Acknowledgments
my work on this volume has, with frequent interruptions, spanned the greater part of seven years. As it now draws to a close, my dominant sentiment is gratitude:
—to all friends and colleagues who, contrary to the prevailing spirit of the age, encourage and support this kind of work in the humanities and liberal arts;
—to my home institution, Loyola University New Orleans, for giving me everything I needed to pursue the outrageously privileged life of a scholar;
—to Oxford University Press editor Cynthia Read, for her boundless patience and astute counsel;
—to the Tantur Institute for Theological Studies in Jerusalem, which, under the leadership of Timothy Lowe, welcomed me into its superb work environment for a month in 2011;
—to the Johannes a Lasco Library in Emden, Germany, which, under the leadership of Dr. J. Marius J. Lange van Ravenswaay, made possible a most pleasant and productive writing retreat for a month in 2015;
—to the Fondazione per le Scienze Religiose Giovanni XXIII in Bologna, which, under the leadership of Prof. Alberto Melloni (and Dr. Davide Dainese), opened its outstanding library to me for a month in 2016.
Blessed is the translator/researcher/writer who has access to such resources and is the recipient of such kindness!
Further on the subject of my personal beatitude: it may seem to some that translating a five-hundred-year-old book from a dead language would be a lonely and melancholy undertaking. Actually it brought me a kind of quiet contentment, and even luminous moments of delight on occasion. But of course this was a weak glimmer compared to the dazzling sunshine that four grandchildren can beam into one’s life. They may never read this, but they should know that their contribution to my happiness was immense. It is to them that I dedicate this work.
Denis R. Janz
New Orleans
June 2018
Abbreviations
All biblical references are abbreviated as recommended by the Society of Biblical Literature and the Chicago Manual of Style, 17th ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2017). References to Luther’s writings are from LW, except in the case of writings not included in that edition; for these, the WA reference is given. References to Thomas Aquinas’s writings are to L, except for those not yet included in that edition; for these, the Vivès reference is given. Unless otherwise specified, all translations are mine.
Aquinas SCG Thomas Aquinas. Summa contra Gentiles (in L 13–15). For an older but solid and accessible translation, see Saint Thomas Aquinas On the Truth of the Catholic Faith. Edited by A. C. Pegis et al. 5 vols. New York: Doubleday, 1955.
Aquinas ST Thomas Aquinas. Summa theologiae (in L 4–12). For an excellent and accessible translation, see Summa theologiae. Edited by T. Gilby and T. C. O’Brien. 60 vols. London: Blackfriars, 1964–73.
Biel Canonis
Gabriel Biel. Canonis misse expositio. Edited by H. Oberman and W. Courtenay. 5 vols. Wiesbaden: Steiner Verlag, 1963–76. No translation available.
Biel Sent. Gabriel Biel. Collectorium circa quattuor libros Sententiarum Edited by W. Werbeck and U. Hofmann. 4 vols. in 5.
Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1973–92. No translation available. Brecht Martin Brecht. Martin Luther. 3 vols. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1985–93.
CCath Corpus Catholicorum: Werke katholischer Schriftsteller in Zeitalter der Glaubensspaltung. Münster: Aschendorff, 1919–.
CIC Corpus Iuris Canonici. Edited by A. L. Richter and E. Friedberg. 2 vols. Leipzig: B. Tauchnitz, 1879–81.
DCL Documente zur Causa Lutheri (1517–1521). Edited by Peter Fabisch and Erwin Iserloh. 2 vols. Münster: Aschendorff, 1988 and 1991.
DS
Enchiridion Symbolorum Definitionum et Declarationum de Rebus Fidei et Morum. Edited by H. Denzinger and A. Schönmetzer. 36th edition. Rome: Herder, 1976.
Handbook Denis Janz. The Westminster Handbook to Martin Luther Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010.
L Sancti Thomae Aquinatis doctoris angelici Opera omnia iussu Leonis XIII. Rome: Dominican Order, 1882–.
LDStA
Martin Luther: Lateinisch-Deutsche Studienausgabe. Edited by Wilfried Härle, Johannes Schilling, and Günther Wartenberg. 3 vols. Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 2006–8.
Lombard Sent. Petri Lombardi Sententiarum Libri Quatuor, in PL 192:519–963. For an excellent and accessible translation, see The Sentences, translated by G. Silano. 4 vols. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 2007–10
LW Luther’s Works (American Edition). 55 vols. St. Louis MO: Concordia and Philadelphia: Fortress, 1955–86.
