Appendix 2. Early Catechisms (Additions to the Work of Ferdinand Cohrs)
The Aftermath (1527-53)
The controversy over poenitentia between Melanchthon and Agricola erupted when catechetical material and theological concerns mixed with exegetical disputes. The richness of the nonexegetical sources underscores the fact that during the Reformation the interpretation of Scripture belonged as well within this world of polemic and practical problems. As important as it may be to notice the commentaries on an exegete's writing desk, it is equally crucial to pay attention to the controversies raging outside the study door. In the days before it became stylish to pretend that exegesis was pure science or simple description of a long-dead world, the interpreter of Scripture, especially evangelical theologians like Melanchthon and Agricola, thought their task incomplete until they brought the Word of God to bear on the issues that confronted them on every side. What makes Melanchthon's commentary on Colossians so noteworthy in this regard is that his dialectical method encouraged and even demanded discussion of the theological issues of the day as they arose in connection with the biblical text.
The controversy with Agricola had resulted in an accommodation of sorts. Some researchers who have dealt with the controversy have disparaged that agreement, even to the point of wondering whether Luther understood the consequences of Agricola's theology, or of Melanchthon's for that matter.1 We must point out, however, that all of the researchers (with the exception of Steffen Kjeldgaard-Pedersen, who stops his analysis with Agricola's move to Eisleben in 1525) are actually more interested in the first antinomian controversy of the late 1530s than in this prelude, and as a result have ignored almost all of the sources produced immediately after the controversy. Yet these publications reveal more clearly than any other the limits of the agreement, but also the extremely wide latitude of theological opinions that were allowed to coexist in Wittenberg and its environs in the late 1520s.
Once again, to limit our attention simply to the exegetical materials in this phase of the discussion would leave the mistaken impression that the battle, having begun in the lecture halls and pulpits as a struggle over catechetical instruction in Saxony, ended in the print shops and Latin technical manuals intended for the few scholars who cared to read such esoterica. Instead, this controversy requires casting the nets widely enough to examine what happened both on the catechetical front, where the controversy began, and on the exegetical front, where each theologian changed his discussion of poenitentia and the law to accommodate the other and also to defend his own position more completely.
Conclusion of the Catechetical Controversy
How does one bring the gospel-Wittenberg style-to the common people? This question consumed the time of many of Wittenberg's best thinkers and finest printers. Throughout 1528 catechisms for the laity spewed from Wittenberg's presses; by 1529 the number of editions of catechisms brought to market by the booksellers totaled over sixty. At the same time, catechisms for pastors also appeared in German.
The Visitation Articles Revised
Melanchthon regarded the Latin version of the Visitation Articles as a kind of catechesis. Luther expressed a slightly different view in the preface of the German version. After describing the biblical and traditional roots of the present visitation and explaining the particular role played by the Elector John, which arose from Christian love and not from his authority as a secular ruler, Luther depicted the Articles from two sides. On the one hand, they were being published in order to do battle with the devil, embodied in Luther's enemies who had charged the Wittenbergers with having gone back on and recanted their previous teaching. The Visitation Articles proved that the evangelicals were not operating in the dark, but gladly searched out the light.' On the other hand, distinguishing the Articles from canon law, Luther insisted that the Reformers could not allow them to be promulgated "as a strict command." Instead, they represented a history of the faith and a confession of faith. Luther hoped that this document would please pious, peace-loving pastors who would join the cause and submit to the visitation "without compulsion, following the lead of love."3 Thus Luther retained some notion of the educational, even catechetical nature of the Articles, but completely within the framework of the visitation itself and its confessional nature.4
Most important for our study are the changes to the Visitation Articles that resulted from the dispute with Agricola. For one thing, Agricola's formal complaint held up publication until the Articles were gone over at the Torgau (without noticeable dissension on his part). Most of the changes were made in the first phase of the controversy, at which time the Articles were already being revised in the light of suggestions from Elector John himself.
The other two charges were dealt with, among other places, in the first section, "Von der Lere." Most strikingly, the division of the Chris tian life into poenitentia and faith was not only accepted, but strengthened. Teaching faith without poenitentia was called an error. Both versions categorized it as worse than "all errors before this time."6 And the German version, while admitting some truth in the charges that the pope had made additions to the Scripture, did not excuse clerics from preaching poenitentia, since such an omission undercut the basic message of the Bible. Here Melanchthon's experience with Aquila fit precisely.? Although there was a time to speak against the tyranny of the pope for the sake of Christian freedom, what was this other than to strain at a gnat and swallow a camel?8
The German version completely accepted the threefold division of poenitentia: "People previously taught that there were three parts to Bu/'e, namely, contrition, confession, and satisfaction."9 After defining contrition as recognition of sin and mortification and repeating many of the warnings about teaching faith without mortification, the German version added, "It is also good that one use these words `contrition' and `sorrow.' For these words are easy to understand and clear."10 Here the pedagogical concerns of Melanchthon found full expression, and the opposition of Aquila and Agricola was not accepted at all. To be sure, the Visitation Articles rejected papistic confession and turned confession into preparation for the Lord's Supper. Nevertheless, the German version still held confession in high esteem. As expected, satisfaction in the medieval Scholastic sense was completely discarded in favor of the satisfaction wrought through Christ's death.
In the second phase of the dispute, four interconnected issues were discussed: the role of fear in contrition, the relation of faith and poenitentia, the preaching of the law, and the interpretation of Galatians 3:19. In the German version the section on doctrine defined poenitentia as contrition and sorrow over sin and "fear before God's judgment."11 There was no hint of compromise here. After stressing that clerics were to preach not only against gross sins but also against hypocrisy (which was a much more serious sin and demanded harder poenitentia), the German version reproduced word for word the agreement reached at the Torgau between Melanchthon and Agricola as it had been proposed by Luther.12
However, the very next line, in the section entitled "On the Ten Commandments," made clear that Agricola's low estimation of the Ten Commandments had no place in the teaching of Saxony: "Therefore they [the preachers] ought to preach the Ten Commandments often and diligently." 13 As in the Latin original, the German version entreated preachers to stress punishment for sin, so that the people would learn to fear God. All this indicated that Agricola's position found no ready hearing among Wittenberg's theologians or Saxony's visitors. When he accepted Luther's compromise formula and did not object to other phrasings in the document, Luther and the others had every reason to believe that the case was closed. Thus, the agreement at the Torgau reflected more Agricola's duplicity or his theological unclarity than Luther's gullibility.
In the midst of a discussion of contrition and satisfaction, however, the German version acquiesced to one of Agricola's objections to the original Visitation Articles. Melanchthon's version had warned only against faith without contrition. Now the document insisted that there should also be no contrition without faith. One should not only be contrite but should also know that forgiveness comes for the sake of Christ. What followed echoed the comments in Luther's letter to Melanchthon from October 1527: "For contrition without faith causes doubt, as in Judas and Saul. Likewise, one cannot have genuine faith without con trition."15 The text asserted Luther's conviction that the Christian is simultaneously contrite and believing. It is noteworthy that the compromise even incorporated one of Agricola's favorite examples of bad poenitentia: Judas.16
One final objection of Agricola found no acceptance in the German version.17 Agricola had challenged Melanchthon's interpretation of Galatians 3:19 as a reference to the first use of the law; among Agricola's evidence was Luther's interpretation of the verse as a reference to the second use of the law. Although that particular portion of the section on the Ten Commandments that contained the citation in question did not make it from the Latin into the German version, the verse itself did. In the section on free will, Melanchthon had originally used only 1 Timothy 1:8-9 to prove that the law was given to limit human freedom. In the German version Galatians 3:19 was added. Here there was no room for compromise with Agricola. The Reformation in Wittenberg was not about lockstep biblical interpretation. A scholastic mind-set that rejected everything not in Luther's works had yet to develop among the Lutherans-if it ever did. Within the teaching of the gospel a wide latitude was allowed the exegete. 18 The interpretation of Scripture was to be based on conformity to the gospel, not on conformity to a teacher.
The other area where Agricola's presence could be felt in the German version of the Visitation Articles was its omissions. Because the German version was a complete reworking and in part restructuring of the whole, it is difficult to determine what was left out. It would seem, however, that much of the polemical tone of the Latin version, which reflected its origins in the encounter with Aquila's preaching, was omitted. The Ten Commandments remained at the beginning, but Melanchthon's characteristic teaching of the two uses of the law was omitted. Nevertheless, the basic structure (poenitentia, faith, good works), the movement from law to gospel, the insistence on contrition preceding justifying faith, and the overall tone of the work had not changed. In point of fact, none of Agricola's challenges was accepted in such a way as to change the overall tone or content of the work.
In 1528 John Setzer published a revised edition of the Latin version of the Visitation Articles.19 For the most part the changes were minor, involving improvements in grammar or syntax, the omission of a sentence or two, or the addition of other sentences. It is not even clear whether Melanchthon himself made the changes. However, there are hints that not all the changes were simply cosmetic. Where the first edition talked about faith occurring "in the contrite heart," the second edition revised the phrase to read "in those whose hearts have been terrified or (as they say) made contrite."20 Melanchthon maintained a discreet distance between the word "contrite" and his own theology ("as they say"). It was not his terminology but that of the "doctores." In the section "On the Fruits of the Spirit," Melanchthon originally had not clearly tied the fruits of faith to faith itself. In the second edition he stressed that any discussion of these fruits should not occur outside of a discussion of faith itself: "One must often return to this and say how [God] justifies .1121 In the section "On Human Traditions," several changes were made to lessen the criticism aimed at pastors like Aquila who railed against church practices without preaching about the fear of God.22 The second edition also clarified the earlier comments regarding those who interpreted attacks on some traditions as attacks on all laws. Whereas in the first edition Melanchthon had simply said that a great part of the common people "do not know that the violation of traditions was made with cause, and they begin to condemn divine and human traditions,"23 in the revised edition he stated that they do not know "for what cause it is permitted to violate traditions, nor do they differentiate between the precepts of God and human traditions. Contempt of all laws then leads them to condemn divine and human tradi- tions."24 Perhaps most important of all, under the discussion of the first use of the law the reference to Galatians 3:19 was deleted, again in line with Agricola's objections.
Melanchthon's Catechetical Fragment
With the publication of the "130 Fragestiicke" Agricola's contribution to the catechesis of Saxony came to an end. Throughout 1528, however, his catechisms were as widely distributed as any from this time. Given his sharp attack against Wittenberg's theology, it is hardly surprising that at just about the time his work was being delivered to the Wittenberg presses, George Spalatin was urging (even demanding, given the tone of Melanchthon's responses) that Melanchthon write a catechism of his own.25 According to Ferdinand Cohrs's reconstruction, the printer George Rhau was also urging Melanchthon to write a catechism. In a letter to Stephen Roth, dated 30 October 1528, Rhau connected the revision of "Eyn buchlin fur die leyen vnd kinder," on which Roth had worked the year before'26 with Melanchthon's renewed work on parts of the catechism.27
Rhau's plans and Spalatin's demands never resulted in the publication of such a book, at least not in the 1520s. All we have of the work is a single copy of the first two sheets that was once in the possession of Stephen Roth, who added to the bottom of the last page, "It was completed only to this point, and Mr. Philip does not want to work further on it."28 Melanchthon stopped working at the time Luther began his own set of catechisms. Cohrs assumed that once Melanchthon heard that Luther was writing a catechism, he no longer saw any need to write his own.29
The surviving fragment reveals that for Melanchthon the debate with Agricola was still going on.30 In the preface Melanchthon acknowl edged that the catechism had already been interpreted "by many godly people," among whom one thinks immediately of Agricola. Yet Melanchthon insisted that such interpretation should occur over and over again. There is no other sure help for the Christian surrounded by sin, the devil, and unbelief than God's Word, in which we learn about God's anger over sin and his grace for those who believe in him.
This insistence on law before gospel and poenitentia before faith spilled over into the interpretation of the Ten Commandments that followed. Commenting on the first commandment, Melanchthon, echoing Luther's catechetical sermons of 1528, described how both fear and faith are demanded, with fear coming first. Commenting on the second commandment, Melanchthon described Christian prayer and the cross. All afflictions in the Christian life are sent, not to condemn us, but to lead us topoenitentia. Melanchthon accepted one of Agricola's concerns by admitting that reason does not understand this. Only faith realizes that God does a strange work in order to do his proper work (Isa. 28:21), and that, accordingly, in the midst of afflictions the heart should cling to the promises. At the same time, faith itself breaks out in the midst of such difficulties and prays to God for help.32 We have no further indications of Melanchthon's catechetical reaction to this dispute, since he broke off his work in the middle of his explanation of the third commandment.
These arguments have been encountered in this study time and time again. This fragment, written a year after the dispute, shows how the controversy continued to weigh on Melanchthon's mind and to affect his theological formulations. When speaking of faith, he always began not with the gospel but with the law.
The Catechisms of Martin Luther
Melanchthon could break off his work precisely because another had taken up the cause and was working out his own approach to the commandments, faith, and poenitentia-an endeavor that was destined to have far-reaching effects for the life of the evangelical churches. The single most important correction of Agricola's catechesis came not from Melanchthon at all, but from Luther. His catechisms, viewed within the context of this dispute, arose out of and answered the challenges contained in Agricola's "130 FragestUcke." This connection has largely been ignored in the secondary literature.33 Yet both Wittenberg's problems with Agricola's theology, sermons, and catechisms and Agricola's public dispute with Melanchthon provide essential background for understanding the timing and shape of Luther's cate- chisms.34 Because they were written after the Torgau conference, there is no direct polemic against Agricola's position. At the same time, they reflect the compromise language that brought about peace between the two parties.
