LUTHER "saw in the whole mediaeval period but one thing: Service by works, directed by the Anti-Christ in Rome. This historical view of Luther has lingered on . . . and continues to live through the reading of his works." W. Köhler, who wrote these words, acknowledges at the same time that the view is false, for he says: "The canticle of grace never ceased to sound in the Catholic Church, only it never sounded alone."{1}
Luther himself derived in his youth from the active powers within the Church "his new living force; he gained it from those very forces of grace, justice, hope, and love which Catholicism makes a ground of reproach against us Protestant historians of the Reformation." If this is true, Luther was undoubtedly wrong in imputing to the Middle Ages that bondage to works which he says was inspired by the Anti-Christ. No one can deny that, on important questions affecting his theory of salvation, Luther brought charges against the Church and scholasticism which he must have known to be false. He says again and again that works are the idol of Papists, especially of monks and nuns. "They abandon God and fear Him not, and desire not His graces and gifts, viz., forgiveness of sins, but they trot on, expecting to be saved by their Orders, cowls, and dull works, and so obtain forgiveness of their sins."{2}
According to Luther, chastity had until his time been regarded as the highest virtue and the mark of sanctity, whilst true justice had consisted in the compliance with external regulations. People thought of God as a stern, angry judge, and knew nothing of the consolation of the Gospel or of faith in God's mercy. The unjustifiable character of these accusations has, since the time of the Reformation and the Council of Trent, often been proved; Denifle alone has collected a quantity of fresh material to disprove them, and the reader may be reminded of the liturgy contained in the Missal and Breviary, which Luther himself had used daily. Nevertheless the same old assertions recur again and again in Protestant literature.
If modern students intend to deal with mediaeval theology, they should give up individual prejudices. But on the other hand it must be admitted that the discursive and minute speculations of the latter scholastics are apt to give rise to fresh doubts, and make it hard for them to survey the essential and common points of faith. At the same time they bring into their discussion, according as they are positively or liberally inclined, modern points of view which have little to do with the dogmatic points of conflict between Luther and the Church. One objects to scholasticism because it dissects religious questions in a scientific way and gives them a metaphysical foundation; another finds fault with it for admitting "magical," sacramental influences to bear upon morals; a third, on the contrary, objects to teaching "bare moralism," i.e., a purely human morality; a fourth finds fault for not giving a uniform solution of the problems and mysteries connected with the doctrines of grace!
Let us, therefore, give a short account of the Catholic doctrine of justification, as taught by the great masters of scholasticism, by the Catechism and devotional literature of the Middle Ages, and above all by the Council of Trent. We shall then compare with it Luther's doctrine of justifying faith, which Protestants still extol as the most important doctrine of the Reformation, although Sell says that "there are few among the Protestant laity who rightly understand it."
According to Catholic teaching, the redemption and forgiveness obtained for us by Christ refer, not, as many Protestants believe, only to original sin, but to all the sins of the human race; i.e., to original sin and to all the actual sins committed to the end of the world. It is true, as St. Paul says, that there is a great generic connection in the sphere of sin, as well as in that of grace and sanctification; these are embodied respectively in Adam and Christ. Sin was in itself a revolt against God's law, a voluntary abandonment of the highest aim of life. The immediate moral effect of the sinful act was guilt, a permanent state of rejection by God and of deserving punishment. A more remote, psychologically perceptible consequence was the injury done to human nature, the strength given to perverse inclinations, and the preponderance acquired by sensual impulses. In the actual scheme of salvation man was and is also called to a supernatural union with God. This union begins here below in sanctifying grace, which raises and enlightens the mind of man, filling it with mystical life derived from God, and it is completed in the beatific vision in heaven.
Grievous sin destroys this supernatural life of grace; in addition to corrupting nature and to causing moral guilt, sin brings about the mystical "death" of the soul, and thus its full effect is realized. The habit of sin in fallen man cannot be removed by mere contrition or a resolution to sin no more; it can be cured only by God's forgiveness, a miracle of grace, that awakens the sinner to a new, moral life pleasing to God. God laid in Adam the foundation of both natural life and supernatural grace and sanctification, for the whole human race; it depended upon his moral decision whether he should pass on to his descendants the grace, as well as the nature, with which he had been equipped. Adam's fall into sin involved mankind in destruction. His action was a wilful failure to do right; the sin was personal, but the sinful condition resulting from it became a constituent part of human nature and passed with it on to Adam's posterity. Yet original sin is nothing positive, as it is not the guilt following an actual offence; nor is it essentially either corporal or sensual. The loss, sustained by the spirit of man, of its true direction towards God and of the principle of divine grace, and the limiting of his life to the ego and to its finite powers, have resulted in a state of spiritual disorder and impoverishment that forms the essence of original sin. Want of supernatural justice is a state of sin, because it is contrary to man's real destiny and obligation; it also affects the natural life to some extent, since supernatural justice was no mere external addition, but, like a higher inspiration, pervaded all the faculties of the soul and brought them into harmony.
Hence original sin is connected with a disturbance of the natural faculties of the soul; they are not dead, but weakened and wounded; no intellectual and religious power (such as that of conscience or freedom) has been destroyed, but its action is impeded and obscured, and all this is connected with the removal of restraint from the sensual nature. The disorder thus produced in the natural desires is called concupiscence, which displays its power to tempt most plainly in sexual matters, the very means by which fallen nature is propagated. When St. Paul speaks of the evil passion as sin, he is using the word "sin" in a broader sense. According to St. Augustine and St. Thomas, concupiscence is the material side, the embodiment of original sin; it is at once a result of and a stimulus to sin, but it is not the essence of original sin. Still less ought it to be put on a level with continuous, actual sin; its natural impulses become sinful only when the free will of man sanctions them or is answerable for them. St. Paul testifies to this truth when, in speaking of baptized persons, he says that there is now no condemnation to them,{3} although their susceptibility to evil remains.
What is the case of those not yet baptized who are in a state of sin? As moral action is essentially free, the involuntary impulses of passion cannot even here be accounted sinful; and in fact the will has strength to resist temptation, to follow what the conscience perceives to be a duty, and to do naturally good works. Nevertheless a twofold limitation exists in this case; viz., a lack of moral freedom and a want of power which we must describe as "bondage" to sin.
