Luther's teaching on the forgiveness of sin is sternly rebuked by
Catholic writers because of its immoral tendencies. They say, when the
forgiveness of sins is made as easy as Luther makes it, the people will
cease being afraid if sinning.
The danger of the Gospel of the gracious forgiveness of sins being
misapplied has always existed in the Church. Every student of church
history knows this. Catholic writers know this. Paul wrestled with this
practical perversion of the loving intentions of our heavenly Father in
his day. After declaring to the Romans: "Where sin abounded, grace did
much more abound," he raises the question: "What shall we say then?
Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound?" He returns this
horrified answer: "God forbid! How shall we, that are dead to sin, live
any longer therein?" (Rom. 5, 20-6, 2.) Actually there were people in
the apostle's days who drew from his evangelical teaching this
pernicious inference, that by sinning they gave the forgiving grace of
God a larger opportunity to exert itself, hence, that they were
glorifying grace by committing more sin. This meant putting a premium on
sinning. For God's sake, how can you conceive a thought like that? the
apostle exclaims. He repudiates the idea as blasphemous, which it is. To
sin in the assurance that sin will be forgiven is not honoring, but
dishonoring God and His grace; it is not exalting, but traducing faith;
it is not Christian, but devilish. Summarizing the contents of Romans,
chapter 5, Luther says: "In the fifth chapter Paul comes to speak of the
fruits and works of faith, such as peace, joy, love of God and all men,
and in addition to these, security, boldness, cheerfulness, courage and
hope amid tribulations and suffering. All these effects follow where
there is genuine faith, because of the superabundant blessing which God
has conferred upon us in Christ by causing Him to die for us before we
could pray that He might do this, yea, while we were yet His enemies.
Accordingly, we conclude that faith justifies without works of any kind,
and yet it does not follow that we must not do any good works. Genuine
good works cannot fail to flow from faith,--works of which the
self-righteous know nothing, and in the place of which they invent their
own works, in which there is neither peace, joy, security, love, hope,
boldness, nor any other of the characteristics of a genuine Christian
work and faith." In his Preface to Romans, Luther meets a somewhat
different objection to faith: Christians, after they have begun to
believe, still discover sin in themselves, and on account of this
imagine that faith alone cannot save them. There must be something done
in addition to believing to insure their salvation. In replying to this
scruple, Luther has given a classical description of the quality and
power of faith. This description serves to blast the Catholic charge
that Luther's easy way of justifying the sinner leads to increased
sinning. Luther says: "Faith is not the human notion and dream which
some regard as faith. When they observe that no improvement of life nor
any good works flow from faith even where people hear and talk much
about faith, they fall into this error that they declare: faith is not
sufficient, you must do works if you wish to become godly and be saved.
The reason is, these people, when they hear the Gospel, hurriedly
formulate by their own powers a thought in their heart which asserts: I
believe. This thought they regard as genuine faith. However, as their
faith is but a human figment and idea that never reaches the bottom of
the heart, it is inert and effects no improvement. Genuine faith,
however, is a divine work in us by which we are changed and born anew of
God. (John 1, 13.) It slays the old Adam, and makes us entirely new men
in our heart, mind, ideas, and all our powers. It brings us the Holy
Spirit. Oh, this faith is a lively, active, busy, mighty thing! It is
impossible for faith not to be active without ceasing. Faith does not
ask whether good works are to be done, but before the question has been
asked, it has accomplished good works; yea, it is always engaged in
doing good works. Whoever does not do such good works is void of faith;
he gropes and mopes about, looking for faith and good works, but knows
neither what faith nor what good works are, though he may prate and
babble ever so much about faith and good works."
There has never been a time when the Gospel and the grace of God have
not been wrested to wicked purposes by insincere men, hypocrites, and
bold spirits. For this reason God has instructed Christians: "Give not
that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before
swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend
you." (Matt. 7, 6.) The danger of misapplied grace is a present-day
danger in every evangelical community. Earnest Christian ministers and
laymen strive with this misapplication wherever they discover it. Can
they do any more?
