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The Reformation part 1

 

Media – Luther

John Dickson (Studio)

We’re listening to a clip from the 2003 film ‘Luther’. In this scene, Alfred Molina plays Dominican Friar Johann Tetzel, who travelled through Germany as a kind of salesman for the Roman Catholic Church in the early 16th century. It’s a powerful portrayal of a man who has gone down in history as the villainous preacher who provoked one of the greatest catastrophes – or recoveries, depending on your perspective – ever to fall upon Christianity. Tetzel was sent by the archbishop of Mainz to declare a special indulgence for those who contributed funds towards the rebuilding of St Peter’s Basilica in Rome. Essentially, he preached that those who purchased an indulgence paper would receive full remission of their sins, guaranteeing them a place in heaven. Tetzel wasn’t the first to hawk indulgences. Warriors in the 13th century had been promised salvation for their participation in the Crusades. But in the final decades of the 15th century, a new type of indulgence was on the market. Now, you could “upgrade” a soul from purgatory (a kind of holding place for the not-quite-pure before they get to heaven). You could make a simple financial contribution for yourself, or for someone else. You could buy an indulgence for your dead mother or father to release them from purgatory and send them to paradise. This practice was denounced by some at the time (within the Catholic church), but it nonetheless took off. And Tetzel preached his heart out across Germany. Here’s a taste, from one of his sermons: 

Reading

You should know that all who confess and in penance put alms into the coffer according to the counsel of the confessor, will obtain complete remission of all their sins.

. . . Why are you then standing there? Run for the salvation of your souls! Be as careful and concerned for the salvation of your souls as you are for your temporal goods, which you seek both day and night.

. . . Don’t you hear the voices of your wailing dead parents and others who say, “Have mercy upon me, have mercy upon me, because we are in severe punishment and pain. From this you could redeem us with small alms and yet you do not want to do so.” Open your ears as the father says to the son and the mother to the daughter. . . .“We have created you, fed you, cared for you, and left you our temporal goods. Why then are you so cruel and harsh that you do not want to save us, though it only takes a little? You let us lie in flames so that we only slowly come to the promised glory.” You may have letters which let you have, once in life and in the hour of death . . . full remission of the punishment which belongs to sin.

John Dickson (Studio)

Those who purchased indulgences went back to their local parishes, assured of salvation for themselves or others. In the small town of Wittenberg, in Saxony, the parishioners of local friar Martin Luther returned from a Tetzel sermon reporting that he’d even claimed that papal indulgences could absolve a man who had committed the vilest offence.  

Media – Luther

John Dickson (Studio)

That was too much for Martin Luther. On October 31 1517, he posted a set of 95 Theses to the door of Wittenberg’s Castle Church. They were propositions, meant to stimulate academic debate on the sale of indulgences. They provoked somewhat more than debate. This was the beginning of one of the greatest ruptures in European history, a rupture that permanently split the church, triggered wars, created new city-states, and even led, in the opinion of many experts, to the Enlightenment, Science, and the secularization of the West. We’re talking about The Reformation. And it’s such a big deal we’re going to take two whole episodes to examine it—and still only scratch the surface. How did one man go from a pious local friar in an obscure backwater town to the leader of a global movement that ripped Christianity in two (and then three, then four, and ultimately thousands of Protestant denominations!). And what is the real legacy of this thing we call The Reformation? I’m John Dickson, and this is Undeceptions.

Undeceptions theme 

 

 John Dickson:
Okay. Let’s turn to Martin Luther. He’s the big name. Can, can you give us a potted history? I mean, you are able to summarize his life from childhood to, you know, the. in 60 seconds. 

 Jennifer McNutt:
That’s very challenging. . Okay, I’m gonna do my best.

John Dickson (Studio)

That’s Rev Dr Jennifer Powell McNutt, an associate professor of Biblical and Theological Studies here at Wheaton College with me. Jennifer has a particular interest in the history of the church from the Reformation through to the Enlightenment, co-editing ‘The Oxford Handbook of the Bible and the Reformation and a series of essays called The People’s Book: The Reformation and the Bible.  

 

Jennifer McNutt:
Um, I think the first thing to note is that he is a very unexpected figure. Like there’s nothing inevitable about his rise to fame, um, or, and that’s partly because he comes from a modest background, you know, his. Father was a minor, um, who kind of moves up in the ranks. He makes a good marriage. Um, his family enters into citizenship as a result. So Luther has access to education. And so he’s, there is actually some social mobility that is happening in Luther’s life and he’s, but he’s destined to go into law. That is the expectation until we know this famous story of an experience that he has where he’s almost hit by a lightning bolt, um, as he is travel. back to school and he makes a vow, um, to enter into the, um, to the monastery. 

Reading

“On a sultry day in July of the year 1505 a lonely traveller was trudging over a parched road on the outskirts of the Saxon village of Stotternheim. As he approached the village, the sky became overcast. Suddenly there was a shower, then a crashing storm. A bolt of lightning rived the gloom and knocked the man to the ground. Struggling to rise, he cried in terror, “St Anne help me! I will become a monk.” 

