desire for him, so that we may continue to cry out to him; he wants us to cry out to him in order that he may hear and answer us. He wants to hear us in order that he may save us, and thus he teaches us to distrust ourselves and put our confidence in him. And what he says is really true: "I kill and I make alive"
[Deut. 32:39], which means that here the words, "woke him," mean our deliverance. Thus we are taught that we perish when he sleeps. For he for whom Christ is not sleeping will not perish. He who does not perish does not cry out. He who does not cry out will not be heard. He who is not heard receives nothing.
He who receives nothing has nothing. And he who has nothing will perish. So it happens that he who does not perish really perishes;3 and he for whom the Lord does not sleep never rightly wakes him. Therefore, sleep on, Lord Jesus, that thou mayest awake, and let us perish, that thou mayest save us.
Accordingly, even if the whole world outside leaves us in peace, behold, each one of us is himself a very great and spacious sea, full of reptiles and animals, large and small. Indeed, even the great dragon is in us. Just consider how many storms the eye alone stirs up, how many the ear, and the tongue! And besides, our slippery soul—how many deadly and reptilian thoughts it cherishes! How many beasts, large and small, are there—the various and constantly changing desires, cares and hatreds, fears, hopes, pains, and vain delights! Here is where the dragon comes in, that is, the tyranny of the flesh, the tinder of concupiscence, the law in our members [cf. Rom. 7:23]. When this beast rages and storms, who is safe, who is quiet? Behold, then, what great miseries we are filled with! Truly, such a person cries out, "My eyes cause me grief" [Lam. 3:51], and again, "Death has come up into our windows" [Jer. 9:21]. He who does not feel this, is dead, and as I have said, he who really feels it is certainly the one of the disciples who wakens Jesus and says, "Save, Lord; we are perishing." But oh, sorrow! how many people, even almost all
Christians, do we see sinking, and how few crying out for help! Yea rather, we too are the same and we too act according to our own righteousness, so we are saved not by calling upon Christ but by the power of our works. We make ourselves secure in order to escape trials. We do not want perils which will drive us to cry out. We would rather perform good works in order to have peace. But this is to perish a thousand thousand times. Woe to those who do this!
Luther's concern over the sale of indulgences finds passionate expression in this sermon. (Cf. Kiessling, op. cit., p. 100 and H. Boehmer, Road to Reformation, trans. by John W. Doberstein and Theodore G.
Tappert (Philadelphia, 1946), p. 177.
Text in Latin; WA 1, 138–142, compared with CL 5, 424–428.
Man hides what is his own in order to conceal it, but God conceals what is his in order to reveal it.
That is to say, he hides it from the wise and the great in order that they may be humbled and become fools and thus reveal it to babes; for such was his gracious will, and his will is the best, just, righteous, and holy.
And where is there any better will than that which, because it hides itself, removes what impedes the gospel, namely, pride? Two questions should be asked here. Who are the ones who are wise and understanding, from whom it is hidden? And what is it that is hidden?
The usual answer to the first question is that the wise and understanding are those who think they are wise but actually are not. Many declare that this explanation is true enough, but that it is more obscure than the text itself. Those who say this are the ones who are themselves of this stripe but will not admit it and yet want to deprecate such people. For this explanation sounds as if some were actually wise, whereas others only think themselves wise. Such an explanation is dangerous; it comes very close to pride and is characteristic of those who imagine themselves wise. Therefore a Christian should say: Wise are those who, in so far as they are wise at all, are especially wise in the wisdom of God and in the holy Scriptures.
All such are wise and appear to be wise only in their own eyes. On the other side are those whom the Christian calls truly wise, those who do not consider themselves wise, who have no wisdom of their own but rather are fools, lacking wisdom and understanding, because without any self-deception whatsoever they see that they are empty and know absolutely nothing. These, I say, the ones who are really foolish but thirst for wisdom, these are truly wise. All others, whether they be those who only think they are wise, like dolts and complete ignoramuses, or whether they possess wisdom, like subtle hypocrites, are wise only
- 17 because they are not fools, not empty, not hungry for wisdom, and not babes [before God]. Therefore the Apostle, that excellent doctor, does not say: If any one among you thinks he is wise, let him consider himself a fool; he says rather, "let him become a fool that he may become wise" [I Cor. 3:18]. For this is a true statement: The fool is the wise man and the wise man a fool, a fool, of course, in his own wisdom and a fool in another's wisdom, namely, the wisdom of God who adjudges and imputes it to him. For he who acknowledges himself to be a fool in the sight of God to him this humility will be accounted as the highest wisdom.
