by Donavon Riley 

When Hans Joachim Iwand took the podium during his 1941 lectures, the dust had yet to settle from Barth’s explosive critique of nineteenth century liberal theology, and Friedrich Schleiermacher in particular. Iwand’s colleagues had requested that he address the question Barth and others had raised about Christian faith and its relation to ethics. They requested that he address specifically, the relation of faith and good works.  In doing so they hoped Iwand would provide a nuanced interpretation of his friend’s verbose critique of Schleiermacher and nineteenth century Protestant theology. 

Not attempting to overturn Barth’s labor, Iwand scrutinized the church at the outset of the twentieth century using the evangelical nuances which had punctuated Martin Luther’s understanding of the relationship of faith and works, specifically the distinction between Christian faith and the Greek ethos. 

            From the first, Iwand asserted that Luther’s position provided a necessary counter to the materialist ethic of nineteenth century Protestantism.  Luther, he argued, understood ethics as personal rather than material.  Good and evil, he believed, are predicated on the person, not the work. The work is indifferent. As Luther writes:

“We confess that good works must follow faith, yes, not only must, but follow voluntarily, just as a good tree not only must produce good fruits, but does so freely.  Just as good fruits do not make the tree good, so good works do not justify the person.  But good works come from a person who has already been justified beforehand by faith, just as  good fruits come from a tree which is already good beforehand by nature.”

The question is not, “How are good works possible?” or, “How does a person become good?”  Instead, the most important question is, “How is the sinner justified?”  This latter question according to Iwand answers all previous queries.  The answer then clings entirely to faith. That is, again, “the deed does not make the person, but the person does the deed; the law does not create the deed, but informs it.” So, “even if I cannot understand how they may be separated from each other, I still know for a fact and it is most certain that the deed does not make the person, but the person the deed.”

As Iwand explained, Luther’s distinction was that “if a person were free to shape creaturely life by himself then he would also be the creator of his own spiritual personality. But that is an anti-Christian point of view and one that goes against God for those who are under the law.”

Theologians such as Friedrich Schleiermacher, and even Karl Barth, had failed to appreciate the deception worked on men and women by the law. Schleiermacher especially did not recognize that “whoever would help himself with his own works is playing creator to himself – he wants to create himself – he wants to be his own god.” Schleiermacher had distanced God from creaturely life, apologizing for the Deus absconditus without grounding his theological conclusions at Golgotha.  Without the historical event of the crucifixion, the law became the final defining character, essence, and nature of the deity: even into eternity.  Iwand saw this as the deepest loss of modern man.  That for all their reason and effort the way to new life for creatures, the “faith alone” asserted by Paul and Luther, had been disguised through a confusion of immutable law and irrevocable promise; in the synthesis of Greek humanist ethics and Christian faith. So, to clear away some of the murkiness Iwand plunged Luther’s categorical method (of thesis/antithesis) into the synthetic Enlightenment suppositions about faith and works.

According to Iwand, who follows Luther’s lead, righteousness is located not in creaturely life or work but only extra nos, that is, in Christo.  It is not, Luther writes, “through doing what is right are we righteous, but through the fact that we are justified we are able to do what is right.” That is, “one does not become righteous by doing righteous deeds. No, one does righteous deeds after becoming righteous.” The Gorgon’s knot of Aristotelian philosophy is cut loose from Christianity at exactly this point.  Iwand saw in Luther’s attack upon late medieval scholastic theology that at its heart he was encountering the place where

“the basic teachings of Greek ethics had been taken over by Christianity, namely, with the concept that virtue takes practice and discipline.  For the Greeks, virtue meant ability that was won through steadfast and conscious practice in doing right.  Strength and steadfastness of the soul acquired in this way builds character through a person’s habit – hishabitus.  Only through carefully planned undertakings that are supported by a wise education are we able to begin to develop the kind of habits that are characteristic of virtue.”

Iwand understood that the Greek system of virtue had been and continued to be such a convincing ideal that the church simply merged it with the righteousness of faith.  What results is that, “since man exercises himself in the practice of the chief Christian virtues, he attains to an inner being or condition of his nature that may be considered righteous.”

The creature can thus regain what he had lost – his right standing before God – his righteousness.  Hereafter, it was possible, even necessary, to base the practical pursuit of virtue in the supportive structures of a grace theology that assisted one in carrying out God’s will. 

For Iwand, as Luther, this is nothing other than the works of the law driving the historical event of the cross and resurrection of Christ Jesus underground: co-opting the relationship of sinner to Christ Jesus for an abstract theme wherein active creatures speak equitably with a passive God: the wellspring of the Greek ethos.  In the Christian faith, Iwand taught, the promise of the forgiveness of sins through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ pro me terminated different forms of righteousness. 

Iwand then concludes his lecture by allowing Luther to assert his own theological conclusion for the necessary distinction between Christian faith and Greek ethos – justifying faith and heavenly virtue – when he states that this is our theology

“by which we teach to distinguish both forms of righteousness – the active and the passive – so that morality and faith; works and grace; be kept within their appropriate boundaries.  Christian righteousness concerns the new person – the righteousness of the Law applies to the old person who is born out of flesh and blood.  One has to put the feedbag on him like on an ass so that he is forced to eat and cannot take in the freedom of the Spirit and of Grace… I say this so that no one thinks that we would want to do away with good works or hinder them.  We set up, so to speak, two worlds – a heavenly one and an earthly one – and in both of these we situate both forms of righteousness, but keep them strictly apart and distant from each other.” 

The legal righteousness – the righteousness of the “you should” – says Iwand, summarizing Luther’s teaching about faith and works in the Romans lectures,

“belongs to the earth and has to do with earthly things, and through it we do accomplish good works.  But just as the earth brings forth nothing unless it is fed by sunlight and water from heaven, so we also are not able to do anything – even if we do a lot according to the legal righteousness and fulfill the letter of the law by our actions – if we are not already righteous beforehand – without works and actions – which is the power of Christian righteousness that has nothing to do with the law of an active, earthly righteousness.  For it is the heavenly, the passive (righteousness), that we don’t have and that we must receive from heaven.  It is not what we do, but what we grasp in faith, whereby we rise above all law and works.  For, as Paul says, just as we carried the likeness of the old Adam, so also will we have the likeness of a heavenly creation – a new creation in the new world of God where there is no law, no sin, no conscience, no death, but full joy, justice, grace, freedom, life healing, and glory.”

By separating the two forms of righteousness Iwand intended to re-assert the previous Reformation doctrine that separated the confession of the imposters and anti-Christians from the church for, “every church must know what kind of righteousness it teaches and proclaims.” Free from the needs of the conscience – the judgment of “my works” – the Christian is also free for the needs of the neighbor.  Then “this law, this cycle of ‘I’ and works and conscience would indeed be broken and I could confront the works that wait for me, knowing God’s judgment supports me, with the confidence of a master who commands his slaves.” The freedom “of the children of God who do work simply that it may be done, but who do not need to do any work at all in order to know that they live by God’s grace,” are freed by the power of the resurrection promise, to continue the attack on their own errant conscience, wherein “my works” and “my accomplishments” and “my sin” struggle against the fetters of the new creation in Christ. Only then, concludes Iwand, will life not be measured by the extent to which it is pacified or threatened by “my conviction” of righteousness.

Iwand unearthed the foundation block buried since Luther’s day – the cornerstone of Christian faith, which leads to all good works – the very stone the builders of the Enlightenment rejected. “Grace, compassion, love, and mercy are words we like to hear.  They are ‘evangelical’ words.” But, Iwand asserts, “if righteousness is the essence of the new revelation in Christ Jesus, then are not all other things contained in it; love, forgiveness, mercy, and compassion?  Haven’t we already understood what the Gospel is or what righteousness is?  After all, they are the two pillars upon which the righteousness of men before God rests. However, not until both the Gospel and God’s righteousness come together – not until we seek them both in the Gospel – and not until God’s righteousness is for us the content of the Good News that calls us to faith will we have understood the whole Gospel.”

Until the confession of the righteous One is heard, the church will continue in the murky grays of practice and progress, confusing heavenly virtue for the righteousness of faith, living from the necessities of the conscience rather than for the needs of the neighbor, never distinguishing between faith and works in such a way that ethics can be crucified in Christ Jesus, put to death, terminated, overturned, and “get its due.”  Simultaneously, in the breadth of the resurrection promise the work is affirmed through one’s vocation, set in its proper place within creation keeping sinners awake and alert in the currents of life, so that by faith, “we see the promised land, but from afar.  For all of life under the Law is to have the fate of Moses; nor should the Christian have any illusions and expect that day to come when he enters Sabbath rest.”  This is what the ethical question reminds us of daily; “it is the sting of the Law and it will not let us get tired.”