John Dickson (Studio)

That’s the opening paragraph from the revered biography of Martin Luther by Roland H. Bainton. It’s a dramatic account of that famous moment that changed Martin Luther’s life forever. It also set in motion a chain of events that would change the world.

Jennifer McNutt:
It quickly becomes clear that he is very intellectually astute and he is directed to, um, take up a position at the University of Wittenberg in teaching, actually at first he’s teaching Aristotle and then, um, he is moving into what will become known as basically a biblical theology is what he’s doing. And, um, you know, in this Wittenberg is, is is not really. Much at this time. You know, the university is brand new. Mm-hmm. , um, the, uh, , uh, Frederick of Saxony the Prince, he, um, struggles to get a printer to move to Wittenberg cuz it’s kind of a podunk town. It’s hard to get to, you know? Um, so all of what transpires is very shocking, very surprising, and at a time when. it would be, you know, difficult to become known. 

John Dickson:
Can anything good come out of Wittenberg? Yes,

Jennifer McNutt:
Exactly. Can anything good? So it’s, it’s very shocking. Then what transpires, you know, the, um, and there are lots of reasons for kind of trying to understand how it is that Luther becomes, um, who we remember him to be.

John Dickson (Studio)

Martin Luther is an unexpected protagonist. He is living in a time of great change. And tension is already brewing by Luther’s time. Christianity has always had a self-reforming spirit. It goes back to Jesus’s own warnings against religious hypocrisy and his call for self-assessment (“Take the log out of your own eye”, that kind of thing). Through the Middle Ages, there had already been several reform movements. The 16th-century Reformation is just the biggest one! And we’ll hear a little later about a contemporary of Luther’s, living across the Alps, who comes to very similar conclusions about his beloved Roman Catholic Church. But winding back a bit, I asked Jennifer to paint me a picture of what life was like in the 1500s – what is the average person dealing with every day? And what are the big ideas taking hold?

Jennifer McNutt:
When we’re building that story, that narrative of the reformation, we’re trying to get back to the past, I think there are some things that will sound familiar to us about that time period. And there were are some things that are really strange um, and unusual to that time period. And that’s just the beauty of history, isn’t it, is just kind of navigating what’s similar and what’s different about the 15 hundreds. And so some of the things like, for example, the bubonic plague, that the community is recovering from this, you know, pandemic basically for them that really resonates right now with, um, Christians today as we think about what we’ve all been through. Um, but so they’re recovering from the bubonic plague. They don’t even know that they’re recovering from it. And, um, it’s also, you know, the 15 hundreds is the turn of the century. So there’s also apocalyptic system that is going on. Um, the mindset of the average person really thinks that they’re living through the end times. Mm. And that’s part of Luther’s own frame of mind as well. Um, so that apocalyptic is also connected to the plague . Yeah. Right. Um, but as a result of that, there’s also this vibrant, I would say, popular piety that is taking place, um, at the end of that period. And as we begin the 16th century, and there’s this desire, this hunger for, um, for scripture, for participation in, um, the spiritual life of the church. Um, there’s kind of lay multiple lay movements going on of groups that are not gonna take vows, right. Of monasticism, but they want to have part of that life, that prayerful life, and that involvement. And it’s, it’s in part because of that landscape that they’re gonna be so receptive to the reformation and, and interested in what Luther has to say. 

John Dickson:
So is everyone super religious in those days? I mean, that, that’s the cliche, but is the cliche basically true? Or was there impiety as well? 

Jennifer McNutt:
Well there is definitely impiety, absolutely. Yeah. Um, and one of the ways that we can tell that is with, you know, looking at some of the earlier councils of the church, uh, I usually point my students to the Fourth Lateran Council of 1215. And, you know, we can see there where they say like, Hey, you’ve gotta go to mass at least once a year. You have to go to confession at least once a year. And that’s an indicator that they’re not necessarily going to mass.    

John Dickson:
Can you tell us about the intellectual, you know, contours of that period? What were the main sort of medieval ways of thinking?

Jennifer McNutt:
Right. Such a good, um, good question. I would say the first person that comes to mind is Aristotle.

John Dickson (Studio)

For Aristotle, you are potentially virtuous, and you can be trained in the good life, and attain that good life. Luther said Nup! He thought Aristotle’s work on Ethics was “the worst enemy of grace”. Luther reckoned that Aristotle—and the church that followed Aristotle—had things back to front. “We do not become righteous by doing righteous deeds,” he wrote, “but, having been made righteous, we do righteous deeds.”This is the crux of Luther’s thinking: God declares us righteous, and we live out that righteous status in our daily lives. But here’s the thing: this isn’t an innovation. It actually comes from Augustine of Hippo – way back in the 4th century! Augustine stressed that human beings cannot attain goodness by their own efforts. They are totally reliant on God’s grace, not only to do good but even to will to do good. This is an important part of where we’re going in these Reformation episodes. Luther (and the other Reformers) didn’t see themselves as innovators or progressives. They thought and argued that they were calling Mother Church back to the foundations of Christianity, back to Augustine, back to the Apostle Paul, back to Jesus himself. Despite appearances, Luther was not a revolutionary. He certainly didn’t want to start something new. 

