Three Anti-Social Doctrines of Luther

by Rev. Joseph Husslein, S.J., Ph.D.

I. — Concerning Good Works

With a rather doubtful enthusiasm Protestants have celebrated this year the quadricentenary of the appearance of Luther before the Diet at Worms. It may rightly be considered as the most eventful incident in Protestant history, marking the first formal rejection on the part of Luther of the traditions and teachings of sixteen centuries of Christianity. It will be interesting, therefore, to study at the present time the New Evangel of Luther from a purely social point of view.

As there are many sides to Luther's character, so in his writings we may naturally expect to find many things, old and new, good and bad, false and true. The good and true can easily be shown to stand in full agreement with the doctrines of the Church he so bitterly and unreasonably opposed. They are the remnants and salvage of his Catholic training. The evil is entirely his own.

Among those of his teachings which, if taken seriously, would be destructive of the entire moral order, and hence productive of the most baneful consequences in social life, I shall here select three doctrines that are most fundamental to his new system. Taken by themselves they would alone suffice to discredit Luther forever in the social no less than in the religious world.

The first anti-social doctrine that at once comes to mind is naturally his teaching concerning good works. "All our works," he said in his characteristic way, "are nothing more than worthless lice in an old unclean fur, since nothing clean can ever be made of it; in brief, since neither skin nor hair are any longer of value" (Erlangen Ed., XX. p. 159). Aside from its error and pessimism this doctrine contained cold encouragement for the Christian man and woman bent on the performance of social deeds which in the end would amount to nothing. Although prompted by the highest supernatural motives and the most burning love for God, they could not in the least, he held, be meritorious for heaven.

But he went further than this and positively discouraged good works, however much he was bound to contradict himself in his own preaching and practice. He taught men to look upon them with serious suspicion and mocked at the hopes that might sustain his own followers in well-doing when the spirit would flag and the flesh grow weak: "Those pious souls," he said, "who do good to gain the Kingdom of Heaven, not only will never succeed, but they must even be reckoned among the impious; and it is more important to guard them against good works than against sin." (Wittenberg Ed., Vol. VI. p. 160.)

Everything, except merely his fiducial trust in Christ, even Divine charity itself, was counted by Luther among "works of the law" in the Old Testament sense. Who then can wonder at the results. In the words of the social historian Feuchtwanger: "The most tangible consequence of Luther's doctrine of grace, which allowed nothing to human merit, was, for the multitude at least, libertinism and irresponsibility." And yet these men in their lives were better than the doctrines taught to them, even as Luther's most redeeming quality was his inconsequence.

The social perniciousness of his doctrine, in fact, went even further than anything hitherto quoted, if that is possible. He thus sets down the conclusion logically derived from his principle given above when he writes: "It is hard to be saved where a good life has not preceded; but it is still more hard for those to be saved who have performed good works." (Opp. Var. Arg. Lat. I. p. 239. Cf. Denifle, "Luther and Luthertum," I. pp. 675, ff, and 700, ff.)

By a strange perversity Luther persisted at the same time in attributing to the Catholic Church that most un-Catholic of doctrines regarding good works, that: "Christ did not die for our sins, but each one should satisfy for them himself." Granted that Luther was certainly not a great theologian, yet it is not possible to plead crass ignorance in extenuation of this dreadful misrepresentation of Catholic doctrine. It is a blunder the smallest Catholic child could hardly make. To strengthen his own untenable position, Luther was apparently willing by a deliberate falsehood to misstate the teachings of the Church.

The Catholic Church indeed insisted upon good works, as we all know, but she made clear as well that without the merits of Christ applied to our souls we could never be saved. "This do and thou shalt live," (Luke X. 28) Christ had taught in reference to the great twofold commandment of love, with all its social implications, that has caused thousands of men and women in every generation to yield up their lives to the service of their neighbor for the love of God. "He that shall do and teach," Christ again had said, "he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven." (Matt. V. 19.) But such words were of no consequence to Luther since they conflicted with his own New Evangel.

The Church did not draw the conclusion from such texts, as Luther deliberately stated, that good works were done to effect our justification and make us Christians. This was but another form in which the same wilful falsehood was persistently repeated by him. He well knew how strongly the Church at all times insisted upon the necessity of faith, and the necessity of the merits of Christ for our salvation. Combining in her teaching the twofold doctrine of Christ, the insistence upon faith and good works, she was able by God's grace to produce such wonderful effects in souls as we witness in the lives of her countless Saints. We need but look for proof upon that glorious galaxy shining forth from amid the spiritual splendors of the Counter-Reformation: an Ignatius, a Teresa, a Francis Xavier, a Vincent de Paul, and the innumerable other lights of varying brilliancy and beauty, appearing together in clusters and constellations.