No natural morality is able to alter the whole sinful condition of man, to restore his innocence and holiness, or to renew the bond of love uniting him to God as His child. Just as a corpse cannot raise itself to life, so the soul cannot by its own strength renew the divine life within itself. But even to observe the natural moral law as a whole is beyond the power of fallen man. The will may be able to resist isolated temptations, but as long as the whole life of the soul is not renewed and firmly established in God, it cannot stand firm so as to resist all assaults and "fulfil the whole law"; the state of sin causes fresh sinful actions.
Thus mankind in general and each individual man requires redemption and sanctification through God; and our only Mediator is Jesus Christ. As man He is the second founder of our race, again epitomizing in Himself the whole human race, and with heroic self-sacrifice taking upon Himself all our suffering, both of expiation and of punishment. As the Son of God He possesses such dignity and sanctity as to accomplish the work of atonement to the full. But just as sin spread through the organic connection of each individual with the founder of the race, so must each individual enter into connection with Christ in order to share in His redemption and grace. It is in harmony with the great mystery of the incarnation, the death and resurrection of Christ, and with the idea of the Church as His mystical body, that this grace should be given, not in a purely spiritual way, but normally through visible signs; viz., the sacraments. Christ Himself requires men to be born again by water and the Holy Ghost, and to receive the forgiveness of sins through the apostles. If, besides this, there is a purely inward conversion through contrition and the desire of salvation, still the very name "Baptism of desire" shows that the Redeemer's grace, and at least a tacit appeal to it, must not be absent. The reception of the sacrament by a man desirous of salvation is in itself a moral act, a token of humility, confidence, and adherence to Christ, the Son of God, who in His priestly capacity administers the sacrament. But the Church lays still further emphasis upon the moral character of justification, without imperilling the freedom and supremacy of God's gracious will and the mystical importance of conversion.
All moral actions, including such as are natural, depend upon the assistance of our Creator, who stimulates and supports our will (concursus generalis); but preparation for receiving salvation requires a specifically higher degree of enlightenment and strength, and this is the supernatural grace of assistance (gratia actualis). Its first bestowal is independent of any merit on our part. Natural striving after virtue may have a remote effect in preparing the ground, but the heavenly seed must be planted from above. Often the greatest sinners are called by God by bestowing on them superabundant grace. While He gives grace gratis and without restriction, the Church teaches that no man is without sufficient grace to secure his salvation. And with this call of grace he is bound to coöperate freely and becomes capable of preparing for justification. The divine and the human elements are intermingled in the process that now begins. Starting with faith, the root of justification, it advances through fear, hope, contrition, and resolution of amendment, until it reaches its culmination in the love of God. Sometimes this growth takes a long time, sometimes only a moment. In the case of one man it is perfect, in that of another less so; but in all cases, even in the case of attrition, it requires a true conversion of the heart, detestation of grievous sin, and a resolution to set God and His will before everything. Never, even when the contrition based on love is most perfect, is it right to lose sight of Christ and His merits, for this would give rise to human self-justification. "Nothing that precedes justification, whether it be faith or works, merits the grace of justification itself."{4} Love of God, the highest stage in the process, is from one aspect an indispensable disposition for sanctifying grace; but from the other aspect it is itself a result of the new spirit infused into us, it is the most vivid expression of grace and its sanctifying power. "In Christ Jesus neither circumcision availeth anything nor uncircumcision, but faith that worketh by charity," -- "neither circumcision nor uncircumcision, but a new creature."{5}
Biblical expressions, such as "new creature," "the purification and rebirth of man," show most plainly that justification is no purely juridical act, no mere covering up of sin, but a real removal of guilt, a renewal of the interior man by the life of grace, so that we are not merely called children of God, but actually become such (gratia sanctificans). There is no difference in time or occurrence between the forgiveness of sins and the bestowal of new life; they take place simultaneously. The new vital principle craves for development; being closely connected with the moral impulse of charity, it regards the law of the Lord as obligatory, but yet as a sweet burden, and carries on a humiliating but wholesome and chastening struggle against evil passions, and thus grows up to peaceful assurance and maturity. This growth is a time of fruitfulness, since the labours and struggles of the one who has been pardoned merit a heavenly reward. The meritorious character of good works depends upon God's gracious promise and upon our Saviour's grace working in the soul. It is by no means a ground for vain self-justification, but a living testimony to the power and efficacy of the redemption.
We have further reason for humility with regard to our efforts, inasmuch as in this world we cannot be absolutely certain that we are in the state of grace; we can have only a moral certainty, corresponding to the imperfection of our condition as pilgrims, but yet sufficient to give us peace of conscience. Absolute certainty could be given to individuals only by means of a special revelation, and Holy Scripture affords us no guarantee of this; our higher life is still hidden in God, and we find consolation in unreserved confidence in Him, the almighty and all merciful God. Our ultimate salvation cannot be absolutely certain because we may lose His grace by our own fault and drive the Holy Spirit from our souls by mortal sin. Not only unbelief, but every serious transgression of the moral law, destroys the higher harmony of life. He who has the faith commits a greater, not a lesser, sin than an unbeliever, if he breaks God's law. He has been raised by grace out of the bondage of sin, and, in the spirit of charity that has been bestowed upon him, he has power to withstand temptations and to keep with true liberty the commandments in all that is essential. Even the just is liable to fall into sin in the same way as a healthy man is liable to small, passing ailments; only venial sin, which is a morally slight transgression, is compatible with the justice derived from faith.
