11. The German Reformation: Luther and Colleagues

I often wonder how I might have responded to the whirlwind of reform in sixteenth-century Germany. It is muddled and messy and mean-spirited, virtually devoid of the pious saints we imagine inspiring a reformation.

I sometimes play a little game with myself. What if I were not so different from who I am but living five hundred years ago in the German homeland? As an educated woman, I might have been a Roman Catholic nun. How then would I have responded to the Reformation? Would I have reacted like many nuns did and resisted any attempt to force “freedom” onto me? Would I have clung tightly to the bonded community of the convent? Or would I have conspired to escape in the dark of the night, hidden on a wagon designed to carry herring barrels?

So it was with Katherine von Bora—a nun who welcomed what she perceived to be freedom and biblical truth associated with Luther and reform. Like the feisty, outspoken Katie, might I have been the last one for whom a husband could be procured and have ended up married to Luther? Like her, might I have been more than a house frau and had a little farm of my own—entirely outside my famous husband’s oversight? I think I would have enjoyed overseeing a manse with lively little ones underfoot and celebrated scholars and students coming and going. But being the house frau of Martin Luther would have been a most difficult role. Katie Luther holds my deepest admiration and sympathy.

So I ask myself: Would I have held true to tradition, courageously refusing to bow to this new “heresy,” or would I have heralded a new day, thumbing my nose at the convent, never looking back? For me the answer is easy. On my father’s side, I come from a long line of German Lutherans. I am in personality and in spirit and in heritage a true daughter of the Reformation. I would have relished being at the center of theological turmoil in the very foundational years of this momentous movement.

The influence Luther has had on my heritage and on that of all Protestants is enormous and difficult to exaggerate. Thus, I devote an entire chapter to his life and ministry and closest colleagues.

We desert historical experience whenever we … abstract a moment in the historical world and think of it as the cause of the whole or any part of what remains. Thus, every historical event is necessary, and it is impossible to distinguish between the importance of necessities.

MICHAEL OAKESHOTT

The posting by Martin Luther of his Ninety-five Theses to the church door in Wittenberg, on October 31, 1517, is for Protestants a most significant historical event. We desert historical experience, however, when we single out such a moment in the historical world and think of it as the cause of the Reformation. Does that date really rise above other moments? Are there not other seemingly random moments that are also necessary precursors to that one so-called big event? We must be cautious about singling out any one moment as a definitive marker in the course of history.

The sixteenth century encompassed much more than the Protestant Reformation. It is one important aspect in the centuries-long Renaissance that had begun in the late fourteenth century. The Renaissance provided a foundational worldview without which the Reformation might have faltered. Humanism opened the curtain of the Greek scriptures and the early church. Reform was an inevitable outcome. If Luther had not risen up, someone else would have. He stood above all others, yet he was surely no one-man show. Key individuals played significant roles alongside him in the German Reformation, including Katherine von Bora, Philip Melanchthon, Argula von Stauffer, and Katherine Zell.

There is a class difference between leading Reformers and medieval monastic leaders. One after another — from Rrancis and Dominic to Catherine and Hildegard — monastic leaders came from aristocratic backgrounds. The Reformers, on the other hand, rose out of peasant stock and the new mercantile or middle class, as in the case of Martin Luther. While retaining many medieval traits, Reformers were nevertheless children of the Renaissance. They did not accept the given wisdom of tradition without challenge, having more in common with Peter Abelard than with Bernard of Clairvaux and other monastic scholars.

Yet it is a mistake to imagine that the Protestant Reformation set the stage for modern man and heralded a new age. It did not. The Magisterial Reformation, as represented by Luther, Zwingli, and Calvin, holds fast to the Christendom of earlier centuries The visible Christian church is viewed as being essentially the same as the surrounding society A town resident is presumed a church member and a Christian Old beliefs and values and medieval customs are ever present In the 1540s witch burnings are conducted in Protestant Wittenberg, and more than forty women are executed in Calvin’s Geneva Indeed, religious persecution is rife in this medieval world of the sixteenth century The Enlightenment is still far in the future.

PARADE OF HISTORY

The march toward Protestantism is not the only sixteenth-century parade in town. Indeed, the pomp and ceremony of the Catholic Church never slows. And provoking the need for reform are the likes of the Dominican friar Johann Tetzel, who parades through towns with fanfare and catchy jingles and good deals on indulgences. But the most momentous parade marking the Protestant movement is the twenty-mile procession from Wittenberg to Leipzig. Luther, accompanied by a regiment of armed students, goes head to head with the Catholic scholar, John Eck.

LUTHER AND THE PRINTING PRESS

The question is impossible to answer, but that hasn’t kept those who study religion and mass media from asking it: Would the Protestant Reformation have happened without the invention of moveable type?

While stopping short of directly linking Martin Luther and Johannes Gutenberg, members of the Religion Newswriters Association of America have selected the Protestant Reformation and the invention of the printing press as the top events in a poll to determine the top 10 religion stories of the Second Millennium.

“There were all kinds of reform movements before Martin Luther and there were other reformers hard at work all around him,” said Lutheran scholar Martin Marty….”But Luther is a dramatic leader who comes along and is in the right place at the right time. So, for a lot of reasons, it is the revolt of the junior faculty at the University of Wittenberg that gets the attention. Luther becomes the symbol of an entire era of change.”

Terry Mattingly, “Luther Meets the Printing Press,” newspaper column, 1999

The religious debates of the Reformation meld with matters of state The church is far more than a religious entity, and if the church loses stability, so goes the state If the pope is not supreme ruler over religious life, what authority does an emperor — or a landlord — possess? The sixteenth-century mind did not naturally separate religious matters from political, social, and economic issues The church had wielded power over virtually every aspect of life If the power of the church is broken, should not authority in general be challenged?

Luther was not interested in expanding the Reformation beyond religious or theological issues He was a conservative, fearful of societal change That peasants and other interest groups should imagine reform as changing their everyday lives was a natural assumption, however. Demands for social and political reforms interfaced with religious reform, all stimulated by easy access to printed materials Any literate and intellectually curious individual could aspire to write a pamphlet proposing changes in economic conditions or biblical understandings It was a heady—and dangerous — time.

With the sixteenth century came societal instability that had been a long time in the making The interdependency of medieval life was unraveling in favor of budding individualism Full-fledged capitalism was far in the future, but the competitiveness of a capitalist spirit was on the increase, while the old “honor” system was on the decline Even the lowliest peasant contemplated working for himself, making a profit, and rising in social status.