PL Patrologia cursus completus, series latina. Edited by J. P. Migne. 217 vols. Paris: J. P. Migne, 1844–79.
StA Martin Luther: Studienausgabe. Edited by Hans Ulrich Delius. 6 vols. Berlin: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 1979–99.
Tanner Decrees of the Ecumenical Councils. Edited by Norman P. Tanner. 2 vols. Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 1990.
TRE Theologische Realenzyklopädie. Edited by G. Krause and G. Müller. 36 vols. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1977–2004.
Vivès Doctoris angelici divi Thomae Aquinatis sacri Ordinis F.F. Praedicatorum Opera omnia. 34 vols. Paris: Vivès, 1871–82.
WA D. Martin Luthers Werke: Kritische Gesamtausgabe, Schriften. 84 vols. Weimar: Böhlau, 1883–.
WABr D. Martin Luthers Werke: Kritische Gesamtausgabe, Briefwechsel. 18 vols. Weimar: Böhlau, 1930–85.
WADB D. Martin Luthers Werke: Kritische Gesamtausgabe, Deutsche Bibel. 12 vols. Weimar: Böhlau, 1906–61.
WATr D. Martin Luthers Werke: Kritische Gesamtausgabe, Tischreden. 6 vols. Weimar: Böhlau, 1912–21.
Introduction
Orientation
those who read books, as well as those who write them, face an irony in our postmodern cultural context. Pundits of every sort, above all futurologists and antiquarians, predict the imminent demise of the material artifact you now hold in your hands. With the ascendance of alternative forms of reading, the printed book seems to be coming to the end of its three-thousand-year history. Why then would a forward-thinking person read, or leaf through, or consult, or write a book like this one? After all, it is a book about a book: Is this not obsolescence squared? Two convictions convinced me to sidestep this challenge, at least for the time being. I hope that readers will find them plausible.
First, the book, which is our subject matter, is a difficult one for almost all readers today. Luther wrote it in Latin—a language that no more than 5 percent of us read fluently. And existing translations are deficient in various ways. The new translation offered here is an attempt to remedy this situation. Even fewer among us have any grasp whatsoever of Luther’s intellectual context, that is, the late-medieval theological scene in which he was educated and against which he reacted. This book introduces readers to these subjects, indispensable for understanding what Luther wrote and why.
Second, to legitimately claim our attention, Luther’s book must have had an extraordinary importance. Did it? Luther, most would agree, was a towering figure standing at the crossroads of the medieval and modern worlds. And we could all agree that he was influential (though we may well differ on the nature of this influence). His efforts to shape the events in question were mediated above all through writing. So we might ask, of the many books he wrote, which had the most powerful impact? Different specialists would no doubt be able to make a somewhat convincing case for this or that candidate, for example: The Small Catechism, The Freedom of a Christian, The Bondage of the Will, To the Christian Nobility, and others. Perhaps the most persuasive case could be made for another nominee, namely The Church Held Captive in Babylon: A Prelude
To make this case, yet another lengthy book would be needed, but that is not my purpose here. In its most basic outline, the argument would likely be based on the following pillars. First, the Roman church (as prelates and theologians
called it) was by far the most important institution in the medieval West. Whether our historical interest is political or social or economic or military or religious or aesthetic, all our study of this era ends up pointing to the influence of the church.
Second, the lifeblood of this institution, certainly by 1300, was the sacramental system. Roughly a century earlier, a consensus had been reached on precisely which rituals would have the status of sacraments. Much thought was subsequently given to the graces mediated by each of the seven, and how this mediation worked in each case. By the late thirteenth century, this “system” of salvation was in place, and almost all religious life had this as its center. It remained an integral and indispensable part of the Christian worldview, almost entirely unchallenged, until the early sixteenth century.
Third, in 1520 Luther’s The Church Held Captive in Babylon: A Prelude appeared: its purpose was to curb the Roman church’s power by deconstructing its sacramental system. The nature of the deconstruction Luther called for was disputed at the time, and has been ever since. Was it a well-thought-out, surgically precise dissection? Or was it more of a demolition—a wreckingball-and-dumpster approach? Or was it a little of both? Obviously any credible answer must be based on a close reading of The Church Held Captive
We can dispute Luther’s methods, but most will agree that the scope of Luther’s challenge to the Roman church was unprecedented. And we all know what transpired: medieval Christendom was shaken to its core, and the unity of the Christian West fractured. All of this points to the extraordinary importance of the book being studied here. It would be foolish to suggest that one book singlehandedly unleashed these momentous developments. But any explanation that leaves out this particular book would be equally implausible.