This stinging attack – being impinged upon by other sinners who love to remind us where the boundaries are laid – means being marked by the cross (the judgment) and at the same time bearing a sign of Easter (the mercy of God).  Of course, it is also mercifully involuntary.  Jesus’ public sacrifice, not virtue, becomes our defining center.

Righteousness worked through one’s vocation is work enlightened man does not understand and cannot assume from the publicness (politicus) of the Reformation. He cannot bear the critique of false religiosity and vocation that revalues and relocates the place of the holy in and amongst diapers, menstrual rags, and burial shrouds!

by Ty Andor

The true Christian church is the body of Jesus Christ (I Corinthians 12; Ephesians 5:29-30; Colossians 1:24). And yet, while it is constituted by the risen Lord, it is more often than not associated with other things. The most common referent of the term ‘church’ is denominational bodies. We know people who prefer to be Lutherans, Methodists, Episcopalians, Catholics, non-denominational, etc. who we say belong to different “churches.” And these “churches” have different sets of beliefs and practices that make them distinct from one another, even while they claim to worship the same Lord.

Which one is the truest or best “church” then? Answer: none of them. Not one of them can properly be called the “church” at all. For the true church is the body of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, not any institution, structure, or organization of this world. The body of Christ and his kingdom are simply not reducible to, or understandable in terms of, any thing within the kingdom of this world. It is a spiritual house, as Peter declares, “you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood” (I Peter 2:5).

Luther states it most beautifully in his Schmalkald Articles when he gives the church an image from Christ: “God be praised, a child seven years old knows what the Church is, namely, the holy believers and lambs who hear the voice of their Shepherd. For the children pray thus: I believe in one holy [catholic or] Christian Church. This holiness does not consist in albs, tonsures, long gowns, and other of their ceremonies devised by them beyond Holy Scripture, but in the Word of God and true faith.” This is the image of the true church Christ Jesus gave us, that we are like sheep hearing the voice of our Shepherd. In hearing his voice we become one with him, a part of his body, a living stone in the temple of God.

Another thing Luther knew about all this is what it meant to be freed from an institution of the world calling itself the church. For him it meant being kicked out, or excommunicated. In response, he used an image that put things in their proper biblical perspective. He called it a Babylonian captivity. A foreign power has taken the people who should be of God away from the place of their God, and put them under another lordship. This describes the way in which any person or group or institution that tries to teach “the church” is something other than the body of Christ, that tries to command something Christ Jesus has not commanded, or contradicts the teachings of Christ, has left or been cut off from the body of Christ that is the true Christian church. Just so, any “church” as an institution of the world may be carried off. And given the naturally corrupting tendencies of the world, it may be that every “church” of this world is bound to travel this same road in one way or another, at least to the extent it becomes focused on human things rather than divine things (Mark 8:33).

Another thing this means, is that those who leave or are kicked out of corrupt institutions are not really leaving anything, nor are they going anywhere. The body of Christ does not come and go; it is the Word of God which remains forever (Isaiah 40:8; I Peter 1:25). And if you are in Christ you are in the true Christian church, no matter where you are. It is indeed a tragedy when anyone is carried off to Babylon, whether it be an individual, a group of people, or an institution. But it is only by the power of God one may return. To him we make our appeal through prayer on behalf of those who have been taken captive, that he would lead them once again to the Truth, and protect us from the powers of the world, the devil, and the sinful self, which threaten to lead us away as well.

To whatever extent the things of this world function to communicate the presence of God in Jesus Christ they help to build up his body. But they are never to be confused with the real presence of the body of Jesus Christ in which we live by faith, and in the newness of life.

by Donavon Riley

At the height of the Osiandrian controversy during the 1530s a contention arose among Lutherans over the proper understanding of justification. This dispute would become a pivotal event for Lutherans in determining the distinctions and similarities between Luther and Lutheran Orthodoxy to the present. 

Andreas Osiander, claiming to possess the true teaching of Luther on justification – even claiming at one point of having ‘out-Luthered’ Luther regarding the proper understanding of law and Gospel – taught that the divine essence of Jesus worked the effective forgiveness of sins. Philip Melanchthon, on the other hand, claimed Jesus’ bodily, historical death for the forgiveness of sins was reckoned to us. These two poles gave rise to an ongoing dispute among Lutherans about the proper distinction of law and Gospel and created a theological wishbone in Martin Luther’s teaching about justification.  Both Osiander and Melanchthon claimed Scripture, Augustine, and Luther for their position but neither actually had the Scriptural argument tuned up. The influence of humanism was undeniable in both their arguments. Appeals to Augustine suffered from too much re-interpretation and they split Luther’s “simul” at all the wrong stops. 

Luther believed the proclamation, “Christ Jesus died for your sins and was raised for your justification,” did exactly what it said. Wherever God gives his Word he is giving Christ, and where Christ is there is life and salvation, that is, the forgiveness of sins. Osiander’s gaffe was that there was no need for a real death and a really resurrected body.  Because the Gospel does something, the proclamation is presently effective apart from any historical event. Melanchthon’s gaffe was that he did not believe words did anything. Words were just signs, it is the law, and how Christians ought to act, that effects a change.  But, according to Luther, the Word does something when it is preached. Coming to you from outside of you in the preaching of the preacher, the Word does what it says in fact: killing sinners and raising a new Christ in their place. 

What Osiander and Phillip ultimately failed to hear in Luther’s teaching about justification is the same thing that continues to go unheard. The forgiveness of your sins for Christ Jesus’ sake is the act of being handed over, literally, from death to the only one who has life.  The forgiveness of sins – what Lutherans used to refer to as justification - kills you the old sinner and simultaneously creates a new Christ.  The Word of God establishes and continues to create over and against you a new kingdom, a new time, and a new rule.  In relationship to yourself and others, you are old, you are still in your sins, and you are dead and under the power of death and the rule of the devil.  In relationship to Christ Jesus, you are a new creation.  Osiander could not believe this, nor could Phillip, because they were both tenaciously committed to the old way of thinking ad modem Aristotilae, plugging away in the same old legal synthesis. They wanted to stimulate their hearers to ever greater heights of self-improvement, participating in some way with Christ, whether inwardly or outwardly, in the forgiveness of their sins and being made new creatures. Osiander and Melanchthon were confused about the Son of God. They split him up into a divine Jesus and a human Jesus, creating what Luther referred to as “the damned alleosis.” Osiander made the Docetic move and Phillip made the historical move and never the twain would meet again. 

Phillip and Osiander split Christ.  That was their fundamental error.  If they had truly been appealing to Luther, and more importantly seeing through Augustine to the witness of Scripture, they would have noted that it is not we who split Christ Jesus, but he who splits us!  By the simple declaration, “you are forgiven your sins,” law and promise are distinguished, like Paul does in Galatians 2:20: “Nevertheless, I live; yet not I, but Christ lives in me.” 

So, Luther writes, as though he had foreseen this betrayal by his colleagues and those whose Christian confession bears his name,

 “Paul has said above: ‘I have died, etc.’ Here a wicked person could easily complain and say: ‘what are you saying, Paul? Are you dead? Then how is it you are speaking and writing?’ Likewise, a weak person might also be easily offended and say: ‘Who are you anyway? Do I not see you alive and doing things? Paul replies: ‘I do indeed live; and yet not I live, but Christ lives in me.’ There is a double life; my own, which is natural or animate; and an alien life, that of Christ in me.  So far as my animate life is concerned, I am dead and am now living an alien life.  I am not living as Paul now, for Paul is dead.  ‘Who then, is living?’  ‘The Christian.’  Paul, living in himself, is utterly dead through the Law but living in Christ, or rather with Christ living in him, he lives an alien life.’  Christ is speaking, acting, and living in him; these belong not to the Paul-life, but to the Christ-life.  You wicked person, do not slander me for saying that I am dead.  And you weak person, do not be offended, but make the proper distinction.  There is a double life, my life and an alien life.  By my own life I am not living; for if I were, the Law would have dominion over me and would hold me captive.  To keep it from holding me, I am dead to it by another Law.  And this death acquires an alien life for me, namely, the life of Christ, which is not inborn in me but is granted to me in faith through Christ.” (LW 26, 169-170)

The gospel of Jesus Christ is a double exchange.  Christ takes on the sinner’s struggle with sin, death, and the devil – Lutherans call this the ‘somber exchange’ or, the Cross!  On the other hand, sinners receive Christ’s victory, life and salvation. – Lutherans call this ‘the happy exchange!’  The Christian art now, as Luther understood it, is learning to get used to it – learning not only that you have sins but where to put your sins. 