Participation in the visitation profoundly affected both Melanchthon and Luther. The preface to Luther's Small Catechism poignantly testi fled to the "deplorable, wretched need" and the "misery" of the commoners who had no idea whatsoever of Christian doctrine and lived "like the dear cattle and irrational pigs."35 But it also recognized that Wittenberg's gospel had led to a kind of gross antinomianism: "Now that the gospel has come, [the people] have nonetheless learned well to misuse masterfully all freedom."36 In the new preface to the Large Catechism from 1530 Luther reiterated this complaint, speaking of "such lazy, harmful, shameful, fleshly freedom."37
Along with the attack on licentiousness came, in stark contrast to Agricola's catechisms, praise for the Ten Commandments. In the new preface to the Large Catechism Luther equated God's Word with the commandments.38 He even made the startling comment that the Ten Commandments encompass all of God's Word: "For this must certainly be [the case]: all who know the Ten Commandments well and completely must know the entire Scripture, so that in all matters and cases they might counsel, help, comfort, judge both spiritual and secular issues, and might be judges of all teaching, estates, spirits, law, and whatever else may be in the world."39 Indeed, the entire psalter was in Luther's opinion nothing less than a reflection on the first commandment, and the catechism, Ten Commandments included, was nothing other than a compendium and summary of the whole Bible 40
The actual comments on the Ten Commandments in the Large Catechism and the sermons from 1528 on which they were based again reflected Luther's high regard for the Decalog and contrasted with Agricola's rather ancillary handling of it in the "130 Fragestticke." The positioning of the Ten Commandments at the beginning of both the Large and Small Catechisms demonstrated Luther's conviction that law moves to gospel. Accordingly, the first commandment demands faith in the heart, and the second demands correct use of the mouth and tongue in relation to God. Only the third commandment, with its external prohibition of work on the Sabbath, is limited to the Jews: "Thus this command does not now apply in its superficial meaning to us Christians. For it is a completely external thing, like the other regulations of the Old Testament. "41 But then Luther contrasted this crude understanding to the true intention of the commandment: to allow workers rest and to set aside a day for the hearing of God's Word. At this level the commandment still applies to the Christian. Luther refused to limit Moses to the Rathaus and completely reduce the Decalog to a Jewish Sachsenspiegel.
Luther's practical and thorough exposition of the second table of the law also revealed his conviction that all people stand under the law and that no one is exempt from its demands. A curious exception came in the introduction to the ninth and tenth commandments, where he applied them to the Jews.42 However, Luther went on to say that the reason these commandments were added for the Jews was to make clear to them what Christians already understood about the commandments, namely, that they were not fulfilled merely through external compliance but spoke to the heart.43
The conclusion to the discussion of the commandments distinguished Agricola's antinomianism from Luther's theology. Luther asserted that the tenth commandment, like all the others, "accuses us without ceasing and shows how righteous we are before God."44 More than just a threat, the commands are the font of all good works; outside of obeying them no work or being can please God.45 Luther also tied the commandments directly to the other chief parts of the catechism. Because no one can keep even one of the Ten Commandments, everyone needs the Creed and the Lord's Prayer.46
The conclusion to the discussion of the Ten Commandments pointed to yet another connection with the dispute over the Visitation Articles: Luther used the compromise language he had proposed at the Torgau conference. Already in his third series of sermons on the commandments Luther had connected fear and faith as a "little wreath" that binds the first to the last.47 In the Large Catechism he included love as well. Fear, love, and trust in God fulfill the first commandment and thereby all the others.48 Luther repeatedly stressed this fear and love throughout his explanations of the commandments in the Small Catechism, thereby reflecting his conviction that the repentance brought about by the commandments involves both. The Ten Commandments provide the correct antidote for human works. To divide fear and love or to lessen the commandments' importance, as Agricola did in his catechisms, was unthinkable for Luther: "one should certainly hold them above all other teachings as precious and valuable, as the highest treasure given by God."49
Gustav Kawerau has insisted that Luther made no attacks on Agricola's catechisms between the time of Agricola's dispute with Melanchthon and the outbreak of the antinomian controversy in 1537. This contrasted, he claims, to Luther's condemnation in 1540 of a new Latin version of the "130 Fragestucke."50 Yet even before that time, in the 1539 tract "Wider die Antinomer," Luther recalled that his exposition of the Decalog in the catechisms had always stressed the law. 1 Luther was recalling one of the original motivations for his catechisms and the reason for their heavy emphasis on the law. In fact, nearly half of the Large Catechism was devoted to the Ten Commandments!
Another evidence against Kawerau's claim is that at the very time Luther was preaching his second series on the catechism (1528), rumors reached him from the court (possibly from Spalatin) of a suspicious sermon preached by Agricola in the presence of John Frederick. Luther's subsequent letter to Agricola (11 September 1528), having expressed concern that Agricola had preached that faith could exist without works, warned him to beware of the devil's tricks.52 Agricola's response, written in unusually clear, Lutheresque language, affirmed his commitment to justification by faith alone.53 Luther's belated reply (1 February 1529) gave lukewarm approval to Agricola's explanation.54 All the while, in catechetical sermons and in the catechisms themselves, Luther defended the role of law and works in the Christian life, nowhere more clearly than in his sermon on the fourth commandment, delivered on 17 September 1528: "Here good work and a holy life are commanded for children, what people unfortunately despise and do not consider to be a precept of God."55
There is additional evidence that Luther's catechisms were a response to Agricola's. We saw earlier (p. 49) that Luther had called for new evangelical catechisms in 1525, giving the task to Justus Jonas and Agricola. When that team broke apart in mid-year, Luther intimated to Nicholas Hausmann that he would take on the job himself. The intervening hiatus of four years has been difficult for modern scholarship to explain. Perhaps "Eyn buchlin fur die leyen vnd kinder" and Agricola's catechisms seemed sufficient to Luther, burdened as he was by the growing controversy over the Lord's Supper and the establishment of evangelical churches throughout the empire. By his own testimony, what moved him to action was the Saxon visitation itself, coupled with both the misery it revealed and the controversy it engendered. Spalatin demanded action. Melanchthon tried to respond. But Luther, thrust into the middle of the catechization of his own parish by the absence of Johann Bugenhagen and confronted with mistaken understandings of the law and poenitentia, finally had to provide evangelical resources faithful to Wittenberg's theology and practice.
This chain of events may also explain the peculiar place confession held in both catechisms. For one thing, the first edition of neither the Small Catechism nor the Large Catechism contained an explanation of confession. However, in both cases Luther added material. The additional material for the Large Catechism appeared already in 1529. It clearly reflected the earliest struggles over the Visitation Articles and their inclusion of contrition and confession in the definition of poenitentia. Luther, avoiding the traditional language, distinguished evangelical private confession from its medieval predecessor. However, he rejected the argument that evangelical freedom was an excuse not to come to confession.56 He insisted that sorrow over sin, confession, and absolution defined the rite. Although Luther's explanation accorded with the Visitation Articles, he also insisted beyond any shadow of a doubt that private confession did not simply bind consciences to the law but freed them through the gospel. Thus in the Large Catechism, unlike the Visitation Articles, absolution itself, not confession, stood at the forefront. The reason was not that Luther here was tilting toward antinomianism, but that he assumed that Christians come to confession because the law has done its work. Because they see their great need, Christians are hungry for forgiveness.57 The whole point of Luther's lengthy exposition of the Ten Commandments was to demonstrate that need.
With the publication of Luther's catechisms in 1529 a turning point was reached in evangelical catechesis. Agricola's best-selling works sank into obscurity, and during the antinomian controversy the Latin translation of the "130 Fragestticke" even ended up under Luther's ban. After 1529, Luther's catechisms ruled the marketplace, finally becoming in 1580 a part of the confessions of the Lutheran church.59 They arose in the aftermath of a conflict over the law, a conflict that had a profound bearing on their form, content, and perhaps their very existence. As a contrast to Agricola's catechisms, they defined, perhaps more clearly than has heretofore been noticed, the contours of the later conflict between the two men. At least by 1540 both realized this fact and allowed it, too, to become a part of their struggle.
The Battle of the Commentaries
If the Visitation Articles and even more so Martin Luther's catechisms decisively shaped the struggle over catechetical instruction, a similar statement cannot be made for the exegetical contributions of the combatants. In fact, completely unnoticed by previous scholarship is the fact that in the commentaries, especially in Melanchthon's Scholia of 1528, the dispute continued to simmer. (That in 1536 another phase of this same disagreement became public in the Cordatus controversy is, in light of this fact, hardly surprising.)60
Agricola's Annotations on the Gospel of Luke
In May 1529 John Setzer once again published Agricola's commentary on Luke. It contained a new dedicatory epistle to George Alemann of Magdeburg, dated 29 March 1529. In it Agricola mentioned that he had made only small changes in the commentary. Most reflected responses to current theological questions. For example, into his discussion of Luke 18:15-17 he inserted a defense of infant baptism against the Anabaptists. He expanded other sections with the additions of German sayings or scriptural examples. The only other substantive changes came in the area of poenitentia.
In 1525 and 1526, as part of his discussion of John the Baptist's preaching of repentance, Agricola had written: "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."61 In 1529 Agricola struck out the last part of this sentence.62 There is no doubt that, although he did not use the threefold division of poenitentia himself, Agricola was now willing to allow some to use it without "erring to the highest heaven." This indicates that Agricola accepted some sort of compromise at least on the first phase of the dispute.
A less clear indication of compromise came in Agricola's discussion of the story of Zacchaeus (Luke 19). Here the reference to Ephesians 4 ("Let the one who stole no longer steal") remained, as did the German saying. One word changed, however. Whereas in 1525 and 1526 Agricola stated, "Nimmer thun ist die hochste bug (No longer to do a thing is the highest Bufle)," in 1529 he changed it to read, "Nimmer thun ist die her-test bul3 (No longer to do a thing is the hardest Buge). 1163 The two words are very closely related in German. Nevertheless, it would seem that Agricola was willing here to admit that his favorite way to understand poenitentia, namely, as a changed life that needs no repentance, was not simply the highest or best way, but rather the hardest way, a path that beginners would not easily be able to follow. Melanchthon's criticism, with its insistence on feeding beginners milk, not meat, had had some effect.
By far the largest and most important addition came in a section entitled "De poenitentiae ratione." In addition to the small excision we have already noted, Agricola tacked on to the end of his discussion eight numbered statements explaining his position. This description was his last word on the subject until the antinomian controversy of 1537.
More clearly than heretofore, Agricola defined poenitentia in terms of justification by grace alone. His first point, that poenitentia is not some sort of external work prepared by the free will, revealed his underlying opposition to those who tried to smuggle in works in order to justify themselves. Contrary to this misconception, Agricola argued, secondly, that poenitentia is a gift of God. To emphasize this point, Agricola excluded both the preaching of the law and of the gospel, if it occurred without the Holy Spirit. But the way in which he excluded such preaching shows that he was still adamant about his position on the law:
Here Agricola excluded the preaching of threats from the process completely. His caveat concerning the preaching of the gospel was that it would not function properly without the Spirit.
In the next three points, Agricola explored the nature of the preaching of poenitentia. He began with a definition of poenitentia clearly different from Melanchthon's. The right name for poenitentia was resipis- centia, a coming to one's senses, which occurs precisely as John the Baptist described it, namely wherever the kingdom of heaven draws near. This meant for Agricola that the preaching of poenitentia-really for him the heart of the controversy-was nothing other than "a word that teaches why a life must be changed."65 Now in his view this word was precisely that of the benefits of God, healing the sick, raising the dead, and driving out the demons. He summarized in German the gist of such preaching: "Let yourselves be moved by this goodness and renounce your previous life."66 Agricola's conviction that only the gospel ("dise gute") brought about poenitentia remained unaffected by the dispute. It also remained bound to a command ("Last! ... stehet!") and hence was perhaps even more nomistic than Melanchthon's law-based system of thought.
The last three points demonstrate that Agricola still viewed the preaching of poenitentia within the context of polemic against late medieval piety. That is, precisely the factor that had motivated Melanchthon to write the Visitation Articles the way he did, namely preaching by the likes of Caspar Aquila against the old church, remained crucial to Agricola's understanding ofpoenitentia. He divided the gospel, which is light, from the world, which is darkness. In this darkness the human heart had imagined that practices like invocation of the saints, distinction between foods, observance of certain days, and the wearing of certain clothes were sacred means of pleasing God.67 But, he continued, now that the gospel has appeared in our age and we have discovered that there is only one mediator between us and God, namely Christ, we have to beware of making distinctions between foods and the like, which are in reality the doctrine of demons. Once we have seen the light, we begin to loathe the darkness of past practices. Poenitentia, which Agricola defined as a change of heart, counsels, and actions, arises from the light, but teaches us at the same time ("simul") knowledge of our infirmities, so that we long for God to complete in us what he has begun.68 With this single "simul" Agricola came as close as he could to accepting Melanchthon and Luther's understanding of law and gospel. However, here he was talking of what the human being experiences in hearing the gospel and not a movement from law to gospel. At least he admitted that seeing the light and seeing one's infirmities take place at the same time.
Melanchthon's Scholia of 1528
After the confrontation with Agricola, Melanchthon also returned to his writing desk to edit for a second time his Scholia on Colossians. He brought with him the memories of the four-month-long public struggle over the meaning of poenitentia and the law. He also brought with him the outline of the agreement worked out at the Torgau for dealing with the differences and the personal hurt inflicted by a former friend who had refused to shake his hand. All these experiences played themselves out in the Scholia in a much fuller way than in any other writing of Melanchthon from this time. We have here Melanchthon's last and most complete word on the subject.69
There are several small signs that Melanchthon tried to lessen the sharpness of his differences with Agricola. One such sign came outside the major area of dispute. It will be remembered that Melanchthon wrote the Scholia in part as a reaction to Agricola's sermons on Colossians, published at the very beginning of 1527. One of their early disagreements involved the interpretation of Colossians 1:3-9. In 1527 Melanchthon was not afraid to say, "Concerning this text I know that others have debated many things subtly."70 In 1528, with the omission and addition of just a few words he revised the sentence to read, "Concerning this text I know it is usual that it be debated subtly."71 Then, taking the edge off his typical "I will keep things simple for the common people,"72 Melanchthon added, "But we will explain it as best we can, most crudely."73
Melanchthon's actual interpretation of Colossians 1 (in which Paul seems to imply that the Colossians will be rewarded by God with eternal life for their good works) varied little in content from the previous year, except that he clearly granted the law a positive role in all aspects of the Christian life. Of course, Melanchthon began, we are to do good works without thought of reward. But because of the flesh, whose love for reward we cannot purge during this life, the teaching of the law is like a guide (paedagogia) inviting with rewards and deterring through punishments.74 For the saints rewards and punishments function as signs for discerning God's will. Punishments signify wrath; rewards, mercy and grace. The saints avoid punishments and thus God's wrath, of which they are signs. At the same time faith is aroused by rewards, which the saints view not just as signs of grace, but signs of the magnitude of God's goodness and of God's promises.75 God makes promises so that the saints know from whom to expect blessings and to ask for all things. The hope spoken of in this text is, then, the expectation of good from God not because of our merits but because of God's promise.