Rome will say: Why do you not do as we do in our Church? We do not
preach the Gospel in such a reckless fashion, we make men work for their
salvation. Rome would abolish or considerably limit the preaching of
free and abundant grace to the sinner. We recoil from this suggestion
because it makes the entire work of Christ of none effect, and wipes out
the grandest portions of our Bible. If every abuse of something that is
good must be stopped by abolishing the proper use, then let us give up
eating because some make gluttons of themselves; drinking, because some
are drunkards; wearing clothes, because there is much vanity in dresses;
marriage, because some marriages are shamefully conducted, etc., etc.
The Roman Church does not operate on evangelical principles. Does it
succeed better in cultivating true holiness among its members by its
system of penances and its teaching of the meritoriousness of men's acts
of piety? Catholics say to us sneeringly: It is easy to have faith; it
is very convenient, when you wish to indulge, or have indulged, some
passion, to remember that there is grace for forgiveness. But is any
great difficulty connected with going through a penance that the priest
has imposed, buying a wax candle, reciting sixteen Paternosters and ten
Ave Marias, and then sitting down and saying to yourself: "Good boy!
you've done it, you have squared your account again with the Almighty"?
What sanctifying virtue lies in abstaining from beefsteak on Friday?
Rome nowhere has improved men by her mechanical piety. What she has
accomplished was made possible by the fear of purgatorial torments, by
slavish dread of her mysterious powers, by ambition and bigotry. We
would not exchange our abused treasures for her system of workmongery.
But the Catholic charge of tendencies to lawlessness that are said to be
contained in. Luther's teaching of faith without works are more serious.
Luther is cited by them as declaring that one may commit innumerable
sins, and they will not harm one as long as one keeps on believing in
the grace of forgiveness. It is true, Luther has spoken words to this
effect, and that, on quite a number of occasions. Worse
than that, what Luther has said is actually true. As a matter of fact,
no sin can deprive the believer of salvation. There is only one sin that
ultimately damns, final impenitence and unbelief, by which is understood
the rejection of the atonement which Christ offered for the sins of the
world. That atonement is actually the full satisfaction rendered to our
Judge for all the sins which we have done, are doing, and will be doing
till the end of our lives. For the person that dies a perfect saint,
sinless and impeccable, is still to be born. The comfort that I derive
from my Redeemer to-day will be my comfort to-morrow, that will be my
only prop and stay in my dying hour. I shall need Him every hour. This
is a perfectly Christian thought. St. John writes: "My little children,
these things write I unto you that ye sin not. And if any man sin,"--
mark this well: "If any man sin," though he ought not to sin,--what does
the apostle say to him? He does not say: Then you are damned! or: It
will require so many fasts, masses, and candles to restore you! but this
is what he says: "If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father,
Jesus Christ the Righteous; and He is the propitiation for our sins, and
not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world." (1 John
2, 1. 2.) John, then, must be included in the Catholic indictment of
Luther. Luther would not have been a preacher of the genuine and full
Gospel if he had not declared the impossibility of any sin or any number
of sins depriving a believer of salvation.
