Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten New Insights Baigesetely Bucer scholarship has not stood still since the appearance of the German original of this book in 1990. On the contrary, it has advanced remarkably. This is true for critical editions of the Strasbourg reformer's works and letters just as it is for research on his life and work.
The Bucer-Forschungsstelle in Heidelberg, which edits the Strasbourg reformer's German-language works, is also in the process of completing a new bibliography of his works. A detailed inventory of secondary literature on Bucer was published in 1999.' In 1997, Gottfried Seebass, the director of the Forschungsstelle, published a very illuminating review of Bucer research since 1991.? The above publications provide the basis for the following remarks in which I present new and controversial scholarly viewpoints, respond to critiques of my own views, and discuss areas of research full of promise.
The Years until Bucer's Arrival in Strasbourg To my knowledge, there have been no new works on the reformer's family and his early surroundings in Sélestat. Two interesting essays, however, deal with Bucer's report on Luther's Heidelberg disputation of 1518 (see chapter 2).3 Both essentially arrive at the same conclusions: Bucer did not by any means "misunderstand" Luther on account of an Erasmian background supposedly blinkering his perception of the Wittenberg reformer.
In fact, he probably grasped exactly what Luther said and was equally accurate in reporting it. The two authors interpret apparent inaccuracies in Bucer's report within the framework of Luther's theology at the time.
Their conclusion is thus not surprising: "Incontestable evidence of Bucer's 255.
Martin Bucer own theological emphases cannot be found in a single passage of his report."* I do not wish to insist on all the details of my original interpretation of Bucer's account of the disputation, according to which the young
Dominican heard and understood Luther's comments in harmony with his Erasmian and Thomistic presuppositions. | would, however, continue to plead for the continuing validity of a fundamental hermeneutic principle: that none of the men upon whom Luther made a deep and lasting impression—indeed an impression that left some of them, such as Bucer, fundamentally changed for the rest of their lives—were intellectual and theological tabulae rasae on the eve of their encounter with the Wittenberg reformer. Consequently, they—especially the creative and restless spirits among them—played a role more significant than that of constituting mere receptacles of Luther's theology. I thus consider it methodologically important not to lose sight of the preconditions and presuppositions that future supporters of the Reformation brought with them when encountering
Luther. Both studies fail to take this dimension into account. As a result, while justifiably rejecting the simplistic attribution of everything to Erasmus's influence, they come dangerously close to the opposite extreme of turning Luther into an overwhelmingly dominant figure.
'Taking issue with my claim that linguistic style and particularly theological content preclude Bucer's authorship of the anonymous pamphlets
A Beautiful Dialogue (Ain schoner Dialogus) and Neu-Karsthans (see chapter 2), Siegfried Brauer argues in an incisive and well-thought-out article for attributing at least New-Karsthans to Bucer, for it is "certainly imaginable" that he could have written such a work.' Thomas Kaufmann makes similar points, while ultimately placing greatest emphasis on the impossibility of determining authorship.° I think we can all agree that analysis, however thorough, of only the text of New-Karsthans will never provide a sufficiently solid foundation for demonstrating that Bucer was its author.
One question requiring definite clarification 1s why the author who proves to be such an involved and committed theologian in his writings of the years 1518 to 1523 does not show even a sign of it in New-Karsthans. I do not find explanations very convincing that appeal to the new historical context and the different literary genre. But since this issue cannot be solved with final certainty, it probably makes most sense to conclude with a non liquet verdict.
Little is known about Elisabeth Silbereisen and her marriage with Bucer (chapter 2). Herman J. Selderhuis has recently gathered the scattered information available.' While Doris Ebert provides us with a much more detailed account, she relies to a great extent on speculation and quite
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a bit of imagination. She does succeed in arguing with some probability that Bucer's son Nathanael was born not in 1529 but rather in 1539 or 1540 (chapter 6).® A Preacher in Strasbourg Recent scholarship has paid heightened attention to Bucer's early writings. By carefully studying what the reformer said about civil authority in his programmatic work That No One Should Live for Himself (Das ym selbs niemant .
. leben soll), Matthieu Arnold establishes the extent to which Bucer either relied on Luther or maintained an independent stance." Gustave Koch discusses what concrete changes a layperson in Wissembourg would have experienced in her or his day-to-day life as a result of embracing the message Bucer preached in Wissembourg.!" Already the second volume of Bucer's correspondence (letters of the years 1524 to 1526) had provided us with ample evidence of the growing, and soon exclusive, importance of the conflict over the Lord's Supper. This topic also plays a central role in volume 3, which contains the correspondence of the years
1527 to 1529.!! Yet Bucer's letters of these years also show that a multitude of religious and social problems plagued him and his colleagues in Strasbourg. Anabaptists posed an increasingly important challenge during this time. Bucer's participation in the Bern disputation of 1528 not ~ only widened his horizon but also increased the number of people corresponding with him. These experiences strengthened him in the conviction that evangelicals divided over the eucharistic controversy had to forget their differences and present a common front, at least when dealing with opponents of the Reformation. Finally, these letters shed some light on Bucer's private life, including his taking on the important pastorship of St. Thomas Church in the heart of the city in April 1529.