What had changed? By stating that "it is usual that [Col. 1] be debated subtly" (instead of that "others" have debated it subtly), Melanchthon gave the impression that he himself could have argued in a more complicated manner. Accordingly, he excused himself for speaking in a very crass manner. Already in the Scholia of 1527 Melanchthon had argued that rewards are signs of the divine will, of God's magnanimity, and of God's promise. However, in 1528 for the first time he connected such rewards to the law. Through punishments and rewards the law guides the believer. In 1534 this understanding of the law's function would become a central part of Melanchthon's interpretation of Colossians (see pp. 195-96). In 1528 the law was already viewed as a guide for the carnal believer. Of course, this resulted in Melanchthon's further distancing himself from Agricola's position. The law now gained a positive function in the life of the believer-not just terrifying the conscience, but also guiding the believer further in mortification and faith.
Disagreements with Agricola, however, did not occur only over peripheral matters. They also touched the heart of the controversy. On the one hand, Melanchthon took the opportunity, much as Agricola had in his annotations on Luke, to define more precisely his understanding of poenitentia. On the other, he also went out of his way to define the correct preaching of the law in the context of Christian freedom.
Melanchthon discussed poenitentia in the context of remarks on Colossians 2:11-12. He completely reworked his original comments of 1527, expanding them from three pages to eight.76 From the very first words there is little doubt who the opponent was: "This text gives the order and form of our justification; for it describes mortification, or poenitentia, and vivification or remission of sins."77 Working with dialectical precision, Melanchthon first defined righteousness as properly and truly fides qua, the faith by which we believe that we are received in grace by the Father on account of Christ. This was crucial for his argument. He wanted to avoid any criticism that he had abandoned the evangelical faith. He also explained away the agreement worked out at the Torgau which had allowed that in some sense faith was already present in contrition.18 Here Melanchthon stressed justifying faith and refused to use language that both he and Luther considered confusing for the common folk.
Having made this beginning, Melanchthon added, "People must be taught how they receive faith."79 The issue, even here, was a catechetical one. After all, Melanchthon conceived the commentary in just this light. He included a description of the danger that had remained constant throughout the dispute. Many imagine that they believe, when in fact they depart from faith "longissime (by a long shot)." Such faith as they think they have leads to hypocrisy and "most harmful security (nocentissima securitas)." In a direct reflection of the Visitation Articles he referred to John 16:8 ("The Holy Spirit convicts [arguet] the world of sin, righteousness, and judgment") and stressed that the verb "arguere" means "condemnare ac perterrefacere (to condemn or terrify)." He concluded, "Therefore this is poenitentia, so to acknowledge sins that we truly sense the wrath and judgment of God against sin and are truly terrified."80 Melanchthon was arguing here in his best syllogistic style. The major came from the Scripture. The minor was based upon a definition ("arguere" means "perterrefacere"). The conclusion provided the central definition for Melanchthon's entire argument.
In the next paragraph, Melanchthon discussed, as he had the year before, the various words for mortification. This time, however, he reflected upon what this variety meant for the exegete. First, it caused trouble for the unskilled (such as Agricola?). Because of this, Melanchthon painstakingly explained what the various words meant. Second, Melanchthon argued that Paul used so many different words in order that "we may more correctly understand the power of poenitentia." Each word helped fill out the meaning of poenitentia. Precisely this kind of collatio stood at the heart of his loci method. Each of the words revealed a different part of the definition that made up the commonplace poenitentia, a commonplace that excluded Agricola's theology by definition.
Melanchthon then discussed the first phase of the controversy over the Visitation Articles. On his own terms he criticized the way in which the Scholastics had divided up poenitentia! "The Schools made three parts out of poenitentia: contrition, confession, and satisfaction. They took this division more from the rites of the church than from Scrip ture."81 After censuring the Scholastic theologians' neglect of the Scripture, he attacked their misunderstanding of satisfaction. According to Melanchthon, satisfaction had originally been instituted by bishops not as a way of making atonement for sins or meriting grace, but as a way of either readmitting lapsed sinners into the church as an example of God's grace or discovering whether they had undergone a change of heart. This was not understood by the Scholastic theologians, who used an old name for a new idea, namely that we make satisfaction for sin through our own merits. But there is no satisfaction for sin other than Christ.
Of course, these were criticisms found in the Visitation Articles themselves. New, however, were the specific reference to the practice in the ancient church and the complaint that Scholastic theologians had misused the word. Given the attack on the threefold division of poenitentia, Melanchthon felt compelled to agree with the attackers, but on his own terms.
Turning to the second part of poenitentia, confession, Melanchthon assumed that his audience knew the ecclesial origins of the word and proceeded immediately to a scriptural definition. Confession occurs when the conscience, terrified before God, acknowledges its sin and admits that it is justly condemned. It does not accuse God's judgment but only asks for grace and mercy and praises the God who justifies sinners. Melanchthon, stung by the charge that his understanding ofpoenitentia led to a simulated sorrow for sin, added that this kind of confession occurs only "amid true terrors and the most bitter afflictions."82 The word "true" protected Melanchthon from the charge, and the whole phrase set up his argument that contrition arises from fear.
At this juncture Melanchthon referred to the results of the Torgau conference: "Regarding these affections, reference must be made that some taught a poenitentia coming from a love of righteousness."83 In this one sentence lurked the entire year-long debate. This was not a chance reference to an intriguing point of view. It was much more the one place that, for the peace of the church, Melanchthon was willing to allow Agricola's position. He did not defend it; he may not even have understood it. He simply allowed for it under the terms of the agreement worked out. Along with Agricola's excision of the attack on the threefold form of poenitentia from his 1529 commentary on Luke, this one sentence reflected the truce to which both men were willing to adhere.
Having made that statement, Melanchthon then proceeded to defend his own approach and to attack Agricola's. To answer those who defined poenitentia in terms of no longer committing sin, Melanchthon turned to the remaining part of poenitentia,84 contrition, which, in his opinion, more properly corresponded to the name poenitentia. Immediately he defended himself against Agricola's charges by making clear that by contrition "you may understand not a simulated sorrow by human exertion, but true terrors that God brings about when he shows us our sin."85 The passing reference to John 16:8 and the definition of poenitentia that Melanchthon had gained from it now took full effect. He cited the examples of David before Nathan and Paul on the road to Damascus, what Paul had called in Romans 1 "shame or confusion."86 He then discussed the possible parts of contrition: "true, not simulated, fear of divine judgment, acknowledgment of sin, and shame before God."87 Again, in reaction to Agricola, he stressed that this was true, not simulated fear. His insistence that it was fear of divine judgment was enhanced by the two other parts of contrition.
Next came the heart of Melanchthon's attack on Agricola's position: "It is not necessary to separate these affections more subtly. Nor is it necessary to debate more subtly what is the difference between the contrition of Judas and the contrition of Peter."88 The initial dismissal of this dispute by Luther-that Agricola was prosecuting a war of wordsMelanchthon echoed here by the word "subtiliter." This condemnation linked Luther's charge (that it was impossible to separate out one's affections in this matter) to Melanchthon's criticism of Agricola's sermons on Colossians. Dividing up penitents into Judases and Peters was too subtle.
Having said that, however, Melanchthon also gave his own interpretation of the poenitentia of these two disciples of Jesus. It is enough (satis est!) to hold that those who in their terrors receive consolation from the gospel imitate Peter's poenitentia. Those who do not want to believe the gospel of forgiveness follow the poenitentia of Judas. Here Melanchthon stood Agricola's argument on its head. For Agricola the prior promise of Christ worked repentance and sorrow for sin in Peter. Peter had a word; Judas did not. For Melanchthon those in the midst of terror grasped the promise. Peter had faith, Judas did not. The order of terror to consolation, law to gospel, was thus preserved. Melanchthon had completely revoked his lip service to Agricola's position.
After a brief examination of the words circumcision and baptism, Melanchthon revisited the question of the order of poenitentia and faith. Faith arises when the terrified heart hears the promise of forgiveness. "Therefore faith cannot be experienced without poenitentia or contrition."90 This was the heart of Melanchthon's understanding of poenitentia. He tied his analysis of the Pauline vocabulary to his conclusion by adding that first ("primum") there are circumcision, mortification, and baptism, then ("postea") follows being revived with Christ through faith. As protection against any charge of works-righteousness, he used capital letters for the phrase PER FIDEM to stress that faith excludes merits and satisfactions. "It is faith alone that rescues us in those terrors and justifies us before God."91
To this argument Melanchthon appended a section that may well be seen as an early attempt to develop the concept of a third use of the law. In the light of the battle with Agricola the reasons seem clear. Agricola, after all, had a place to discuss the new life because of his movement from gospel to poenitentia. Melanchthon, having placed gospel at the end of the movement in the Christian life, now felt compelled to discuss what happens after justification. He argued that because new life arises in the heart as a result of poenitentia, it follows that the external members must be restrained lest they do something against the will of God. Human nature is then renewed through the Holy Spirit, who acts to perfect the Christian throughout life. Thus one experiences a growth in faith and its fruits.
This discussion allowed Melanchthon to return to his defense that poenitentia as he defined it is not simulated. When Paul talks of circumcision, he is talking of something that takes place in the heart, "not a simulation of sorrow" or some external work. Again Melanchthon built upon John 16 and pointed to the work of the Holy Spirit through the Word. He "convicts (arguit) concerning sin, righteousness, and judgment"93-sin, because reason does not see unbelief as sin and tries to justify itself by works; judgment, because we do not condemn our concupiscence but love it; righteousness, because terrified consciences are consoled by the announcement of forgiveness of sins.
Finally, Melanchthon could discuss one of Agricola's most cherished texts, Luke 24:47. Jesus' command that the disciples preach poenitentia and remission of sins in his name, Melanchthon argued, must be understood in the light of the two parts of Christian teaching. The first shows and accuses sin and occurs in the preaching of the law. And then Melanchthon adds, "Christ employed [such preaching] in Matthew 5,"94 a perfectly harmless comment until connected to the breakfast debate with Agricola at the Torgau. That Christ preached the law is in line with Paul's comment in Romans 3:20 that through the law comes knowledge of sin. The second part of Christian teaching "is properly called the `gospel,' namely, the preaching of remission of sins and the promise of the Holy Spirit."95 This dual sermon is best shown by the prophet Nathan's preaching to David.
Thus ended Melanchthon's most extensive attack against Agricola's position on poenitentia. Jesus preached the law. Faith arises from the gospel; it has nothing to do with contrition. The preaching of the law is part of the order of Christian life and doctrine. The only part of the complex of Agricola's ideas that Melanchthon did not attack here concerned the preaching of the law itself. That he left for his discussion of the meaning of Christian freedom.
Agricola's concept of Christian freedom was based upon what he deemed to be the exclusive role of the gospel. The gospel freed the Christian from the law: ceremonies, traditions, and even the Decalog. Only in external things of the flesh, including government, did the law have some provisional part to play. For Melanchthon this smacked of fleshly freedom and license. It undermined the authority of government and good order in the church. In the Scholia of 1528 as nowhere else at this time, Melanchthon dealt with this web of issues and defined his views on the matter over against those of Agricola.
In the context of his discussion of Colossians 3:11 (a verse to which Luther had referred in the German version of the Visitation Articles)96 Melanchthon inserted an aside on Christian freedom. About half of the original comments from 1527 remained in 1528, but even they were thoroughly edited by Melanchthon. For example, in 1528 while arguing that Christians are free not to follow the Mosaic code in matters of public law, Melanchthon added that we ought to obey the commandments and "not set the promise against the command."97 Such a comment, directed in the first instance against Thomas Mintzer and others, also fit Agricola's insistence in the "130 Fragestucke" that the Ten Commandments no longer applied to Christians.
This discussion led Melanchthon directly to the problem of preaching the Decalog, a major bone of contention between him and Agricola. He began by dividing the law into three parts, ceremonial, judicial, and moral. This was parallel to his discussion in 1527. Now, however, Melanchthon felt compelled to defend his use of this division. First, he pointed out that the church fathers (veteres) had used it. He claimed to follow it and to use it for instructional purposes "because it contributes something in teaching of the light."98 Again, as with the use of the threefold division of poenitentia, Melanchthon claimed to have a pedagogical reason for his division of the law. Of course, it also helped him refute Agricola's claims.
And refute them he did. Several biblical passages stood in Agricola's way. First, already in 1527 Melanchthon had argued that the messianic prophecy in Genesis 49:10 predicts the passing away of the ceremonial and judicial laws. Then he turned to the Jerusalem Council in Acts 15, to which Agricola had also appealed to show that all law no longer applies. Melanchthon, on the contrary, interpreted the passage as excluding ceremonies such as circumcision.
After rejecting the notion (proposed by radicals during the Peasants' War) that the Old Testament laws be applied in Germany, Melanchthon turned to the question of the Decalog and set his sights on Agricola. Again the subtlety of Agricola's arguments came under attack: "But perhaps someone may subtly object that the Decalog does not pertain to us, insofar as it is part of the political ordinances given to the people by Moses. I do not like this useless subtlety, but I will walk in the well-trodden way."99 Melanchthon took a third (well-trodden) path for himself, placing Agricola, who wanted to exclude even the Decalog from the Christian life, on the one side, and radicals, who wanted to bring ceremonial and judicial practices of the Old Testament back into the common life, on the other.
Melanchthon's proofs subtly accused both sides of innovations. He began with the observation that the Decalog, unlike the ceremonial and judicial laws, does not define a people but commands purity of the heart. The Decalog has not been abrogated, for it is in fact the law of nature written in every human heart, and it always accuses and condemns the guilty. By removing our guilt the gospel takes away even this law. However, although the accusatio has been dropped, the notitia remains. Melanchthon went even further, offering this syllogism: in the gospel Christ gave the command to love; Paul said that all the precepts of the law are contained in the command to love; therefore, the Decalog is repeated in the gospel and must be retained. This was no theoretical argument! Once again Melanchthon was sitting at breakfast in the Torgau and refuting Agricola's claim that only Paul's precepts, not the Decalog, ought to be taught. Melanchthon added that faith is not lazy. The law shows us works, not so that we may be justified through them, but so that, since we cannot get through this life without works, God may reveal to us the particular works to be done.
