by David M. Whitford

In 1996, Bernhard Lohse wondered if the Luther presented by some would recognize the Luther described by others.2 Trying to recognize the “political” Luther would be especially difficult. On the one hand, Thomas Muntzer was but the first in a long line of polemicists, journalists, politicians, and scholars who have accused Luther of releasing the sword of secular authority from all control and thereby opening up centuries of authoritarian subjugation.3 On the other hand, Peter Frarin argued in 1566 that Protestantism equaled sedition, rebellion, and the subversion of civil order.4 In the criticism of Luther for being either too conservative or too liberal, one thing remained fairly constant: the source of Luther’s major shortcoming-his theology of the Two Kingdoms.5

Recently, however, Luther’s commitment to the Two Kingdoms has been called into question. James Estes has argued that beginning in 1530, Luther began to abandon the Two Kingdoms in favor of the more traditional idea of the cura religionis as advanced by his close associate and friend Philip Melanchthon.6 Melanchthon argued that the community was a Christian commonwealth and that the magistrate had a responsibility, as the custodian of both tables of the Law, to regulate the right order of true religion.7 Traditionally, Luther has been understood as having rejected the cura religionis in favor of his own dialectical doctrine of the Two Kingdoms in which the magistrate has certain functions and the church has other functions. Both are essential and complementary, but necessarily distinct. While it has often been argued that beginning in 1530 Luther began to reinterpret his Two Kingdoms doctrine to allow for a greater role in religion by civil authorities, Estes argues that Luther did not just reach different conclusions regarding the effect and interpretation of the Two Kingdoms, but that he largely abandoned it in favor of Melanchthon’s understanding of the cura religionis.8 This essay assesses the validity of such a shift by examining Luther’s Lectures on Genesis. The Lectures on Genesis provide an excellent resource for this reassessment because Genesis lends itself to discussions of law, sin, government, and authority.9 Further, the Genesis Lectures come at the end of Luther’s career and therefore provide an excellent window of comparison between the commitments of the “young” Luther (who is universally regarded as having rejected the idea of a cura religionis) and the “mature” Luther.10 This reassessment is important because there are few areas in Luther’s thought that have been as heavily criticized and critiqued as his understanding of the Two Kingdoms, secular authority, and religious freedom.

Luther used two terms when speaking of the Two Kingdoms.11 The first ought to be referred to as the Two Realms (Zwei Reiche Lehre) because it refers to the two spheres of one’s existence: before God and before humanity. The geistliche Reich (the spiritual realm) is one’s existence cor am deo (before God). The weltliche Reich (the worldly realm) refers to one’s existence coram hominibus (before humanity). The spiritual realm is eternal and everlasting; it is the realm of the Gospel, revelation, and faith. Two motifs run through Luther’s thought about the spiritual realm: freedom and equality. Freedom allows one to act in service for the benefit of others. Equality asserts that the spiritual realm is not governed hierarchically. In this realm all Christians are equal. Whereas the spiritual realm is eternal and proleptic, the secular is finite and fleeting. Here law and convention instead of service are definitive; it is the realm of reason and unbelief.

Contained within these Two Realms is Luther’s idea of Two Governments (Zwei Regimente Lehre). The Two Governments are the flip side of the coin to the Two Realms. The first (das geistliche Regiment) is the spiritual government of the church exercised through the proclamation of the Word of God and proper administration of the sacraments. The second (das weltliche Regiment) is the worldly government of emperors, rulers, and ruled, which is governed by law and enforced by coercion. The responsibility of the secular realm is to limit the effects of sin and malfeasance and thus to ensure that the unjust will not run rampant over the weak and downtrodden.12

Thus, Luther attempted in the 152Os to set a new course in the relationship between the church and the state. Instead of one being the subject of the other, they would each have clearly defined roles and spheres of influence that must be kept distinct.13 To investigate Luther’s commitment to the Two Kingdoms, we shall look for the consistent use of these themes in the Lectures on Genesis. We shall begin with his understanding of authority and government, for it is in Genesis, Luther argues, that human authority is established. The proper definition of authority is a cornerstone of the Two Kingdoms. If Luther fails to remain consistent here to the principles regarding authority he set forth in the 152Os, then he has indeed abandoned the Two Kingdoms in favor of the cura religionis.

Second, as an extension of the examination of authority, we must explore the dual nature of authority. In 1526, Luther boasted that “not since the time of the apostles have the temporal sword and authority been so clearly described or so highly praised as by me.”14 Now we must ask whether in praising it so highly, he gave it more authority than was warranted. all authority, for Luther, is derived from God. Thus, other authorities receive their sanction from God as well. Fathers, Burghermeisters, and princes are ordained by God for the maintenance of good and are thus due obedience (Romans 13:1-7). However, it is also divided between the secular and the spiritual. In the 1520s, Luther was very clear that the two should be neither confused nor combined. Collapsing the kingdoms and therefore advocating a landesherrliche Kirchenregiment in the Lectures on Genesis would clearly substantiate the claim of a transition to the cura religionis.

Finally, we must examine Luther’s understanding of Law and Gospel. The Genesis lectures are ideal for this purpose, not simply because it is in Genesis that Luther discusses the implications of the Fall, but because it is here in Genesis that Luther finds the Gospel proclaimed in its pristine, prelapsarian form. The Law and Gospel are a central dialectic in Luther’s thought.15 Luther notes two proper uses of the Law: the natural/civil/or political use and the theological. The Law in its political sense is a good gift of God in that it limits human sin and avarice and thus promotes the common good. Theologically, the Law reveals the utter uselessness and futility of salvation by works.16 Thus he rejects the ethical and moral approaches to God (and their attendant social/political structures). In their place, Luther offers God’s promise of salvation given freely in the Gospel of Jesus Christ.17

I. Authority in the Lectures on Genesis

Luther uses the phrases authority, government, or power of the sword repeatedly throughout the Lectures on Genesis; however, it is in reference to two pericopes that he offers his most detailed exploration of the subject. The first time he touches with any depth on the issue of authority is in Genesis 2:16-17. Genesis 2 is the second telling of the creation story and has as its focus the creation of Adam and Eve in the Garden. In verses 16 and 17, God commands Adam and Eve, “Eat from every tree in Paradise, but from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil do not eat.” For Luther the pronouncement of this edict signals the institution of authority within the human community by establishing the authority of the church and the home. The church is brought into being by the proclamation of the Word (that is, the edict) to Adam. The authority of the home is established because Adam alone hears this Word and must then communicate it to Eve; thus husbands instruct their wives.

Absent from this prelapsarian institution of authority is any sense of restriction, punishment, or chastisement that attend authority after the Fall. In a sense, here, we see only the edifying use of authority:

Adam had need of this command concerning the tree of knowledge of good and evil; namely, [so that] there should be an outward form of worship and an outward work of obedience toward God. . . . Who, then, is either so ignorant or so deranged as to conclude from this that no Law was given to Adam when he hears it stated that Adam was righteous? For nothing else follows from this than that the Law given to the unrighteous is not the same Law that was given to righteous Adam. Moreover, when a Law is given to righteous Adam, it follows that this is a different Law from the one which later was given to the unrighteous.18

The law “do not eat” provides Adam and Eve with parameters in which to live and serves to guide them in right living and the right worship of God.19 Thus, for Luther, authority is part of God’s original plan for creation. Creation is to have order and direction; however, there is no need of the convicting aspect of the law (its first use) or of the political use of the law as a deterrent to crime (its second use). These aspects only become essential to life after the Fall.

For Luther, the effects of the Fall are devastating in their totality. The imago Dei is shattered, and from then on, humanity is bound to sin. As an alleviation to this depraved state, God offers the law: now experienced, however, as judgment, conviction, and punishment. Once sin enters the picture, the aspect of the law as edifying fades into the background before its first two uses. In Genesis 9, Luther turns to examine these aspects of authority.

Genesis 9 records the postdeluge covenant between God and Noah. God begins by pledging, “never again to destroy all living creatures” and then commands Noah and his family to be “fruitful and multiply.” Because homicide threatens the latter command and flaunts the former promise, God further commands that those who take human life must give their own as punishment. For Luther, the imposition of the death penalty signals the establishment of the political use of the law (that is, the institution of governmental authority): “Here we have the source from which stem all civil law and the law of nations. If God grants to man power over life and death, surely he also grants power over what is less, such as property, the home, wife, children, servants, and fields. All these God wants to be subject to the power of certain human beings, in order that they may punish the guilty.”20 Had there been no Fall, there would be no murder or sin, and thus there would have been no need for government.21 All of government’s activity flows from its authority to wield the sword in order to punish the wicked. This understanding of governmental proper authority is wholly consistent with the “early” Luther. Throughout his life Luther understood the role of government to be a gift from God as “an outward remedy” to sin.22

Soon after Luther addressed the establishment of temporal authority, he turns to discuss its proper use by way of exegeting an example of its flagrant abuse. He uses the story of Nimrod as a backdrop for this discussion. Nimrod is the son of Cush and is portrayed in Genesis 10 as a great hunter and the founder of the Babylonian empire.23 Luther uses Nimrod as an example of authoritarian avarice, for “Nimrod was the first after the flood to strive for the sovereignty of the world.”24 Nimrod seeks his own glory and thus becomes the first postdeluge tyrant. He does so by overthrowing his brothers and cousins and usurping their authority. For Luther the most significant aspect of this usurpation is Nimrod’s rebellion against Shem.25

As the father of the Semite peoples, Shem is the embodiment of God’s priesthood. When Luther looks at Nimrod he sees many of his contemporaries; that is to say, men who are unsatisfied with what they have and seek to grab what does not belong to them: “Not satisfied with his tyranny in the state, he also wants to be lord in the church. He sets up new forms of worship, and he oppresses those who stand before God. Moses clearly distinguishes how a thing appears before God from how it appears before men. What is good and righteous before God the world always regards as evil and unrighteous.”26 In the Lectures on Genesis, the essential nature of tyranny is the inappropriate meddling of one kingdom (the prince-Nimrod) in the other (the church-Shem).27 This usurpation is especially troubling to Luther because it jeopardizes not just the lives of its victims but their very souls. For this tyrant, “does not hunt hares, deer, or boars, as the hunters do; but he lies in wait for the righteous, the holy, the prophets, and the priests of God. He hunts, traps, and kills those who are dear to God, who have faith, and in whom God Himself dwells through His Spirit.”28 The danger of mixing the two kingdoms is that it confuses Law and Gospel.

The theme of Law and Gospel recurs throughout the Genesis Lectures. However, Luther chooses the story of Jacob’s blessing of Joseph’s second son Ephraim rather than the first-born Manasseh in Genesis 48:17(29) for his most detailed exegesis of the topic. What is important about this story is that both men are “very spiritual men”; neither is a tyrant or an ally of the devil. Both are good, upright, God-fearing men, and yet the disagreement between them is great. How is such a situation possible, for this is not the first time it has occurred; Abraham disagreed with Sarah and Isaac disagreed with Rebecca. The answer lies in the distinction between the Law and Gospel, for in each case of disagreement one participant sides with human law, tradition, and natural right while the other places his or her trust in God’s promise.

God promised to make of Abraham a great nation. Prematurely, Abraham sought to accomplish this through his servant Hagar. Thus, Ishmael was Abraham’s first-born son, and Abraham sought to bless him. Sarah, however, denied the legitimacy of Ishmael and advocated for her son, Isaac. Choosing Ishmael represents tradition (for legally Abraham was right and Sarah was not); Isaac represents God’s promise that was, incidentally, made to both Abraham and Sarah. Likewise, Isaac and Joseph both seek the bestowal of blessing on their eldest sons (Esau and Manasseh, respectively). Luther finds much to praise in the actions of Abraham, Isaac, and Joseph. Human tradition and custom have much to offer and should not be cast aside:

The doctrine of the Law should be retained because it is necessary for the preservation of discipline. Therefore the Law should be kept very rigidly, just as Abraham upholds Ishmael, Joseph upholds Manasseh, etc. For the Law must not be cast aside because of the promise of grace; but it must be taught in order that discipline and the doctrine concerning good works may be retained, and in order that we may be instructed to know and humble ourselves after we have sinned. This is the true and necessary use of the Law. For in this life we need government and parents, who uphold discipline by means of rewards and punishments and who keep the Law and govern and direct their conduct in a godly and prudent manner according to the norm of the Law.30

Thus law has a powerful and fruitful role to play in human affairs, but its authority is not absolute. It is counterweighted by the Gospel.31

Human tradition advocates primogeniture, “but the divine blessing prefers the other son.” The Gospel comes contrary to our expectations. It is mercy when we ought to expect (because we deserve) condemnation. It is hope when we seem trapped in despair (Anfechtungen). Here in some of the last writings of Luther, we find again the Theology of the Cross. Because of humanity’s fallen condition, one can neither understand the redemptive word nor see God face to face; instead one sees only the backside.32 Thus, God reveals himself where it seems he should not be,33

But Jacob replies: “I understand, my son, that you are defending the right of primogeniture according to the Law, which you want to be preserved and honored. And it is also my wish that it be firm and immovable. But now it is not the time and place for the Law. No, this is the time and place for the divine blessing, which is not subject to laws or to our right or our wisdom.” Accordingly, he does not reject Joseph’s opinion but leaves the matter undecided; he does not abolish the Law but carries out the business of the promise.34

This understanding of the important distinction between Law and Gospel has important implications for Luther’s understanding of the relationship between the state and the believer. First, it reinforces the danger of mixing the Two Kingdoms.35 For example, if princes attempted to run states by the Gospel’s call to turn the other cheek, mass exploitation and sin would result, and if pastor’s governed the church by the sword, the message of free grace would be hopelessly lost.36 Second, this highlights the futility of attempting to coerce the conscience. The state may demand outward conformity, but it can never subjugate the will or the heart. God has given the secular prince the power of the sword for the maintenance of order and justice.37 Authorities ought to devote themselves to that and leave the proclamation of the Word to the church and the disposition of souls to God. The wisdom here is simple, yet profound: pastors make poor kings, and kings make poor pastors.38

II. Luther and the Cura Religionis

The consistency apparent in Luther’s discussion of authority, the distinction of the secular and the sacred, and the separation of the Law from the Gospel requires us to re-examine the proposed turn to the cura religionis in the 1530s. To accomplish this, however, we must examine one other aspect of Luther’s thought in the Genesis Lectures-natural law. Natural law is not a subject much discussed in reference to the Two Kingdoms. It is an unspoken assumption-there, yet not widely discussed. Why then is it crucial here? Simply put, the argument that Luther abandoned the Two Kingdoms in favor of the cura religionis stands or falls on the proper consideration of Luther’s conception of natural law.

The argument in favor of the turn to the cura religionis rests on Luther’s exegesis of Psalms 8239 and 101.40 Both Psalms lend themselves to the discussion of authority, government, and justice. Luther uses Psalm 8241 as an opportunity to instruct the authorities (a Furstenspiegel) of his time in the just administration of society because of its focus on the establishment of justice and the responsibility of the community to care for the needy and weak. Psalm 10142 is even more amenable to the instruction of authorities because it is a royal psalm of David on the nature of kingship and may, in fact, be an ancient Israelite oath taken by kings when they ascended to office.

Two events precipitated Luther’s writing of the exegesis of Psalm 82 in 1530. First, the exegesis is a response to the deplorable conditions witnessed in the 1529 Saxon church visitations. second, it is also a response to a 1530 controversy in Nuremberg concerning the right of secular government to enforce religious conformity.4′ These two events, however, cannot be separated from the impending Diet of Augsburg. On January 21, 1530, Charles V summoned an imperial Diet to meet in Augsburg on April 8th. The fundamental task to be addressed by the Diet was the Turkish threat. For Charles, the best way to meet the threat was to secure internal unity. Religious discord and internal political fraction are not the foundation stones upon which one hopes to lay a successful campaign against the “invading infidel.” The designation of the Turkish threat and the desire for unity as the central concerns of the Diet placed the evangelical princes in a particularly difficult situation by forcing them to defend their right to reform (ius reformandi) religion in their realms. These three events thus forced Luther to consider the prince’s responsibility to religion (that is, the cura religionis) and to defend the ius reformandi.

Luther begins with some general comments about the fundamental responsibilities of secular authority; he then moves on to discuss the role and function of princes specifically. Concerning authority, Luther argues first that it is established to provide order and maintain the peace (82:1). Second, it must wield the sword with justice and according to the statues and laws of the nation (82:1). Building on these general principles, Luther next examines the prince specifically. He begins by arguing that princes ought to be godly and ought to “repress the godless” (82:2). To accomplish this, the prince ought to see to it that “God’s Word is protected and supported” (82:2). Given this assertion, it seems on first reading that Luther plainly adopts the view that a prince should regulate religion and ensure religious conformity within his realm. However, the case is not as clear-cut as one might think. While Luther certainly makes statements that imply a fairly vigorous cum religionis,44 these statements cannot be understood separate from their context.

In Rhetoric classes, one learns early on that to accept the opposition’s first premise is folly. In this case, the discussion at hand seems to be the toleration of religious minorities and the inappropriate use of the sword in religious affairs. For example, Georg Frolich, the author of the 1530 Nuremberg tract Whether Secular Government has the Right to Wield the Sword in Matters of Faith, writes,

But the New Testament speaks of two kingdoms on earth, mainly the spiritual and the secular. The spiritual kingdom is the kingdom of Christ in which Christ is the king. Similarly, the secular realm also has its king, namely the emperor and other authorities. . . . From this it is clear that Christ does not wish the sword of the secular government to be used to root anything out of his kingdom, but wishes rather to do combat there solely by his word until the end of time.45

This quotation could easily have come from the pen of Luther, and Frolich intends it that way. he argues that “fighting for or against the true faith, the one as well as the other, constitute interference in Christ’s kingdom and rebellion against it”;46 thus religious minorities must be tolerated. However, Luther consistently rejected a priori categories, and does so here.

Though Frolich writes about tolerance for all religious minorities, the issue in Nuremberg was really about the toleration of Anabaptists.47 Refusing to fall into Frolich’s rhetorical trap, Luther does not discuss religious tolerance broadly conceived, but rather Anabaptism and religious radicalism in particular. Thus, Thomas Muntzer and Andreas Bodenstein von Karlstadt lurk in the background of this text. An awareness of this context then clarifies Luther’s language. How should a prince “support and defend God’s word?” Luther asks. He must punish sedition, rebuke blasphemy, and ensure that those who preach have proper authority to preach.

That heresy and disbelief lie beyond the jurisdiction of the prince is clearly true, and to attempt to force one to believe is foolishness. However, not all heretics are created equal. A simple heresy of works righteousness is not the same thing as the heresy of Anabaptism. Because Anabaptists call into question the legitimacy of government and attempt to place themselves beyond the authority of the magistrate, they are not “heretics only, but rebels, who are attacking the rulers and their government, just as a thief attacks another’s goods, a murderer another’s body, an adulterer another’s wife; and this is not to be tolerated.”48 Beliefs are private and untouchable, but actions and words have repercussions that must be clearly and forcefully addressed. The care of religion in this case is not so much the care of religion as it is the assurance that governmental authority is not overthrown; so that while from the outside it looks like the prince has overstepped his bounds and meddled in religion, he really has not.49

But, what of blasphemy? The civil government’s authority traditionally extends to the second table of the law. The commandment against Blasphemy is on the first table. How can Luther legitimately argue that punishing blasphemy is a civil affair? The answer to this question lies in Luther’s understanding of natural law. Luther uses the phrases, “natural law,” “laws of nature,” and “command of God” 583 times in the American Edition of his works. Their occurrences stretch from the very earliest writings to the very last. Across these thousands of pages and decades of work, one thing remains clear: blasphemy is not like the other prohibitions on the first table. Rather, blasphemy belongs with those aspects of the second table made known to all people.50 In 1525 in the tract, “How Christians Ought to Regard Moses,” Luther writes, “To be sure, the Gentiles have certain laws in common with the Jews, such as these: there is one God, no one is to do wrong to another, no one is to commit adultery or murder or steal, and others like them. This is written by nature into their hearts; they did not hear it straight from heaven as the Jews did.”51 Thus, for Luther, blasphemy, together with theft, murder, and adultery, was not simply a matter of conscience, but a matter of civil violation.

While we may view this position as incompatible with his Two Kingdoms, he certainly did not. For Luther, as well as all of his contemporaries (witness that Calvin’s Geneva burned Servetus to the universal acclamation of Christendom), blasphemy was of a completely different order than, for example, keeping the Sabbath. Not only was blasphemy a violation of natural law, but in the worldview that Luther inhabited, it also ran the risk of fierce divine punishment.52 When these two contexts are fully appreciated, Luther’s remarks in Psalm 82 are not the deep bow to the cura religionis they seem to be at first.

Close reading of Psalm 101 finds many of the same issues still in play. Nearly five years after the Psalm 82 commentary, Luther is nevertheless concerned about the same fundamental issues at stake in the late 1520s. Psalm 101 is dedicated to John Frederick of Saxony and was published in 1534. Luther wrote it following the death of John Frederick’s father and his ascension to the electoral office. At the time, John Frederick was a mature adult and a dedicated Lutheran. Luther’s thoughts, then, are not issued in the midst of a particular crisis or to an unseasoned leader, but are instead offered to a faithful prince as he accepts a weighty responsibility. As such, Psalm 101 is more tempered and measured.

Luther begins by warning John Frederick to avoid the major pitfall of authority-arrogance. Arrogance will lead to the belief that one is competent in affairs that one has no business meddling in:

[Many in authority] would have liked to see themselves alone be masters on earth . . . and in this that have truly succeeded, to such an extent that fifty percent or more of the secular leaders have forgotten their own duties and have occupied themselves with the church and with Masses, while the clergy have in the same measure given up their priestly duties and have busied themselves with hunting, waging war, and such utterly secular affairs.53

This sad state of affairs has led to a deplorable mixing of offices and thus a profound negligence of their rightful duties. With this sad state before him, then, Luther moves on to advise John Frederick in the wise administration of his office.

