann.27 She touches briefly on the controversy over the Visitation Articles, indicates the importance of Agricola's translation of Melanchthon's early commentaries on Paul, and generally portrays the two figures as offering opposing responses to Luther's original teaching on the doctrine of poenitentia.

In one sense all of the works mentioned have contributed to the understanding of the flap over the Visitation Articles of 1527 and form an important background to the material investigated here. However, they do not approach the subject matter in the ways employed in the present study.

First, with the possible exception of Kawerau, all are far more concerned about larger theological issues, such as nomianism versus antinomianism, and tend to fit the events of the period in question within the framework of that theological construct. This work, on the contrary, is self-consciously a history of the dispute.

Second, scholars have tended to place Luther and his theology in such a special position that his work becomes a kind of regula fidei by which the disputants in this controversy may be measured. It is true that without Luther's comments, as early as the Ninety-Five Theses, the dispute is unthinkable. However, this work concentrates on the princi pies and investigates the struggle especially from Philip Melanchthon's perspective.

Finally, previous studies completely miss the rich possibilities that works edited after the controversy offer for insight into the positions of the two theologians and into their method of argumentation. 8 Neither have all the earlier sources for understanding this dispute been fully exploited. Kjeldgaard-Pedersen, who recognized some omissions, calls for a comparison of Agricola's and Melanchthon's commentaries on Co- lossians.29

Our interests in this controversy provide a different approach from what has come before. First, we are as much interested in the history of the controversy as in the theological types it may represent. Second, Luther will come into discussion only as events warrant. Granted, his early comments on the matter influenced all the participants, but although he was one of the judges in this case, he did not view the matter on the basis of something he had written ten years earlier. Third, the focus of this study will be Philip Melanchthon himself, because the controversy was engendered by his writings, focused on his theology not Agricola's, and came to influence later Lutheranism in that his reactions to this problem were enshrined in his later work. In this regard, Melanchthon's three editions of his commentary on Colossians, the Scholia in Epistolam Pauli ad Colossenses, published in 1527, 1528, and 1534, will provide an excellent window into developments within his theology and within the controversy itself.

Given the complexities of the events, however, no single document from the period contains the entire scope of this controversy. Therefore, to gain a proper perspective on what was written in any particular source, a wide range of evidence will be examined. By looking at John Agricola's exegetical work before 1527, chapter 1 uncovers how he expressed his position on poenitentia and the law before the public controversy. Chapter 2 examines the glut of evangelical catechisms from 1525 until 1527 and their widely divergent definitions and uses of the terms poenitentia and law. Chapter 3 investigates Melanchthon's exegetical battle with Agricola over Colossians and Melanchthon's statements in the Latin version of the Visitation Articles (1527) that directly fueled the controversy. The actual controversy takes center stage in chapter 4. While chapter 5 investigates in broad terms the effects of this controversy on the relation between these two theologians and their opinions of each other, chapter 6 looks more closely at a single important change in Melanchthon's commentary on Colossians (1534) and his development of the concept of a third use of the law.

Calm before the Storm: Agricola's Biblical Exegesis from 1525 to 1527

In the "Praefatio" to the first edition of the Scholia on Colossians (1527) Melanchthon wrote, "Nowadays many teach faith and the remission of sins, but they do not teach poenitentia. But without poenitentia faith is nothing but a foolish dream."' That the dedicatory epistle was written by the time the printer John Setzer left Wittenberg for Haguenau on 20 May 1527 and that he doubtless carried a manuscript of the Scholia with him2 means that at least three months before Agricola complained to Luther about the understanding of poenitentia in the Visitation Articles, Melanchthon already knew of "many" dreamers who taught faith and remission of sins but not poenitentia. From Melanchthon's perspective, chief among them was John Agricola.

The Early Relationship between Melanchthon and Agricola

Joachim Rogge insists that in the time prior to the August 1527 dispute, the friendship between Melanchthon and Agricola had fallen on hard times, in large part because Melanchthon received the professorship at Wittenberg for which Agricola had longed.3 This kind of speculation is unnecessary and unsupported by their correspondence. Their letters prior to the dispute bore all the characteristics of conversations between old school chums. The earliest, from 1520, recounted Melanchthon's unsuccessful attempt to get his new wife to let Agricola come and live with them.4 Beneath the exaggerated humanist prose of later letters lurked a true friendship.5 What Rogge mistakes for desperation in Melanchthon's overblown expressions of affection is much more likely regret at separation couched in the typical excesses of humanist prose.