After summarizing his arguments,'°° Melanchthon introduced the two offices of the law.101 For the first use he cited 1 Timothy 1:8f. and Galatians 3:24. The gospel teaches the righteousness of the heart; only the law teaches civil righteousness, a righteousness written on human hearts. The other function of the law is to show sin and terrify the conscience. Here Melanchthon cited Romans 3:19. This discussion of the law very closely matched other discussions of Melanchthon's from the same period. What followed reflected his answer to Agricola's exclusion of the law from the gospel. Using a broader definition of gospel (not simply the mercy and goodness of God, but the New Testament), Melanchthon proposed an enthymeme: because the gospel contains the preaching of poenitentia, it is necessary to accuse and show sin. Citing Romans 1:18, Melanchthon then constructed the following syllogism: The accusation of sin takes place through the law written on human hearts. This law is nothing other than the Decalog. "Therefore we use the Decalog or the law of nature for preaching poenitentia, that is, for the convicting [cf. John 16:8] and showing of sin."102 Agricola's rejection of the Decalog had been overturned with the syllogistic precision of a master.
Remember that Melanchthon began with a peace gesture, the premise that the preaching of poenitentia is part of the gospel. He moved logically from that premise, however, to the law. Did he now mean to fight Agricola in the open? Not at this time. Immediately after his triumphant conclusion he added this conciliatory comment: "Whoever contends that convicting of sin is not part of the law but of the gospel-with him I will not fight very much. 11103 He reduced even this objection of Agricola to a war of words and refused to fight. Nevertheless, he went on to insist that "I call (voco)" the remission of sins the gospel and "I call (voco)" that which accuses, condemns, and terrifies consciences the law. Thus "I want (volo)" the law to be understood to accuse us not just of external trespasses, but also of concupiscence. Here Melanchthon was personally arguing his case against one man, Agricola. He again pointed out that Christ preached on the law in Matthew 5 and that Paul called the law spiritual, so that it did not concern only civil discipline. Suddenly, he was back at the Torgau making the connection between the preaching of the law and poenitentia:
Some teach that the principal element of poenitentia is knowledge of the benefits of Christ, which I grant. Nevertheless, it is necessary to convict of sin, which happens through the law, because the remission of sins cannot be understood or received without prior conviction of sins. And these are the reasons why the Decalog is retained, although other parts of the Mosaic law are no longer taught.104
The agreement was intact ("quod ut largiar"), but the disagreement still festered ("tamen opus est"). Returning to the language of John 16 ("arguere peccata"), Melanchthon pled again for the use of the law, without which remission of sins cannot be received. He assumed that his syllogistic best would help Agricola see the necessity of the law in this situation. Only ten years later did he and Luther discover how great the differences between them and Agricola had become.
From this basis, Melanchthon then described a third level of Christian freedom, pertaining to human traditions. Here, too, the Visitation Articles and their controversies were not far in the background, especially the preaching of Aquila. Even more strongly than in 1527, Melanchthon begged for moderation. He argued here that those who follow traditions, including the ancient canons, should not do so as if they were necessary for salvation.101 For we have freedom in such matters. At the same time, Melanchthon counseled that we should not simply break old traditions at the expense of scandalizing the weak, who might interpret their freedom as a license to sin. Traditions were to be violated when the Pharisees implied that they were necessary for salvation, but otherwise they were to be followed for the sake of the weak multitude. Melanchthon connected this principle specifically to church practices and worship and argued that there was no need to foster unrest.106
In comments on Colossians 4:5 Melanchthon returned to the issue of freedom, again arguing against those who use their Christian freedom as license and speaking of an "intemperate use of Christian liberty in unnecessary things." When faith was at stake, then the clausula Petri (Acts 5:29) had to be invoked, but "in `middle things,' as they are called, certainly it is beneficial to watch carefully lest we abuse lib erty."107 Here Melanchthon invoked the concept of adiaphora, which he called "res mediae" (the Greek appeared first in 1534), a term he acknowledged was not of his own devising ("ut uocantur"). This concept would reappear in the later dispute with Agricola over the Augsburg Interim.
In the Scholia of 1528 Melanchthon attacked Agricola in one other way. He did not limit himself to exegetical and theological battles, but also raised questions of his opponent's moral behavior. Given the comments in Melanchthon's correspondence concerning this controversy, this comes as no surprise. In a discussion of the virtues listed in Colossians 3:12, Melanchthon emphasized toleration. He mentioned the dangers of intolerance in the household, where neither person is willing to yield. He discussed the need for public tranquility, reminding his readers what happened to the Roman republic when neither Pompey nor Caesar was willing to yield. He concluded with a third example that, given what has been discussed here, was probably written with Agricola and Aquila in mind:
Perhaps this appeal for tolerance, coupled with the personal mediation of Justus Jonas, led to the renewal of the friendship between the two protagonists in this drama. However, the memory of the battle continued to affect Melanchthon's theology and his standing in the developing Lutheran church.
What kind of reception did Melanchthon's work on Colossians receive? When Jonas translated the 1528 Scholia for publication in 1529, Luther himself provided the preface. He contrasted his own woodsmanlike manner of clearing a path with Melanchthon's more agrarian approach in sowing theology. He recommended the work of his younger colleague as something all Christians should daily carry in their bosom. In the commentary Melanchthon had summarized Christian teaching and life. Luther worried that, despite such a gift, the times were so evil that, like the Israelites in the wilderness, people would become sick of such heavenly treasures as were contained in the Scholia and have the gospel taken from them. He was convinced, on the other hand, that the more people read this work, the less they would hunger after Egyptian leeks and garlic (Num. 11:4-6).109
But did Luther notice Melanchthon's spirited defense of poenitentia in the Scholia? At table in 1540 he made a comment about "Philip's books," recorded by John Mathesius: "Philip has written good books, and no one writes better concerningpoenitentia. Both the [commentaries] on Romans and Colossians and the Loci communes-those are godly books-and the [Augsburg] Confession and Apology. Ach, how fine it is to be studying now in contrast to past times."11° Although Luther was referring to the third edition of the Scholia from 1534, the material onpoenitentia had undergone no major changes between 1528 and 1534. Placed in the context of Luther's own disputes with Agricola, this endorsement ("nemo melius scribet de poenitentia") assumes even greater importance. Melanchthon and Luther clearly agreed that the Christian life moved from death to life, from law to gospel, and from poenitentia to fides.
Melanchthon's Memory of the Battle: A Long Iliad
After the conflict at the Torgau, Melanchthon and Agricola quickly restored a good relationship with each other. On 14 June 1529 Agricola sent a poignant letter of comfort to Melanchthon, who, he had learned, was beset with trials. 111 In a previous letter to Justus Jonas, Melanchthon had praised Agricola's preaching at the second Diet of Speyer and dismissed rumors that Agricola was a Zwinglian.112 In October 1529 Melanchthon sent Agricola a full report of the Marburg Colloquy, and he tried to intervene on Agricola's behalf in a dispute with Duke Ulrich of Wurttemberg over Agricola's recently published collection of ad ages. 113 In 1531 Melanchthon trusted Agricola enough to ask him for advice in making corrections to the Apology of the Augsburg Confes- sion.114 And shortly before the storm clouds of the first antinomian controversy broke over Wittenberg, Melanchthon sent Agricola, whose family had just arrived in Wittenberg, a charming letter describing how their daughters loved to play together. 115
This renewed friendship was severely strained by the events of the first antinomian controversy. By October 1537 Melanchthon was writing to friends that he was the real target in the controversy. He sent Joachim Camerarius his sarcastic declamation (entitled "Concerning the Cuckoo") attacking Jacob Schenck, a suspected antinomian, along with Luther's sermon against the antinomians.116 Despite the strain in relations during this time, Melanchthon served as a witness (with Luther!) for Agricola's purchase of a house117 and later as go-between in the dispute itself.118 After Agricola's flight to Berlin, Melanchthon again resumed a cordial exchange of letters and was even involved in trying to sell Agricola's house in Wittenberg. 119
The controversy over the Augsburg Interim finally destroyed the friendship between the two men and caused Melanchthon to reassess his earlier disputes with Agricola. Already shortly before the Smalcald War of 1547 Melanchthon had complained that some in Berlin did not like him or his writings.120 During the war itself, Agricola supported the emperor.121 However, the real rift appeared in the spring and summer of 1548 during negotiations at the Diet of Augsburg over the Augsburg Interim. After the emperor's stunning victory over the evangelical princes, the imperial diet had assembled in Augsburg, where Charles V was determined to correct the damage wrought by thirty years of evangelical reformation. Because the general council that had begun to meet in Trent had not yet progressed so far, the diet formulated an "interim agreement" (hence its nickname, Augsburg Interim) on matters of religion that, with the exceptions of communion in both kinds and the marriage of priests, reversed the practices and proclamation of the church in Germany to conform again with the Roman party's wishes.
While Agricola was one of the Interim's formulators and Joachim II of Brandenburg one of its chief defenders, Melanchthon had steadfastly counseled his new prince, the victorious Elector Maurice (an evangelical who had won the electorship of Saxony from John Frederick, his cousin, by siding with the emperor), against its acceptance, first on the grounds that it reintroduced the mass and later for its misunderstanding of justification. 122 After one of his sharpest memoranda found its way into print that same summer, Melanchthon was forced to defend himself to Maurice and stood in danger of remaining out of favor with the imperial court.123 Agricola attacked him publicly from the pulpit. 121 Even the republication of a portion of Agricola's sermons on Colossians from 1527 in which he had attacked the mass did not weaken his support for the Interim.125
Throughout the fall of 1548 Wittenberg's theologians continued to reject the Augsburg Interim; at the same time they kept working with officials at the elector's court to produce a church order that could preserve evangelical preaching and teaching without enraging the imperial forces. In negotiations with the newly appointed bishops, Julius Pflug of Naumburg and Johann VIII of Meigen, an agreement was reached in the matter of justification (the so-called Pegau formula) .116 Negotiations regarding the mass dragged on through the fall, with Melanchthon and his colleagues willing to make concessions only on practices they regarded as neutral, adiaphora. In mid-December the electors of Brandenburg and Saxony met in Juterbog to formulate a common church order for their two lands. That formula, based for the most part on the "Zellische Abschied" penned by Melanchthon, was to present a united front to the emperor.127 Even here the question of the mass loomed large.128
Agricola seized upon this agreement and attempted to use it in an effort to bring into line the evangelical clergy of Berlin, including George Buchholzer, formulator of the original evangelical church order for Brandenburg (1540). After receiving a copy of the agreement in late December 1548, Agricola called a special worship service at which he read it aloud from the pulpit and proclaimed that it proved that Saxony's elector and theologians had finally agreed to the Augsburg (!) Interim. He took the agreement's general statement about adiaphora to include all practices of the old church and insisted that the church order of 1540 had been effectively overturned.129
Buchholzer's urgent letter to Melanchthon describing Agricola's behavior marked the earliest public questioning of adiaphora among the evangelicals and began the protracted controversy over the so-called Leipzig Interim, the text of which matched the agreement reached in Juterbog.130 This letter indicated that the final break between Melanchthon and Agricola had occurred. Their correspondence, interrupted by the war in 1546, never resumed.131 Melanchthon had nothing more good to say about Agricola. For example, in 1549 he drew a parallel between his struggles over the Leipzig Interim and the dispute over the Visitation Articles. As Agricola once had raised a hue and cry over returning to Rome, now others were doing the same:
But Melanchthon did more than just draw parallels to earlier times; he blamed the earlier controversies with Agricola for his present problems. Thus, in 1556, in the midst of the Majorist controversy over the necessity of good works, he blamed the antinomian controversy of some twenty years earlier for the new dispute. Agricola with his claim that "das Mug ist versalzen (the must/mash [of the law] is oversalted)" had driven Melanchthon to take the stand he was now defending.133 To no less an opponent than Matthias Flacius he wrote: "But concerning necessity, I confess that the furies of the antinomians attacked me twenty years ago when a court preacher, to the applause of the entire audience, said, `Das Mug ist versalzen.' And how I say that these propositions are true and eternal, I have explained enough." 131
In the Osiandrian controversy Melanchthon also recalled Agricola's calumnies. To Andreas Musculus, Agricola's brother-in-law, Melanchthon complained that a book presumably written by Agricola was filled with stylistic flaws and a misuse of the ancient church fathers.135 To Eberhard Schnepf he complained, "I could write you a long Iliad concerning [Agricola's] calumnies." 136
"So that afterwards others often attacked me." The intervening twenty-five years with their disruptive struggles against Agricola finally brought Melanchthon to the conclusion that the controversy over the Visitation Articles served as the headwaters for the flood that followed. However Melanchthon may have fared in the later disputes, his position opposing Agricola's understanding of the law won widespread acceptance among Lutherans. Melanchthon's notions of the eternal lawalways ordering, always accusing, always instructing-and of the movement in the Christian life from law to gospel carried the day.
Nowhere is Melanchthon's victory more clearly depicted than in the church architecture of the time. In 1605 the capital city in the duchy of Braunschweig-Wolfenbuttel set about to build a new evangelical Marienkirche to replace the medieval edifice destroyed in a fire. The sculpture inside and out attest to the central tenets of orthodox Lutheranism as Melanchthon first formulated it. Guarding either side of the main entrance stand massive statues of Moses and Aaron. Above them hover heroes of the ducal family and a reigning Christ. Inside the sanctuary itself, the largest, most imposing figure in the nave is not Mary, reduced to a single portrait on the side wall, nor Christ, whose triumph is displayed in the gilded, foreign-made altar in the apse, but Moses, whose larger-than-life figure bearing the two tablets of the law forms the single pillar holding up the pulpit and represents with unmistakable clarity the centrality of the law.138 Along the sides of the stairs up to and around the pulpit itself small panels, decipherable only by the keeneyed observer, depict the Apostles' Creed. Thus the pulpit moves the listener visually through the catechism from commandments to creed, from law to gospel. The enthusiastic, lawless preaching of Agricola finds no expression here. The gospel and its joys rest firmly upon the unceasing demands and terrors of the law. The Christian moves from fear to faith, not the other way around. At least in Wolfenbuttel even the stones and wood declare Melanchthon's victory in this dispute.
Justifying Good Work:
The Origins of the Concept
of the Third Use of the Law (1534)
In 1534 Philip Melanchthon, perhaps in conjunction with lectures on Colossians delivered around this time, produced a third edition of the Scholia. In it, for the first time, he increased the number of functions, or uses, of the law from two to three. This chapter will examine the exegetical and theological causes for this shift in Melanchthon's understanding of the law.
The origins of the 1534 Scholia are shrouded in mystery. Sometime that year a new edition came off Joseph Klug's press in Wittenberg. Could the unauthorized reprinting of the second edition in August 1534 by John Setzer's successor in Haguenau have provoked Melanchthon into providing his own printer with a new version? Or, alternatively, could a new edition by Melanchthon have caused the Haguenau printer to try to gain a piece of the market? Perhaps Melanchthon simply lectured again on Colossians and made changes to his commentary to reflect alterations in his lectures.