In the two centuries prior to 1500, the population of Western Europe has increased by upwards of fifty percent Towns have grown in size, as the aristocratic classes are shrinking in numbers, and wealth in the middle-class that consisted of artisans and merchants and farmers and academics is on the rise Money is more readily accessible and gun powder has revolutionized warfare Novelties are waiting to be invented by clever minds and skillful hands Overseas discoveries and dreams of sailing to a promised land capture the imaginations of young men There is an excitement in the air The future is anything but predictable.

EVERYDAY LIFE

The Sixteenth-Century Book Business

The printing press with ingenious movable type was nothing short of a media revolution in Western Europe. Although it was first introduced to Europe (in part through ideas from China) in the 1440s, not until the sixteenth century did it begin to effect a large-scale societal transformation. At the same time paper production was becoming less expensive, and new and better formulas for ink were widely available.

Prior to 1500 there were approximately one hundred printed editions of the Bible. Most of the other books that had been printed were academic tomes. In the decade before 1517, German printers issued an average of forty books a year; in the years that followed, the number surged to some five hundred a year. Much of the credit for the rapid expansion of printing rightly goes to Johannes Gutenberg (1398 – 1468). He was an inventive and far-sighted goldsmith who used ideas of others and launched a new industry that spurred countless innovations in the decades that followed. His printing of the Bible was the pinnacle of his success. The Gutenberg Bible, a printed edition of the Latin Vulgate, will forever be associated with his name.

If a Latin Bible was now available in book form, why not an English Bible or a German Bible? The possibilities were endless. And why not the writings of the church fathers and Aquinas and even Aristotle? The next step: Why not my writings? The first books consisted of the writings of others. But as one generation flows into another, ordinary monks like Martin Luther can write bestsellers. Indeed, Luther transforms the publishing business. He writes primarily in the vernacular (German rather than Latin) and publishes booklets (typically of 32 pages, including illustrations). He is far and away the most prolific writer of these Flugschriften, or flying writings, as they were called. But others catch on quickly, realizing there is money to be made. In fact, some of these booklets contain Luther’s sermons that others have transcribed, thus denying him potential earnings. But there are no copyright laws governing such theft.

Sixteenth-century printing press in Germany

Printing booklets is only the first step in launching a bestseller. Marketing is a critical element. Prior to Luther’s religious revolution, getting the word out was a difficult aspect of publishing. The Frankfurt Book Fair had its origins as far back as the eleventh century, but it had a slow start. By the third decade of the sixteenth century, it was rapidly gaining momentum, and Luther’s books were quickly snatched up. Most of his writings, however, were peddled by booksellers. With word-of-mouth publicity, booksellers often ran out of stock within days or weeks — if not hours. Bookselling was a rapidly expanding business that never looked back. The early “bookstores” were covered wagons pulled by a donkey driven from town to town. Indeed, the donkey played an important role in the Reformation.

The time is ripe for the volcanic activity of the Protestant Reformation The groundswell of public reaction against the church merges with a new sense of spiritual independence As education and books become more readily available, ordinary individuals are eager to openly study and discuss and debate issues of faith The “democratic” religion of Wycliffe and Hus — religion that offered “vulgar” Bible translations to the rabble — was shunned by church leaders The Bible, they argued, belongs not to the people but to the parish priest The spiritual secrets of Scripture, like the money given for indulgences, are hoarded by the church hierarchy But all that changes with one very innocuous act by a little-known German monk Within a decade, there is a mindset among vast numbers of people that religion is not simply a received tradition belonging only to the clerics It requires thinking and choosing It is as frightening as it is exhilarating.

Martin Luther: Premier Protestant Reformer

Vast numbers of Christians during and following the Reformation viewed Martin Luther (1483 – 1546) as a heretic and worse. King Henry VIII pronounced him the antichrist. Heinrich Bullinger, a Swiss Reformer and a contemporary, lamented his “muddy and swinish, vulgar and coarse teachings.” In fact, “no one has ever written more vulgarly, more coarsely, more unbecomingly in matters of faith and Christian chastity and modesty and in all serious matters than Luther.” To Pope Leo X, he was a wild boar and more. Jews and many poor peasants, for good reason, despised him.

Martin Luther

Luther is an enigma. His own best friends and strongest supporters were troubled by his outrageous conduct, and since his death he has not attained a reputation for piety that Christians bestow on dead saints. Brash and vulgar, he possessed dogged faith and deep convictions, relentlessly pursuing the truth. He earned his rank as first among Reformers not because of his personality and lifestyle but because of his success in tackling the errors of the church. He was a warring soldier for whom Scripture was his sword.

Luther was the first of seven children born to Hans and Grethe Luther of Eisleben. Having risen out of peasant stock, the family soon moved to the town of Mansfeld, where Hans supervised his own copper-mining operation and later served on the town council. With a large family, however, the living standard remained humble. At age five young Martin entered the local Latin school, and at fourteen he left home to attend Magdeburg, a nearby boarding school conducted by the Brethren of the Common life.

He later recalled his parents as strict disciplinarians, his father once beating him so badly that he ran away from home. I was so “embittered against him that he had to win me to himself again.” Nor could he escape to his mother for protection. On one occasion, she “on account of [my stealing] an insignificant nut, beat me till the blood flowed, and it was this harshness and severity of the life I led with them that forced me subsequently to run away to a monastery and become a monk.” At eighteen, he entered the University of Erfurt, where he excelled in studies, acquiring the nickname “Philosophus.” He lived austerely, avoiding the “scent of wine, beer, and wenches” that were readily available. He relished the pomp and prestige of the academic life: “What a moment of majesty and splendor was that, when one took the degree of Master, and torches were carried before, and honor was paid one. I consider that no temporal or worldly joy can equal it.”

Then suddenly, on a hot July day in 1505, the course of his life changed. The story — or legend — is familiar. On his way back to Erfurt, following a visit with his family, booming cracks of thunder terrify him. Then his worst nightmare occurs. A bolt of lightening strikes him to the ground. In a moment of fright, he cries out, “St. Anne help me! I will become a monk.” Why pray to this legendary mother of the Virgin Mary? Perhaps because she is the patron saint of his father and all miners. But why in this instant at death’s door does he vow to become a monk? One wonders if the ascetic life of the monastery is already on his mind.