But if the Catholics mean to say that Luther's evangelical declaration
means that no believer can fall from grace by sinning, that he may sin
and remain in a state of grace,--that is simply slander. Luther holds,
indeed, that a person does not cease to be a Christian by every slip and
fault, but he insists that no dereliction of duty, no deviation from the
rule of godly living can be treated with indifference. It must be
repented of, God's forgiveness must be sought, and only in this way will
the Holy Spirit again be bestowed on the sinner. God may bear awhile
with a Christian who has fallen into sin, but the backslider has no
pleasant time with his God while he stays a backslider. This being a
question of every-day, practical Christianity, Luther frequently touches
this subject in his sermons, both in the Church Postil, the House
Postil, and in his occasional sermons. Luther's Catholic critics could
disabuse their mind about the tendencies to lawlessness in Luther's
teaching if they would look up references such as these: 9, 730. 1456
f.; 11, 1790; 12, 448. 433; 13, 394; 6, 294. 1604. In one of these
references (9, 1456) Luther comments on 1 John 3, 6: "Whosoever abideth
in Him sinneth not; whosoever sinneth hath not seen Him, neither known
Him," as follows: "'Seeing' and 'knowing' in the phraseology of John is
as much as believing. `That every one which seeth the Son, and believeth
on Him, may have everlasting life' (John 6, 40). 'This is life eternal,
that they might know Thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom Thou
hast sent.' Accordingly, he that sins does not believe in Him; for faith
and sin cannot coexist. We may fall, but we may not cling to sin. The
kingdom of Christ is a kingdom of righteousness, not of sin." In the
Smalcald Articles Luther says: "But if certain sectarists would arise,
some of whom are perhaps already present, and in the time of the
insurrection of the peasants came to my view, holding that all those who
have once received the Spirit or the forgiveness of sins, or have become
believers, even though they would afterwards sin, would still remain in
the faith, and sin would not injure them, and cry thus: 'Do whatever you
please; if you believe, it is all nothing; faith blots out all sins,'
etc. They say, besides, that if any one sins after he has received faith
and the Spirit, he never truly had the Spirit and faith. I have seen and
heard of many men so insane, and I fear that such a devil is still
remaining in some. If, therefore, I say, such persons would hereafter
also arise, it is necessary to know and teach that if saints who still
have and feel original sin, and also daily repent and strive with it,
fall in some way into manifest sins, as David into adultery, murder, and
blasphemy, they cast out faith and the Holy Ghost. For the Holy Ghost
does not permit sin to have dominion, to gain the upper hand so as to be
completed, but represses and restrains it so that it must not do what it
wishes. But if it do what it wishes, the Holy Ghost and faith are not
there present. For St. John says (1. Ep. 3, 9): 'Whosoever is born of
God doth not commit sin, . . . and he cannot sin.' And yet that is also
the truth which the same St. John says (1. Ep. 1, 8): 'If we say that we
have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.'" (Part
III, Art. 3, §§ 42-45; p. 329.) The Lutheran Church has received this
statement of Luther into her confessional writings. This is the Luther
of whom a modern Catholic critic says: "This thought of the
all-forgiving nature of faith so dominated his mind that it excluded the
notion of contrition, penance, good works, or effort on the part of the
believer, and thus his teaching destroyed root and branch the whole idea
of human culpability and responsibility for the breaking of the
Commandments."
It is amazing boldness in Catholics to prefer this charge against
Luther, when they themselves teach a worse doctrine than they impute to
Luther. The Council of Trent in its Sixth Session, Canon 15, also in its
Sixteenth Session, Canon 15, Coster in his Enchiridion, in the chapter
on Faith, p. 178, Bellarminus on Justification, chapter 15, declare it
to be Catholic teaching that the believer cannot lose his faith by any,
even the worst, sin he may commit. They speak of believing fornicators,
believing adulterers, believing thieves, believing misers, believing
drunkards, believing slanderers, etc. The very teaching which Catholics
falsely ascribe to Luther is an accepted dogma of their own Church.
Their charge against Luther is, at best, the trick of crying, "Hold
thief!" to divert attention from themselves.
But did not Luther in the plainest terms advise his friends Weller and
Melanchthon to practise immoralities as a means for overcoming their
despondency? Is he not reported in his Table Talk to have said that
looking at a pretty woman or taking a hearty drink would dispel gloomy
thoughts? that one should sin to spite the devil? Yes; and now that
these matters are paraded in public, it is best that the public be given
a complete account of what Luther wrote to Weller and Melanchthon. There
are three letters extant written to Weller during Luther's exile at
Castle Coburg while the Diet of Augsburg was in progress. On June 19,
1530, Luther writes: "Grace and peace in Christ! I have received two
letters from you, my dear Jerome [this was Weller's first name], both of
which truly delighted me; the second, however, was more than delightful
because in that you write concerning my son Johnny, stating that you are
his teacher, and that he is an active and diligent pupil. If I could, I
would like to show you some favor in return; Christ will recompense you
for what I am too little able to do. Magister Veit has, moreover,
informed me that you are at times afflicted with the spirit of
despondency. This affliction is most harmful to young people, as
Scripture says: 'A broken spirit drieth the bones' (Prov. 17, 22). The
Holy Spirit everywhere forbids such melancholy, as, for instance, in
Eccles. 11., 9: 'Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart
cheer thee in the days of thy youth,' and in the verse immediately
following: 'Remove sorrow from thy heart, and put away evil from thy
flesh.' Ecclesiasticus, likewise, says, chap. 30, 22-25: 'The gladness
of the heart is the life of man, and the joyfulness of a man prolongeth
his days. Love thine own soul, and comfort thy heart, remove sorrow far
from the; for sorrow hath killed many, and there is no profit therein.