He begins by reminding John Frederick that kings and princes have been given a great responsibility and with it tremendous power. This power must be administered with “mercy and justice.” Too much justice (that is, law and punishment) will lead to tyranny. Too much mercy will fill the world with “wicked rascals.” John Frederick must seek “moderation in all things.” If he reigns in such a manner, he would truly be a blessing to his people. This course is not easy, however, and so Luther urges John Frederick to pray constantly for God’s grace.54

Luther then moves on to offer more specific advice. First, a ruler must rule discreetly, uprightly, and be attentive to God’s Word. In other words, the ruler must not place himself beyond the admonition of God’s Word. Too often, Luther felt, rulers ignored God’s Word and ruled according to their own wisdom. This neglects a great resource. Second, the ruler must punish blasphemy and those who despise God. Here he echoes his sentiments in Psalm 82, but here we also gain some insight as to why this is even necessary. For if knowledge of God is natural, why then do some fall into blasphemy instead of mere idolatry? The answer is that natural law and reason are not equally apprehended by all, for the world is full of “fools and children.” Thus God has created things in “such a way that men are not alike and that one should rule while the other should obey him.”55 Instruction, thus, as well as just punishment, is an end in the chastisement of blasphemers. Finally, the just ruler must punish lawbreakers and shun the company of the immoral. Nearly all the rest of Psalm is devoted to warning John Frederick against the “confusion and mingling of the secular and spiritual realms.”56

III. Conclusion

As Luther concluded his work on Genesis in the early fall of 1545, he had one final occasion to return to the issue of government and religion.57 The context is chapter 49. This is a pivotal chapter in the Pentateuch, for it is the deathbed blessing of the Tribes of Israel by Jacob. The text lends itself to a discussion of the Two Kingdoms, because of the blessing bestowed upon the House of Judah. Here, Judah is portrayed as the ruling house in the family of Jacob. Jacob prophesies that the scepter (or rule) of Judah shall not pass away until Shiloh shall come.

The text was understood in the early modern era in two ways. The beginning of the text was understood as a prophecy of David’s rule and kingdom. The end of the sentence was understood as a messianic prophecy (with Shiloh representing the Messiah) foretelling the Kingdom of Christ.58 This distinction between the kingdom of David and the Kingdom of Christ gave Luther a final opportunity to clarify the proper relationship between the weltliche Reich and the geistliche Reich. He begins by explaining that the Kingdom of David and the Kingdom of Christ cannot be the same because the historical record is clear: “The kingdom [of David] has fallen, the Jews have been dispersed and scattered over the whole world.” This kingdom of David “which was governed by arms, the sword, and violence has now ceased.” In its place, the Kingdom of Christ has been established. The Kingdom of Christ is not a kingdom of arms or the sword but “consists in hearing and obeying or believing the Word by which it is administered.” Luther writes, In the Word, therefore, there is a most powerful kingdom against death, sin, the devil, and all their tyranny, with power to save, to set free, and to defend for eternal salvation. About these things the rabbis know nothing. Nor do the papists or the Turks. But it is our duty to inculcate these matters diligently and to heed this striking difference between the kingdom of Christ and that of others, even David’s. For this is what Jacob means: “The kingdom of my son David, which cannot be administered without the sword and arms, will not endure; but the kingdom of . . . (Shiloh) will follow, and it will be governed by the Word alone.” Thus Christ says: “Go into all the world and preach the Gospel to the whole creation” (Mark 16:15). For that Word is most powerful. It is able to save from the hands of death and the devil as well as from the power of hell, and to translate into the kingdom of God. To this king, then, the nations shall listen; that is, they will be ruled by the Word. The work will be done through preaching. This will be the mark distinguishing the kingdom of Christ from the empires of the world, which are ruled by the sword and physical might. . . . For the Gospel is something heard (Euangelium enim est auditio). . . . It is not with the sword, not with fire, not with violence but with listening or hearing and with the doctrine of faith that . . . (Shiloh) will rule. And not only the Jews but all the peoples of the whole world will obey Him.59

Luther’s distinction between a kingdom of force and a kingdom of the Word was more germane to the political situation around him than at any other time since he began his Lectures on Genesis. As he wrote, the signs of impending doom for the Reformation were rising significantly on the horizon. Already by mid 1545, the emperor had (due largely to Philipp of Hesse’s bigamy) pacified the Schmalkaldic League, suppressed the Reformation in the duchy of Julich-Cleves, obtained the support of King Francis of France for a campaign against the Protestants, and secured his border with the Turks. For the first time in his reign, Charles was now in a strong enough position to fulfill the pledge to destroy Luther’s reforms that he had made in Worms in 1520.60

As this crisis edged toward the boiling point, Luther set out once again the fact that the conscience cannot be compelled. Force and might rightly belong to the weltliche Reich, but when force is used to compel belief, it corrupts the gospel into law. Luther’s point seems plain enough; the emperor may march into battle to destroy the Reformation, but he will ultimately fail because he has chosen the wrong weapon for this war. “The kingdom of Shiloh is a kingdom of the Word; for He calls and rules the peoples by the Word alone, without arms and force. But those who refuse to hear the Word do not belong to the kingdom of Christ. Therefore a people should allow itself to be drawn by the Word, not slavishly forced by scourges, prison, and floggings as men in worldly empires are compelled to obedience by force.”61

While it is certainly true that the cura religionis and the landesherrliche Kirchenregiment came to dominate religious and political life in the Holy Roman Empire following the Peace of Augsburg in 1555, I see no strong evidence to support the view that this would have been welcomed or much appreciated by Luther.62 For Luther, the involvement of princes in religious affairs was always a matter of emergency. He never intended it to be a permanent state of affairs, and, as we have noted here, he repeatedly resisted efforts to coerce religious uniformity and belief by force.63

