Luther. Grisar Hartmann
His hatred for theology leads him to make the following false and bitter charges: “The Scholastics teach that it is only necessary to fulfil the law outwardly, in deed, not with the heart; they do not even show how this is to be done, and thus the faithful are left in the impossibility of doing good, because they will never be able to fulfil the commandments unless they do so with the heart. These teachers do not even stretch out a finger towards the fulfilment of the law, I mean, they do not make its fulfilment depend even in the slightest on the heart, but merely on outward acts. Hence they become vain and proud.”[739] An esteemed Protestant historian of dogma, in a recent work, speaks of Luther’s knowledge of Scholasticism as follows:
“Luther does not appear to have been acquainted with the Schoolmen of the Middle Ages, more especially Thomas of Aquin. About this statement, which Denifle constantly repeats, there seems to me to be no doubt.”[740]
The Wittenberg Professor makes use of scathing reproofs such as had never before been heard. A good deal of his criticism was justifiable, and he was certainly not wrong in applying it judiciously in his own special domain to much that had hitherto been accepted as true. It is refreshing to those engaged in historical research to note how he cuts himself adrift from the legends of mediæval hagiography, and how he writes on one occasion requesting Spalatin to copy out some particulars for him from Jerome’s book which he might use for a sermon on St. Bartholomew, “for the fables and lies of the ‘Catalogus’ and ‘Legenda aurea’ make my gorge rise.”[741] Criticism of ecclesiastical conditions was also quite permissible when made in the right way and in the proper quarters; examples of such criticism were not wanting among the saintly mediæval reformers, and they might have been acceptable to the authorities of the Church, or, at any rate, could not have been repudiated by them.
But when Luther is dealing with the faults of the clergy, secular or regular, he looks at everything with a jaundiced eye as being saturated with arrogance, avarice and every vice, and seems to fancy all have become traitors to God’s cause. His love of exaggeration and his want of charity override everything, nor do these faults disappear with advancing years, but become still more marked. Never was there an eye more keen to detect the faults of others, never a tongue more ready to amplify them. And yet he, who does not scruple to support his fierce and passionate denunciations by the coarsest and most unfair generalisations, is himself the first to admit in his Commentary on Romans that: “There are fools who put the fault they have to find with a priest or religious to the account of all and then abuse them all with bitterness, forgetting that they themselves are full of imperfections.”[742]
He announces to his hearers in 1516 that, “to-day the clergy are enveloped in thick darkness”; “it troubles no one that all the vices prevail among the faithful, pride, impurity, avarice, quarrelling, anger, ingratitude” and every other vice; “these things you may do as much as you like so long as you respect the rights and liberties of the Church! but if you but touch these, then you are no longer a true son and friend of the Church.” The clergy, he continues, have received many possessions and liberties from the secular princes, but now they are quarrelling with their patrons and insisting on their exemptions: “Bad, godless men strut about with the gifts of their benefactors and think they are doing enough when they mutter a few prayers on their behalf,” “and yet Paul when describing the priest and his duties never even mentioned prayer[!]. But what he did mention, that no one complies with to-day.... They are priests only in appearance.... Where do you find one who carries out the intention of the Founders? Therefore they deserve that what they have received [from the princes] should be taken away from them again.”[743]
“As a matter of fact,” the mystic continues, quite manifestly conveying a hint to the secular authorities, “it were better, and assuredly safer, if the temporalities of the clergy were placed under the control of the worldly authorities ... then they would at least be obliged to stand in awe of others and would be more cautious in all matters.”
“Up to now the laity have been too unlettered, and from ignorance have allowed themselves to be led, though full of complaints and bitterness against the clergy. But now they are beginning to be aware of the secret of our iniquity (‘nosse mysteria iniquitatis nostræ’) and to examine into our duties.... In addition to this, it seems to me that the secular authorities fulfil their obligations better than our ecclesiastical rulers. They rigorously punish theft and murder, at least when the lawyers do not intervene with their artfulness. The Church authorities, on the other hand, only proceed against those who infringe their liberties, possessions and rights, and are filled with nothing but pomp, avarice, immorality and disputatiousness.” In the course of this strong outburst, which gives us an insight into the working of his mind, he goes on to brand the higher clergy as “whited sepulchres” and as the “most godless breakers of the law,” who purposely promote only stupid fellows to the priesthood, or even to the most exalted offices. Here the intemperance of his language is already that of his later days, though a year was yet to elapse before he published his Indulgence theses.
Strictures on the use of Indulgences occur, however, among his criticisms dating from this time. He attacks the “unlearned preachers” whose promises of Indulgences in return for donations for the building of churches, or similar pious objects, attract the people, though the latter are “altogether careless about fulfilling the duties of their calling.” He lays to the charge of the Pope and the Bishops not merely the real abuses in the preaching of Indulgences—as though they had been aware of them all—but also the making of Indulgences to depend on offerings; all the Bishops are, however, on the path to hell, and intent on seducing the people from the true service of God.[744]
He had, as we have seen, praised the worldly authorities at the expense of the ecclesiastical dignitaries, and now we find him introducing into his theological lectures a strange eulogy of Frederick, his Elector: “You, Prince Frederick, are yet to be guided by a good angel, therefore be on the watch. How greatly have you already been tried by injustice, and how rightly might you have taken up arms! You have suffered, you remained peaceable. I wonder, were you calling to mind your sins, and wishing thereby to confess them and do penance?” To this the mystic himself prudently replies: “I know not,” and adds: “Perhaps it was merely the fear of possibly getting the worse.”[745] The exhortations he sees fit to address to his sovereign are directed not so much against selfishness or other faults, but rather against his supposed excessive piety; he is blamed for frequently postponing audiences on the plea that he must be present at prayers or Divine Service, and yet, Luther thinks, “we ought to be resigned and indifferent to go wherever the Lord calls us and not attach ourselves obstinately to anything”;[746] another complaint was that the Elector was too much given to imitating the Bishop in the collecting of relics. The Elector’s love for rare relics was indeed notorious, and, as a matter of fact, Luther himself was of service to the Elector in this very matter at the time when Staupitz was negotiating for him at St. Ursula’s in Cologne. We hear of this in a letter, in which Luther also sends his thanks to the Elector for his present of a new cowl (cucullus) “of really princely cloth.”[747]
When, after his second course of lectures on the Psalms, Luther commenced the publishing of an amended edition he dedicated this, his first effort in biblical exegesis, to the Elector, with a preface in the form of a panegyric couched in the most fulsome language.[748] The Elector, Luther tells him, possessed all the qualities of a good ruler in no common degree; his love of learning not only rendered him immortal himself, but conferred