That the children of the Church neglected faith and performed good works instead, is of course an historical absurdity. The great difficulty of the Middle Ages was precisely to make Catholics live up to their intense and living faith which is impressed upon all their art, their literature and their monuments. It was something far more indeed than the fiducial trust in Christ, which Luther held to be sufficient for salvation. By giving to faith this new and debased meaning, and by detracting at the same time from the value which Christ attached to the works of justice and of charity, Luther made himself guilty of one of the most un-social as well as un-Christian acts in history.

Protestants need not feel aggrieved at the expression of this judgment, since in practice they have long ago relinquished Luther's position. They have achieved their good works by ignoring his fundamental doctrines and often openly impugning them. For confirmation of the evil results of Luther's teaching regarding good works we need not go elsewhere than to Protestant authorities. In "The Protestant Revolution and the Catholic Reformation in Continental Europe," the Protestant Professor Edward Maslin Hulme briefly summarizes them in the words of the chief Reformers. His reference to "Catholic salvation by good works," can, however, according to Catholic doctrine, be accepted only in the sense already explained and without excluding the necessity of faith. It will be noticed, moreover, that like certain other Protestant writers he describes the Lutheran movement by the more appropriate word "Revolution," since "Reformation" can properly apply only to the Catholic movement of spiritual reform without revolt. With this premise — to omit other qualifications — I offer entire the following striking passage from Professor Hulme's work:

In opposition to the Catholic salvation by good works, the Revolution has emphasized justification by faith alone. Some of the extreme Lutherans even asserted that good works were prejudicial to salvation. In doing this they emptied faith of its essence, and left it little else than a mere acceptance of the dogmas of their Church. Jacob Andreae, canon and chancellor of Tubingen, said that: "As the doctrine of justification by faith alone was preached, the ancient virtues vanished and a crowd of new vices appeared in the world." Bucer, who helped to establish Protestantism in Strassburg, said that: "Corruption makes further strides every day in the Evangelical Church." Melanchthon averred: "Not all the waters of the Elbe would be sufficient for me to weep over the evils of the Reformation." And finally Luther himself said that: "There is not one of our Evangelicals that is not seven times worse than before he belonged to us" (p. 366).

These surely are startling passages from the leading men connected with the Lutheran Reformation, indicating the socially destructive nature of Luther's work. Nothing needs to be added to them as they are presented here from a purely Protestant source. In a subsequent article I purpose to consider the remaining two doctrines singled out to illustrate the social perniciousness of the Lutheran teaching, as it came from the mind of the "great Reformer," the apostate monk of Wittenberg.

II. — Concerning Sin

Owing to its serious error on the subject of good works the Reformation was necessarily destructive in its social aspect. But there were still other dogmas propounded by Luther which, if logically followed out in practice, would have made chaos of all civilization. The next of these to be considered here is Luther's teaching regarding sin.

Although forgiven in Baptism, original sin is not cleansed away, according to Lutheran doctrine, but still remains in man. It is merely no longer imputed to him. God, that is, deigns to overlook it, but does not remove it. As the apostate monk had not hesitated to falsify the Scriptures, by inserting the word "alone" in the Epistle to the Romans, that it might seem to sustain his newly invented dogma of justification by faith alone, so now, in his commentary on this same Epistle, we find him misinterpreting St. Augustine to give authority to his new doctrine on original sin (fol. 144). What St. Augustine really held (De Nupt. et Concup., I., c. 25, nn. 28, 29) was that sin is indeed forgiven in Baptism, is entirely cleansed away, but that the concupiscence of the flesh remains, which is of course not imputed as a sin. This had been the Catholic doctrine always, containing nothing of that depressive gloom which the Lutheran error cast over religion. Should Luther at first have been merely mistaken in his reading of St. Augustine, he could readily have ascertained the true meaning.

Proceeding further, Luther taught that every sin committed before the sinner believes is mortal in its nature, a doctrine equally dark and repulsive. Omne peccatum, quod ad substantiam facti attinet, est mortale. (In Gal., III. 24.)

As soon, however, as the sinner performs his act of faith, wrongly so called by Luther, the sin is no longer his. Christ has now accepted it; it "adheres" in Christ. Here, as might be expected, Luther flies at once to the opposite extreme. Sin is made to lose its significance for the sinner. All distinction between sin, moreover, is suddenly destroyed, for Christ equally accepts all sins, without any discrimination, whether great or small, whether the theft of a penny or the murder of a helpless child. Just an act of fiducial trust and all sins are forthwith "absorbed" (Weimar Ed., Vol. VI., p. 529). This is delightful doctrine for the sinner. He can now go on and "sin boldly," as Luther advised Melanchthon in the letter quoted further on. But it is not calculated, like the sober and serious teaching of the Church and of the Scriptures, to make men recoil from sin. It is unsocial as it is unscriptural. Christian civilization could exist only in spite of such teachings. (See Denifle, "Luther and Luthertum," pp. 702 ff. )