The Growth of Luther’s New Ecclesiology: From Ecclesia Sacramentorum to Ecclesia Verbi
The great twentieth-century Luther scholar Martin Brecht summarized the importance of The Church Held Captive in this way: here is where Luther “demolished the church as a sacramental institution.”1 Clearly this stark assertion oversimplifies the matter. It would be more precise to say that this book was Luther’s attempt to free the church from its forced imprisonment by dismantling the late medieval sacramental system. And this radical deconstruction was based on a “new” ecclesiology—one that emphasized the primacy of 1. Brecht 1:384.
the word of God and also undermined and sharply downgraded papal authority. But this formulation, too, must be qualified.
For one thing, what I refer to as a “new” ecclesiology was not as novel as it sometimes seems. Ample precedents are to be found in minority voices in the tradition. Luther was not the first to understand the church as an ecclesia verbi or to challenge papal power. His “new” idea did not descend instantaneously in a lightning bolt of revelation from on high. We are dealing here with a gradual development. To understand this slow maturation and its nuance, we must go back to Luther, the neophyte theologian, and reconstruct his evolving insights as best we can.
Beginnings
Until 1517 Luther, the sincere Augustinian friar and novice lecturer on Scripture, showed virtually no interest in a theological analysis of the church.2 Nowhere does he criticize the church hierarchy or papacy in his first lectures on the Psalms (1513–15). In his lectures on Romans (1515–18) he mentions the “filthy corruption of the entire curia,”3 but this is more of a marginal aside than a sustained critique. And he shows no interest in the ecclesiology of his favorite scholastic authorities: Occam, d’Ailly, Gerson, or Biel. What we find in the young Luther are, at most, hints of what is to come. For instance, in the early Psalms lectures Luther distinguishes the “spiritual church” from the “bodily assembly,”4 and asserts that Cyprian’s principle “No salvation outside of the church” refers to the church as a “spiritual assembly.”5 Likewise we see Luther occasionally emphasizing the centrality and authority of the word of God.6 The one recurring point, perhaps, is that the church’s pastoral duty is to provide access to the word of God, to preach it faithfully to the laity.7 But even all of this taken together does not amount to an ecclesiology. What interested Luther at this early stage was lecturing on the Psalms and the
2. For details, see Bernhard Lohse, Martin Luther’s Theology: Its Historical and Systematic Development (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1999), 63–67, 80–84; and Scott Hendrix, Luther and the Papacy: Stages in a Reformation Conflict (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981), 1–21.
3. LW 25:472–73
4. LW 11:229.
5. Ibid., 372.
6. E.g., LW 25:238.
7. WA 1:10–17. Cf. WA 4:353, 5–29; and WA 57:3, 108, 17–109, 2.
Pauline letters, preaching, and critiquing the scholastic style of theology he had been trained in.8
It was above all his pastoral instincts that moved Luther in 1517 to launch an attack on the theory and practice of indulgence selling.9 In his Ninety-five Theses issued that October, neither the church as such nor papal power were his primary concern. And yet, embedded in the list were assertions that traditionalist theologians found provocative and that hinted at, foreshadowed, a new understanding of the church. First, a good number of theses suggested there was at least a tension between certain church teachings and what is found in Scripture (e.g., theses 1, 2, 18, 62, 78, 95). Second, some theses intimate that papal power is exaggerated by those who suggest that the pope has direct jurisdiction over purgatory (e.g., theses 5, 10, 22, 27). And clerical power is exaggerated by those who suggest that in granting absolution, clergy actually remit guilt and, in this sense, “forgive” sins (e.g., theses 6, 20, 21, 33). Finally too, these theses are ecclesiologically suggestive in their noteworthy emphasis on the laity who deserve to be taught the truth (theses 42–51), who ask very pointed questions of church leaders (theses 82–89), whom the clergy dare not ignore (thesis 90), and who have “rights” to the church’s “treasures” (theses 36, 37, 62, 68).10 But again, none of these things were uppermost in Luther’s consciousness as he composed his theses: for him the neuralgic issue was that of indulgences and their negative impact on the spiritual lives of Christians. It was his opponents in the following years who changed his mind on this score.