A burning issue at the time Bucer began his ministry in Strasbourg was the growing theoretical and later practical opposition of many priests to clerical celibacy (see chapter 3). Using Bucer's letter to Otilia von Berckheim of April 1524 as a point of departure, Bernd Moeller expounds the far-reaching consequences that clerical marriage had on the development of the new "social class" of Protestant pastors.'* At about this same time, evangelical preachers started pronouncing judicial rulings in marital matters, deliberately disregarding hitherto valid canon law. 'They decreed divorces and allowed divorced people to remarry. At least the first four memoranda in the tenth volume of Martin Bucers Deutsche Schriften reflect this unique historical phenomenon." Important motifs in Bucer's marriage
Martin Bucer and divorce memoranda are his understanding of marriage as an intimate, close fellowship in which each partner helps and serves the other unconditionally and both help and serve the rest of society.'*
As we have seen, Bucer was only one among many important figures during these early years (see chapter 3). Michel Weyer succeeds in giving us a vivid portrayal of the popular preacher Matthew Zell's thoughts and actions, as well as of the personality of his remarkable wife, Katharina
Schiitz.!> Reinhard Bodenmann achieves the same for Caspar Hedio.'® Yet the central theme remains the Lord's Supper (chapter 3). The works of Thomas Kaufmann represent a significant scholarly contribution to our understanding of this controversy from the perspective of the Strasbourg preachers.
'To begin with, Kaufmann persuasively identifies Capito and Bucer as the authors of two anonymous pamphlets printed in the fall of 1525.'7 Both imprints constitute direct and indirect attacks on Luther's interpretation of the Lord's Supper. Whether or not Bucer actually wrote one of them (it purports to have been authored by a certain Cunrat Ryss zu Ofen) must remain an open issue. We are well advised to remain cautious, given the clear conformity of this text with arguments typical for Andreas Karlstadt, and the fact, pointed out by Marc Lienhard,'* that a citizen by the name of Conrad Ryff zu Ofen is known to have lived in Strasbourg in 1528.
More significant for our purposes is Kaufmann's composition, on the basis of these sources, of an argumentative line that runs as follows: the Strasbourg reformers, and Bucer foremost among them, were always accommodating and conciliatory in public, especially when confronting the Wittenberg theologians. Secretly, however, they polemicized and stirred up emotions against them. They therefore acted disingenuously and certainly not irenically. Kaufmann develops this thesis in greater detail in his dissertation.!"
I want to make it clear from the outset that I have no doubts about the quality of Kaufmann's book. It represents an excellent and compellingly argued piece of scholarship. This is true for its demonstration of Luther's dominating influence in the early years of the Reformation. Bucer's own position is rightly placed in the context of his colleagues and not studied in isolation. Kaufmann also coherently describes the Strasbourg preachers' estrangement from Luther's understanding of the Lord's Supper and their gradual espousal of Zwingli's and Oecolampadius's views. He shows that Bucer was clearly convinced of the rightness of his own interpretation of the Bible passages that deal with the Lord's Supper and therefore undertook everything at his disposal to disseminate and enforce his views. There
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can be no doubt that Bucer was intent on pushing back Luther's influence in this area. It is equally indisputable that in pursuit of this goal he resorted to decidedly questionable means. It remains to be seen, however, if justice is done to Bucer by portraying him as a conspiratorial figure drawing strings behind the scenes and plotting sinister schemes against the Wittenberg Reformers. I also would hesitate to characterize Bucer's addition of annotations—plainly identified by the Strasbourg reformer as his own differing opinion—to his Latin translation of the fourth volume of Luther's Postils as an "outrage.""? Kaufmann is entirely right in rejecting, on the basis of historical fact, the flawed perspective that Bucer was obsessed with reconciling opposing views and reaching an agreement at any cost. Yet Kaufmann never finds himself at a loss when it comes to calling attention to statements by Bucer that confirm just this stereotype. This results in the repetition, scarcely concealed, of the timeworn accusation that the Strasbourg reformer was equivocal and dishonest.
This aspect of Bucer's conduct should certainly not be glibly dismissed.
But is there a single scholar who adhered or adheres to the simplistic view, so vigorously attacked by Kaufmann, that Bucer was a thoroughgoing irenicist? Certainly not Walther Kohler; nor, for that matter, Jacques Pollet. Are we thus left with accusing an imaginary "Stupperich school"??! I would find it more helpful to propose that Bucer's behavior was guided by two criteria: on the one hand, Bucer sincerely believed he was theologically right in his understanding of the Lord's Supper, since he was convinced of having the statements of the Bible—the very foundation of the Reformation—on his side; he therefore felt he had not only the right but also the obligation to stand up for his own position. On the other hand, though, he also believed that this disagreement among Protestants over the Lord's Supper should not be allowed to jeopardize evangelical unity when confronting supporters of the Roman Church in Strasbourg, the German Empire, and beyond. This second conviction was of a pragmatic and political nature, and it presented Bucer with several tactical options.