The changes wrought on the 1528 edition in 1534 were small in comparison to the massive changes made in 1528 to the original edition. In only eleven places did Melanchthon greatly revise his comments, and even these revisions rarely amounted to more than a page of additional text. For the most part Melanchthon seemed content with the version from six years earlier. On the other hand, the fact that most of the alterations focused on various facets of one topic, justification, is clear indication that a dramatic shift had taken place in Melanchthon's understanding of that doctrine-dramatic enough to force revision in his old commentary along some surprising new lines.
The 1534 edition of the Scholia represented an important transition in Melanchthon's understanding of justification, connecting his work in the Apology of the Augsburg Confession (1531), his Romans commentary (1532), and lectures on the Loci (1533) on the one side, with the second edition of the Loci from 1535 and the contemporaneous controversy with Conrad Cordatus on the other. In addition to the first definition of the three uses of the law, it was in the Scholia of 1534 that Melanchthon argued most clearly for the necessity of good works in the believer's life. And here the forensic nature of justification became the bedrock for his explanation of that doctrine. Much of the doctrinal language used in many of the controversies that involved Melanchthon or his students and rocked Lutheranism after Luther's death also made its first appearance in the 1534 Scholia.' Whereas most scholars are aware of the changes to the Loci in 1535, and some have examined Melanchthon's commentary on Romans (1532), no one outside of Hans-Georg Geyer has thought to use the Scholia.2
By employing the Scholia of 1534 not only can comparisons be made to earlier and later books and lectures, but the Scholia of 1528 can serve as a benchmark showing exactly where Melanchthon's theology had changed in the intervening six years and where he felt the need to make corrections. In intellectual history it is tempting to place unrelated documents of a single author side by side and guess what the differences between them may mean. Here Melanchthon was changing his own text, the Scholia of 1528. This allows the historian a unique opportunity for tracing through a single text actual changes in a thinker's vocabulary and theology. Once these alterations have been identified, an intriguing question remains: why might Melanchthon have made such modifications? The answer to this question will arise from examination of Melanchthon's method and his earliest conversations with some moderate Roman opponents around the time the Scholia appeared. Our investigation will uncover both the origins of his new language on justification and works and its impact upon a thinker to whom theological definitions offered doctrinal certainty for faith. The answer to the question will also underscore the continuing importance of Agricola's theology for Melanchthon, especially in the related controversy with Conrad Cordatus over the necessity of works, a controversy that served as a prelude to the antinomian controversy between Agricola and Luther of 1537-40.
Forensic Justification
Melanchthon here expressed all aspects of this new teaching. Justification is a matter of pronouncement, not a matter of an inner change of virtues, or, as he put it, it is to be understood not "proprie" but "relative." It is directly connected to the actions "in foro," in the court of law, as the example of Scipio indicates. It is a matter of divine acceptation.
This emphasis was not altogether lacking from earlier statements, and some would argue that forensic justification was the hallmark of Melanchthon's theology throughout his career.5 However, there is no question that in the commentary on Romans the definition of justifica tion was considerably narrower than in earlier works and explicitly eliminated any internal change in the person. Virtue was now completely excluded from the definition. Even the Apology lacked this clarity. There, as Melanchthon explained to the Swabian Reformer, Johannes Brenz, in a letter written at nearly the time of publication, he was inhibited by his adversaries and, perhaps, by his need in that context not to attack Augustine's notion that we are reputed righteous on account of the fulfillment of the law effected in us by the Holy Spirit.' Thus, in one part of the Apology he wrote that in James "to be justified does not mean to be made righteous from having been ungodly, but, as in the forensic use, to be pronounced righteous."7 But in another passage he still held that "we are justified by faith alone, where justification must be understood as being made righteous or being regenerated."8 Brenz's letter at the time the Apology was being published alerted Melanchthon to the danger of Augustine's (and Brenz's) misinterpretation of justification and led him to stress our acceptation by Christ: "Therefore we are righteous by faith alone, not because it is the root [of our own righteousness], as you write, but because it apprehends Christ, on account of whom we are accepted."9 Brenz's position was rejected not only implicitly in the argumentum to the commentary on Romans, but also explicitly in comments on Romans 3:21 f.: "The fancy of others, who think we are justified by faith because faith is the beginning of renovation, must be rejected. "to
The Scholia of 1534 also reflected the new clarity and precision. Throughout the work Melanchthon scattered formulas similar to those in the 1532 Romans commentary. His comments on Colossians 1:23 were typical. In 1527 Melanchthon glossed the text ("You have been re deemed if you remain firm in faith") by writing simply, "You have obtained remission of sins, if you believe your sins have been forgiven because of Christ," and by referring the reader to Romans 3:28 and the Scholia's later discussion of the two kinds of righteousness." In 1528 an entire paragraph was added, beginning, "None of our works merit justification before God."12 Saint Anthony and Saint Martin were not justified by their good works, but by faith. When God judges and terrifies our hearts, then we realize that we are not able to please God by our works, but depend on the grace promised through Christ. This is the chief teaching of the gospel which gives great consolation. Without it, no one can stand before God. 'I
In 1534 Melanchthon excised the paragraph from 1528, though not the original material from 1527, and replaced it with a two-page excursus on justification. The opening sentence made Melanchthon's concerns clear: "Let us talk briefly concerning justification so that it can be understood how works and how faith are required. 1114 Here the balance between faith and works (also a concern in the Augsburg Confession [VI, XX]) had become the center of attention. Immediately Melanchthon worried about license: "For faith is not praised in order that the license of omitting works may be granted, since faith itself is the chief or most difficult work."15 (Brenz, too, had made the point that according to John 6 faith is a work.)16 The opponents here were of two kinds. On the one side, the references to works and license pointed to Melanchthon's continuing concern over antinomianism. On the other, he also had to defend himself against this very charge of license made by Roman opponents.
Agricola's position was still in the back of Melanchthon's mind when he insisted that contrition ("pavor & dolor conscientiae") is a necessary first step in conversion. Faith, defined here as trust (fiducia), then follows, establishing that "our sins are forgiven and we are pronounced righteous through mercy on account of Christ, not on account of the worthiness of our contrition or works."17 Were all of this to depend upon our contrition, the conscience would again become uncertain.
Melanchthon's comments on Colossians 2:1Oa ("And in him you are brought to perfection [consummati]") similarly reflected the complexity of the transformation in his language on justification. In 1527 he treated this passage as a "basis and definition of Christian righteousness." 19 As grace-centered as the definition might have been, there was still no clear distinction between intrinsic and extrinsic righteousness. Christian righteousness is what pleases God. God is not pleased with human works, only with Christ. Thus, those are brought to perfection ("consummati") who believe in Christ and are sanctified by Christ through the Holy Spirit. This second phrase forced Melanchthon to discuss the role of the Holy Spirit in mortifying the flesh and making us new creatures ("perfect, renewed, made new creatures by the reception of the Holy Spirit").20 Reason and free will cannot change the heart in this way. Melanchthon did not distinguish clearly between Christ's satisfaction of the Father and the renewal of the Holy Spirit. They were two aspects of the same thing.
In 1528 Melanchthon revised and expanded his comments.21 He replaced the reference to free will with a reference to reason's powers. The two parts of justification remained, but he greatly expanded the first part, discussing Psalm 143:2 ("No living thing will be justified in his sight"; cf. Rom. 3:20). Even Paul's good works, which Melanchthon enumerated, did not justify him, as the apostle himself confessed in 1 Corinthians 4:4 and Philippians 3:9. Instead, what makes us "consummati" is the righteousness of faith, which believes that we are pleasing to the Father because of Christ. Here Melanchthon referred to Psalm 32:1. Without Christ as the mediator who satisfies God's wrath, the frightened conscience has no safe haven, must rely on its works, and is driven to despair. Since the Father pronounces us ("pronunciet nos") brought to perfection ("consummati"), it would be blasphemy to leave that perfection and to take our perfection and justification from our works. In these comments the Father's "pronouncement" defined justification, but the consequences of its forensic character had not yet been clarified.
Having made such a strong case for the Reformation's chief doctrine, Melanchthon added a paragraph in 1528 warning that such faith is not lazy or devoid of good works. Believers who understand Christ's consolation and forgiveness ask God to rule them, are transformed by the Holy Spirit, and grow to hate sin. Melanchthon was convinced that this was the teaching of John and Paul.
At the end of the entire section Melanchthon broke off his exegesis to explain to the readers why he once again had discussed this topic. The text of Paul (Col. 2:1 Oa) drove him to it. He wished to expound on Paul's idea "simplicissime."22 Scholastic theologians neither taught the righteousness of faith nor understood the distinction between philosophical and Christian righteousness. Thus Melanchthon was forced to refute their pernicious errors so that the "summa Christianae doctrinae" might not be obscured.
By 1534 Melanchthon's comments on this verse no longer satisfied him, and he replaced them with a completely new exposition. Now Melanchthon interpreted this text in antithesis to civil righteousness, Jewish ceremonies, and monastic traditions. Paul argues that only "on account of Christ (propter Christum)" do his readers receive the benefit of "being reputed as righteous, as if you had satisfied the law."23 Here Melanchthon emphasized the forensic nature of justification ("reputemini") and its relation to the accusing law ("ac si satisfaceretis legi").
Melanchthon proceeded to make three points. The first and longest reiterated the forensic nature of justification 24 "The conscience ought to stand on this, that we are pronounced righteous freely on account of Christ, although we have not yet satisfied the law."25 As in 1528, Melanchthon referred to Psalm 32:1, but now it became the centerpiece of his discussion. He paraphrased it to mean that the saints have sins, but they are pronounced righteous by God's mercy. This is "the fullest consolation" for those who see their sin through the law. Despite the remnants of sin within themselves, they are commanded here to look outside themselves to Christ for their righteousness.
Although here and elsewhere Melanchthon insisted that "the renewal and righteousness of a good conscience" are also necessary, nevertheless his emphasis was on the righteousness of faith 26 God is pleased with the obedience of faith, as if we had fulfilled the law. In defense of this statement Melanchthon misquoted Romans 10:4 ("Christ is the summation of the law for the righteousness of every believer [Summa legis Christus est ad iusticiam omni credenti]") and glossed it to read, "The one who trusts in Christ is already righteous and has what the law requires; the law does not accuse or condemn such a person."27 The believer's works please God as if they satisfied the law, although in reality they do not.
Melanchthon then summarized what he characterized as a clear and very simple teaching:
Here Melanchthon expressed his mature understanding of justification. Faith in God's being pleased "gratis propter Christum" (the first righteousness) was necessary for the righteousness of a good conscience (the second righteousness). But the impurity of this second righteousness, as described in the Bible itself, forced Melanchthon back to faith, so that even good works depended on Christ's acceptation. Melanchthon's enemy here was not so much Agricola as the Scholastics-one thinks of the authors of the Confutatio-who attacked the Lutherans for ignoring good works and turned justification on its head by making God's pronouncement of righteousness depend upon one's own worth and fulfillment of the law's demands. This obscures Christ's blessing and leads to despair. That is, the effect of this "gospel" proves that it is not good news at all.
Melanchthon's response to Scholastic theology, however, did not include elimination of the law as a result of justification. Because of God's forensic proclamation of righteousness, the law no longer accused; because of the remnant of sin in us, the law could not be fulfilled (no "simul" here!); but it did not disappear. The law had become the measure of righteousness in a good conscience; faith was now clinging to the only one in whom the law culminated (summa legis!), Jesus Christ. There was now a necessity for both faith and works, but, given human weakness, faith dominated and provided the conscience the only way out from under the law's accusation. Thus, forensic justification, far from eliminating the law from Melanchthon's theology, had actually increased its significance.29 The purpose of emphasizing the divine decree of righteousness and even the necessity of the righteousness of a good conscience was to underscore the centrality of God's grace outside of us that works (imperfectly because of sin) inside us.30 Later, Melanchthon's students upset this delicate balance and took individual parts of this equation separately, thereby undermining Melanchthon's stated intent and emphasizing law to the exclusion of grace.
The Necessity of Good Works
The most dramatic change in Melanchthon's 1534 Scholia on Colossians occurred in his understanding of the law and good works. It involved persistent emphasis on the necessity of good works. In comments on Colossians 1:23 Melanchthon insisted, "In conversion some contrition is necessary, that is, terror and sorrow of the conscience are necessary."31 Later in the same passage he wrote, "Now the new life ought to be obedience to God, and now the righteousness of good works is necessary."32 To underscore his point he added, "Therefore good works are not disapproved but are greatly required." In comments on Colossians 2:10a the same note was sounded: "Thereupon we say that the righteousness of a good conscience is necessary."33
This theme recurred in comments on Colossians 2:17. Whereas in 1527 only justification by faith was mentioned,34 already in 1528 Melanchthon began to respond to Agricola's questioning of the necessity of the law: "Why then, you ask, is it necessary to observe the law?"35 But Melanchthon then attacked "our theologians" (he meant his Roman opponents and Erasmus) who made both Christ and Moses lawgivers. He also pointed to the example of David, justified by faith not by works. Here he was willing to admit that "there ought to be some exercise of faith in this life."36 He concluded from the entire disputation in Romans, however, "that moral works do not justify."37 Were Paul wrong, Christ would have died in vain. At this juncture any discussion of necessity had to do with faith: "When the promise was made, it was necessary that faith justify, because the promises are received by faith not works."38 Only at the close of his remarks in 1528 did Melanchthon deal with the question "why the works of the Decalog are demanded if they do not justify."39 While referring readers to his later discussion, where he took issue with Agricola's formulations (see pp. 164-67), here Melanchthon stated that the Decalog, unlike human rites and traditions, pertained to the heart's purity. Nevertheless, he stressed that it was faith that actually purified the heart and then bore the fruit of obedience.