The moral importance of this doctrine of justification appears also in the statement that, after the guilt of sin has been remitted, its temporal punishment remains to be expiated by our own exertions. Such expiatory exercises are remedies and not merely penalties; they help the life of grace, now rooted in the centre of the soul, to expand, and they expel all the stains and remnants of sin. Just as Christ's love kindles our love, so His sufferings for our redemption make us eager to suffer in reparation; by having suffered in our place, He rouses us to follow Him with gratitude and love. Moreover, as the Church embraces all who are redeemed, this beneficial interchange of satisfaction continues within her. Although each individual is justified through his own conversion, and can bring forth fruits of eternal life only by his own exertions, yet the universal merits of the Church can be applied, by means of indulgences, to remove the temporal punishment that is still due after a man's conversion. In theory an indulgence is an assistance making for energetic action and not for inactivity. It maintains in Christians the sense of their permanent supernatural unity in Christ, and of the strict conformity to law and advantage of morality, although in practice indulgences have often been misused and made futile.{6} When, after considering the Catholic doctrine of justification, we pass on to Luther's teaching, we can understand what a Protestant writer meant by saying that when Luther's principles are examined "morality slips through the fingers." {7} The fact that Luther often denies his own principles, and then alludes to moral questions just as any other earnest Christian would do, ought not to deter us from bringing into prominence the fundamental points of his doctrine regarding justification and comparing them with Catholic teaching. We may begin with Luther's statements as to the radical corruption and moral bondage of man in the state of nature. Luther regards the grace and justice of man, in his original condition, not as a supernatural endowment, but as natural to humanity. On this point he is in direct opposition to Catholic doctine. He does not doubt that original sin involves a strong tendency to evil, a profound injury to man, so that nature is wounded and blinded in all that concerns religion and morals. He says plainly: "The spiritual forces are not only corrupted, but absolutely destroyed by sin." He rejects the principle, laid down by St. Augustine and St. Thomas, that evil is a negation, not a positive power, and so he arrives at the terrifying doctrine that sin has penetrated into human nature until it has become a part of its very essence; and just as originally justice was de essentia hominis, so now is sin de essentia hominis.{8} Sin in man is "a continual incentive, or an entelechy, that produces its results."{9}
This leads on to the conclusion that our whole being is sin, and Luther does not hesitate to accept it, for he says: "It is true that I stand before you as a sinner, that sin is my nature, the beginning of my existence, my conception, not to mention my words, works, thoughts, and subsequent life. How should I be without sin, when I was made in sin and sin is my very nature and origin?"{10} As the sensible proof of this total corruption of nature he regards concupiscence, the unrestrained desire of evil, which incessantly reveals itself in sensuality and the general selfishness of mankind. This is not merely a penalty of and stimulus to sin, but it is original sin itself, as continually active, personal sin; for, in Luther's opinion, freedom to commit sin is not indispensable to actual sin. Braun, like Denifle, considers the result of Luther's first development to be his "conviction of the destructive force of concupiscence, that poisons human nature to its very roots."{11} "Luther adhered, therefore, to the statement that concupiscence is sin, whether it precedes or follows grace; it constitutes original sin." Braun remarks that "the struggle with the first movements of passion can be carried on seriously only when they are regarded as real sins, not as frailty."{12} But what is the use of struggling when even the moral efforts and the good works of natural man are "vain, foolish, punishable, damnable sins"?{13}
When man is considered in this light, it is obvious that no moral preparation for justification is possible. With his natural strength he can do nothing that tends towards grace; he cannot freely obey its invitation, because his fundamental moral forces are dead;{14} and when we are told, immediately after, that the sinner attains to salvation by faith alone, the preceding statements compel us to assume that this faith, too, cannot possibly be a moral act of virtue proceeding from the interior of a soul akin to God.
What does Luther mean by faith, which he, having arbitrarily inserted sola in Romans iii. 28, declared to be the one and only means of justification? It is not mere belief in the Revelation, not faith in Christ as the Redeemer of the world -- this dogmatic faith is only the presumption on which saving faith rests; the latter is "the lively and undoubting presumption by which a man is certain beyond all certainty that he is pleasing to God, and that he has a gracious and forgiving God in all that he does and accomplishes; gracious in goodness, forgiving in evil. For what is faith, unless it be this presumption?" {15}
Faith, therefore, does not refer to God and Christ in the sense that They desire all men to be saved, but to the salvation and justification assured, by God's mercy, to the individual through Christ. "God is God to me, He speaks to me, He remits my sins."
It was in consequence of Luther's own anxiety of conscience, of the moral discord in his own nature, that he arrived at this new doctrine, the whole point of which is that a man must be absolutely certain of his own pardon. The "certainty of salvation," which is his aim, does not extend only to his present state of grace; we shall find relief from our troubled conscience only if we are perfectly certain also regarding our future felicity. Justifying faith includes a belief in the ultimate happiness in heaven of the believer. A man must not doubt that he is one of those who have attained grace and mercy by their baptism, and "when he believes this, he must freely declare of himself that he is holy, pious, just, a child of God, and certain of eternal happiness."{16}
Neither Luther himself nor modern theologians are clear as to the manner in which a man may arrive psychologically at this sort of faith. It is obvious that the reference to the reception of the sacrament does not fit in with the theory of certainty regarding salvation, nor with that of sola fides. If faith be the acceptance of something as true, as the voluntary recognition of some existing fact, -- and innumerable passages support this definition, -- the existing fact must necessarily be antecedent to faith; in other words, election to grace and pardon must precede the act of faith, and therefore, in the case of an individual, he must know it by some kind of revelation. Many theologians actually regard the process thus, and think that a man is convinced by the evidence of his own mind, by Holy Scripture, or by some inward perception of grace, and that his faith is based on this conviction. On the other hand, it is not easy to prove that Luther held this opinion; it is contrary to the idea, frequently expressed in his works, that a Christian must "establish" the fact of his pardon and sonship of God, in opposition to all his feelings; he must be bold and forcibly obtain this faith and make it his own by practice. But on what is this to be based? Perhaps on the fact of faith itself, so that, when we are tempted to despond, we need only appeal to the existence of our faith? Luther often seems to think thus, but it is unmistakably a circulus vitiosus; for what basis could there be for the first decisive act of faith? We are probably correct in saying that, according to Luther, hopeful faith has no criterion at all; it is established only in the sense that it is a presumption based, not on knowledge, but on great emotion, and it is really a venture on the part of the will, which violently seeks consolation on the subject of salvation. Such certainty as this ignores the very essence of truth and confounds the matter with the act of conviction. Yet this procedure is not incompatible with Luther's nominalistic tendency and violent disposition. He delighted in the conclusion: sicut credit, sic habet, a man has what he believes himself to have.{17}
This opinion might be reconciled with his theology if we may assume that God offers effective grace to all men in the same manner, so that each has only to grasp it. But this contradicts other statements made by Luther, and it would remove the characteristic personal element that is found in his doctrine of faith. Nor can we transfer the whole act from the intellect to the will -- in other words, make faith equivalent to hope (fiducia, spes), as some theologians attempt to do; for Luther has laid too much stress on the assertory element in faith. The confusion and obscurity are, I think, hopeless. In order to remove them, we must first settle these fundamental difficulties: If man is to be justified by faith, then faith in itself cannot be justification; or, if faith is the recognition of salvation already bestowed by God, then this salvation cannot possibly be acquired by faith.{18}
The question of the inclusion of eternal happiness in certainty of salvation is equally obscure. Luther demands it, for he cannot abandon it without diminishing "the consolation of the Gospel." We shall see that in his opinion even impending sin does not destroy certainty; but what must we say of the possibility of losing faith, the foundation of salvation itself? In a sermon of the year 1522 Luther says that a Christian must not waver in his conviction that he is the child of God, but he ought to feel fear whether he will always continue "to rely faithfully upon God's grace." Subsequently, as Köstlin says, he avoided all discussion of this point, although its importance certainly required it.{19} It is generally admitted that the importance of faith to salvation is not, in Luther's opinion, connected with the moral freedom and excellence of the act of faith. Faith itself is merely a work of grace, in which man is purely passive. It is not a moral action, but simply a "laying hold" of the merits of Christ in order to make up for one's own defects. There is a further question, of peculiar interest to us, whether faith does not contain within itself the germ of a new and true morality, and whether it requires a serious moral conversion as a necessary condition, and a holy, sinless life as essential to its preservation.