Many have and will try to go outside themselves or behind themselves to gather meaning from the horror of Golgotha; or into themselves, to witness the work of God as he makes them into mystical beings.  But no free will can get outside itself or do a belly flop into itself.  Where Lutherans continuously get Luther wrong is misinterpreting what it means to be justified – that you will die and the old you will be put to death because there is no escape route in any direction. All hope you might have thereafter will hang on Christ’s work alone. You have no say in the matter. In fact, the only choice sinners can make is to reject his work in total. This is why we must die and he must do the killing. We simply refuse to accept his Word: we refuse to accept God as he would be known – in sufferings and the Cross. Instead, we play word games, thinking that by interpreting what the Cross and forgiveness means for us we are doing something, cooperating with God in our salvation, being justified and justifying others. But in the end, the dead cannot raise the dead to life. Apart from Christ all we are left with is a string of clichés, ambiguities and freedom to choose. 

But do Lutherans have to keep getting it wrong?

No. From time to time Lutherans rediscover that justification is the doctrine by which the church stands or falls. It is a thin tradition but some are converted. Some are brought to the belief that the Word of God establishes and continues to create over and against them a new kingdom, a new time, and a new rule, not in theory but in fact. In this kingdom the forgiveness of sins which Christ alone can effect kills you the old sinner and simultaneously creates a new Christ.  

Only in this way, being made nothing so Christ can do something with us, can Lutherans get it right! 

by Donavon Riley

Although Andreas Poach and his colleagues were labeled antinomians by many contemporaries they remained adamant in their defense of the law’s proper function, which they believed was in keeping with their professor Martin Luther’s understanding of the law. As students of Luther, Poach and Anton Otto, as well as Otto’s friend Michael Neander, and Andreas Musculus in like manner, were of the opinion that they, and not their opponents, were the true custodians of Luther’s teaching regarding the proper function of the law.

For Poach the law could not function in abstraction but was instead a functional reality, given “for obedience” in order to reveal God’s justice. The law was not a moral code inculcated under the rubric of the Ten Commandments alone. Instead, the law was a “debt we owe” or an “obligation which we must fulfill.” The proper operation of the law in the world, and upon Christians, for Poach was its function as a killer. He wrote, “…the most proper effect of the law is in the revealing and demonstrating of our works, that is, our sins – to accuse, to thoroughly terrify, to kill and to damn.” Thus, “the law is to be taught not for salvation, but for death and damnation.”

In response to Joachim Moerlin and Joachim Westphal’s insistence upon the necessity of the law in salvation, Poach referred to Luther’s Lectures on Galatians, writing, “The works of Christ, which are the fulfillment of the law, are the merit of our salvation. Our works, which ought to have been the fulfillment of the law, do not merit salvation, even if they were the most perfect, as the law requires – which, moreover, is impossible. The reason is that we are debtors to the law. Christ, however, is not a debtor to this law. Even if we most perfectly fulfilled all the commandments of God and completely satisfied the righteousness of God, we would not be worthy of grace and salvation on that account, nor would God be obligated to give us salvation and grace as a debt. He justly demands the fulfillment of his law from us as obedience due him for his creature, who is bound to obey its Creator.”

Poach maintained a distinct understanding of Christ’s work in that he believed Christ Jesus imputed his righteousness to Christians “above and apart from the law.” Peppering his writing with Luther’s vocabulary throughout the correspondence with Moerlin, Westphal, and the others, Poach pressed their definition of the law, emphasizing the functional reality of the law as that which “terrifies, reveals sins, accuses, works wrath, damns and kills,” whereas the gospel, “consoles, reveals the justification of God, defends, works peace, absolves, and vivifies.” Faith, Poach argued, created works spontaneously in the believer apart from any coercion of the law.

Nevertheless, to the extent Poach and his colleagues sought Luther’s understanding of the law throughout the debates, they were unable, even when employing Luther’s vocabulary, to disentangle their theological thinking from the usus legis formula of their opponents. The potency and untamed dynamism of Luther’s understanding of the law was absent from Poach and company as they attempted to construct theological categories around the impasse of an eternally binding lex moralis. Yet in quoting copiously from Luther’s Antinomian Disputations as well as his Galatians lectures during the conflict with Moerlin, Matthias Flacius, Westphal and Abdias Praetorius, Poach, along with Otto, Neander, and Musculus presented their opposition to the third use of the law from a highly defensible position: the distinction between the law and the reality to which the law points.

For their part, Moerlin, Westphal, Flacius, and Praetorius based their argument firmly within a presupposition that the law was the way of salvation. Writing a criticism of Poach’s antinomian opinions, Moerlin stated, “…if obedience to the law is not necessary to salvation, then Christ’s merit is not necessary to salvation” Flacius followed suit by insisting the necessity of the third use of the law. This necessity of a usus tertius legis in the Christian life was two-fold. First, that “…the old creature, like a stubborn, recalcitrant donkey, is also a part of them, and it needs to be forced into obedience to Christ not only through the law’s teaching, admonition, compulsion, and threat but also often with the cudgel of punishments and tribulations until the sinful flesh is completely stripped away and people are perfectly renewed in the resurrection.” Second, “believers…require the teaching of the law regarding their good works, for otherwise people can easily imagine that their works and life are completely pure and perfect.”

What finally flourished in the formula was, in its best moments, a half-truth. Neither party was able to formulate an understanding of the law in keeping solely with the ethic of Luther or the dogmatic of Melanchthon. “For Luther,” as Lauri Haikola wrote, “the absolute law is hidden and cannot be known. The command to Adam not to eat from the tree in the middle of the garden, for example, was not an insight into general ethical principles. Instead of living out his life against the background of a timeless, abstract, philosophical law, man lives in a series of ‘situations of creation’ within the flux of time. Dependent, he must learn what is required of him again and again. Melanchthon’s idea of an absolute law, on the other hand is inevitably transformed by the human mind into mastery of the future, and then into a doctrine of free will.”

The door was opened, and both parties contended over the proper use of the law among Christians, never fully distinguishing the functional reality of the law’s subject from an abstracted eternal moral law, never finessing an adequate function of the law within the happy exchange between the sinful soul and Christ Jesus, the pure bridegroom. For in its proper function, as Gerhard Ebeling wrote, “…the law does not per se become a paedagogues Christum, but: ‘Evangelium facit ex lege paedagogum in Christum.’ That decides the question of the usus legis, whose subject is either Christ or the devil To that extent, it could also be said that faith alone is the subject of the uti lege, because here both the finalis praesumptio and also the finalis dubitation are ruled out. For the right usus legis is, to allow the law neither to be asserted as a means to justification nor as an objection to justification.”

In attempting to separate justification from sanctification the formulators concluded by exalting the law at the expense of the Word, the proclamation of Christ’s victory. In doing so, the third use of the law became a theological scaffolding erected around the proclaimed Word. The fulfillment of the law and the stilling of the divine wrath were reanimated in the triplex usus legis, as a guide for the Christian life in terms of a timeless legal structure. But if it is true that “Christ is the end of the law, that everyone who has faith may be justified” (Romans 10:4) then “it makes little sense to attempt to reintroduce [the law] again after the gospel. To do so would be to fail to recognize the radical nature of the break between the two ages,” the old from the new, the law from the gospel, the flesh from the conscience, Moses from Christ, and the subject of the law from its object.

by Steven D. Paulson

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ! Now why would we take a perfectly good Jewish prayer and add Jesus Christ to God? So the fear of God has an end. That is, we have not only God’s law, but his heart as bestowed to sinners in Christ Jesus. After all, as Paul said, you don’t change someone’s will after it has been ratified. Moses’ law came 430 years after the Last Will and Testament of Christ was given to Abraham, so Jesus Christ is no addition to God, the law is.