Therefore the truly wise—I mean the fools—are always saying, "Make thy way straight before me"
[Ps. 5:8] and "keep steady my steps" [Ps. 119:133]. But one who prays in this way is acknowledging himself to be blind and a fool, and yet he does not think of himself as being foolish but as if he were really wise after all. The wise, on the contrary, that is, the fools, say: "Who shall show us any good?" [Ps. 4:6].
We are what we are; we follow the dictates of our pious intentions and right reason—as Cicero in his work, "On Old Age,"1 boasts that the wise are wise because they follow reason as their best guide. This right reason, this dictate, this wisdom of nature, which now resounds and is being vaunted from every pulpit, this is the wisdom and prudence which the Father has hidden from those who are his, in order to make them fools and defendants and thus compel them to seek for grace to guide them. And again one can distinguish the wise and intelligent by the fact that the wise are masters of youth and others, able to teach others, and the intelligent are capable of grasping what is being taught them. But both are fools in the sight of God.
To the second question the answer that is given is that what is hidden is Christ himself and God the Father. But Christ himself immediately resolved the question when he said, "All things have been delivered to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and any one to whom the Son chooses to reveal him" [Matt. 11:27]. Therefore the knowledge of God and Christ, the Father and the Son, is that which is hidden, against which the wise and holy make their greatest assaults, as John says, "And they will do this (that is, they will kill you and think they are offering service to God) because they have not known the Father, nor me" [John 16:3]. They think they are offering service to God by being wise and understanding, not babes. It follows, however, that the wise, because this is hidden, know neither the Father nor the Son. What, then, is the knowledge of God which is taught by Christ? Is everything taken away from us and nothing left to us? Where, then, is wisdom? Where is righteousness? Where is virtue? Not in us, but in Christ. It is outside of us, in God.
Thus we have been made babes, fools, sinners, liars, weaklings, and nothing, since everything was given over to Christ. No one knows the Father except the Son and no one knows the Son except the Father because everything belongs to the Father alone and has been given only to the Son. Thus we have been utterly emptied of all knowledge and thus made so altogether childlike and fit that the Father reveals to us what is his own and likewise the Son reveals to us what is his own. This means, however, that both reveal the same thing and there is only one revelation and only one revealer. The Father glorifies the Son and the Son the Father, as is said in John [17:1]. Therefore, learn where wisdom, virtue, and understanding is to be found. Baruch says in chapter three: "This is our God … he found out the whole way to knowledge." It is therefore neither of us nor in us, but is to be sought in God. "He has given it to Jacob his servant and to Israel his elect" [Bar. 3:35, 36]. And John 12 [:32] says, "I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself." Thus he leaves nothing to us. Really nothing! Where then does this leave the wise?
Therefore, know that Christ himself was made our righteousness, virtue, and wisdom by God [cf. I Cor. 1:30]. In him God the Father reposed all his wisdom, virtues, and righteousness in order that they might become ours. This is what it means to know the Son. Moreover, you should know that the Father in his mercy reckons to us his Son's righteousness, which is his own righteousness; for the righteousness of the Father and the Son are one; it is one life and one virtue which is given to us. This is what it means to know the Father of Christ. But this is so hidden from the wise that, immediately they hear it, they begin to babble: "We shall not do good. 'Why not do evil that good may come?' [Rom. 3:8]. If we are justified through a righteousness outside of us and solely through God's mercy, then let us take our ease, since our work is all in vain and our wisdom is nothing." So say those who are all too wise and righteous. If only they would first become babes, in order to be able to accept the Father and the Son, who reveals himself, they would easily solve the question as to why it is not the do-nothings to whom wisdom, that is, Christ, is revealed, and that he who no longer lives to himself but Christ in him [cf. Gal. 2:20] need not fear that - 18 Christ is doing nothing. No, on the contrary, he is supremely active and present with all sweetness and ease, whereas these others drudge and sweat in their own wisdom and righteousness and burden themselves in vain with tremendous misery. For they want to attain peace of conscience through their own counsels and accomplishments and their own self-chosen ways, and they will not cease doing so until they see that their sins have been purged through satisfaction and their self-will has been satisfied, which is impossible and is only to build on sand [cf. Matt 7:26].