Envy and wrath shorten the life, and carefulness bringeth age before the
time. A cheerful and good heart will have a care of his meat and diet.'
Moreover, Paul says 2 Cor. 7, 10: 'The sorrow of the world worketh
death.' Above all, therefore, you must firmly cling to this thought,
that these evil and melancholy thoughts are not of God, but of the
devil; for God is not a God of melancholy, but a God of comfort and
gladness, as Christ Himself says: 'God is not the God of the dead, but
of the living' (Matt. 22, 32). What else does living mean than to be
glad in the Lord? Accordingly, become used to different thoughts, in
order to drive away these evil thoughts, and say: The Lord has not sent
you. This chiding which you experience is not of Him who has called you.
In the beginning the struggle is grievous, but by practise it becomes
more easy. You are not the only one who has to endure such thoughts, all
the saints were afflicted by them, but they fought against them and
conquered. Therefore, do not yield to these evils, but meet them
bravely. The greatest task in this struggle is not to regard these
thoughts, not to explore them, not to pursue the matters suggested, but
despise them like the hissing of a goose and pass them by. The person
that has learned to do this will conquer; whoever has not learned it
will be conquered. For to muse upon these thoughts and debate with them
means to stimulate them and make them stronger. Take the people of
Israel as an example: they overcame the serpents, not by looking at them
and wrestling with them, but by turning their eyes away from them and
looking in a different direction, namely, at the brazen serpent, and
they conquered. In this struggle that is the right and sure way of
winning the victory. A person afflicted with such thoughts said to a
certain wise man: What evil thoughts come into my mind! He received the
answer: Well, let them pass out again. That remark taught the person a
fine lesson. Another answered the same question thus: You cannot keep
the birds from flying over your head, but you can keep them from
building their nests in your hair. Accordingly, you will do the correct
thing when you are merry and engage in some pleasant pastime with some
one, and not scruple afterwards over having done so. For God is not
pleased with sadness, for which there is no reason. The sorrow over our
sins is brief and at the same time is made pleasant to us by the promise
of grace and the forgiveness of sins. But the other sorrow is of the
devil and without promise; it is sheer worry over useless and impossible
things which concern God. I shall have more to say to you when I return.
Meanwhile give my greetings to your brother; I began writing to him, but
the messenger who is to take this letter along is in a hurry. I shall
write to him later, also to Schneidewein and others. I commend your
pupil to you. May the Spirit of Christ comfort and gladden your heart!
Amen.' (21a, 1487 ff.)
The second letter to Weller was presumably written some time in July. It
reads as follows: "Grace and peace in Christ. My dearest Jerome, you
must firmly believe that your affliction is of the devil, and that you
are plagued in this manner because you believe in Christ. For you see
that the most wrathful enemies of the Gospel, as, for instance, Eck,
Zwingli, and others, are suffered to be at ease and happy. All of us who
are Christians must have the devil for our adversary and enemy, as Peter
says: 'Your adversary, the devil, goeth about,' etc., 1 Pet. 5, 8.
Dearest Jerome, you must rejoice over these onslaughts of the devil,
because they are a sure sign that you have a gracious and merciful God.