Luther must have been astonished at the wave of opposition elicited by his indulgence disputation theses, which included widespread warning and denunciation on the political front. And ecclesiastical authorities set in motion the Roman curial process by which he was condemned in 1520 and excommunicated in 1521. More interesting in our context was the literary reaction. Almost immediately after the theses were issued in late October 1517, a whole succession of opponents took up the pen against Luther, and this enterprise continued long after 1520 when Luther wrote his The Church Held Captive. These writers differed with each other in many ways. Some attacked, some cajoled, some denounced, some scolded, some argued, and so forth. Some were highly intelligent, competent, and conscientious theologians. Some were
8. See, e.g., his 1517 Disputation Against Scholastic Theology in LW 31:9–16.
9. See his letter to Albert of Mainz from October 31, 1517 (WABr 1:112, 53–60; trans. in LW 48:48–49).
10. LW 31:25–33.
good writers, others wrote drivel. Some limited themselves to one scorching pamphlet, while others made a career of it. What they had in common was that they were all coming to the defense of what they understood to be the teaching of the Roman church. And in large measure they also shared a common theological orientation. The majority of these theologians were members of the Dominican Order, and thus Thomists. Even some who were not Dominicans were representatives of the via Thomae in the deeply divided theological landscape on the eve of the Reformation.11
In what follows, it will be important to pay close attention to this literature. Why? Because for almost three years Luther read it, learned from it, and reacted to it. As we shall see, by mid-1520 he was convinced that he could discern in these writings the outlines of a “Thomist” ecclesiology. And it was on this anvil that he hammered out his own “new” ecclesiology.
1518
The first wave of opposition in 1518 was initiated by Konrad Wimpina (1460–1531).12 Though he was not a Dominican, Wimpina in his student years at Leipzig came under the heavy influences of not only Thomas Aquinas but also the most prominent of the fifteenth-century Thomists, Johannes Capreolus, OP. At the University of Frankfurt in early January 1518, Wimpina composed a response to Luther’s Ninety-five Theses titled Quo veritas pateat . . . , but more often referred to as the Wimpina-Tetzel One Hundred and Six Frankfurt Theses.13 Just as Luther’s Ninety-five Theses were wide-ranging, so too was this set. But if we single out those that impinge directly on ecclesiology, we can say that Wimpina wanted to insist on two points.
The first is that papal power is greater than Luther is willing to admit. Popes can not only reduce works of satisfaction they have imposed, but they can also remit punishment for sin (theses 7 and 8). When they issue a plenary
11. Over the last half century, a massive literature has been generated on Luther’s scholastic background. See, e.g., Heiko Oberman, Werden und Wertung der Reformation: Vom Wegestreit zum Glaubenskampf (Tübingen: Mohr, 1977); Denis Janz, Luther and Late Medieval Thomism: A Study in Theological Anthropology (Waterloo, ON: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 1983); Janz, “Toward a Definition of Late Medieval Augustinianism,” Thomist 44 (1980): 117–27; and Janz, “Luther and Late Medieval Albertism,” Ephemerides Theologicae Lovaniensis 72 (1996): 338–48.
12. The most recent full-length study is Joseph Negwer, Konrad Wimpina: Ein katholischer Theologe aus der Reformationszeit (Breslau: Aderholz, 1909).
13. These were reprinted in Wimpina’s 1528 book Anacephalaiosis Sectarum errorum, where Wimpina also laid claim to having been Luther’s earliest opponent. The standard edition today is found in DCL 1:321–37.
indulgence, they understand this to cover more than merely the satisfaction (theses 26–29). The grace of indulgences extends to punishments inflicted by God (thesis 41). The second main point is that priestly power is greater than Luther is willing to admit. When priests absolve in the sacrament of penance, this absolution is not merely confirmative or declarative: it truly remits (theses 10–12), and guilt is truly absolved (thesis 19). Moreover, the works of satisfaction that they impose apply even to the dead (thesis 21): in the sacrament the priest administers the divine punishment (thesis 4). In other words, Wimpina asserts that the power of pope and priests extends in an immediate, direct, and literal way into the afterlife.
