Unwitting Allies

At the same time, the historian must wonder if the Reformation would have survived at all without the threat of the Ottoman Empire.

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

Just as the political authority of Frederick played a key role in birthing Luther’s Reformation, the Ottoman Empire played a key role in buying time for the Reformation to build a foundation.

But first, there were disputes among the various Reformers that had to be confronted; most importantly, the Eucharist.  As far as Luther was concerned, Rome didn’t get it right in terms of the point of the sacraments, but Zwingli’s position was even worse.

For Zwingli, the supper was not all that different from celebrating a military victory. … For the supper is a type of public memorial that honors what Jesus accomplished for his people.

Another symbol, like the one a husband wears on his finger, signifying his marriage; a commemoration, if you will.  Luther criticized the sacramental system, but did not criticize the underlying idea that the bread and wine became the body and blood of Christ.

The Apostles’ Creed affirmed the bodily ascension of Christ; this was proof enough for Zwingli: either the Creed is unfaithful to the words of Christ, or Christ’s body and blood cannot be present.  He would write:

“He sits at the right hand of the Father, he has left the world, he is no longer present with us…. It is impossible to maintain that his flesh and blood are present in the sacrament.”

Luther had no respect for the exegetical, theological, or philosophical reasoning of Zwingli.  But that wasn’t the worst of it.  Luther openly questioned Zwingli’s Christian identity.  Luther would write:

“I testify on my part that I regard Zwingli as un-Christian, with all his teachings, for he holds and teaches no part of the Christian faith rightly.  He is seven times worse than when he was a papist.”

As far as Luther was concerned, to deny his view of the supper was to deny Christ himself; to oppose the real presence was to oppose the gospel; and settling for a figurative participation is to miss the Savior and His sacrifice altogether.

It seemed clear that all hope of a united Reformation was lost, and without a united front, the risks against the emperor were magnified.  Philip of Hesse wanted to give it another try: The Marburg Colloquy in 1529.  Luther and Zwingli would have to sit in the same room.

In search of common ground, the big elephant in the room was the Lord’s Supper.  Would Luther attend?  Why would he bother?  His mind was made up, and Zwingli was very wrong. 

Then came the decisions from the Second Diet of Speyer: unlike the first diet, that permitted certain reforms, in this diet all such talk was thrown aside.  Return to the beliefs and practices prior to Luther and the Diet of Worms; this was the demand.  Even more than before, a united front among the Reformers was necessary. 

Philip would try again; Luther resisted, but finally agreed…in a manner of speaking:

Luther approached the colloquy with demands.  He wanted the other side to arrive at the colloquy already willing to yield to his views.

“That I cannot yield after their arguments have been presented I know as certainly as I know they are in error.”

The colloquy began on Saturday morning, October 2, 1529.  Both sides assumed Scripture was in their corner; both sides, but especially Zwingli, appealed to the Church fathers, especially Augustine.  Most damaging to the possibility of some settlement: both sides insisted that the burden of proof was the responsibility of the other.

“This is my body.”  Jesus meant what he said.  “Do justice to that text,” Luther would demand.  Not so fast, according to Zwingli and Oecolampadius: Jesus often used figurative speech, for example, commanding his disciples to eat his flesh and drink his blood.  Were slices of flesh taken, pints of blood drawn?  Of course not.

The debate did not stay in the theological realm.  As is certainly understood by now, Luther’s personality and rhetoric would come shining through.  Zwingli would plead: “Please do not be angry about this!”  But Luther believed he had just cause to be angry.  Luther would insult not only Zwingli, but his Swiss homeland.  In a fancy of literary whim, Barrett offered a two-word paragraph:

Zwingli wept.

Luther would continue, and Oecolampadius would argue back.  All along, Zwingli’s tears would flow.  In the end, Philip asked Luther to draw up articles that could be agreed by both parties.  Luther did so, and Zwingli and eight others from both camps would agree: the Trinity of the Nicene Creed, the hypostatic union, original sin, justification by faith alone, preaching the gospel, baptism, and good works. 

They even agreed that Rome’s view of the supper was wrong…but, of course, they could not agree on the real presence.  The fifteenth article addressed this: they agreed both kinds should be used, that the mass is not a work that could secure grace for someone else, and that this partaking of the elements is necessary for every Christian.

“And although at this time, we have not reached an agreement as to whether the true body and blood of Christ are bodily present in the bread and wine, nevertheless, each side should show Christian love to the other side insofar as conscience will permit, and both sides should diligently pray to Almighty God that through his spirit he might confirm us in the right understanding.  Amen.”

When considering Zwingli’s theology as a whole it is uncertain that he fully aligned with all of what Luther wrote; he certainly did sign for the sake of unity.