He felt he had these options precisely because he strongly believed—on the basis of his understanding of the Lord's Supper—that the points of disagreement did not pertain to the very core of the gospel and of evangelical faith. In a letter he wrote to Jakob Otter in September 1525, resolutely defending Zwingli's interpretation of the words of consecration, Bucer concludes by pointing out that the controversy fortunately concerns an issue "of not so much importance" (on adeo magni momenti).-* 1 believe this statement sincerely expresses Bucer's views. Of course, this is not enough to make an irenicist of him. But neither does it provide sufficient
Martin Bucer erounds for turning him into a dishonest tactician. Only after some time did Bucer finally realize that Luther—precisely because of his own understanding of the Lord's Supper—could not treat this disagreement as a trifling one.
A number of recent publications deal with Bucer as a biblical exegete (see chapter 3). Bernard Roussel places Bucer within a "Rhenish school of biblical exegesis" at home in southwestern Germany and identifies the philological, rhetorical, and theological features typical for his exegetical works.?> Using her superbly meticulous critical edition of Bucer's commentary on the Gospel of John as a point of departure, Irena Backus summarizes the central thoughts of this work throughout the 1527, 1530, and 1536 editions of this work.** She demonstrates how Bucer develops his concept of the church in this commentary against the backdrop of the introduction of the Reformation in Bern and in opposition to Catholics and Lutherans. She also expounds the Retractationes that Bucer added to this work after the 1536 Wittenberg Concord. Bucer's commentary on Ephesians of 1527 dealt with very similar topics, as Peter Stephens shows in his comparison with the posthumous edition of 1550-51." In the first edition, Bucer highlights Christ's relationship to the church as his body in order to give prominence to the unity of the church and the fellowship of Christians among one another. 'The later version attached greater importance to the church offices, doctrines, and sacraments, thus emphasizing the church as an institution. This is certainly due to the fact that Bucer found himself in a completely different situation in England. Besides, he now unmistakably possessed a deeper appreciation for the historical continuity of the church and the reality of its existence as an organization. In an informative article, Gerald Hobbs analyzes the direct and indirect impact that Bucer's major commentary on the Psalms had through its translation into the English vernacular.'° All the interesting studies mentioned above make the lack of critical editions of Bucer's biblical commentaries painfully apparent.
Spokesman of the Strasbourg Reformation The volume of Bucer's correspondence that appeared most recently offers a wealth of information, not only on Bucer's personal life (e.g., his having to bathe in mineral springs because of scabies), but especially on the different theological confrontations in which he was involved.'' Of greatest importance during this period, of course, were Bucer's efforts to put an end to the eucharistic controversy during the negotiations surrounding
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the diet of Augsburg (see chapter 4). This is a theme that Wilhelm H.
Neuser also addresses in an article on Bucer's activity as a mediator during the same period."* By carefully analyzing thirty-one documents that issued from Bucer's pen from July 1530 to April 1531, Neuser demonstrates how the Strasbourg reformer cautiously and gradually drew near to Luther's position. Bucer always proceeded in the following way: first, he rejected the sharpest formulations from both sides as being too radical; then he sought wordings that expressed the theological intentions of the Swiss as well as of the theologians in Wittenberg. His firm conviction that both sides essentially saw eye to eye gave him the freedom and selfassurance to follow this path. To be sure, at the same time he adhered to the view that the Lutherans were the "weak in faith" in this issue, and because of this, they had to be tolerated with love and patience. Finally,
Neuser emphatically rejects the insinuation that Bucer behaved deceitfully or even untruthfully in these discussions. The Lord's Supper is only one of the topics dealt with in Bucer's written defense against the attacks of the bishop of Avranches, Robert Céneau (see chapter 4). Ian P. Hazlett has prepared a painstaking and richly commented edition of this work, which has appeared as volume 5 in the Opera latina series.*'? When Bucer wrote the Defensio adversus axioma catholicum, he did not know that Céneau was a theologian who may have been willing to carry out reforms, but who was ultimately a resolute supporter of the Roman Catholic Church, and who also had excellent contacts to similar-minded and politically influential circles in the court of the French queen mother. Neither did Bucer know that the French chancellor to whom he had dedicated his book, Cardinal Antoine Duprat, also belonged to this group. In his onslaught against Bucer, Céneau was probably not intending to single out a solitary heretic but rather wishing to attack all humanistic and evangelical-minded persons in his Norman diocese, in addition to certain associates of King
Francis I, who at the time was speaking out for rapprochement with German Protestants and reforming the French national church. The fact that Céneau chose Bucer, of all people, as the object of his attack exemplifies how renowned the Strasbourg reformer had become in France.
Bucer defended not only his own but also the common Protestant understanding of the Lord's Supper by appealing to both Oecolampadius and Luther in his arguments and thus rebuffing the claim that the evangelical camp was plagued by dissension and disunity. Céneau had asserted that the latter were the unfailing signs of a heresy. But Bucer did not leave it at that. He went on to expound the fundamentals of Reformation theology and practice in a conciliatory, winning fashion. His guiding principle
Martin Bucer was the affirmation that all Christians agreed on the essentials of the faith and that abuses in the church could be done away with on the basis of the Bible, the church fathers, and even early scholastics. Never before had he come comparably close in approaching Catholic positions in this way.