Yet Luther’s decision to enter a monastery is nothing short of radical. On his graduation only two months earlier, his anti-clerical father had given him a costly volume to help him prepare for a career in law. Now he turns away from any hope of success to pursue life as an ascetic — a contemptible monk. Nor does he move ahead half-heartedly. Of the twenty monasteries in Erfurt, he chooses the Augustinian cloister, known for its strict adherence to the rule. He reveals his resolution to friends and enjoys one last occasion to drink and sing with them before he enters the gate.

As a monk, he goes above and beyond the call of duty in prayers, fasting, self-scourging, and sacrifice — denying himself clothing and blankets in winter. “I was a pious monk, and so strictly observed the rules,” he later recalled, “that if ever a monk got into heaven by monkery, so should I also have gotten there.” After a year of probation he takes vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; and the following year, in 1507, he is officially ordained to the priesthood. His first Mass affects him deeply. Reflecting on the eternal God, he nearly breaks down.”At these words I was utterly stupefied and terrorstricken,” he remembered. “With what tongue shall I address such Majesty, seeing that all men ought to tremble in the presence of even an earthly prince?” He acknowledges his inadequacy. “Who am I, that I should lift up my eyes or raise my hands to the divine Majesty?” he wonders.”For I am dust and ashes and full of sin and I am speaking to the living, eternal and the true God.”

Market square in Wittenberg

In the following years he buries himself in books and teaches at the universities of Erfurt and Wittenberg, all the while preparing for and passing exams for his doctoral degree.But despite his striving, he cannot live up to the standard of holiness God requires. He goes to confession daily, sometimes straining the patience of his confessor, dredging up sins from long ago. He takes a pilgrimage to Rome, climbing Pilate’s stairs on his knees, repeating the Pater Noster (Lord’s Prayer) at every step, hoping to decrease his time in purgatory. He is shocked by the moral laxity and insincerity of priests and church leaders.

JOHANN VON STAUPITZ: LUTHER’S CATHOLIC FRIEND AND MENTOR

One of the most neglected saints of the Reformation is Johann von Staupitz (1486 – 1543), whose years closely parallel Luther’s. His position as the head of the German Augustinians is critical to Luther’s early spiritual development. He recognizes the monk’s brilliance and seeks to soften the sharp edges of his personality. Luther is grateful: “If it had not been for Dr. Staupitz, I should have sunk in hell.” Even after Luther is in the thick of the battle, Staupitz shows deep concern: “The world hates the truth. By such hate Christ was crucified, and what there is in store for you today if not the cross I do not know.” His deepest longing is for some sort of compromise between the two sides. “Do not denounce points of indifference which can be held in sincerity,” he pleads. “We owe much to you, Martin.” Though remaining a devout Catholic to his last breadth, his own books — all with a devotional slant — are included on the Index of Prohibited Books in 1559.

FINDING A GATE TO HEAVEN

I greatly longed to understand Paul’s Epistle to the Romans and nothing stood in the way but that one expression, “the justice of God,” because I took it to mean that justice whereby God is just and deals justly in punishing the unjust…. Night and day I pondered until I saw the connection between the justice of God and the statement that “the just shall live by his faith.” Then I grasped that the justice of God is that righteousness by which through grace and sheer mercy God justifies us through faith. Thereupon I felt myself to be reborn and to have gone through open doors into paradise. The whole Scripture took on a new meaning, and whereas before the “justice of God” had filled me with hate, now it became to me inexpressibly sweet in greater love. This passage of Paul became to me a gate to heaven.

Martin Luther

As an Augustinian monk, Luther carefully studies Augustine and his emphasis on original sin “I was born,” he writes, “indeed conceived and formed in the womb, as a sinner “ Does such original sin make him any less guilty? Not at all. God’s “fury or wrath toward … sinners is … immeasurable and infinite.” But in 1515, now in his early thirties, while he is teaching at the University of Wittenberg, he begins to comprehend the doctrine of justification in a different light.

The strict monastic regimen and the new spiritual insights collide He is living in a system that denies the very doctrine of justification by faith alone that Paul is teaching in Romans It is a system further scandalized by the purchase of indulgences His disgust with indulgences was prompted not only by his insights from Romans but also by the blatant hawking of them by the popular preacher Johann Tetzel A Dominican monastic leader and an agent of the Inquisition, Tetzel deliberately appeals to the superstitious mentalities of the poorest and least-educated Christians To them he is a celebrity But even magistrates and monks fall under his spell Indeed, as he enters towns, priests lead the procession to meet him, bells ringing and banners waving.

Rorbidden by Rrederick, Elector of Saxony, to make his sales pitch inside the gates of the city Wittenberg, Tetzel sets up shop outside town. His scheme is straightforward He reminds his listeners that dear ones have passed on without their sins forgiven and are suffering in purgatory His emotional plea is enhanced with catchy jingles: “As soon as the coin in the coffer rings, the soul from purgatory springs “ For all his fanfare, Tetzel’s role in the Reformation was a minor one But to Luther, he exemplified what was wrong with the church.

On October 31, 1517, when Luther nailed his now-famous Ninety-five Theses to the Castle Church door in Wittenberg, he was a committed Roman Catholic, insisting he was being true to the church: “Nor do we believe we have said anything that is not in agreement with the Catholic church and the ancient doctors of the church “ His actions were anything but a sudden outburst of provocation Eight months earlier, in fact, he had delivered a message in the Castle Church condemning indulgences, a stance potentially affecting his own job security, since funds for the university come in part from indulgences sold by the Castle Church. The massive collection of relics was impressive, including a piece of bread blessed by Jesus at the Last Supper and some twenty thousand other relics with the combined capacity for reducing time in purgatory by nearly two million years.

Some of Luther’s Ninety-five Theses, such as thesis 36, appear mild: “Any truly repentant Christian has a right to full remission of penalty and guilt, even without indulgence letters.” Others are strongly worded, as is thesis 32: “Those who believe that they can be certain of their salvation because they have indulgence letters will be eternally damned, together with their teachers.” When he posted the document, he did not imagine it would become a pamphlet for the masses. Indeed, it might have been written differently had that been his intention. Rather, he composed it for the purpose of inviting scholarly disputation. But what initially belonged to him quickly became the possession of ordinary people. The presses could not print the document fast enough.