Well then why add grace to peace? To get shalom, we must be “delivered from the present evil age.” For this Christ cannot remain a mere example of the righteous life for you to imitate, but became a sacrament, that is, “he gave himself to us for our sins.”

This is the way Paul begins most every letter, with a declaration of the Gospel and the way that is distinguished from the law. After doing this, and declaring Christ Jesus the deliverer, Paul then immediately has to clear the decks of all foreign furniture accumulated in addition to Christ: “I am astounded that you are so quickly deserting Him!—turning to a different gospel. Not that there is another gospel!

So, I have been asked to do two things, neither of them possible in our short time, but the times demand addressing both the new ELCA document that asks the church to read Galatians (Free to Serve the Neighbor), and our Lutheran teaching regarding Scripture. In this light I consider the new ELCA document a cry for help. It needs to be put out of its misery as it searches for some meaning in Galatians for our present situation, and we ought to help supply it.

On Vocations

One would think that the discussion in the new document would be about vocations. So we would learn how to distinguish in matters of vocation and Christian life what it means to speak of moral deliberation using reason under the first use of the law. We would also expect a discussion of the particular responsibility of Christians (in their vocations) to remind the world of what it already knows regarding what makes for the procreation and preservation of life in the world. Once that had been done, we would learn the way to speak specifically about the Christian life and so the fruits of faith in such a way not to confuse it with what it means to be a good tree. We would expect to be reminded, as Lutherans should do, that fruits (what comes after) and what comes before justification in the preservation of life are in need of clear distinctions from what actually makes us righteous.

So, when it comes to matters of controversy over what we are called to do for the sake of the neighbor, we would look for a description of the first use of the law. There we would learn reason rules. That Christians have no special moral code by which to run the country or world. That Christians nevertheless have a special responsibility to remind the present evil age about its own well being—written in their own hearts, but not often enough consulted. And we would learn that all people work this out primarily in their callings in life, not in shabby church basement meetings called for the purpose of moral deliberation. Then we would also expect a discussion about Christians specifically, and so the matter of the fruits of the Spirit. Here we would learn again that the Christian life is hid with Christ (Colossians). Here the Christian in the specific, eschatological sense functions lawlessly, freely. But this does not mean making one’s flesh the basis of Satan’s operation, or as Paul says, an opportunity for the Flesh. The freedom is freely to suffer—for the neighbor’s need, not their wild desires. With this comes a peace that passes understanding in the old evil world. Now if you can’t keep what precedes justification and what follows it away from what justifies, then all sorts of problems results. A good tree produces good fruit, good fruit does not produce a good tree. Preparations for the gospel may be a good thing, but do not justify. Much could come of a discussion like this.

The ELCA Document

Instead, we find in the ELCA document that all these careful distinctions (that we usually call “Lutheran”)—vocation, first use of the law, fruits of faith, living the Christian life– are constantly confused just like they are in the general conversations regarding sexuality and the like. So this blue ribbon committee serves to prime the pump for our latest neologism: “moral deliberation” in every church and congregation. And for this purpose they decided to teach us all the discarded anthropological principles of cultural relativity—all species develop somewhat differently in different habitats. Then they ask us to believe that using the Bible is like putting on different pairs of glasses (lenses), that give you a different view each time you look. They, depending upon which glasses you have on (traditional or progressive) you can then ask the Bible any question you want to pose. Thus they teach us that the Bible is like the old magic eighth ball that you shake up and receive an answer to your contact: Do you have anything to say about sex? Not likely! Can you help me with my neighbor? Ask again later! The conclusion of this mess that they imply we ought to draw, is that differences over secondary matters (ethics) are never such that the church can be divided over them. Thus, first they teach us diversity, then they teach us unity—all in one fantastic breath.

Who has bewitched you? Diversity is not the Gospel. Neither is Unity. Christ alone is, and he cannot be made into a culture or a lens or an experience or an idea. So there is a much more pressing problem than dealing with current ethical tangles, and we have the document committee to thank for at least bringing the main matter to light when they put their conversation in terms of reading Paul’s letter to the Galatians. Before we can talk about using human reason and speaking of the fruits of faith in matters of our daily lives we have to take up the problem of what the Gospel is since this is now up for grabs.

Flesh and Spirit

Who thought this would be an issue for Lutherans? But Paul thought the same thing about the Galatians: Who has bewitched you! Who would have thought, having been given the freedom of the gospel you would so quickly go back to the law? This issue we are having to deal with now is not what this document leads you to believe that differences of opinion are all about secondary problems. We just have a slight difference in hermeneutics, perhaps different lenses, and so some say this, some say that. Would that the current matters regarding Scripture and sexuality remained secondary problems, but they have a habit of pushing up into the conscience where they don’t belong. Paul laid the problem bare in the churches of Galatia when he said, the real problem is not a disagreement about different initiation styles, or for that matter on how you stay in the group of Christians once you have entered, the real problem is coming under sway of a cosmic power bigger than your little free will can handle. Paul call this power Flesh, and the only way out is by The Spirit (Gal 5). This committee writing its responses to various experiences of law in the world on behalf of the whole ELCA has gotten itself in over, and they have the whirlwind to reap now. The Flesh is a cosmic power ruling over you and me in this evil word. It is an “above” problem, not an “in” problem. The Spirit is a cosmic power as well, but of a brand new kingdom, and when this Spirit rules the old has come to an end.

The question is how do you get the Spirit to overco
me the Flesh? Can you coax the Spirit, entice or even demand the Spirit on the basis of righteous deeds of the law? Can you transport yourself from one kingdom to the other as if switching teams? Can you get out of a bad community into a good one by follow the higher principles of the law, say the law of tolerance or unity? Can you just put on a different pair of lenses? Or perhaps expand your cultural horizons to include people unlike yourselves? Can you get it by coaxing out righteous deeds for a whole community rather than dealing only with individuals? Can you get Spirit by building a better spirit-led community? By getting a gift which you then must accept or receive? Or by a justification that is the beginning of a process that you need to complete, with grace no doubt?

The answer is not to all of these. You get the Spirit the same way Abraham got it, that is by a promise in the form of an external word that comes to us by a preacher sent by God. True spirit does not come by human tradition or culture, but by divine institution, that is through preaching the two words of law and gospel.

For now, we are placed under a custodian, guardian or disciplinarian. We may not like it, but this harsh teacher keeps us alive and in readiness for the hearing of the Gospel. Even though the law treats you as a slave for now, you are an heir nevertheless. Paul tells us that regarding the new kingdom of Christ and your inheritance in it, it is as if you are under age and can’t yet get the inheritance yet –except in the form of a definite, specific, certain promise. That is, until God sent forth his Son, born of a woman, born under the law. Then he sent an apostle, and finally the preacher of the apostolic promise that we call the gospel—and this preacher gives faith! So Galatians 3 distinguishes between two times for you: “Before faith came….[and] Now that faith has come…” This is no less than a change of Lords, of Rulers and so of Kingdoms. You are moved from the one to the other not by moral transformation but transferred, translated in such a way that you are put to death as the old and raised up as the new. In this way, and only this way, Flesh is defeated and the Holy Spirit reigns, not only in the world, but in you.

Two sides fighting among Lutherans are not conservative and progressive. Now right at this point there is a longstanding fight among Lutherans about what happens to the law once the gospel has arrived. This intra-Lutheran struggle is played out in this new, eclectic ELCA document without clarity or resolution. What you get is a little of this, a little of that. Here and there a great confession of faith, and then a series of awful description of our situation before God and in relation to others. In part this comes because of our long unresolved confusion over what precisely is the Gospel and what is does with sinners. One side among Lutherans has particularly enjoyed the humanistic impulse and gives us the following theology:

Weak on sin, strong on the free will. Preference for the church as a community to Christ, the head. Freedom is taken to be a process of removing obstacles that hold down (oppress or dominate) the will from its better impulses—thus these develop a nose for tyranny.

Once obstacles to will are removed, the will is excited to express itself to the world in the form of autonomy—the becoming a law unto the self. Then at the end of this process a danger is felt: the free will may become too free! So, the law must come back to guide and limit it. Freedom may be the first word this group speaks, but discipline is the final word!

So in matters of sex, “sexuality” must have obstacles removed, the will must be expressed in various forms, then marriage must be given in order to limit these desires. The other side of this Lutheran fight has taken as its center the Cross or Word, which does make an appearance in this ELCA document, nearly for the first time in this discussion as far as I can tell. But it is served up only as one option at the smorgasbord of theologies.