This was indeed a new chapter in his efforts at achieving union.
According to Hazlett's compelling conjecture, Bucer based the first part of his defense against Céneau on the Counsel (Consilium) he had written for the French envoy whom King Francis I had sent to Germany in 1534 in order to gain support for discussions over necessary church reforms between like-minded people of both confessions. From this point onward,
Bucer was certainly ready to embark on such negotiations.
With the Defensio we reach the theme of Bucer's Europe-wide engagement (see chapter 4). More than any other reformer, Bucer included the Christendom of all of Europe in his field of view. A number of recent studies analyze Bucer's contacts and relations with Reformation-minded groups of varying dimensions in different European countries.'? In an informative article, Marc Lienhard offers a clarifying explanation of this phenomenon from a broad perspective.*! In an essay of my own, I discuss the theological presuppositions of Bucer's model, which aimed at dialogue and cooperation between the churches of Europe.*" This did not mean that there was no such thing as absolute truth for Bucer, nor that he was willing to postpone theological efforts at attaining this truth. But since he made a fundamental distinction between essential and secondary articles of the Christian faith, unsettled dogmatic issues did not have to impede the religious and moral endeavors to bring about a closer cooperation between the churches of Europe, a cooperation that would be characterized by mutual giving and taking.
Using Bucer's relations to France as an example, Ian P. Hazlett demonstrates how rationally and pragmatically the Strasbourg reformer pursued his European goals.*? In view of the centralized government of the country, Bucer focused his entire attention on winning over the leading personalities at the court, and even the king himself. He tried to establish an evangelical foothold in a French-speaking city from where he could attempt to raise support for his cause by means of pamphlets, letters, and sermons. [his did not succeed in the case of Metz, but it did in Geneva, as we know from Calvin's experience after returning from Strasbourg.
Bucer's innovative ideas in marriage law have already been discussed above. He developed his thought on this matter in a particularly detailed and precise way while helping the city council of Ulm with the introduction of the Reformation (see chapter 4). Volume 10 of Martin Bucers Deutsche
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Schriften, which we mentioned previously, contains at least four marriage memoranda addressed to the Ulm city council, among them the voluminous treatise On Marriage and Divorce according to Divine and Roman Law
(Von der Ehe und Ehescheidung aus gottlichem und kaiserlichem Recht). hese texts understandably play a central role in the book by Herman J. Selderhuis, mentioned previously.** In it, Selderhuis engages in a meticulous compilation of Bucer's statements on marriage, which he then analyzes systematically. He makes a convincing case for Bucer's positive valuation of marriage as a moral fellowship, as well as for the improvement of the status of women that went along with this. For Bucer, ending a disrupted marriage by means of divorce and allowing the divorcées to remarry was nothing other than the dissolution of a marriage that had already ceased existing de facto. Selderhuis does charge Bucer with not having carried out the forthright exposition of the clear sense of Scripture—contrary to his expressed intentions. This critique is not to be dismissed easily. Yet in arguing in this way, Selderhuis does not make sufficient allowances for the peculiarity of Bucer's theological hermeneutics. Bucer's point of departure was the order of existence expressed in Genesis 2:28 and instituted by God since creation. First Corinthians 7:2 bore witness to the fact that this order remained valid under the new covenant. This was the fundamental presupposition upon which Bucer based his exegesis, carried by the conviction that no biblical statement could contradict the order of existence that God had built into the very fabric of creation. According to Bucer, the Holy Spirit elucidates the meaning of the statements of the Old and New Testaments, as well as of the decrees of Roman law, thus making possible the well-being of individuals as well as of entire communities, as wished by God.
The Synod of 1533 (chapter 4) dealt with the doctrinal, social, and ethical reorganization of church structures in Strasbourg. Stephen E. Buckwalter has presented a detailed study of Bucer's and Capito's attitudes toward Anabaptists in Strasbourg until 1528.*? A further study by Matthieu
Arnold underscores Bucer's failure to convince the city council to take a tougher stance against Anabaptism."° John S. Oyer offers a comprehensive view of Bucer's position toward
Anabaptism.*" Contrary to Bullinger or Melanchthon, Bucer was sincerely concerned with winning back Anabaptists to the Protestant fold.
This did not prevent him from attacking them head on whenever he felt that the established church was in danger. But he took them very seriously on a theological level, especially when they criticized the church for its absent discipline. Amy Nelson Burnett has shown how the Anabaptist emphasis on commitment to Christ influenced Bucer's understanding of
Martin Bucer confirmation.*> When church structures in Strasbourg became firmer,
Bucer's approach to the Anabaptists became more characterized by pastoral concern.
I have outlined how Bucer's theological understanding of the cooperation between church and state is manifested in the sixteen articles discussed in the Synod of 1533.°? Since Christ rules over the whole world and not just over the church, all Christians must also strive to carry out his will in their respective professions and estates. In this way, they serve and benefit one another and promote the spiritual and earthly welfare of the ecclesiastical and civil community. Church and state make use of different means in this process. However, since they ultimately pursue the same goal, the spiritual fellowship and the civic community are practically coterminous, constituting a single pious and morally upright society.