Luther himself naturally contradicts and refutes his new and monstrous dogma in many ways, yet in theory he has no hesitancy to go even much further. We actually find him teaching the incredible doctrine which is formulated by him in the following words: "There is no longer any sin in the world except unbelief." The stench of all other sins committed by the Faithful, he adds in explanation, passes unnoticed by God because of their faith. (Erlangen Ed., Vol. IV., 2, p. 131.) What an invitation, indeed, to the sensuous-minded to revel in a very debauch of sin, or to the avaricious to rob and plunder and oppress to their heart's content. The complete Lutheran passage referred to cannot, unfortunately, be quoted here owing to its indecency.

If, therefore, on the one hand, Luther doubtless often inveighs against sin in thundering terms, yet on the other he removes from it all real terror. The following passage surely is plain enough:

You see how rich the Christian is [i. e., the follower of Luther's new-fangled Evangel] since even if he wished it he could not lose his salvation, no matter how many sins he might commit, provided he will believe. No sin can bring about his damnation except unbelief alone. All else is swept away by his faith the moment it returns and clings to the Divine promises made to the baptized. (Weimar Ed., Vol. VI., p. 529.)

Comfortable doctrine, this ! But of what avail can it be to restrain the passions of men? Men might as well turn to Mahomet as their prophet. On the same level, too, is Luther's advice to those who naturally enough find themselves perplexed with doubts regarding this preposterous Evangel. He tells them that they should fearlessly expel such temptations by freely indulging in sensuality, in thoughts, he says, "of a beautiful girl, of money-making, of drink, or of some other vivid emotion" ("Colloq." Ed. Bindseil, Vol. II, p. 209). Wonderful counsel for a religious teacher to give! Yet it is easily explained if we have penetrated deep enough into the psychology of Luther's mind. In all things, his first principle was that he must safeguard his self-invented Gospel. For this he urged the murder of the poor peasants by the thousands; for this he permitted bigamy; for this he justified lying. I need but refer to his license given to Philip, the Landgrave of Hesse, to keep two wives at the same time, and his approval of "a good round lie," in the case of the same unspeakable Philip, when such a deliberate falsehood could help on Luther's own cause, which in his constant self-justification he persisted in identifying with the cause of Christ.

Understanding the length and breadth and depth of the ruinous possibilities, for individuals and society, contained in the Lutheran doctrine here explained, were it ever taken seriously by any person or social group, we cannot help feeling a thrill of horror at the mere mention of such an impossible identification. We need but recall here, in conclusion, Luther's letter to Melanchthon, August 1, 1521, to which reference was made before. Luther wrote:

God does not save those who are imaginary sinners. Be a sinner and sin boldly, but believe more boldly . . . It is sufficient that through the riches of the glory of God we have known the Lamb which taketh away the sins of the world. Sin would not tear us away from Him even though in a single day we commit fornication and murder a thousand and a thousand times . . . Pray boldly, for you are a very bold sinner. ("Briefwechsel," Vol. III, p. 208.)

Explain such passages as we may, they cannot be excused. But we have quoted enough of Luther's language to show how socially as well as religiously perverse was the Lutheran teaching upon sin.

III. — The Slave Will

We now come to the third of the socially disastrous doctrines that Luther foisted upon the world, his dogma of the "slave will." Man, whom all the centuries of Christianity had regarded as a morally responsible being, and whom the teachings of Our Lord and the Sacred Scriptures had always presented in the same light, was now stripped by Luther of that great gift of free will upon which all accountability rests. Luther had thus anticipated the modern rationalist schools by almost four centuries. Their reasons are naturally based upon different grounds. Their materialism forces them to deny all forms of activity except physico-chemical reactions, since for them there is nothing in life but physics and chemistry, and there can hence be no deliberate moral action. Luther's denial of free will was no less radical, and he was equally inconsistent, sublimely ignoring his dogma in his practice.

If man is not responsible for either the good or the evil he does, as Luther so dogmatically held, why preach to the people? If he is compelled beyond his power of prevention to sin or to be virtuous, why make of him a subject for praise or blame? Such inconsistencies did not perplex Luther, but his hearers were often more logical than he. What wonder then if at times they lived up to the conclusions to which this dreadful doctrine inevitably led. Indeed, if taken seriously, it would alone suffice to ruin the whole social and civic life of mankind.

But did Luther certainly mean to deny the freedom of the human will? I have been asked that question, and on careful study cannot hesitate to answer with the strongest affirmative. That he deliberately repudiated all liberty of human action where there is question of right or wrong, of good or evil, is clear from the fact that his elaborate work upon this subject was written as an answer to the attack made upon him by Erasmus for precisely this denial of the free will. The apostate friar not merely admitted the charge brought against him, but gloried in it, by vehemently maintaining and defending his own dogma of "the slave will," a phrase which he took from St. Augustine, again entirely misunderstanding, or else wilfully misinterpreting the great Doctor of the Church.