You will say: This affliction is more grievous than I can bear; you fear
that you will be overcome and vanquished, so that you are driven to
blasphemy and despair. I know these tricks of Satan: if he cannot
overcome the person whom he afflicts at the first onset, he seeks to
exhaust and weaken him by incessantly attacking him, in order that the
person may succumb and acknowledge himself beaten. Accordingly, whenever
this affliction befalls you, beware lest you enter into an argument with
the devil, or muse upon these death-dealing thoughts. For this means
nothing else than to yield to the devil and succumb to him. You must
rather take pains to treat these thoughts which the devil instils in you
with the severest contempt. In afflictions and conflicts of this kind
contempt is the best and easiest way for overcoming the devil. Make up
your mind to laugh at your adversary, and find some one whom you can
engage in a conversation. You must by all means avoid being alone, for
then the devil will make his strongest effort to catch you; he lies in
wait for you when you are alone. In a case like this the devil is
overcome by scorning and despising him, not by opposing him and arguing
with him. My dear Jerome, you must engage in merry talk and games with
my wife and the rest, so as to defeat these devilish thoughts, and you
must be intent on being cheerful. This affliction is more necessary to
you than food and drink. I shall relate to you what happened to me when
I was about your age. When I entered the cloister, it happened that at
first I always walked about sad and melancholy, and could not shake off
my sadness. Accordingly, I sought counsel and confessed to Dr. Staupitz,
--I am glad to mention this man's name. I opened my heart to him,
telling him with what horrid and terrible thoughts I was being visited.
He said in reply: Martin, you do not know how useful and necessary this
affliction is to you; for God does not exercise you thus without a
purpose. You will see that He will employ you as His servant to
accomplish great things by you. This came true. For I became a great
doctor--I may justly say this of myself--; but at the time when I was
suffering these afflictions I would never have believed that this could
come to pass. No doubt, that is what is going to happen to you: you will
become a great man. In the mean time be careful to keep a brave and
stout heart, and impress on your mind this thought that such remarks
which fall from the lips chiefly of learned and great men contain a
prediction and prophecy. I remember well how a certain party whom I was
comforting for the loss of his son said to me: Martin, you will see, you
will become a great man. I often remembered this remark, for, as I said,
such remarks contain a prediction and a prophecy. Therefore, be cheerful
and brave, and cast these exceedingly terrifying thoughts entirely from
you. Whenever the devil worries you with these thoughts, seek the
company of men at once, or drink somewhat more liberally, jest and play
some jolly prank, or do anything exhilarating. Occasionally a person
must drink somewhat more liberally, engage in plays, and jests, or even
commit some little sin from hatred and contempt of the devil, so as to
leave him no room for raising scruples in our conscience about the most
trifling matters. For when we are overanxious and careful for fear that
we may be doing wrong in any matter, we shall be conquered. Accordingly,
if the devil should say to you: By all means, do not drink! you must
tell him: Just because you forbid it, I shall drink, and that,
liberally. In this manner you must always do the contrary of what Satan
forbids. When I drink my wine unmixed, prattle with the greatest
unconcern, eat more frequently, do you think that I have any other
reason for doing these things than to scorn and spite the devil who has
attempted to spite and scorn me? Would God I could commit some real
brave sin to ridicule the devil, that he might see that I acknowledge no
sin and am not conscious of having committed any. We must put the whole
law entirely out of our eyes and hearts,--we, I say, whom the devil thus
assails and torments. Whenever the devil charges us with our sins and
pronounces us guilty of death and hell, we ought to say to him: I admit
that I deserve death and hell; what, then, will happen to me? Why, you
will be eternally damned! By no means; for I know One who has suffered
and made satisfaction for me. His name is Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
Where He abides, there will I also abide." (21a, 1532 ff.)
The third letter to Weller is dated August 15th. It reads as follows:
"Grace and peace in Christ. I have forgotten, my dear Jerome, what I
wrote you in my former letter concerning the spirit of melancholy, and I
may now be writing you the same things and harping on the same string.