Jennifer McNutt:
So I like to say it’s such a vibrant time, and the Latin language has never been so sophisticated. It’s never been so capable of capturing these very complex ideas about God. And so the, the conversation is so rich in those ways, and there’s really these two schools of thought that come out, and they are looking at the world in different ways. One is the Via Antiqua, which is, um, sort of embraces a philosophy of realism, and then the Via Moderna, which embraces the philosophy of nominalism and, um, that actually really matters and how they see the world, how they understand, um, you know, how do we acquire knowledge, um, when I look at the world, am I seeing how the world actually is, or am I, you know, needing to explore and question it further? Um, and so we can see Luther, you know, is really shaped by these, uh, conversations and this, uh, education.

John Dickson (Studio)

Ever since I learned about the via antiqua and the via moderna (the old and new ways) back in theological college, I couldn’t quite get my head around why this debate was such a big deal in medieval philosophy. One of them insisted there was such a thing as a triangle—a true archetypal triangle—and the other said, ‘No, there are just individual things we name triangles.’ But this did have implications for how we view our connection to God. In the old way, we must begin with God as pure goodness, and, from that base concept, everything, including our own goodness, derives sequentially and logically. But along comes William of Ockham, a 13th-century English scholar and Catholic friar, and he disagrees. Why multiply concepts, he says? We don’t need to start with God and work through logical concepts to arrive at the goodness in us. It’s simpler to assume that God could make his covenant with humans any way he liked. He is not bound by any universal concepts and we are not connected to those universals. The punchline is that we need not posit God’s eternal goodness as the ground of our goodness. Humans just try to be good, by their own will, and God in his kindness rewards them for that goodness. Something like that, anyway. I asked our next guest, Matthew Barrett, if he could flesh this out for me. 

 

 

John Dickson:
Can you tell us about the different schools of thought that prepared the way for the Reformation? I, I’m thinking particular of the Via Moderna and the sort of new school of Augustinian, Augustin is a person we mentioned often, uh, on this show. Uh, I think people, you know, accounting it like bingo. But, um, there, there was a kind of revival of Augustinian thought. Can you, can you talk about those two schools for me?

 Matthew Barrett:
Yeah, these two schools, I, I can’t stress just how important these two schools are, so let’s just begin. uh, with Augustinianism.

John Dickson (Studio)

Matthew Barrett is Associate Professor of Christian Theology at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. He is the author of several books, including Reformation Theology and his latest book, Reformation as Renewal: Retrieving the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, which is published by our sponsor Zondervan Academic. Matthew is also the host of the Credo Podcast, where he interviews some fantastic theologians. We’ll put a link to all these things in our show notes. 

Matthew Barrett:
I would argue, and I do argue in my book, that uh, there is a broad continuity that exists from Augustine all the way through Thomas Aquinas, and we could call this many things, but it, there is a Augustinian stream of thought that applies both in philosophy and in theology. It is a long, complicated story, and I spend several chapters on it. But in philosophy, this means that, uh, this tradition, well, they are realists. They believe that there are such things as universals and that things are not arbitrary. The things that we see, you know, we may see many different things in our world, but they have natures and the good, the true, and the beautiful things of our world, well, those actually, uh, participate in the good, the true, the beautiful. So they’re realistic in that important sense.  And this had significant, uh, ramifications then for everything from Grace to the church itself. Now, the first thing we have to just be very clear about is that in this Augustinian Thomistic tradition, grace was always primary, and I can’t emphasise that enough. All of that changes, uh, I would argue when you get to the Via Moderna. So think about figures like William of Occham -he rejects the realism of that Augustinian Thomistic tradition, and instead he proposes a nominalism [00:13:00] in which, uh, things are the way they are because of the way that they are named. And so you have certain individual things, but they don’t necessarily participate  in something, uh, greater than themselves. Uh, is a volunteerism. this is a, a very strong emphasis on, uh, the will. If you do that which is within you, God wiill then reward you with grace necessary for merite justification. Now that [00:14:10] at first can sound very gracious of God, but actually it’s a very radical shift because as gracious as it sounds like God would make this covenant. First of all, all of a sudden salvation is simply based on a divine fiat, uh, God’s will just declaring something to be, not something intrinsic to say justice or righteousness per se. And secondly, it’s a radical shift because notice the condition on which grace is received. Grace is no longer primary. It’s now subsequent to you doing your best. Long story short, Luther, was trained. He wasn’t the only one. Uh, but Luther was trained in this via Moderna approach to philosophy and also salvation. He tries it on himself. And we see how this brings Luther to a crisis point because as much as he’s been told, God will come through, if you do your best, Luther starts to ask himself, how do I know if I’ve done my best? And how do I know after all Christ seems such a judge? How do I know he will actually be gracious? And even if he gives me grace, how do I know he will follow through to the end to come through on his promise of grace? Luther was plagued with these types of questions and many, many others. All that to say, uh, it’s not as if, uh, the reformers have no, uh, you know, nominalist bent in them. But as the, the decades and certainly the centuries go on, what becomes very clear is that the reformation, and specifically we could say the reformed Orthodox, uh, who are their, their children, their, their heirs, they react against this nomialist, volunteerist understanding of salvation. And they want to go back to something far more Catholic, uh, in Augustinian understanding of philosophy and theology. And whether some of them know it or not, some are a bit more conscious of it. Uh, even Thomistic understanding… 