The work of Erasmus, "De Libero Arbitrio Diatribe," was published in 1524. In it the celebrated scholar argued that according to Luther not only all good, but all moral evil as well must be referred back to God, who alone is thus made morally accountable for all sin as for all virtue in the world. This is contrary to the Divine nature and the Holiness of God. Again, according to Luther, God damns sinners eternally, although they can in no way be accountable for their sin, since they were without any human freedom in their action. This conflicts with the Divine Goodness and Mercy. Lastly, if Luther's contention were correct, laws and punishments would be superfluous upon earth, since without free will no man could be held accountable for his deeds. Such was the argument of Erasmus.

In making his answer Luther took for the very name of his book that significant title to which we have already referred, "De Servo Arbitrio," "Concerning the Slave Will." While there is abundant contradiction in Luther's volume, it remains clear that he denies the freedom of the human will in matters of virtue and sin: "Rapitur omnium voluntas, ut velit et faciat, sive sit bona sive mala." "Everyman's will is forced to will and do what is right or wrong." That is the substance of his teaching, which in practice, of course, he constantly contradicts, and even in theory cannot hold consistently, since it is too monstrous an imposition on the human intelligence. Fortunately for Lutherans, Melanchthon would not accept this item of his master's teachings.

What is more, Luther even did not hesitate to ascribe a very strange and explicit contradiction to Almighty God Himself. God, he held, could in His "revealed will," as made known in the holy Scriptures, declare His desire to save all men, while in His "secret will" this desire might be entirely negatived by Him. Were this preposterous doctrine accepted we could never be certain whether any of the promises made by Almighty God, in the most express terms, through His Prophets and Apostles, might not be annulled by Him in His "secret will," and so be ineffective. In a word, we could place no reliance whatsoever on the Word of God itself. A terrible conclusion to arrive at. That way, indeed, lies madness!

It may be surprising to many, but it certainly is true, that Luther's dogma of the absolute predestination of the damned to hell did not differ in any way from Calvin's fatalistic teaching. As the Protestant theologian Taube says, and as has so often been repeated, Luther escaped a pure fatalism through his inconsequence only.

God and the devil, he tells us, in the passage which is particularly characteristic, are struggling with one another for the human soul. Its actions are good or evil accordingly as one or the other gains possession. If the devil leaps into the saddle the soul has no choice but to do evil. It must obey every prick of his spur and every check of his bit and rein. It does so gladly, but must go as he drives it. It can neither choose its rider nor its course. Here is the blasphemous picture as Luther himself paints it:

When the stronger comes upon us and makes us his prey, in wresting us from our former ruler, we become his servants and prisoners in such a way that we wish and gladly do whatever he wills.

Thus the human will stands like a steed between the two. If God mounts into the saddle, man wills and goes according to God's will, as the Psalmist has it: "I am become as a beast before thee: and am always with thee." If however the devil leaps into the saddle, man wills and goes as the devil wills. It is not in his power to run to one of the two riders and offer his services to him; but the riders themselves struggle with one another for possession of the animal ("De Servo Arbitrio," Weimar Ed., Vol. XVIII, p. 633).

Nothing could be clearer than this. Man is given no freedom either in the choice of his master — whether he is to belong to God or the devil — or in the moral direction of his life and its actions, since the rider determines that. But how, we wonder, could so abhorrent a doctrine have been reconciled with the Divine attributes by Luther. The fact is he made no attempt at any such reconciliation. He plainly stated that the entire doctrine cannot be reconciled with them, but must simply be accepted as he lays it down: "No application of the intellect," he says, "no matter how hard we try, can ever save the holiness of God" (Ibid., p. 719). It is just according to God's own good pleasure, he adds, that He "forsakes men, hardens and damns them." He damns the innocent because it pleases Him, immeritos damnat (Ibid., p. 730). Could any doctrine be more blasphemous, could any be more destructive of the moral order in social life?

I have here singled out but three of Luther's anti-social dogmas. A long list might be added here to show how far indeed these are from exhausting the unsocial and immoral principles to be found in his writings and strenuously defended by him. Of these facts little is known to the ordinary reader, whether Catholic or Protestant. But what has been quoted in the three articles printed here should suffice to discredit whatever little authority Luther may still possess with the modern world. As a religious teacher no one can regard him seriously, even though only the three doctrines considered here are taken into account with all their logical consequences Luther's teaching on good works, on sin, and on the "slave will." May his quadricentenary, that has now closed, serve also as his obsequies! How far different the response given by the entire world to the glorious commemoration of the Catholic poet Dante!

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