Sin is great power indeed. It captivates the will and so we are bound and determined not to fear God, not to trust God, and left to purse what we really desire—death itself. Freedom means that Christ alone can change this, by binding the strong man and pillaging his house: Christ was crucified for our sin, raised for our justification. Beginning with bondage, the gospel is concerned entirely with freeing—“for freedom, Christ has set you free” since the law is fulfilled and ended in Christ. Freedom is not “for” something else, it is its own fulfillment and end. Not even is the neighbor my “true” end of freedom! Imagine that. It looks too fearful to those beholden to the humanist impulse.

Our Lutheran Teaching

You people here at Word Alone are to be witnesses for the latter group, and so you speak of Scripture thus:

Scripture is clear: as mirror of cross telling who you are, and who Christ is. Scripture is one as the manger of Christ. Scripture does not need an interpreter, putting on lenses of one sort or another and looking, it needs a hearer and in this way Scripture interprets you. All of these are true not because Scripture is an unearthly, holy book of law, but because it is preached for you—in law and gospel. The law and gospel are both words of God, not confused, not separated from one another, but primarily function to kill and make alive.

So when I say to you—“Grace to you and peace from God the Father and our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father; to whom be the glory for ever and ever. Amen. I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting him who called you in the grace of Christ and turning to a different gospel—not that there is another gospel, but there are some who trouble you and want to pervert the gospel of Christ. But even if we, or an angel from heaven, should preach to you a gospel contrary to that which we preached to you, let him be accursed. As we have said before, so now I say again, If any one is preaching to you a gospel contrary to that which you received, let him be accursed!” (Galatians 1:3-9)—you know what this means: Sin prefers another gospel. But there is no other Gospel. What is the Gospel then? It is the story of Christ, that he is the Son of God, became a man, suffer and died at the hands of sinners, was raised from the dead, and sits at the right hand of the Father ruling a new kingdom and judging the old. That is, in the Cross Jesus defeated death, devil and our own sinful self, and now seeks to bring this benefit to you—to do this he sends a preacher, who uses word and sacrament. Paul takes us through this in Galatians this way:

For I, through the law, died to the law. Why then the law? The law was added because of transgressions. Is the law then against the promises? By no means! But Scripture consigned all things to sin—in order to give what was promised to faith in Christ.

The Alternative View

Is this somehow not any longer our teaching? Unfortunately your new ELCA document leaves you with a series of contrary inferences or suggestions about Scripture and its authority instead:

Scripture is not clear, at least on matters of everyday life like sexuality. Scripture is not one, it is many things, many writings to many people at many places and times: it is a jumble of “cultures.” Scripture needs not just one interpreter, but many, since everyone has different experiences and so different “lenses,” so Scripture is an eye book, not an ear book. Finally, and this is what we must take up today: it teaches you tha
t law and gospel are not distinguished by the Holy Spirit and applied to you.

The conclusion of this sort of thing is to say, in light of all the confusion about sexual experiences and Scripture’s words we must appoint a committee that represents the various teachings in the ELCA and thus deliberates about all the various experiences and comes to some conclusion. The conclusion they reach is clear enough: we disagree about how the law treats mattes of sexuality. Then, they conclude from this that only disagreements about the Gospel are church dividing—not disagreements about the law. This last statement is true enough. But the committee, after all its deliberations, assumed that all we have is a disagreement about the law regarding sex practices or “identities.” (p. 15). This itself would be problem enough, I suppose, but unfortunately what we really have operating here as shown in their treatment of Galatians is that we have an actual disagreement about the gospel. At the very least we can be thankful to the committee and its hardworking members for concluding one thing: everyone in the ELCA (and beyond) should sit down and read Paul’s letter to the Galatians.

The new attack on law and gospel: Covenant Theology

The committee has been taken up into something beyond its own control. The great humanistic impulse swirling around the early Reformers would not rest with its refreshing reforms of catholic Christianity, it is now being used, mostly through its Bible exegetes, to tell you that “Luther’s interpretation of Paul” is simply wrong. This is a sideways way of saying something worse: the distinction of law and gospel is false. If this were only a matter of criticizing Luther, it would remain in the halls of universities where it couldn’t do much harm, but this attack has spilled out all over. It amounts to telling the Holy Spirit that His work is over and done with it, and we can take it from here. This we cannot abide, and unless we lay it bare the ELCA will continue to blunder as it enters its new commitment to read Scripture.1

The new proposal (that is not really new) coming from Biblical experts that has bewitched so many Lutherans today is this: The Gospel is not justification of the ungodly as forgiveness of sins on account of Christ’s cross. Instead, Gospel is a matter of whether Christianity as a religion, or “the church” is exclusive or inclusive. This comes out of a problem that emerged immediately in the Reformation itself in the person of Zwingli, and is called today “Covenant Theology.” For adherents to this theory, Gospel concerns who is in and who is out of the community of true believers. Therefore justification is really a matter of “church” not Christ and his cross. One of the favorite playgrounds for this theory is Paul’s letter to the Galatians, which they then interpret very differently than Lutherans have. They say that circumcision was purportedly not about adding a law to the gospel, who is Christ alone. It was rather about who gets entrance into the covenant of Israel or not. They key words for “gospel” are then “access” and “inclusion.” Put bluntly: Gospel is gaining access to church. The church is a covenant community whose main concerns are who is included and who excluded. Anyone who presents a barrier to another’s full inclusion or refuses welcome into the church, is therefore opposed to the Gospel by this very act or deed.

Just think of it. This rejection of aw and gospel replaces Christ with a new Gospel described as full, unrestricted, unobstructed, unlimited, free, limitless acceptance. When this is achieved the communal effect is to celebrate. But there is a problem hovering over this joyous description. Eventually this group that speaks endlessly about community and togetherness, loses interest in actual inclusion into the particular group called Christian church, not because it loses interest in inclusion, but it loses interest in the particular group assembled by Christ’s word. After all, what do you do when you invite and welcome someone into the church and they don’t want to come in? Well, you accept that too! You accept self-selected non acceptance so that all are ratified in their own selections of where they want to be. So ends the glorious proclamation of the Gospel in the empty and vapid world of “acceptance.”. The mission of inclusion is a short-lived mission though as we see, it can be very demanding and forceful for a short time. It is shameful to me that these kinds of people are more fervent than I when it comes to preaching “their Gospel.”

But Paul was right when this began to happen in the churches of Galatia. There is no other Gospel than preaching Christ and him crucified. Acceptance into the group simply equates law and love in the form of acceptance. The law is then divided up into two types, bad and good. Bad law means restricted access—and the main example given is the Jews, who only allowed certain people going through certain covenant rituals like circumcision to come in—this is why the Jews had a good community, but were faulty in terms of fulfilling the whole law, because they restricted access to the Torah, or those elected by God giving them the law.

On the other hand, good law means unrestricted access to the community shaped by the law of love. After all, why would Gentiles want access to the community of Jews, who are otherwise isolating themselves? Because the Jews are God’s elect! But what does it mean to be elect? It means God gave the Jews a covenant law, with the sign of circumcision. What is so good about the law? It is summed up in one word: LOVE.

What has happened here in this little theological experiment? The Gospel = unrestricted inclusion = welcome = entrance = church = community of loving, accepting people = law (after all, the law is summed up in one word: Love). This is the problem with attacking the proper distinction between law and Gospel. There is no other Gospel! Then what happens to the new proposal? The Gospel is mistaken for the Law!

This is a very old problem, which Paul is dealing with in Galatia. Its symptoms are these:

Jesus is sidelined, and the church takes his place, as the present “part” of Jesus searching for its missing head. The church becomes the human act (aided no doubt by grace) of inclusion. So faith mixes with love. The tree is mixed with its fruit, and law and gospel are mixed with only one conclusion possible—the gospel itself is silenced and the law alone remains.

Americans, like the old Galatians, have been especially susceptible to this way of thinking. Thomas Jefferson tried it this way: Moses was good because he taught people to love. But he only applied it to one tribe, the Jews. Jesus is better than Moses because he taught that the law should be applied lovingly and universally to all people—that is, Jesus universalized the law! My what have we come to? In this way of thinking the law is not a problem because of what it demands: it simply has been too exclusively applied to too few. The law among Jews became exclusive. The solution is Christ, who applies the law to everyone. Isn’t this what Paul meant when he said, “For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Gal 5: 14). I wish I didn’t have to go any further, but this bewitching theory has become the regular option for most everyone today, including our own Lutherans. We have to watch the series of things that happen once Gospel becomes Law.