John Dickson (Studio)

Thomas Aquinas is the 13th-century philosopher-theologian we’ve mentioned once or twice on Undeceptions. He is arguably the most influential thinker in Western theology since Augustine. And, actually, he’s on the same page as Augustine on loads of things. We can think of his project as attempting to integrate Augustinian theology (with its emphasis on the divine goodness as the basis of our goodness) with the philosophy of Aristotle. His magnum opus was the Summa Theologiae. It gets a bad rap from some Protestants – partly because he’s the one who laid the philosophical ground for transubstantiation (the view that the bread and wine change substance if not form into the body and blood of Jesus) and also, I guess, because he’s a hero of Catholic theology. Most protestants know they don’t like him, without having read him. But in its own way, the Summa Theologiae prepared the ground for the Protestant Reformation itself. 

John Dickson:
Yes, I was about to ask you, uh, about that. Um, because Thomas Aquinas, who is also part of the Undeceptions Bingo competition, uh, mentioned regularly, um, is often seen as the bogeyman by Protestants. And yet, uh, you make the point that, uh, really Thomas Aquinas. On this question, largely on the same page.

Matthew Barrett:
 You know, I’m John. I’m so glad that you have said that. Uh, I, I’m the one always saying this, and, uh, I get looks, uh, but now you’ve said it, John, so I can just go to

John Dickson:
Well, on my library, opposite me is the Summa.

Matthew Barrett:
Yes. And, and maybe we could even set this up a little bit, couldn’t we? Because I, I often think that, and, and to be frank with you, sometimes Protestants, uh, this is our  own fault. Uh, we’ve been told a very popular narrative that says to be Protestant is to be against Thomas Aquinas. There’s several problems with that. Number one, just historically speaking, it’s just not true. When you go back and you look at the 16th century and most definitely the 17th century, actually, what you find is, um, there of them are quite willing to not just engage Thomas Aquinas actually retrieve large, uh, swaths of his theology. This is important because Rome is accusing the reformation of being innovative therefore heretical. If the reformers and the reformed heirs depart from Thomas on core doctrines of Christianity, well they just feed that accusation. They actually lend it support.  So, aligning with Thomas, though, he’s not the only one you know this, like you mentioned Augustine, but aligning themselves with Thomas on innumerable innumerable doctrines of the Christian faith actually supports their orthodoxy. Lots of good historians then have demonstrated that. Uh, when it comes to the Reformed and Thomas Aquinas, there’s actually far more continuity we have. When it comes to the reformation, It’s not the case that it’s a reaction against Thomas.

John Dickson (Studio)

So that’s the philosophical river that Luther was swimming in. Meanwhile, the Papacy of the late Middle Ages was also evolving. In the early 13th Century, Pope Innocent III took the power of the pope to a new level. He also called the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215, which made some really important decisions that set the stage for what was to come. The council declared that salvation could not be found anywhere outside the Catholic Church (this, of course, meant that the later Reformers, who were excommunicated, wouldn’t enjoy salvation). The council also set in stone the idea of ‘transubstantiation’ – the Catholic doctrine that, during the Mass, the bread and wine used for Communion changes ‘substance’ (if not external form) to become the body and blood of Jesus Christ. And the council declared that a person who falls into sin after baptism—all of us—could find favour with God by “right faith and good actions”. These are all ideas that The Reformation will react against.

John Dickson:
What sort of power did the papacy have in, let’s just say the 14th and 15th centuries just at the dawn of the Reformation period?

Matthew Barrett:
Yes. Well, power is probably the right word to use. Uh, that’s a very strategic word because think oftentimes the six 16th century is approached as if this power comes out of nowhere, which of course is not true. I think 13th, 14th, and 15th centuries in particular, uh, there are, there’s a divide. Um, and perhaps I can sum it up this way. There are those who think that, um, councils should have major, perhaps even final say. And they are, there are also those on the other side who think that, uh, the papacy or, or specifically the Pope should have the, um,  the primacy of power, um, as we could put it. And this divide really evolves over the Middle Ages, so that by the time you get to the 16th century, through many ups and downs, sometimes even popes’, excommunicating one another, by the time you get to the 16th century, you actually have a primacy of the papacy, if we could put it that way, uh, in which, uh, the, the scene is set, uh, the context is in place.

John Dickson:
You also write about the, um, corruption of the papacy. Uh, are you just one of those annoying Protestants? I, I just think of my, um, Catholic listeners, uh, even those who aren’t very devout Catholic listeners, as soon as they hear a Protestant, uh, talk like this, they get very Catholic. So, um, what do you mean by the corruption and debauchery of the papalcy of this period?