Meanwhile, the Ottoman Turks were advancing.  Of course, in 1453, Constantinople was lost; in 1521, Belgrade was overcome.  Charles had to deal with what he saw as an impending threat; all of Europe being overrun.  He needed the financial backing of the Protestant princes, and would not receive this as long as the various judgements of the emperor and the Church against them remained active.

The time was now to bring some form of peace between the emperor Charles and the Protestant princes.  An imperial diet would meet in Augsburg in 1530, giving the German princes and theologians a chance to present their beliefs.  Charles, committed to the papacy, was at the same time searching for concord in his empire in the face of the Ottoman threat.

Johan Eck would publish Four Hundred Four Propositions.  In this, he addressed not only quotes from Luther, but other “heretical” groups, like the Swiss and the Anabaptists.  This placed Melancthon, standing in for Luther, in the position of having to defend from all sides.  For this, Melanchthon gave the Augsburg Confession, which offered a strong emphasis on catholicity.

His work, unlike Luther’s was not polemical, and did not directly refute or condemn the papcy and Rome’s beliefs.  Instead, Melanchthon focused on the beliefs of the Reformers in the face of Eck’s charges.  In other words, Melanchthon was diplomatic.

God, the Trinity, Nicaea, divine simplicity, the Apostles’ Creed, original sin.  The list of catholic agreement was long, and the intent that the Reformers desired a reformation within the Church was emphasized.  At the same time, distinctions were drawn, especially with regards to the Anabaptists.

Even on the topic of marriage among the clergy, appeals were made to the early church – where this was certainly the practice.  The same regarding the Mass, with appeals once again going back to the early Church. 

…the [Augsburg] confession concluded that it had only taught that which was “clearly grounded in Holy Scripture” and had taught nothing that was “against nor contrary to the universal Christian Church.”

In short, Augsburg represented a catholic argument over against a Roman argument.  Put otherwise, the papacy was Roman but not catholic.  

The Augsburg Confession became one of the most important confessions of the German Reformation.  Clear statements of what the German Reformers were for, and not merely more of what they were against; a real foundation, if you will.

For the confession not only put forward key distinctives – sola fide, for example – but it did so within a patristic tradition that Rome said she alone could claim.

This did not move at all the Catholic participants.  Nor did it move them to present a Catholic confession.  They were not the heretics; they need not defend their views.  Instead, Eck produced a Confutation, lucid in its rejection of the Confession.  The emperor Charles immediately agreed this response was triumphant.

Negotiations ensued.  It was easier to find common ground on doctrinal issues, as these were the playground of theologians and would not matter much for the common people; on the differences in practices, this proved much more difficult, as these were visible to all.  Luther would conclude further discussion was hopeless, counseling Melanchthon to abandon the negotiations; Melanchthon ignored Luther.

In the end, Charles again leaned into Rome’s Confutation, even ignoring whatever negotiations had taken place.  Melanchthon would write an Apology against the Confutation, but it mattered not.

Yet, there remained the issue of the Turks, and the funding and men necessary to fight.  Charles could not implement his verdict as he otherwise might.  The Protestant princes leveraged this issue, and it worked: Charles agreed not to harm their estates, and there would, at some point in the future, be a Protestant-Catholic general council.  The emperor would not inflict the punishments called for at Augsburg.

The Catholic estates were not happy with any of this.  Further, they did not see the Turkish threat as a serious one, and did not pledge their purses to the cause.  As it came about, the Turks did not make it to Vienna….

Meanwhile, new territories would join the Protestant side; this raised a new issue: would these be covered by the peace terms of 1532, prior to this conversion, or were these terms valid only for the territories that were Protestant at the time?

Conclusion

What would Luther do in the face of the risks posed by the emperor’s decisions?  In the past, he prohibited Christians from picking up the sword against the emperor – see the Peasants’ Revolt for this example.  But now it was possible, even likely, that the emperor would come against the Protestants.

He concluded that the German people could defend themselves if attacked:

…although committed to Romans 13, when civil authorities defy God, it is permissible for princes to disobey and defend their people. … The German people were not to sit back and become victims of the grave: if attacked, they were forced – yes, forced – to go to war.

He would write:

“…if war breaks out – which God forbid – I will not reprove those who defend themselves against the murderous and bloodthirsty papists, nor let anyone else rebuke them as seditious, but I will accept their action and let it pass as self-defense.”

Epilogue

The Heidelburg Catechism.  The Peace of Augsburg made room for the Lutherans, but not for the Reformed wing of the Reformation.  Again, the spark of the clash was Christ’s presence.  In 1562, Elector Frederick III summoned the university faculty to write a Catechism, which was presented by the next year.  It was used to teach both children and adults.

Most importantly, it served as a guardrail for the Reformed preachers against both Roman and Lutheran opposition.