Notes

1. This essay was originally presented at the Tenth International Congress for Luther Research in Copenhagen, Denmark in August 2002.
2. Bernhard Lohse, Martin Luther’s Theology: Its Historical and Systematic Development, trans. and ed. Roy A. Harrisvillc (Edinburgh: T and T Clark, 1999), 3-6.
3. The list of detractors is far too large to list here. For Muntzer, see “A Highly provoked Vindication and Refutation of the unspiritual, soft-living, Flesh in Wittenberg, whose robbery and distortion of Scripture has so grievously polluted our wretched Christian Church,” in The Collected Works of Thomas Muntzer, trans. and ed. Peter Matheson (Edinburgh: T and T Clark, 1998), 324-50. For a recent example of this argument, see Richard Marius, Martin Luther: The Christian between God and Death (Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University, 1999).
4. Peter Frarin, An Oration against the Unlawful Insurrection of the Protestants of our Time (Antwerp, 1566). This tract is available through Early English Books Online ( www.eebo.org).
5. For a recent example of this, see Allster E. McGrath, Reformation Thought: An Introduction, 2nd. ed. (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993), 209 f.: “Luther reinforced [the princes'] political authority by grounding it in divine providence. God governs the world, including the church, through the princes and magistrates. The church is in this world, and so must submit itself to the world order. . . . The way was [thus] opened to the eventual domination of the church by the state, which was a virtual universal trait of Lutheranism. The failure of the German church to oppose Hitler in the 1930s is widely seen as reflecting the inadequacies of Luther’s political thought.”
6. See, James Estes, “The Role of Godly Magistrates in the Church: Melanchthon As Luther’s Interpreter and Collaborator,” Church History 67:3 (1998): 463-84.
7. Estes rightly notes that a comprehensive examination of Melanchthon’s thought regarding the civil magistrate has yet to be written. For general introductions, see Franz Lau, “Melanchthon und die Ordnung der Kirche,” in Phillip Melanchthon: Forschungsbeitrage zur verhindertsten Widerkehr seines Todestages, ed. Walter Ellinger (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1961); Timothy Wengert, Human Freedom, Christian Righteousness: Philip Melanchthon’s Exegetical Dispute with Erasmus of Rotterdam (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998); and again Timothy Wengert, LHZU and Gospel: Philip Melanchthon’s Debate with John Agricola of Eisleben over Poenitentta (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 1997).
8. See Estes, “Godly Magistrate,” 473 f.
9. In the course of reassessing Luther’s commitment to the Two Kingdoms, this essay also contributes to the continuing conversation regarding the veracity of the Lectures on Genesis. In 1936, Peter Meinhold (Die Genesisvorlesung und ihre Herausgeber [Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1936]) argued that Luther’s Lectures on Genesis could not be trusted to present an accurate representation of the “late” Luther. He argued that followers and supporters of Philip Melanchthon edited the Lectures in an attempt to bolster their arguments against Gnesio (or “True”) Lutherans in the theologically volatile years following Luther’s death. By examining the degree to which Luther either continued to use the Two Kingdoms doctrine as a framework for discussing religion and the state in the Genesis Lectures or abandoned it in favor of the cura religionis, we cannot only assess the degree to which the late Luther is consistent with the young Luther but also test Meinhold’s thesis. The degree to which government could regulate religion was fundamental to the disagreements between Melanchthon and the Gnesio-Lutherans, especially during the conflicts over the Augsburg (1548) Interim and the so-called Leipzig Interim. If, as this essay argues, there is a consistent use of the Two Kingdoms throughout the Genesis Lectures, then Meinhold’s thesis is undermined because if editors had manipulated the text to serve their theological debates, a natural (indeed crucial) area for revision would have been the discussion of religion and the state. One must also ask why, if the editors did manipulate the text, did staunch Gnesios find the Genesis Lectures worthy of translation. Robert Kolb (Martin Luther as Prophet, Teacher, and Hero: Images of the Reformer 1520-1620 [Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 1999], 145 f.) notes that Basilius Faber, one of the authors of the Magdeburg Centuries, translated into German and introduced the Genesis Lectures. For a further discussion of the reliability of the Genesis Lectures, see Bernhard Klaus, “Die Lutheruberlieferung Veit Dietrichs und ihre Problematik,” in Zeitschrift fur bayerische Kirchengeschichte 53 (1984): 33-47. See also, Martin Brecht, Martin Luther: The Preservation of the Church, 1532-1546, trans. James L. Schaaf (Minneapolis, Minn.: Fortress, 1993), 136-41. Here quoting from page 136, “These great lectures are unquestionably monumental documents of Luther’s mature theology, and they also reflect his participation in the developments, problems, and conflicts of the last decade of his life.” Brecht then goes on to explain the concerns regarding the Genesis Lectures and concludes, “Nevertheless, the bulk of this commentary, with its amazing richness of features and allusions, undoubtedly does come from Luther, and his spirit is evident in it. Despite the subsequent alterations, this monumental work may still be regarded as primarily his work and thus as a useful source.” See also, Ulrich Asendorf, Lectura in Biblia: Luthers Genesisvorlesung (1535-1545) (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1998). See 33 f., for a discussion of Meinhold’s thesis. See 248 f., for a discussion of the Two Kingdoms in the Lectures on Genesis.
10. In this regard this essay also contributes to the debate about how much Luther really changed his positions regarding the status and role of the civil magistrate in ordering the religious life of the community. In Tyranny and Resistance: The Magdeburg Confession and the Lutheran Tradition, (St. Louis, Mo.: Concordia, 2001), I argued for an overall consistency in Luther’s thought, while others such as Cargill Thompson (Luther’s Political Thought) have argued for a dramatic change. By comparing some of Luther’s statements on secular authority written in the 1520s to ones written in the 1540s, this essay furthers the discussion of whether or not Luther did indeed remain consistent or whether he changed his position dramatically over time. Thus we hope to test Helmar Junghans’ thesis that what appears to be a change in position may not in fact be one. He writes, “Luther often took up questions of the day and dealt with them. The manner in which the questions were formulated changed in the course of his life. Accordingly, he wrote repeatedly about the same subject, but not always with the same goal nor always with the same tone. Emphases were shifted. Taken out of context, some of his remarks appear to be contradictory and to signal great changes.” See, Helmar Junghans, “The Center of the Theology of Martin Luther,” in And Every Tongue Confess: Essays in Honor of Norman Nagel on the Occasion of His Sixty-fifth Birthday, eds. Gerald S. Krispin and Jon D. Vieker, (Chelsea, Mich.: Bookcrafters, 1990), 180.
11. I have chosen to continue using the phrase Two Kingdoms for two reasons. First, it is far better known and has far more literature devoted to it than do the more technically precise terms (Realm and Government); thus our discussion here can be more easily placed within that body of work. But, also, just as importantly, I believe the idea of the Two Kingdoms nicely apprehends the polyvalent nature of Luther’s thought on the Two Realms and the Two Governments. If we allow ourselves to be too distracted by the technicalities of Reich verses Regiment, we will fail to see the forest for the trees. The two ideas form a cooperative whole that can best be maintained by continuing to speak of Two Kingdoms. The literature on the Two Kingdoms is vast; some of the most important works on the subject include Paul Althaus, The Ethics of Martin Luther, trans. Robert C. Schultz (Philadelphia, Penn.: Fortress, 1972), and his “Luthers Lehre von den beiden Reichen im Feuer der Kritik,” Lutherjahrbuch 24 (1957): 40-67; Heinrich Bornkamm, Luther’s Doctrine of the Two Kingdoms in the Context of His Theology (Philadelphia, Penn.: Fortress, 1966); Thomas Brady, “Luther and Society: Two Kingdoms or Three Estates? Tradition and Experience in Luther’s Social Teaching,” Lutherjahrbuch 52 (1985): 197-224; W. J. D. Cargill Thompson, The Political Thought of Martin Luther, and his “The ‘Two Kingdoms’ and the ‘Two Regiments’: Some Problems of Luther’s Zwei-Reiche-Lehre,” Journal of Theological Studies 20 (1969): 164-85; Ulrich Duchrow and Wolfgang Huber, eds., Die Ambivalenz der Zweireicheslehre in lutherischen Kirchen des 20. Jahrhunderts, (Gutersloh: Gutersloher Verlagshaus, 1976); Gerhard Ebeling, “The Necessity of the Doctrine of the Two Kingdoms,” in Word and Faith, trans. James W. Leitch (Philadelphia, Penn.: Fortress, 1963), 386-406. More recent examinations include Robert J. Bast, “From Two Kingdoms to Two Tablets: The Ten Commandments and the Christian Magistrate,” Archiv fur Reformationsgeschichte 89 (1998): 79-95; William H. Lazareth, Christians and Society: Luther, the Bible, and Social Ethics, (Minneapolis, Minn.: Fortress, 2001); Karl-Heinz zur Muhlen, “Two Kingdoms,” in Oxford Encyclopedia of the Reformation, ed. Hans J. Hillerbrand, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996), 4:184-88, and David M. Whitford, “Martin Luther’s Political Encounters,” in The Cambridge Companion to Martin Luther, ed. Donald McKim, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 178-92.
12. On Temporal Authority (1523): “[God] has subjected [the wicked] to the sword so that, even though they would like to, they are unable to practice their wickedness, and if they do practice it they cannot do so without fear or with success and impunity.” Luther’s Works, ed. Jaroslav Pelikan and Helmut T. Lehmann (St. Louis, Mo.: Concordia, 1955-86), 45:91, (hereafter LW); and D. Martin Luthers Werke: Kritische Gesamtausgabe, 60 vols. (Wiemar: Bohlau, 1883-1980), 11:251 (hereafter, WA).
13. On Temporal Authority (1523): “For this reason one must carefully distinguish between these two governments. Both must be permitted to remain; the one to produce righteousness, the other to bring about external peace and prevent evil deeds. Neither one is sufficient in the world without the other. No one can become righteous in the sight of God by means of the temporal government, without Christ’s spiritual government. Christ’s government does not extend over all men; rather, Christians are always a minority in the midst of non-Christians. Now where temporal government or law alone prevails, there sheer hypocrisy is inevitable, even though the commandments be God’s very own. For without the Holy Spirit in the heart no one becomes truly righteous, no matter how fine the works he does. On the other hand, where the spiritual government alone prevails over land and people, there wickedness is given free rein and the door is open for all manner of rascality, for the world as a whole cannot receive or comprehend it” (LW 45:92, WA 11:252).
14. Whether Soldiers, too, Can Be Saved, LW 46:95. Translation altered; compare to “das sint der Apostel zeit das weltliche schwerd und oberkeit nie so klerlich beschrieben und herrlich geprciset ist . . . als durch mich” (WA 19:625).
15. “Advent Church Postils,” (1521), WA 7:502, 34 f.: “Quando autem pene universe scriptura totiusque Theologiae cognitio pendet in recta cognitione legis et Euangelii (Nearly the entire Scripture and the knowledge of all theology depends upon the correct understanding of law and gospel.)” Though nearly identical, this is not the Advent Postil on Matthew 11:2-10 translated in The Sermons of Martin Luther (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Books, 1996) 1:87-113. That sermon, which is for the same day and scripture, is later and considerably expanded.
16. Treatise on Good Works (1520): “Now this only indicates a few tasks for the government. But there are so many additional good works that every moment of their lives they have an abundant number of tasks and opportunities to serve God. But these works, like the others, should also be done in faith, in fact, as an exercise of faith, so that nobody thinks he is pleasing to God on account of what he does, but rather by a confident trust in his favor he does such tasks for a gracious and loving God and to his honor and praise alone. And in so doing, he serves and benefits his neighbor” (LW 44:97, WA 6:262 f.).
17. The best explication of the freedom of the Gospel is found in Luther’s Lectures on Galatians (2:21); the best example of his commitment to the principle of the freedom found in the gospel is in his response to the Wittenberg Disturbances. There in the Invocavit Sermons (LW 51:67-100, WA 10/3:1-64) we see that for Luther when the Gospel (or Karlstadt’s proposed church reform) is transformed from gift to requirement, the essence of the Gospel is sacrificed and abandoned. Luther’s disagreement with Karlstadt had little to do with the types of reform, or even really the speed of implementation. Where Luther found fault was in how the reforms were implemented and why. Luther himself had argued for Communion to the laity in both kinds; he was really indifferent about images and was open to clerical marriage. Karlstadt’s reforms were not the problem. For Luther, all of these reforms were opportunities for the congregation-not commands. Because of Karlstadt’s understanding of Christian Identity (see, Whether One Should Proceed Slowly), these reforms were not optional but necessary. Regardless of how well intentioned the reform, for Luther, if it was forced upon the conscience it was not a reform at all but a new law.
18. LW 1:109, WA 62:82.
19. That is to say, the Third Use of the Law. Luther never used the phrase triplex usus legis in this manner, but its essence is here depicted. For the paradigmatic expression of the Third Use, see John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion 2.7. In a sense Luther also expresses here the idea Karl Earth attempted to capture in his famous “Gospel and Law”; see Community, State, and Church: Three Essays. Intro.Will Herberg (Garden City, N.Y., Doubleday, 1960), and Church Dogmatics II/2 (Edinburgh: T and T Clark, 1957), chapter 8.
20. Genesis 9:6, LW 2:139, WA 42:361.
21. Genesis 2:16-17, LW 1:104, WA 62:79.
22. Genesis 9:6, “This text is outstanding and worthy of note; for here God establishes government and gives it the sword, to hold wantonness in check, lest violence and other sins proceed without limit. If God had not conferred this divine power on men, what sort of life do you suppose we would be living? Because he foresaw that there would always be a great abundance of evil men, He established this outward remedy, which the world had not had thus far, in order that wantonness might not increase beyond measure. With this hedge, these walls, God has given protection for our life and possessions” (LW 2:141, WA 42:361). This sentiment is exactly in keeping with his position in On Temporal Authority in 1523: “Hence, a man who would venture to govern an entire country or the world with the gospel would be like a shepherd who should put together in one fold wolves, lions, eagles, and sheep, and let them mingle freely with one another, saying, ‘Help yourselves, and be good and peaceful toward one another. The fold is open, there is plenty of food. You need have no fear of dogs and clubs.’ The sheep would doubtless keep the peace and allow themselves to be fed and governed peacefully, but they would not live long, nor would one beast survive another” (LW 45:91 f., WA 11:251 f.).
23. Genesis 10:8-11: “Cush became the father of Nimrod; he was the first on earth to become a mighty warrior. He was a mighty hunter before the LORD; therefore it is said, ‘Like Nimrod a mighty hunter before the LORD.’ The beginning of his kingdom was Babel, Erech, and Accad, all of them in the land of Shinar. From that land he went into Assyria, and built Nineveh, Rehoboth-ir, Calah, and Resen between Nineveh and Calah; that is the great city,” NRSV.
24. Genesis 10:8-9, LW 2:196, WA 42:400.
25. Luther makes n great deal out of the derivation of Nimrod (dwrmn) from dr’m (marad). Marad means to “fall away” or to “rebel.” See, LW 2:197, WA 42:400.
26. Genesis 10:8-9, LW 2:198, WA 42:401. Translation altered; compare to, “non contentus tyrannide in Republica, etiam in Ecclesia vult dominari, Erigit novos cultus, eos qui coram Deo sunt, opprimit. Nam Moses diserte distinguit duos conspectus, alterum coram Deo, alterum coram hominibus. Quod igitur coram Deo bonum et iustum est, id mundus semper iudicat malum et iniustum.”
27. The connection between tyranny and the usurpation of another’s jurisdiction was by the 1540s commonplace and is an allusion to the Saxon theory of resistance developed by Gregor Bruck and presented to Luther and others at Torgau in 1530. See David M. Whitford, Tyranny and Resistance, and “From Speyer to Magdeburg: The Development and Maturation of a Hybrid Theory of Resistance,” in Archiv fur Reformationsgeschichte, forthcoming.
28. Genesis 10:8-9, LW 2:197, WA 42:401.
29. Genesis 48:17-19: “When Joseph saw that his father laid his right hand on the head of Ephraim, it displeased him; so he took his father’s hand, to remove it from Ephraim’s head to Manasseh’s head. Joseph said to his father, ‘Not so, my father! Since this one is the firstborn, put your right hand on his head.’ But his father refused, and said, ‘I know, my son, I know; he also shall become a people, and he also shall be great. Nevertheless his younger brother shall be greater than he, and his offspring shall become a multitude of nations,’” NRSV.
30. Genesis 48:16-17, LW 8:170, WA 44:703.
31. Genesis 48:16-17: “The kingdom of grace is one thing, and the kingdom of the Law is another thing. The Law checks sin, shows the rod, and announces the wrath of God and punishment to those who sin. This is the proper office of the Law. It serves to restrain evil, stubborn, and smug sinners. But the kingdom of grace is a kingdom of mercy, of pardon, of redemption, and of liberation from sins and the punishments for sins” (LW 8:170, WA 44:703).
32. See Exodus 33 where Moses seeks to see the Lord face to face, but instead sees only his backside. See also Luther’s Heidelberg Disputation (1518): “He deserves to be called a theologian, however, who comprehends the visible and manifest things of God seen through suffering and the cross” (LW 31:40, WA 1:354).
33. See Theses 3 and 4 of the Heidelberg Disputation. Jos. E. Vercruyse, in “Gesetz und liebe, Die Struktur der ‘Heidelberg Disputation’ Luthers (1518),” Lutherjahrbuch 18 (1981):
34. Genesis 48:16-17. LW 8:175, WA 44:706.
35. An early example of the tragedy that results from mixing the Two Kingdoms is the Flood. When discussing the reasons for the Flood, Luther attributes primary causality to the mixing of the Kingdoms. Luther writes, “Moses is explaining the kind of power on which [giants of old] relied, namely, secular or worldly power. They despised the ministry of the Word as a worthless occupation. Therefore they seized upon a worldly occupation, just as our papists have done. . . . [These giants of old must be compared with the small church] who have neither prestige nor wealth but do have the Word. This is their only wealth, but it is wealth that the world both despises and persecutes. By contrast the nepiliym, or giants, not only usurp the glorious name of the church on the grounds that they are descended from the patriarchs, but they also wield authority. They are the lords, and with their power they oppress the wretched church. . . . Thus this passage presents a description of the sins besetting that age, namely, that they were men alienated from the Word and given over to their lusts and reprobate minds, men who sinned against the Holy Spirit with persistent impenitence, the defense of ungodly acts, and assaults on the acknowledged truth. Nevertheless, in the midst of all their blasphemous conduct they retained a reputation and distinction not only as secular government but also as church, as though they had been elevated by God to the position of angels. But when things had come to such a pass, when Noah and Lamech, together with their forefather Methuselah, were teaching in vain, God gave these people over to the desires of their own hearts (Ps. 81:12) and kept silence until they would face the Flood in which they were refusing to believe” (LW 2:36-38, WA 42:285-87).
36. Genesis 49:3: “This had to be done in this way, especially among the people of the Old Testament. Although there is mercy in this nation and forgiveness of sins, yet there is no pure mercy or the pure kingdom of the Gospel and grace; but there is also a part of the political kingdom, where there must also be examples of punishments. Here the executioner must wield the sword and make use of the gallows and the wheel to frighten and warn the others, even when the sin is forgiven. Thus although a thief is pardoned, nevertheless he is brought to the gallows. The sin of those who must suffer capital punishment is forgiven by God, but the executioner does not forgive it by not demanding the punishment ordained by the laws. The executioner does not forgive them; he gives them their just deserts. Thus Paul says: ‘He does not bear the sword in vain; he is the servant of God to execute His wrath, that is, to inflict punishment, on the wrongdoer’ (Rom. 13:4). Yet the thief and the murderer, etc., are not condemned if they repent and believe in Christ. Nor do they feel the shame of the gallows after death. But their descendants should look at this and reflect: ‘If you steal, you, too, will suffer like punishment/ This doctrine is necessary and must by all means be retained in the world. They say that as often as Emperor Maximilian passed a place of public execution, he uncovered his head and saluted it with these words: ‘Hail, holy justice!’ For if there were no punishments and executions, we would achieve nothing with our sermons and the forgiveness of sins, and the populace would abuse the doctrine of the mercy of God for boundless license to sin” (LW 8:205, WA 44:728 f.). For an early example of this line of thinking, see On Temporal Authority (1523): “If anyone attempted to rule the world by the gospel and to abolish all temporal law and sword on the plea that all are baptized and Christian, and that, according to the gospel, there shall be among them no law or sword-or need for either-pray tell me, friend, what would he be doing? he would be loosing the ropes and chains of the savage wild beasts and letting them bite and mangle everyone, meanwhile insisting that they were harmless, tame, and gentle creatures; but I would have the proof in my wounds” (LW 45:91, WA 11:251).
37. See Genesis 9:6: “In this connection the following difference must be maintained between the authority of God and that of human beings: even if the world should be unable to bring a charge against us and we should be guiltless before the world, God still has the power to kill us. For sin, with which we were born, makes us all guilty before God. But hviman beings have the power to kill only when we are guilty before the world and when the crime has been established. For this reason courts have been established and a definite method of procedure has been prescribed. Thus a crime may be investigated and proved before the death sentence is imposed. Therefore we must take careful note of this passage, in which God establishes government, to render judgment not only about matters involving life but also about matters less important than life. Thus a government should punish the disobedience of children, theft, adultery, and perjury. In short, it should punish all sins forbidden in the second Table” (LW 2:140, WA 42:360).
38. Genesis 48:20: “Therefore our theology and the New Testament should give special emphasis to this part of the heavenly doctrine, although the Law must be taught too. But the kingdom of God does not consist in the Law; it consists in the Word of the promise. Today it is commonly said: ‘He loves the Word. he loves the Word of the Gospel, or the ministry/ But in the papal decretals and canons you will not find even a syllable about the Word. They thunder only about the confession of sins, contrition, satisfaction, obedience to the pope, and the observance of monastic rules. But there is the deepest silence concerning the promises. Accordingly, the papal kingdom was a horrible devastation of the church, and even now promise is an unheard-of word to the pope and the cardinals. But although our kingdom of the New Testament should stress the doctrine of the Law to preserve discipline and civil obedience and the honor due to magistrates and parents, the kingdom of God does not consist in these things; it consists in the Word, that is, in the promise, which is the true and proper ministry of the New Testament” (LW 8:181, WA 44:711).
39. WA 31/1:189-218, LW 13:41-72.
40. WA 51:200-264, LW 13:145-224.
41. “A Psalm of Asaph. God has taken his place in the divine council; in the midst of the gods he holds judgment: ‘How long will you judge unjustly and show partiality to the wicked? Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked/ They have neither knowledge nor understanding, they walk about in darkness; all the foundations of the earth are shaken. I say, ‘You are gods, sons of the Most High, all of you; nevertheless, you shall die like men, and fall like any prince/ Arise, O God, judge the earth; for to thee belong all the nations!” NRSV.
42. “I will sing of loyalty and of justice; to you, O Lord, I will sing. I will study the way that is blameless. When shall I attain it? I will walk with integrity of heart within my house; I will not set before my eyes anything that is base. I hate the work of those who fall away; it shall not cling to me. Perverseness of heart shall be far from me; T will know nothing of evil. One who secretly slanders a neighbor I will destroy. A haughty look and an arrogant heart I will not tolerate. I will look with favor on the faithful in the land, so that they may live with me; whoever walks in the way that is blameless shall minister to me. No one who practices deceit shall remain in my house; no one who utters lies shall continue in my presence. Morning by morning 1 will destroy all the wicked in the land, cutting off all evildoers from the city of the Lord,” NRSV.
43. See James Estes, “The Role of Godly Magistrates in the Church,” 474. For the Nuremberg documents, see James M. Estes, Whether secular Government has the right to Wield the Sword in Matters of Faith: A Controversy in Nurnberg, 1530, (Toronto: Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies, 1994). See also Lazarus Spengler’s letter to Veit Dietrich (WA 31/1:183-84). The best timeline seems to imply that Luther began to work on the exegesis in late 1529 following the visitations. By March 17, 530 we know (via Spengler’s letter) that a draft version was underway. The events in Nuremberg (which began in the early spring of 1530 and were reported to Wittenberg by March 17) may have caused Luther to revisit the exegesis. The text was completed before Luther left for Coburg on April 3, 1530. By June 2 the first edition had sold out.
44. For example, in exegeting verse two he writes, “For if God’s Word is protected and supported so that it can be freely taught and learned, and if the sects and false teachers are given no opportunity and are not defended against the teachers who fear God, what ercater treasure can there be in a land?” (LW 13:52. WA 31/1:199).
45. Whether Secular Government has the Right to Wield the Sword in Matters of Faith, in Estes, Controversy in Nurnberg, 42 f. In the Controversy in Nurnberg volume, the author of the text in question is referred to as “Anonymous Nurnberger.” Only recently has Estes (in a magnificent example of historical detective work) identified Freilich as the author. See James Estes, “Introduction,” Godly Magistrates and Church Order: Johannes Brenz and the Establishment of the Lutheran Territorial Church in Germany, 1524-1559 (Toronto: Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies, 2001), 17, n. 27. Full details for the attribution of authorship will be published in Lazarus Spengler, Schriften 3 (Gutersloh: Gutersloher Verlagshaus, forthcoming).
46. Frolich, Secular Government, 45.
47. Estes, Nurnberg Controversy, 12, n. 11.
48. “Psalm 82:4,” LW 13:61, WA 31/1:208.
49. See Bernhard Lohse, Martin Luther’s Theology, 319: “What induced him to [appeal to the temporal arm for aid] was no longer the idea that a territory had to be confessionally self-contained, but that Thomas Muntzer had called for a general uprising, and for this reason the debate with him had to be carried on not merely theologically, but also politically and militarily. To exercise tolerance toward Muntzer would have spelled outright surrender on the part of the Saxon church and the elector. With his two-kingdoms doctrine Luther with full and objective right opposed Muntzer and his revolutionary spiritual Christianity with ‘rationality,’ with the legitimacy of the temporal power and its function in establishing order.” Lohse sees a difference, however, between Muntzer and the Anabaptists. Lohse argues that Luther’s response to Anabaptism calls into question his own presuppositions. I am not convinced, however, that Luther saw any difference between Thomas Muntzer and Michael Sattler. Both were equally dangerous. Luther, I think, would have argued that this suspicion was confirmed in Munster.
50. In The Ethics of Martin Luther, Paul Althaus (29) claims that natural law included both tables of the law. I remain unconvinced. While in Against the Heavenly Prophets (LW 40:98, WA 18:81), Luther does state that the Natural Law is confirmed and restated in the Decalogue of Moses, I do not believe that this is the same thing as stating the content of the one is identical to the content of the other.
51. LW 35:164, WA 16:372. This sentiment is expressed throughout Luther’s career; other examples include in the 1537′s Die erste Disputation gegen der Antinomer (First Disputation Against the Antinomians), “Decalogus vero haeret adhuc in conscientia. Nam si Deus nunquam tulisset legem per Mosen, tamen mens humana naturaliter habet hanc notitiam, Deum esse colendum, proximum diligendum.” (The Decalogue is lodged in the conscience. If God had never given the Law of Moses, the mind of man still has the knowledge that God is to be worshiped and our neighbor is to be loved.) WA 39/1:374, and from ca. 1543, Lectures on Genesis 32:12, “Thus all men naturally understand and come to the conclusion that God is some kind of beneficent divine power, from whom all good things are to be sought and hoped for. God is One who promises, and He is truthful, that is, He makes promises to all men in the law of nature, which says: ‘Call upon God, or worship Him”‘ (LW 6:113, WA 44:84). This text is particularly interesting because Luther differentiates between the simple idolatry and blasphemy. Idolatry is misplaced worship; blasphemy is outright disregard or contempt for God’s person. For Luther, blasphemy was far more serious.
52. For an interesting contemporary account of the dangers befalling those who anger God, see Basilius Manner’s Eedencken vonn dem Kriege/ der Anno /ec. sechs/siben/ vnd viertzig im land zu Meissen vnd Sachsen gefulejhrt ist/wo fur erzuhalten sey/gestatt (Basel, 1557), which highlights the disasters that befell those who sided against the Protestants in the Schmalkaldic War; see especially F1^sup r^-F4^sup v^. For a discussion of this pamphlet, see Robert Kolb, “The Legal Case for Martyrdom: Basilius Monner on Johann Friedrich the Elder and the Smalkald War,” in Reformation und Recht: Festgabe fur Gottfried Seebaß zum 65. Geburtstag, ed. Irene Dingel, Volker Leppin, and Christoph Storhm (Gutersloh: Chr. Kaiser, 2002), 144-60. I wish to thank Prof. Kolb for providing me with a copy of the essay before it was published.
53. Psalm 101, “Preface,” LW 13:146, WA 51:201.
54. Psalm 101:1, LW 13:152f., WA 51:206.
55. Psalm 101:1, LW 13:159, WA 51:212.
56. Psalm 101:5, LW 13:196, WA 51:240.
57. Luther began his Genesis Lectures in June of 1535; by January 1545 we know from a letter he sent to Wenceslaus Link that he had begun chapter 45. He completed the entire project on November 17, 1545. Given this time frame, he was probably on chapter 49 sometime in September or early October 1545.
58. For a contemporary example of this exegetical tradition, see John Calvin’s Commentary on Genesis: “For (as I have just hinted) the origin of the kingdom in David is not here promised, but its absolute perfection in the Messiah.”
59. Genesis 49:10, LW 8:239, WA 44:758. Translation altered; compare to: “Est igitur regnum polentissimum in verbo contra mortem, peccatum, et Diabolum, et universam tyrannidem eorum cum potentia ad salvandum, liberandum et defendendum in salutem aeternam. . . . De his Rabini nihil sciunt, nec Papistae, nec Turcae. At nostrum est ista inculcare sedulo, et hanc insignem differentiam regni Christi et aliorum, etiam Davidis, observare. Hoc enim vult Iacob: Regnum filii mei Davidis, quod sine gladio et armis non potest administrari, non durabit, sed sequetur regnum Schilo, quod solo verbo gubernabitur. Sicut inquit Christus: ‘Ite in orbem universum, et praedicate Euangelium omni creaturae,’ Id enim verbum potentissimum est, quod potest salvare de manibus mortis et Diaboli, ac potentia inferorum, et transferre in regnum Dei. Huic igitur regi erit audientia populorum, hoc est, verbo regentur. Es wirt mit predigen zugehen, erit nota discernens regnum Christi a mundi imperiis, quae reguntur gladio et vi corporali. . . . Euangelium enim est auditio. . . . Non gladio, non flamma, non vi, sed audientia sive auditu et doctrina fidei regnabit Schilo, et obedient ei non solum Iudaei, sed omnes populi totius orbis terrarum.”
60. Deutsche Reichstagsakten: Jungere Reihe, Hrsg. durch die Historische Komission bei der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1962-), 2:594-96; English trans. Oscar Thulin, A Life of Luther, (Philadelphia, Penn.: Fortress, 1966), 66: “You know that I am descended from the most Christian emperors of the noble German nation, from the Catholic kings of Spain, the archdukes of Austria and the dukes of Burgundy. . . . I am determined to support everything that these predecessors and I myself have kept. . . . For it is certain that a single friar errs in his opinion which is against all of Christendom and according to which all of Christianity will be and will always have been in error both in the past thousand years and even more in the present. For that reason, I am absolutely determined to stake on this cause my kingdoms and seigniories, my friends my body and blood, my life and soul,” and Deutsche Reichstagsakten, 2:645; English trans. De Lemar Jenson, Confrontation at Worms: Martin Luther and the Diet of Worms, (Provo, Utah: Brigham Young University Press, 1973), 101: “For this reason, we forbid anyone from this time forward to dare, either by words or deeds, to receive, defend, sustain, or favor the said Martin Luther. On the contrary, we want him to be apprehended and punished as a notorious heretic, as he deserves.”
61. Genesis 49:10, LW 8:239, WA 44:758.
62. I believe that John Witte, Jr. has demonstrated with particular clarity and precision that the real development of the cura religionis can best be seen not among the theologians but among the jurists. See his Law and Protestantism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000); see especially chapter 1 where he lays out the ways in which the jurists move beyond and expand upon Luther.
63. Two events can serve here as examples. First in 1526, Luther refused to endorse Philip of Hesse’s Reformatio ecclesiarum Hassiae written by Lambert of Avignon at Philip’s behest. Even though the Reformatio sought to enact many evangelical positions, Luther rejected it and urged Philip not to enforce it because of coercive measures involved in it. (See D. Martin Luthers Werke: Briefwechsel, 15 vols. (Wiemar: Bohlau, 1930), 3:157-58 (hereafter WA Br). The second episode is from 1543, here Luther objected to Maurice of Saxony’s excommunication order because secular authorities were called upon to implement the order. (See WA Br, 10:436).

Via Church History, Volume 73; Issue 1; ISSN: 00096407. David M. Whitford is an associate professor of Philosopy and Religion at Claflin University.

Christian worship that is evangelical is nothing but “that our dear Lord himself speaks to us through his holy Word and we respond to him through prayer and praise” (LW 51, 333). Nothing else should ever happen there. [So Luther preached at the dedication of the Castle church in Torgau Oct 5, 1544.] Christ says, “I forgive you,” and we say, “Amen.” A little child knows this. True worship depends upon getting a trustworthy word from God. You are at his mercy in that regard. So what exactly does our dear Lord say to you when he speaks? “In the former days, in many and various ways, God spoke to our ancestors by the prophets, but in these latter days he has spoken to us by the Son” (Hebrews 1:1). God who is extravagantly rich in his grace has given you the following specific words for your worship (that is, for you to trust):

First, the preached word: “Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, “was handed over to death for [y]our trespasses and was raised for [y]our justification” (Romans 4:25).

Second our Lord says: “He who believes and is baptized shall be saved; but he who does not believe will be condemned.” Third Christ says, “given and shed for you for the remission of sins.” Fourth “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained” (John 20:23) If these words were not enough, again Christ promises: “Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”

True worship requires these specific words from God that sinners cling to for life. The true Sabbath—your only “true holy relic, above all holy relics.” (Large Catechism, 3rd Commandment, 91, 399, Kolb and Wengert): “By it all the saints have themselves been made holy…all our life and work must be based on God’s Word if they are to be God-pleasing or holy… for this Word is not idle or dead, but effective and living.” Worship is God daily putting the old sinner to death and raising the new saint and to both we say: Amen!

But the history of worship is the history of not trusting his word—it is always the most religious among us who run off looking for better words: producing heaps of human traditions and enthusiastic, spiritual personalities that we substitute for our Lord’s own holy word. That is, idolatry. Why? Because we don’t like God’s given words and prefer our own. Nor does the devil ever rest in this regard. One of Luther’s greatest writings on worship (commentary on Deuteronomy) highlights this temptation to false worship in the dramatic story of Baal Peor (Number 25):

The Israelites were encamped at Shittim across from Jericho; while waiting instructions to go in to the promised land, they took up with the native women of Moab “These invited the people to the sacrifices of their gods, and the people ate, and bowed down to their gods. So Israel yoked himself to Baal of Peor. And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel.” (Numbers 25:2-3). God instructed Moses to hang all the chiefs of the people who led them to this. And all Moab devotees of the Baal were killed. But One Israelite decided to flout this specific word from God, because he was in love I suppose, and brought his Midianite girlfriend into the camp, “in the sight of Moses and the whole congregation.”

[Now if this were a Hollywood movie, everyone would first be taken aback by the foreigner in their midst, and then we would learn that she was really a great person with a funny Midianite personality, and everyone would live together in diversity and peace—just like “South Pacific”—as if worshipping all Gods together makes for peace on earth.] But this story ends differently. Phineas, Grandson of Aaron the high priest, took up a spear, “and pierced both of them, the man of Israel and the woman, through her body. Thus the plague was stayed from the people of Israel. Nevertheless those that died by the plague were twenty-four thousand.” (Numbers 25:8-9). From this I conclude: God is serious about this worship business! God must be given his due! It is as serious as the first commandment, in which all the others are found, “Thou shalt have no other God before me.” So when people go mucking with your hymnal and service book you ought to know. I also conclude that people constantly prefer something other than what God says, and inevitably in their search for better words they reverse the direction of worship—worship always becomes what we offer to God rather than what God commands and gives us. Beneficium becomes sacrificium. Or as Melanchthon once put it: we always prefer being “for” priests like the Levites—who sacrificed for sinners rather than “to” priests who stand up facing sinners and give God’s words to them (Apology XIII).

God’s own direction for worship follows the line of the incarnation—from heaven down to you while you are yet sinners. Lutherans are meant to help the whole world (ecumene) get the worship direction right by hanging tightly to God’s preached words: God comes down to us in his Son, then by sending his preacher—we don’t go up to him. So we are to help distinguish what religions constantly confused: proclamation is not prayer; faith is not love, gospel is not law, a gift cannot be both given and received at the same time—and yet churches and world are all tangled up in confusion over these by pursuing their own words in worship. Lutherans should be helping the whole world and its churches, but we have grown tired of being salt and want to be the meat, grown tired of being leaven and want to be the loaf in what today is called “an ecumenical spirit.”