As the news of his protest spreads, warring camps quickly consolidate. Leading the support are those who resent the wealth and arrogance of the church. Opposing him are those who depend on the sprawling institution for their very livelihoods. Indeed, the opposition is fierce. The Dominican Tetzel vows to defeat Luther (half his age) by his own tactics. Within weeks after Luther posted his theses, Tetzel counters with One Hundred and Six Anti-Theses — a document Luther’s supporters promptly burn in protest. The ferment only complicates Luther’s already frenzied schedule.

The Holy Roman Empire

I could use two secretaries. I do almost nothing during the day but write letters. I am a conventual preacher, reader at meals, parochial preacher, director of studies, overseer of eleven monasteries, superintendent of the fish pond at Litzkau, referee of the squabble at Torgau, lecturer on Paul, collector of material for a commentary on the Psalms, and then, as I said, I am overwhelmed with letters. I rarely have full time for the canonical hours and for saying mass, not to mention my own temptations with the world, the flesh, and the Devil. You see how lazy I am.

In the months that follow, events move swiftly. Threats and rumors fly as scholars schedule debates and write treatises and counter-treatises. In April of 1518, Johann von Staupitz invites Luther to appear at the annual meeting of the German Augustinians. Here Luther challenges fellow Augustinians with biblical insights drawn in part from St. Augustine himself. Among those present at the gathering is Martin Bucer, who will later become the key Reformer of Strasbourg. In a letter to Luther, he writes that this was the first time he had ever heard “the theology of the cross.” Later that year, Cardinal Cajetan, a Dominican acting as the pope’s representative, orders Luther to appear before him, convinced the matter is of little significance and will quickly blow over. During the three days of meetings, they focus on what will become the key issue of the Reformation: Where does authority lie? Is the pope the supreme spiritual authority, or is Scripture? The meetings end when the cardinal orders Luther out of his presence. Luther returns to Wittenberg and remarks to his friends that the cardinal was “no more fitted to handle the case than an ass to play a harp.”

In 1519, after being released from his Augustinian vows, Luther accepts a challenge to debate Professor John Eck from Ingolstadt University. The setting is Leipzig University. Tensions are running high. Multitudes are pouring into town. Luther arrives, protected by two hundred armed students. The debate focuses on purgatory, papal infallibility, and authority. As a biblical scholar, Luther emphasizes the lack of scriptural support for purgatory and indulgences. Does the pope err? Of course, just like the apostle Peter. For Eck the task of correlating centuries of church tradition with the Bible is most difficult. In the end, the two-week debate serves to heighten Luther’s credibility and to inspire his followers. Among those who stand with him are fellow professors at Wittenberg, Philip Melanchthon and Andreas Karlstadt, the latter a fiery radical whom Luther describes as “hotter in the matter than I.” Not so Melanchthon. Luther writes:

I have been born to war, and fight with factions and devils; therefore, my books are stormy and warlike. I must root out the stumps and stocks, cut away the thorns and hedges, fill up the ditches, and am the rough forester to break a path and make things ready. But Master Philip walks softly and silently, tills and plants, sows and waters with pleasure, as God has gifted him richly.

Luther’s “stormy and warlike” books add to his prestige among the German people and effectively communicate his evangelical faith.

1520 is a productive year. In August, he publishes Address to the German Nobility, arguing that reform will never come through the corrupt church hierarchy, but rather through Christian rulers. In October, he publishes The Babylonian Captivity of the Church, questioning the validity of the sacraments except for baptism and the Lord’s Supper—and at this point in his ecclesiastical career, penance. He argues that transubstantiation and the sacrifice of the Mass (the priest’s offering of Christ on the altar as a propitiation for sin) are false teachings. In November, he publishes On the Freedom of the Christian, insisting that the natural response to God’s free grace is faith and loving service. The publication of these books and his continued defiance of papal authority prompts direct action from Pope Leo X, who issues a papal bull ordering Luther to recant or face excommunication. Accompanying this decree is Leo’s rationale:

Arise, O Lord, and judge the cause. A wild boar has invaded thy vineyard. Arise, O Peter, and consider the case of the Holy Roman Church, the mother of all churches, consecrated by thy blood…. Arise, all ye saints, and the whole universal Church, whose interpretation of Scripture has been assailed. We can scarcely express our grief over the ancient heresies which have been revived in Germany…. We can no longer suffer the serpent to creep through the field of the Lord. The books of Martin Luther which contain these errors are to be examined and burned.

The response is vintage Luther. Joined by his students and colleagues, he throws the bull into the flames. Weeks later, on a cold winter day in January of 1521, he is officially excommunicated. Following his excommunication, Emperor Charles V summons him to appear before the Diet of Worms. The emperor is in a precarious position. He does not wish to defend a “heretic” and anger the pope, nor does he wish to alienate Luther’s growing list of supporters. Although there are other issues before this assembly of Germany’s leading nobles and churchmen, this controversy takes center stage. “All Germany is up in arms against Rome,” laments Jerome Alexander, the papal envoy. “I cannot go out in the streets but the Germans put their hands to their swords and gnash their teeth at me.”

When Luther finally appears before the Diet nearly three months after it has convened, his nerves are frayed and he is tempted to recant, remembering the fate of Jan Hus. On the second day, however, when asked to recant, he boldly asserts that he would recant only that which could be proven contrary to the Bible. To this the Archbishop of Trier responds that heretics — including Wycliffe and Hus — have all used this excuse. Again he demands that Luther recant. Luther’s response is memorable: “My conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and I will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. Here I stand. I cannot do otherwise. God help me. Amen.” The exact wording has been debated but never the meaning. The die is cast. Institutionalized Christianity will never be the same again.

COUNSEL FOR THOSE FEELING ABANDONED BY GOD

If God hides himself in the storm clouds which brood over the brow of Sinai, then gather about the manger, look upon the infant Jesus as he leaps in the lap of his mother, and know that the hope of the world is here. Or again, if Christ and God alike are unapproachable, then look upon the firmament of the heavens and marvel at the work of God, who sustains them without pillars. Or take the meanest flower and see in the smallest petal the handiwork of God.