And separated they were. In the summer of 1525, Agricola moved to Eisleben to become the rector of the new Latin school there. This move must be seen as a part of Wittenberg's attempt to establish bonae literae and the Reformation at the same time in Saxony's schools. Luther's appeal to the city councils, Melanchthon's declamations, and the establishment of a similar school in Nuremberg at nearly the same time were all parts of this attempt at reform. Luther and Melanchthon had accompanied Agricola to Eisleben in May 1525 in part to establish him in that position.' In a letter dated 20 December 1525, Melanchthon reported to Agricola his having turned down a newly created teaching post in theology at Wittenberg on the grounds of ill health. He also expressed the wish that Agricola get the post.8 While in the next letter from Wittenberg to Eisleben, written at the beginning of January 1526, Melanchthon expressed regret at not having heard from Agricola, by January 15 not only had Agricola written, but, in answer to Melanchthon's question, had expressed a preference to stay in Eisleben for the time being.9

There was clearly a series of missed connections between the two in subsequent months, all coming after Melanchthon received a special professorship and hefty pay raise to teach in the faculties of both theology and arts. 10 In June Melanchthon did not stop in Eisleben on his way back from Nuremberg. 11 In October Melanchthon, who had come to Eisleben only to find that Agricola was away, could not stay until his return.12 However, near Christmas of the same year Melanchthon mentioned receiving a present of cloth.13 Another missed connection occurred around 12 April 1527 with Melanchthon in Mansfeld and Agricola unable to come from Eisleben. The following letters indicated Melanchthon's concern that decisions regarding the Latin school not be made in Agricola's absence.14 As late as 30 August 1527 Melanchthon wrote thanking Agricola for the comfort he extended to Justus Jonas upon the death of his son.15 Difficulties? Yes. Strains? Perhaps. But the correspondence does not permit us to conclude that there was jealousy or breaks in friendship that caused Melanchthon to exaggerate his greetings.16 The attack of Agricola had its origins somewhere else: in the exegetical and catechetical writings of the two men.

Agricola's Exegetical Work on the New Testament

Steffen Kjeldgaard-Pedersen describes well Agricola's early exegetical work and its relation to Luther's theology.17 For our purposes we will use three of the many sources from the time prior to the controversy to sketch the theological background out of which it grew: Agricola's commentary on Luke, his sermons on Colossians, and his translation of Melanchthon's commentaries on Romans and 1-2 Corinthians.

In Evangelium Lucae Annotationes

In his commentary on Luke, Agricola produced a work that, in terms of both style and genre, reached the highest level of technical sophistication among all his writings. The bulk of his publications both before and after arose out of German sermons, or from his work at the Latin school in Eisleben, or as a result of controversy. Only the annotations on Luke of 1525, perhaps intended as a replacement for the commentary on the same Gospel produced the previous year by Francois Lambert, took on the commentary form found in the exeget ical work of other Wittenbergers at the time.18 Its connections to lectures Agricola may have given in Wittenberg cannot be ascertained from the preface to George Spalatin, who had clearly encouraged Agricola's work.19 The annotations afford us insight into two crucial parts of Agricola's theology: the definition of law and the function of poenitentia.

Agricola's commentary contains a lengthy preface entitled "What Is Required from the Sacred History? (Quid ex sacra historia requirendum sit?)," which was translated into German and published separately under the title "A Short and Lovely Report on How One Should Read the Holy Scripture, and to What One Should Pay Attention in the Reading, What One Should Search for and Inquire after."20 The commentary itself and its preface were revised by the author and published in Haguenau the following year.

The changes between the first and second editions, taken into consideration by neither Gustav Hammann nor Kjeldgaard-Pedersen, show just how much Agricola was concerned at this time with the law and its claim on human affairs. Unlike other Wittenberg commentaries of the same time, Agricola did not begin with the distinction between law and gospel, but with a discussion of the cognitio crucial for every Christian. The Scripture everywhere adumbrates two natures: that we are born children of Adam and hence of wrath, and that we are brought forth as children of Abraham by the promise.21 Thus, Agricola's beginning point was not law but sin and the nature of the human being. From there he proceeded to describe the effects of original sin.22

Only after describing sin did Agricola introduce the category of law. Here the 1526 version added the title "For What Purpose the Law Was Given, and What Are the Powers of the Law."23 Because original sin re suits in blindness, the law of Moses was given to uncover (retegere) this mortal wound to our eyes. As a result of encounter with the law, the human is condemned to hell, "unless one would change one's heart."24 In both versions an explanation of the Ten Commandments followed. However, what in 1525 had been a diffuse and unmarked section of the introduction was in the 1526 version rewritten, expanded, transposed, and given titles to cover each commandment in order.25 Agricola presented the law exclusively as unfulfillable demand. Unless human beings fulfill the law, they stand condemned.

In 1526 Agricola emphasized the law's demands further by explaining each commandment more fully. God, who was referred to only indirectly in the material covering the first commandment in 1525, became in the 1526 edition the supreme Legislator. God gave the law so that we might be aware that he, who is touched by our cares and from whom we can expect whatever we need, holds us in his hands. Proper use of God's name, which in 1525 was linked to prayer and praise, in 1526 was tied directly to salvation. In 1525 Agricola took the command to honor the Sabbath as a prohibition of human traditions; in 1526 he strengthened his explanation by giving the reason for the prohibition: "so that [people] may remember that not they but God in them lives and works for his good will."26

Agricola also expanded his explanation of the second table of the law, stressing obedience in his explanation of the fourth commandment and adding the sixth commandment, which for him implied not only proper behavior but also "conversatio honesta."27 To comments on the eighth commandment, which in 1525 included speaking honestly before one's superiors and defending widows, Agricola added consoling the sick and generally not hoping for gain.28