We have seen that, according to Catholic doctrine, faith acquires a justifying force only when it is united with a firm purpose of amendment. On this point, "faith active through charity" is opposed to the Lutheran "faith alone." Luther often pretends to be combating only the theory that man could earn justification by doing the works of the law; but such a thcory was never tolerated in the Church. Justification is gratis, but is conditioned by the moral disposition of man; it continues only where there is moral uprightness.
Now it is certain that Luther required nothing whatever but faith as a condition for justification. No thoughts of the law, of moral duty, of love or good works must intrude when man is concerned with being free from sin and assured of salvation. Even though justification and eternal happiness are closely connected, and in Luther's opinion they are almost identical, morality cannot be regarded as a subsequent, necessary proof of faith or as a real condition of eternal happiness. If it were so considered, full salvation would again depend upon something else than fiduciary faith.
The Papists, according to Luther, do not simply accept the words: "He that believeth shall be saved," but they "tack on additions and glosses and say that we must understand it to mean: He that believeth and doeth good works, he shall be saved."{20}
Writing in 1522, Luther tried to prove that good works contributed nothing at all to the piety, sanctification, or ultimate happiness of man; the necessary kind of faith was that through which, "regardless of all my works, be they good or bad, I rely solely upon God's grace and mercy."{21}
In this "sharp distinction" between faith and morals Luther was consistent -- in fact he insisted upon it more emphatically as time went on; and to him the law and the Gospel are in contrast, and Christ is our Redeemer and Comforter, not our Lawgiver. The moral law must be rigorously excluded from piety; i.e., from our relation to God.{22}
It is true that in several places Luther describes in beautiful and impressive language the fertility of faith in good works and the impossibility of separating faith and charity. "Faith," he says, "is a living, busy, active, powerful thing, and it is impossible for it not to do good without intermission; it does not ask whether good works are to be done, but it does them without asking, and is ever in action. He who does no such works is a man without faith."{23}
Experience of God's love, gratitude for forgiveness, and the cheerful and serene heart impel a man to love in return and to do good works for his neighbour.{24} But this necessity is not a duty, nor is it the outcome of reasonable deliberation; it is a matter of course, like the action of some natural force, the burning of a fire, the light of the sun, the blossoming of the tree.{25}
Modern theologians are fond of quoting such passages as a proof of the moral productive power of Luther's faith. Tschackert even goes so far as to represent the union of faith and charity as the central point of his teaching, but we must have recourse to the methodical consideration to which I have already referred. The remnants of former Catholic theories and the truths of the natural moral consciousness prove little in favour of Luther when opinions in direct antithesis to them, stated quite seriously and proclaimed as being in a special sense "his own doctrine,"{26} also occur in his works.
On this particular point he was painfully aware of the difficulties in which he had involved himself. The want of good works shows, he says, that faith is merely apparent and not real;{27} but if there are both a genuine and a merely apparent kind of faith, what becomes of the certainty of faith and its independence of all justification by works? Sin, such as adultery, we are told elsewhere, does not condemn a man, but only shows that he has fallen away from faith, and tbis want of faith condemns him;{28} but as Luther's faith has inwardly nothing to do with good works, and as many Christians, zealous in the faith, commit grievous sins (as Luther often complains), it must be possible to lose one's faith without noticing it, -- and this is another conclusion fatal to certainty of salvation.
In addition there is the far more impressive doctrine, that a condition of faith and grace is not affected at all by grievous sins.
"If the sophists and those who seek sanctification by works do good, they have grace; if they sin, or fall, or are conscious of sin, grace falls too. . . . You must conceive of the kingdom of grace in a childlike way, believing that, by means of the Gospel, God has built up a new great heaven for us who believe. . . . Whoever is under this heaven can neither sin nor be in sin; for it is a heaven of grace, infinite and everlasting. And even should one sin or fall, he would not for that reason fall outside this heaven, unless he desired no longer to remain there but to go with the devil to hell, as unbelievers do."{29}
"A believer commits just as great sins as an unbeliever, but in the case of the believer they are forgiven and not imputed; whilst in that of the unbeliever they are retained and imputed. Therefore, although he the believer sins, he still continues to be a Godfearing man."{30}
"You see, then, how rich a Christian is; even if he so wishes, he cannot lose his salvation, may he commit ever so many sins, if only he ceases not to believe. No sins, but only unbelief, can lead to his condemnation. All others are, if faith in the promise made to him at baptism returns or continues, consumed by this faith."