Nevertheless, I shall repeat what I said, because we all share each
other's afflictions, and as I am suffering in your behalf, so you, no
doubt, are suffering in mine. It is one and the same adversary that
hates and persecutes every individual brother of Christ. Moreover, we
are one body, and in this body one member suffers for every other
member, and that, for the sole reason that we worship Christ. Thus it
happens that one is forced to bear the other's burden. See, then, that
you learn to despise your adversary. For you have not sufficiently
learned to understand this spirit, who is an enemy to spiritual
gladness. You may rest assured that you are not the only one who bears
this cross and are not suffering alone. We are all bearing it with you
and are suffering with you. God, who commanded: 'Thou shalt not kill,'
certainly declares by this commandment that He is opposed to these
melancholy and death-bringing thoughts, and that He, on the contrary,
would have us cherish lively and exceedingly cheerful thoughts. So the
Psalmist declares, saying: 'In His favor is life,' Ps. 30, 5 [Luther
understands this to mean: He favors life] and in Ezekiel God says: 'I
have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn
from his way and live' (chap. 33, 11). On the other hand, etc. Now,
then, since it is certain that such melancholy is displeasing to God, we
have this reliable comfort that if this demon cannot be entirely removed
from us, divine strength will be supplied to us, so that we may not feel
the affliction so much. I know that it is not in our power to remove
these thoughts at our option, but I also know that they shall not gain
the upper hand; for we are told: 'He shall not suffer the righteous to
be moved,' if we only learn to cast our burden upon Him. The Lord Jesus,
the mighty Warrior and unconquerable Victor, will be your aid. Amen."
(21a, 1543 f.)
These three letters constitute the whole evidence for the Catholic
charge against Luther that he offered advice to Weller that is immoral
and demoralizing. The indictment culminates in these three distinct
points: Luther advises Weller 1. to drink freely and be frivolous; 2. to
commit sin to spite the devil; 3. to have no regard for the Ten
Commandments. Since we shall take up the last point in a separate
chapter, we limit our remarks to the first two points.
When Luther advises Weller to drink somewhat more liberally, that does
not mean that Luther advises Weller to get drunk. This, however, is
exactly what Luther is made to say by his Catholic critics. They make no
effort to understand the situation as it confronted Luther, but pounce
upon a remark that can easily be understood to convey an offensive
meaning. Neither does what Luther says about his own drinking mean that
he ever got drunk. We have spoken of this matter in a previous chapter,
and do not wish to repeat. Luther's remarks about jesting, merry plays,
and jolly pranks in which he would have Weller engage are likewise
vitiated by the Catholic insinuation that he advises indecent
frivolities, yea, immoralities. Why, all the merriment which he urges
upon Weller is to take place in Luther's home and family circle, in the
presence of Luther's wife and children, in the presence of Weller's
little pupil Hans, who at that time was about four years old. The
friends of the family members of the Faculty at the University,
ministers, students who either stayed at Luther's home, like Weller, or
frequently visited there, are also included in this circle whose company
Weller is urged to seek. Imagine a young man coming into this circle
drunk, or half drunk, and disporting himself hilariously before the
company! We believe that not even all Catholics can be made to believe
the insinuations of their writers against Luther when all the facts in
the case are presented to them.
Let us, moreover, remind ourselves once more that, to measure the social
proprieties of the sixteenth century by modern standards, is unfair. A
degree of culture in regard to manners and speech can be reached by very
refined people that grows away from naturalness. The old Latin saying:
_Naturalia non sunt turpia_ (We need not feel ashamed of our natural
acts), will never lose its force. There are expressions in Luther's
writings--and in the Bible--that nowadays are considered unchaste, but
are in themselves chaste and pure. Even the extremest naturalness that
speaks with brutal frankness about certain matters is a better criterion
of moral purity than the supersensitive prudishness that squirms and
blushes, or pretends to blush, at the remotest reference to such
matters. It all depends on the thoughts which the heart connects with
the words which the mouth utters. This applies also to the manner in
which former centuries have spoken about drinking. We sometimes begin to
move uneasily, as if something Pecksniffian had come into our presence,
when we behold the twentieth century sitting in judgment on the manners
and morals of the sixteenth century.
