The Spark

This may have never happened…and if it did, it wasn’t like this.

Rebel in the Ranks: Martin Luther, the Reformation, and the Conflicts That Continue to Shape Our World, by Brad S. Gregory

Gregory’s book can be considered in two parts: first, the history; second, the ramifications that extend even to us today.  I thought I would knock out the history in one or two posts.  Well, this is my fourth post on the book, and I am still in the opening pages of the first chapter.  In this section, Luther goes public.

In September 1517, a one-page broadsheet was printed: Luther’s A Disputation against Scholastic Theology.  In this broadsheet, Luther – a humanist – lists the specific propositions to be argued over; a central practice of scholasticism!  This, in order to criticize scholasticism itself!

He condemns theologians’ reliance on Aristotelian categories.  “No one can become a theologian,” Luther argues, “unless he becomes one without Aristotle.”  Indeed, “the whole Aristotle is to theology as darkness is to light.”

This conforms to Luther’s study of scripture and his love for certain passages of Augustine.  In Luther’s view, no matter how hard you try you cannot improve yourself on your own.  This runs contrary to Aristotle and his views on form, matter, and cause.

While provocative, Luther’s comments are not unheard of.  He isn’t the first humanist to challenge the scholastics – Erasmus was a far more well-known humanist of the time, yet no revolution followed him.  Luther’s own senior colleague at Wittenberg, Andreas Bodenstein, published against scholastic theology just a few months earlier.  Luther concludes his argument with a statement that he does not believe that he has said anything not in agreement with the Catholic Church.

In any case, Luther remains invisible.  He follows up with some writing about indulgences – not fully against the practice, but only that this practice has been sometimes abused. 

Two years earlier, Pope Leo X proclaimed an indulgence to help build St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome – to make a long story short, the Pope trades a dispensation to Albrecht (for holding multiple offices) in exchange for a large payment.

Frederick of Saxony, Luther’s princely protector, is concerned that this payment will drain money from his lands – and why should this go for Rome?  Luther writes to Albrecht – withdraw your indulgence pamphlet, for the sake of your own reputation.  In the same letter, Luther invites Albrecht to examine a series of propositions: his Ninety-Five Theses.

It is known with certainty that Luther sent his propositions to Albrecht.  It is not known with certainty if Luther nailed these to the door of Frederick’s castle church.  But even if he did, this was not as dramatic or defiant a step as is often portrayed.  Posting theses for academic debate on church doors was commonplace – somewhat like a professor posting an announcement on the faculty bulletin board.

A Bolt of Lightning

Terrified by a bolt of lightning and roaring thunder that threw him to the ground, he reacted in characteristic medieval fashion: he made a vow to a saint, in this case St. Anne, the mother of the Virgin Mary.  Luther promised St. Anne that if she preserved him in the thunderstorm, he would enter religious life.

Thus Luther left his study of law only a few short weeks after he began.  He kept his vow and was later ordained a priest, in 1507.

Rebel in the Ranks: Martin Luther, the Reformation, and the Conflicts That Continue to Shape Our World, by Brad S. Gregory

The opening chapter is entitled “The Reluctant Rebel.” Gregory describes Luther as an “Augustinian friar solemnly devoted to God.”  He toils in Wittenberg, an “obscure German town.”  He is anxious, but keeps his anxieties mostly to himself.  When he does express hints of frustration, these revolve around his tremendous workload – a workload that keeps him too often from prayers and Mass.  He does have time to chant the Psalms – all 150 of these every two weeks, cycling through them again and again.

This is Luther, just months before writing his Ninety-Five Theses.  He certainly doesn’t strike an image of a revolutionary or firebrand.  This is even after his visit to Rome – several years earlier – where he was dismayed to find others whose dedication was less serious than his own.

Luther had a political benefactor – Prince Frederick.  Frederick wanted a university of his own, in Wittenberg.  Luther would come to work at the university.  In the coming years, this relationship with Frederick will demonstrate the benefits of a decentralized political order as it existed during the medieval period; it is also likely true that this relationship with Frederick is what allowed the initial spark of Luther’s actions to turn into a movement that would shake Christendom.  But this is a story for a later post.

Luther was trained a scholastic – as had been the case for theological scholars for centuries.  Yet, new light had come by this time to Europe, and this light also affected Luther and others in the Church:

…Luther uses yet another method for approaching the Bible in his lectures: Renaissance humanism.

I think this distinction of scholasticism and humanism is worth a brief detour:

Scholasticism is a method of critical thought which dominated teaching by the academics ("scholastics", or "schoolmen") of medieval universities in Europe from about 1100 to 1700, and a program of employing that method in articulating and defending dogma in an increasingly pluralistic context.

Scholasticism is not so much a philosophy or a theology as a method of learning, as it places a strong emphasis on dialectical reasoning to extend knowledge by inference and to resolve contradictions.

Renaissance humanism is the study of classical antiquity, at first in Italy and then spreading across Western Europe in the 14th, 15th, and 16th centuries. The term humanism is contemporary to that period, while Renaissance humanism is a retronym used to distinguish it from later humanist developments.