These disputation theses were defended by John Tetzel, OP, at the University of Frankfurt on January 20, 1518. Tetzel had been appointed indulgence preacher for the church province of Magdeburg a year earlier, and Luther knew of him, at least by reputation. In February, Luther published his Sermon on Indulgences and Grace, and he closed this work with a denunciation of Tetzel.14 Then, in March, printed copies of the Wimpina-Tetzel One Hundred and Six Frankfurt Theses arrived in Wittenberg.15 In April, Tetzel replied to Luther’s Sermon with a Refutation, which Luther abruptly dismissed as “an unequaled example of stupidity.”16 Simultaneously Tetzel was composing another attack, his Fifty Frankfurt Theses.17 This can be regarded as Tetzel’s final position: he was at long last promoted to the doctoral degree at Frankfurt in late 1518, and he died the following year. So a closer look at this last text is in order.
Each of the Fifty Frankfurt Theses begins with the words “Christians should be taught . . . ” in imitation of some of Luther’s Ninety-five Theses. The important issue for Tetzel is not that of indulgences: only one thesis (out of fifty) deals with this. Nor is the interpretation of the biblical text on the “keys” (Matt. 16:19) a big problem: again, this is dealt with in one thesis. Rather, in his view, the real issue is papal power. The first thesis states that “papal power is supreme in the church and was instituted by God alone.”18 Eight theses expand on this theme, and then four more attack those who dishonor the pope in any way. Six theses deal with “Catholic truth,” what it is, and who defines it. And
14. WA 1:246, 31–38.
15. DCL 1:314.
16. The title of Tetzel’s work is Vorlegung gemacht wyder eynen vormessenen sermon von twentzig irrigem artikeln bebstliche ablas und gnade belangende (in DCL 1:340–63). For Luther’s judgment, see WABr 1:180, 20–21; cf. DCL 1:340.
17. The original title of this work is Subscriptas Positiones F. Johannes Tetzel ordinis Praedicatorum . . . (in DCL 1:369–75).
18. DCL 1:369.
finally then, no less than thirty theses deal with heresy. Tetzel, who as Inquisitor of Heretical Pravity, no doubt saw himself as something of an expert on this, mentions many varieties of heresy, and expands the scope of what is to be regarded as heretical to include the slightest doubt about “Catholic truth,” otherwise known as papal teaching. Tetzel’s warning to Luther comes in his summation (thesis 50), and it is dire: “The beast who disturbs the mountain will be stoned” (Exod. 19:12–13).19
Luther received a copy of Tetzel’s text on June 4. Initially, it seems, Luther had regarded Tetzel’s Refutation as unworthy of a reply, but now, having seen Tetzel’s Fifty Frankfurt Theses, he changed his mind. In late June, Luther’s Freedom of the Sermon on Papal Indulgences and Grace was published, taking issue primarily with Tetzel’s Refutation and making only one puzzling comment on the Fifty Frankfurt Theses.20 Rising here to the defense of his Sermon on Indulgences and Grace, Luther now returned to the themes of penance, satisfaction, indulgences, the authority of the scholastics, and so forth. It is tempting to say at this point that Luther was studiously avoiding certain topics like the papacy and its power in the church.
In the meantime, a much more prominent and highly qualified opponent entered the controversy. Silvester Prierias, OP, (1456–1527) was a Dominican theologian, ardent Thomist, and author of a number of influential books.21 He was also an official of the Roman Curia—“Master of the Sacred Palace.” In this capacity he was asked to render a theological expert opinion on Luther’s Ninety-five Theses. His report bore the title Dialogue on Martin Luther’s Presumptuous Conclusions Regarding Papal Power; it was composed in three days and submitted in late May or early June 1518.22 It is important to recognize that what we are dealing with here is basically a treatise on ecclesiology. Although it is not comprehensive, nor systematically organized, nor particularly insightful, it is more about the church than anything else. And it is the first work on ecclesiology that we know for certain that Luther read.
Its title, to begin with, calls for two observations:23 First, what Luther had offered as theses for an academic disputation, that is, debatable theological
19. DCL 1:375.
20. WA 1:380–93. At the very end of this work, Luther mentions Tetzel’s theses and says that he regards them “for the most part” as true (WA 1:393, 18). Some scholars have taken this enigmatic statement as an ironic comment (DCL 1:364).
21. For a recent account, see Michael Tavuzzi, Prierias: The Life and Works of Silvestro Mazzolini da Prierio (1456–1527) (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1997).