In 1534 Melanchthon preserved all of his 1528 comments on Colossians 2:17. However, he inserted three pages of commentary dealing with the question "whether people are pronounced righteous on ac count of the moral code [=the Decalog]."40 He divided his answer into two parts. First, the ungodly, who have not been reborn in Christ, cannot offer the perfect obedience demanded by the law, although they can produce some civil works from the powers of human nature. Second, those reborn ought to know that only by faith do we receive forgiveness of sins. Fulfillment of the law is not a prior condition for us, lest the conscience again become uncertain. The law demands perfect obedience, which because of the "remnants of sin" even those declared righteous cannot fulfill. Having said this, however, Melanchthon insisted that "the righteousness of a good conscience or of good works ought to accompany faith."41 He immediately added that this righteousness of a good conscience does not satisfy the law perfectly and that the person is reconciled to God on account of Christ. Nevertheless, this second righteousness pleases God despite its imperfection precisely because the person is in Christ. Melanchthon declared this a "great and necessary consolation for the godly."42 Once again, however, he would make it clear that faith is preeminent: "The righteousness of a good conscience is necessary, as I have said. However, faith or trust in Christ has been placed far above this righteousness of ours."43
Here, as in his comments on the previous two verses of Colossians, Melanchthon steered a course between the (to him unfair) charge that Lutherans neglected good works and the theology of his Roman opponents, who insisted that people are made righteous before God because of their own worth or their own fulfillment of the law. There were in Melanchthon's view two necessary kinds of righteousness for the Christian. The one arises from faith, or trust, that clings to the external pronouncement of righteousness, that is, satisfaction of the law, on account of Christ. The other arises from the good conscience (good on account of Christ through faith). Good works are pleasing to God and acceptable not because they are perfect, as the law demands, but because the person is in Christ.
The law did not disappear in Melanchthon's eyes, although for the bona conscientia its accusation had. The necessity of works also did not disappear, although the reason for it had changed. For Melanchthon there was no longer a necessity to satisfy the law's demands, but the necessity of faith's own internal, imperfect obedience. Realizing the im perfection of works, the believer returns to faith "that on account of Christ the person freely pleases [God]," and thus the conscience remains free from the terrors of sin and death.44 This third necessity, the "necessaria consolatio," explains the peculiar tension in Melanchthon's discussion. Melanchthon wanted desperately both to defend the Reformers from the charge that they denied the necessity of good works and at the same time to avoid robbing the conscience of the gospel's consolation. So he devised a way to speak of the necessity of works for the believer by excluding their necessity for justification.
Melanchthon returned to this dilemma in his introductory comments to Colossians 3 and 4, completely rewritten in 1534 45 Good works, the topic of these chapters, form the second part of Christian doctrine, the first part being Christ's benefits.46 In a curiously unbalanced structure, Melanchthon emphasized first that it is necessary to know ("necesse est scire") how we receive remission of sins (it is given on account of Christ and received by faith). Next, it is necessary to obey the law of God.47 Because of our weakness, however, our obedience is imperfect. Thus it is necessary to know ("necesse est scire") how this obedience pleases God. It does not please God because it satisfies the law-indeed, it cannot-but because "the person has been reconciled and is just by faith."48 This obedience now pleases God and becomes a kind of righteousness, it ought to be added, "not because it satisfies the law, but because we have been made sons."49
This doctrine was for Melanchthon "an enormous mercy." God approves our obedience despite its distance from the perfection of the law and views it as if it had real integrity! Melanchthon concluded with a flourish: "What human words can explain this blessing satisfacto- rily?"50 Melanchthon felt he had to instruct his readers about the doctrine of good works, so that they would understand how obedience is pleasing to God in spite of weakness, and so that they would keep in mind that the person is righteous "by faith on account of Christ" and that obedience is pleasing to God "propter Christum."51 In this way the conscience would have "firma consolatio." Melanchthon referred the reader to Romans 6:14 and 8:1 and discussed briefly the meaning of being not "under law" but "under grace." He concluded that the fact that our works are accepted "propter Christum" ought to exhort us to good works. Otherwise we would be deterred from good works by despair, unsure of whether God approves of our love or not. Furthermore, the consolation that God's mercy is so powerful that it approves our imperfect obedience should arouse us to good works. We are thus filled with thanks and obey God, knowing that our pious efforts are approved by him.
Again, Melanchthon tried to ground his discussion of good works in the consolation of God's mercy. However, he wanted to do this without compromising the necessity of good works. The very order of his argument-from the necessity of knowing how we are forgiven, to the necessity of obeying the law, to the necessity of knowing how this obedience pleases God-placed the law and obedience to it squarely at the center of Melanchthon's theology. Not death and resurrection or even repentance and faith, but knowing (that we are declared righteous and that our imperfect works are accepted) and obeying (the law) had become the centerpiece of his theology. Not that Melanchthon did not speak of the necessity of good works in earlier versions of the Scholia. Already in the 1527 introduction to chapters 3 and 4 he wrote, "It is necessary that such actions and moral behavior as God demands follow."52 But this was in no sense his central concern. By 1534, however, the necessity of good works had taken over and dominated his discussion of justification.
This turn in Melanchthon's theology was foreshadowed in the Augsburg Confession. Article XX, completed after his arrival in Augsburg, contained this comment in the Latin version: "For this reason our people teach that it is necessary to do good works, not that we trust that through them we merit grace, but on account of God's will."53 In the Apology Melanchthon stated, "However, it is indeed necessary to do good works."54 Here the attacks by the Confutatio and perhaps by Johannes Mensing in his "Bescheid, ob der Glaube allein, ohne alle gute Werke dem Menschen genug sei zur Seligkeit" weighed on his mind 55 Yet here, immediately prior to his strict redefinition of justification in forensic terms, Melanchthon still spoke only of regeneration, of growing in faith, and of the results of justification. The language of obedience to the law played no role in the discussion.
In the commentary on Romans from 1532, however, in part of an excursus on Romans 6:14 entitled "On the Abrogation of the Law," Melanchthon did use much of the same language found in the 1534 Scholia.56 After first eliminating civil righteousness from the discussion (the gospel does not corrupt the good of nature, but heals it), Melanchthon defined abrogation of the law in terms of forensic justification. Remission of sin comes on account of Christ, not on account of the law, which chiefly condemns us. To be free from the law means to be free from its curse and condemnation. After being reconciled to God, "we please God on account of Christ, not on account of fulfillment of the law, because those who have been renewed do not satisfy the law."57 This theme was sounded again and again in 1534. We are incapable, even as "renovati," of fulfilling the law. In all our prayers and deeds we have the consolation and confidence that, despite our unworthiness, we are pleasing to God on account of Christ. Melanchthon distinguished between the person accepted by mercy and the good works which we do out of obedience. We are free from the Decalog as far as justification goes, but not as far as obedience. The moral law remains written in our hearts.58 He concluded with a description of the consolation that God's acceptance of us and our works on account of Christ brings. We avoid misery only when we learn that our persons are accepted by trust in Christ ("fiducia Christi") and that our works and afflictions please God only "after the person pleases him."59 This acceptance actually helps us continue doing good and prevents our giving up in despair.
Clearly, much of what Melanchthon said in 1534 he had already formulated in 1532. As Melanchthon reviewed the Scholia in the light of his sharper understanding of justification, he now saw that his 1528 comments on the law were out-of-date. Yet even between 1532 and 1534 there was some movement. By 1534 the law itself dominated the discussion. There was consolation less from the gospel itself and more from the knowledge of doctrine. One almost detects a double imputation of righteousness here: one for the ungodly and the other for the works of the good conscience. Both were accounted as righteous "propter Christum," with the startling result that the obedience of the human being (not simply the work of the Holy Spirit) and the demand of the law (not simply the declaration of the gospel) had become the foci around which the Christian life now revolved for Melanchthon.
The Third Use of the Law
Nowhere was the shift toward a law-centered theology more clearly evident than in Melanchthon's discussion of the uses of the law. The notion that the law has uses or functions is a peculiarly Protestant concept with origins deep within Martin Luther's theology. Gerhard Ebeling has demonstrated how the distinction between law and gospel and Luther's insistence that God works on human beings through the Word resulted in Luther's developing a twofold use of the law. 0 First, God uses the law in this world to restrain the wicked and maintain order in creation. This "civil use of the law" is closely connected to the "kingdom on the left" and God's governance in this world. Second, God uses the law to terrify the conscience, reveal sin, and put to death the old creature by driving it to Christ. This "theological use of the law" was associated in Luther's mind with Paul's statements about the law in Romans 3:20.
Luther did not come to this understanding of the law's twofold use overnight. In his 1520 tract "Von der Freiheit eines Christenmenschen," he focused only on what Lutherans later called the second use of the law.61 In "De votis monasticis" (1521) Luther spoke for the first time of an "officium legis," but again only to show sin.62 Definitions of two uses of the law first appeared in an exposition of the epistle lesson for New Year's Day; this sermon was published in 1522 as part of Luther's Weih- nachtspostil and seen through the presses by Melanchthon.63
In the first edition of the Loci communes theologici (1521) Melanchthon connected his favorite Aristotelian dialectical categories ("quid sit" and "quid effectus") to Luther's insight into the working of the Word. First he defined what the law and the gospel were and then investigated their power or effect.64 At this time, however, following Luther's direction in "Von der Freiheit eines Christenmenschen," Melanchthon described only a single use of the law: to terrify the heart by revealing its sin.65
From Melanchthon's 1524 tract dedicated to Philip of Hesse, "Epitome renovatae ecclesiasticae doctrinae," we can infer two uses of the law." We can do so only because the tract had two main divisions: iustitia christiana and iustitia humana. Under the first he discussed repentance and faith (=[the second use of the] law and gospel). Under the second he talked of a pedagogical use of the law for the ungodly, who must be coerced into doing right. Following Luther's sermon on the epistle for New Year's Day, he used Galatians 3:24 as a proof text for the latter. As long as Melanchthon organized his thinking along the lines of human and divine righteousness, however, there was no reason to count the uses of the law. Only when the law itself became a separate topic (locus communis) did various uses need to be counted.
Luther never saw a need to increase the uses of the law above two and thus create a separate use for believers. In his Galatians commentary of 1535 and in the Smalcald Articles of 1537 Luther continued to count two uses: the political and theological.67 The modern debate over whether Luther in fact (if not in name) taught a third use of the law reflects later Lutheran controversies and historians' inability to understand the center of his theology.68 For Luther, the human being encountered the law in the two realms of human existence: coram Deo and coram hominibus. Thus, there was never any need for more than two uses of the law. In his theology the law never had an independent exist ence that demanded definition, but it was always a part of the human encounter with God.
The 1527 and 1528 Scholia were the first publications in which Melanchthon explicitly defined two functions of the law.69 The text of Colossians 2:16-17 reads, "Let no one judge you in matters of food or drink or in the distinction of feast days, new moons, or sabbaths, which are a shadow of future things. The body is Christ's." The entire exegetical tradition understood the first part of this text as referring to Mosaic laws. Melanchthon, aware of this tradition, distanced himself from it in comments on the phrase "which are a shadow of future things":
The "they" in this text was in fact Erasmus (relying on Origen and Theophylact), who argued that the point of Colossians was first to defend Christ's two natures and second to demonstrate that Mosaic ceremonies were no longer necessary for the Christian. In the context of this passage Erasmus distinguished the Old and New Testaments in terms of shadow and reality (or type and fulfillment). This distinction touched only the ceremonial, not the moral law.
In contrast, Melanchthon insisted that the phrase "shadow of future things" referred to the whole law: "That is, the whole law was given, not to justify, but to signify justification, which was promised through Christ."71 For him, the Mosaic ceremonies never justified. Thus David and Samuel were justified not by performing ceremonies, but by believing in the justification promised through Christ. Christ, therefore, is the end of the whole law, not just the ceremonies.
Underneath Erasmus's (and Origen's) approach, which related individual ceremonies to later historical events, Melanchthon smelled dangerous allegories that "did not help consciences." 72 Instead, laws and ceremonies were needed because God had chosen the Jews to be a special people who would bear his Word and among whom Christ would be born. Through laws this physical kingdom, distinguished from all other nations, was maintained until the advent of Christ. "A political entity can hardly exist without many laws."73
Here, drawing heavily upon Luther's exposition of Galatians 3 in the sermon on the epistle for New Year's Day, Melanchthon set forth his position. First, God wanted the law to coerce the "carnal human being" (1 Tim. 1:9 and Gal. 3:24). This was his reason for giving laws to the Israelites and to all people: "For this reason God gives magistrates and laws to the nations."75 The second office of the law is "to inspire terror, to condemn and to humble, so that we may realize that we are sinners and may be driven to seek grace and justification through Christ."76 Here the proof texts included Romans 3:20 and 11:32. Nevertheless, Melanchthon concluded, the law did not only condemn "but also reminded of the promises concerning Christ."77 He summarized his remarks by suggesting that any discussion of the law of Moses would be enhanced by teaching that God gave the law for two reasons, "to coerce the flesh and to terrify or humble."78
In comments added in 1528 on the rest of Colossians 2:17 ("the body is Christ's"), Melanchthon continued to hammer away at the same points. Christ was not a lawgiver like Moses. David was justified not by works but, as he had stated in Psalm 32, by faith and the nonimputation of sin. To be sure, this faith brought forth obedience: "For there ought to be some exercise of faith in this life."79 Nevertheless, the law was given not because it justifies, but because God wanted to separate a certain politeia from the nations. At this point Melanchthon warned the readers specifically against Origen and others (=Erasmus) who imagine that the Decalog "or, as they say, opera moralia" justify.80 Paul's arguments in Romans show clearly that "opera moralia" do not justify.
In the late 1520s, then, Melanchthon, as part of a struggle against Erasmus over how to interpret the biblical text in light of justification by faith alone, defined the two uses of the law. For Melanchthon, as for Luther, the Old Testament was no longer simply a shadow cast by future events, and Paul's understanding of Christ as the end of the law could not be reduced to a change in ceremonies. Instead, God used the law to maintain the order and particularity of the Israelites until the coming of Christ, to terrify the sinner, and, as a result of both these functions, to remind us of the promise of Christ.
To answer an opponent who used suspect exegesis to support an emphasis on works and undermined justification by faith alone, two uses of the law sufficed for Melanchthon. Under what circumstances, then, did Melanchthon need a third use? Here modern scholarship has sometimes charged Melanchthon with caving in to his opponents and abandoning Luther's theology,81 or else it has defended him by arguing that the third use of the law was implicit both in his earlier theology and in Luther's.82 These approaches overlook the historical moment in which Melanchthon himself switched from two to three uses of the law. By examining that moment, we gain a new perspective on this question.