To be Christ is to be the universal applier of the law and so includes everyone. Thus the law is fulfilled, and thus the law is eternal. Thus the law of love is the Gospel. In this gospel of acceptance (that is really only a self-made law), baptism replaces circumcision’s Jewish exclusivenes
s as the sign of universal acceptance into the community of love. In order to do this the law itself must be abrogated (stopped) in one sense, and universalized in another.

Law is abrogated, overcome, over and done with in the one form of “orders of creation” which place distinctions even into bodies or certainly into the “structures” of life. Only the “material” of creation is good (cells and atoms), but the Fall or sin is what imposes difference between creatures like that between Jew and Gentile (which was an artificial attempt to impose difference into the flesh by means of circumcision), or between slave and free (the Greek way of life that makes some people free in the polis, and others their supporting but un-free servants], and especially no “male and female.”2 When Paul says “new creation,” he therefore is taken to mean, the structures or “orders” or estates of Creation into which God calls for the sustaining and production of more life—are destroyed by the Gospel by which you are brought into the group. The creatures themselves don’t die (no death), but what binds their wills from the outside—heteronomy–dies.

Death here is only applied to the “natural law” so that image of God as male and female, for primary example, is destroyed, and that image is an external ordering or structure—Paul is then take to mean by this that Gen 1:27 is brought to an end in the newly structured church. God’s gospel is getting rid of any offices, orders or natural law in creation. But now that the external laws are removed, the church comes in, in its power of moral deliberation, and the Gospel means the church can and should make up its own, new laws by which to structure the loving community.

Freedom then becomes the ability to make new laws! Moses was great, he gave us the law of love. Jesus is better, because he applies it to everyone—he accepts them into the universal group that is going about making better structures for fuller expressions of love than existed in the exclusive groups that preceded, like the Jews. They have made a shipwreck of their faith: the problem with “moral deliberation.” This group wants to convince you, that if you take up the issue of sexuality in relation to the law ( instead of their newly minted description of the gospel), then you are the false apostles adding “old law” to the open, accepting Gospel. You are circumcisers. But this group is the modern pseudo Apostoloi, pure enthusiasts, adding to Jesus Christ and his cross the proposition of another gospel: one, universal law of love that makes us into accepting acceptors who accept our own unacceptability and that of others. Is this who Christ has become? They have, in the words of 1 Timothy, 1:19, “made shipwreck of their faith.” In the end, they are Gnostic, anti-creation idealists, seeking a utopia on earth that is hostile to the entire first article of your creed, then reduces Christ to a new Moses, an example, rejecting the crucified, and becoming pure spiritualists—enthusiasts–who attempt to make of the Gospel a vision of the church as a covenant community of accepting acceptors. They become a social contract theory.

Who has bewitched you! Who wants to make of the Gospel a Law? Who wants to make the church, and its entrance rites, that is baptism, into an act of acceptance into the group of holy? It is not this or that misguided individual or poor exegete who has done this—it is the cosmic and humanly undefeatable power Paul simply calls—Flesh. But the Spirit, in whom we must and will walk—does not raise up carpers, people poking away at the preachers of the Gospel, people who “agree to disagree” on this matter of biblical interpretation. The Holy Spirit does not create a community of dissension made up of people of multiple cultures who nevertheless have learned how to be cultural relativists–as if that were the gospel! This finally will be of no help to a troubled conscience of any sort, and so we ought to have true compassion and love for people in great difficulty. There is only one remedy to being bound in sin and that is the forgiveness of sins on account of Christ. Justification by faith alone.

These folks have been proposing that true freedom is freedom from the natural law since at least the time of Hegel, but Hegel at least had the good sense to make the state the institution of God that would provide the necessary cohesion of love in the form of new laws that truly included the disparate individuals who wandered lost in life. The church doesn’t even have this much sense any longer. They have decided that what really keeps them from being free is some outside imposition on the will that can and must be removed. Specifically they have zeroed in on the natural law as the root of their problems. (see Luther’s Galatians Commentary on Gal. 5:14)

All people have a certain natural knowledge implanted in their minds (Rom 2), by which they know naturally that one should do to others what one wants done to one’s self. This principle and others like it, which we call the law of nature, are the foundation of human law and of all good works. Nevertheless, human reason is so corrupted and blinded by the malice of the devil that it does not understand this inborn knowledge, or, even if it has been admonished by the Word of God, it deliberately neglects and despises it….In addition, the human reason and flesh, which resists the Spirit in the saints (in the wicked, of course, it has dominant control), is naturally afflicted with Pharisaic superstitions and, as Ps. 4:2 says, ‘loves vain words and seeks after lies’; that is, it would prefer to measure God by its own theories rather than by His Word and is far more ardent about doing works that it itself has chosen than about doing those that God commands.3
And further: “The whole world…cannot estimate the value of even one tiny truly good work, because it does not measure works or anything else on the basis of the Word of God but on the basis of a reason that is wicked, blind, and foolish.”10

The sinner’s preference is always for “self-chosen works.” But since it has become rather evident that the State or government is not up to this task as Hegel and the Germans once dreamed, an even worst suggestion is floating out there that the community of the church in its imaginary act of “moral deliberation” in the form of church basement meetings pouring over this ELCA material or in blue ribbon committees of the finest theologians known to the church like the one that produced this material (with all good intention!), is able to supply the new, creative structures needed for the Christian life lived in Christ’s new kingdom is frightening. And on what basis do they make this claim? They direct us to their rallying cry: “The Spirit is doing a new thing!” So, like a true spiritualist they say, “We have a new law, better than the Creator could accomplish the first time around, based on a new gospel that will get outsiders to become insiders and so grow the church.” Beware of such superstitious, religious sounding good works.

What we teach is this: Since this is not the Gospel What do we teach, then? What is the Gospel? What does the Law do? The basic argument of Galatians goes like this: There are two kinds of righteousness: active and passive. Why are they so hard to distinguish? Because we are captive to the Flesh. The righteousness of Christ comes by faith alone, an applied righteousness that is not generated or owned by us. Faith comes through the office of preaching law and gospel, both true words of God. This makes two worlds, as it were: old and new that concerns our whole existence, not parts. That means the repentance is total, not partial, and involves us in no less a translation from the Flesh to the Spirit than our own death and resurrection.

We live by faith not by sight, thus as theologians of the
cross. This faith is active in good works as a good tree produces good fruit. And so we have our two basic teachings: Faith alone in Christ alone, and from this comes love of neighbor (and so the teaching of good works follows that of faith). At this point we could return to the remarks I began with concerning how to proceed with an issue that concerns the working of the law in this old world both among those who are Christians and those who are not.

Of course these assertions have been difficult to hold, teach and confess, since the devil himself dislikes them immensely, and our old sinful self fights against its death with every ounce of effort. Unless we become clear about what has happened in this church to the understanding of such a basic letter as Paul’s to the Galatians, we will not make any headway regarding how to live together as sinners redeemed by Christ himself and alone by no other way than the cross itself. Bewitchment means we were caught off guard. We didn’t understand that this was happening, until one day it showed up with all the trappings of something that looks like official teaching of the church. It sounds pious. It sounds religious. It sounds like Gospel.

But the Gospel of Christ crucified is our only authority, and by it we are truly freed for freedom, no less, not for some other lofty sounding goal—even so great as “the neighbor.” You can be assured that good works will come, and they will not be for you, they will in fact be for the neighbor, but this is not your new religious goal in life. Spiritualism is always a terribly slippery eel to fight, but there is no other Gospel to run to, and the one we have is so precious that we don’t have to go looking elsewhere. With such freedom comes boldness to say no to such confusion that we are receiving in the mail. So even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a contrary gospel than what we proclaimed to you, let that one be accursed!