22. The text is in DCL 1:52–107.
23. Tavuzzi, Prierias, 109–10.
opinions, Prierias takes as “conclusions”; and second, Prierias wants to insist that the real subject matter is the papacy. Thus the title in itself may have surprised Luther when he first saw it. On the other hand, Prierias’s concluding verdict—that Luther is a heretic—will have been no surprise.
Prierias begins by laying out four “fundamentals” on which his “expert opinion” is based. The first is a definition of ecclesia: “Essentially [essentialiter] the universal church is the assembly [convocation] in divine worship of all who believe in Christ. The true universal church virtually [virtualiter] is the Roman Church, the head of all churches, and the sovereign pontiff. The Roman Church is represented by [representative] the College of Cardinals; however, virtually [virtualiter] it is the pope who is the head of the Church, though in another manner than Christ.”24
The second fundamental takes up the question of inerrancy: the universal church is inerrant, the final decree of an authentic council cannot be in error, and the pope, when he exercises his office and does his best, cannot err.25 And, third, “he who does not hold the teaching of the Roman Church and the Pope as an infallible rule of faith [regula fidei infallibili], from which even Holy Scripture draws its power and authority [robur trahit et auctoritatem], he is a heretic.”26 And finally, matters having to do with faith and morals are defined by the church through words and through actions. Consequently, “as he is a heretic who wrongly interprets Scripture, so also is he a heretic who wrongly interprets the teaching and acts of the Church in so far as they relate to faith and ethics.”27 From these “fundamentals,” Prierias believed, the corollary follows: “He who says in regard to indulgences that the Roman Church cannot do what she has actually done is a heretic.”28 With that deduction, Prierias returned from ecclesiological abstractions to the matter at hand: Luther’s Ninety-five Theses were heretical.
The second part of Prierias’s Dialogue led readers step-by-step through the particulars of Luther’s disputation theses. The net result, in Jared Wicks’s
24. Trans. in Tavuzzi, Prierias, 111. This definition relies heavily on Johannes de Turrecremata, OP, (1388–1468) and on Aquinas (Aquinas ST: 2a2ae, 1, 10; L 8:23–24). See also DCL 1:53, nn. 7 and 8.
25. DCL 1:54. Cf Tavuzzi, Prierias, 111.
26. DCL 1:55. Trans. in Tavuzzi, Prierias, 111. Here too Prierias cites Aquinas ST: 2a2ae, 1:10 (L 8:23–24) in support. Later, commenting on Luther’s 56th thesis, Prierias argues that “the authority of the Roman church and the Roman pontiff” is greater than [que maior est] that of Scripture (DCL 1:92).
27. DCL 1:55–56. Trans. in Tavuzzi, Prierias, 111.
28. Ibid.
reckoning, was “(i) three assertions that Luther ‘thought wrongly’ about the practice of the church, (ii) six charges that Luther was derogating from papal authority, and (iii) five outright accusations that Luther was teaching heresy.”29 More salient for our purposes here are the contours and character of Prierias’s ecclesiology. Tavuzzi sums up what is today a widely held view, namely that Prierias’s thought “represents an early sixteenth century reformulation of a strongly papalist and anticonciliarist ecclesiological tradition that had been gradually elaborated during the two preceding centuries, especially by Dominican theologians.”30 To be even more specific, we can call Prierias’s ecclesiology a “Thomist” one: throughout his work, from start to finish, Prierias presents his ideas as dependent on Thomas.
Luther received a copy of Prierias’s Dialogue on August 7, 1518.31 He quickly produced a reply (in two days, he said)32: Response to Silvester Prierias’ Dialogue on the Power of the Pope.33 It is diffuse and disorganized, but it shows that Luther had at this stage already given some serious thought to ecclesiological foundations and definitions, what Prierias had called “fundamentals.” Luther begins by saying that he will ignore Prierias’s fundamentals because they are more confusing than clarifying. Rather he will offer three of his own. The first one is to “test everything and hold on to what is good” (1 Thess. 5:21; cf. Gal. 1:8). The second is Augustine’s famous statement that only Scripture is inerrant. And the third is a citation from canon law prohibiting indulgence preachers from making amplified claims for their indulgences, which are not in the original letters of indulgence.34 These are the principles on which Luther bases his various disagreements with Prierias.
