The Hammer

“[If you] continue to persist in your notorious errors and heresies, as you have begun to do, there is no doubt that all memory of you will be wiped out.”

-          John Von der Ecken to Martin Luther, Diet of Worms, 1521

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

Before we get there, this part of the story begins in late 1517 and the Ninety-Five Theses.  The writing and posting of such a document were nothing novel.  Doing this was a common practice, even done before by Luther two months earlier.  It was an invitation to an academic dispute, not a prelude to a revolt.

Some picture Luther as a raging mad protestor, eager to charge the gates of Rome and bring down the church.

This certainly wasn’t the case in 1517.  In addition to posting the theses (which, in reality, he may not have done), he sent a copy to Archbishop Albert – the one who presided over Tetzel’s preaching on indulgences.

Perhaps Luther’s motive with the theses was not completely innocent: he did send several copies to others, perhaps indicating that he wanted to fire a shot across the bow of the practice of indulgences.  In any case, none of the existing copies of the theses indicate a time and place for the disputation.

Regarding the earlier set of theses posted by Luther: about two months before the posting of the famous ninety-five, Luther posted ninety-seven theses.  These were not at all on indulgences (instead, on what is meant by “repent”), and did not cause anything like an uproar.

But on to indulgences and the more famous posting, thesis 32:

“Those who believe that they can be certain of their salvation because they have indulgence letters will be eternally damned, together with their teachers.”

And, hitting preachers like Tetzel below the financial belt, thesis 36:

“Any truly repentant Christian has a right to full remission of penalty and guilt, even without indulgence letters.”

Throughout, Luther gave the pope the benefit of the doubt; there is no chance that the pope is aware of, let alone condones, the practices surrounding the sale of indulgences.  At least this was Luther’s assumption at the time.  In the meantime, beliefs he would later abandon were still present; Luther was still working things out.

Albert of Mainz sent Luther’s theses to the University of Mainz, asking for their critique; at the same time, he sent a copy to Pope Leo, requesting a formal investigation: was Luther a heretic, as Albert suspected?  Had Albert merely ignored the document, Luther may have gone down unnoticed by history.

Tetzel also didn’t let it go, and Luther responded – both from the pulpit and with the pen.  Both methods were invaluable – taking the discussion out of an academic setting and into the broader society.  Again, perhaps Luther’s intent was for something more than a mere academic exercise.

The first hints that the pope might not be innocent in the method and practice of indulgences was when those assigned to investigate Luther charged him with challenging papal authority.  Curious, as he had written as if the pope was unaware of the practices. 

“He who does not accept the doctrine of the Church of Rome and pontiff of Rome as an infallible rule of faith, from which the Holy Scriptures, too, draw their strength and authority, is a heretic.”

So said Silvester Prierias, appointed to investigate Luther’s theology.  Papal infallibility as formal dogma was still a couple of centuries away, yet it was presupposed even at this time.  Luther was, in a sense, surprised by this charge – he had not challenged papal authority nor did he insult the pope.  Soon enough, he would learn formally that the pope was not on his side.

In 1518, Pope Leo X attempted to work the issue through Luther’s superiors in the Augustinian order.  In April, he was summoned to Heidelberg, and Luther was asked to present his position on sin and grace.  Those twice Luther’s age were resistant to his arguments; why appeal to the early Church fathers when you have Scotus, Ockham and Biel as examples?  However, those his age were sympathetic, some even convinced – the latter to include Martin Bucer.

As young theologians like Bucer came into contact with Luther’s theology, they were transformed in their thinking and took steps to spread Luther’s message across Germany.

And…the conflict thus escalated.  By August, Leo would issue a document, telling Luther he had sixty days to report to Rome.  He separately wrote to Frederick the Wise, Luther’s protector, to insist that Luther be arrested and sent to Rome.

Frederick was not easily intimidated.  His resistance was not as much theological as it was political, and he had leverage.  Both the emperor and the pope required Frederick’s support for various reasons, therefore neither could afford to make an enemy of Frederick.