The spiritualists, particularly Schwenckfeld and his supporters, rejected this far-reaching influence of the civil authorities over questions of faith and religious fellowship. R. Emmet McLaughlin shows that one of the main reasons why Bucer opposed spiritualists so vigorously was precisely the sympathy and approval they received from Strasbourg's ruling elite.*°
This social group was less than enthusiastic about enforcing a new church ordinance. Accordingly, these powerful citizens, influenced by the spirit of Schwenckfeld, distanced themselves from the preachers' efforts to set up compulsary doctrinal norms. The same phenomenon can be observed in Esslingen, Ulm, Augsburg, Wiirttemberg, and elsewhere, leading Bucer to resist the Silesian spiritualist and his supporters untiringly in the following months and years. His success, however, was minimal, for these spiritualist circles were often closely intertwined with the respective political leadership of a city. On the whole, Sebastian Franck was less influential, although the criticism he leveled at Bucer was similar to that of Schwenckfeld. 'Two recent articles deal with this topic.*! Like other spiritualists,
Franck advocated a markedly inward form of piety and vigorously attacked Bucer's Dialogi oder Gesprech (Dialogues or Discussion) of 1535 (see chapter
4) in a work with the paradoxical title War Booklet of Peace (Kriegbiichlin des Friedes). Franck gruffly rejected Bucer's view that the laws of the Old Testament retained their normative validity, arguing instead for an allegorical interpretation of the Bible under the guidance of Christ's Spirit.
A further work that appeared in the wake of the Synod of 1533 is Bucer's catechism of the year 1534 (chapter 4). In a stimulating article, Michéle
Monteil compares it to Luther's Syall Catechism of 1529.Y Although the two works have much in common on account of the joint catechetical tradition they draw on, they also show marked pedagogical differences:
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whereas Luther imparts knowledge mostly by means of brief summaries and frequent repetitions, Bucer's preferred method is the dialogue, developing theological statements step by step, gradually casting them in more concrete forms, developing them further and then presenting them one last time succinctly. This procedure is obviously more intellectually demanding on catechumens, for it requires that they follow and join in the process of grappling with the questions of faith. Whereas Luther's catechism concentrates on soteriology and thus on the individual, Bucer consistently focuses on life in the ecclesiastical and civic community. Because of his distinction between law and gospel, Luther replaced the received catechetical pattern of faith-law-prayer with one of law-faith-prayer. Bucer, by contrast, was able to express his emphasis on ethics precisely within the traditional pattern, interpreting law in accordance with Old 'lestament
Torah as God's loving, salvation-bringing instruction.
A Champion of Protestant Unity and the Reformation of the Empire It has been often observed that legal issues, and especially the recourse to Roman civil law, played an increasingly important role in Bucer's thought during these years. An international symposium devoted to this theme was held in Emden, Germany, in March 2001. Among the many interesting papers presented, the observations of Cornel A. Zwierlein merit special attention.*? He demonstrates that Bucer concerned himself with Roman as well as with early canon law quite intensely from the late 1520s onward.
During the 1530s, as Bucer himself began to participate in the promulgation of laws, he made extensive use of these two legal sources. 'The Strasbourg reformer subsumed all things conducive to truth and goodness under "God's law" (/ex Dei). The norm on which he based this was, of course, the Bible. But the actual details for carrying out the intended reform of society were provided by Roman law, which Bucer, along with other humanists, understood as the substantial concretion of the "Golden
Rule." Therefore, we can almost describe the Reformation, in Zwierlein's fitting terms, as having made its appearance in the form of a major legal reform. I believe this is an idea worth pursuing.
Many of the studies mentioned in my survey up to this point deal with the late 1530s and early 1540s; but a number of them also include Bucer's early years in their scope. This is particularly true for the topic of Bucer's efforts to establish a system of church discipline. Several stages can be identified in this process, as his disciplinary endeavors became increasingly
Martin Bucer concrete and intense beginning in the late 1520s, throughout the 1530s, and culminating in the 1540s. His goals, however, always remained the same. Amy Nelson Burnett has made several contributions in this field (see chapter 5).4* They make evident that Bucer was not merely concerned with church discipline in a narrow sense but was committed to establishing a Christian social order that included strict religious and moral norms, as well as actual day-to-day conduct according to these norms. Education played a crucial role for Bucer in this process. Pastors were to be the primary educating agents, but ultimately all of society was to be involved.