In Luther's remarks about sinning to spite the devil we have always
heard an echo from his life at the cloister. One's judgment about the
monastic life is somewhat mitigated when one hears how Dr. Staupitz and
the brethren in the convent at Erfurt would occasionally speak to Luther
about the latter's sins. Staupitz called them "Puppensuenden." It is not
easy to render this term by a short and apt English term; "peccadillo"
would come near the meaning. A child playing with a doll will treat it
as if it were a human being, will dress it, talk to it, and pretend to
receive answers from it, etc. That is the way, good Catholics were
telling Luther, he was treating his sins. His sins were no real sins, or
he had magnified their sinfulness out of all proportion. This same
advice Luther hands on to another who was becoming a hypochondriac as he
had been. When the mind is in a morbid state it imagines faults, errors,
sins, where there are none. The melancholy person in his self-scrutiny
becomes an intolerant tyrant to himself. He will flay his poor soul for
trifles as if they were the blackest crimes: In such moments the devil
is very busy about the victim of gloom and despair. Luther has diagnosed
the case of Weller with the skill of a nervous specialist. He counsels
Weller not to judge himself according to the devil's prompting, and, in
order to break Satan's thrall over him, to wrench himself free from his
false notions of what is sinful. In offering this advice, Luther uses
such expressions as: "Sin, commit sin," but the whole context shows that
he advises Weller to do that which is in itself not sinful, but looks
like sin to Weller in his present condition. When Luther declares he
would like to commit a real brave sin himself as a taunt to the devil,
he adds: "Would that I could!" That means, that, as a matter of fact, he
could not do it and did not do it, because it was wrong. What bold
immoral act did Weller commit in consequence of Luther's advice? What
immoralities are there in Luther's own life? Luther's letters did not
convey the meaning to his morbid young friend that Catholic writers
think and claim they did.
Luther's advice to Melanchthon which is so revolting to Catholics that
they have made it the slogan in their campaign against Luther refers to
a state of affairs that is identical with what we noted in our review of
the correspondence with Weller. It is contained in a letter which Luther
wrote August 1, 1521, while he was an exile in the Wartburg. He says to
his despondent friend and colleague at the University of Wittenberg: "If
you are a preacher of grace, do not preach a fictitious, but the true
grace. If grace is of the true sort, you will also have to bear true,
not fictitious, sins. God does not save those who only acknowledge
themselves sinners in a feigned manner. Be a sinner, then, and sin
bravely, but believe more bravely still and rejoice in Christ, who is
the Victor over sin, death, and the world. We must sin as long as we are
in this world; the present life is not an abode of righteousness;
however, we look for new heavens and a new earth wherein dwelleth
righteousness, says Peter (2. Ep. 3, 13). We are satisfied, by the
richness of God's glory, to have come to the knowledge of the Lamb that
taketh away the sins of the world. No sin shall wrest us from Him, were
we even in one day to commit fornication and manslaughter a thousand
times. Do you think the price paltry and the payment small that has been
made for us by this great Lamb?" (15, 2589.)
"Be a sinner, and sin bravely, but believe more bravely still"--this is
the _chef d'oeuvre_ of the muck-rakers in Luther's life. The reader has
the entire passage which contains the outrageous statement of Luther
before him, and will be able to judge the connection in which the words
occur. What caused Luther to write those words? Did Melanchthon
contemplate some crime which he was too timid to perpetrate? According
to the horrified expressions of Catholics that must have been the
situation. Luther, in their view, says to Melanchthon: Philip, you are a
simpleton. Why scruple about a sin? You are still confined in the
trammels of very narrow-minded moral views. You must get rid of them.
Have the courage to be wicked, Make a hero of yourself by executing some
bold piece of iniquity. Be an "Uebermensch." Sin with brazen unconcern;
be a fornicator, a murderer, a liar, a thief, defy every moral statute,
--only do not forget to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. His grace is
intended, not for hesitating, craven sinners, but for audacious,
spirited, high-minded criminals.
This, we are asked to believe, is the sentiment of the same Luther who
in his correspondence with Weller declares that he could not if he would
commit a brave sin to spite the devil. Can the reader induce himself to
believe that Luther advised Melanchthon to do what he himself knew was a
moral impossibility to himself because of his relation to God? And again
we put the question which we put in connection with the Weller letters:
What brave sin did Melanchthon actually commit upon being thus advised
by Luther?
