LUTHER (Vol. 1-6). Grisar Hartmann
Christ and inheritor of the powers of Peter—the final decision in doctrinal questions and the correct and binding interpretation of Holy Scripture.
What Luther asserted, for instance, in his final letter to Dungersheim, brought the central dogma, namely, that of the teaching office of the Church, into still clearer light: “You have nothing else on your lips,” he says to Dungersheim and to all Catholics generally, “but the words Church, Church, heretic, heretic, and you will not admit that the injunction: ‘Prove all things, hold fast that which is good’ (1 Thess. v. 21), applies to any. But when we ask for the Church, you show us one man, the Pope, to whom you entrust everything [i.e. all decisions on matters of faith], and yet you do not prove by one word that his faith is unchangeable. Yet we have discovered in the Pope’s Decretals more heresies than any heretic ever invented. You ought to prove your standpoint and instead of this you always start from the same premiss.”[943] Theologians, as a matter of fact, had never claimed for all the contents of the Decretals a rank among the solemn pronouncements on faith. What is, however, more important is that Luther places the individual above the Church and the Primacy appointed by God; he puts the Scriptures in his hand, to interpret as he will. He continues as follows: “You ought to prove that the Church of God is with you and nowhere else in the world. We want the Scriptures for our judge, but you wish to be judges of the Scriptures.”[944]
In this connection, seeking to justify the bitterness of his polemics, he unwittingly gives an excellent portrait of himself: “You misinterpret the words I speak, just as the ass in your midst [Alveld] is doing at the present moment. This seems to be the way with you people of Leipzig, you read without attention, judge presumptuously, and are too stupid to understand the writings of others. Maybe my patience will come to an end and make room for anger, for I am after all as human as you; you sit there calmly and nag at me while I am oppressed with work and everyone shows me his teeth, and, forsooth, humility is expected of me while I am being attacked by ravening wolves. The weight of the globe presses upon me (‘orbis me premit’), and if I do so much as nod, you cannot endure it; if at last I turn round upon you, I am accused and found fault with on all sides. I write this to show my zeal for peace and concord; why, in God’s name, am I not allowed to enjoy them?”
He himself shows us later in what way he was desirous of “peace and concord.” From the words we have just quoted he seems, strange to say, to think that the Roman party had no right to fight for the great and sacred interests of Mother Church, nor to repel the attacks he was making upon so much which had hitherto been believed.
It is exceedingly sad to see how Luther, the once zealous religious, has become alienated more and more from the heart of the Church, from her life, ways of thought and feeling. Passion for his cause, precipitation, overstrain, both mental and bodily, the delusion that the whole world was watching the brave monk’s daring move, all this cuts him off, more even than his previous conduct, from practical association with the Church. His growing lukewarmness in religion is paving the way for his complete apostasy.
He confesses that he lived in a worldly turmoil of work and distractions, of parties and feastings which led him away “to immoderation, impropriety and negligence.” Recollection, penance and humility become more and more strangers to him, though he can still speak words of piety; everything is overcovered by the great struggle he has called into being; the less attention he devotes to the duties of the religious life, the more he gravitates to the Electoral Court, where Spalatin is ever busy seeking to provide him with a safe shelter. This is the talented man, so the Catholic sadly reminds himself, whose words might have assisted in calling forth a real reform within the Church, if, agreeably with the spirit and rules of the Church, he had only appealed to the Faithful and their pastors with earnestness and deliberation, with persistence and confidence in God. Instead of this, he pushed forward heedlessly in the slippery path to lay sacrilegious hands on the doctrine and the whole structure of the Church as existing up to that time.
At the close of this chapter some remarks may perhaps be permitted on certain mistaken or misunderstood tales concerning Luther, which belong to this period.
The history of the sermon referred to above (p. 334), delivered by Luther at Dresden in July, 1518, in the presence of Duke George of Saxony has recently been presented to Protestant readers in the traditional legendary form as “portraying the whole history of the following centuries.” If it were really so supremely important, then we ought, indeed, in our narrative to have put this sermon in a better light and assigned it a very different position. As a matter of fact, however, its contents are by no means of any great moment and do not even justify its description as “the trial sermon of the pale Augustinian monk.”
Duke George of Saxony, so we are told in this new and adorned version of the incident, “had applied to the Vicar-General of the Augustinians, Staupitz, requesting that he would procure for him an honest and learned preacher,” and Staupitz thereupon sent him Luther “with a letter of recommendation in which he described him as a highly gifted young man of proved excellence, both as regards his studies and his moral character.” As a matter of fact, however, it is only known that Luther happened to be in Dresden on July 25, 1518, on his way back from the Heidelberg Chapter. As he usually did, he took advantage of the opportunity afforded him of preaching. Of the letters of Duke George or of Staupitz history knows nothing.
The sermon was delivered in the castle (“in castro”) in the presence of the Court on the aforesaid day, which was a Sunday, and also the Feast of James the Greater.[945] The text was taken from the Gospel for the Feast in which our Saviour says to James and his brother: “Ye know not what ye ask” (Matt. xx. 22). On this text Luther, doubtless in his customary burning words, described “the foolishness of people in their prayers, and what the true object of prayer should be.” This is what he himself tells us.[946] He introduced among other things into the sermon a story about three virgins, which, he says, was “quite theological.” According to another account, he did not lose the opportunity of expressing the ideas which dominated him, namely, that those who listen to the Word of God with an attentive mind are true disciples of Christ, chosen, and predestinated for life everlasting, and that we must overcome “the fear of God”; he no doubt laid particular stress on faith and depreciated good works. It does not seem necessary to assume that there were two different sermons. “The evangelical certainty of Salvation, as against the traditional righteousness by works,” so runs the latest legendary account, “shone forth from his words more plainly than was agreeable to the Duke.”
Duke George was, and remained, a good Catholic. His opinion of Luther’s sermon is characteristic: “I would have given much money not to have heard it,” so he says, “because such discourses make men presumptuous.” This he repeated several times at table with great displeasure. The occasion which gave rise to this remark was that Barbara von Sala, a lady of the Court who was present, praised the sermon as most reassuring, and added that if she could hear such a sermon again she would die with a quiet mind.
At the Court much was said in disparagement of the sermon and the preacher, certain conversations of Luther in the town seeming to have contributed to this. The Prior of the Augustinian monastery at Dresden wrote afterwards to Luther telling him that many found fault with him as unlearned and arrogant, etc., that the sermon in the castle was made the ground for all sorts of reproaches; that it was also said that his story of the three virgins had been directed against three particular ladies at the Court, which surely was not the case. Shortly after, when preparing for the Disputation at Leipzig, Luther must evidently have feared that the Duke was not favourably disposed, for he wrote begging that, if he had displeased him, he would “graciously pardon everything.” The Duke replied that he was not aware of “any displeasure ever conceived by us against you.” Duke George, who was zealous for reform, was much in favour of Luther’s Indulgence theses and, after having come to an understanding with Eck, he sanctioned the Disputation at Leipzig notwithstanding the objections of the Bishop and the theological faculty.