Matthew Barrett:
Well, I like to say though, this is, you know, risky because is, uh, a, a true temptation. But at that risk, I’ll, uh, I like to say that there are, uh, two facets, or to put it colloquially, two sides of the coin, so to speak. Um, there’s one side of the coin in which there is, uh, a broad continuity or even, and yes, I am Protestant, uh, catholicity, it, that the reformers dare not deviate from, and we can get into that later I’m sure. But the other side of that coin, uh, is far more polemical. Uh, there are areas, uh, certain corruptions that, the reformers think are catastrophic. Now, to be really clear, there’s specific corruptions, and I know that sometimes we, Protestants, uh, can sometimes sound as if, uh, it’s everything and Luther’s rhetoric early on lends itself in that direction, um, in large part because of the polemical heat he’s experiencing. However, when we look at the actual polemics of the 16th century, what we realize is much of the heat is over soteriology and ecclesiology. 

John Dickson (Studio)

Soteriology (from the Greek word ‘to save’) is just the study of how salvation works—how someone gets right with God or justified. Ecclesiology is the theology of the church – what role does church play in salvation and Christian practice. The Reformers had a lot to say about both soteriology and ecclesiology. 

Matthew Barrett:
Now, there’s a lot that falls under those two umbrellas. But all that to say, uh, as the reformers are pursuing reform, it’s these two domains that are in front of them that they are quite concerned about. So you won’t see them, for example, um, Writing treaties after treaties on, say, the Trinity or Christology or, any number of other, um, doctrines of the Christian faith. They are primarily concerned with soteriology and ecclesiology. And they even, they’re quite bold. They even say that, um, in terms of the specifics, say purgatory or indulgences even papal supremacy and so on. There’s many examples here. But they are even so bold to say that they think that these are more recent innovations rather than beliefs that the church has always held or has a basis, uh, in the church Catholic, the church universal down through the ages. Now, that’s a bold claim, and we can talk about this more, but it, it, it’s a crucial claim because they’re not severing themselves from the church Catholic, they are actually trying to renew it on the, because they see, uh, these corruptions that they think are actually far more new than old. There are certain ways that, uh, the papacy, at least in the estimation of the reformers, the papacy is actually giving itself towards these innovations. What do I mean by that? Well, I think by the time you get to the 16th century, uh, they are quite concerned that, uh, they are seeing on the, on the street, (which might be different than say what, you know, uh, a Catholic theologian believe), but what they are seeing on the street had significant pastoral consequences. Uh, sometimes when we go to 1517, for example, we think of Luther’s, uh, you know, very famous, uh, 95 thesis. But we sometimes forget that that’s coming out of a pastoral context, [00:07:50] uh, from even from Luther’s own experience which, uh, at that point he’s not so much, uh, developing a mature, uh,  theology that we would later call Reformation Theology. But at that point, he’s actually concerned about an abuse. Of what he’s seen. at that point, it’s not so much  a wholesale rejection, but he’s noticing an abuse, say of the penance system, for example, or the certain claims that the papacy is making, as if it has that power. Luther feels as though this is misleading, especially as it, uh, kind of manifests itself with popular preachers. Uh, Luther is afraid This is then misleading the masses, which one who’s pastorally concerned is, is Luther’s, you know, primary motivation. Well, all that to say, all that to say, uh, at, at the end of the day, when the reformers face off with the papacy, uh, I think sometimes we have the impression, right, that, oh, you know, the, the reformers are. Are, uh, you know, starting a new church or a new denomination. But, uh, actually, it’s quite the opposite. Their intention was to reform from within, but in the end, they are the [00:09:20] ones, uh, Rome is the ones, is the one that removes the reformers from the church. Something that Luther, uh, never intended.

John Dickson (Studio)

In his book, Matthew quotes one of the foremost scholars on the Reformation, Richard Muller, who illuminates this point:

“It is worth recognizing from the outset that the Reformation altered comparatively few of the major loci of theology: the doctrines of justification, the sacraments, and the church received the greatest emphasis—while the doctrines of God, the trinity, creation, providence, predestination, and the last things were taken over from the tradition by the magisterial Reformation virtually without alteration.”

So, the Reformers weren’t messing with the structure of the Christian faith. But they were trying to renew the internal logic of the faith. 

 John Dickson:
So I want to, um, zero in on his big reforming idea. Can you like, for people who like lots of my listen. They don’t believe in Christianity. They’re just intrigued.  What was his idea and why was it so revolutionary?

Jennifer McNutt:
Right. So Luther is responding to, in part how he is shaped, um, by theology. So he is shaped by the Via Moderna School of Thought that has introduced some innovations to thinking about the process of salvation. And one of the most important changes that they introduce is they take away something called convenient grace. And probably your listeners will be familiar with Occam’s razor and how it’s kind of cutting things down. Now, the reason that they remove that grace is because they wanna emphasize God’s benevolence. They think that that is a way to, to stress God’s graciousness and but in so doing, they opened the door for a righteousness that is earned, um, rather than cooperative. And a cooperative righteousness was had what had been taught since Augustine. So Luther not only retrieves Augustine’s thought he is after all an Augustinian fryer – so, um, there’s that – but he also, um, comes to a different conclusion than, than Augustine because not only does he reinstate that grace that starts the process of our salvation. He also redefines then what it means to be justified in God’s eyes. So that means that what it means to be treated as, as holy, basically. And, um, whereas the, the church before Luther had said our justification is our process of becoming righteous. For Luther, it is that we are treated as righteous, even though we aren’t. Because it’s not based on what we do, it’s, it’s what Jesus Christ has achieved for us.