The summary of the commandments, similar in both editions, gave heightened stress to their demands by excluding all forms of provocation in the Christian's life. Agricola concluded, "For the law always goes forth, not ceasing to drive us to desperation, unless we were to do freely what it commands."29 To prove his point, in a section entitled in 1526 "The Struggle between the Law and the Conscience Not Yet Imbued with Christ's Spirit" Agricola described the law's effect on human beings, how it puts dread in the conscience until people become like Proteus, fighting the law's yoke and blaming God for their problems. As examples of the terrors of the law, Agricola took the description of the giving of the law in Exodus 20 as well as several references from classical literature. The human plight under the law is so horrible that only God can remedy this evil pestilence of nature "by some new kind of cure." 30

Agricola summarized his argument: "The source of sin is produced from Adam; that inborn power certainly runs through all the children of Adam. The law has been added, not so much to restrain or remove that congenital blemish, as to increase and reveal it, and so that sin may receive power (as the apostle says, the conscience is incited by the power of the law)."31 Here Agricola played down any positive role for what Melanchthon later called the first use of the law (a civil force for the restraint of sin). But even the second use of the law was thought of not so much as driving to Christ or mortifying as making the human situation even worse; hence the title for this section stressed the fight between law and conscience for those not yet imbued with Christ's Spirit.

Only in a final sentence of the summary did Agricola give any positive sense to the law: "In this is the whole of Moses and the prophets, that people acknowledge their sin and deplore it, despair of themselves, and finally expect the help of that great prophet [Deut. 18]."32 But even this last sentence and the explanation that followed make clear that for Agricola the "expectation of the great prophet" did not arise so much from despair brought on by the commands of God as from the Old Testament promises themselves. At the same time, Agricola defined the gospel in such a way as to attribute all transformation to it, even the transformation of the law into something desirable.33 Here Agricola expressed the notion introduced earlier, of doing the law freely, in terms of deepest human desires. Agricola's understanding of the law was marked by the tension between something which does no good and something which is the highest good.

The negative definition of Moses and the law continued within the commentary itself. The transfiguration provided Agricola an opportunity to discuss the role of the law again. God wanted to have a peculiar people in whom he could show his power. According to Galatians 3:24, he made Moses the "governor and guide (rector et paedagogus)" for these people "so that, pressed and terrified by the law, they might acknowledge their error and try to avert punishment by entreaty."34 The prophets reproached people for their sins and predicted the coming of Christ. With Christ's coming the need for a special people or for Moses and the prophets ceases, as the phrase in Luke 9:36 ("relicto lesu solo") proves.

Whereas the introduction to Luke's Gospel gave a glimpse into Agricola's developing understanding of the law, the commentary itself provided several places where he connected this teaching to poenitentia. Luke 3, which describes the appearance of John the Baptist in the desert, provided Agricola with the perfect text to discuss poenitentia and the gospel. In a section labeled "On the Reason for Poenitentia," he insisted that John bears a type of the gospel and is a "witness (auspex) of the New Testament." This gospel has two offices: to condemn whatever is exalted and stands against true worship of and faith in God, and to announce the remission of sin in Christ.35 Just as Agricola earlier noted that the law had little positive role to play, here the gospel itself takes over all salvific functions by both condemning and making alive. Similarly, in comments on Luke 16:16 Agricola insisted that, unlike John, "the law shows and increases sin; it says nothing about help."36 The law as Agricola defined it had no role to play in the life of the believer.

In the discussion of Luke 3, Agricola defined John's call for poenitentia by associating it with what Christ calls the cross and Paul the death of the old creature, giving as an example for that mortification Ephesians 4:28 ("Let the one who stole steal no more"). This meant, of course, that poenitentia is a mark of the new creature, not of the old. Thus Agricola wrote: "Consequently, if poenitentia is an appellation for the new creature, which is being renewed daily, then death, whose symbol is baptism, completes it."37 This makes sense of Agricola's reference to Ephesians 4:28: the new creature no longer sins, in this case steals, because baptism completes the process of mortification.

Agricola then cemented this identification of poenitentia with the new creature: "Without a doubt you may understand that `to do poenitentia,' `to be justified,' `to have a change of heart,' is solely a work of God, not of human powers, and that as many as divide the reckoning of poenitentia most ineptly into attrition, confession, and satisfaction err to the highest heaven."38 Here Agricola showed that because poenitentia and justification are God's work they cannot be divided into human categories that imply human works. This also means that for Agricola the law had nothing to do with the gospel. The medieval division of poenitentia simply masked a form of works-righteousness. Clearly Agricola's concern was to protect the gracious action of God.