One glance at the context, a calm reflection upon the tenor of this
entire passage in the letter to Melanchthon, suffices to convince every
unbiased reader that Luther is concerned about Melanchthon as he was
about Weller: he fears his young colleague is becoming a prey to morbid
self-incrimination. It is again a case of "Puppensuenden" being expanded
till they seem ethical monstrosities. But, as the opening words of the
paragraph show, Luther had another purpose in writing to Melanchthon as
he did. Melanchthon was a public preacher and expounder of the doctrine
of evangelical grace. He must not preach that doctrine mincingly,
haltingly. Is that possible? Indeed, it is. Just as there are preachers
afraid to preach the divine Law and to tell men that they are under the
curse of God and merit damnation, so there are preachers afraid,
actually afraid, to preach the full Gospel, without any limiting clauses
and provisos. Just as there are teachers of Christianity who promptly
put on the soft pedal when they reach the critical point in their public
deliverances where they must reprove sin, and who hate intensive
preaching of the Ten Commandments, so there are evangelical teachers who
dole out Gospel grace in dribbles and homeopathic doses, as if it were
the most virulent poison, of which the sinner must not be given too
much. Luther tells Melanchthon: If you are afraid to draw every stop in
the organ when you play the tune of Love Divine, All Love Excelling, you
had better quit the organ. There are some sinners in this world that
will not understand your faint evangelical whispers; they need to have
the truth that Christ forgives their sins, all their sins,--their worst
sins, blown into them with all the trumpets that made the walls of
Jericho fall. If Melanchthon did not require a strong faith in the
forgiving grace of God for himself, he needed it as a teacher of that
grace to others; he must, therefore, familiarize himself with the
immensity and power of that grace.
In conclusion, it should be noted that the Catholic writers who express
their extreme disgust at the immoral principles of Luther belong to a
Church whose theologians have made very questionable distinctions
between venial sins and others. Papal dispensations and decisions of
Catholic casuists, especially in the order of the Jesuits, have startled
the world by their moral perverseness. Yea, the very principles of
probabilism and mental reservation which the Jesuits have espoused are
antiethical. In accordance with the principle last named, "when
important interests are at stake, a negative or modifying clause may
remain unuttered which would completely reverse the statement actually
made. This principle justified unlimited lying when one's interest or
convenience seemed to require it. Where the same word or phrase has
more than one sense, it may be employed in an unusual sense with the
expectation that it will be understood in the usual. [This is called
"amphibology" by them.] Such evasions may be used under oath in a civil
court. Equally destructive of good morals was the teaching of many
Jesuit casuists that moral obligation may be evaded by directing the
intention when committing an immoral act to an end worthy in itself; as
in murder, to the vindication of one's honor; in theft, to the supplying
of one's needs or those of the poor; in fornication or adultery, to the
maintenance of one's health or comfort. Nothing did more to bring upon
the society the fear and distrust of the nations and of individuals than
the justification and recommendation by several of their writers of the
assassination of tyrants, the term 'tyrant' being made to include all
persons in authority who oppose the work of the papal church or order.
The question has been much discussed, Jesuits always taking the negative
side, whether the Jesuits have taught that 'the end justifies the
means.' It may not be possible to find this maxim in these precise words
in Jesuit writings; but that they have always taught that for the
'greater glory of God,' identified by them with the extension of Roman
Catholic (Jesuit) influence, the principles of ordinary morality may be
set aside, seems certain. The doctrine of philosophical sin, in
accordance with which actual attention to the sinfulness of an act when
it is being committed is requisite to its sinfulness for the person
committing it, was widely advocated by members of the society. The
repudiation of some of the most scandalous maxims of Jesuit writers by
later writers, or the placing of books containing scandalous maxims on
the Index, does not relieve the society or the Roman Catholic Church
from responsibility, as such books must have received authoritative
approval before publication, and the censuring of them does not
necessarily involve an adverse attitude toward the teaching itself, but
way be a more measure of expediency." (A. H. Newman, in _New
Schaff-Herzog Encycl.,_ 6, 146.)