John Dickson:
It’s a really cool idea. And I can understand how many listeners who even don’t believe can, can see that’s a, that’s a lovely idea. Yes. The. I don’t have to actually be righteous to be loved and, you know, treated well by God. Yes, he can. He can justify me. But why was it so revolutionary? Why isn’t it just a lovely idea?

Jennifer McNutt:
Well, I think in part because of how the whole church structure you know, it’s very disruptive to how the whole church functions. So now it throws into question things like, do we have relics anymore? Do we go on pilgrimages? Do we, you know, how do we practice our piety? 

John Dickson:
Because that was all about sort of accruing more righteousness, right?

 Jennifer McNutt:
The cooperative element. Yeah, and I think it’s really important to note that in the late medieval period, by this time, there is an understanding that other people can do righteous acts on your behalf and you don’t even have to know about it, and it could have an impact on you. And so one of the things, for example, indulgences, you could be in purgatory, so you’re dead, and someone could buy this certificate to get you out, and that wouldn’t require anything on your part to do that. Or someone could say a mass that you paid them to do.  And that can have an impact on your soul, even though you are not there. You are not participating, you’re not receiving it. And so one of the things that Luther’s doing is he’s saying that our internal lives, our internal relationship with God matters that God wants our hearts and not just our actions. And so it, you know, so a question is raised about how do we do piety then? What are good works? And I would say that in, based on Luther’s own writings that he was seeking to restore, good works that are really good, right? And not, um, creating some sort of, uh, not done under duress.

Matthew Barrett:
Contrary to, to some, some caricatures, Luther actually does have a place for good works. but he  wants to locate good works in the Christian life as the fruit of the tree that we call, God’s grace and justification, rather than as say, the cause or the basis on which we are justified. Yes, he wants to understand good works have a place, but uh, only on the basis of Christ and Christ’s good works. And so this is why, you know, there’s that famous, uh, painting where Luther, his congregation is in front of him, and Luther is pointing. He’s in the pulpit, and he’s pointing beyond himself. He has the scriptures in front of him, and he’s pointing beyond himself to Christ on the cross, who’s mediating between, uh, the people under Luther and the Father above the head of Christ crucified. Well, that’s a, that in many ways summarizes Luther’s, uh, mission in many respects, because justification then is by grace alone. But perhaps  we could be more precise because for Luther, we are justified, uh, by grace alone through faith alone. So faith isn’t the basis of justification, but it is instrumental. And what is our faith in, well, it’s on the basis of Christ alone and his merits for us. Well, as you can imagine, you know, to mention just one, a second thing, that then set that then, uh, put into jeopardy, uh, which is this is why, uh, many of the, the theologians that opposed Luther were so upset because that then, of course put into jeopardy, um, the pennance system itself, as well as I’m gonna sneak in another one here, though I know I’m not supposed to as well as other consequential doctrines like purgatory because for Luther, if Christ has actually accomplished our redemption, If, if his work is, is the basis, uh, then Christ has indeed paid at all. So there’s no room for meriting justification. Rather, the works that Luther, uh, is so adamant about those follow from justification. They’re the fruit from the tree.

John Dickson (Studio)

And now we’ve reached 1517 and the sermons of Johann Tetzel that so infuriated Luther.  There’s quite a catchy jingle attributed to Tetzel, though some dispute that it ever appeared in his sermons: “When the coin in the coffer rings, the soul from purgatory springs.” Whether or not Tetzel spoke the words, he communicated that vibe. And Luther’s 27th thesis – part of the 95 he posted on the door – seems to be a reaction to that sentiment. Luther stated:

“They preach only human doctrines who say that as soon as the money clinks into the money chest, the soul flies out of purgatory.”

We might say, “Oh, that’s just Luther blustering”, but given that these were official debating points—things Luther wanted to be discussed—there must have been something to it. His colleagues must have recognized that some people were saying things about coins ringing and souls springing. The 95 Theses are too many to list here. But we’ve heard from Jennifer and Matthew what Luther’s main gripes were. He was attempting to expose the abuse of indulgences and call into question the authority and integrity of a pope who would let this happen. In response, Tetzel labelled Luther a heretic and called for him to be burned at the stake. Tetzel wrote a set of theses himself, defending papal authority and infallibility. Luther also went toe to toe with some of the best theologians of the time – including the Dominican theologian Sylvester Prierias and cardinal Cajetan. Luther was ordered to recant. He wouldn’t. Luther’s biggest theological challenge came in 1519 at the University of Leipzig. Here, he faced-off against Johannes von Eck, a talented rhetorician, professor, and priest. Eck sort of cornered Luther in the debate, forcing Luther to state things in more extreme terms. In particular, Luther let slip that he thought Scripture reigned supreme over things like church councils and popes. This made Luther sound like another heretic of recent memory named Jan Huss. Huss had been burned at the stake a century before for saying something similar. The University of Leipzig had been founded by Huss’s opponents, so Luther was in dangerous territory in this debate of 1519. 