The Romans commentary of 1532 still described two uses of the law: to restrain the flesh and to accuse the conscience.83 Unfortunately, fragments of the 1533 lectures on the Loci do not include discussion of the law's uses.84 In the 1534 Scholia, however, a clear shift has taken place. To be sure, the printer still included the marginal notation of the 1527 and 1528 editions on Colossians 2:17, "The law has two functions."85 But in the text Melanchthon now talked of three. In 1527 and 1528 he had written: "As much as the law may have carved out for Moses things that had to be interpreted, it would be just as useful to teach that God gave the law for these two reasons: to coerce the flesh and to terrify or humble."86 But in 1534 Melanchthon altered this section to read: "As much as the law may have carved out for Moses things that had to be interpreted, it would be just as useful to teach that God gave the law for these three reasons: to coerce the flesh and to terrify or humble. The third reason pertains to the righteous, that they may practice obedi- ence."87 To be sure, the technical terms officia and usus were not em- ployed.88 But Melanchthon's intent is clear. Moreover, the verbs used demonstrated an important break between the first two "causae" and the third. Whereas Melanchthon defined the first two in the passive ("cohercendam" and "terrendum seu humiliandum"), implying God's active use of the law on human beings, he shifted the third use to the work of the righteous ("exerceant").
Again the forensic nature of justification, as Melanchthon defined it, played a role here. The believer is declared righteous but is left with a remnant of sin. The law, rather than coming to its true end in the gospel, simply has lost its accusatory voice. Being written in the hearts of all, including believers, that law continues to reveal not only the remnants of sin, but the will of God and the contours of Christian obedience. The conscience, made good by God's gracious declaration, must by necessity use the law to please God. No wonder Melanchthon's theology now needed a third use of the law!
The complexities of this expansion in the law's functions appeared most clearly in Melanchthon's comments on Colossians 3:11 ("ubi non est Graecus et Iudaeus"), a text that already in 1527 he had associated with Christian liberty. By 1528 the six pages of the original comments had been expanded to twelve. In 1534 he rewrote two sections of the comments from 1528, cleverly introducing the third use of the law into his discussion and reaffirming the central role played by the law in Christian freedom.
In 1527 and 1528 Melanchthon had defined three different degrees (gradus) of Christian freedom. First, Christian freedom means freedom from sin and, for those who have the Holy Spirit ("who rules and governs hearts"), freedom from the power of the devil.89 Second, Christian freedom means that Christians are not bound to the civil and ceremonial laws of Moses, and hence are free to follow the law of their own land.90 The third level of Christian freedom is to know that human traditions neither condemn nor justify.91 In this context Melanchthon raised the question whether the Decalog had been abrogated. He divided the law into three parts (judicial, ceremonial, and moral) and argued that only the moral law, that is, the Decalog, applied universally. In 1527 he reviewed all the commandments, showed their general applicability, including their use in the New Testament, and concluded with references to natural law and to the two uses of the law.
In 1528 Melanchthon made several additions to the discussion. For one thing, against Agricola he stressed that the promises of God do not contradict the commands.92 For another, in a section added to attack the recent peasant rebellion, he insisted on obedience to imperial law as a mark of Christian freedom.93 Third, he defended his use of the threefold division of law by employing language reminiscent of his defense of the threefold division of poenitentia.94 Fourth, in his most extensive rewriting, which dealt with the question of the Decalog, he stressed (against Andreas Karlstadt and others) the efficacy of nonMosaic law in civil affairs. He also answered a second question, directed at Agricola, whether the Decalog no longer pertained to us because it was part of the political ordinances of Israel. Not only did he differentiate the Decalog from Mosaic ceremonial and political law, he also stressed much more clearly the way the Decalog reflected natural law, which was no more taken away by the gospel than was the sense of sight or hearing. This law always accuses, unless the accusation is taken away by faith in forgiveness of sins on account of Christ. Although the accusation is taken away, the notitia of this natural law remains and teaches the righteous, whose faith is not lazy, who continue to live a corporeal existence, and who are being sanctified by the Holy Spirit 95 As in 1527, to this discussion Melanchthon appended comments on the law's two uses. Despite Agricola's objections he still applied Galatians 3:24 as well as 1 Timothy 1:9 to the first use, even justifying his use of the term pedagogus.96
In 1534 Melanchthon reworked this material to include a new degree of Christian freedom and to discuss a third use of the law. First, he rewrote the introduction.97 The first degree of Christian freedom remained the same, although Melanchthon now stressed how it made the terrified conscience certain and gave it a "firma consolatio." He also mentioned the gift of the Holy Spirit as part of this first degree.
The second degree was completely new and corresponded to Melanchthon's other additions in the Scholia of 1534. The first sentence outlined the now familiar themes:
The complete absence of this degree in 1528 indicates that Melanchthon himself saw this material as new to his theology and as a crucial part of Christian freedom. In fact, Melanchthon then gathered together the familiar texts from Paul (Col. 2:1 Oa; Rom. 6:14; and Gal. 3:13) that in his mind proved that we are freed from the law's accusation but not from obedience to it. Clearly he had formed a new aspect of this locus communis on Christian freedom.
The third degree of Christian freedom became in 1534 what had been in 1527 and 1528 the second degree, namely, that believers are free from the ceremonial and judicial laws of Moses. Similarly, the third degree (the freedom to use human traditions) now became the fourth. To the objections raised by Agricola, which by 1528 had been placed between the second and third degrees, Melanchthon now tacked on a discussion of the third use of the law. He rewrote not only the material describing the first two uses of the law, but also his discussion of the end of the law's accusatio but not its notitia. He now tied the law's uses much more clearly to natural law: "However, the Decalog is retained as the summary of the law of nature for three reasons":99
The Bible passages for the first use of the Decalog ("on account of the unrighteous, so that they may be coerced") are reduced to one: 1 Timothy 1:9. Galatians 3:24 finally became a proof text for the second use of the law ("on account of the preaching ofpoenitentia"), corresponding to Luther's later interpretation of the verse and Agricola's wishes. Melanchthon's approach to this text, however, made it clear that the law was a "pedagogue" in both its first and second uses. The words "in Christum" allowed him to apply the verse to the law's second use.100 Melanchthon then discussed a third reason for retaining the Decalog, demonstrating the centrality of the law in his theology:
The law coerces (first use); the law terrifies (second use); the law requires obedience (third use). Again the third use stands apart from the others. Whereas the first two uses actually do something to the individual (coerce or accuse), the third use is relatively passive. The believer "is required" to do something, in this case, obey. Hence the third use of the law depends upon the obedience of the human being; the law is used not by God but by the believer.
The Reasons for Melanchthon's New Formulations
For what reasons did this shift occur in Melanchthon's theology? As Rolf Schafer and others have pointed out, Melanchthon's focus on the law and its third use actually had its roots in his earliest published theology. Comments made in earlier editions of the Scholia supported his later position: works were called necessary, an antinomian view was rejected, and the law was depicted as requiring obedience. But the very fact that Melanchthon somehow felt constrained to change these earlier comments to reflect even more clearly his developing position suggests that something must have happened in the meantime.
A crucial factor is the memory of Melanchthon's encounter with John Agricola. There is little doubt that Agricola's denigration of the Decalog-itself a reaction to Melanchthon's theology-caused Melanchthon to strengthen his defense of the role of the law in the Christian's life. It was no accident that in 1534 Melanchthon replaced polemic against Agricola's position on the law with a discussion of the necessity of good works and the third use of the law.103 It was also no accident that anonymous theses that circulated during the early phases of the antinomian controversy from 1537 to 1540, in which Agricola and Luther played leading roles, included an attack against Melanchthon.1o4
Melanchthon stressed good works and law for more immediate causes. Two events in Melanchthon's life in 1534 set the stage for his re writing of the Scholia, provided the language found there, and beyond that illumined the very nature of his theological method. First, early in 1534 Archbishop Albrecht of Mainz, to whom Melanchthon had dedicated his commentary on Romans (for which he received a monetary gift), attempted with the assistance of the elector of Saxony, John Frederick, to restart conversations between the Roman and Lutheran parties that had broken down at Augsburg. Melanchthon and Gregory Bruck were sent by the elector to Leipzig, where they held discussions with the archbishop's representatives: Michael Vehe, Christopher Tiirck, and Julius Pflug, who also represented Duke George of Saxony. They met in Leipzig's Paulinerkloster on 29-30 April 1534.
At the conclusion of the meetings, on the afternoon of 30 April, Melanchthon sent a detailed report to the elector, including a copy of the agreement on, among other things, the doctrine of justification. 105 Written by Vehe, it was agreed to by Melanchthon and Bruck with reservations. Justification, the document stated, is a matter of God's grace alone and is not merited by contrition, faith, love, or hope. This "Gottes- werk," whereby God justifies us, results first in faith, through which we believe in God who justifies us and cling to his Word and promise of grace. Through faith God effects love (so that we love righteousness and hate injustice) and hope (so that we trust God's mercy, and the frightened conscience receives comfort). Those who teach in this way can rightly say that faith alone justifies; they exclude all merit and confess that we are justified by grace and mercy alone.
The document then described good works:
Here was the very language Melanchthon would use in the Scholia of 1534. Good works must be done. This necessity is not a requisite for justification, which happens-one can hear the Latin here-"gratis propter Christum"; rather, it derives from faith itself and the righteous ness it receives. Here, too, the renewal of the Spirit and the death of the flesh are no longer simply ways to speak of justification, but have become part of the life of the justified.
But this meeting was not the only attempt at religious rapprochement during 1534. At nearly the same time, as part of his continuing struggle with Emperor Charles V, Francis I of France was attempting to build an alliance with the German evangelical princes against the emperor.107 For such an alliance to occur, the prior problem of religious division needed to be addressed. Guillaume du Bellay, brother of the bishop of Paris, Jean du Bellay, was dispatched to Germany, where he established contact with Martin Bucer and Melanchthon through an envoy, Ulrich Geiger, a Strasbourg physician. Du Bellay's conversation with Melanchthon in the summer of 1534 resulted in Melanchthon's composing a theological opinion covering many of the areas of dispute between Wittenberg and Rome.
Melanchthon sent his opinion to du Bellay at the beginning of August 1534.108 Among the topics covered was, of course, justification. Melanchthon made direct reference to the Leipzig discussion and the agreement reached there.109 He began by describing, in terms also employed in the Scholia of 1534, the Scholastic teachings rejected in Leipzig, namely "that human beings can satisfy the law of God; that they can merit forgiveness of sins by the worthiness of their works; that they are righteous, that is, accepted, on account of their own worthiness and fulfillment of the law."110
The agreement with the Scholia of 1534 went even further. Melanchthon divided the discussion of justification into two parts, remission of sins and the worth of good works. He stated that for the remission of sins "contrition and a change in behavior are necessary; nevertheless forgiveness does not occur on account of the worthiness of our contrition or works, but only on account of Christ by [God's] mercy, which is grasped by faith, that is, by faith in Christ."111 This formulation was followed almost word for word in the Scholia of 1534.112 While good works were not excluded, they clearly were not a certain and sufficient cause for remission of sins.
The second part of Melanchthon's discussion of justification, good works, also paralleled comments in the Scholia. He confidently proclaimed that all now concede that "human beings fall far short of the perfection of the law."113 More importantly, the better theologians among his adversaries also conceded "that human beings are chiefly righteous, that is, accepted, by faith (that is, by trust in the mercy promised on account of Christ), and that that beginning of [fulfilling] the law in us is pleasing not because it satisfies the law, but because the person has been reconciled in Christ."' 14 These two themes and the language used to express them call to mind the additions to the Scholia in 1534: acceptance by faith, which Melanchthon defines as trust in the mercy promised "propter Christum"; and works pleasing to God not because they satisfy the law, but because the person is reconciled in Christ. In the same place, Melanchthon noted that such an understanding of faith and works was necessary to fortify pious minds against despair, yet another point stressed in the Scholia. "I He also declared that "the righteousness of good works or of a good conscience is necessary." 116 The phrase "the righteousness of a good conscience" and the assertion that such works are necessary occur in the Scholia as well.
There were also some differences between the Scholia and Melanchthon's opinion sent to du Bellay. In the latter Melanchthon stressed that the Holy Spirit is given in the remission of sins, discussed mortification of the old creature and growth in faith, and even argued that the Holy Spirit does not remain in anyone who has committed a mortal sin. He also went as far as to assert that "free choice" aided by the Holy Spirit is active in guarding against such failings. 117 Even this final reintroduc tion of the "liberum arbitrium" into the doing of good works was not far from the one change made on this point in the 1534 Scholia: the human mind hears and does not reject the gospel.
The attempts at alliance with the evangelicals of Germany ended in failure for Francis I and his privy councilor, du Bellay. The Affair of the Placards, the change in popes (Clement VII-Paul III), and the shift in political alliances saw to that.11' Still, Melanchthon's opinion and its striking agreement with the revisions in the Scholia of 1534 elucidate some important aspects of his approach to theology. Georg Elliger and J. V. Pollet alike claim that Melanchthon's flexibility sprang from his humanist training and his relation to Erasmus. Elliger even describes the period of Melanchthon's life after the Diet of Augsburg until Luther's death as filled with such "Friedensbestrebungen," almost as if this were a kind of theological principle from which his opinions and activities arose. From such a position it is only a short distance to the charges of "Leisetreterei (treading softly)" that have been leveled in some analyses of Melanchthon's behavior.119
A more fruitful approach to Melanchthon's theology in the 1530s opens when we concentrate on his understanding of theological language itself. Throughout his career Melanchthon sought to use definition, that is, the dialectical question "Quid sit?" and subsequent fini- tiones, as the basis for theology. Proper definitions bring clarity and certainty to a topic. When the topic is theological in nature, such clarity and certainty become the basis for clear and certain faith. Without those attributes the uncertain conscience can never attain to the comfort and consolation of the gospel.
The confessional divisions in Europe, especially in their clarified form after the Diet of Augsburg in 1530, provided a perfect opportunity to use accurate definitions in the service of peace in the church. The process of arriving at such definitions was one of continual development, as theologians used the loci provided by the Scriptures to attain greater clarity. This development was, of course, hindered by the devil and sinful humanity; nevertheless, God's work in this world through language and logic and the fundamental clarity of his Word provided assurance that theological clarity was being attained. The mind-numbing regularity with which Melanchthon employed certain definitions at certain times in his life-one thinks of "gratis propter Christum per fidem"-shows how wedded he became to this method.
In this light, Melanchthon's encounters with moderate Romanists at Leipzig and from Paris provided test cases for the method upon which he had based the entire theological enterprise. When, in his opinion to du Bellay, Melanchthon described the Leipzig agreement with phrases such as "concerning many things there is convergence among the learned," "all confess," and "some good and prudent men would agree," 120 he was not simply patronizing the French, nor was he "treading lightly" as if the theological enterprise meant nothing to him.121 Instead the theological enterprise as he had defined it all along was at stake. Prudent people had to be able to arrive at clear definitions and thus preserve the comfort and effect of the gospel for the church. Otherwise the gospel itself was in jeopardy.122
In the case of justification, Melanchthon arrived at his definitions by way of a careful synthesis, a third way between the theology of merit proposed by the Scholastics-John Eck and the authors of the Con futa- tio among them-and the antinomianism of the likes of John Agricola. To eliminate absolutely every notion of merit from the definition of justification, even that of Augustine, Melanchthon narrowed his metaphors to one, the forensic declaration of forgiveness by God "gratis propter Christum." Now there could be no doubt that we are clothed in a righteousness outside ourselves. No merit and no works are involved; we are justified as a gift. The accusation of the law, which demands our righteousness, comes to an end.
