Giving Form to The Reformation

“The Law says, ‘do this,’ and it is never done.  Grace says, ‘believe in this,’ and everything is already done.”

-          Heidelberg Disputation

The Reformation as Renewal: Retrieving the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, by Matthew Barrett

All of the Reformers knew what they were against.  Was there to be any hope that they could agree on what they were for?  What about the loose ends, the areas not strictly bounded by an understanding of theology and doctrine? 

In 1534, Rome welcomed in a new pope, Paul III.  He commissioned envoys to visit with Protestant representatives, and in 1535 one of these even met with Luther.  Nothing much changed – Luther was still a rebel, and the envoy, Peter Paul Vergerio, concluded that Luther was a heretic and pretentious for opposing papal authority.

By now, the Smalcald League had grown larger, posing a barrier to Imperial and Roman animosity.  Yet, there remained division on the Lord’s Supper.  Luther saw this division as troubling, and, surprisingly, he expressed readiness to revisit talks on this most sensitive topic.

By the end of May [1536], the Wittenberg Concord – the product proudly completed by Philip Melanchthon and Martin Bucer – was agreed upon and signed.

While each side held some criticisms of the document, there were overriding political concerns – a united front against Rome and the emperor.  At the same time, the emperor had his hands full with the Ottomans on one side and the French on the other – making for strange bedfellows, in a manner, as the Catholic French had certain common cause against Rome and the empire.

Meanwhile, the emperor Charles had not given up on some form of reunification between the Protestants and Rome.  Having given up on councils, he called colloquies, and over a three-year period, three such meetings were held.  These were preceded by scandal.

Landgrave Philip of Hesse was married to the daughter of George, Duke of Saxony.  But he had numerous affairs with other women.  He felt that if he could just take a second wife, this conduct might stop.  Philip decided to consult with Luther.  Luther would write that exceptions were permitted:

Following the lead of the Old Testament patriarchs, Philip could marry another woman as long as this bigamous arrangement was not proclaimed from the rooftops.

And it wasn’t just Luther – many of his colleagues in Wittenberg agreed.  And, as should have been obvious, this arrangement wouldn’t be kept secret.  Philip, Luther, and the entire Reformation was attacked for this scandal, the Reformation’s credibility deeply wounded.

If there was one doctrine on which the Reformation would stand or fall, it was the doctrine of justification.  Luther’s lectures on Galatians were key in making his views available to a larger audience, as these had been published.  Luther would write:

“It is very necessary, therefore, that this doctrine of faith be continually read and heard in public. … this doctrine can never be discussed and taught enough.  If it is lost and perishes, the whole knowledge of truth, life, and salvation is lost and perishes at the same time.”

“For if the doctrine of justification is lost, the whole of Christian doctrine is lost.”

No sinner will be saved by works of the law.  Hope is to be found in Christ alone.  This would be described as the passive righteousness of grace, as opposed to the active righteousness of works.  It is a righteousness received, not performed.  It is received by faith alone; God imputes this righteousness to us.

Justification, and more specifically imputation, is not a moral renewal within, a life-long, sanitated transformation.  Rather, justification is a verdict.  God declares the ungodly not guilty but righteous in his sight.

The law’s accusation is futile.  This is because Christ’s record is credited to the sinner – a “marvelous exchange.”  Had Luther left the farm, inventing a novel concept?  He did not think so.  Even in the second century, there was, in the Epistle to Diognetus, the language of a “sweet exchange,” where the “lawlessness of many might be hidden in the one righteous man….”

Yet, this did not spell the death of good works.  But it was good works only after this faith, this marvelous exchange, given by God’s grace.  Works in any other circumstance were futile and of no beneficial effect.  This would result in charges by Rome of antinomianism.  Luther would respond that this was not the case: passive righteousness bears fruit in active righteousness. 

Further, the law restrains wickedness, convicts the sinner, and instructs the Christian.  It first coerces, then terrifies, and finally demands obedience.  Obedience is required of the Christian:

“The divine law, written into the minds of human beings, teach[es] that God must be obeyed; moreover, the gospel requires obedience to God.”

John Agricola, Luther’s longtime friend, would challenge Luther and Melanchthon on the role and necessity of law.  Just preach grace and the Jesus who offers it.  After attempts were made at reconciliation, Luther grew frustrated and found this hopeless:

[These “new spirits”] “Dared to expel the law of God or the Ten Commandments from the church and to assign them to city hall.”

Luther saw this as just another of the devil’s tactics. 

First it was the pope, then Münzer, then Karlstadt, then the Anabaptists, then Servetus and Campanus, and now the antinomians.

There was still the issue of Rome.  Luther felt his doctrine of justification was irreconcilable with that of the Roman Church.  Which brings us to the Regensberg Colloquy of 1541.  Melanchthon, Bucer, and Pistorius would represent the Reformers, and Eck, Gropper, and Pflug would represent the Roman Church. 