Martin Luther

The church and the emperor respond with the Edict of Worms, condemning him as a heretic and pronouncing him an outlaw and a target for death on the spot. Luther’s supporters rightly fear for his life. Under the cover of darkness, agents of Frederick the Wise (Luther’s prince who had refused to sign the edict), kidnap him, jostling him away to a secure hideout at a castle in Wartburg. Here he is in safekeeping and finds much-needed time to translate the New Testament into German. He also battles boredom, physical maladies, and Satan, at whom he reportedly hurls an inkpot.

Despite this secure sabbatical Luther is frustrated. The translation is thorny and laborious: “I sweat blood and water in my efforts to render the Prophets into the vulgar tongue. Good God! What a labor to make those Jew writers speak German. They struggle furiously against giving up their beautiful language to our barbaric idiom. It is as though you would force a nightingale to forget her sweet melody and sing like a cuckoo.” Finally, depressed and lonely for friends and colleagues, he can stand the enforced confinement no longer. “I had rather burn on live coals,” he laments, “than rot here…. I want to be in the fray.”

“Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world.”

Martin Luther

The “fray” that Luther is missing involves many whom he perceives as “radicals,” including his friend Andreas Karlstadt from Wittenberg. Three years younger than Luther, Karlstadt is neither a monk nor a priest. Having received his doctorate in 1510, he had become the chancellor of Wittenberg University and awarded Luther his doctorate. He and Luther had traveled together to the Diet of Worms. But Karlstadt had returned to Wittenberg, and, while Luther is hiding out, he unfurls the Reformation flag. On Christmas Day 1521, he administers the Lord’s Supper without Catholic ritual and meaning. Speaking in German, he offers both bread and wine to those present. Nor does he wear clerical vestments. Three weeks later at thirty-five he marries Anna, half his age. Identifying himself as “Brother Andreas,” he repudiates his doctoral degree and dresses like a commoner.

Peasants living a typical country life

When Luther returns from his confinement in Wartburg, he is stunned by the momentum of reform. Monks and priests are abandoning their vestments and vigils and vows of celibacy; hoodlums are wreaking havoc on churches, smashing images and altars. He rails against Karlstadt, publicly renouncing him as a dangerous sectarian. In the following years they carry on a love-hate relationship. While Luther’s fame rises, Karlstadt, for a time, is serving drinks at a Wittenberg pub, only later returning to Basel and his vocation of preacher and professor of Hebrew.

Besides encountering vexing church matters, Luther confronts social unrest. Nicholas Storch and Thomas Müntzer, whom he regards as rabble-rousers, are stirring discontent among peasants. Luther takes the side of the landed nobles. Never mind that the impoverished peasants have toiled on the land for generations with no redress. In an impassioned tract entitled Against the Plundering Murderous Hordes of Peasants, he writes: “Therefore let everyone who can, smite, slay, and stab, secretly or openly, remembering that nothing can be more poisonous, hurtful, or devilish than a rebel…. For baptism does not make men free in body and property, but in soul.”

In the midst of the turmoil swirling around him, Luther encounters a nun, Katherine von Bora (1499 – 1552). Born in poverty, she was reared in a tiny village near Leipzig. When she was five, her mother died, and soon after, her father remarried and sent her to a Benedictine convent to prepare for Holy Orders. Her early religious training is influenced by two aunts (one from each side of the family) — one who serves as Abbess of the convent where she takes her vows, and another who later escapes the convent with her.

Having moved to the Cistercian Convent of Nimbschem, Katie is one of forty cloistered nuns. Even relatives are not permitted to communicate except through a latticed window with the abbess close by. Silence is the rule. Friendships are forbidden. Yet despite strict supervision, Luther’s ideas penetrate the walls. For the first time, Katie dares to dream of freedom. Luther’s writings spur a conspiracy to escape. Duke George, a staunch enemy of the Reformation, controls the region. Kidnapping a nun is a capital offense. Despite the risks, the nuns send word to Luther of their plight. Knowing the potential consequences, he arranges for a merchant who sells smoked herring to make a delivery late at night and on his return trip to bring out nuns hiding in the empty — and no doubt smelly — herring barrels.

Katherine von Bora

The strategy succeeds but only adds to Luther’s problems. Some nuns return to their families, but those remaining require lodging. A cynical student in Wittenberg sums up the situation: “A wagon load of vestal virgins has just come to town all more eager for marriage than for life. May God give them husbands lest worse befall.” Luther seeks to arrange marriage for Katie with eligible bachelors, including one Kaspar Glatz. But the feisty red-head spurns the suggestion. He is much older and has a reputation for being miserly. She arranges a meeting with a colleague of Luther’s and angrily asserts that she will have nothing to do with Glatz, adding that she would be willing to marry Luther. Luther had already made his position clear to a friend: “Hitherto I have not been, and am not now inclined to take a wife. Not that I lack the feelings of a man (for I am neither wood nor stone), but my mind is averse to marriage because I daily expect the death decreed to the heretic.”

In the following months, Luther, perhaps pressured by his parents, modifies his position. Then in the summer of 1525, without formal courtship, he takes the plunge. He is forty-two; Katie is twenty-six. He later wrote: “If I had not married quickly and secretly and taken few into my confidence, everyone would have done what he could to hinder me; for all my best friends cried: ‘Not this one, but another.’“ Secrecy prior to the marriage, however, does not extend into the marriage. Indeed, his first intimate moments with Katie are anything but private. Justus Jonas, Martin Luther’s good friend, describes the scene the following day: “I was present yesterday and saw the couple on their marriage bed. As I watched this spectacle, I could not hold back my tears.” Whether Katie could hold back the tears during this “spectacle” amid onlookers is not revealed. Patrick O’Hara, one of Luther’s harshest critics, writing in 1916, blamed Luther, not custom, for “the vulgarity to lift the covers of the nuptial bed and disclose its sacred secrets to the gaze of others.”

“Before I was married the bed was not made for a whole year and became foul with sweat. But I worked so hard and was so weary I tumbled in without noticing.”

Martin Luther

At the time of his marriage, Luther is wrestling with conflict and controversy far beyond that of clerical celibacy. The most bitter battles he wages concern the Lord’s Supper. He has rejected transubstantiation in favor of his own construct of consubstantiation. He insists there is a real presence of Christ in the elements. Against Catholics, he argues that the bread and wine do not become Christ’s body and blood through the priest’s officiating of the sacrifice of the Mass. Rather, Christ’s body and blood coexist in and with the bread and wine, which are unchanged. But Luther is not only going up against Catholics. His colleague Andreas Karlstadt had published three pamphlets in 1524 rejecting the real presence in the elements. Zwingli essentially agreed with Karlstadt and began publishing his own opposition to the real presence, insisting the words, “this is my body” and “this is my blood,” mean the elements signify the body and blood.