Agricola's other important discussion of poenitentia came in comments on the Zacchaeus story. Here again Agricola defined poenitentia in terms that exclude any human activity:

In Zacchaeus is adumbrated some truly living form of poenitentia, of which Paul, too, reminds us in the last chapter of Ephesians [Eph. 4:28], "Let the one who stole no longer steal," which is what we say in German, "The highest BuJe is never to do it again." Furthermore, this freedom of the soul, this progress into another life, does not begin with the recording of sins, with simulated thought of the human heart, but with the blessing of God, which the heart senses that God has imparted to it, when he draws and attractively calls to himself and invites.39

Here the outlines of Agricola's definition of poenitentia become clear. True poenitentia involves a new life, not counting sins. Ephesians 4:28, linked to the German saying, provides the correct way of understanding the true penitent's behavior. It arises not out of the law or the thoughts of the human heart-here Agricola was thinking of contrition and confession-but from the gospel and benefits of God.

Agricola identified gospel with a word that kills and causes poenitentia. Thus, in a section added to the annotations in 1526 he wrote that when Christ speaks of the grain of wheat dying (John 12:24), he signifies that new life comes "after the flesh has been put to death by the word of the gospel, that is, the word of the cross."40 This does not mean, however, that judgment itself, as in Luke 3:17, comes from the gospel. What pertains to the gospel is the revelation of judgment, not judgment itself. For Agricola the gospel contained within itself the power to put to death in order to make alive. Any judgment that remains judgment belongs outside the gospel in the law.

A similar contrast between gospel and law is to be found in Agricola's introduction to the passion story, where he discussed unleavened bread. A new law must come to drive out the old leaven, that is, to mortify us so that our joy is not simulated but from the heart. To this work of the gospel Agricola contrasted the old law: "The whole law makes liars and hypocrites; on the contrary, the gospel makes sincere, honest, and truthful people."41

This narrow meaning of the law and its practical exclusion from the life of the Christian had direct consequences for Agricola's understanding of Christian freedom. Thus he wrote (in German) that a person who thinks that only virtuous people, and not the impure, should be in the church has abandoned the gospel. "For God uses such a stratagem (that one is an angel today and a devil tomorrow) ... so that he can make the world look foolish."42 This rejection of a moralistic Christianity stemmed from Agricola's rejection of a positive use for the law and also from his emphasis on a particular theology of the cross. Unlike Melanchthon, who discussed the cross primarily in the context of sanctification of the believer, Agricola delighted in portraying it as the basis of Christian freedom.

Die Epistel an die Colosser ... gepredigt

Melanchthon's prefatory letter to Alexander Drachstedt for the Scholia of 1527 began, "Since very well written commentaries on the Epistle to Colossians exist, there was good reason why we would not publish these our Scholia. "43 At that time the only evangelical commentary to which he could have been referring was the sermons on Colossians by Agricola.44 During August 1526, while serving as a preacher for Elector John of Saxony at the Diet of Speyer, Agricola had delivered an entire series of sermons on Colossians.45 If Melanchthon's preface was indeed referring to these sermons, then they probably appeared in print within the first four months of 1527. Kjeldgaard-Pedersen offers a thorough look at all aspects of this commentary.46 We are interested in what it may add to our understanding of Agricola's developing theology of good works and poenitentia.41

If the Gospel of Luke gave Agricola opportunity to discuss the law, Colossians permitted him to explore how works relate to the life of the believer. An eighteen-page discussion of Colossians 1:3-9 closed with a four-page examination entitled "What Purpose Do Good Works Serve?"48 The text of Colossians seemed to support the notion of merit. To oppose this interpretation Agricola stressed on several occasions that works of love done for one's neighbor are "lauter notwerck (pure works of necessity)."49 They must occur, but they earn nothing.

After citing the text of Romans 2:6 as supposed proof for the meritorious nature of good works, Agricola responded, "You have now just heard that all works we do are not werck."50 This assertion did not quite satisfy Agricola, so he added that good works also serve to instruct each person how close to or far from God one is. Loving someone who hates in return means that "you then have a living witness ... that God dwells in and with you." Contrariwise, lacking such love, "then you are dismayed in yourself and fear before God. Cry out to him ... for you have not yet discovered in your heart how great the treasure and riches of grace are."51 Here Agricola put an interesting twist on the practical syllogism and undermined the very certainty of salvation so important for the Reformers in Wittenberg.52 Moreover, because these works lie outside the individual's control, that is, because they occur by necessity, there is no direct way to receive comfort. The one who lacks these works is separated from God; the only recourse is to be frightened and beseech God for help.

In later sermons Agricola came back to the theme of works, but now from the perspective of Colossians 2:8ff. and the division between human philosophy and Christian truth. Again he sought to avoid completely any notion of merit. In comments on Colossians 2:16f. he used what might best be described as Platonic imagery to make his point. Since God is spirit, and the soul is spirit, what can they have to do with the body and temporal works? He even cited favorably the Latin saying of pagan philosophers who realized that "the finite is not in proportion to the infinite."53 "The eternal and the temporal," he translated, "body and spirit, never more fuse together." The gospel brings light into our spirits. Although the soul is supposed to rule the body, when it becomes bound to all kinds of human ordinances and practices, it becomes temporal, or corporeal, and dies. God takes from it its eternal inheritance, as in the case of Adam.