Bucer's goal was that every individual Christian internalize evangelical values. The path leading to this consisted of instructing, informing, teaching, and educating people. This process was to begin by providing children and servants with catechetical instruction. Bucer wished that adults be subject to an examination before participating in the Lord's Supper, that they also be given the possibility of confessing privately, and that the entire congregation confess its faith publicly with some regularity. None of this became true in Strasbourg. Neither were Bucer's efforts to introduce confirmation crowned with success. The late Jean Rott has given us a detailed presentation of the problems facing the church wardens (Kirchenpfleger) in this respect." As late as 1541, the patrician Jacob Wetzel publicly denied such an office the right to exist: after all, the civil authorities and not the pastors were responsible for questions of public morality. In a further rout, the authorities turned down Bucer's 1546 request to be allowed, on account of the inaction of the church wardens, to summon parishioners himself in order to admonish and discipline them. Christian Meyer's essay on the Strasbourg Hymnal of 1541 deserves mention at this point.*° The preface to this splendid edition is the only place in which Bucer speaks in great detail about his understanding of music. He perceived music as an expression of God's order. Music was capable, more than words, of moving and stirring the soul—which of course opened the possibility of it being misused. For this reason, Bucer demanded that trivial and light music be discarded for the benefit of music devoted to the worship and praise of God, especially in catechetical instruction. Willem van 't Spijker summarizes the state of research on the relationship between Bucer and Calvin (see chapter 4).*" The two men were united not only by friendship ties but also by a common theology. Crucial in forming Calvin's thought were his Strasbourg years, which Spijker describes in great detail.*® He thus sees Calvin's later views on theology and social ethics as the presentation of Bucer's thoughts "in a precise and brief form."*? In my opinion, the lines of continuity drawn here are somewhat too direct.
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Two smaller contributions to this much-discussed topic deserve our attention. Cornelis Augustijn discusses the circumstances surrounding
Calvin's sharp criticism of Bucer in a letter written in 1538.°° One of the reasons for Calvin's accusations was his worry that Bucer was making far too many concessions to the Catholics, even to the point of being willing to abandon justification by faith, as we saw in the Defensio against Robert
Céneau. A second reason was Calvin's irritation over the fact that Bucer had reached a theological settlement with the Bernese, whose political power extended to the very gates of Geneva, and that this agreement was achieved at the expense of the Zwinglians, or more precisely of Bullinger in Zurich. Calvin's and Bucer's fundamentally different assessments of the papal church can seen as a reflection of their varying tactics. Whereas
Calvin could see only ghastly blasphemy in the Catholic Church, and particularly in its Mass, for Bucer it continued to be a church in spite of all of its abuses, which absolutely needed to be done away with—a church in which Christians could and should remain as long as they stood up for reforming it. Francis Higman makes a similar point in an instructive article on "Bucer and the Nicodemites." He shows that even though Bucer resolutely clung to unequivocal theological norms and regarded church reforms as absolutely necessary,! he still considered the patient path of slow inward and outward reforms to be much more effective and promising than the one of direct confrontation with the traditional church.
Bucer dwelled on this theme during the 1540s, particularly during the religious colloquies with the Catholics (see chapter 6). Cornelis Augustijn is entirely correct in pointing out that Bucer's activities during this period are far from having been adequately researched.' Augustijn himself, however, has contributed enormously to Bucer research with his work on these colloquies, as volume 9/1 of Martin Bucers Deutsche Schriften, which he edited, amply proves.° We are now able to see how Bucer not only sent his Leipzig reformation draft to the members of the Schmalkaldic League but also made it available to resolutely Catholic circles, in order to create a common basis for conversations. We are also shown how Bucer, in the same way, not only took part in the sessions of the Schmalkaldeners but also through his two propaganda writings Vom Tag zu Hagenaw (On the Hagenau Meeting)*+ assiduously sought to win support for a religious colloquy free from the pope's influence. Augustijn's volume centers on the "Worms Book" (Wormser Buch) in both its Latin and German versions (the latter probably prepared by Bucer).°? Gropper and Bucer were the main authors of this work, which concentrates on dogmatic and ecclesiastical issues that remained the matter of controversy between Protestants and
Martin Bucer Catholics and offers solutions for overcoming differences. Although the "Worms Book" has a lot in common with Bucer's Leipzig draft, altogether it argues from a more theological perspective.
In arriving at a comprehensive assessment of the work, Augustijn places much importance on the fact that Bucer chose justification by faith as his point of departure, instead of ecclesiology, as Gropper would have preferred. Volkmar Ortmann gives a differing view in his thorough and wellthought-out study on Bucer's efforts to achieve church unity through these religious colloquies.°® Bucer did in fact argue on the basis of ecclesiology, following Gropper's Enchiridion for the most part. But the formulations chosen by Bucer did not intend to be a record of unchangeable results; rather, they were the departure point for conversations, the outcome of which remained open. Under these conditions, it was certainly an official, even legal victory for Bucer that Protestant views were not excluded anywhere in the document. Ortmann argues just as convincingly that the concept championed by Bucer did not have its roots in the political situation around 1540 but can be traced back to his Defensio against Robert Céneau of 1534, as we saw above. The moment had apparently come for carrying out what Bucer had hoped and planned for, for so long: creating a united church in the German Empire, delivered of superstition and obvious abuses by incorporating the insights of Reformation theology. As Ortmann fittingly summarizes: "The Worms Book is an expression of Bucer's wish to present Protestant doctrine in such a manner that Catholics can recognize it as true, thus paving the way for an Evangelical
Reformation."°' A necessary preparatory step toward this goal would be a national council in which the opposing parties come to an agreement based on the Bible and—only in second place—the church fathers and the decisions of the early church councils. This implied retaining the received institutional structure of the church. We need not mention that Bucer's readiness to go along with this stood in diametrical opposition to many of his earlier statements and endeavors and met with bitter criticism from fellow Protestants. Yet I disagree with Augustijn when he, on the basis of these facts, infers that Bucer developed two quite separate ecclesiological conceptions, the second of which prevailed during this period of his life.