 Jennifer McNutt:
And there’s a  really interesting story actually about the links between Huss and Luther. Um, people really see a connection between those two figures. And I love to, to talk about a letter that Luther writes where he says, you know, um, at first I thought I wasn’t a hos site, um, because that would mean I was a heretic: And then I read hus and I was like, oh yeah, that’s totally me .

Reading

I have taught and held all the teachings of Jan Huss, but thus far did not know it. Johann Staupitz had taught it in the same unntentional way. In short we are all Hussites  and did not know it. Even Paul and Augustine are in reality Hussites . . .I am so shocked that I do not know what to think when I see such terrible judgements of God over mankind, namely that the most evident evangelical truth was burned in public. . .Woe to this earth. Farewell, Martin Luther. Martin Luther’s Letter To Spalatin, January 1520

John Dickson (Studio)

After Leipzig, Luther was sure his beliefs would get him killed. So, he went for it!! In the next two years, he wrote like a madman, producing tracts and essays that were disseminated far and wide—thanks to the recent invention of the printing press. In a tract titled To The Christian Nobility of the German Nation, Luther attacked the corruptions of the church and the abuses of its authority, going so far as to call the selling of indulgences a teaching of the devil. He even cast the pope as the Antichrist. 

Reading

“Above all, we should drive out of German territory the papal legates with their faculties, which they sell to us for large sums of money. This traffic is nothing but skullduggery … They assert that the pope has authority to do this. It is the devil who tells them to say these things. They sell us doctrine so satanic, and take money for it, that they are teaching us sin and leading us to hell. If there were no other base trickery to prove that the pope is the true Antichrist, this one would be enough to prove it. Hear this, O pope, not of all men the holiest but of all men the most sinful! O that God from heaven would soon destroy your throne and sink it in the abyss of hell!” 

John Dickson (Studio)

Subtle, right!! Luther’s reasoning was that it was better to annoy humans than God. He wrote: 

Reading

“I would rather have the wrath of the world upon me than the wrath of God. The world can do no more to me than take my life.” 

John Dickson (Studio)

Luther’s tract to the Christian Nobility sold out almost instantly. Thousands and thousands of copies circulated throughout Germany. By the end of 1520, Pope Leo issued a bull threatening excommunication if Luther did not recant within 60 days. So, Luther wrote two more tracts, of course, and he burned the papal bull in protest. On January 3, 1521, the Pope issued a final bull declaring Luther a heretic and excommunicating him from the Church. Luther was well protected in Germany – his writings gained him many allies, including Frederick III of Saxony, one of the most powerful territorial princes of the so-called Holy Roman Empire. Frederick had already prevented Luther from being arrested and taken to Rome to answer for his views. But even Frederick couldn’t protect Luther when the Holy Roman Emperor himself (Charles V) summoned Luther to appear before him in a ‘diet’ (a formal disputation) in the city of Worms (Germany). We’re off to the famous showdown at the Diet of Worms … after the break. 

Media – Luther

John Dickson (Studio)

That’s a clip from another film about Luther, also called Luther, this time from 1974. It was directed by Guy Greene and starred the Shakespearean actor Stacy Keach as an insecure and arrogant Martin Luther (it also starred Dame Judi Dench, who played Luther’s wife). It’s a strange film that chose to focus on the inner psychological turmoil of Luther. Classic 1970s introspection, I suppose. It’ll never happen, but the story of Luther and the Reformation deserves a major blockbuster kind of film. These events shaped our world to this day, but people hardly know about them. Anyway, in this particular scene Luther has been summoned by Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor, to appear before an imperial ‘Diet’. A Diet was the deliberative body of the Holy Roman Empire, convened by the Emperor and populated by the princes of the empire who were the rulers of the empire’s various territories. It’s like a parliament or Congress, I guess.  Luther’s words “Here I stand, I can do no other” are famous, but, sadly, we don’t know if he ever said them. I’ll let Jennifer take it from here.

 John Dickson:
Okay. This comes to a head at the diet of Worms. I, I wanted to say a diet of worms, but , I mean, that’s an old joke. Tell us what happened in 1521 at this famous, you know, shindig?

Jennifer McNutt:
Well, okay, so before that, so hard to not. To talk about before. What happens for Luther is he is protected by his prince, and that is means that there’s some negotiations that allow him to not have to go to Rome. And there, you know, he would face certain death if he  had gone to Rome. So Frederick works it out so that he can go to Worms. He goes before Charles the fifth, the Holy Roman emperor, who is a new emperor. There  is, there is a hope, there is an expectation or hope that he will get a good hearing at that place. Um, Frederick’s able to negotiate that he have, um, safe travels there and, um, and back. Um, Luther is thinking his life might be like Jan Huss, like. Is not gonna make it out alive from this council. So he, he’s really afraid, right? There’s, there’s so much anxiety in his arrival, he’s asked, you know, to basically give an answer for what he’s written and to revoke what he’s written. And it’s very interesting to see how he responds to that. He responds with nuance and complexity. Um, there’s kind of three levels of his writings and he does actually apologize for some of the vitriol that he, you know. Oh, that’s nice. I think that’s nice. Right. Let’s remember when Luther apologizes.