Into this description of human nature and the fall Agricola now fit good works. The work that the Spirit works in us through the eternal Word is "faith apart from all works." Then Agricola drew this revolutionary conclusion: just as the soul can live without the body, so this faith can live without works, like the thief on the cross.54 To be sure, Agricola distinguished a reasonable soul from a rough, wild one. However, just when it seemed that law might have a place in his system to tame wild souls, he concluded by saying that faith, wherever it is present, can never be hidden. "Since it is spirit and an eternal thing, it needs no instruction on how it ought to bear [fruit] and work."55

As radical as the polemic seems, Agricola's point was far tamer. He used the distinction between soul and body (and between faith and works) to introduce a long attack on various ceremonies practiced in the church.56 He derived this distinction and polemic especially from Colossians 2:8ff., where Paul also attacked the notion of human ceremonies and traditions, but Agricola always went back to the particular word "Philosophey" of Colossians 2:8, a word that to him implied human, temporal things.57

How deeply this division between spirit and flesh had penetrated Agricola's thought becomes clear in the section following the attack on ceremonies. Commenting on Colossians 3:1, Agricola noted that Paul divides the believer into two parts: one seated in heaven with Christ at the right hand of God, and the other living on earth, destined to die. This means that the believer's life entails, as Paul describes, both dying, putting off the earthly nature, and rising, putting on the heavenly nature. Against the assertion of philosophy that what lives, lives, the Christian stands with the Crucified and claims that what lives dies and what dies lives.58 Under this radical reversal, the pope's understanding of the church and of the importance of externals stood condemned 59

At the same time, Moses also has no part in the Christian life. Commenting on Colossians 3:5-7, Agricola exclaimed, "How completely different is the teaching of Moses, the law, human ordinances, worldly tra ditions, and philosophy regarding the doing of good works from that of the apostle through the gospel."60 Here all commandments fall on one side, while the gospel stands on the other. Once more Agricola strictly excludes any positive role for Moses in the life of a Christian. He would again defend this point of view at the Torgau in the actual controversy with Melanchthon.

How consistently Agricola divorced the law from the Christian life may be seen in his comments on Colossians 2:21-23. He gave his hearers the advice that when they sin, they are to run to Christ and shake their sins off on him. At the same time, any good works are not theirs, but his. According to 1 Timothy 1:9, Christians need no law; they travel on a "Mittelstrassen," free from good and evil works. Evil works do not harm their blessedness, nor do good works help their righteousness. "Grace, grace it is that does not pay attention to sin nor look upon good works."61 Later he repeated the same position in an even more fundamental way: "[Good or bad] works do not condemn me, lack of faith does. If you believe, you become holy even in sin."62 In his summary of this sermon63 Agricola again contrasted "philosophia," which looks into God's Word and determines that God is pleased by good works, with "God's Word and the freedom of the Spirit," which say that only by grace does one become blessed, while remaining an unworthy servant (Luke 17:7-10):

Philosophy says, "When you sin, you are condemned; be afraid!" God's Word says, "When you sin, be happy. It is to have no consequence. Sin does not condemn you; good works do not save you, but rather faith in Jesus Christ alone." For this reason, then, there is in the congregation forgiveness of sins without ceasing.64

At this point two caveats are in order. First, it would be incorrect to draw a direct line from such a statement to the antinomian controversy of the 1530s. Agricola here is simply using his rhetorical skills to underscore his rendering of the Reformation's central dogma of justificatio sola fide et gratia. Second, we ought not ask to what degree such a statement represents Luther's theology. Spalatin, surely no neophyte when it came to Luther's theology, was likely in the audience which heard this sermon and did not, as far as we know, object. The sermons were published with the rather cryptic remark "looked over by Dr. Martin Luther (Durch D. Martinum Luther vbersehen)" on the title page. There can be little doubt, as Kjeldgaard-Pedersen has shown, that similar statements can be found in the young Luther. But the developing controversy was not between Luther and Agricola, but between Melanchthon and Agricola. Such statements clearly contradicted much of Melanchthon's understanding of good works and poenitentia and quite likely contributed both to the pointed way in which he formulated his definitions in the Visitation Articles and to certain comments within the Scholia itself.

Agricola's sermons on Colossians also afford us another look at his developing view of poenitentia. Colossians 1:10 gave Agricola a chance to discuss growth in the Christian life. This growth comes in two forms: first, one holds more firmly to God's Word, teaching, and work; second, one's knowledge of one's self increases. Every person who has been called to faith in God through the gospel learns what is proclaimed therein: `Bufle and forgiveness of sins."65 Only from the light of the gospel can Christians learn where they have been (under the rule of darkness), where they are (so that they condemn their previous life), and where they are headed (to God who alone can help). Temptations function to drive a person still closer to God. "Thus we now see," Agricola concluded, "how Bu$e and forgiveness of sins are to be practiced throughout life and without stopping. Bu/e kills; forgiveness of sins comforts and makes alive. Bufe reveals sins; forgiveness of sins heals them."66 This passage, taken out of context, might seem at first glance to fit nicely into Melanchthon's theology. However, the entire discussion of poenitentia excluded both the work of the law and any other human work. Poenitentia and forgiveness are both functions of the gospel, not of the law.