It would be easy to collect many other similar passages which contain a clear statement that faith is compatible with sin, even with grievous sin, and that the certainty of salvation is unaffected by it. Without this fundamental principle, Luther could never have written his famous sentence: "Sin boldly, but believe yet more boldly." He even adds that sin is unable to separate us from the Lamb of God, although we may commit a thousand murders every day. If Luther had been convinced that faith must be living and fruitful, why did he reject the scholastic doctrine of living faith as "drivelling rubbish taught by the Papists"? Why, in spite of his faith in the Bible, did he take the bold and almost incomprehensible step of rejecting the epistle of St. James as non-apostolic?
The account just given of this doctrine is, morcover, the one that agrees best with the fixed principles of his system. To these belong: 1. The doctrine of the corruption and bondage of human nature. Sin is assumed to have penetrated into its very essence and to have become its entelechy, so that no inwardly good action is possible. Evil passions "are and continue to be sins, even in the baptized," and they can only produce evil works. Faith does not cure this state of sin, it only conceals it and covers it up, and it is impossible to keep God's law.{31} The faith that resides in man in spite of this evil is the gift of God; even an elevating tendency to do right and resist one's passions does not proceed from man's free will, but is, as it were, something outside him; no true goodness, motived from within, is possible.
2. It cannot be claimed that the above-mentioned evil impulses mean less serious defects, or venial sins, such as even a Catholic considers unavoidable. Luther, in fact, denies the actual disjunction between grievous and venial sins; the same transgressions are in a believer venial, and in an unbeliever mortal, sins. Hence in the case of both kinds of sin the same answer is returned to the question whether sin and grace are compatible with one another.{32}
3. As the central point of his doctrine regarding salvation Luther sets the exterior imputation of Christ's justice; the sinner remains in his moral uncleanness, but by faith the sanctity of Christ is imputed to him. Our own works are "accursed and vain things"; we must look upon Christ's justice "as our own."{33} "God can see no sin in us, although we are full of sins; in fact we are absolutely sin itself. . . . He sees only the precious Blood of His beloved Son . . . with which we are sprinkled."{34}
Luther always maintained, in opposition to scholasticism, that justification by faith is not any personal quality, not a habitus in corde, but an acceptation of Christ's justice instead of one's own. In commenting on John xvi. 10, Luther says: "Our justice is pure and has its origin absolutely apart from ourselves, and depends solely upon Christ, His work, or His life." A Christian is justus et sanctus aliena seu extrinseca sanctitate.{35} Hence a sinner says: "If I am not myself pious, He [Christ] is pious; if I am not holy, He is holy."{36} In some respects grievous sin is preferable to sanctity, since it impels men to cast their sins upon Christ, and thereby to receive His justice in return.{37}
4. Luther's idea of the relation between faith and charity is important for the criticism of his sola fides doctrine. He abuses the scholastic expression fides caritate formata with great violence. It means that faith, although possessing in itself a moral character and value, only attains by means of charity to that higher form of life corresponding to the nature of a child of God.
Luther, on the contrary, regards love of God as subordination to the law; in justification "there is assuredly no reference to law," no love, but quite another kind of justice and a new world over and beyond the law. For Christ and faith are neither the law nor the work of the law."{38}
"If faith is formed by charity, works become the chief thing in God's sight; and if works, we ourselves."{39}
Luther evidently tried to separate charity from the interior justice, valid in God's sight. It is strange that he does not ask why faith is not a kind of self-justification, since it can be awakened "by ourselves." To St. Paul's plain statement that charity is the greater virtue, he appends the gloss: i.e., it extends over a wider sphere.{40}
We can see here that, in speaking of caritas, he thinks chiefly of charity towards one's neighbour; caritas as love of God, in the sense in which it predominates in the works of St. Augustine, St. Thomas, and the mystics, is with Luther quite subordinate. In fact he frequently says that the love of God is impossible in this world, or that God does not require our love. "A Christian lives only in Christ and in his neighbour, otherwise he is no Christian. He lives in Christ by faith, and in his neighbour by charity; by faith he is drawn above to God, and by charity down to his neighbour."{41}
The question under discussion must probably be decided in accordance with the doctrine of certainty of salvation, which certainty, according to Luther, must rest on faith alone, not on works or any presumptions of morality. There are other passages m which reference is made to moral life as evidence of faith, and Döllinger tries to reconcile them with the main doctrine by supposing sin to cause a momentary loss of faith and grace, but to be removed, or rather hidden, immediately by a renewed act of faith.{42} Even after we believe, we deserve damnation, but God overlooks our offences. This absolution transports us to a state in which there is without intermission forgiveness of sins, not only of former, but also of present sins. Feine and Braun both think that in Luther's opinion justification was not anything effected once for all and lasting; but, just as sin necessarily continues, so must justification be renewed daily by repeated acts of faith.{43} Harnack seems to adopt the same view, although he lays greater stress upon the fact that constant falls and recoveries have no effect upon the state of grace. He criticises the twelfth article in the Augsburg Confession, because it countenances the Catholic doctrine that whenever a Christian falls into sin, he falls from grace. . . . "This consideration, if it plainly and unmistakably formed the basis of the article, would amount to a denial of the chief point of evangelical faith. This faith does not, like the Catholic, discriminate between one sin and another, but acknowledges that we 'sin much every day.' If it were necessary to think that this always involved a cessation of the state of grace, we should be at once brought back to the heart of Catholicism. . . . In the Evangelical Church we must adhere to the article that God forgives the sins of a justified Christian, who is His child, and that forgiveness of sins and justification consist not only in the justificatio impii, but in the fact that a Christian lives on the forgiveness of sins, and is a child of God, in spite of sin and guilt. This chief thought, that a Christian does not fall from grace if he relies upon God's forgiveness of sins, and thus feels hatred of sin, has been at least obscured by the twelfth article in the Augsburg Confession."{44}
When we consider that we have here an explicit denial of any difference between venial and mortal sin, and think how this Protestant idea of justice, this constant alternation of grace and guilt, appears from the standpoint of the natural and Christian ideal of morality, we may well feel surprised that any one can regard such a view as superior to the Catholic doctrine. Even from the Protestant standpoint we may ask: "Can any one still call himself a child of God, when, being in a state of grievous sin, he needs to be justified anew? Has he not actually lost the faith which makes him God's child? Outward confession of Christianity is not faith in the sola fides sense! Can that be described as a state of grace and justice which is daily destroyed by sin? Is any trace left of certainty regarding salvation if after every sin I must make a fresh act of faith, and since, as I am absolutely incapable of free action, even my faith is purely a gift of God?"