Augustijn°® does not take sufficiently into consideration Bucer's consistent and unswerving rejection of the pope as the enemy of all church reforms and his repeated attacks on the papal church. Bucer certrainly may have been willing to allow the reintroduction of some elements of Catholic ritual and custom that the Protestants had done away with. The same was true, albeit to a considerably less extent, for the theological substantiation of certain doctrinal articles such as the veneration of saints.
New Insights
Bucer nevertheless remained convinced that the Reformation would achieve a decisive breakthrough if the church would accept the authority of the Bible in questions of doctrine and, by implication, the Reformation view of justification by faith. This would lead to the isolation of the opponents of the Reformation and would bring about, with God's help, the gradual transformation of the church. That is at least how the leading figures in the Cologne cathedral chapter and theological faculty interpeted Bucer's intents—and accordingly, they refused to cooperate with him. Therefore,
Bucer can only to a limited extent be described as an ecumenically minded irenicist.°" Of course, his views changed with time; yet he did not undergo a radical change of mind. How much research is still waiting to be done in this area, however, is made evident once again by Cornelis Augustijn, who with good reason claims that not Calvin but Bucer was the author of the anonymous pamphlet Consilium admodum paternum Pauli III of March
1541. Nick Thompson calls our attention to the fact that Bucer was willing to tolerate the canon missae in exchange for the concession of the cup to laypeople in the Lord's Supper and the discontinuation of private masses.°!
Jochen Remy retraces the path leading from the religious colloquies to the "Cologne reformation" (see chapter 6).° In doing so, he demonstrates that the latter endeavor can be perceived as a continuation of the effort to reach a consensus by means of colloquies. A portion of these sources—Bucer's first writing of defense, his and Melanchthon's Christian and True Justification (Christliche und wabre Verantwortung), and the Strasbourg reformer's Simple Consideration (Einfiltiges Bedenken)—are now available in a solid, if somewhat scantily commented, critical edition in volume
11/1 of Martin Bucers Deutsche Schriften.°? We can expect the continued edition of Bucer's Cologne writings to shed more light on this area."
Christoph Strohm has pointed out that for Bucer "legal arguments played a key role for substantiating his own position and refuting that of his opponents" in the Cologne reformation attempt.® The authority of tradition was also a hotly contested issue in Cologne. Amy Nelson Burnett has described how Bucer used the church fathers to defend the Simple Consideration against charges that it deviated from early church practice.
Final Years Gottfried Hammann provides a number of helpful summaries®' of the major study® that he wrote on Bucer's ecclesiology, concentrating especially on the Strasbourg reformer's "Christian fellowships" (christliche
Gemeinschaften) (see chapter 7). Hammann shows how Bucer, basing himself on the early Christian model, aimed at building a church that was open
Martin Bucer to everyone and yet remained a fellowship in which pure doctrine and a life of holiness prevailed. The crisis brought about by the emperor's war against the Schmalkaldic League—in Bucer's view, God's punishment for Protestants' moral laxness—led the Strasbourg reformer to the theoretical and practical solution of setting up fellowships of committed Christians within the different Strasbourg parishes. 'Thomas A. Brady sees this as a renewed effort on the part of Bucer to bring back to life the very clerical authority he had rejected earlier.©' Brady's polemical account of the discord between Bucer and Jacob Sturm over the Interim (see chapter 7) is one-sided and does not muster the slightest empathy for Bucer. Disregarding the sources and most recent scholarship, Brady tends to caricature Bucer as a war hawk, an opportunist, a crusader, and even a cynic.'"
Much recent literature deals with Bucer's final years in England.'! They coincide in warning against overestimating Bucer's influence in shaping the Anglican Church. Diarmaid MacCulloch's standard work on Thomas
Cranmer—with whom Bucer had remained in touch since 1530—clearly indicates how limited Bucer's scope of activity in England indeed was."" It is probably in the 1552 revision of the Book of Common Prayer that Bucer exercised the greatest influence. However, Jochen Remy goes too far in assuming, on the basis of evidence that is much too general, that English translations of Bucer's Cologne writings had a tangible influence already on the first edition of the Book of Common Prayer of 1549.7 In spite of her thorough comparison of Bucer's Censura with the 1552 Book of Common
Prayer, Christine Klingenspor is able only to allude to possible influences.'* Scott Amos has, in a number of recent essays, shed additional light on aspects of Bucer's stay in England, including his critical stance toward aspects of the conduct of the English Reformation,'"> his involvement in the revision of the 1549 Book of Common Prayer,'° his epistolary relationship with Peter Martyr Vermigli,'" and his sojourn in Cambridge.'®
Amos has also contributed an essay on Bucer's understanding of the relationship between civil and canon law and biblical law as it is seen in De
Regno Christi.'? Furthermore, Amos's recent Ph.D. dissertation has focused attention on Bucer's lectures on Ephesians, given during his tenure as Regius Professor of Divinity at the University of Cambridge between January 1550 and early 1551.5° While the thesis is more concerned with the lectures as an exercise in the teaching and practice of theology in the light of biblical humanism, it has also further extended our knowledge of Bucer's tenure as Regius Professor.