Nowhere did Agricola better lay out his understanding ofpoenitentia than in a discussion of Colossians 1:24 and the meaning of dying and being buried. He insisted that there are two kinds of dying, exemplified respectively by Judas and Peter. Both fell into sin at the time of Christ's passion. Both died. But Judas remained dead, while Peter was made alive. In cases like Peter's, baptism is the perfect sign of Christian righteousness because, while the body is bathed in water and will die, the soul is promised comfort. As soon as the conscience, out of its need, turns itself around and thinks only on the Word, a light shines in its heart, and the resurrection draws near.

The difference between Peter and Judas rests in the fact that only Peter heard a word of promise from Christ, namely, that although the disciple would deny his master, Christ had prayed for him that his faith would not fail. Peter returned because of this promise. Judas had no such word, could not see beyond the punishment for his sin, and remained in his sin eternally. Peter could see beyond his sin to the light of the gospel and therefore wept. Judas confessed his sin to the priests, but without any promise he could only go out and hang himself.

From these examples Agricola concluded that poenitentia is the result of the gospel: "However, whenever the forgiveness of sins (the watchword of Christ's kingdom) descends into Bu/'e, baptism, and the heart of the sinner, so that such a one begins simply to consider it, then the resurrection comes near."67 Only in the light of the gospel can the heart condemn its own nature and uphold God's grace. Here the root of the controversy is exposed. Were Agricola to be told that poenitentia must be thought of in terms of contrition and confession, as preparation in the human being for the gospel, it is not hard to imagine his reaction.

Auslegung der Episteln S. Pauls ... gedeudscht

On 20 January 1527 Agricola completed a short preface to his translation of Melanchthon's annotations on Romans and 1-2 Corinthians. In it he complained about the earlier translations and explained that he had to use more words to bring into German what Melanchthon had said more briefly in Latin.68 Agricola was putting it mildly. In point of fact, his translation, unlike the earlier ones from 1523 and 1524, represented a paraphrase to which Agricola had added pages of his own com mentary, hardly the simple "notelchen" to which he referred 69 What makes this translation particularly important for our purposes is those places where Agricola, finding an understanding of poenitentia or law different from his own, was inclined to change Melanchthon's text to agree with his own theology.70

Before looking at any texts in detail, we must say a word about the method used to compare Melanchthon's original and Agricola's translation. The source of the changes in the translation has been debated in the secondary literature. Whereas Susi Hausammann simply assumes Agricola's hand and states that what is found in the sermons on Colossians may also be found in this work,71 Kjeldgaard-Pedersen challenges this assumption and wonders what it means to say, as Hausammann implies, that the annotations on Romans (of Melanchthon) and the sermons on Colossians (of Agricola) agree.72 A thorough comparison of Melanchthon's annotations and Agricola's translation goes beyond the scope of this work. However, in order to take some of the difficulties of comparing a translation with the original into account, we have also examined the translation of 1524. In point of fact, Kjeldgaard-Pedersen's concerns are unfounded. The amount of material that comes from Agricola's hand is so great as to make this commentary as much his as Melanchthon's.73

We begin with the understanding of law and gospel. Sometimes Agricola faithfully rendered Melanchthon's text according to its original meaning. Where Melanchthon wrote that the gospel has two offices-il lumination so that we know God's mercy and will ("voluntas Dei"), and protection against God's judgment ("iudicium")-Agricola gave a faithful rendition except that he left out the words "voluntas Dei" and translated "iudicium" as "zorn (wrath)."74 Were such the only kind of changes Agricola made, a comparison would make very little sense indeed. But Agricola's additions and subtractions penetrate much deeper in other places.

On Romans 1:1 Melanchthon discussed the differences between law and gospel. Where he wrote simply "what is the difference between law and gospel (quid intersit inter legem & Euangelium)," Agricola added "what purpose each serves and what each effects (wo zu ein iglichs diene/ auch was ein iglichs wircke)," certainly well within Melanchthon's meaning, but an expansion nevertheless. Where Melanchthon then gave one example of law ("Love God above all else and your neighbor as yourself"), Agricola added prohibitions from the Ten Commandments. Melanchthon summarized the effect of the law briefly: "Therefore the law is an odious discourse, because it commands impossible things, accuses, and terrifies all people."75 This did not satisfy Agricola, who wrote:

This law sounds almost evil in human ears, for it is impossible that any person can do or allow it. Nature experiences no greater love than the love for itself, out of which it then reckons to those it does not love. The law wants to restrain this love in nature and directs nature that it should love something other than itself and be loving to that which it hates. Therefore it is a hostile sermon: "You shall love God more than yourself or else you must die." Through this, too, terror and despair are forced upon all people. Therein every person is stuck and is not helped out.76

Here we can easily recognize Agricola's modus operandi. He paraphrased Melanchthon's work and, after adding his own excursus, re turned to the text. However, in this case he left out the phrase "reos agit (accuses)." Instead, he showed just what this accusation involves. Nature loves itself, but the law wants to turn human nature away from self-love toward loving what nature naturally hates. The law is, then, a "feindselige predigt" resulting in "schrecken vnd verzagen," which leave a person stuck with no chance for rescue. Accusation, which for Melanchthon led to poenitentia and forgiveness, led for Agricola to anger.