I would much prefer starting in a different place than I do tonight, but like a doctor lancing a boil I must first do some messy work before things can get better and I can just tell you about Christ and what he has done for you. Some of the same forces in the ELCA that brought you Called to Common Mission (CCM) (and the Formula of Agreement) will soon make up their own form of blessing of same-sex unions. And again some of those same basic forces behind those two developments in our churches are now in the process of giving you a new hymnal. The number of people behind this new hymnal is small, but they are single-minded and determined to win the day by adhering to the sworn oath of the liturgical and ecumenical movements: lex orandi lex credendi—the way you pray is what you believe. “You don’t have to believe it, you just have to do it,” should sound familiar to you. “It doesn’t matter who puts his hand on you at ordination, just concentrate on your mission.” Over time the way you pray, your repeated ritual acts of liturgy produce new beliefs. CCM is already doing that with our young people, next will be the new hymnal. As the stepping-stone to a new hymnal we now have a series of books called “Renewing Worship.” These books (three of them already) are prepared by a very small group, the key members being experts who call themselves “liturgists.” These liturgists are not your normal academic types. They are prophets on a mission. They put most of us to shame for their willingness to work and sacrifice for their cause, because in their minds they are God’s own instruments to mend a broken church by instituting one eucharist in each place presided over by one authorized bishop so that when performed properly there will be one church–visible on earth as in heaven. This small group operates with three basic principles that run throughout the pinkish colored book published by the ELCA called Principles for Worship:

First, multiculturalism in song and liturgy is itself “mission.”

They believe they are harvesting the seeds that were sown during the “past three decades [that] have seen not only a growing ecumenical consensus, but also a deepened focus on the church’s mission to the world.” [A new movement!]

They believe in what they call “a renewed understanding of the central pattern of Christian worship” (this is an unfortunate search begun in a handful of monasteries by erstwhile monks searching for the original shape of all human worship in all religions—that original shape is then presumed to be brought to its pinnacle in what is called the action of the “eucharist”). These beliefs have present and future consequences for the way you worship. Lutherans have a very clear teaching about church that is “the assembly of saints in which the gospel is taught purely and the sacraments are administered rightly” (CA VII). But in this new material we get new “principles” of worship like this: “Because we cannot fully comprehend the mystery of God, the language of worship on the one hand points to and evokes the God who surpasses all understanding.”[1] Liturgy “points to and evokes God”—my, what have we Lutherans come to? We have become peeping Toms trying to catch God in a moment of unguarded mystery while unpreached! To the contrary, we already have a clear word from God that our sins have been laid on Christ—and that is to be given for you as a promise! Worship is not pointing and evoking mystery! It declares. The authority for teaching in these Renewing Worship books is given over to what they call the “worldwide ecumenical discussion” as in Principle L-8 where they attempt to explain why we should keep baptizing in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit since so many people don’t like to say “Father” anymore: “Most church bodies”, following Matthew 28, have baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son and the Holy Spirit.” Then they quote from ecumenical movement’s Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry document: “While a worldwide ecumenical discussion is now underway about such language [apparently with the outcome in some doubt!], we have no other name in which to baptize than the historic and ecumenically received name.” By what authority do we baptize in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit? Scripture is gone; your confessions vanish—when someone questions the administration of the sacrament what authority do you call up? The worldwide ecumenical discussion now under way, and in the meantime we do “what most churches are doing”! The problems in this material are like Abraham going out on a starry night and numbering the stars! We cannot name them all, but the main problem with the ELCA’s Renewing Worship movement is that all these principles are built into one document that surpasses all others in authority: The Use of the Means of Grace statement accepted by the 1997 Churchwide Assembly of the ELCA. It’s argument is more pointed and directly opposed to the Confessions:

The Use of the Means of Grace begins with a quotation from the Apology XIII (in almost direct parallel with the introduction to the LBW): We believe we have the duty not to neglect any of the rites and ceremonies instituted in Scripture, whatever their number. . . .”

“Not neglecting any rites and ceremonies” (Principle 1) is a phrase that is then taken out of context to assert (Principle 2) that the Word and sacraments are “given to the church.” The church then must see that they are “not degraded by sin,” (Background 2C) and so exercises an authority over the sacraments: “As a church in this time, we seek to give and receive God’s Word and sacraments as full and reliable signs of Christ.” [The same thing can’t be received and given at the same time! God alone gives his word, the church receives it, and this is hardly “signs,” but Christ himself.]

Then we watch the given commands and promises of God fall like dominoes before the church’s own vaunted authority: Any changes in worship have to be for the purpose of “unity amidst diversity,”[2] not for “merely antiquarian or legalistic interests” [Goodbye Reformation and good riddance!] (Principle 4, Background 4A).

Then they give what they call the basic shape of liturgy in two parts: Part I: Word “read and preached” and Part II: “sacraments celebrated” (Principle 6) There is that word that turns the worship direction backward: from us to God. They are not longer given, but “celebrated.”

Principle 34: Nevertheless the two parts “form one act of worship” –so liturgy is a whole mystery action that we do.

Principle 36 introduces the term “eucharist” “to see that the whole meal is a great thanksgiving for creation and for creation’s redemption in Jesus Christ.”

Principle 40: Introduces a priest presiding at Holy Communion as a “witness that this sacrament is a celebration of the Church, serving, its unity…”and proclaims the Great Thanksgiving” (not Christ’s last will and testament).

Which finally leads to the purpose of this whole exercise: the holy grail of the Renewing Worship plan that they believe will re-unite the church into a visible whole: Principle 43: “The biblical words of institution declare God’s action and invitation. They are set with the context of the Great Thanksgiving. This Eucharistic prayer proclaims and celebrates the gracious word of God in creation, redemption, and sanctification.”[3]

The only thing that was missing from this worship laid out by the liturgical and ecumenical movement was to rejoin the historic episcopate so that we could become closer to the basic teaching: one Eucharist, one bishop, one church. There you have the foundation for your renewing worship materials. But if this is not bad enough, we have two flanks for this fight, not one: This liturgical movement that has separated from the Confessions, with its blessing of water before baptism, the required eucharistic prayer for joint communion services with Episcopalians, affirmations of baptism, removal of Lutheran catechetical hymns and the piling up of human traditions like the oil, the ever-present laying on of hands, and metaphors galore where once stood the name: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. But it is worse yet; on the other side of us we have the host of American religions and the corrosive melting pot of culture that seeks God inside yourself on your various spiritual journeys. They do not want a preacher; they want a personal, spiritual guide with visible gifts. Spiritualism like this wants no baked God, it rejects baptism, and does not want to repent and be absolved, it rather seeks what it thinks are higher and better words than Christ gave us, swallowing the Spirit feathers and all—it seeks its own self that it expresses to the outside world and demands that others worship their right to do so. [Luther rightly called it Fanaticism] With a whole host of problems on each flank what do we do? Just what the earliest Lutherans did: we preserve the Reformation and unleash the Gospel by using the Small Catechism. We do what Luther saw was necessary for his poorly taught German churches: “First, the German service needs a plain and simple, fair and square catechism.”[4] Well, so does the American worship service. We sometimes observe that the Reformation was preserved by the catechism, and so it was and so it must be today. Though these forces are great, they are no greater—maybe even less—than those faced by the Reformers. Despair is not allowed, since God’s word alone will stand against them—even though we have three forces seeking to destroy true worship and the teaching of it in the catechism. The self-named liturgical movement and ecumenical movement have studiously removed the catechism from your hymnal in order to make worship no longer an “ear house,” that hears the law and gospel in public proclamation, but instead makes it an “eye house”—a koinonia mystery cult called simply: “the eucharist.” It doesn’t want you to have the Apostle’s Creed as God’s work alone given “for you” in the present. They want to join your work and God’s. At the same time, the American spiritualists have removed your catechism from worship because they don’t like categorical preaching and sacraments—because they leave no room for the free will to cooperate with the Holy Spirit. Fanatics hate the sacraments and so remove them for purpose that they call getting “seekers” in or so that worship is not such a “downer.” Our culture has also worked to remove your catechism because it hates the Ten Commandments. To combat these enemies in their own day, the Reformers did two things with worship:

They took out noxious elements that couldn’t possibly stand because they moved in the wrong direction—from us up to God in the mode of sacrificing and by dissolving the word of God into our own work as church (this happens when the words being given by God end up as sacrifice, thanksgiving that we make to remember God, or an action of the church mystically uniting us with God). So they removed praying to saints, encrusting baptism with all sorts of unnecessary and dangerous symbols, and most importantly the canon of the mass or eucharistic prayer wherever it buried Christ and the publication of his last will and testament. The Lutheran Churches should never forget what Luther did when he first made the liturgy a “local option”–for there the canon of the mass was removed, and when it was gone, so went the papacy. At the same time it made the freedom regarding worship and liturgy an accomplished fact—gone were ordo and structures or “patterns of worship” that are supposedly done in all places and times. At the same time, local traditions all must be tested—“weigh it in the pan of God’s Word,” Luther said. That means everything in worship is tested as to whether it brings home the down-to-earth gift of our crucified and risen Lord and makes possible the faithful “Amen,” to him. Where traditions go in the wrong direction and oppose our chief article they must go. And whenever traditions, however, venerable are required, so too they must go. That means, whenever liturgical “may-be’s” (human traditions) are turned into “must-be’s” they cease to be free (adiaphora).[5] Then the Reformers did another thing even more important: they put in the catechism—in prayer and song and direct proclamation to sinners that makes the justifying faith. They preached the faith, and then they taught it that it might be learned and retained. Our constant re-translating has ruined our memory. Our hymnals have grown too large so that we might represent every possible group and belief under the umbrella of the ELCA, but they have removed direct, catechetical hymns, especially Luther’s. They also remove any reference to your Confessions, including the Small Catechism. Why? Because such confessional unity is viewed as the obstacle to visible union with other churches, liturgy must unite by expunging confessional particularity! Instead they put slogans: consensus of the first five centuries, historic episcopate, and “ecumenical consensus.” Now to glimpse how this is done, we may start with the first petition of the Lord’s Prayer:“Hallowed be thy name: God’s name certainly is holy in itself, but we ask in this prayer that we may keep it holy.” How does this happen? God’s name is hallowed whenever his Word is rightly taught and we as children of God live in harmony with it. Help us to do this, heavenly Father! But anyone who teaches or lives contrary to the Word of God dishonors God’s name among us, Keep us from doing this, heavenly Father!”

True worship requires a prior, first and final word of God. Without which you endlessly seek vainly inside yourself for God. But we have such a first word from God: “I am the Lord your God,” This Lord says two things: You shall have no other God before me—demanding complete trust in his word–and so this commandment includes all the others. [Law] But this same God who demands so much also gives all, and so we have our Creed: “I believe that Jesus Christ—true God, Son of the Father from eternity, and true man, born of the Virgin Mary—is my Lord. He has redeemed me, a lost and condemned person, saved me at great cost from sin, death and the power of the devil—not with silver or gold, but with his holy and precious blood and his innocent suffering and death.” [Gospel: The faith we have not, he gives—at great cost to himself, but declared freely to the ungodly he chooses by the proclamation itself.]

This simple starting place for true worship reverses the direction of all human “patterns” as liturgists call them. The direction of all worship is from God downward through the means of preached word and sacraments. We call it—the sacramental reversal. In every way we resist seeking better words, especially by multiplying of “metaphors,” creation of our own creeds, the flowering of ever new symbols, blessings of everything that moves in the new ritual de jour—laying on of hands, (which you are supposed to see as having many, many uses, not only for passing on the historic episcopate)!

God’s word is not only first, it comes in several specific, given, historical forms, and so does our little “Amen,” our response of simple trust. God speaks to us presently, directly, publicly (sometimes even individually), through the reading of Scripture, preaching, baptism, the Lord’s Supper and absolution. The benefit of each is Christ himself as our righteousness apart from works of the law, that means: When worship takes this direction, Christ comes to forgive your sin—and remember where there is forgiveness of sin there is also life and salvation! Our “Amen,” our clinging to this word comes out in spoken prayer, song, praise, thanksgiving, confession and petition (asking God for help). In these we:

Thank Christ for his benefits.

Confess our unworthiness.

And ask for more grace, more grace, more and more and more.

By speaking the first and final word—God creates us anew in faith itself; that means his word creates the church. [The Word alone creates churches. Baptism is never initiation into Church, nor do we “renew it” with our vows, nor does the event of eucharist make the church as a “ritual action.”]

Preaching

Enthusiasts of either the Roman or American spiritualists sort seek God within themselves (or the church) rather than in God’s external, preached word. You must rather come to worship to receive these gifts from God. Liturgism’s current attempt seeks to make the Lord’s Supper the highest form of “celebration”—preaching serving as only an entrance to this “feast.” Instead, proclamation must come first, in its oral, public form as public absolution of the repentant, public preaching, and in its form in the sacraments themselves: Lord’s Supper and Baptism. That is why Luther once said, “To correct these abuses, know first of all that a Christian congregation should never gather together without the preaching of God’s Word and prayer, no matter how briefly…”[6] Preaching is nothing else than God’s word in human words. It is sacramental in the sense of having an actual, red-blooded human using his or her voice to speak words into the ears, according to Christ’s promise: “he who hears you hears me” (Luke 10:16). Not just anything any preacher says is God’s word: The preacher must discern the law and gospel and not commingle them, for this reason preaching is always from the Bible text. In the law God sets out what is required of us, and what he holds against us—how he judges us. We hold the Ten Commandments ever near and help the flock know plainly God’s most salutary doctrine of life. The Gospel then raises us to new life from the condemnation of death by witnessing to the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ for sinners. The Holy Spirit makes these preached words effective in the heart where and when he wills, “for I cannot by my own understanding or effort believe in Jesus Christ my Lord, or come to him. But the Holy Spirit has called me through the Gospel, enlightened me with his gifts and sanctified and kept me in true faith.’ The Gospel in a nutshell always needs a giver—a proclaimer doing what Luther called the right application of the pronoun “for you.”[7]

Baptism

Our catechism teaches as the Bible does, “Baptism is nothing else than the Word of God in water.” It is God’s act for us in which he delivers us from death and the devil, and gives everlasting salvation to all who believe what he has promised. The promise is the thing! “Shall be saved.” It is, of course, witnessed to by the community of believers, but is not initiation into the group of the holy either by magical rites [why we do not bless the water] or adults making vows of fidelity to God. Baptism is never over and done with, but needs no “renewal,” instead it means “that our sinful self, with all its evil deeds and desires should be drowned through daily repentance; and that day after day a new self should arise to live with God in righteousness and purity.” Use it, not renew it. Bring forward the gifts of baptism. It is not past oriented, but future—not wiping the slate clean but the object to which you cling in times of trouble so to cling to God himself for you.

The Lord’s Supper

It is nothing else but the Word of God in bread and wine. Faith feasts on this promise “given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” For there Christ forgives your sin.

It is not eucharist—not our celebration that makes it what it is. That direction is wrong! The words of Christ at the Last Supper cannot be confused with prayer up to God.

Instead, the Lord’s Supper is Christ’s last will and testament, in which the maker of the will is Christ himself, who names his estate: “the forgiveness of sins,” and his heirs “given and shed for you”–who are after all his very betrayers. He also bestows this in the promise itself: “Given and shed for you,” beneficium, not sacrificium. With the seal of bread and wine. The direction is always from God to us, the act of his giving, his promising to sinners. Not prayer.

The Absolution (or Confession and Forgiveness)

Uses the keys of the kingdom given by God so that in human voice God’s forgiveness is given to sinners. Absolution brings forward the gifts of baptism, the Christian life being the daily return to the first promise of baptism. The declaration of forgiveness is the real thing in absolution by which God works repentance and does not count the trespass. The word accomplishes what it says—ending the sinner and creating the saint.

And so we do not despise this promise, but give it and use it—publicly and privately,

We do not think of starting our service here as “negative,” or “premature,” nor is it a mere prelude to the Lord’s Supper as if you must be made holy before receiving communion. For all these things that make worship we need an external preacher, outside ourselves bringing the external word. The ministry is instrumental in God giving us his words—the instrument of God to give these words. It is not part of our prayer or sacrifice of praise to God. This confusion makes “for” priests rather than “to” priests who believe they are mediators who sacrifice on our behalf—and is the great problem for worship life of the CCM and romantic liturgical movement—for they cannot distinguish our prayer from God’s proclamation and God’s word is lost in a fog of ritual holiness that is nothing more than a sect making its own form of worship. So the true church created by God’s word is commissioned by God to witness in word and deed that salvation is by Christ alone by giving the gospel in oral proclamation and the sacraments (CA 5). This is the right and duty of all believers (the priesthood of all believers). But to assist and enable the community in this proclamation there is the office of the pastor whose particular calling is the public proclamation of God’s word in preaching and administration of the sacraments (CA 14).

Finally, after all this, we come to Faithful Response to the Words: Our Amen.

God commands us to pray and promises to hear our prayers. Prayer is nothing but opening your sack wide and asking for help, calling out to God in expectation of his interceding graciously on your behalf (even with sighs and groans too deep for words, Romans 8). Thanksgiving delights in God’s benefits already given in Christ, and so waits with great anticipation for seeing what we now have in faith. Offerings and “thanksgivings” of prayer do not complete a great ritual circle or appease God’s anger—they are fruits of faith meant to help others.

So here is my plea: Lutherans, let’s get the direction right in worship, and refuse the religious sounding innovations of the Renewing Worship movement. The church and world cannot survive attempting to worship a mysterious God that is not preached by coaxing him out by our thanksgiving. So let us return to our catechism and from it learn again how God has come down to get you while your are ungodly. Ludwig Helmbold put it in this catechetical hymn (1594):

Lord God, keep us for evermore
in catechism doctrine pure—
that through your Luther is made known
for simple youth to make their own.

The Ten Commandment here we learn,
repent of sin, and so discern
to live by faith in you alone,
the Father, Son, and Spirit, one.
Our Father, source of heavenly grace
we pray to you before your face,
that we (baptized) may come to be
fulfilled in Christ eternally.
And when we fall, we seek relief
and make confession, with belief,
and take the Body and the Blood.
 Amen. God grant our end be good.[8]

Footnotes


[1] Principle L-5, Principles for Worship, Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, 2002.
[2] Changes in sacraments should be for “unity amidst diversity,” not for “merely antiquarian or legalistic interests” Principle 4, Background 4A, Principles for Worship.
[3] In application 43A: “The full action, from dialogue through the Lord’s Prayer, including the proclamation of the words of institution, is called the Great Thanksgiving. Our congregations, synods, and churchwide organization are encouraged to use these patterns of thanksgiving.” The reference is to the Apology again, article 24. 76—not actually printed out, but here is the full quotation: “There are also statements about thanksgiving [among the Fathers], like that very beautiful statement of Cyprian [pseudo-Cyprian] concerning those who receive the sacrament in godly fashion: ‘He says, In returning thanks to the Giver for such an abundant blessing, piety divides its thanks between what has been given and what has been forgiven.’ That is, piety focuses on what has been given and what has been forgiven; it compares the greatness of God’s blessings with the greatness of our ills, our sin and our death, and it gives thanks. From this the term ‘Eucharist” arose in the church. Nor is the ceremony itself a giving of thanks ex opere operato that can be applied for the benefit of others in order to merit the forgiveness of sins for them, etc. or in order to free the souls of the dead. The theory that a ceremony could somehow benefit either the worshiper or anyone else without faith conflicts with the righteousness of faith.” But the use in Means of Grace above misses that this thanksgiving either comes after or is simply the whole “ceremony.” “Remembrance” is not like seeing a play. It is not the “eucharistic prayer,” as it has come to be used in modern liturgical renewal. In fact that is what “conflicts with the righteousness of faith,” because it gets the direction wrong.
[4] LW 53, 64.
[5] But whenever local traditions and liturgies meet the criteria—free and true to the gospel—then they should not be altered by anyone without the consent of the congregation using them.
[6] Concerning Public Worship, Leisnig
[7] So, Luther’s catechetical hymn “Preserve us, Lord, by thy dear Word, from Turk and pope defend us, [perhaps we could update, fanatic and liturgist]…. (Translation from Robert Wisdom 1560, in Leaver, 397).
[8] Her Gott, erhalt uns für and für for Teaching Children the Catechism from Ludwig Helmbold (1594) (trans. Robin Leaver) In Robin Leaver, “Luther’s Catechism Hymns,” in Lutheran Quarterly XI, 4 Winter 1997, 405-6.

If a particular historical confession does not actually belong to the essence of the church of Christ, then it does however belong to the essence of the Lutheran Church. By “Lutheran Church” we mean that segment of Christendom which accepts as scriptural the great doctrinal decisions of the Lutheran Reformation, as they are recorded in the Lutheran confessions. As we determine this, so we guard against the misunderstanding which appeared in the Lutheran church of the 19th century, that the church be like a type of association and the confession, so to speak, the rules of the organization, as a political party has a platform as a type of worldly confession. Such a party or association is indeed held together by such rules, as its individual members declare their joining based on such rules. Hardly any other misunderstanding of the Lutheran confession has damaged our church like this one. The confession of the church is never, like the rules of an association, the expression of the opinions of individuals who link themselves together into a body. It is the expression of the consensus about the correct faith, brought about by the Holy Spirit. It must be noted that the confessional writings are not caused by the Holy Spirit, but rather the faith, to which they attest, and the consensus of faith in the community of the church. The riddle, which is inconceivable to the world, of how the confession of personal faith by the individual Christian – nobody else can believe for me – can be, at the same time, the confession of the entire orthodox church , is explained by the fact that the Holy Spirit always does both at the same time, as Luther says it so well in the explanation of the third article:

…the Holy Spirit has called me by means of the gospel, enlightened me with His gifts, sanctified and kept me in the correct faith, just as He calls, gathers, enlightens, sanctifies, and keeps all Christendom with Jesus Christ in correct, unified faith.