A colossal task, to reach agreement on this doctrine – yet, perhaps possible as Rome had not put out an official position as of yet (which would happen at Trent).

Believe it or not, a document was affirmed by both sides.  Man is a slave to sin; man cannot be set free except by Christ as the one mediator; the Holy Spirit must move first.  The term “imputed” is even used, but it also says that the believer receives this promise of love; a risk: is this a back door to works righteousness?  Yet, both sides signed off – even to include the word “imputed.”  But they did not agree on everything: transubstantiation remained an issue.

This harmony didn’t last long: each of Wittenberg and Rome were not happy.  Luther despised the work, based on the risk raised by the word “love.” 

If justification is by faith and love, even if it is faith that works through love, then justification cannot be sola fide.

Eck would also start to crawfish; he tried to present that the document supported an infused righteousness, which was puzzling given that his Roman colleagues did not see it this way.  It seems Eck was trying to save face, seeing that Rome objected.  His fears were well-founded, as Rome accused the participants of selling out to the Reformation.  The pope would hold an Inquisition against those who supported the document. 

What many had considered an acceptable Catholic position now became heresy.

Next came The Council of Trent.  Luther wanted to publish something in time for the start of this council: Against the Roman Papacy Founded by the Devil.  He addressed the pope as “the Most Hellish Father.”  He used words such as “farts,” and “ass-pope” in his descriptions of the pope.  Luther was obsessed with the pope’s flatulence and excrement. 

Of course, Luther made his theological points, but I can’t get past what strikes me as elementary school childishness in this document.  It really as if Luther wanted to ensure there was no possibility of dialogue.

There was disagreement between the pope and Charles over who had authority to choose who could be invited to the council; the pope claimed full authority over this, as a prerogative of his jurisdiction.  Luther saw an opportunity here:

The pope needed a class on church history, said Luther. 

The earliest church councils were all called by the emperor, not popes, not bishops. 

Luther would die, confident that his sins were pardoned – a far cry from the views of the Augustinian monk in 1517….

Conclusion

One day she brought me to her childhood church

Old time religion filled the air

The preacher said you're saved by faith and not by works

I thought "that's good 'cause I haven't worked in a year"

-          Ready To Try, Neal Morse, from his album “Testimony”

Morse was a struggling musician at the time….

This really is my own two cents on the matter, and I will ask leniency regarding my terms as the subject is much more complex and nuanced….

In each of the Eastern Orthodox, Roman Catholic, and mainline Protestant denominations, I think they will all state that it starts with God’s grace and faith – the Holy Spirit moves first.  They may have different words, but it strikes me that this is the case.  I don’t believe any of these say justification begins through man’s work – his effort to keep the law, etc.

But it gets muddled after that.  Is it faith plus works, or is it faith that leads to works?  Yes, there is a theological difference, but I see no difference in the lived experience of a Christian. 

I don’t want to minimize the issue, as I am nowhere near qualified to do so.  But we know that faith without works is dead.  So, I am not sure that this entire debate is searching for a distinction with little difference.

For me, whether theologically pure or not in one tradition or another, I have separated in my thinking justification from sanctification.  It may be unsound theology, but it has helped me understand where I stand: justification by faith, sanctification by works made possible only through the grace of the Holy Spirit.

Epilogue 1

Woodcuts.  Both the Protestant and the Catholic side took to these to mock and criticize the other.  In each case, “our side” was presented as heavenly, and the other side as taking the road to hell and damnation. 

The Reformers depicted themselves as Israel crossing the Red Sea and Rome as the Egyptian army being drowned.  Rome was depicted with a chubby monk, with a demon blowing in his ear; Luther was depicted with seven heads – representing the seven-headed beast of the Apocalypse.  And, of course, the pope was depicted as the Antichrist.

Epilogue 2

Luther and the Jews.  Early on, he displayed a more conciliatory position on this topic.  In 1523, he wrote That Jesus Christ Was Born a Jew, and he advised persuasion, not force.  He shamed Rome for its mistreatment of the Jews. 

Twenty years later, his rhetoric changed – drastically.  On the Jews and Their Lies, perhaps his most vitriolic work regarding any group. 

Why had the Jews suffered desolation ever since their temple was destroyed, nearly 1,468 years and counting?  There was only one answer: the wrath of God.

Well, what if the Jews accept Jesus?  They won’t.  Luther advised a seven-step plan to deal with this, to include: set fire to their synagogues, their houses razed and destroyed, their prayer books be taken from them, their rabbis forbidden to teach, safe conduct on the highways be abolished, and their gold and silver taken for safekeeping.

Not that these views were much different than those of the Roman Church….