In just such subtle ways Agricola shaped Melanchthon's exegesis to his own ends. Whereas Melanchthon moved from the accusation of the law to the forgiveness of sins, Agricola viewed the law as a dead end from which there is no escape. This same shift may be seen in a later part of the same passage. Where Melanchthon described the conscience as frightened and made anxious ("terreri & angi") by the law, Agricola added that the conscience is "burdened (beschwert)" by the law-"how it sneers at and struggles against the law (wie sichs rumpfft vnd weret widder das gesetze)." Melanchthon's gospel, comfort for terrified consciences, disappeared before a conscience sneering at and fighting against the law.

In comments on Romans 4:15, Agricola appeared almost to correct Melanchthon. Melanchthon had written, "Therefore [God] gives the law, not just so that sin may be increased, but so that it may be recognized, so that [such] known [sin] may humble and invite the humbled ones to seek the grace of Christ."77 The sense is clear. The law has a positive purpose. It was not given just to increase sin but to make it known, so that that knowledge may humble and invite the humbled to the grace which must be sought from Christ. This positive view of the law received correction from Agricola: "For this reason God gave the law: that it may increase sin, so that each person recognizes one's own trespasses. For a person does not see what is small, and when it becomes enlarged, everyone sees it. So that when each person sees one's own misfortune, that person is humbled and has reason to search for help elsewhere."78 The care that Melanchthon took in identifying two subtly different purposes of the law ("so that sin may be increased" and "so that it may be recognized") was lost in the translation of Agricola, who assumed simply that the more sin there is, the more likely it is to be seen. Even the phrase "to search for help elsewhere" pales in comparison with the very positive notion of Melanchthon, who assumed that knowledge of sin drives a person to seek Christ's grace.79

Agricola's unwillingness to attribute any positive function to the law can be found as well in his independent introduction to Romans 1:18, where he explained the two works of God in terms of Isaiah 28. God first must perform the alien work of killing in order to do his proper work, because no one desires grace. Agricola added the German adage, "No one cries until he is lacking something (Es schreyet niemand dwe/ es feyle ihm denn etwas)."80 Now Melanchthon's comments on Romans 1:18 had insisted that God "causes all people to be unjust and sinners through the law." Agricola omitted the phrase "per legem" and translated: "Thus, when God promises through the gospel, through the preaching of his Son, grace, help, and eternal life, it [the gospel] has no place unless it also proclaim the wrath of God come down from heaven, ... by which they become worn down and desire to participate in Christ's righteousness.... As Christ says ... `I am not come to call the righteous but sinners to Bu$e."'81 Now the gospel itself has even become responsible for bringing sinners to poenitentia. Once again, the law has no positive function to play in Agricola's understanding of poenitentia; it capitulates all of its usefulness to the gospel.

Within this context Ernst Koch's critical analysis of Agricola's translation is convincing.82 He points out that in Agricola's translation of the annotations on Romans 7:6 Melanchthon's comment "The gospel is not spirit (Euangelium non est spiritus)" is completely lacking and that the rest of the remarks have been changed as well. Where Melanchthon wrote, "The law is not spirit, the gospel is not spirit; but the affectus loving the law, the affectus constantly believing the gospel, is spirit," Agricola disturbed the parallelism and translated, "The law is not spirit. The desire which approaches the law from the heart, and that one believes the gospel-that is spirit."83 The affectus is no longer connected to faith in the gospel; gospel is no longer excluded from spirit.

Like Melanchthon's interpretation of Romans, his comments on 2 Corinthians also gave Agricola the opportunity to correct the understanding of poenitentia. In an experiment with his developing loci method of biblical interpretation, Melanchthon had used a rather long discourse on poenitentia to introduce 2 Corinthians 2 and its discussion of the congregation's acceptance of a sinner.84 Some of the changes Agricola introduced were quite small. Melanchthon talked about "the fallen (lapsi) who are poenitentes." While the earlier translation rendered this phrase "die gefalnen die puf thuon (the fallen who Bu/e tun)," Agricola avoided the ambiguity of the word poenitentes and translated, "Die da gefallen seyn/ vnd bekennen es (those who have fallen and acknowledge it)."85 Any reference to a sacrament was thereby removed.

But Agricola also broke the connection between contrition and poenitentia. Melanchthon had written, "Therefore the fallen person is justified at that time when one truly is sorry and trusts the gospel that absolves."86 But Agricola could not bring himself to mention this kind of feeling (after all Judas had felt bad, too) and translated instead, "Therefore the fallen person is righteous when he believes and trusts the gospel that forgives him."87 The phrase "cum uere dolet" disappeared.