Therefore, no matter how much they work, labor, and speculate, they accomplish nothing else except to increase the restlessness of their souls, which is just what they are seeking to escape through all their efforts. But one cannot escape it except through knowing the Father and the Son, that is, through knowing the grace and mercy of God which is freely given to us in Christ and the merits of Christ which are imputed to us. To these Christ now says, "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest" [Matt. 11:28]; for you cannot refresh yourselves, you cannot give yourselves rest, but I can.
What is there left in you? Get out of yourselves and come to me. Despair of yourselves and hope in me, just as Abraham went out from his country, his kindred, from his and his father's house [Gen. 12:1]. For we ourselves are a father's house, we ourselves are the world. Therefore we must go out of ourselves, for we labor and are heavy-laden. More fittingly the Greek text says: Come to me, all who are fatigued and heavy-laden. That is, it would be less hard if we labored as burden bearers, so that the burden would be the labor. But here the labor too is the burden, that is, we labor to find rest and this very labor only burdens us more, since the sin is only increased through our righteousness and works. The conscience is neither relieved nor freed from fear thereby, but only more greatly wearied, as the Preacher says, "The toil of a fool wearies him, so that he does not know the way to the city" [Eccles. 10:15]. And immediately preceding, "He who quarries stones is hurt by them; and he who splits logs is endangered by them"
[Eccles. 10:9]. This is the business and labor of work righteousness. In ordinary speech we also say of difficult labor: I'd rather lug stones and chop wood.2 And yet, what do both of these labors accomplish except that they serve others and not oneself?
Therefore, let us hear something about the rest of souls: "Take my yoke upon you" [Matt. 11:29]. He does not say: Do this or that; but rather, come to me, get away from yourselves, and carry your cross after me. "He who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me" [Matt. 10:38]. For to come to Christ and go out from oneself is the great cross, which no one dreads more than he who is seeking to wash away his sins through his own works. Because all these desire to escape, not their sins, but the punishment of their sins—for they are slaves, they hate, not the sin, but the penalty of sin—therefore they seek to extinguish the fire of hell and escape the judgment by all kinds of sanctifications.3 But because the sin always remains, the punishment of conscience does not pass over.4 In other words, they are looking after their own interests [Phil. 2:21]. Therefore the wicked have no peace [Isa. 48:22; 57:21]. If they would give up themselves and hate their sins, they would have no punishment and would not need to fear it; for when the sin is taken away the punishment ceases of itself. But they do not want to give up themselves and are afraid of Christ's easy yoke. So they go on laboring under their burden, being afraid where there is nothing to be afraid of, and dragging their sin like a heavily laden wagon.
Then in addition, the very profusion of indulgences astonishingly fills up the measure of servile righteousness. Through these nothing is accomplished except that the people learn to fear and flee and dread the penalty of sins, but not the sins themselves.5 Therefore, the results of indulgences are too little seen but we do see a great sense of self-security and licentious sinning; so much so that, if it were not for the fear of the punishment of sins, nobody would want these indulgences, even if they were free; whereas the people ought rather to be exhorted to love the punishment and embrace the cross.6 Would that I were a liar when I say that indulgences are rightly so called, for to indulge means to permit, and indulgence is equivalent to impunity, permission to sin, and license to nullify the cross of Christ. Or, if indulgences are to be permitted, they should be given only to those who are weak in faith, that those who seek to attain gentleness and lowliness through suffering, as the Lord here says, may not be offended. For, not through indulgences, but through gentleness and lowliness, so says he, is rest for your souls found. But gentleness is present only in punishment and suffering, from which these indulgences absolve us. They teach us to dread the cross and suffering and the result is that we never become gentle and lowly, and that means that we never receive indulgence nor come to Christ. Oh, the dangers of our time! Oh, you snoring priests! Oh, darkness deeper than Egyptian! How secure we are in the midst of the worst of all our evils!