Luther does not take the challenge lightly, suggesting in 1527 that Zwingli and others are tools of Satan. The controversy continues for more than a year, while Martin Bucer seeks to mediate and Philip of Hesse calls for a compromise in an effort to form a Protestant coalition. At the invitation of Philip, Zwingli and Luther meet at Marburg in an effort to iron out their differences. The three-day Marburg Colloquy convened in October of 1529 produced fifteen articles, fourteen of which are supported by both sides. The fifteenth, which dealt with the Eucharist, however, is the sticking point. Both Luther and Zwingli refuse to budge.

LUTHER’S CURIOUS BIBLICAL HERMENEUTICS

Luther read the New Testament in light of the Pauline message that the just shall live by faith and not by works of the law. That this doctrine is not enunciated through the New Testament with equal emphasis and appears to be denied in the book of James did not escape Luther, and in his preface to the New Testament of 1522 James was stigmatized as “an epistle of straw.” … The conclusion was a hierarchy of values within the New Testament. First Luther would place the Gospel of John, then the Pauline Epistles and First Peter, after them the three other Gospels, and in a subordinate place Hebrews, James, Jude, and Revelation. He mistrusted Revelation because of its obscurity. “A revelation,” said he, “should be revealing.” …

If the New Testament was for Luther a Pauline book, the Old Testament was a Christian book…. The Old Testament foreshadowed the drama of redemption. Adam exemplified the depravity of man. Noah tasted the wrath of God, Abraham was saved by faith, and David exhibited contrition. The pre-existent Christ was working throughout the Old Testament.

Roland Bainton, Here I Stand: A Life of Martin Luther

Another theological issue that rears its head is free will versus the sovereignty of God. Luther’s chief opponent is Erasmus, who argues that an individual’s freedom to make choices and carry them out demonstrates free will. “The human will is like a beast between [God and Satan],” Luther asserts. “If God sits on it, it wills and goes where God wills to go…. If Satan sits on it, it wills and goes where Satan wills. Nor does it have the power to choose which rider it will go to or seek, but the riders struggle over which of them will have it or rule it.” As with the Eucharist, Luther regards those who disagree to be agents of Satan.

As he settles into the routine of family life, Luther continues his career as teacher and pastor. In 1527, he could look back at a fast-paced decade. Beginning with his posting of his Ninety-five Theses, he had publicly debated and defended himself before church authorities; he had fought the Catholics, the radicals, the peasants, and fellow-reformers; he had written pamphlets and books and catechisms, translated the New Testament, begun composing a great hymn (“A Mighty Fortress”), married a nun, and welcomed his first son into the world. All this took its toll. By his early forties he was frequently ill, sometimes paralyzed by depression and doubt. “I spent more than a week in death and in hell,” he confided. “My entire body was in pain, and I still tremble. Completely abandoned by Christ, I labored under the vacillations and storms of desperation and blasphemy against God. But through the prayers of the saints God began to have mercy on me and pulled my soul from the inferno below.”

ON COMMUNION

If any one shall say that, in the most holy sacrament of the Eucharist, there remains the substance of bread and wine together with the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ; and shall deny that wonderful and singular conversion of the whole substance of the bread into the body, and of the whole substance of the wine into the blood, the species of bread and wine alone remaining, which conversion the Catholic Church most fittingly calls Transubstantiation, let him be anathema.

Council of Trent, 1551

____________

Before I drink mere wine with the Swiss I shall drink blood with the pope.

Martin Luther

____________

Every time Luther mentions the Lord’s Supper he has in mind something that a butcher handles.

John Calvin

____________

It is indeed true that this same grace is offered us by the gospel, yet as in the Supper we have more ample certainty, and fuller enjoyment of it, with good cause do we recognize this fruit as coming from it.

John Calvin

____________

But when you come to the Lord’s Supper … and along with the brethren partake of the bread and wine which are the symbols of the body of Christ, then you eat him sacramentally, in the proper sense of the term, when you do internally what you represent externally, when your heart is refreshed by this faith to which you bear witness by these symbols.

Ulrich Zwingli

FIRST DOG OF THE REFORMATION

Luther’s much beloved dog Tolpel is a household favorite among children and adult company and is often referred to by guests. Like many house dogs, Tolpel patiently waits for table scraps, behavior that Luther turns into an object lesson: “Oh, if I could only pray the way this dog watches the meat!.”

Despite such torment, the Luther parsonage is an invigorating center of activity. Here in a former monastery, students and seasoned scholars drink beer, debate theology, and deride the Church of Rome. Here the Luthers raise their boisterous brood of a half-dozen children whose laughter and scrapping fills the once-solemn halls. Family life is a source of pride for Protestants. Indeed, when first-born son Hans arrives in the summer of 1526, some celebrate it as a national event — as does Luther himself. “When I’m writing,” Luther tells his students, “my Hans sings a little tune for me. If he becomes too noisy and I rebuke him a little for it, he continues to sing but does it more privately.” When Katie was busy tending her brewery or traveling to oversee her farm, he baby-sits On. one occasion, he moaned: “Christ said we must become as little children to enter the kingdom of heaven. Dear God, have we got to become such idiots?.”

In addition to their own children, the Luthers welcome many others, some of whom became permanent residents. An observer described the atmosphere to a German prince who was contemplating a visit to the Wittenberg parsonage:

The home of Luther is occupied by a motley crowd of boys, students, girls, widows, old women, and youngsters. For this reason there is much disturbance in the place, and many regret it for the sake of the good man, the honorable father. If but the spirit of the Doctor Luther lived in all of these, his house would offer you an agreeable, friendly quarter for a few days so that your Grace would be able to enjoy the hospitality of that man. But as the situation now stands and as circumstances exist in the household of Luther, I would not advise that your Grace stop there.

Luther is known for what are rightly labeled sexist remarks about women. “Take women from their housewifery,” he quipped, “and they are good for nothing.” Yet he frequently praised Katie, fondly referring to her as “King and dear lord and master, Katy, Lutheress, doctoress, and priestess, of Wittenberg.” But he does not grow old gracefully. (Nor are his younger years graceful, as Eric Erickson graphically pointed out in a psychological study entitled Young Man Luther.) Friends stay away because, as one reports, “hardly one of us can escape his anger and his public scourging.” Even Melanchthon flinches and feels abused by his irate outbursts. During these years, Luther’s vitriolic attacks against Jews are a major embarrassment.