This distinguishes the true ecclesiastical confession from the pseudo-confession of modem protestant churches, those formulas of compromise, which serve more to veil unbelief than to confess belief, formulas, in which one attempts to bring the religious views of many individuals together under a common name. The Lutheran confessions did not come about in this way. Even the introductory sentence of the Solid Declaration may not be understood in such a manner:

The primary requirement for basic and permanent concord within the church is a summary formula and pattern, unanimously approved, in which the summarized doctrine commonly confessed by the churches of the pure Christian religion is drawn together out of the Wordof God …. In the same way we have from our hearts and with our mouths declared in mutual agreement that we common confessions which have at all times and in all places been accepted in all the churches of the Augsburg Confession … and which were kept and used during that period when people were everywhere and unanimously faithful to the pure doctrine of the Word of God …

Neither the common agreement of the authors of the Formula of Concord, which the signatories approved, nor the determination that the church needed a “summary formula and pattern, unanimously approved” can be interpreted in this sense, as if the confession were a party platform or an association’s rule, arising from the will of individuals who set a norm for themselves. Already the fact that “we believe, teach, and confess” contradicts such a view, the phase with which the doctrinal decisions of the Formula of Concord begin corresponds to the great “we” which is the speaking subject in all great confessions of the church, from thepisteuomen of the Nicene Creed to Luther’s hymnic form of the credo: “we all believe in one God” and to the ecclesiae magno consensu apud nos docent of the Augsburg Confession. The Lutheran confession, understood in this sense, belongs indeed to the essence of the Lutheran church. It alone makes it into that which it is. Our church is essentially a confessional church in a sense in which neither the Catholic nor the Reformed churches are – because all these churches have, in addition to their confession, something else, which characterizes them in their uniqueness and holds them together: their constitution, their liturgy, their discipline, or whatever else. The Lutheran Church does not have all that. It is part of its understanding of the divine Word, of the distinction between Law and Gospel, that it finds no laws in the New Testament about church constitution, church discipline, and liturgy. It can live with presbyteral, episcopal, or congregational forms of constitution. Its liturgical possibilities reach from Swedish high-churchliness to the liturgy-lessness of W ürttemberg. It has only its confession. If Gospel and sacrament are the notae ecclesiae, by which we recognize the presence of the church of Christ, then the notae ecclesiae Lutheranae, the trait by which we recognize whether a church is Lutheran or not, is the Lutheran confession. Inasmuch as we determine this, we do not need, after all that has been said, to protect ourselves primarily from the misunderstanding, that we would place the notae of the invisible church of God on the same level with the traits of earthly historical ecclesiologies. We believe the church of God to be in, with, and under the earthly ecclesiologies, because we see the Gospel and the sacraments there, and insofar as we see the Gospel and the sacraments there. The confession, by which we recognize the Lutheran church, is for us nothing else than the “Yes!” to this Gospel and to these sacraments.

What is it then, which binds together all these various forms of the individual ecclesia? It is not the form of organization. It is the fact that in a delimited circle of Christians, who come together into entirely concrete assemblies, the means of grace are administered, and what makes this possible is done. It is namely of the essence of the means of grace that they can only be administered among living persons, from man to man. The Gospel is spoken orally from one man to another man. Baptism can not be imparted in the absence of the one to be baptized. We must gather together to celebrate the Supper. The forgiveness of sins can not be imparted by letter – or only in special exceptional cases. Here is the essence of the Christian congregation, the individual ecclesia. It is the place where everything happens which Christ has bestowed upon His church with the means of grace. Without them it would not happen. There would be no Una Sancta if there were no individual congregation. And therefore the legitimate Christian congregation is the greatest and most glorious thing in Christianity. It is more than the greatest conceivable and most glorious representation of the church in its totality, which could exist. If a genuine ecumenical council were brought together, at which Christianity were ideally to appear without the dark shadows which have thus far been cast upon every council, the council would be nothing over against the divine service of an ever so simple genuine Christian congregation. For no ecumenical council can forgive sins, nor exercise the office of the keys. No Roman council would even claim that for itself, nor would the college of cardinals ever presume to forgive sins.

Only from this vantage can we understand the essence of the individual ecclesia, the “congregation,” “local congregation,” or whatever else we may call the concrete church of God. In the individual ecclesia that happens which is to be done in the church. There is preaching, baptism, absolution, the distribution of the body and blood of the Lord. There are the functions of the ministerium ecclesiasticum, the service of Word and Sacrament instituted for the church. There is exercised what for Luther and the Lutheran Confessions is church governance, the leading of the flock of Christ through Word and Sacrament. What we in modern Christianity have been accustomed to call church governance , stands without exception not over, but under the congregation as assisting service for it. The exception is the ordination of the pastors through bearers of the office appointed for it. But those who ordain are also nothing else and have no higher rank as pastors. Here something takes place in the life of the congregation which does not belong to it, but its effect is bound to the decisive cooperation or indeed initiative of the congregation. But as for the rest, the following applies: Church governance, properly speaking, belongs to the individual congregation. It is the entity which exercises thepotestas clavium which is given to the entire church. This can be done by no synod, no consistory nor the bishop as church regent, but only as pastor and Christian.

Finally, honored brothers, allow me to raise a question directed to us all. Who actually represents the Lutheran Churches of the world today? Who is it who speaks and acts in the name of the churches? Who ever it may be, there are two entities in our time which certainly do not do so. It is not the Christian congregation [Gemeinde]. And it is not the Pastoral Office. Neither will be represented in Hanover. Naturally the parishes of the Hanover area will flock to the capital and take part by the thousands in the mass events. But they will be represented as little as the many pastors who will come to Hanover for the decisive sessions of the World Federation. Indeed, that would be logistically completely impossible, even if it were the desire of all participants for the pastorate and church membership to take part as much as possible. And here we come up against an important phenomenon of more recent church history, which must be much more carefully noted than has been the case. The development of modern super-churches [Massenkirchen] and the application of technical means for bringing together, influencing and leading men, in regard to the church, has directly and strongly displaced two significant factors, which together, according to Lutheran doctrine, fulfill the proper life of the church: the congregatio sanctorum. These are the congregation [Gemeinde], and the ministerium ecclesiasticum, the Pastoral Office [Pfarramt]. Both no longer take part in the great ecclesiastical decisions of our time, at least in Europe. Any knowledge the congregations have obtained of the EKiD and the VELKD is from the ecclesiastical press. Most of the congregational members have no idea what these are. They were not asked. Neither were the pastors asked whether they approved of these decisions. And they were crucial decisions rendered regarding their Office and its obligations. They must be satisfied that everything has taken place in a lawful manner. The territorial synods [Landessynode] prepared a corresponding resolution. In Bavaria, this synod, if I am not mistaken, consists of some 70 to 80 elected members. These individuals represent well over a million church members. There is no court of appeal against this ecclesia repraesentativa. Perhaps there is no other possible way to govern such an enormous apparatus. But then one should not be amazed when the general priesthood of believers dies. Nor are the pastors questioned [regarding what takes place]. They are instructed, schooled, and if necessary, warned and punished. But a small group of men render decisions for the consciences of thousands of bearers of the Office. Is it an accident that in the more recent history of the church the Pastoral Office in no way plays the roll which was self-evident in previous centuries? There are still pastors in Europe: in Scotland, in Holland, in France, in Switzerland. These are men who are still responsible for ecclesiastical decisions, who still represent their churches. In Sweden, in Denmark and now also in Germany, the church is represented by Bishops and the other “church leaders.” The individual pastor is nothing. He can obtain something only as part of a large group such as the pastoral conference [Pfarrerverrein]. When the bishop has won his pastoral conference for something, then everything is in order. But the pastoral conference has made no ordination vow, thus it can not break it. And the bishop? We were so proud in Germany when we again had bishops. An entire theology of the office of bishop has been developed. The enchantment with the title of bishop is so great that even the Lutheran Churches of America are playing with the idea of granting it to their presidents occupying chief offices. It has thus far broken down over the episcopal office as an essentially life long office. But one must be clear that the essence of the bishop’s office encompasses the episcopal functions of ordination and visitation with his legitimate pastoral office. Even to the time of Augustine “bishop” was the title of the local pastor. The characteristic of the modern territorial bishop in Germany and, on a certain level, the office of a president of one of the churches in America which consist of many synods, is however, this: he exercises neither official pastoral nor episcopal functions or only does so in exceptional cases. In Bavaria the circuit deacons [Kreisdekane], and in Hanover the territorial superintendents are the real bishops. They ordain and visit. The bishop sweeps over the entire church and its affairs [Kirchentum] as “church leader.” This was perhaps a necessary development. At any rate, such an organism must be governed. The real tragedy, however, is that this [development intended] as a support for the Spiritual Office, has actually served to bring about the broader secularization of the church.

One must have this tragic development before one’s eyes in order to grasp what the duty of the Lutheran Pastor is. We must, honored brothers, seek to save the Office of the Lutheran Pastor which threatens to go under in modern ecclesial secularism, so far as this is humanly possible. The highest virtue of the pastor today appears to be silence, even in once so democratic America. The modern type of the Lutheran Pastor began in Germany in the First World War, when so many theologians became reserve officers. In America it began and in the Second World War, when so many pastors became chaplains in the military. Here they learned, along with the virtues of being an officer, also the virtue of silent obedience. But every virtue has its down side, and the down side of mute obedience can be that the pastor becomes a mute dog, that he become silent even where it is of his office, mandated by the Lord Christ, to speak. It appears that much of the difficulty, which has come upon the Lutheran Church, has its origin in this false silence. Let us in this fateful year of the Lutheran Church, in view of the threatening de-confessionalization of Lutheranism, fearlessly say what must be said also to the great and powerful in the church. We do not know for how long we will be able to continue to do so.

Useful and Necessary Observations Drawn from the Rules Which Have Been Given

1. Regarding the external (ad extra) works performed with respect to creatures when only one person is mentioned, or two, or when the entire Trinity is understood: Thus in the Creed the Father is called the Creator, but not to the exclusion of the Son or the Holy Spirit. For of the Son it is said in John 1:10, “He was in the world, and the world was made through Him;” and in Heb. 1:2, “Through whom also He made the worlds.” And of the Holy Spirit it is said in Ps. 33:6, “By the Word of the Lord were the heavens made and by the Spirit of His mouth is all their power.” Gen. 1:26, “Let us make man,” speaks of all three persons in the Godhead at the same time.

Thus providence and the sustaining and conservation of things are often attributed to one person, and yet it is the common work of the whole Trinity. Concerning the Father, Christ says in Matt. 6:26 and 10:29, “A sparrow does not fall to the earth without the will of your Father.” Of the Son it is said in Heb. 1:3, “Upholding all things by the Word of His power.” And of the Holy Spirit it is said in Ps. 104:30, “Send forth Your Spirit and they will be created, and You will renew the face of the earth.”

2. Gregory of Nazianzus notes that sometimes Scripture mentions the three persons, as “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” and at other times as two persons, as in the exordia of the epistles, “Grace be unto you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ,” and at still other times as one person, as at the close of the Pauline epistles, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you,” This way of speaking at times preserves the order of the persons, as in the preceding examples, and at other times is indifferent to the order, as when, the name of the Son is placed ahead of the name of the Father in 2Cor: 13:14, “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all.” Likewise when the name of the Holy Spirit is placed ahead of the name of the Son, as in Eph. 3:16-17, That you may be strengthened in the Spirit, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith.” That is to say, Scripture bears witness that the three persons and the entire Trinity are the one true God, and that each person is perfectly and in all respects that one true God. For when in John 10:30 the Sons says, ” I and the Father are one ,” He is not excluding the Holy Spirit. For in 1John 3:24 it is said, “By the Spirit we know that the Father and the Son remain in us.” And 1 John 5:7, ” These three are one.”

3. Scripture attributes one and the same activity sometimes to the Father, sometimes to the Son, and sometimes to the Holy Sprit, in order to show that the external works are common to all, that the three persons exist at the same time and work together at the same time. In Rom. 16:25 the Father establishes, in 1 Cor. 1:8 the Son confirms, and in Eph. 3:16 the Holy Spirit strengthens. Likewise, in James 1:17 one is enlightened by the Father, in John1:9 the Word (ho logos) enlightens every man, and in Eph. 3:7-9 the Holy Spirit enlightens all through the ministry. This observation is also by Gregory of Nazianzus.

4. The Arians, in opposition to this position, raised 1 Tim. 6:15-16, “The Father alone has immortality, alone is powerful”; Rom. 16:27, “The Father alone is wise”, Luke 18:19, “No one is good, except God alone”, John 17:3, the Son says to the Father,”.that they may know You the only true God.” Therefore the Son is not true God, because the word “alone” is used exclusively of the Father. But the answer is truly and fundamentally based on these rules. For when the Deity is placed in opposition to idols, or to creatures, then the mention of one person does not exclude the others from being of the same substance (homoousia) with the Godhead. Nor does the mention of two exclude the third. But the exclusive aspect pertains to and is used over against only idols and creatures. Cyril makes this observation.

Moreover, we must consider the certain and firm testimonies of Scripture on which this correct answer relies. For the authority of Cyril does not suffice in itself. Thus when the Godhead is described internally (intra sese), then Christ clearly rejects the exclusive concept, John 8:16, 28-29,; John 16:32b. Therefore it is manifest that the concept of exclusiveness which is alleged in the passages cited applies to the first rule and excludes only idols and creatures (to which it is opposed) and not the other persons of the Godhead. For Christ rejects this exclusive concept. Thus when it is said in John 17:3 that the Father is “the only true God,” the Son is not excluded, for it says in 1 John 5:20, “The Son is the true God,” and in John 16:15, “All things which the Father has are Mine,” and in Matt. 11:27, “No man knows the Father except the Son, and no one knows the Son except the Father.” Nor is the Holy Spirit excluded, because in 1 Cor. 2:11 it says, “The things which are of God no one knows except the Spirit of God.” And just as in Paul the Son is not excluded, so in Matthew the Holy Spirit is not excluded. Thus in Rev. 19:12, “The Son has a name which no one knows except Himself,” it is manifest that neither the Father nor the Holy Spirit are excluded, but only creatures. These last points are made by Augustine, Contra Maximin [MPL 42.743 ff.], and demonstrate the true basis for this fourth observation.

5. The church in its worship sometimes makes specific mention of the three persons, sometimes of two, and sometimes of one; and yet always it directs its prayers to the one true divine essence and at the same time to all the persons. For with respect to us the three persons are at the same time and each individually the one, true, undivided God, so that when the dove descended, one can correctly say that this is the one true God and beyond Him there is no other God, as it says in John 14:9, “He who sees Me, sees My Father also.” And again in v. 10, “I am in the Father, and the Father in Me.” On this basis we can understand how the church directs its prayers sometimes to the Father, sometimes to the Son, and sometimes to the Holy Spirit. For it believes and confesses in its prayers not only that the three persons are the one true God, but that each person is not just a part of that one divine essence but rather is the entire divine essence, that is, the one true God, than whom there is no other God. For he who invokes one person above or beyond the others, as if that person were separate or individual, errs from the true God, as it is said in John 5:23, and John 8:54-55b. This is the point which has been made by our revered father and preceptor Dr. Martin Luther, De Ult. Verb. Davidis, Vol. 8, Jena ed. [Amer. Ed. 15.302-03].

6. The persons are distinguished not only by internal differences, such as that one begets, another is begotten, the third proceeds, but also by external differences which have been noted particularly by reason of revelation and beneficial actions toward the church, as is evident in the definition of each person. For in the external works (“opera ad extra”) the three persons are together and work together, and yet with a certain order and with the properties of each preserved, as Augustine says in “Contra Felicianum,” 10 [MPL 42,1164], Note 1 Cor. 15:57. The fathers often used the statement of Paul in Rom. 11:36, “For of Him and through Him and in Him are all things; to whom be glory and honor.” For because the apostle is speaking of external works, he mentions the one eternal essence, “To Him be honor,” not “to them.” And yet, just as there is one essence without confusion of the persons, so this essence performs the external works in common for the three persons, without confusion, but hints at the difference of the persons – “of Him, in Him, and through Him.” Therefore the external works, as our great Martin Luther sets forth, should be considered in a twofold sense. First, in the absolute sense, and thus without distinction, they are and are described as the works of the three persons in common. Second, in a relative sense, when they are considered as to the order in which the persons act, [we must consider] what the properties of each person are and what each person does in an immediate sense. Thus we must consider the work of creation, redemption, and sanctification in both the absolute and the relative sense.

And in some way on the basis of this we can consider why sometimes only one person is mentioned, or why two, when the entire Trinity is understood. For example, “The Father, the fount of blessing,” as the ancients say, and He is called the only Potentate, etc. likewise, “The Creator Father and the Son breathe the Holy Spirit into the hearts of the believers.” Hence it is said in John 14:23, “I and the Father will come and make our abode with him.” And in 1 John 3:24, “We know from the Spirit that the Father and the Son are in us.”

In summary, just as we believe in the unity of the essence and yet must not permit a confusion of the persons, so we must understand also this rule: the external works are common to the three persons, but in such a way that the differences and properties of the persons are not confused.

All antiquity frequently made use of this observation in arriving at solutions of problems. But in worship this observation is absolutely necessary: for although the worship of the Deity is undivided, just as the external works are, yet the prayer of the church is especially for this reason separated from the prayer and worship of all other gentiles. For the church invokes the three persons without confusion, but takes into consideration the distinction and blessings peculiar to each of the persons.

7. Of the names applied to the Deity some refer to the essence and some to the person. And between these categories there is a great difference, for example, the Father is God, eternal, omnipotent. Likewise the Son is God, eternal, omnipotent. The Holy Spirit is God, eternal, omnipotent. But we do not say there are three Gods, three eternals, three omnipotents, because these designations apply to the essence. And Augustine says, “So great is the power of each substance in the Trinity that what is said elsewhere concerning the individual persons (e.g., God is eternal, omnipotent), this, when referring to the whole, is not said in the plural but in the singular.” Erasmus ridicules Athanasius because he does not wish to speak of three eternals, although he himself goes right on to say that the three persons are coeternal. But from these rules and fundamentals it must be understood how God-pleasing and useful is this care in speaking.

Next we must observe this point, that the same designation can sometimes be applied to the essence and sometimes to the person. In accepting this concept there is no diminishing of the distinction. For example, the Son is not the Father, even if the term “Father” is used with reference to the person of the Son. For example, in Is. 9:6 the Son is called the “Father of the world to come” (Vulgate). The name “Father” is used with reference to the essence. And in the sequence for Trinity Sunday the church calls the Holy Spirit the “Father of the poor.” Thus the Son is not the Holy Spirit when the term “spirit” is used with personal reference to Him. But because God is a spirit in essence, the Father is also spirit and the Son is spirit. Thus, these names refer to the essence: “The Father of mercies,” 2 Cor. 1:3: “the Father of spirits,” Heb. 12:9. So also in the Nicene Creed the terms are used in the personal sense, “God of God, Light of light,” etc. And in the Lord’s Prayer the term “Father” can be taken in the essential sense, because He is the antithesis to the creature and the prayer is directed to the entire Trinity. However, the term can also be taken in the personal sense in consideration of the benefits belonging to each of the persons, in accord with the statements of Paul in Rom. 8:15 and Gal. 4:6, “He sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts crying Abba, Father.” We worship in spirit, John 4:23-24, and we call the first person the Father, because of the Son. And this conforms more closely to the apostolic form of the words.

Perhaps many more examples can be piled up which have been discussed among the scholastics, but I wanted to select those which are most notable and which will commend themselves very well to this usage.

But do not get the notion that these observations are foolish subtleties. But because God wills to be known, invoked, and proclaimed as He has revealed Himself, therefore we must make every effort to believe in a godly way concerning these great mysteries and speak reverently and soberly about them. And in this matter, we must imitate the diligence of the ancients by whom the truth of this article was fought for and defended in the face of heretics. For as Jerome says, “Heresy arises from the improper use of words.”

We can achieve this goal more easily if we keep these rules of the ancients before our eyes and have them in view when we speak about this article in a pious, reverent, and proper way.

As I now—at the end of our conference—present a short summary of Luther’s theology of the cross, I would like to make clear from the start that by no means is this a definitive rendering of the theme before us; it is not even something fundamentally new. Clearly our theme has a certain relevance insofar as the old opinion advocated by O. Ritschl in his Dogmengeschichte des Protestantismus has been taken up again by Gyllenkrok and Bizer, and indeed also Barth thinks that the young Luther must be seen in this way. This opinion holds that the theology of the cross is the quintessence of the prereformation views of Luther and points back to the humility-piety [Humilitas- Frömmigkeit] of mysticism. At the same time W. von Loewenich’s comprehensive and excellent book has refuted this understanding of early Luther scholarship as far as it deals with the theology of the cross in Luther. It has shown that Luther’s theology of the cross is an entirely new understanding of the theme acquired from mysticism. In connection to this I would like to show that in this theological catch-word lies a theological epistemology with which Luther surmounts the old scholastic method and, to a certain extent, the Augustinian Neoplatonic method in glowing formulae at the Heidelberg Disputation. Along with the development of this new theological epistemology Luther also employs it as the basis for interpreting the Psalms, a work which he completes through Psalm 22. Then he must go to Worms. But precisely the 22nd Psalm becomes for him the highpoint of an entirely unmystical understanding of the theology of the cross. The suffering of Christ that he finds prophesied here symbolizes for him the defection of the false church and its attempt to turn the kingdom of Christ into a kingdom of this world. Thus this Psalm is also an outstanding document for Luther’s original, radical thought of the separation of the two kingdoms in a negative and positive sense. The cross demonstrates hard and inflexible opposition against the misuse of God’s name and honor for the purposes of human wisdom and the pan-Christian empire. Thus the basic understanding of Paul in the fight against Gnosticism shows through more clearly than mysticism. Additionally I will treat a third work from the context of the theology of the cross, which chronologically lies somewhat earlier, but practically is first understood out of this theological root. This third work has to do with the pastoral [seelsorgerlichen] character of this theology and will develop into a new concept of reality which resigns itself to the cross in faith. For this early version of the theology of the cross points in an entirely different direction than, for example, Theodosius Harnack argues in his great interpretation of Luther’s theology: it points not in the dogmatic direction of the doctrine of the atonement, but in the practical direction of a new relationship to reality. It is new insofar as it contains in itself a fundamental change from the medieval conception and holds the first thoughts that the theologian of the cross—in contrast to the understanding of monasticism, that exercised cross-piety [Kreuzesfrömmigkeit] by cursing and overcoming the world—withdraws from the cloister, abolishes its fundamental principle of piety and meets God in the reality of an entirely unpredictable, historical life filled by infinite and to a great extent unfathomable vicissitudes. This third work, in which I would like to exemplify the theologian of the cross’s understanding of life, is the seven penitential psalms which Luther published in German translation in 1517. In linguistic respects they belong to the most beautiful writing of his that we possess. These could also be named the Vademecum (Guidebook) of evangelical pastoral care and comfort.