Frederick did not appreciate Rome sticking its nose into German business, and especially when money was involved: indulgences.   Other German knights and nobles also offered Luther protection.  (As an aside, we have here a prime example of the value present to the individual during much of the medieval period of having two rival and complimentary authorities when one or the other of these authorities meant to do the individual harm.)

A fair trial was certainly another thing on Frederick’s mind.  Frederick would agree to an exchange between Luther and Cajetan in Augsburg, on German soil.  The pope agreed – but only for Luther to recant, not for a disputation.  If he did not recant, he was to be turned over to Rome.  On this point, Frederick again interceded, and the emperor promised Luther no harm.

Despite the pope’s wishes, a disputation did occur.  The major focal point: Scripture or the pope – which had the higher authority?  Cajetan would argue that the pope had higher authority than did Scripture, church councils, even the entire church.  For Luther’s part, and to deal with a strawman regularly raised (even today), he was not against all authority other than Scripture; he held that Scripture is the only infallible authority.

At the end of the disputation, Cajetan insisted that Luther recant; Luther refused.  Staupitz was recruited to try to convince Luther.  This wasn’t going to happen, of course.  There was silence from Cajetan for many days.  Staupitz, fearing Luther’s arrest, released Luther from his vows so he could leave the monastery.  And, now he was fully free to speak his mind…with arrest and a burning always a present possibility.

Yet, Luther remained restrained.  He offered to the pope a means to reach resolution through academic discussion, and if the pope would restrain his theologians regarding indulgences, Luther would return to his duties and refrain from polemical publishing.  Luther’s letter was met by silence.

John Eck broke that silence.  Two years earlier, he and Luther exchanged cordial letters on the topics.  But now, Eck came out with a merciless refutation of Luther’s ninety-five theses.  Luther would respond with his own work.  By the summer of 1519, the fight was out in the open: the Leipzig disputation, held in June of that year. 

Eck challenged Karlstadt, but Luther was to participate as well.  Luther promised to refrain from the topic of indulgences, unless it was brought up by the other side.  It was; Eck had every intention of taking this head-on. 

Eck was masterful in such environments.  While Karlstadt was accurate in his comments, he could not match Eck’s rhetorical abilities in the moment.  When it came to Luther, the topics of the primacy of the pope, penance, purgatory, the power of a priest to grant absolution, and, of course, indulgences, were addressed.

Eck pushed Luther, forcing him to voice the superiority of Scripture not merely over popes but also councils as well.  He identified Luther with two heretics: John Wyclif and Jan Hus.  Among other heresies, Hus was burned at the stake for denying that Peter was head of the Roman Church.  This was especially relevant at the University of Leipzig, founded by opponents of the Hussite movement who had left Prague a century earlier.

Luther would take a break and refresh himself with Hus; he concluded and admitted that he agreed with Hus after all.  This admission – in addition to placing Luther in the camp of one convicted of heresy – was also an accusation, implicitly, that councils did not have infallible authority, that councils could err.

Luther infuriated Eck when he concluded with Hus that a mere layman with the Scriptures in hand has more authority and credibility than the Roman pontiff himself without the Scriptures.  Luther also protested that the pope and the church should not, indeed cannot, establish new, novel articles of faith, like indulgences and purgatory.

Whether Luther knew it or not, he had at this point solidified his fate with Rome. 

Leipzig was an infuriating experience for Luther: the crowd, sympathetic to Rome, did all they could to put Luther and Karlstadt at disadvantage; an attempt was made to hold the debate without stenographers, allowing Eck’s booming rhetoric to carry weight over and above the written word; they disputed the selection of judges; Eck was given the opportunity to preach four sermons while in town, to Luther’s one.

During the debate, the crowd started clamoring and shouting when Karlstadt quoted from books to show that Eck’s view was contrary to the church fathers.

This resulted in books being banished from the proceedings.

Conclusion

“In short, we are all Hussites without knowing it.  Even Paul and Augustine were in reality Hussites.”

So Luther would conclude, by the beginning of 1520.  For example, like Hus, he felt that both the bread and wine should be offered to the laity. 

Luther left Leipzig alive, but feeling hopeless about any impact his reform might make on the Roman Church.  But at around the same time, he would find a new avenue, one that would prove most instrumental in his desire for reform.

The printing press.