A MAN OF DISPUTATIONS AND DIRTY DIAPERS

O God … I confess to Thee that I am not worthy to rock the little babe or wash its diapers, or to be entrusted with the care of the child and its mother. How is it that I, without any merit, have come to this distinction of being certain that I am serving Thy creature and Thy most precious will. O how gladly will I do so, though the duties should be even more insignificant and despised.

Martin Luther

Indeed, Luther’s later writings on Jews are deplorable — words that centuries later helped prop up Adolf Hitler and offered justification for the Holocaust. Not so his early writings. His essay “That Jesus Christ Was Born a Jew,” published in 1523, is devoid of his later seething acrimony toward Jews:

If I had been a Jew and had seen such dolts and blockheads govern and teach the Christian faith, I would sooner have become a hog than a Christian. They have dealt with the Jews as if they were dogs rather than human beings; they have done little else than deride them and seize their property…. When we are inclined to boast of our position we should remember that we are but Gentiles, while the Jews are of the lineage of Christ…. If we really want to help them, we must be guided in our dealings with them not by papal law but by the law of Christian love.

Alas, this writing is not the document for which Luther’s views on Jews are remembered. His later writings are far more numerous and are those most associated with his name and ministry. Hardly a decade after this earlier work, Luther is successfully petitioning John Frederick, Prince of Saxony to enact laws forbidding Jews from conducting business, obtaining residency, or even traveling through Saxony. Seven years later, exasperated by Jews’ refusal to convert to Christianity, Luther publishes his most rancid work, On Jews and Their Lies. His vicious language is calculated to arouse hatred. They are filled with the “devil’s feces … which they wallow in like swine.” They are “poisonous envenomed worms” who should be banished from Christian lands or worse. Their homes, their schools, their synagogues should be burned. Jews, he rails, must be killed. Christians “are at fault in not slaying them.”

Far better for the Protestant cause if Luther had been martyred or had died before he wrote such vitriol. But for Katie, he died too soon. With young children and few provisions for their care, she is left impoverished. Besides financial problems, she struggles to keep her family together. A government official rules that her sons be removed from the home for their schooling. She fights to keep them and prevails. In 1552, during an epidemic in Wittenberg, she flees the town, crashing her horse carriage. Badly injured, she dies some months later at fifty-three.

LUTHER AND THE SCANDAL OF BIGAMY

Did Luther approve the practice of bigamy? Philip of Hesse, a high-ranking German ruler and supporter of the Reformation, had sought the backing of Luther and other Reformers (including Philip Melanchthon and Martin Bucer) in his plan to take a second wife, pointing to Old Testament polygamy. Not wanting to risk the loss of his support, Luther sanctions the plan, insisting it be kept secret. How to keep a secret wife, however, was apparently not part of his counsel. As rumors spread, Luther tells Philip to “tell a good, strong lie.” But the cover-up unravels. Bigamy is a capital offense and Philip fears for his life. In the end Emperor Charles V makes a deal with Philip, agreeing not to prosecute. But Philip loses power and influence in the process — including his support for the Protestant cause. And the reputations of Luther and his colleagues are sullied.

Philip Melanchthon: Gentleman German Reformer

The body of Philip Melanchthon (1497 – 1560) appropriately lies buried beside that of Martin Luther in Wittenberg. He is considered the second man — the gentleman — of the German Reformation, faithfully working alongside Luther for nearly three decades. Orphaned at ten, Melanchthon lived with his grandmother until he enrolled at the University of Heidelberg at age twelve to study philosophy, astronomy, and rhetoric. At sixteen he pursued graduate studies in theology at the University of Tübingen. A student of Erasmus, he was a published author by the time Luther (fourteen years his senior) was posting his Ninety-five Theses.

Philip Melanchthon

Melanchthon’s opposition to scholastic theology prompts him to question Catholic dogma and traditions. At the same time he learns of Luther’s insights. In 1518 he accepts a post at the University of Wittenberg, and the two scholars become life-long partners. Brilliant and popular, Melanchthon draws students much like Abelard did four centuries earlier. He is courted by other academic institutions, but with Luther and others playing cupid, he marries Katharina Krapp, daughter of the Wittenberg mayor.

One of Melanchthon’s most important achievements was his contribution, at the behest of Luther, to the Augsburg Confession. These twenty-eight articles, written in both Latin and German, were presented to Emperor Charles V, who summoned a Diet at Augsburg in 1530 to settle the religious differences among the German princes and people. Melanchthon began with his usual conciliatory style, affirming twenty-one statements accepted by both Catholics and Reformers The remaining seven articles focused on matters disputed with Catholics, all supported with Scripture. The Augsburg Confession established the German Reformation on justification by faith alone and serves today as a foundational document of Lutheran belief.

THE LIGHTER SIDE OF PROFESSOR MELANCHTHON

A visitor to the Melanchthon household one evening was surprised to see Philip reading from a book in one hand while rocking a cradle with the other, and promptly received a lecture on the duties of parenting. On a visit to Torgau for a conference among the learned, Melanchthon happened to see a woman, a deacon’s wife, with three children. One, a baby, she was nursing at her breast. The other two stood before her while she said a morning prayer. At the same time, with her right hand she managed to cut bread for the children. Melanchthon delightedly told the assembly of divines of these “three holy deeds,” these wonderful things and powerful prayers that he had seen and heard that day…. In 1529, now a married man with children, [he was spotted] dancing with the Provost’s wife at a social function. Philip and Katherine Melanchthon loved to show hospitality both to visitors and students. In particular, Philip liked students to present dramas in his home.

John Schofield, Philip Melanchthon and the English Reformation

In the remaining years of his life, Melanchthon was embroiled in family and religious difficulties Although he was considered by many to be Luther’s successor, opponents challenged his loyalty to the Reformation cause, insisting he was too eager to compromise with Catholics. Harshly criticized in his own day, he has been admired in recent generations for his keen intellect and his careful scholarship as well as for his efforts to foster unity among Christians. He was ever the patient and kind Reformer, generous to a fault.