I.

The Heidelberg Disputation, one of the customary theological assemblies of the chapter of the order of Augustinian Hermits, took place on 26 April 1518. For this disputation Luther drew up 28 theses which deal with three theological questions: with “works,” in particular the “opera iustorum;” with the question of the “liberum arbitrium post peccatum;” and third with the distinction of the “theologus gloriae” and “theologus crucis.” First, Luther does not here write about the “theologia gloriae” and “theologia crucis.” Not theology as such, but the man who pursues it, the theologian, is in the foreground. This is indicative of a contrast with the medieval starting point of theological epistemology, for this starting point ignores man’s situation. Therefore the fact that a fallen, sinful man would acquire the knowledge of God is disregarded at first: it comes secondarily and only incidentally gets a hearing.

In the superscription Luther calls these theses: “theologica paradoxa” (theological paradoxes). He cites Paul (“if Paul had not preceded in this”) and Augustine, his “most faithful interpreter,” as sources. Luther believes that the Church Father who gave his name to the order is the middleman between Paul and himself. He presents his theses “an bene an male elicita sint” (“so that it might become clear, whether rightly or wrongly from the godly Paul . . . just as from Saint Augustine . . . they are inferred.”) We know some of the glorious manner in which the young Luther disputed and brought his ideas to the younger members of the order for approval from the letter of Martin Bucer, the subsequent Strasbourg reformer, to Beatus Rhenanus: “As greatly as our champions strained themselves to throw Luther out of the saddle, they were unable to extract a hair’s breadth from him. Marvelous his elegance in responding; incomparable his patience in listening; etc.” The theses have an appendix of twelve theses on philosophy, which defend Plato against Aristotle and designate Anaxagoras as the “optimus philosophorum” (best of philosophers) because he understands the infinite as “forma.” It is apparent that with the attack on the “theologia gloriae” Aristotelianism as the presupposition of theological epistemology is also attacked. If one considers that the introduction of the Aristotelian principle of thought (analogia entis–”analogy of being”) is characteristic of the High Middle Ages from the time of Alexander of Hales and serves as the foundation of the Catholic doctrine of revelation up to today, then one sees how sweeping was the blow which Luther here dealt under the name of the “theologia crucis” and his paradoxa.

The formulations are elegant and at the same time so significant that they lose their striking trenchancy when one translates them into German. I will therefore present the two most important theses, 19 and 20, in Latin and comment on them from the Latin text. They read: Non ille digne theologus dicitur, qui ‘invisibilia’ Dei ‘per ea, quae facta sunt, intellecta conspicit,’ Sed qui visibilia et posteriora Dei per passiones et crucem conspecta intelligit (“He is not rightly called a theologian, who God’s ‘invisible essence perceives and understands through his works,’ but he who comprehends that which is visible of God’s essence and is facing toward the world, as portrayed in suffering and the cross.”)

Luther, in dialectical manner, highlights the contrast between “intelligere” and “conspicere” (“understand” and “perceive”). He has in mind an opposing method—the scholastic method as it is gleaned from Peter Lombard’s textbook of scholasticism, the Sentences—which ascends to the invisible world of God “per ea, quae factasunt” (“through those things, which have been made”). The formulation is apparently derived—this is the curious part of it—from Paul: “Invisibilia enim ipsius, a creatura mundi, per ea quae facta sunt, intellecta conspiciuntur” (“For the invisible things of God are observed from the creation of the world, understood through those things which have been made.”) (Romans 1:20) Lombard explains Paul: “Per creaturam mundi intelligitur homo, propter excellentiam qua excellit inter alias creaturas; vel propter convenientiam quam habet cum omni creatura” (“Man perceives him (the Creator) in the creation of the world on account of his superiority, by which he excels the other creatures, and on account of his conformity with every creature.”). Human perception is in a position to transcend creation—that is, the creatura mundi. Human perception has an “excellentia” denied other creatures. It “rises above them,” is ecstatic, and is therefore able to grasp the invisible. Other creatures are not able to do this. However, at the same time man himself is a creature; he has a certain “convenientia” (“conformity”) with every creature. He is himself a creature. According to the scholastic understanding man as intelligible essence is the point within creation where creation reaches over itself, where it no longer comes to view in sensible understanding, that is, in a scattered and diffused manner from thing to thing and from impression to impression, but in a coherent manner resting on the “intelligere,” the human “excellentia.” This perception of the invisible world, in which the visible world has its unity, is an intelligible perception. That is the basis of the scholastic worldview and its doctrine of man in the midst of the created world. Man—alone capable of intelligible perception— is the center of creation. Here creation has its eyes, through which it is able to view the invisible essence of God. However, this intelligible perception does not leap over created matter—ea quae facta sunt—but ascends from it. In this way Romans 1:20 is interpreted and this interpretation remained unchanged despite every transformation in Late Scholasticism. In fact, this is the single thing to which knowledge attaches in order to ascend from it into the invisible world in the thought of Aristotelian epistemology, ever more elaborated from its unprovable premise. There is a certain idealistic strain within the scholastic knowledge of God, which we here encounter, and the concept of the intelligible perception, encountered later from Spinoza to Schelling, is anchored here. Luther speaks to this method of allowing theological knowledge to begin “per ea, quae facta sunt.” He says: “Non ille digne theologus dicitur.” Whoever begins in this way does not deserve the name “theologian.” Luther inverts the predicate and the participle. The predicate for the Scholastics becomes the participle for Luther and vice versa. He also speaks of a perception of God, and appends understanding, intelligere, to this perception. Yet in this he does not begin with the visible things that have been created. With this knowledge of God he does not begin with visible things, but with God. God’s hidden “visibilia et posteriora” are the opposite of the “perception.” They give us the assignment of intelligere. Accordingly the content of such a revelation of God is seeing God as in the midst of us, as the hidden God, who is nevertheless visible and “a posteriori,” that is, God is seen first of all in his economy—not in things, but in his humanity.

In the commentaries on the theses, which are perhaps synopses of Luther’s part of the discussion, it says: “Quia homines cognitione Dei ex operibus abusi sunt, voluit rursus Deus ex passionibus cognosci et reprobare illam sapientiam invisibilium per sapientiam visibilium” (“Since men abuse the knowledge on the basis of his works, God willed, on the other hand, that he be known from suffering, and therefore willed to repudiate such wisdom of the invisible through a wisdom of the visible.”)

Did Luther wish to say with this that the work-righteous also seek God in his “opera,” or perhaps did he wish to say that idolatry is the expression of the error which seeks God in his “opera?” It almost seems so. For “ut sic qui Deum non coluerunt manifestum ex operibus colerent absconditum inpassionibus” (“so that those who did not honor God as he is revealed in his works should honor him as the one who is hidden in suffering.”) The incarnation is therefore identical with the “deus absconditus.” The theology of the cross and the principle of the knowledge of God alone in Christ must now coincide. Although it is said today that it has always been customary in Dogmatics to distinguish between a natural revelation and a saving revelation, nevertheless here it becomes clear that the Reformation begins theologically with the unilateral knowledge of God in Christ. As in Barmen for the first thesis John 14:9 “Whoever sees me, sees the Father” is cited as the foundation and John 10 “I am the door” is cited as evidence. The revealed God is the hidden God: “Vere absconditus tu es Deus” (Isaiah 45:15). “Ergo in Christo crucifixo est vera Theologia et cognitio Dei” (“Therefore in Christ crucified is the true theology and knowledge of God”). “At Deum non inveniri nisi in passionibus et cruce” (“God however can only be found in cross and suffering”).

If then the theology of glory had as its goal a seeing—seeing God through intelligible perception—then the theology of the cross has as its goal an “intelligere,” a grasping and understanding. But what should be grasped? This further point is observed here. I said above that Luther makes the object of his theses the theologian of the cross, the “man.” He actually asks what kind of man stands behind the theology of glory and what kind of man stands behind the theology of the cross. We also saw that there was a certain conception of man that was essential for the epistemology of Scholasticism: Man between God and animal, rising above the domain of the creatures on account of his spiritual capability—his “intelligere.” Man as spiritual being is related to God. Luther formulates his theses in such a way that man is first revealed in view of this “Deus absconditus et crucifixus.” What man is first emerges here. “Qui dum ignorat Christum ignorat Deum absconditum in passionibus” (“Indeed, whoever does not know Christ, he also does not know the God hidden in suffering”). For this reason man has an erroneous feeling of worth. He tends to prefer work to suffering. These are the people whom Paul names “inimici crucis Christi” (“Enemies of the cross of Christ”) (Phil. 3:18). Here then we touch on the sentence, so rich in content: “per crucem destruuntur opera et crucifigitur Adam, qui per opera potius aedificatur” (“Through the cross works are destroyed and Adam is crucified, who prefers to be built up through works.”)

There are not many sentences as instructive for the theology of the young Luther as this one. Here one sees how the two themes of his theology—Law and Gospel the one, the theology of the cross and the theology of glory the other—are interconnected. One hangs from the other. Of course Luther also says that reason is blind; of course he also opposed the natural knowledge of God because of original sin, objected—and this Th. Harnack particularly has emphasized and Lutherans to the present day stress so passionately—to the knowledge of God in “Gloria et majestate” if it is not bound with the knowledge in “humilitate et ignominia crucis!” But here Luther goes further. Here he defines Adam as the one who through “works is built up.” Adam lives by doing works with which he can be justified before himself. Good works are the hiding place into which Adam crawls when God calls. We could say pointedly: The flight from God’s word of grace to the performance [of works], the conversion of the theological situation into an ethical one is a deed congenial to Adam, therefore also to us natural men. Luther sees in this “practical” act the root of the intrusion of natural theology. “Adam per opera potius aedificatur” (“Adam prefers to be built up through works.”) One could walk the length of theology and its history with this sentence as a divining rod: it would show us where living water flows. For this reason Luther can say in his commentary on the Psalms: “CRUX sola est nostra theologia.” Since man has lost his value judgment, he judges falsely. He judges suffering and pain to be something bad, something evil. He seeks good where it is not. Therefore he lives perversely. He lives falsely. “Dicit malum bonum et bonum malum, Theologus crucis dicit id quod res est” (“The theologian of glory calls evil good and good evil; the theologian of the cross calls the things by its proper name.”) (Thesis 21). Here the concept of reality comes to light.

II.

It would certainly not be saying too much if one asserted that he who wants to understand Luther’s theology of the cross rightly must read the Operationes in Psalmos. This commentary on the Psalms is the genuine interpretation of Luther’s understanding of this theological principle. The Psalms and the theology of the cross—they are one and the same. Here it was lived, confessed, and expounded. Here it was made known in Scripture. If one wanted to decode the Psalms, if one wanted to bring the prayers of those who had spoken here to sound anew, if one wanted to enter the circle of this people of God, then he would have to begin from the theology of the cross; better yet, he would have to begin from the cross of Jesus Christ. In this suffering all were justified—in view of their persecutors and mockers—all who had hoped in God alone. Only in him. Luther contrasts the active and passive life of the pious. The way goes from doing to suffering, and first in suffering—so he thinks—is it shown whether I trust in God alone. “Activa sane vita, in qua multi satis temere confidunt, quam intelligunt quoque per merita, non producit nec operatur spem, sed praesumtionem, non secus ac scientia inflat.” ( “An active life, on which many place their trust without basis and which they look at only according to things merited, truly brings and works no hope, but presumption; it puffs up no less than knowledge.”)

There again is the “Adam qui operibus aedificatur.” That is the “positive Christianity,” which one can see and to which one can adhere in himself as in others. Accordingly the “vita passiva”— suffering—must be included. Only there is faith preserved. “Addenda est vita passiva, quae mortificet et destruat totam vitam activam, ut nihil remaneat meritorum, in quo superbus glorietur. Quo facto, si homo perseveret, fit in eo spes, idest discit nihil esse, in quo gaudendum, sperandum, gloriandum sit, praeter Deum. Tribulatio enim, dum a nobis omnia tollit, solum utique deum relinquit—das heißt: allein auf Dich vertraue ich [that is: I trust alone in You]—,neque enim deum potest tollere, imo deum adducit” (“The passive life is to be added, which kills and demolishes the entire active life, so that no merit is left remaining, of which the presumptuous could boast. Through this—if man endures—hope arises in him, that is, he learns that there is nothing in which he can rejoice, on which he can place his hope, of which he can boast, except God. For tribulation, when it takes everything from us leaves only God behind, and cannot take God from us; on the contrary: it brings God near.”)

Here the definition of “hope” becomes clear. In the Middle Ages the foundation of hope in God was that God would reward in heaven that which is not rewarded here on earth. In a similar way Kant later understood the concept of reward—the certainty that a reality of good corresponds to the good deed, and this reality is God. Luther’s understanding of “spes” is entirely defined by the theology of the cross: To hope where there is nothing more to be hoped, where nothing else remains for me save the living God and his promise, the pure word. “spes purissima in purissimum Deum” ( “entirely pure hope in the entirely pure God.”) Even God’s wrath cooperates for the destruction of my self-trust. In such tribulation, in which the “soul is stretched out with Christ”—the soul’s being crucified with Christ is meant, the “being abandoned by God”—hope is conceivable only as “patientia,” as patience. “Ita ut spem recte quispiam possit patientiam spiritualem seu patientiam in culpis sustinendis appellare” (“So that one can define hope only as spiritual patience or as patience in bearing debts.”)

Luther understands this passivity therefore not as some sort of being-dead or being-empty, but paradoxically as the highest activity. But an activity of hoping is born, which “fit” (arises) in such suffering. This hope is present as the work of the Spirit. It hopes. It hopes, where nothing more is to be hoped. It is related not to any sort of reality, but it is related to God alone. To this, that God is. Hope consists in this: that it hopes. In this hoping the despairing one lives.

“In his vero conscientiae procellis et meritorum ruinis spes ipsa pugnat contra desperationem et fere contra seipsam, immo contra deum, quem sentit sibi iratum” (“Indeed: in these storms of the conscience and the ruins of merits hope itself fights against despair and in a certain sense against itself, yes, against God, whom hope feels is angry with itself.”) Luther can portray this hoping in the decline and collapse of all “merita” as a process of being undressed—fundamentally death is such an occurrence for him. We are placed before ourselves naked and must be tested to see whether we trust solely in God’s mercy, whether we live solely from this. Here is the independence of faith from “sentire”— we feel nothing more of God’s grace. But this process itself is becoming man: he dies and is fabricated anew. He goes under and walks forth reborn. This is very different from what Schleiermacher later understood. Here the new birth is bound up with a death, and to be precise with a death not only of the evil or the old man, but simply the man—the man who thinks that he is able neither to live nor to endure before God without works. So this man is baptized through “life.” Life is a baptism. That means death. “Et tamen si perseveret homo et contra spem in spem speret, probatus invenietur et hac tribulatione meritis exutus spe induetur et coronabitur inconfusibili corona in aeternum” (“And nevertheless: if man persists and against hope hopes in hope, he is tested and founded anew and–-in this tribulation stripped of merit—clothed with hope and crowned with a crown which abides eternally.”)

Passivity—vita passiva—is thus still something other than the “vita contemplativa” that the Middle Ages knew. For Luther this “vita passiva” hangs together with “pati.” Suffering first makes man into another. But the matter lies still deeper. We become ones who hope. While we are given to taste the very depths of despair we experience genuine growth. Works must collapse so that we find an inner foothold on nothing more—hope arises (fit) in view of nothingness. It is really born in us; and the emptiness of life, the nothingness in the collapse of all worth, is the reverse side which we perceive and which we feel in this birth. In the moment of faith’s breakthrough we can know ourselves only as fallen away, doubting, and despairing. There is nothing to be seen in the place where we know of ourselves. It comes, so to speak, from behind; from the other side faith and hope and the ability to love come over us.“Sola vero passiva vita purissima est” (“A passive life alone is truly an entirely pure life.”) True life means genuine life. Life without hypocrisy. Only faith, which we do not appropriate for ourselves, is genuine. This becoming man is a work of God in us. His Spirit leads into hell and out again. Accordingly it then continues: “Quid enim est fides, nisi motus ille cordis, qui credere, Spes motus, qui sperare, Charitas motus, qui diligere vocatur” (“What else then is faith than that movement of the heart, which is called believing; what else is hope than that movement, which is called hoping; what else is love than that movement, which is called loving!”) One sees that for Luther it is a movement in which we are the ones moved and God is the one moving.

From here on he criticizes the scholastic doctrine, which distinguishes between “habitus” (attitude, disposition, being) and act. Luther’s theology knows no ethic built on human acts since it arises from the theology of the cross. The doing always arises from a being [Sein], a being-moved proceeding from faith. The man who himself moves himself thinks that he has himself in his hand. The man moved by God, however, can not be moved by God without being consumed. And that is suffering; that is the hard and barren way.

In this connection, however, we encounter also an entirely new aspect of the Verbum Dei (“Word of God”). One can perhaps understand from this what pure doctrine, “purum verbum,” means for Luther. These powers, namely of faith, of love, and of hope “versantur circa purum verbum interne, quo capitur et non capitanima” (“[These powers] live on account of the pure inner word, through which the soul is captured, but does not itself capture.”) They therefore procure the being in the word for the soul, for the human self- confidence. “rapitur per verbum in solitudinem” (“It [the soul] is torn into isolation through the word.”) Thus one can only have the word, that is, it can only have us, when it becomes everything for us. All or nothing. That is the inevitable either-or connected to the movement with the word. That is the “verbum purum.” “Exuitur tam rebus tam phantasmatibus,” (“It (the soul) is stripped of things and even from imagined things,”) therefore we live neither in reality nor in fantasy when we live in the word.

In this way the word forms the soul. The word leads the soul into nothingness. Here Luther takes a passage from mystical theology. But what comes from this! “Redacta sum in nihilum et nescivi. In tenebras et caliginem ingressa nihil video, fide, spe et charitate sola vivo et infirmor (idest patior), cum enim infirmior, tunc fortior sum” (“I am called back into nothingness and know of nothing. I have stepped into darkness and obscurity and I see nothing. Alone in faith, hope and love I live and fade away in weakness (that is, I suffer); since when I am weak, then I am strong.”)

Luther says that mystical theologians call this “ductus” (“having been led”) the ascent above being and non- being. He says that he does not know whether they were truly in agreement over this; the mystics had made this into “acts,” but in truth it is a matter of “mortis inferni passiones,” of suffering death and hell. And here then stands that very sentence, the conclusion of the entire section on afflicted man: “CRUX sola est nostra Theologia.” Because man is by birth an enemy of God, therefore he can experience the work of God in him only as suffering, as trial, and divestment; not as elevation of life, but as judgment and death. Therefore Luther now protests against “liberum arbitrium,” against free will. We cannot decide for faith—how could we manage that! “Velle enim illud, quod credere, sperare, diligere iam diximus, est motus, raptus, ductus verbi dei et quaedam continua purgatio et renovatio mentis et sensus de die in diem in agnitionem dei” (“This willing, namely, about which we already said that it believes, hopes, and loves, is a movement, an abduction, a being led by the Word of God and to a certain extent a perpetual purification and renewal of the spirit and senses from day to day in the knowledge of God.”)

So Luther can then describe this becoming, becoming one who hopes from one who despairs, as being recreated: “Creamur ad imaginem eius, qui fecit nos. Voluntas vero incarnata seu in opus externum effusa recte potest dici cooperari et activitatem habere. . . . Quare sicut gladius ad sui motum nihil cooperatur, ita nec voluntas ad suum velle, qui est divini verbi motus, mera passio voluntatis, quae tum cooperatur ad opus manuum orando, ambulando, laborando” (“We are created in the image of the one who has made us (Col. 3:10). The will, which has taken form in life, which extends itself into external work, can be designated in the deed as cooperating and as fully active. . . as therefore the sword contributes nothing to its movement, so the will contributes nothing to its willing. Rather, it is moved by the Word of God; it is purely suffering for the will, which then cooperates in the work of the hands—in prayer, in going, in working.”)

There would still be much to say in this regard, but one thing ought to have become clear: The theology of the cross is neither an exclusively theoretical expression nor a mere antithesis to the theology of glory, but it is to be inscribed in our life. From this is to be understood what it means to be a believer, one who hopes, one who loves—indeed, what it means to be a Christian. Yet strictly speaking one can never be a Christian; one can only become one. Being a Christian is hidden in God. One cannot lift it into consciousness without destroying it. In our consciousness we have the reverse side, the not-being. And nevertheless Luther says: “Oportet non modo credere, sperare, diligere, sed etiam scire et certum esse, se credere, sperare, diligere. Illud in abscondito tempestatis, hoc post tempestatem agitur” (“It is not only necessary to believe, to hope, and to love, but also to know and to be certain that one believes, hopes, and loves. The former happens during the storm in a hidden way, the latter after the storm.”)