However, this definition left Melanchthon and the Reformers open to the charge of antinomianism or libertinism. The charge that had dogged Lutherans from the beginning-that they had no place in their theology for good works-seemed even harder to defend against when insisting upon forensic justification. So while eliminating human works from God's declaration of righteousness, Melanchthon asserted that the law continues in terms of obedience. Here suddenly law and gospel merge into one command: obedience to God. For the totally disobedient conscience, there is justification "gratis propter Christum" that makes the conscience good. For the good conscience, in which still reside the remnants of sin and whose best works are still impure, there is nevertheless divine acceptation of flawed obedience because the person is in Christ. To inform the good conscience and encourage it to obedience, a third use of the law is necessary.
At the same time that forensic justification, as Melanchthon defined it, demands obedience, it also demands that the human being play an increased role in salvation. Because justification is an external declaration to be received in faith, the message itself no longer moves the individual to faith. Instead, the individual must hear and not reject it. Faith is much more the action of the individual over against both the promise of grace and the command to obey. Thus Melanchthon could speak about the individual's active participation in the process before and after justification. Melanchthon made these theological moves to hold what he considered a middle ground between a theology of merit, which claims that human beings earn salvation "ex puris naturalibus," and a theological determinism, in which the human being is oblivious to God's saving acts. This middle way led in the 1535 Loci to insistence that the Word, the Holy Spirit, and the human will are the three causes of salvation. In all of this, Melanchthon's single-minded concern for proper, clear distinctions and definitions in theology brought him to surprising new formulations.
The Effects of Melanchthon's New Formulations
Reaction to Scholastic theologians and memories of his dispute with Agricola, negotiations with open-minded theologians in Leipzig and opinions written for the French king all combined with Melanchthon's own theological predilection for definition to bring about striking changes in the Scholia of 1534. What effect did these new formulations have on his contemporaries? Did anyone notice?
The opinion sent to du Bellay resulted in Melanchthon's being invited to Paris. There was no question, too, that some of the changes in the Scholia-one thinks particularly of the third use of the law-were refined by Melanchthon in his second edition of the Loci and in turn employed by a young French exile, John Calvin, in the first edition of his Institutes of the Christian Religion.123 Melanchthon's understanding of the relation between justification and good works was also reflected in discussions with the Roman party at Regensburg in 1541.124
Perhaps the most notable reaction to Melanchthon's new positions on faith and works arose much closer to home, in the person of Conrad Cordatus (1476?-1546).125 Cordatus, a student at Wittenberg on and off from 1523, was pastor in the neighboring town of Niemegk. In 1532 he became the first to record Luther's table talk. He was accustomed to walking to Wittenberg in order to attend the lectures of a variety of theological professors. On 24 July 1536 he attended the lecture of a young professor of theology, Caspar Cruciger, Sr. (1504-48), at which he heard that good works were a "conditio sine qua non" for justification.
On 20 August in a now lost letter, which Cruciger never answered, and again on 8 September Cordatus wrote to Cruciger to complain of the lecture.126 Cruciger's response on 10 September 1536 pointed out that neither he nor anyone he knew ever said that "we are justified by our works as a causa sine qua non," but that instead we are justified by faith, Christ being the "causa propter quam."127 However, Cruciger continued, saying that we are justified "gratis" includes contrition, which in the one being justified is necessary as a "causa sine qua non." Finding this letter unacceptable, Cordatus wrote a third letter on 17 September and came to Wittenberg the same day in order to meet with Cruciger the next morning at 7 A.M.128 According to Cordatus's own account of the interview, Cruciger admitted that he was Melanchthon's disciple and that the lectures were Philip's.129 Although there was most likely something of an exaggeration in Cordatus's account, there can be no doubt that at this juncture Melanchthon, too, was implicated in the matter.
When Cruciger counseled that, before doing anything else, Cordatus should wait for Melanchthon's return to Wittenberg (he was in Tubingen to help with the reform of the university there), Cordatus instead stayed in Wittenberg an extra night and gained an audience with Luther the next day (19 September). According to Cordatus, Luther showed him a letter from Nicholas von Amsdorff that was dated 14 September and that referred to rumors that some were teaching the necessity of works for eternal life.l30 Luther claimed that if it came to a dispute he was ready, and, after looking up the meaning of "sine qua non" in Lombard and Occam, insisted that Melanchthon and Cruciger taught the concept most ineptly.131
After this meeting things simmered down for a brief time until, on 12 October 1536, Cordatus lodged an official complaint with Johann Bugenhagen, accusing both Cruciger and Melanchthon in this matter. He followed up with another foray into Wittenberg. On 22 October he heard Luther preach at vespers; on the next day he met with Bugenhagen; at 9 A.M. on the morning of 24 October he met with Luther, who was dean of the theological faculty. At that meeting he showed Luther the offending passages from Cruciger's lectures on 1 Timothy and "in Philip's second question on Colossians." 132 Here is evidence that Colossians was involved and that Melanchthon may have been lecturing on that book during this time. It is clear that the problem of the necessity of good works, which forms the basis of the additions to the Scholia, was at the heart of this dispute. Cordatus reported that Luther viewed the teaching of the necessity of good works as "the very theology of Erasmus."133 He also claimed that Luther vowed to investigate the matter with Melanchthon and to force Cruciger to make a public revocation. 134
As a result of Cordatus's complaint, Luther, as dean, must have written to Melanchthon on behalf of the theological faculty.135 When the latter returned to Wittenberg, he immediately wrote a letter answering Cordatus's charges.136 Melanchthon outlined the very shifts in his understanding of justification that we have discussed in detail. First, he insisted that he never taught anything different from what his colleagues taught. Second, he noted that when he realized that many understood justification by faith alone to be an infusion of gracethat is to say, he added, not by faith alone-then, starting in the Apology, he decided to be more clear by speaking of gratuitous imputation. "From this arises, as you know, questions: if we are accepted only by mercy, then to what purpose or how is the new obedience required?" 137 Here we have Melanchthon's own admission that the question of good works arose specifically out of his attempt to clarify the doctrine of justification. He argued that many had incorrect ideas about these matters; accordingly, for the young he took "an approach accommodated to teaching (via ad docendum accommodata)" that occasionally included "dialectical terminology (verba dialectica)."138 This was, of course, the heart of Melanchthon's theological method. He insisted that he did not praise works falsely and clearly denied that they merited eternal life. He also added that he was not so stupid as not to know what "sine qua non" meant. This concluded his formal defense.139
With this letter the dispute in effect came to an end. When, probably on the basis of this letter, Bugenhagen announced in a sermon preached on 8 November 1536 that the dispute was merely over words, Cordatus defended himself in a letter to Luther.140 By the time of his next letter to Luther, dated 6 December, he requested nothing more than a hearing on his complaints against Cruciger.141 A week later, in a letter to Luther that was never sent, Cordatus stated that he would be appealing his case directly to the rector, Justus Jonas, and, should that fail, to the elector himself.142 In fact, Cordatus did appeal to the rector of the university, who met with him in private on 17 December and insisted that he stop all action against Cruciger and Melanchthon. In a letter to Jonas dated 31 December, a chastened Cordatus agreed to end his attacks on Melanchthon.143 The dispute with Cruciger stopped altogether when Cordatus took a call to Eisleben to replace John Agricola, and when Luther finally addressed the issue in a public dispute in June 1537. There he agreed with Bugenhagen's earlier sermon that it had been a fight over words, but he also insisted that language like "con- ditio sine qua non" was not always helpful to the untrained. By this time, however, a more serious dispute was brewing between Agricola and Luther over many of the same issues.144
With this mention of the antinomian controversy our analysis has come full circle. What had begun in 1527 and carried over into the Scholia of 1528 as a debate over poenitentia, now reemerged as a fullblown dispute over the nature and benefits of the law. When Agricola arrived in 1537, he inherited some discontented students who, like Cordatus, saw the gospel itself being swallowed up by the law in the teaching of some of the university's theologians. Agricola's sermons caused immediate hostility among some in Luther's inner circle, who had already been put on the defensive by Cordatus's charges. Luther, whose moderate temperament was always inclined to defend his friends, now took the lead in defining the work of the law within the life of the Christian. Differences between his and Melanchthon's solutions to this dilemma would cause their theological heirs a host of divisions over justification, good works, and the uses of the law. At this time, however, they were still united in opposition to Roman legalism and evangelical antinomianism.
The Exegetical Works of John Agricola
1. Annotations on the Gospel of Luke
Al. "IN EVAN I GELIVM LVCAE ANNO= I TATIONES IOANNIS I AGRICOLAE ISLE= 11311. SUMMA SCRI= I PTVRARVM I FIDE TRA= I CTA= I TAE. I [Three dots] I MDXXV." Woodcut, 8'. Colophon: "Auguste Vindelecorum, per Simpertum Ruff. I Anno. XXV. Mense Aprili." 182 + [2 unnumbered] leaves.
A2. "IN EVAN= I GELIVM LVCAE ANNOTA I tiones Ioannis agricolae Islebij, sum I ma scripturarum fide I tractae. I [Petreius's seal] I Norembergae apud loan. Petreium. I M.D.XXV." No woodcut, 8'. Colophon: "NOREMBERGAE APVD IOAN I NEM PETREIVM EXCV= I DEBATVR ANNO DO= I MINI M.D.XXV. I MENSE IVLII."
a. "Wie man die Heilig ge- I schrifft leben/ vnd wess man in der lesung I der Euangelischen histori acht haben/ I Was man darinn ersuchen vnd I forschen soil/ Ain kurtze vnd I Schone Bericht. I Johannis Agricole Eyf3lebenn I zu Wittenberg. I Johannis am 5. I Suochet in der Schrifft/ dann Ir I mainet/ jr habt das leben darinn/ I vnnd Sy ists/ die von mir zeiiget. I M.D.XXVI." No woodcut, 4'. Colophon: "Getruckt zuo Augspurg/ durch I Silvann Ottmar/ im jar/ I M.D.XXVI." [13 unnumbered] (+ 1 blank) leaves. This excerpt follows the first edition of 1525.
B. "IN EVAN I GELIVM LVCAE ANNO I tationes Ioannis Agricolae Isle= I bii, iam per autorem ipsum I & locupletatae & I recognitae. I [design] I M.D.XXVI. I HAGENOAE." Woodcut, 8'. Colophon: "Haganae Per Amandum I Farcallium Anno. I M.D.XXVI."
C. "IN LV= I CAE EVANGELIVM, I Adnotationes Iohannis Agri I colae Islebij, bona fide Scri I pturarum tractatae, & I nuper per authorem ip= I sum recogni- tae ac I restitutae. I Haganoae, per lohan. Sec. I An. M.D.XXIX." Woodcut, 8'. Colophon: "Haganoae, in aedibus Iohannis Secerij. I Anno M.D.XXIX. I Mense Maio." 225 + [8] leaves.
2. Sermons on Colossians
Al. "Die Epistel an die I Colosser/ S. Pauls/ Zu I Speier gepredigt auff I dem reychstage/ D. Martinum Lu= I ther vbersehen. I Wittemberg 11527." Woodcut, 8'. Colophon: "Gedriickt Zu Wit= I temberg durch I Simphorian I Reinhart. I Anno. M.D.XXVii." [135] (+ 1 blank) leaves.
A2. "Die Epistel an I die Colosser/ S. Pauls/ I zuo Speier gepredigt I auff dem Reychs= I tage/ von Joann I Agricola EyIl= I leben. I Durch Doctor Martinum I Luther iibersehen. I Wittemberg. 11527." Woodcut, 8'. No colophon [Augsburg: Philip Ulhart, Sr.]. [151] (+ 1 blank) leaves.
A3. "Von der Messe vnd I ihrem Canone Magistri Johan= I nis Agricolae Eysleben/ Lhere I vnd schrifft/ Welche er auff dem I Reichstag zu Speyer in der Epistel zu den Collossern I geprediget/ vnd folgend Anno M.D.XXVII. I zu Wittenbergk im Druck offentlich hat I ausgehen lassen/ Dem Interim so er ytzt I hat helffen stellen/ gantz entgegen/ I Daraus sein geyst zuuer= I mercken. I Psalm. cxlj. I HErr behUte meinen mund/ vnd beware meyne lip= I pen/ Neige mein hertz nicht auff etwas boses/ ein I Gottlol3 wesen zufiiren mit den vbelthe= I tern/ Das ich nicht esse/ von dem I das ihnen geliebet. I Hiero. super Esaiam. I Non sic adulandum est Principibus, ut I Sanctarum scripturarum ueritas negliga- tur." No woodcut, 4°. No colophon [probably printed in Magdeburg]. An excerpt of Al or Az.
3. Scholia on Titus
A. "IN EPIS= I TOLAM PAVLI I AD TITVM I Scholia. I IOAN. AGRICOLA I Islebio Autore. I PHIL. MEL. I ou&KE Sat& Xros T[6v] Xpt(3tt6v ypayrat I 'AnFkk ic, I "EvOeog 6); Hw6koS ttO 8' exapa~E I Xoyw. I I. K. I Non sic Daedaleus Christum pinxisset Apelles, I Vt sacer hunc Paulus exprimit ore pio." Woodcut, 8'. Colophon: "Vvitebergae apud Georgium I Rhau. M.D.XXX." [68] leaves.
4. Translation of Melanchthon's Annotations on Romans and 1 and 2 Corinthians
A. "Auslegung I der Episteln S. I Pauls/ eine an die Ro= I mer vnd zwo an die Co= I rinther/ Philippi Melan= I chthons/ gedeudscht. I Wittemberg. 11.5.2.7." Woodcut with the initials I. K., 8'. Colophon: "Gedriickt durch Joseph Klug. I zu Wittemberg. Anno. 11.5.27." 302 + [28] leaves. The prefatory letter of Agricola to Wilhelm Rincken, a coworker in Eisleben, is dated "am tage Fabiani vnd Sebastiani [= January 20] Im M D vnd XXVii."