A proper basis for these statements is furnished only if we understand the sin mentioned to be venial sin; but in that case we shall be emphasizing the very difference between one sin and another which Harnack denies.
Another question arises as to sanctification, which Luther regards in many places as the result of justification. After what has been said, it seems hardly possible to believe, as Braun does (p. 66), that it is a force effecting an ethical transformation and renewal in man. He has to admit that, according to Luther, human nature continues to be sinful, and that every virtue has a parallel vice aceompanying it and can at best only diminish its action (p. 210). But Luther describes the intimate union of a believer with Christ, the indwelling of the Holy Ghost, and he praises the holy fruits of a virtuous life that are its result! He could not altogether give up this mode of expression because the teaching of Holy Scripture is clear, and the doctrine of the supernatural life imparted at baptism firmly established. He succeeded, however, in depriving such statements of all value in two ways: (1) by recognizing no justitia inhaerens, no supernatural advantages peculiar to the creature. His doctrine concerning the indwelling of Christ is in direct opposition to the Catholic idea of an inward transformation into the likeness of Christ. According to Luther, Christ dwells in us only in so far as our faith lays hold upon Him, who sits at the right hand of the Father. The fruits of His spirit do not betoken any inward renewal of life; they only reveal the power of Christ, who is near us in our thoughts through religious feelings.{45} (2) Justification does not restore to man freedom to perform strictly moral actions. When Luther speaks of the freedom of a Christian, he means a delight in and inclination for doing good, which will -- though this is not invariably the case -- follow the bestowal of pardon. There is no thought here of free will. The simile of the sun, of the plant and its natural manifestation of vigour, is, according to Luther, literally applicable to the action of a just man. There is less a question of what he ought to do than of what he must do. God alone, having given him faith, operates according to His own good pleasure. We may call the man's action coöperation, inasmuch as it is not, like justification, an immediate, uncalled-for act of God; but free will has nothing to do with it: "per nos praedicat, miseretur pauperibus, consolatur afflictos. Verum quid hine libero arbitrio tribuitur? Imo quid ei relinquitur nisi nihil? et vere nihil!"{46}
The chief points on which Luther's doctrine of justification is morally untenable, and inferior to the Catholic theory, are the following:
1. The denial of free will and the notion of sin as inherent in nature. Morality, and the contrast between good and evil involved in it, vanish altogether unless the ego has control over itself, and unless it determines from within the desires and actions of a man. Ever since the fall of man, when our nobler faculties, that tended towards God, are assumed to have been destroyed, the absence of freedom, the yoke of bondage to sin, has rested upon us. Braun does not hesitate to extol the doctrine of the formal sinfulness of concupiscence as "a battering-ram against the rotten bulwark of mediaeval piety." He regards it as an upright action to recoguize the involuntary stirrings of lust as sin, because otherwise a loophole will be left to casuistry and to playing tricks with conscience (pp. 66, 307). Thus if a Christian, who is sincerely striving to shun sin, feels a temptation to anger or impurity and resists it at once, he has nevertheless sinned. Great saints like St. Catherine of Siena, who suffered from involuntary and scandalous thoughts and profoundly abhorred them, nevertheless sinned. Does not such a doctrine take away all our courage and energy, as well as all obligation to resist vice? Must we not absolutely despair of God and morality, if, with the best intentions, we cannot avoid sin? Why should the question whether one consented to temptation tend to looseness of conscience? Surely we have clearer knowledge of our own will than of anything else about ourselves. All the mistakes of "casuistry" put together cannot by far do the amount of harm that such a notion of morality must inevitably cause as it becomes widely spread! And at the present time we see that it is actually Luther's repute that is made to give new life to this retrograde view of morality, under the plea that it is serious and conscientious!{47}
2. The theory of aliena justitia, imputed justice, and the idea connected with it, that it is possible for a man to be at once just and a sinner, are equally opposed to morality. According to Catholic doctrine, Christ is the author of our salvation, but in virtue of His merits we too are purified and sanctified in the heart of our being; in this new life we can and ought to persevere, to work, and resist sin. According to Luther, however, the same action is both good and bad, the same man worthy of both grace and condemnation. No wonder that he feels it extremely difficult to believe this in such a way as to say: "I have sinned and I have not sinned"; by which means, of course, the supremacy of conscience is happily overthrown!{48}
Braun, admiring this kind of justice as an advance over the Catholic idea, says: "We perceive its great advantage over the first grace inasmuch as it cannot be affected by human sin. Standing objectively firm in itself, it overpowers all doubts arising from a subjective consciousness of guilt. . . . Thus we are indeed sinners in fact, but in God's sight we are just. . . . In the objectivity of this conception of justification the certainty of salvation was implied from the beginning" (p. 61). A conception standing in such direct opposition to reality is thus described by Braun as objective! Whereas he previously insisted upon veracity and conscientiousness, he now rejoices in a kind of grace that does not remove guilt but only the sense of guilt. True, he is thinking of the objective nature of our redemption, but if that would dispose of everything there would be no need of baptism, nor of any application of Christ's grace. And what is left of the objective redemption as a whole if it cannot actually repair the work of evil? What becomes of God's omnipotence, truth, and sanctity if He can look upon a sinner as if he had no sin? This whole theory is intelligible to some degree only if we either assume the existence in every creature of some dark, sinful remnant, that even God cannot remove, or else regard all reality on earth, good and evil alike, as an unreal apparition in God's sight. As a matter of fact such wavering between dualistic Manichaean ideas and an acosmistic pantheism is noticeable in Luther also in other matters.{49}
3. The preference given to faith rather than charity and the impetuosity to obtain to a certainty of salvation through personal faith, are both characteristic of Luther. He carried his own soul life into his theories. His inward unrest, which he sought forcibly to dominate, never allowed him to come to an objective, pious, and, at the same time, heroic view of life. His powerful imagination and his subjectivity led him to regard the individual perception, inward sense of faith, as of paramount and decisive importance; sicut credit, sic habet.{50}