III.

What this theological starting point means practically can be assessed from an analysis of Luther’s commentary on the seven penitential Psalms. Such a theological analysis, in my opinion, has not yet been put forth. For the most part the fine points are unnoticed and the immense change in the view of Christian existence that lies in this commentary, the first published in German, is not observed.

I begin with Psalm 32: 1053: “I will give you understanding and will show you the way in which you should walk.”

In the comments on this passage it reads: “This is where I want you to be. You ask that I deliver you. Do not let it be wearisome for you. Do not teach me and do not teach yourself. Surrender yourself to me; I am enough of a master for you. I will lead you to walk on the way that pleases me. You think that it is disastrous when things do not go as you think they should—that thinking is harmful to you and hinders me. Things must happen not according to your understanding, but above your understanding. Submerge yourself in foolishness and I will give you my understanding . . . not knowing where you are going is truly knowing where you are going. My understanding makes you entirely ignorant. Thus Abraham went out from his fatherland and did not know where he was going. He yielded himself to my knowledge and let his knowledge go, and by the right way he came to the right end. Behold, that is the way of the cross, which you cannot find, but I must lead you like a blind man.”

The way of the cross is therefore a clear, unmistakable reality in our life. It lies, so to speak, before us. Nothing exceptional happens when we traverse it, or to be more precise, when we are led on it. The true life—that is the way of the cross. Not the abstract, self-made existence, spent in an established isolation from the world, formed if possible by self-torment and self-chastisement. The call of God extends to a defined place—there it is audible, only there. And if I avoid the real life in its heights and depths, its afflictions and comforts, then I do not hear the call of God. For then I stand in the place that I have chosen for myself. If Abraham had remained in Ur, then what would God’s call have meant for him? Today we often speak of the secularized world and think that secularization is the reason men have turned away from the Church. One could look at it the other way around. One could ask if a fixed, preconceived, impressed meaning of “being pious” and “being Christian” is not the reason that the church has turned away from men. God’s call to men is not issued where and how the Church, by itself, dictates. This is the precise location of the Reformation’s break with the medieval church— for the way of the cross, on which God leads us, is not life in the Church, but the way of the people of God in the world.

This way is incomprehensible. It is closed to our understanding. One must and ought to concede that we do not understand God in it. If we understood him it would not be his way but our way. So these two things can always be found together: God, the real God, who is the Lord of my entire life, and the reality of this life itself in all its deep obscurity. The deepest and most difficult mystery is in us, in man.

Another passage that speaks to this is a comment on Psalm 32:2: “And there is not any deceit in his spirit.” “That is, his own heart does not betray him so that he appears outwardly pious and considers himself to be nothing but pious and one who loves God, while nevertheless inwardly this opinion is false. . . . This evil, false, deceptive lie leads astray, above all, the great, hypocritical, and spiritual people, who stand fearless on account of their pious life and their many good works and do not discern their spiritual, inner attitude.”

This means that such men do not suffer from themselves. Their works do not live by them, their works are not signs and expression of their being, but they live by their works. “Also they do not want to take to heart that this deceptive, harmful lie spares no one, but is the basic spirit of all and is driven out alone by God’s grace.”

This evil, which is in us and with us, lies beyond all our freedom. It is the authentic suffering of man—he must do what he does not want. The whole doctrine of his “freedom” is an empty dream. Therefore the history of his life, as well as the history of peoples, is determined by this unpredictable factor which is located in man, in his suffering and foolishness. “[It is] not a lie which man tells and knowingly devises against himself or against another, but which he suffers and which is innate within him. This can be covered and adorned with a good life.”

But: “Yet underneath lies the evil filth which the doctors call amorem sui, amorem dei concupiscentie, (“self-love, impure love that seeks to possess God for personal enjoyment,”) so that man is pious out of fear of hell or hope of heaven and not because of God. However, this is difficult to recognize and even more difficult to free oneself of.”

The question is, how are we “freed” from this? For this reason man ought not to free himself from the suffering that God has ordained for us in the unpredictable aspects of this life. Therefore marriage, therefore work; therefore out with a prepared form of Christian existence!

Therefore (one could perhaps say) always oriented toward life, which itself is the result of our errors and suffering.
Again, on verse 10: “Therefore not you, not a man, not a creature, but I, I myself will lead you on the way you should walk. Not the work which you choose, not the suffering which you devise, but that which comes against your choice, thought, and desires: there follow, there I call, there be a student, there it is the time, there your Master has come.”

Here it becomes apparent that we walk in this incomprehensible way solely with true confidence and faith—otherwise, if we go our own way, what need do we have of God! “Have you not read, that the eyes of God are upon the righteous . . . that is, briefly, nothing other than a genuine, simple faith and a firm trust.”

But even here the inner struggle of life does not cease. In this way of life we are, in the eyes of God, hopeful and despondent at the same time. “For God is so astounding in dealing with his children, that he blesses them with contradictory and discordant things. For hope and despair are opposites. Yet they must hope in despair, for fear is nothing other than the beginning of despair and hope is the beginning of recovery. And these two things, opposites by nature, must be in us, for two men, opposites by nature, are in us: the old and the new. The old man must fear and despair and drown; the new man must hope, withstand, and be raised up. And these are both present in one man, indeed in one work at the same time. Just as a sculptor, even as he takes and hews away the wood that does not belong to the image, still improves the form of the image, so also in the fear that hews down the old Adam hope arises which forms the new man.”

This genuine hope is distinguished from false hope by the fact that it does not dictate to God “the purpose, manner, time, and measure” in which he should help. Those who do that “do not tarry and wait upon God. God should wait on them, be ready at once, and not help in a way different than they have designed. Those who wait on the Lord, however, seek grace, but they leave it to God’s good will when, how, where and through what he will help. They do not doubt this help. But they also do not give it a name; they let God christen and name it, . . . But whoever names the help does not receive it.”

Prepared for the Beinroder Konvent in Herbst 1959. Translated by Aaron Moldenhauer, Reformation 2004.

.pdf (with footnotes)

Via Hermann Sasse, “The Theology of the Cross: Theologia Crucis,” in We Confess Jesus Christ, Concordia Publishing House, pp. 47-48, 50, 52.

Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men; and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death” (Phil. ii. 5-8).

Paul’s meaning is this: Christ, when He was full of the form of God and abounded in all good things, so that He had no need of works or sufferings to be just and saved–for all these things He had from the very beginning–yet was not puffed up with these things, and did not raise Himself above us and arrogate to Himself power over us, though He might lawfully have done so, but, on the contrary, so acted in labouring, working, suffering, and dying, as to be like the rest of men, and no otherwise than a man in fashion and in conduct, as if He were in want of all things and had nothing of the form of God; and yet all this He did for our sakes, that He might serve us, and that all the works He should do under that form of a servant might become ours.

Thus a Christian, like Christ his Head, being full and in abundance through his faith, ought to be content with this form of God, obtained by faith; except that, as I have said, he ought to increase this faith till it be perfected. For this faith is his life, justification, and salvation, preserving his person itself and making it pleasing to God, and bestowing on him all that Christ has, as I have said above, and as Paul affirms: “The life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God” (Gal. ii. 20). Though he is thus free from all works, yet he ought to empty himself of this liberty, take on him the form of a servant, be made in the likeness of men, be found in fashion as a man, serve, help, and in every way act towards his neighbour as he sees that God through Christ has acted and is acting towards him. All this he should do freely, and with regard to nothing but the good pleasure of God, and he should reason thus:

Lo! my God, without merit on my part, of His pure and free mercy, has given to me, an unworthy, condemned, and contemptible creature all the riches of justification and salvation in Christ, so that I no longer am in want of anything, except of faith to believe that this is so. For such a Father, then, who has overwhelmed me with these inestimable riches of His, why should I not freely, cheerfully, and with my whole heart, and from voluntary zeal, do all that I know will be pleasing to Him and acceptable in His sight? I will therefore give myself as a sort of Christ, to my neighbour, as Christ has given Himself to me; and will do nothing in this life except what I see will be needful, advantageous, and wholesome for my neighbour, since by faith I abound in all good things in Christ.

Thus from faith flow forth love and joy in the Lord, and from love a cheerful, willing, free spirit, disposed to serve our neighbour voluntarily, without taking any account of gratitude or ingratitude, praise or blame, gain or loss. Its object is not to lay men under obligations, nor does it distinguish between friends and enemies, or look to gratitude or ingratitude, but most freely and willingly spends itself and its goods, whether it loses them through ingratitude, or gains goodwill. For thus did its Father, distributing all things to all men abundantly and freely, making His sun to rise upon the just and the unjust. Thus, too, the child does and endures nothing except from the free joy with which it delights through Christ in God, the Giver of such great gifts.

Pietism has been, and continues to be, one of, if not the most, influential movement within Lutheranism but also in the traditionally Reformed churches and even within Roman Catholic history, e.g. in the form of Jansenism. One historian has asserted that, “…the dominant influence among Lutherans in North America was pietistic.” Like similar movements it has often caused controversy: it has brought comfort to some and consternation to others.

Our examination of the movement will be focused on the life, theology and practice of Philipp Jakob Spener, the so-called “Father of Pietism.”

ROOTS
1 Formative Influences
a Strasbourg

Philip Jakob Spener was from Strasbourg. That city represents a number of “roots” for the life and thought of Spener. It was the place, for instance, were Martin Bucer had worked and Johann Arndt had studied. But first of all, it was here that he knew Dannhauer, his teacher, who, we are told, “acquainted Spener with Luther’s writings.” Johann Konrad Dannhauer was a theologian of Lutheran orthodoxy who had himself studied at Strasbourg (1623-25) as well as other places. At the University of Jena, for instance, he came to know John Gerhard. By 1633 he was professor of theology at the University of Strasbourg where he became the most influential theological of his century.

The link between Spener and Dannhauer interests us because, as we will discuss later, their relationship represents that between Pietism and Orthodoxy. Spener was very fond of his teacher who, according to Spener himself, was the professor of theology who influenced him most. In Pia Desideria, for instance, he says: “I hardly know anything better to recommend than the Christeis of my distinguished teacher, the sainted Dr. John Conrad Dannhauer.”

The university at Strasbourg was considered a “citadel of Lutheranism” after its founding in 1621. But before that the theology of the Reformed tradition was dominant and had an abiding influence. The predecessor school was the place of Martin Bucer (1491-1551), Wolfgang Capito (1478-1541), Caspar Hedio (1494-1552), and Jakob Sturm (1489-1553). These four were the authors of the oldest Reformed symbol in German, the Confessio Tetrapolitana, or “Confession of the Four States,” which was presented at the Diet of Augsburg in 1530. Bucer and Capito had represented the Reformed position at the Wittenberg Concord in 1536. Under the influence of Sturm, the school at Strasbourg was established “in a spirit of supra-confessional Christian humanism.” Though Sturm, and later other Reformed theologians (e.g. Peter Martyr Vermingli), were expelled from Strasbourg, the new Lutheran influences were “influenced by Bucer and Calvinism.”

b Bucer et al

The question of influence of Martin Bucer of Strasbourg (d. 1551) upon Spener is an open one. Bucer died in 1551, one century before Spener matriculated in the university there. Spener’s view of the pastoral office resembles that of Bucer. Indeed, Bucer’s emphasis upon the mutuality of the Christian life, and practice of “mutual edification” in group meetings at Strasbourg in the 1540′s, may in some sense have furnished a model to Spener. August Lang presents the thesis that through Puritanism and especially though William Perkins, there is a connection from Bucer to Spener. In 1546 Bucer began the “christliche Gemeinschaften” which would be the model for the later conventicles. In Spener’s time, Bucer’s original memorial to the town council of Strasbourg regarding this venture was reprinted under the title: “Defense of the so-called Collegiorum pietatis” in 1691 and 1692.

c Puritanism

Puritanism arose roughly one century before the birth of Pietism–in the late 16th and early 17th centuries. It was also contemporary with Jansenism in France. Such movements of revival of moral and religious fervor produced great leaders: John Bunyan, the English Puritan, Nicholas Zinzendorf, the leader of the Moravians, John Wesley of the Methodists, Gilbert Tennent for Presbyterians in America and Blaise Pascal of the Jansenists. There appears to have been some connection in these movements, a common emphasis on morality or sanctification. In the post-Reformation era, this emphasis which had been there already in Calvin, seems to have followed a trail of Reformed sites. From the England of returned Marian exiles, the fathers of Puritanism, to Holland, then to France and Switzerland, and finally to Germany and Scandinavia, the thread runs. Spener had personal and other contacts with representatives of the Swiss, French, and Dutch movements.

Ever since his youth Spener had read translations of the devotional writings of the English Puritans: First was Lewis Bayly’s Practice of Piety (1610) and Emmanuel Sonthomb’s Golden Jewel. Later he was introduced to other Puritan works by his brother-in-law and mentor, Joachim Stoll, who, in 1647, became court preacher in Rappoltsweiler, Spener’s birthplace. Stoll had drawn attention to Daniel Dycke’s Nosce te ipsum (Know Yourself) and True Repentance. It may have been Stoll’s intention to balance the otherworldliness of Bayly and Sonthomb with a more churchly emphasis in Dycke and Johann Arndt.

Later in his ministry in Frankfurt, in the collegia, which he started in 1670, passages were read from Bayly’s Practice of Piety. At one time Spener expressed a preference of Lewis Bayly over Johann Gerhard, an opinion which brought Stoll’s disapproval.

The works by Bayly and Sonthomb were particularly popular in Strasbourg at this time; these two devotional books, “despite the strong anti-Calvinistic sentiment in Lutheran Orthodoxy, had permeated Lutheranism in the first half of the century and found their way into Strassburg piety.” All of these devotional books by English Puritans were critical of conventional Christianity.

d Geneva

After he completed his theological studies in the summer of 1659, Spener spent two years in travel. He spent varying lengths of time in Basel, Bern, Lausanne, and Geneva in Switzerland, Lyons and Montebéliard in France, and Freiburg and Tübingen in Germany.

At Geneva Spener “became acquainted with the polity and inner life of the Reformed Church. He always considered himself to be a Lutheran. But he was less interested in doctrine than in practical piety.” In Geneva, “the Lutheran theology he had willingly imbibed at Strasbourg was fertilized by Calvinism… Though he remained a zealous Lutheran [sic. ?], Spener too was warm in his admiration for Geneva.”

Here Spener often went to hear Jean de Labadie (1610-1674), zealous French Reformed preacher. The fact that Spener had one of Labadie’s French tracts published in a German translation about six years later suggests that his had been a lasting impression. Labadie attempted to found a new church of the regenerate, on the primitive model. It is likely that he may have derived form him some suggestions toward his later concept of the ecclesiola or little church of true saints.

e Reformed “Leaven”

The “progression” of the these revival movements (or perhaps it was basically one movement) had another common factor. It was a movement within the Reformed churches– England, Netherlands, France and Switzerland, before it reached German Lutheranism. There were, of course, differences from place to place. The protest against episcopacy and liturgy which was a prominent feature of English dissent, for instance, had no meaning to the Reformed churches on the continent. On the other hand, for “Lutheran” Pietists there was a concern about the “formalism” of liturgy. Unlike the Puritans and the revival movement in the Netherlands the Pietists of Germany did not seek ecclesiastical reforms.

The Pietists of Lutheranism were clearly influenced by Reformed theology and piety. The final result of this Reformed leaven “was an emotionalism which deprecated the power of the means of grace as such and stressed spiritual exercises as being more important.”

f Johann Arndt (1555-1621) & Mysticism

German Lutherans were made receptive to these influences from abroad by two elements which they inherited form the age of Orthodoxy. On the one hand, there had been a revival of mysticism in the Lutheran church during the seventeenth century. The most influential Lutheran writer of mystical literature was Johann Arndt, whose book of sermons on the gospels, the Postilla, was the occasion for Spener’s major writing, the Pia Desideria of 1675.

That Johann Arndt had a strong influence is almost too obvious for comment. Perhaps our first question, however, is: What do we make of Arndt? If, as some might assert, his influence on Spener and others of such revival movements indicates a more internal, subjective and less doctrinal piety, his impact, then, is less than Lutheran. But in his life we find evidences of a very Lutheran consciousness. In 1590, for instance, he left Badeborn (Anhalt) because he would not yield to the Reformed ordinances of the duke. He was a close friend of Johann Gerhard, with whom he had much in common. In what way does a man with such “orthodox credentials” come to be so influential for a movement which is said to have disavowed the chief emphases of Orthodoxy?

Arndt’s Vier Bücher vom wahren Christentum (ET True Christianity), a devotional book (1606-09), was the first German Lutheran devotional books for the common people. Next to Thomas a Kempis’ Imitation of Christ it was the most widely circulated devotional books. Toward the close of his life he explained why he wrote it:

In the first place, [a] I wished to withdraw the minds of students and preachers form an inordinately controversial and polemical theology which has well-nigh assumed the form of an earlier scholastic theology. Secondly, [b] I purposed to conduct Christian believers from lifeless thoughts to such as might bring forth fruit. Thirdly, [c] I wished to guide them onward from mere science and theory to the actual practice of faith and godliness. And fourthly, [d] to show them wherein a truly Christian life that accords with true faith consists, as well as to explain the apostle’s meaning when he says, “I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me,” etc. (Gal.2:20).

It contained an appeal for sanctification and called for repentance. It condemned “mere theory” and the “art of disputation.” Here, in True Christianity, were found such medieval notions as the imitation of Christ and contempt for this world; these emphases helped prepare the way for Pietism. Arndt’s aim was to induce theologians and lay people to turn from controversy to fellowship and charity, and from the confessions of faith [fides quae creditur] to faith itself [fides qua creditur]. He held it essential to add holiness of life to purity of doctrine. Arndt has passages that accord with salient ideas of Pietism.

Offense was taken at the manner in which he quite unhesitatingly accepted medieval and other mystics (e.g., Bernard of Clairvaux); also at his emphasis on sanctification. Some of his critics asserted that he put an emotional type of piety into the place of a Lutheran Christianity based on the Word and on faith.

g “Early” Luther

Spener felt himself nearer to Luther then to contemporary interpreters of Luther. He would honor Luther, but he regrets to say that “if Luther should rise again today he could not recognize as his disciples many of his spiritual descendants” (Theologische Bedenken, III, 84 [cf. Pia Desideria, 52]).

Spener’s citation of Luther is noticeably weighted to the early Luther, pre-1525, or in the period of the more pronounced anti-Roman polemic or the time when Luther was still struggling with his own Roman piety. “The pietists found fault with Luther’s boldness and obvious enjoyment of life, with his occasional violence and carelessness in speech, with his biblical criticism and concern about doctrine.” Some pietists held that while Luther and the Reformation had indeed corrected matters of doctrinal error, they had not completed the task with regard to life and worship. We will discuss this later, for instance, under the title of “The Second Reformation.”

2 Circumstances
a Germany

The Germany of the 17th century was dominated by the Thirty Years War. The Peace of Westphalia of 1648 brought a welcome relief and has been assigned by some scholars as the threshold of the Modern Era. The war has been referred to as “the last of the religious wars and the first of the great conflicts of modern times.” It also provided for legal recognition of the Calvinists. This had been secured through the demands of the Elector of Brandenburg. There had been an expansion of the Reformed at the close of the 16th and beginning of the 17th centuries into territories, e.g. Anhalt, Baden, Hessen, Brandenburg, which had previously been Lutheran. Whether the Peace of Westphalia provided for or was an indication of the rising power of the Reformed confessionalist is debatable. But it was at least an indicator of the growth of Reformed strength and influence which would come to dominate German Protestantism by the end of World War II.

b Thirty Years War

The birth of Pietism came in the period of, or at least immediately following, the Thirty Years’ War (1618-1648). It was one of the most devastating wars of European history which inflicted its moral as well as material deterioration particularly on Germany. It has been observed that the main causes of Pietist, “are undoubtedly to be found in the conditions following the Thirty Years’ War, when a generation of people which had become estranged form an orderly church life had to be trained in the faith and in the ordinances of the Church.” It might be asserted that the history of the church has been marked by movements of reaction following periods of conflict which are marked by a turning away from dogma and confessions, as causes of conflict, toward a more subjective and inward piety.

c Church Life

During the seventeenth century there had been repeated complaints about the decay of church life, and these were accompanied by pleas for reform. Nor were the Pietists the only ones calling for reform. Many noted Orthodox leaders had voiced the plea before: John Valentine Andreae (1586-1643), grandson of Jakob, co-author of the Formula of Concord, “criticized the contentiousness of theologians, the interference of princes in the affairs of the church, and the religious illiteracy of the people while he engaged actively in social reform.” Balthasar Meisner (1587-1626), professor in Wittenberg and an unrelenting contender against Calvinism, lectured about the shortcomings of the clergy and civil rulers. Above all, at least in stature among the Orthodox fathers, Johann Gerhard (1582-1637), called the “Archtheologian of Lutheranism,” called for reform. His Sacred Meditations, was translated into all major European languages and attained a circulation next in order to the Bible and Thomas a Kempis’ Imitation of Christ.

Theodore Tappert describes how class distinctions were manifest even in the churches. There was often a distinction of seating in the church. “The upper classes often insisted on having their baptisms, weddings, funerals, and communions in private (whether in the church or at home).” The clergy, especially court chaplains, “became as obsequious toward their rulers as other courtiers.”