Renaissance humanism was a response to the utilitarian approach and what came to be depicted as the "narrow pedantry" associated with medieval scholasticism. Humanists sought to create a citizenry able to speak and write with eloquence and clarity and thus capable of engaging in the civic life of their communities and persuading others to virtuous and prudent actions. This was to be accomplished through the study of the studia humanitatis, today known as the humanities: grammar, rhetoric, history, poetry, and moral philosophy.

This was not – at least at the time – an either / or project.  There are entries for Lutheran scholasticism and Calvinist scholasticism to be found.  The following offers a clear and simple explanation of the primary difference – or at least the difference that had the most significant impact on philosophy and theology in separating the pre-modern period from the modern period.  Please forgive the long cite, but I don’t know how to reduce it and have it hold its meaning:

Humanism and scholasticism differ perhaps most distinctively in their views of the supernatural. Scholasticism was a method of study that existed for a handful of centuries and always included a faith in the supernatural; specifically, it was promoted and taught by Christian (Catholic) church fathers. In scholasticism, faith in spiritual things was an intrinsic understanding, and a large portion of study focused on theological works and their significance. Humanism, on the other hand, rejects the supernatural as a basis for study and work; instead, it places the emphasis on human reasoning and human achievement; students of humanism (whether Renaissance or modern humanism) do not study the supernatural or use it as a launch pad for discussion and teaching; instead, they study human works and ways of thinking, and they use the natural -- specifically, the human -- as the reference point for their conclusions.

Now…this is all pretty new to me, so if someone has a better view on the distinction and a concise source, I am open to this.

Rebel With a Cause

Rebel in the Ranks: Martin Luther, the Reformation, and the Conflicts That Continue to Shape Our World, by Brad S. Gregory

I don’t plan on beginning each post on this book with a reminder, but I will for at least this one: if you haven’t read – or don’t recall – this post, please do so now before going any further.

In his introduction, Gregory offers a broad sweep of what he intends to cover in the book regarding the Reformation – the context of the time, the effect it had on Europe both at the time and continuing throughout the West to this day.  He offers that the ends were not intended by the means:

Much of the Reformation’s influence remains indirect and unintended…. Protestant reformers five centuries ago were not heralds of modern individual freedom and autonomy.  Neither did they envision modern democratic states or advocate for consumer capitalism.  They did not support modern religious toleration or champion the modern separation of church and state.

Yet none of these can be understood without dealing with the Reformation.

Martin Luther would be horrified by most of the long-run outcomes of the Reformation, as would John Calvin….

In their view were what they considered to be terrible problems in the Church – and a desire to make people better Christians. 

In their time, most Europeans lived in small villages; Paris was the largest European city, with 200,000 inhabitants, London had 60,000, and Cologne – the largest city in the vast expanse of central Europe – perhaps 40,000.  Most buildings were made of wood and subject to fire.  The average life expectancy was in the low 30-years-of-age.  When the sun went down, it was dark.  In a world without professional police forces, walls were guarded night and day.

Religion was more than religion – it was not separate from the rest of life.  Other than Jews, it was taken for granted in Europe that one would identify as Christian – and a universal Christian at that.  This would influence every aspect of life – from business to recreation.  Baptism was a given, normally days after birth – given the risks to life on earth for the newborn, this was necessary in order to ensure entry to heaven.

Baptism also opened the door to the parish church and community – the parish and community being hardly distinguishable.  Europe was made up of tens-of-thousands of parishes – from Scandinavia to the tips if the Iberian and Italian peninsulas.  The parishes would be organized into dioceses.

Local experience of the Church meant participation in a web of social relationships of family, kin, and neighbors linked by customs, rituals, and worship led by a priest. …Social relationships and gender expectations were inseparable from Christian norms.  And both public and private morality were conceived in Christian terms.

To the modern ear, it all sounds stifling.  Yet, I suspect much of what passes for modern life would seem stifling to the man from this medieval period; I need not list the ways, I think.

Religion informed both politics and law.  Far from being aloof from the buying and selling of goods, Christian ethical teachings shaped economic transactions and restrained greed.  Education – from the small town to any of the sixty or so universities – was imbued with Christian ideas.

This does not imply that everyone, or even very many people, behaved like saints.  Far from it.

And this was one of the concerns in the sights of the Reformers, though not the main concern and certainly not a new concern.  This concern had been an issue for centuries – to include the sinful lives of many of the clerical leaders. 

Yet this, for Luther, was a symptom and not the root of the problem.  Luther had in his sights the teachings.  Fidelity to the Scripture – as he saw it – was necessary for eternal salvation; hence this was the major concern for Luther.

So much for the environment of the time; what of the long-term impact?

The Reformation had the long-term impact of gradually and unintentionally transforming Europe from a world permeated by Christianity to one in which religion would be separate from public life, becoming a matter of individual preference.

Gregory refers to this separation as secularization – and multiple areas of life became secularized due to the intractable problem that the Reformation inadvertently made of and for Christianity.  Unlike many of the past attempts at reform – being aimed at the problem of Christians not living up to the teaching – the reforms proposed by Luther and others were aimed directly at the teachings themselves; false teachings, as far as the reformers were concerned.

The Protestants (as they would be later called) condemned the Church’s teaching, and the Church condemned the Protestants as heretics.  I would suggest that each side saw the other as wrong – if not satanic – except that there was more than two of “each sides.”  Once teaching was freed from the Church, it became free for any to teach.