Agricola's peculiar understanding of the role of the gospel in poenitentia came to expression in the way he treated Melanchthon's comments on the Scholastic term for mortification. In a quite evenhanded way, Melanchthon writes, "Fifthly, the Scholastics call mortification contrition, but mortification alone does not justify unless you believe your sin is forgiven."88 Clearly for Melanchthon mortification was a necessary preliminary to faith. For Agricola, faith preceded mortifica tion. Thus he translated, "Fifth, the Scholastic teachers call mortification contrition. However, mortification does not make righteous where you do not believe in the gospel."89 The word "sola" is missing, and the language implies that faith must at very least accompany and perhaps precede mortification. In the context of Agricola's example of poenitentia from the passion story (see pp. 36-37), the translation and correction of Melanchthon make perfect sense.

Where Melanchthon discussed confession itself, the gulf between him and Agricola appears even wider. Melanchthon distinguished between confession to God and confession to other human beings. Among human beings, furthermore, there were three kinds of confession: public exclusion of sinners; private confession with public poenitentia (as in the punishment of a murder in the Latin West, a practice that, Melanchthon admitted, had stopped among the Greeks), and private confession.90 In regard to the second kind of confession, Agricola omitted the examples given by Melanchthon and simply wrote, "Dis hat auch affgehoret (this, too, has ceased)," although Melanchthon made the point that it had not.

Agricola then completely reshaped Melanchthon's discussion of private confession to conform to his own criticism of this sacrament. Melanchthon had described it in a neutral manner. Private confession represented a third type. Formerly it was free as to whom, when, and which sins one confessed. One consulted the saints in the congregation and heard from them the absolution and the "sententia Dei." This type of confession was mentioned in Basil's booklet on the monastic institutes and perhaps in James 5:16.91

The discussion of the types of confession having been the seventh point in a longer list, Melanchthon continued with the eighth point: whether confession is required according to divine law (de iure diuino). He answered that only the first kind of confession, when one is accused before the whole church, is required. Then one must confess and be reconciled to the injured party. His ninth point followed from this. If a person amends one's ways, so that ecclesial correction becomes unneces sary, then there is no "ius diuinum." Finally, the tenth point added that "absolutio priuata" is as necessary as baptism, because it is a testimony that one's sins are forgiven. This absolution may even be requested without a listing of one's sins.92

Agricola's conviction that there was no place in the church for the third kind of confession is evident in his rendering of Melanchthon's comments:

There is a third kind of confession, also secret, in which one has the freedom to confess to whomever one wishes. The only thing one should pay attention to is the absolution, which the brother gives as if from God. The first two forms of confession are public. The first God wants to have from Christians as long as they live. The second James talks about. When someone harms another in body, honor, or property, that person must publicly confess. Basil also refers to this, and it also is necessary. The third is optional; only, as has been said, it must have God's word, which I can receive, and I retain the freedom whether or not I confess my short- comings.93

No longer was private confession as necessary as baptism. No longer did it retain the proof texts of James 5:16 or Basil. No longer was there any discussion of self-correction without the intervention of the church. While Melanchthon expressly envisioned private confession for the distressed conscience, Agricola narrowed the concern to absolution alone. Whereas Melanchthon did not require the listing of sins (recensio peccatorum), Agricola was even more open-one's sins need not be mentioned at all. He no longer emphasized absolution, which implied confession of sin and which Melanchthon called a "testimony that your sins are forgiven you," but God's word-just what Peter needed in order to experience true sorrow for sin and confess.

As if this were not enough, Agricola also changed Melanchthon's comments under "Satisfactio" as well. Both agreed that, as Agricola put it, "in sum: either we must deny Christ, or we must let our satisfactions be nothing."94 However, Agricola simply omitted Melanchthon's explanations of 2 Corinthians 2:5, in which he corrected Erasmus, and of 2 Corinthians 2:6, where he gave this summary: "The conclusion of this topic: from this text you may infer an argument regarding the restoring of the fallen after baptism, the abolition of satisfactions, the power of absolution, the snares of the devil, etc."95 It is hard to understand why Agricola overlooked this particular text. As we shall see in the following chapters, however, the questions of restoring the lapsed and the power of absolution, as well as the division of poenitentia into three parts, became the subjects of intense debate between these two men in the late summer of 1527.

Agricola's exegetical argumentation on the question of the law and poenitentia is now clear. In his three major writings just prior to the controversy he consistently expressed a low estimation of the law and its function. Instead the gospel itself, as promise, creates the basis for death and resurrection in the Christian's life. This view of law and gospel meant that poenitentia, too, underwent a radical redefinition. No longer a sacramental act based upon the inner affections of the individual, poenitentia occurs only in the light of the promise itself. Contrition, defined by Agricola as attritio (sorrow over sin out of fear of punishment), can occur in anyone's life, even Judas's. But true death and resurrection come about only from the promise of baptism itself. Thus, one does not move from an anxious conscience to absolution, but from the promise of God to sorrow over sin and, better still, to refraining from sin completely. Where this movement does not occur, God himself must have abandoned the sinner-a cause for real anxiety. Where it does occur, it must be seen as the work of God alone.

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