Going beyond the studies previously mentioned, Andreas Gaumann has attempted a "comprehensive survey of Bucer's Reformation thought and
New Insights 24a action and his relationship to civil authority."*! In his view, all theological convictions of the Strasbourg reformer converge in the concept of regnum
Christi, which is capable of subsuming his understandings of Christology, ecclesiology, law, justification, sanctification, ethics, as well as his assessment of temporal authority. We are informed that cooperation with the civil authorities—for Bucer, a clear theological necessity—succeeded for the most part in establishing the Reformation in Strasbourg, but not when it came to persecuting "dissidents" and setting up an autonomous system of church discipline. Bucer's activities outside of Strasbourg are also interpreted as efforts to extend the regnum Christi.
Giumann manages to draw up systematically sharp, vivid, and convincing theses, yet he does this at the cost of historical simplification. His assessment of Bucer is strangely contradictory: Was the Strasbourg reformer "fanatical"®? or exceedingly "accommodating and conciliatory"?**
The two are hardly compatible. Gaumann's systematic and theoretical approach to his topic allows little room for the nuances made necessary by attention to technical details. This is particularly obvious regarding the topic of church discipline. As much as Bucer emphasized the church's independence from temporal authorities in exercising ecclesiastical discipline, he was also capable of claiming with the same vehemence that church discipline was the responsibility of government and could be carried out in only cooperation with the authorities. Indeed, Bucer's thought and action can hardly be subsumed under one concept, even if it is one as central to his theology as that of regnum Christi.
Finally, Willem van 't Spijker offers some reflections on Bucer's theological legacy on the basis of his last wills and testaments of the years 1541,
1548, and 1551 (see chapter 8).** As we have seen throughout this book, Martin Bucer's personality was too intricate and dynamic for us to be able to reduce it to a simple, clearcut common denominator. Continuing research of his theology and work shows that the two were characterized not just by tension but by open contradictions. Bucer undeniably underwent changes of many different kinds in the course of his lifetime. Yet there are also essential features of his thought and action that remained unchanged. One reality does not exclude the other. In Bucer, in fact, the two are intricately intertwined. Perhaps the intensity of such contrasts is precisely the hallmark of great spirits. In any case, it fosters unremitting interest in the life and work of this reformer.
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Notes Chapter I Quoted in Lebeau and Valentin, L'Alsace, p. 306; see also Ammann, "Wirtschaftsgeltung"; Barth, Rebbau; Gény, Reichsstadt. The German name of Sélestat is Schlettstadt.
Ns . Gény, Reichsstadt, esp. pp. 84-86.
. Ibid., p. 17; see also Adam, Histoire.
. Adam, L'humanisme; Knepper, Schulund Unterrichtswesen, Kohls, Schule, pp. 23-28.
. Gebwiler, Schlettstadter Chronik, p. 29.
. Adam, L'humanisme, p. 538.
_ Modern German edition by O. Herding, Munich 1965.
_ As a foreword to Lefévre's edition of Aristotle's Physics, printed in 1514. See Knepper,
OSE OS Ur ed Wrlkd Schulund Unterrichtswesen, pp. 3 19ff.
9. Gebwiler, Schlettstadter Chronik, p. 28.
_ This is how Bucer spelled his family name, especially when writing in German. Modern scholarship has opted for the latinized form used simultaneously by Bucer himself.
One also encounters the forms Bucerus, Bucaerus, Buczer, and even the grecized form
Boukeros.
. Gény, Schlettstadter Stadtrechte, p. 683.
_ Zinsbuch der Stadt Schlettstadt, Strasbourg, Archives de Hopital, H 2, fol. 16¥.
. Biirgerbuch (citizenship registry) der Stadt Schlettstadt, Archives de Sélestat, BB 45, 217. mlpIG DBA), 222; _ Martin Bucer, Der CXX. Psalm (Strasbourg, 1546), fol. F 4" (BDS 17, p. 61,7-11).
. Ammann, "Wirtschaftsgeltung," p. 99.
- Since his name was not entered into the Sélestat Biirgerbuch (citizenship registry) until
1480, it is probable that he lived in another city previously.
. Biirgerbuch (citizenship registry) der Stadt Schlettstadt, Archives de Sélestat, BB 45, 229.
. Livre de bourgeoisie, vol. 2, no. 5846.
. Strasbourg, Archives de ' Hopital, 591, fol. 91°, 93°94".
. See BDS 1, p. 281,14-15.
. See note 20, above, and the diary of Dr. J. von Gottesheim, p. 278.