Interconfessional polemics was prominent at this time. This was particularly unpleasant for the Pietists, as, noted above, it had been for Arndt.

d Orthodoxy

It has become almost a commonplace to describe Pietism as a reaction to the period of Orthodoxy. Thus one can read about Pietism that it was, “a movement of the late 17th and early 18th centuries against the prevailing orthodoxism.” However, the writer does add: “in spite of the fact that men like Arndt, Herberger, and Nicolai tried to combine full orthodoxy and spiritual life.” There are a few scholars who, on the other hand, challenge that widespread assumption, Bengt Hägglund, for one. Tappert’s description of this reaction is perhaps typical:

…a necessary and wholesome reaction to the stark intellectualism and sterile institutionalism which had characterized so much of church life in the seventeenth century.

Arndt had noted it in his day:

It is a notion too prevalent at this day that men are very good Christians if…they have attained to some kind of intellectual knowledge of Jesus Christ.

Tappert offered a rather optimistic interpretation:

There is a sense in which it may be said that the pietists within the Lutheran church adhered to the theology of Orthodoxism and merely shifted the accent. The pietists themselves claimed to translate orthdoxist doctrines, which had been apprehended intellectually, into living realities. But they showed more interest in some topics of theology, and they passed by others with scant attention or treated them differently. The consequence was that, although the pietists gave the appearance of adhering to orthodoxist theology, they actually developed a new theology even if this was never fully formulated.

- Doctrine

Partly as a consequence of the Thirty Years’ War, partly as a reaction to the polemical stance of many of the Orthodox theologians, but chiefly because of the emphasis on sanctification over justification, the role of doctrine was demoted.

But for many correctness of doctrine was a cold and sterile matter. The long decades of warfare, famine, and pestilence of the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries had produced a yearning for the kind of religion that warmed the heart and set the soul on fire with assurance and certainty. The movement known as pietism met that need. Far more concerned with a faith that could be lived with zeal and certainty than with a doctrinal system, pietism produced in both the Lutheran and Reformed churches an attitude and disposition which minimized the doctrinal differences between the two and stressed instead an underlying unity rooted in personal religious experience.

The emphasis on “pure teaching” seems to some observers to have been almost a unique feature of the Orthodox. It is sometimes associated with the controversial and polemical character of the age. Of course it was there in Luther and the 16th century as well!

3 Aims
a Sanctification

Pietism has focused the church’s attention on sanctification. That is not unique; there is a common thread in the church’s history of such movements, Puritanism and Methodism to name but two. Such movements were in part a reaction to an apparent or real lack of piety in the church. As a corrective to the situation of the time, these movements gave an emphasis to the Christian life, usually to the neglect of doctrine. In fact one might say that for the Pietists the following slogan is appropriate: “Life verses doctrine.” It was a movement which asserted the primacy of feeling in Christian experience.

b Practical Christianity, Living Faith, Fruits of Faith

One way of expressing the aim of sanctification was in terms of “living,” “fruits,” or “practical Christianity.” Martin Schmidt, a leading scholar on Pietism, describes this.

Faith, the chief element in the teachings of the Reformation, was more clearly defined as “living faith”; and the evidence that faith is “living” was sought in the “fruits of faith” (Matt. 7:16ff.; John 7:17; Gal. 5:22; Rom. 6:22), i.e. in sanctification of life, above all in the exercise of love…. Christian perfection, a subject which the Reformation had slighted somewhat, was to be brought back into the center of church life.

c fides qua creditur

The difference between Lutherans and the Reformed, which occupied much of the attention of the scholastic theologians, was generally played down by Spener as a result of his emphasis on subjective faith (fides qua creditur) as over against objective faith (fides quae creditur).

This shift of emphasis effectively places the Law in a position over the Gospel in the sense of giving chief attention to man’s subjective faith over the external faith.

d Second Reformation

Pietism’s “avowed purpose was to bring about a second reformation.” This has been discussed in detail by Carter Lindberg. The first Reformation was seen as incomplete.

[Spener] held that the Lutheran Reformation was left incomplete. “The departure from Babylon took place, indeed, but the temple and the city were not yet built,” and there is needed now a fresh cleansing of abuses ([Theologische Bedenken], III, 179, 180). Furthermore, Luther’s authority is not final. He was a fallible man “far, far beneath the apostles.” We must not follow him blindly; there is much in him that we must sorrowfully deplore (III, 712).

This was also a common view of the Reformed, according to Hermann Sasse. Lutheranism was conceived, especially by Reformed Churches, as a “form” of Evangelical Christianity, a “school” or “branch” of the Reformation church. For example, John George Schmucker, the father of Samuel Simon, says in his Prophetic History:

Though the church was reformed in its ‘doctrine and worship,’ Luther’s Reformation was left unfinished because it did not produce ‘a revival of experimental Christianity.’ The incompleteness of the Reformation made necessary another intervention by Divine Providence. Johann Arndt (1555-1621) was sent by God as ‘the author of the second Reformation.’ For Schmucker, he was also the fulfillment of the prophecy of the angel with ‘the eternal gospel to proclaim’ (Rev. 14:6). In contrast to the earlier Reformers, Arndt succeeded in reestablishing ‘experimental religion and the internal worship of God’ in exciting his followers ‘to the imitation of Christ.’”

FRUITS & CONSEQUENCES

1 Prolegomena & Authority
a Epistemology

Pietism fostered a shift in epistemology, that is, how we “know” things, especially, but not limited to, the area of religion.

Its subjective epistemology served to justify freedom from ideology (civil or religious) and from external cultural restraints and gave primacy to the authority of the individual’s perceptions and intuitions, all of which was in harmony with the developing cultural ethos of America.

This analysis has been supported by Hägglund.

The new way of thinking was expressed in epistemology. According to Spener, experience is the ground of all certainty, both on the natural level and on the level of revelation. As a result the personal experience of the pious is the ground of certainty for theological knowledge. Only the regenerate Christian can be a true theologian and possess real knowledge of revealed truth.

b Word of God

While the Pietists gave great emphasis to Bible reading, nevertheless the Scriptures were viewed differently than had been in the church of the Lutheran Reformation.

i The Word of God was no longer formal principle. It may have been a norm but not the sole, nor indeed, the preeminent norm.

ii It was replaced by conversion, the experience of regeneration, the norm of an inner experience or feeling.

iii There is a tendency to encourage a “private and individual” study, and even interpretation, of the Bible.

iv While the sermon is good, it is certainly insufficient. The sermon, like the Scriptures, is an external authority and thus not as effective.

c Confessions

In Lutheranism, the confessions have a role of authority second only to the Scriptures. But like the Scriptures, they too are an external authority. Furthermore, the Confessions, as fides quae creditur, are seen as marginal in importance, especially as they also confess negative propositions about the declarations of others.

The anxious adherence to the letter of the Lutheran Confessions which had marked Orthodoxism was also relaxed…. Besides calling attention to a few instances in the Confessions of mistaken biblical exegesis, such pietists as Spener raised questions about the Confessions’ treatment of absolution, prayers for the dead, and other topics.

d Authority of Doctrine & Theology

The Pietist view of doctrine may be understood as very modern. Once again, doctrine is an external thing; furthermore, it and the theological endeavor in general are perceived are intellectual activities which had little appeal for the Pietists.

The pietists were never too concerned over theological differences; in their concern for Christian living they tended to gloss over or ignore doctrine, and caused no divisions with anyone because of doctrinal variations. Unlike Lutheranism, both Pietism and the Reformed Church made doctrine a secondary consideration.

The turn towards the subject meant, however, a fateful turn from theology as doctrinal truth claim to theology as an account of faith’s experience and its practical and ethical consequences.

e Consciousness

There have been various theologies based on consciousness; Pietism has been one. It, for instance, had a marked influence on Friedrich Schleiermacher, called the “Father of Modern Theology,” and a Pietist of a “higher order.”

The role assigned to the consciousness brings us up against the fact that it has only a limited capacity, so that when one thing is dominant in it, it cannot absorb others. In Pietism this may be seen grotesquely in Zinzendorf, and partially in Spener, with regard to the sexual libido. The capacity of consciousness does not allow love of the Lord to exit side by side with sexual desire in our emotional potential. Hence for the Savior’s sake the libido has to be excluded from sexual intercourse and new children of God have to be conceived without desire. The starting point in the pious consciousness necessitates a strict control of what is received into the heart because of its limited capacity. Believers must seek to exercise apathia even in marriage.

2 Consequences
a Rationalism & the Aufklärung (Enlightenment), e.g. Halle University

It can be said that Pietism prepared the way for rationalism and the Enlightenment. Bengt Hägglund has observed this.

Thus it was that conservative Pietism inaugurated, in a variety of ways, the modern way of thinking in the field of theology and ecclesiology. In its subjective concept of knowledge and in its interest in morality and the empirical facts of religion, Pietism bore within itself tendencies which came into full bloom in the thought world of the Enlightenment, in the secular area as well as in the theological sphere.

In fact, by its emphasis on the subject (away from the objective), it became the fertile soil “for several modern movements: Neology, rationalism, Enlightenment, romanticism.” This was illustrated at the Pietist University of Halle; as Pietism had cleared the dogmatic spirits of the day out of Halle, so they left the doors open for the even more evil spirits of Rationalism. “Pietism broke the hold of orthodoxy, but in so doing left the intellectual field in Germany and Scandinavia open to the inroads of English deism and French skepticism.”

Robert Handy stated this in a very similar way:

“Pietism broke the grasp of confessional orthodoxy, but it raised up no theological leaders to take the place of the older dogmatic theologians. The critical, rationalist spirit of the eighteenth century…invaded Germany and found the intellectual field largely barren.”

b Prussian Union

Pietism also fostered the Prussian Union. It was among three movements which “allowed” the Union to be effected, Nationalism, Rationalism and Pietism.

Union of the Lutherans and Reformed was in part the outcome of the Aufklrung and Pietism. The one with its rationalism minimized the doctrinal differences between the confessions, and in the other the quality of religious experience and the methods employed for nourishing and giving effect to the Christian life overpassed confessional boundaries.

This was also observed by Hermann Sasse in one of his most forceful critiques of the Reformed influences on Lutheranism.

The unions of 1817 and the following years were possible because Pietism and the Enlightenment had not only undermined the doctrinal basis of the church, but, along with that, had destroyed the understanding for confessional differences.

c Ecumenism

Pietism’s dissolution of Orthodoxy’s confessional consciousness is directly related to its own self-understanding as an international and interconfessional movement. Thus Pietism was a decisive preparation for the modern, ecumenical movement.

It was clear that Christian experience was not limited to Lutherans, and since experience was stressed rather than doctrine, denominational differences tended to be disregarded.

3 Theology
a Church

There were three features of pietistic ecclesiology which are prominent.

i collegia pietatis & ecclesiolae in ecclesia

ii fellowship

iii individualism

Less importance was attached to the church; it was viewed as an mere institution. The organized church was often criticized as “Babylon, as corrupt, and the formation of conventicles (ecclesiolae in ecclesia) had the effect of taking individuals or groups of individuals out of the larger community of Christians.

One of the chief characteristics of pietism as it took institutional form in Germany and Scandinavia was the conventicle, a small group of Christians who met apart from the regular worship of the congregation for Bible study, prayer, and mutual edification. In these groups the externals of liturgical worship as well as the sacramental means of grace were subordinate to the experience of awakening and conversion.

b Baptism & Confirmation

In his Pia Desideria, Spener made a very Lutheran confession of baptism.

Nor do I know how to praise Baptism and its power highly enough. I believe that it is the real “washing of regeneration and renewal in the Holy Spirit” (Tit. 3:5), or as Luther says in the catechism, “it effects forgiveness of sins, delivers from death and the devil, and grants” (not merely promises) “eternal salvation.”

On the other hand, infant baptism had less meaning. Pietists stressed the need for a conversion experience; baptism continued to be observed but was supplanted by the rite of confirmation.

c Confession & Absolution

I assume that Dr. Krispin will be dwelling on this topic. I therefore offer only this summary description and comments on it.

Private confession, which had for the most part become an empty formality [!], was gradually supplanted in may places by general confession, but was more meaningfully replaced by a new emphasis on the cure of individual souls.

There was a move, then, away private to a general, public confession. Even here we can note evidences of Pietist influence. This can be observed in some forms of Confession and Absolution, e.g.:

I now ask you before God, Is this your sincere confession, that you heartily repent of your sins, believe on Jesus Christ, and sincerely and earnestly purpose, by the assistance of God the Holy Ghost, henceforth to amend your sinful life? Then declare so by saying: Yes.”

Perhaps an even more telling form of pietistic practice is found in the following form of absolution [?]; it begins in the declarative statement, no uncommon in Lutheran rites:

Upon this your confession, I, as a called and ordained servant of the Word, announce the grace of God to all of you. On behalf of my Lord Jesus Christ and by his command, I forgive you all your sins, in the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Now notice what is added immediately in the very next sentence:

God forbid that any of you reject his grace and forgiveness by refusing to repent and believe, and your sins therefore remain unforgiven.

The words following seem a weak attempt to recover the full promise and joy of the absolution offered so recently.

My he comfort you with his holy absolution, and strengthen you with his Sacrament, that your joy may be full.

Here the Pietists may have attempted to address a concern even expressed by “more orthodox” Lutherans: “Can the pastor responsibly pronounce the forgiveness of sins in such a blanket manner or in such a public (contra private) setting?” The problem became real when the church lost the practice of private confession and absolution.

d Lord’s Supper

In the same way that Spener had offered a Lutheran confession of baptism (above), so he also spoke of the Sacrament of the Altar.

Nor less gladly do I acknowledge the glorious power in the sacramental, oral, and not merely spiritual eating and drinking of the body and blood of the Lord in the Holy Supper. On this account I heartily reject the position of the Reformed when they deny that we receive such a pledge of our salvation in, with, and under the bread and wine, when they weaken its power, and when they see in it no more than exists outside the holy sacrament in spiritual eating and drinking.

“Occasionally pietists showed reluctance to receive Communion, either because they felt that they were themselves unworthy or because they were unwilling to receive it with unworthy people or at the hands of unworthy ministers.” The reluctance could perhaps explain that in parts of Estonia and Latvia it has been customary to commune only once a year.

e The Office

Pietism sought to transform the minister’s office, “making him a shepherd of souls and a preacher of salvation, not simply an administrator of sacraments and a protector of pure doctrine.” This conforms with the overall aims of Pietism: an emphasis on the internal will detract from, neglect and reshape the theology and practice especially of the holy office and sacraments. For these are external gifts of God.

f Repentance

Repentance occupied a dominant place in the theology and life of the pietists. The emphasis on the inner life encouraged, even demanded, serious and constant self-examination. This “self-analysis…cast them on the iron couch of introspection.”

Constant probing of the inner life often led to morbid introspection and gave great vogue to diaries, autobiographies, and other accounts of spiritual struggles. Weeping, wailing, and groaning were regarded as sure signs of true repentance, and people belabored themselves, even in their hymns, as “rotten carcasses” and “stinking worms.”

This was very indicative of a shift in theology which in turn had practical consequences, i.e. that it placed the believers right back under the law.

Repentance was reduced to remorse, and in time a sort of routine was devised artificially to excite appropriate feelings. This sometimes led to self-deception, hypocrisy, and an affected mouthing of pious clichés, the “language of Canaan.” The consequence, theologically, was that what man does in repentance was placed in the foreground rather than what God has done and does in Christ. This inevitably carried with it a change in the understanding of justification.

All of these changes reflect the shift of accent from institution to individual, from outward act to inner experience.

g Forensic Justification – Regeneration

Pietism expressed many of its concerns in what I describe as an “adverbial” manner: e.g., ” Do you really repent?” This question was especially with reference to confession itself. (See above) “Are you really saved? The same may be observed in much “Evangelical” piety today. Arthur Repp noted that Spener “looked for some means by which he as pastor could deal with the individual to assure himself that his parishioner was truly converted.”

Pietism was not content with criticizing the orthodox institutional church and demanding the introduction of reforms. It also–and this constitutes its real church historical significance–focused chief attention upon a different biblical-theological subject. The reformers and the orthodox theologians had given central place to the Word of God and the doctrine of justification. But Pietism’s central subject was regeneration (conversion, rebirth).

Spener fostered a tradition of mystical spiritualism.

Characteristic of this tradition is the central place given to regeneration (a biological image) instead of justification (a forensic image). The language of “rebirth,” “new man,” “inner man,” “illumination,” “edification,” and “union of Christ with the soul” is common to Spener and to the older mystics.

Thus there was a shift away from forensic, justification talk. This came under the influence of Eastern Christian ascetic tradition and elements of mysticism in the West.

Forensic terminology gave way to organic terms implying growth and development. The popularity of the language of “rebirth,” “new man,” “inner man,” “inner prayer,” “illumination,” “sanctification” or “godliness,” “partaking of the divine nature,” “union with Christ” and “union with God” was illustrative of shifting theological emphases. Most important was the shift from justification to regeneration (conversion, rebirth) as the central theological theme and a parallel shift from faith to love.

This “most important” shift is further explained in the following:

Major emphasis was placed on regeneration, which Spener thought of as the granting of a new life. Justification is the fruit of regeneration. The doctrine of imputation was therefore replaced by the idea that justification and sanctification form a unity. This unity is expressed by the term “regeneration” (or “new birth”), which no longer–as in the older tradition–coincides with the concept of the forgiveness of sins but designates an inner transformation which in turn is the source of the new life that characterizes the Christian man.

h Luther & the Pietists on Regeneration

On an important point which separated Luther from the Pietists, Martin Schmidt, a leading German scholar on Pietism, wrote the following:

They [the Pietists] liked to deal with regenerate man as a fixed quantity and therefore spoke of the fruits of regeneration. The Reformer [Luther] remained engaged in the struggle between the old and the new man. The (Pietist) problem of attainability he [Luther] deferred in favor of the state of affairs which he described strikingly with the word “temptation” [Anfechtung]. This state of affairs taught the “heeding of the word” (Isaiah 28:19) and the consolation of divine grace in the forgiveness of sins. Out of the liberating message that Jesus Christ had done everything for him, the new man came forth. Thus the Christian, who was always becoming, looked never to himself nor to the rank of his being a child of God. ‘Flesh’ and ‘spirit,’ as they are harshly contrasted to one another in the seventh and eighth chapter of Romans, remained for him irreconcilable opposites…. [ellipsis original] The believer did not progress beyond Anfechtung and Luther judged a condition without it to be of gravest danger. That is why a Christian never fixed his eyes upon himself, but upon his Lord and depended upon his Word… [ellipsis mine] The pietists sought to advance again the importance of Luther’s teaching of a living faith. In so doing, however, they shifted the emphasis: the vivacity, which made itself recognizable in good works, was valued more by them than faith itself. Yet Luther understood faith to cling to the divine promise and to depend upon the promise itself, so that the believer was acceptable to God with his entire being… [ellipsis mine] The fruits of faith became more important for the pietists than their source, faith, on which everything was dependent for Luther.

CONCLUSION

While most of confessional Lutheranism has recognized that many of the concerns of the Pietists have been good, and many of the fruits can be appreciated, nevertheless the close examination of its theology and its consequence must bring us to a clear refutation (Titus 1:9; 2 Timothy 3:16) of its errors.

I have overlooked some of its more positive accomplishments, e.g.

[1] its effort to intensify Christian piety and purity of life;

[2] its protest against intellectualism and ethical passivity;

[3] its rejection of the new forms of rationalism and the spiritual coldness of the Enlightenment;

[4] its encouragement of charitable concerns, leading to a great flowering of Christian philanthropy, the founding of schools, orphanages, and hospitals (e.g. Francke’s institutions at Halle);

[5] its impetus to missionary activities.

But by its very aims, in terms of the ethical and moral, the experience and inner life, it was a return to the law (Galatians 1:6f, 4:9), directing the soul not first and primarily to God but to self. By its confusion of justification and sanctification, law and gospel, it threatens the Christian’s understanding and experience of the grace of God and robs him of the comfort of God’s promises. Such an error is damnable, literally, according to St. Paul (Galatians 1:8 & 9). We, however, are not to judge the faith of the Pietists (even though they often have sought to do that of fellow Christians). Rather we turn our attention once again to God’s promises for us and His church. We “are known by God” (Galatians 4:9) and placed into the family of the baptized. Baptism marks us as what we are, and that not of our own doing, our own “birth.” We are fed the body and blood of His Christ, which forgives us and grants us life and salvation. The Word of our lives is His Word. Everything about our “lives” as Christians is His–His life, His doing, His justification, His holiness, His redemption–which He graciously gives to us. (1 Corinthians 1:30).

Bible References

Galatians 2: 20(KJV)
I am crucified with Christ: neverthless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.

Matthew 7: 16
By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles?

John 7: 17
If anyone chooses to do God’s will, he will find out whether my teaching comes from God or whether I speak on my own.

Galatians 5: 22
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,

Romans 6: 22
But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves to God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life.

Revelation 14: 6
Then I saw another angel flying in midair, and he had the eternal gospel to proclaim to those who live on the earth–to every nation, tribe, language and people.

Titus 3: 5
he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit,

Titus 1: 9
He must hold firmly to the trustworthy message as it has been taught, so that he can encourage others by sound doctrine and refute those who oppose it.

2 Timothy 3: 16
All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness,

Galatians 1: 6, 8-9
6 I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you by the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel– 8 But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach a gospel other than the one we preached to you, let him be eternally condemned! 9 As we have already said, so now I say again: If anybody is preaching to you a gospel other than what you accepted, let him be eternally condemned!

Galatians 4: 9
But now that you know God–or rather are known by God–how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable principles? Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again?

1 Corinthians 1: 30
It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God–that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption.

Isaiah 28: 19
As often as it comes it will carry you away; morning after morning, by day and by night, it will sweep through.” The understanding of this message will bring sheer terror.

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