A Catholic values achievement more highly than a consciousness that is often deceptive. He is not so much concerned with perceiving his own justice, as with being just, and with practising justice, whilst he keeps his eyes fixed on the objective rules and ideals of morality. He may forget his own self meanwhile, and leave it in God's hands to do as He will with him, being convinced that all tends to the good of those who love God. Having this disposition, he derives help and edification from the truths to faith, devotes himself to moral activity, looks up with joy to heaven, and abandons himself with love to God and Christ. Our Saviour emphatically made love the chief commandment: "Whosoever loveth, is born of God." "If I should have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing." Charity, not faith, is the essence of perfection, the real mark whereby God's children are recoguized, and Ritschl, Jakoby, and other Protestant theologians admit this to be the teaching of the Bible; the Catholic Church has never doubted it. Luther held that charity is giving and faith receiving, and as man is incapable of giving his Creator anything, it follows that fallen humanity is incapable even of loving God.{51}
But is not charity also receptive? Does it not receive the impress of goodness and beauty more distinctively than even knowledge? Our hearts are still stamped with the likeness of God, and long for His light and sanctity, and no sooner are they touched by the rays of grace, than they turn to God and let themselves be warmed and fashioned by His goodness. Although we can give Him nothing that He needs, we can still give Him our hearts and our life, and thus fulfil the aim of our creation and redemption. This most intimate dedication of self to God, which involves obedience to His commandments, is comprised in that caritas which is not a mere feeling, but an intellectual surrender of one's whole being to God.{52}
4. Luther disregards the indissoluble connection between religion and morality, and the preëminence of moral goodness over all other things. We have just seen that he sets a lower value upon charity and its works for the reason that they could give God nothing. Though the world was not created for God's advantage, it was created for His honour and glory, and this aim finds expression in the moral order. Love of God is the highest and most personal way in which we can glorify Him; and the fulfilment of every earthly duty may be interpreted as love of God, in as far as it conduces to the due order of the world, the image of divine goodness. Luther compares the faith that relies upon salvation in Christ with Abraham upon the mountain, and the law and morality with the ass, left below in the valley. Catholicism teaches us that faith and hope are inferior to charity; hope being so for the reason that it is centred on one's personal happiness, not on God. The grace given us by God, being from Him, is, of course, more perfect than human morality; but it is not more perfect than the law and end of morality, which are identical with God Himself. The greatest evil in sin is not that it deprives man of grace, but that it is an outrage upon God's sanctity. A doctrine deserving attention, and found in all the ascetical and casuistic books on morals, is that we must never commit a sin, not even a venial sin, even if we could thereby secure the salvation of the whole world; here we have a clear statement of the importance of morality as an absolute value, transcending all relative standards and requirements. True justification recoguizes no grace without moral conversion, and no consolation in faith without charity. When Luther distinguishes morality from faith, he sums it up in a characteristic fashion as charity towards one's neighbour, not as love of God, and assigns the earth and the civil order to it as its sphere of action. He does not regard morality as forming an organic part of the friendship and service of God, but at best as being a spontaneous reaction due to gratitude.
The account that I have given of Luther's teaching is borne out by its immediate effects, as viewed in history. The theological circles and learned associations that boasted of preserving with the utmost fidelity Luther's inheritance watched with distrust the tendency to lay greater stress upon the necessity of a moral life. Georg Calixt, who cautiously suggested that adultery and similar vices were impediments to salvation, incurred almost universal condemnation on the part of orthodox Protestant theologians. According to La garde, Luther's doctrine of justification had in the first half of the seventeenth century brought ethics into such disrepute that "any study of the subject at once aroused suspicion of heresy."{53}
Harnack, whilst wishing to acquit Luther, nevertheless accuses the German Protestant Church in that period of moral laxity and of want of serious efforts at sanctity.{54} Many writers in the "Christliche Welt" express similar views, although few are so outspoken as W. Köhler in acknowledging the wrong done to the Catholic Church by Luther and by disciples of Luther.{55}
The powerful influence of Holy Scripture, as also of men's natural conscience and of the effects of the Church's teaching and practice, did much to diminish the harm that such principles might otherwise have caused. Pietism, and other tendencies in Protestantism, gave a positive stimulus to active works of piety. But even now Ritschl feels that, in speaking of Christian perfection, he is touching a note that will sound strange to the ears of Evangelicals. From Tersteegen down to Stöcker, all complain that the Reformation dealt a blow at courageous striving after sanctity, and at the heroic spirit of sacrifice that was the outcome of a consciousness of the abiding power of God in the heart. The best and clearest evidence of the truth of the Catholic doctrine regarding justification and sanctification is to be found in the saints of the Church, in that glorious band of men and women who, from the depths of sin, or at least from human frailty and imperfection, have risen to marvellous purity and perfection. They reveal to us the power of a grace that is not forgiveness only, but also moral conversion, and supernatural life and glory.{56}
{1} op. cit., pp. 45, 47, 50.
{2} Erlangen ed., XXXVI, 269, seq.
{3} Rom. VIII. 1.
{4} Trid. s. 6, c. 8.
{5} Gal. v. 6; vi. 15.
{6} This short statement is in close agreement with the teaching of St. Augustine and St. Thomas, and with that of the Council of Trent (sess. 5 and 6) and of the Roman Catechism (cf. Mausbach, Ausgew. Texte zur aligemeinen Moral aus Thomas v. Aquin, 1905, §§ 47-49, 55, 57, 60, 61). Books of popular devotions, catechisms, etc., exist showing how seriously people in the Middle Ages regarded the reception of the sacraments.
{7} ~Stäudlin, op. cit., p. 202.
{8} Op. exeg. (ad. Frankfurt-Erlangen), I, 210.
{9} Disputat. (ed. Drews), p. 60.
{10} Weimar ed., XVIII, 501; cf. Walch, V. 685: "If thou wilt rightly indicate what sin is, then must thou say that all is sin that is born of a father and mother."
{11} op. cit., p. 66; cf. supra, p. 145.
{12} op. cit., pp. 307, 112.
{13} Erlangen ed., XXVII, 191.