In his own commentary on Galatians, Luther noted that “It is difficult and dangerous to teach that we are justified by faith without works and yet to require works at the same time. Unless the ministers of Christ are faithful and prudent …who rightly distinguish the Word of truth (2 Tim 2:15), they will immediately confuse faith and love at this point. Both topics, faith and works, must be carefully taught and emphasized, but in such a way that they both remain within their limits.”11

When the Gospel is clear, then also works become clear: “I come forth into another kingdom, and I perform good works whenever the opportunity arises.” Here there are a whole series of offices that open up opportunity to the neighbor like preacher, parent, politician, and servant. Here one can even speak of obedience, submission (but only after one has refused any submission to the Law). Obedience is a result of the Gospel, it is not the Gospel, even in Christ. Here no better command is given than “Love your neighbor as yourself.” The pattern to follow is not a book of laws, but what you do when loving yourself. Luther reminds us that the loveliest of all books about laws is right in your own heart. The subject of love is set: my neighbor (a most lovable object indeed), and nothing better can be done in this old world than love since “it is neither called forth by anything that someone deserves nor deterred by what is undeserving and ungrateful.”

One of the greatest acts of love is “teaching the erring; comforting the afflicted; encouraging the weak; …bearing with his rude manners and impoliteness; putting up with annoyances, labors, and the ingratitude and contempt of men in both church and state…etc.”12 This should not become mere ideas or values like acceptance, so that we lose our Christ, and our neighbor, and have only the cold words of the law in “letters and syllables.” Jesus says to us: “persevere in the doctrine of faith, which you have received from me. Afterwards, if you want to do good works, I will show you in one word the highest and greatest works, and the way to keep all the laws: …love.”13

This is the shortest and longest theology at once: shortest in words: faith, then love. It is the longest in practice, since it is wider, longer, deeper and higher than the whole world. That means, there will be plenty for you to do.

But here Paul gives a caution: “if you bite and devour one another, take heed that you are not consumed by one another! (Gal 5:15). Remember the source of schism is not God’s word of law regarding sexuality; it is the attempt to make another gospel. And that we must teach against. “The commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor’ makes the same requirement, namely, that you not submit to your flesh…” One does not come without the other. Loving neighbor is not done by submitting to Flesh. If you remember that much you will have enough to pierce through this bewitchment that has grabbed hold of the church.

Footnotes

1 The main figure for this rejection of Luther and new approach to Paul (not new at all) is E. P. Sanders in a book like Paul and Palestinian Judaism but it now includes most of the Biblical experts’ guild. This is not the fault of historical critical method, but is the fault of bad theology and the Flesh.

2 ELCA document, Free, 103 note i, David Tiede writes about Paul’s statement “no male and female”: “The first pairs are contrasts (“no longer Jew or Greek … slave or free), and the last pair echoes and overturns the orders of creation in Genesis 1:27 (“no longer male and female”) because in Christ Jesus, God has made a new creation according to God’s promises, not God’s rules. This witness drives to the root of the changes in everything God inaugurated in Jesus.” At the root of the Gospel is then, according to this theory, getting rid of what he calls “orders of creation.” But of course this means that new orders take their place, since we are not talking about Christ any longer.

3 LW 27:53-4.

4 Ibid., 56.

5 LW 27:63.

6 Ibid. 56.

7 Ibid. 59.

8 Ibid. 67.

9

10 Ibid., 56.

11 LW 27:63.

12 Ibid. 56.

13 Ibid. 59.

(Note: this article was originally delivered as an address to the 2007 convention of the WordAlone Network)

by Donavon Riley

Erasmus of Rotterdam was popularly known as, the “prince of the humanists.” His contemporaries and modern scholars alike have recognized his influence on sixteenth century reformers as well as political and religious leaders of the same era. It is not an exaggeration to state that Erasmus’ contributions to the principles of sixteenth century humanism and Christianity in general are without peer. Whereas his primary opponent prior to Luther, Ulrich von Hutten:

“reflected the romantic nationalism of northern Italian humanism, Desiderius Erasmus of Rotterdam was in every respect a cosmopolitan, optimistically devoted to the restoration of the unity of Christendom. In his life and work the movement begun by the members of the Platonic academy in Florence and continued by Reuchlin in Germany, Colet and More in England, and Lefevre in France reached its highest stage of development. Based upon Stoic, Platonic, and Christian ethics, influenced by the mysticism of the Brethren of the Common Life, and strengthened by the writings of the church fathers, the humanism of Erasmus laid particular emphasis upon the inwardness of religion, virtuous living, and moral social relationships.”

The success of Erasmus’ writings and popularity, however, also brought opposition and enemies. Perhaps as a direct result of his emphasis on public virtue and moral social responsibility, Erasmus was fond of satirizing those in authority he saw as providing an immoral example for “the common herd,” especially the Pope and the emperor. A consequence of this was, by 1524, Erasmus could have claimed as many detractors amongst the clergy and faculties of Europe as Luther.

So it was that when Erasmus published de libero Arbitrio he was, despite his aversion to public quarrels, thrust into open contention against Luther. He did not seek open public quarrel with Luther, but with the number of voices who questioned Erasmus’ loyalties to the Roman curia and the emperor rising in volume he was compelled to publish something in his own defense. As Erasmus wrote to fellow humanist, Willibald Pirkheimer in 1522, “The ill will of certain people has so swamped me in hate that anything I try is vain… the Lutherans threaten openly with their abusive writings, and the emperor is as good as convinced that I am the source and head of the whole Luther tumult. So I run into greatest danger on both sides, while having made them both indebted to me.”

Erasmus believed there was little else he could do. Opponents such as the papal nuncio Aleander were unremitting in their accusations, aligning Erasmus with Luther and the other Wittenbergers. As Erasmus noted on one occasion, “I had intended to write something, not against Luther but for concord. But I now see both parties so in heat, that it is better to remain silent.” And yet, “a few lines further on, a theme occurs to him that he will choose for the confrontation: the freedom of the will.” The topic to be considered had not been an arbitrary one though. For, “it had angered him that several theologians,” Luther included, “had objected to his paraphrasing of Romans 9 claiming that he had given the human will too great a significance.”

The only way out of his troubles was to begin putting distance between himself and the views of Luther. Erasmus had initially sought a way to address his concerns without publicly challenging Luther, and to do it in such a way that his opponents would be mollified. However, Erasmus’ initial plan for writing three dialogues describing the issues standing between him and Luther never reached fruition. Instead, private letters – those of Luther and Erasmus – were acquired by publishers and distributed. The result was Erasmus grew more and more disquieted by Luther’s apparent lack of respect. As he learned from Oecolampadius on June 20, 1523 Luther had even included Erasmus in his lectures on Isaiah, saying:

“What Erasmus knows about judging spiritual questions, or what he pretends to know, is borne out amply in his writings, from the first to the latest. I am not insensitive to his assorted barbs, but while outwardly he acts as though he is not my foe, I do the same, as though I did not understand his cunning – although I catch on better than he realizes. He has delivered in the field to which he was called; he has introduced us to languages and steered us away from the godless studies (of scholasticism). Perhaps, like Moses, he will die in the plains of Moab, for he is unlikely to advance to the higher studies (which cultivate the fear of God)… He has done enough in exposing the evil. (So far as I can see) he is unable to show us the good and to lead us into the promised land.”

When Erasmus read the letter he complained to Ulrich Zwingli, “I am not much to be trusted in matters concerning the Spirit. I don’t know what that should mean.” “I’d like to learn from you, learned Zwingli, what kind of a spirit that is.” In another letter to Zwingli, dated from 1523, Erasmus further complains that Luther speaks in “riddles and paradoxes, listing among them the view that ‘free will’ is an ‘empty word’.”

What followed was Erasmus’ decision to publish the tract de libero Arbitrio. This was not only calculated to disentangle himself from accusations of false teaching but likewise, to put distance between himself and comparisons to Luther. The publication of the tract in 1524 provided just the opportunity, as well as an opening for some in authority, such as King Henry VIII of England, the emperor, the papal legate Aleander, and Duke George, to thrust “the prince of the humanists” into open confrontation with the apostate monk from Wittenberg.

The treatise “was well received by the Pope and the Emperor, and was praised by Henry VIII who had written against Luther in 1521 and to whom Erasmus had sent a first draft before its publication.” So, with his loyalties now secured, Erasmus was positioned to strike at Luther. Writing to Duke George, Erasmus saw Luther “as one of the long line of those used by God – like Pharaoh, the Philistines, Nebuchadnezzar and the Romans – to chastise the chosen people for their own good, a necessary scourge.” Similarly Erasmus wrote in correspondence with Henry Stromer, “whatever Luther’s opinion of me may be, when it comes to a question of faith I obviously consider him of little worth.”