 John Dickson:
Cause he’s a bit grating to read sometimes. Right,

 Jennifer McNutt:
Exactly. So, um, so there’s that. So it’s unlike Twitter, , yes. . So he, um, yeah. And usually people talk about, you know, him saying like, here I stand, I can do no other. Hmm. I even have a few pairs of stocks that say here I stand from them. Cool. Um, but I think the most important thing that happens there is when he says, my conscience is captive to the word of God. And we know he actually said that. Mm-hmm. Um, when he says that he is creating or a affirming a, a different hierarchy of authority. Mm-hmm. , that will be the crux of what shapes the Protestant tradition. , um, from that point on, now he’s not saying that my conscience gets to do whatever it wants, right? I get him free to just think whatever I wanna think, but it is actually bound to God’s word. Mm-hmm. . And, um, so that is a, a really important new dynamic and I think it matters that then when he leaves the Diet and he is kidnapped unexpectedly by Frederick for his safety and taken to Marburg Castle, um, The thing that he does not knowing if he’s gonna live is translate the Bible, um, translate the German New Testament.

John Dickson (Studio)

Following the Diet of Worms, Charles V sided with Rome, with the Catholic Church.  The church declared Luther a heretic. Charles declared him an ‘outlaw’, on May 25 1521. Under different circumstances, this would have led to Luther’s execution. But politics was at play—of course. Remember Luther’s friend and supporter Frederick III. He was a big deal among the German princes, and the Holy Roman Emperor Charles needed those German princes for geopolitical reasons—the Turkish attacks in the East, the rise of powerful kings in France and England in the West. So, Luther was outlawed but allowed to live. And this allowed Frederick to arrange for Luther to be ‘kidnapped’ and brought back to Saxony. Matthew Barrett calls it “the most amicable kidnapping in history.” For a year, Luther is kept safe in the castle at Wartberg, where he gets busy translating the Bible into the vernacular German and adding some of his own commentary. It was the original ‘study Bible’. When published it was hugely popular. And many would say that the Luther Bible had the impact on the German language that Shakespeare had on the English language.  

John Dickson:
So  Yeah. Okay. So how did these reformation ideas spread so  quickly? It, it is, you know, a miraculous sort of social movement. If nothing else. It’s incredible. I mean, half of Europe adopts these ideas. Yes,

Jennifer McNutt:
Well, I mean, it’s the printing press . Mm-hmm. . There is this technological revolution that is taking. that is actually very closely tied to Luther and how Luther uses the printing press, how he adapts the printing press to, um, spread these ideas. Um, he is really seen as innovative in the use of that tool. Um, the printing press of course, was, uh, created in the 1450s, um, in Europe. And, but it, it just hasn’t reached its potential, um, until you know, until really Luther comes in. And part of that is the, the medium that they use, they move away from like mimicking manuscripts to. , um, something called the Flug Tren, which is a pamphlet. Um, so printing these pamphlets that are, that are cheap and easy to print and very accessible and easy to throw away or pass around. And, um, that’s, that’s really the reason, you know, is that these get passed around. Then I think the other part of this is the language that’s being used because the majority of what Luther publishes is in German, in the German language, and. , you know, the majority of what is printed in this time is what Luther has written. Hmm. So there’s a lot of that. Accessibility is, is hugely  important in terms of the medium. And, and then in terms of the language, do the

John Dickson (Studio)

Historian and friend of the podcast Tom Holland once likened the beginnings of the Reformation to “a Twitter spat that got out of hand”. Anachronistic as it is, it’s not far off. Luther’s writings went viral, powered by the printing press. In a fascinating book called Brand Luther, British historian Andrew Pettegree writes “Luther and his friends used every instrument of communication known to mediaeval and Renaissance Europe: correspondence, song, word of mouth, painted and printed images.” But it was Luther’s words that had the greatest impact. “In an age that valued prolonged and detailed exposition, complexity, and repetition,” writes Pettegree, “it was astonishing that Luther should have instinctively discerned the value of brevity. Luther in effect invented a new form of theological writing: short, clear, and direct, speaking not only to his professional peers but to the wider Christian people.” And Wittenberg became a powerhouse of the new printing industry. Between 1502 and 1516, five successive printers published a total of 123 books, an average of 8 a year, all in Latin. Between 1517 and 1546, Wittenberg publishers turned out at least 2,721 works, an average of 91 per year – for a total of about three million individual copies of books, including multiple editions of Luther’s German Bible. Astonishingly, one in three of all the books published during these three decades were Luther’s own works. And the next 20 per cent were the books by his colleagues and followers. Think of that: half of all books published in the region in this period were from one stable of writers. This was a remarkable transformation, a remarkable time. But … Not everyone was cheering along, of course. Obviously, Catholic authorities and intellectuals fought back, with great gusto. And Luther clashed with some of his own best allies, and pretty soon there were new, ‘more reformed’ reformers. And, I’m sad to say, Luther reserved some of his most disgusting vitriol not for Catholics, not for the reformers who disagreed with him, but for the Jews of Germany. There’s much more to tell about the glorious insights of the Protestant Reformation. And there’s also some soul-searching to do for proud Protestants (like your host). Join us for Part 2, where you’ll hear Dickson at his most historically and theologically conflicted. See ya …

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