Argula von Stauffer and Katherine Zell

One of Luther’s most outspoken defenders was Argula von Stauffer (1492 – 1563). But in the eyes of Catholic opposition, she was an “insolent daughter of Eve.” Born into landed nobility in Bavaria, she married a nobleman with whom she bore a daughter and three sons. For more than four decades she risked her life and the well-being of her family for the cause of the Reformation. She refused to be silenced, and in a letter to Catholic authorities, she demanded, “What have Luther and Melanchthon taught save the Word of God?” She taunted them for condemning him but not refuting him. In 1523, as a young mother, she boldly defended her views in a debate before the Diet of Nurnberg. The German princes, however, paid her little heed. “I am distressed,” she lamented, “that our princes take the Word of God no more seriously than a cow does a game of chess.”

Persecuted not only by state officials but also by her husband, whose political career and very livelihood are in jeopardy because of her activities, she is aware of the risk: “I understand that my husband will be deposed from his office. I can’t help it. God will feed my children as he feeds the birds and will clothe them as the lilies of the field.” Luther, writing to a friend, clearly recognizes her sacrifice:

The Duke of Bavaria rages above measure, killing, crushing and persecuting the gospel with all his might. That most noble woman, Argula von Stauffer, is there making a valiant fight with great spirit, boldness of speech and knowledge of Christ…. Her husband, who treats her tyrannically, has been deposed from his prefecture…. She alone, among these monsters, carries on with firm faith, though, she admits not without inner trembling. She is a singular instrument of Christ.

Her heroes are Old Testament women like Deborah and Esther, but she does not dismiss apparent New Testament constraints: “I am not unacquainted with the word of Paul that women should be silent in church,” she concedes, “but, when no man will or can speak, I am driven by the word of the Lord when he said, ‘He who confesses me on earth, him will I confess and he who denies me, him will I deny.’“ She breaks civil law by repeatedly conducting religious meetings in her home and officiating at clandestine funerals. She faithfully carries on Luther’s reform, outliving him by nearly two decades. The “old Staufferin,” as the Duke cynically describes her, is twice imprisoned, the last time shortly before her death at age seventy.

Another Reformer who boldly challenged the religious establishment — and sometimes her fellow Reformers — was Katherine Zell (1497 – 1562) “Ever since I was ten years old I have been a student and sort of church mother, much given to attending sermons,” she later recalled. “I have loved and frequented the company of learned men, and I conversed much with them, not about dancing, masquerades, and worldly pleasures but about the kingdom of God.”

Her decision to marry Matthew Zell, a priest-turned-Reformer, corresponds with the Reformation focus on the family. She defends the marriage, insisting it diminishes the frequent priestly sins of lust and fornication. As a minister’s wife in Strasbourg, she works with refugees fleeing persecution, providing shelter to hundreds of homeless exiles. During the Peasants’ War of 1525, she directs a vast relief program, serving some three thousand who seek refuge in Strasbourg. The Zell home is also open to some of the most celebrated Reformers of the era, including Zwingli and Calvin. But she is not star-struck by fellow Reformers. “Why do you rail at Schwenckfeld?” she demands of a Lutheran leader. “You talk as if you would have him burned like the poor Servetus at Geneva” (a swipe at Calvin). She laments that the Anabaptists — good Christians “who accept Christ in all the essentials as we do” — are “pursued as by a hunter with dogs chasing wild boars.”

Accused of becoming “Dr. Katrina” and taking over her husband’s pulpit at his death, she angrily reacts, insisting that “instead of spending my time in frivolous amusements I have visited the plague infested and … those in prison and under sentence of death,” often without eating or sleeping. She writes evangelistic tracts and devotionals as well as materials on religious education, civic reform, pastoral care, apologetics, and theology. In her spare time, she edits a hymnbook, writing:

This is not just a hymn book but a lesson book of prayer and praise. When so many filthy songs are on the lips of men and women and even children, I think it well that folk should with lusty zeal and clear voice sing the songs of their salvation. God is glad when the craftsman at his bench … the farmer at the plough … the mother at the cradle break forth in hymns of prayer, praise, and instruction.

In her final act of selfless ministry, she officiates a funeral service for a woman regarded as a “radical” — a Reformation heretic. She crawls out of her sickbed at dawn to minister at the grave-side service. When the city council hears of it, they resolve to reprimand her when she recovers. But she dies before they can officially condemn her one final time.

The German Reformation was softened by the likes of Staupitz, Melanchthon, and Katherine Zell. But Luther’s personality, for better or for worse, overpowered them all and made its indelible mark on the Reformation as a whole. Without the peculiarities of this larger-than-life man, the Reformation would not have been nearly so spellbinding—and might never have succeeded at all.

What If …

What if the Catholic Church had nipped the Reformation in the bud and Martin Luther were one more martyr following after Jan Hus? Other heretics were burned. Why not Luther?

What if Luther had recanted at the Diet of Worms? Would someone else have stepped up and taken his place? Or would the 1520s be remembered as just another futile attempt at reformation of the church?

What if the wagonload of nuns had been stopped by local law enforcement and sent back to the convent? Luther would not have married Katherine von Bora, and the Reformation focus on the family might have been dimmed.

What if Luther had maintained his early positive approach to Jews? How might that have changed his own legacy and world history?

What if Melanchthon’s position of compromise had won the day? What if Argula von Stauffer and Katherine Zell had minded their own business and not stepped out in ministry? Would the texture and tone of the Reformation have been different without them?

11. The German Reformation: Luther and Colleagues

11. The German Reformation: Luther and Colleagues

CHAPTER 11

The German Reformation

Luther and Colleagues

PARADE OF HISTORY

LUTHER AND THE PRINTING PRESS

EVERYDAY LIFE

Martin Luther: Premier Protestant Reformer

JOHANN VON STAUPITZ: LUTHER’S CATHOLIC FRIEND AND MENTOR

FINDING A GATE TO HEAVEN

COUNSEL FOR THOSE FEELING ABANDONED BY GOD

LUTHER’S CURIOUS BIBLICAL HERMENEUTICS

ON COMMUNION

FIRST DOG OF THE REFORMATION

A MAN OF DISPUTATIONS AND DIRTY DIAPERS

LUTHER AND THE SCANDAL OF BIGAMY

Philip Melanchthon: Gentleman German Reformer

THE LIGHTER SIDE OF PROFESSOR MELANCHTHON

Argula von Stauffer and Katherine Zell

What If …

Further Reading