{14} De servo arb. (Weimar ed., XVIII, 643): Si poteritis in tanta serie seculorum . . . ostendere unum opus . . . quo vel applicuerunt se ad gratiam vel quo meruerunt spiritum vel quo impetrarunt veniam vel quo aliquid cum Deo egerunt quantumvis modiculum (taceo, quo sanctificati sint), iterum victores vos estote et nos victi. Cf. ibid., p. 754.
{15} Weimar ed., V, 395; cf. a passage in Köstlin, II, 180: Significat fides fiduciam misericordiae propter Christum donatae, qua fiducia statuimus nobis remitti peccata propter filium Dei, victimam et mediatorem.
{16} Walch, XII, 284; cf. ibid., p. 193. Luther, of course, upholds pure doctrine and regards it even as more important than goodness of life. "There must be no tampering with doctrine; it must remain pure and right, but we are not so strict about life; for we see in the Gospel that Christ is patient with His disciples and winks at their gross failings" (Walch, III, 264; cf. II, 3008).
{17} De servo arb., Weimar ed., XVIII, 769; Erlangen ed., XXVII, 180; cf. Gass, II, 29: "What is subjective becomes true and objective."
{18} Cf. also Döllinger, Die Reformation, III, 62, 67, 294.
{19} Köstlin, II, 218, etc. According to Döllinger (p. 331), it was stated in a colloquy, of the year 1546, that Protestants universally taught certainty of salvation to include eternal happiness. Loofs (Leitf. der Dogmengeschichte, 4th ed., p. 768, etc.), says that this was Luther's doctrine, but acknowledges that it is obscure and indefinite. The Heidelberg Catechism, in answer to the question, What is true faith? replies: "It is not only a kind of perception, by which I accept as true whatever God has revealed to us in His word, but it is also a hearty confidence, produced in me by the Holy Ghost through the Gospel, that not only others, hut also I myself, have received from God forgiveness of sins, eternal justice, and happiness; God having bestowed these favours from pure grace, for the sake of Christ's merits."
{20} Walch, XIII, 1361. Our ultimate happiness depends, not upon our own actions, but "upon the works of another, Jesus Christ, our Saviour, which we acquire only through faith in Him" (Walch, XI, 26, 25).
{21} Döllinger, op. cit., p. 91.
{22} Loofs remarks (op. cit., p. 777) that as late as 1519 Luther acknowledged the necessity of the law for the moral conduct and direction of the just, but subsequently "his uncertainty with regard to the necessitas debiti bonorum operum" made it more difficult for him to recognize this necessity.
{23} Walch, XIV, 114.
{24} Ibid., XI, 2594; Erlangen ed., XXVII, 190.
{25} See Döllinger, p. 92, etc.; Köstlin, II, 204.
{26} Supra, pp. 22, seq.
{27} Weimar ed., XII, 270.
{28} Walch, XI, 1897.
{29} Ibid., V, 1682.
{30} Ibid., VIII, 2730. Ibid., XIX, 69.
{31} Weimar ed., XII, 372, etc., 516; XVIII, 485, 487; Braun, pp. 112, 311.
{32} See infra, Chap. V.
{33} Weimar ed., XII, 314.
{34} Walch, VIII, 979. Sin remains even in a saint. "Nothing is wanting to its being genuine sin, except the fact that it cannot inculpate and condemn us" (Ibid., V, 737, etc.).
{35} Köstlin, II, 200; cf. Walch, VIII, 2054: "A Christian is at the same time justified and a sinner; he loves and calls upon God, and also is angry and murmurs against Him. No sophist would admit that these things can be true at the same time.
{36} Walch, XI, 3051.
{37} Ibid., VI, 548.
{38} In Gal. (ed. Irmischer), I, 192.
{39} Erlangen ed., op. exeg., III, 302.
{40} Weimar ed., XII, 652, etc.
{41} Weimar ed., VII, 69; cf. XII, 661, 683. Elsewhere we find the antithesis: "Within is faith, without is charity or good works." Denifle, Luther und Luthertum, 2d ed., I, 72; cf. also infra, pp. 186, seq.
{42} III, 115. Cf. especially the words: "The kingdom of Christ is nothing but absolute forgiveness, which is concerned only with sins, continually wiping them out, covering and cleansing them, as long as we live here" (p. 136). Cf. Weimar ed., XII, 516, etc.
{43} Braun, p. 112.
{44} Dogmengesch., 4th ed., III, 888.
{45} Cf. also Köstlin, IT, 197, etc.
{46} Weimar ed., XVIII, 754; cf. Köstlin, II, 205, etc.
{47} Sulze (Christi. Welt, 1907, 933) finds that too little importance is attached to freedom in Luther's doctrine of justification. "Morality is action, not a natural product. Religion which does not gain strength in unwearied effort is Quietism. This was a peculiarity of Lutheranism."
{48} Cf. Döllinger, III, 52, seq.
{49} Cf. infra, p. 254.
{50} Weimar ed., XVIII, 769.
{51} Cf. the passage quoted by Döllinger, III, 238; cf. Denifle, 2d ed., I. 720, etc.
{52} In another place Luther extols faith as giving honour to God, ascribing to Him "truth and all goodness," just as we honour a man whose sincerity we recognize. But I would show greater honour to one by loving him for his entire character than by merely esteeming him for his sincerity. Thus adoring love gives God the greatest honour, because it not only ascribes to Him "all goodness," but feels in the depths of its being that this is true.
{53} Deutsche Schriften, p. 46; cf. Döllinger's statement, supra, p. 25.
{54} Das Wesen des Christentums, p. 180.
{55} The remarks made by secular authors on the effects of Luther's doctrine of justification are not without interest. Henry Drummond, for instance, says in "The Greatest Thing in the World," 1890, p. 55: "I was not told when I was a boy that God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should have everlasting life. What I was told, I remember, was that God so loved the world that, if I trusted in Him, I was to have a thing called peace, or I was to have rest, or I was to have joy, or I was to have safety. . . . Many of the current gospels are addressed only to a part of man's nature. They offer peace, not life; faith, not love; justification, not regeneration. And men slip back again from such religion, because it has never really held them; their nature was not all in it."
{56} Luther makes a strange but characteristic remark about the saints when he says: "I am glad that the saints stick in the mud like ourselves" (Weimar ed., XXIV, 518).