Of course Luther was aware of such criticisms while readying de Servo Arbitrio for publication in December of 1525. He, for his part, was convinced Erasmus had become “an enemy of God and the Christian religion, an Epicurian and a serpent, and he was not afraid to say so.” This was not mere invective on Luther’s part. His response to Erasmus was more than a polite contribution to a literary dual. His treatise “deals directly and uncompromisingly with the basic principles of religion – the nature of God and the nature of men – and as such led to the production of one of the enduring monuments of evangelical doctrine, a masterpiece in the realm of polemics, dogmatics and exegesis – Martin Luther’s de Servo Arbitrio.”

The debate that emerged between Luther and Erasmus during 1525 was not only a dispute regarding the role of the human will in salvation. At issue was an argument about the basic principles of true theology and true knowledge of God. Luther recognized in Erasmus’ challenge the fundamental err committed by theologia gloriae. Theologians of glory do not speak of the crucified and hidden God. Instead they speak about God in such a way that the “invisible things of God” become clear from the works of creation. The God hidden in sufferings and the Cross was alien to E
rasmus who failed, according to Luther, to properly distinguish between the hidden God and the revealed God: between God or the will of God as preached, revealed and worshipped and God as he is not preached, revealed and worshipped. In consequence, Erasmus’ theology of glory will not allow him to accept the radical bondage of the will Luther heard and experienced when God revealed himself in his word of the Cross.

Although this way of speaking may have sounded radical to Erasmus, this was not a new teaching Luther came up with in 1525. “Luther came to realize the radical bondage of the will, not in the face of the challenge of Erasmus as the advocate of the freedom of the will, but as soon as he comprehended the pure Gospel.” As early as a disputation in 1516 Luther argued, “the will of man without grace is not free, but enslaved… a year later, in the Disputatio contra scholasticum theologiam, Luther asserts:

“It is not true that the free effort [of man] is able [to decide] on either of two opposed courses. Rather it is not free at all, but captive. It is not true that the will is by nature able to follow right guidance… Man cannot of his nature desire that God should be God; on the contrary, he desires that he himself might be God and that God might not be God… The best and infallible preparation and the sole disposition to grace is the eternal election and predestination of God.”

At Heidelberg he re-stated his position again, arguing that “to speak of free will after the fall is mere words. If it [this so-called free will] does what lies in its power it commits mortal sin.”

The theory of the free will for Luther was the foremost example of how sinners plumb the depths of the hidden God in order to place themselves above God. In the argument between Luther and Erasmus this emerges in the dispute over what the Scripture intends when it asserts God hardened Pharaoh’s heart. As is indicative of theologia gloriae the assertion offended Erasmus. The formulation negates his whole argument about free choice. So, Erasmus sets about trying to find a way out for God and human beings. To do this he employs a trope, a figure of speech. For Erasmus, what Scripture actually says is not to be read literally, it was just a way of speaking. He concludes that what really occurred is Pharaoh hardened his own heart when God withdrew himself. To save free choice Erasmus must literally move God out of the way. In this way of reading Scripture, Erasmus gets God off the hook for punishing Pharaoh and more importantly spares his theory of free will. For Luther, Erasmus’ turn of phrase pictures God as he would have him behave. It finally achieves the goal of placing sinners above God even though,

“free will is in reality a fabrication, a mere turn of phrase without reality.” “For no one has the power of himself even to think something good or evil, but everything… is derived from absolute necessity.” For sinners swept up in the contention between God’s sovereignty and freedom, that is, human righteousness, “everyone in his own heart pictures God as he thinks God ought to act.”

Finally, Luther’s response to de libero Arbitrio should not be read as merely a treatise filled with harsh judgments directed at Erasmus’ theological opinions. Luther’s Bondage of the Will is a great reversal of previous methods and ideas about the Cross. It likewise provides the material for determining the Gospel against “modern men of all eras.” Erasmus’ opinions stand not only as representative of Dutch pietism and Italian learning in general but as a kind of prototype of the modern evangelical Christian. And, “he was that in the sense that he sincerely wanted to be a theologian of grace.” Erasmus lays out his argument for a theology of grace and free will in much the same way modern Protestants have done since the Enlightenment.

One scholar who has conducted an extended historical examination of this position was Harry McSorley. Despite offering a traditional Roman-Catholic response to Luther’s assertions in de Servo Arbitrio, McSorley put forth a helpful clarification of the Erasmian position for both Roman Catholic as well as Protestant scholars. McSorley explained that Erasmus was not particularly adept at defining his point of view theologically and not overly careful about scholastic terminology, since he had something of a distaste for such theological hair-splitting. There is also, however, a counter tendency by modern Luther scholars such as McSorley to de-emphasize Erasmus’ proto-modern theology of grace. They have moved to point out Erasmus’ ignorance of the decisions of the early church counsels as well as his failure to clearly define and understand scholastic theological terminology. In this way modern scholars have sought to distance and detach Erasmus from the normative Thomistic doctrine of the day. On the other hand, Luther’s position in de Servo Arbitrio is homogenized by placing his assertions within the context of previous theological traditions. When McSorley explains Luther’s “biblical and Catholic concept of Servum Arbitrium” he moves to tie Luther to previously existing views writing,

“We have found much to criticize in Luther’s necessitarian concept of servum arbitrium. Nearly all of our criticism has been directed against Luther’s use of such non-biblical concepts as necessity and contingency. Other points of criticism were raised against Luther’s exaggerated interpretation of the biblical doctrine concerning Satan, the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart and the significance of the law. When we turn to Luther’s strictly biblical concept of man’s enslavement by sin, however, we recognize at once a doctrine of servum arbitrium that is fully in conformity with the Catholic tradition of Augustine, Anselm, Peter Lombard, Thomas Aquinas, et al., as well as with the teaching of the Second Council of Orange and of the Council of Trent.”

This approach has led many scholars like McSorley to frame Luther’s theological assertions within Erasmus’ anthropology. This is an unfortunate consequence, first, to appreciate Luther’s positive starting point. Second, it leads to a misunderstanding of how Luther asserts theologia crucis as the first premise in his distinction between law and the Gospel. When one fully considers how Luther works to express the crucified and hidden God in Christ’s Cross, Erasmus’ starting point in anthropology is irrelevant for Luther. Luther begins with the crucified God, as does any theologian of the Cross, and God is then allowed to “be God” however uncomplimentary that may be for humans. Once Luther’s positive starting point is disentangled from Erasmus’ pessimism in search of some small but reasonable optimism – an attempt that was always preoccupied with the question of how one keeps freedom in check, how to bind freedom up and prevent people from descending into moral turpitude – one may “deduce the entire scope of Luther’s thinking.”

by Ty Andor

One of the most irksome topics in understanding the Christian life has been the notion of divine election, or predestination; the idea that God sat down before all time and made a decision about who would go to heaven and who would go to hell. One begins to wonder how they might figure out whether they are one of the chosen. What would be the sign of such a status?

Regardless of what signs one might find, an additional difficulty with such an approach is that it is not likely there will be a shortage of signs to the contrary. In this regard we find that God has hidden himself from our sight (II Corinthians 5:7). And he has done so in order to be found where and in what manner he desires to be found, where he is electing and predestining people for his kingdom in time, though the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It is in Christ alone one may find comfort regarding matters of eternity.

Here is a brief letter on how this plays out in our daily thoughts about such things, from Martin Luther, written to an unknown recipient:

My dear friend N has informed me that you are at times troubled by the question of God’s eternal election, and he has requested me to write you this brief letter, etc.

To be sure, it is a serious thing to be so troubled. But you should know that we are forbidden to concern and worry ourselves about this question, for we ought to be willing to remain in ignorance about things which God chooses to keep hidden. This is the apple of which Adam and Eve and all their descendants ate to their destruction, for they wished to know what they were not supposed to know. Just as murder, theft, and cursing are sins, so it is also a sin to trouble oneself about this question. And like all other sins, it is the work of the devil.

To counteract this, God has given us his Son, Jesus Christ. We should think of him daily and follow him. In him we shall find our election to be sure and pleasant, for without Christ everything is peril, death, and the devil, while in Christ is pure peace and joy. Nothing but anxiety can be gained from forever tormenting oneself with the question of election. Therefore avoid and flee from such thoughts, as from the temptation of the serpent in paradise, and direct your attention to Christ.

(Note: for a fuller development of this theme, see Steven Paulson’s Luther on the Hidden God)