Somewhat unexpectedly then, he comes back to Prierias’s fundamentals later in his treatise. First, Luther rejects Prierias’s distinction between the church understood as “essentially,” “representatively,” and “virtually.” There is no basis is Scripture for this distinction, nor does Prierias adduce any reasons for it. Luther recognizes the “virtual” church only in Christ, and the “represented” church only in a council. Furthermore, Luther asks, if we must accept all “acts of the church,” does that include the horrors committed by popes in
29. Jared Wicks, “Roman Reactions to Luther: The First Year (1518),” Catholic Historical Review 69 (1983): 521–62, 530.
30. Tavuzzi, Prierias, 110.
31. WABr 1:192, 31–32.
32. WA 1:686, 28–30.
33. Ibid., 647–86. For an analysis, see Hendrix, Luther, 49–52; cf. DCL 1:42–44.
34. WA 1:647, 17–28.
the name of the church? All this is reason enough to reject Prierias’s “fundamentals.”35
Farther on, Luther returns to Prierias’s fundamentals, apparently confused by Prierias’s use of the term “rule of faith” [regula fidei]. Prierias calls the Roman church the rule of faith, whereas Luther has always believed that faith is the rule of the Roman church. Or, Luther asks, is this merely a disagreement over words? Maybe they actually agree that faith preserves the church and not vice versa. If so, Luther adds, “that would please me immensely.”36 There is a disconnect here: if we look back at Prierias’s third fundamental, we see that he asserts the superiority of the church to the rule of faith (see p. 8). This would become clear to Luther very soon.
All confusion notwithstanding, Luther’s Response to Prierias’s Dialogue was not Luther’s last word on the subject. Rather, it represents a beginning, a first step toward a thorough rethinking of conventional ecclesiology. It was a hasty first response to mainstream “Thomist” ways of thinking about the church, which were heartily endorsed by the Roman Curia. Prierias’s Dialogue thus helped Luther to see the ecclesiological implications of his Ninety-five Theses. And it represents a major catalyst in Luther’s inchoate thinking on the nature of the church.37
Luther’s Response, his initial foray into the theological subdiscipline of ecclesiology, was formulated in August 1518. In that same month he approached the subject from another angle, in his Latin Sermon on the Power of Excommunication.38 From the outset, Luther’s operative definition of “church” is clear: it is the “communion of the faithful” [communio fidelium].39 “Excommunication” means, of course, to be deprived of that communion.
35. Ibid., 656, 33–657, 3.
36. Ibid., 662, 24–31.
37. Scholars endorsing this view include Heiko Oberman, “Wittenbergs Zweifrontenkrieg gegen Prierias und Eck,” Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte 80 (1969): 331–58; and Carter Lindberg, “Prierias and his Significance for Luther’s Development,” Sixteenth Century Journal 3 (1972): 45–64. The Dialogue was by no means the end of Prierias’s engagement with Luther. But it was decisive. What followed from Prierias’s pen was largely repetitive: a Replica in August 1518 answering Luther’s Response; a 1520 work titled Martin Luther’s Erroneous Arguments Named, Exposed, Rejected, and Most Utterly Ground to Pieces; and also in 1520 an Epitome, which Luther republished with his own marginal comments (in WA 6:335–48). For further comments on these works, see David Bagchi, Luther’s Earliest Opponents: Catholic Controversialists, 1518–1525 (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991), 48–49.
38. WA 1:638–43. Luther delivered a sermon along these lines sometime before July 10, 1518. He felt that what he said had been distorted and unjustly criticized. Accordingly, he reconstructed that sermon in writing as best he could and published it on August 31.
39. E.g., WA 1:638, 28, and 639, 1–2.
But, Luther argues, there are two kinds of communion: one is inner and spiritual and has to do with one’s participation in one faith, one hope, and one love. The second type of communion is external and material and has to do with participation in the sacraments (which are signs of faith, hope, and love). As for the inner spiritual communion, only God can receive a person into it, and only that person can opt out of it. Nobody else can take it away from us; nobody in other words can separate us from the love of God, as St. Paul insisted in Romans 8:35–39.40
The Roman church’s excommunication is external and material: it deprives one of the sacraments and other external things such as Christian burial, and the like. It does not mean that a person is “given over to the devil,” or that a person is deprived of “the goods of the church.” Faith, hope, and love remain, and this is the “true communion” [vera communio].41 In other words, Luther continues, excommunication does not cause anything or effect anything or make anything happen, spiritually speaking. Still, it is not meaningless: if it is justified, it is a sign of something that has happened—that the individual has severed his or her participation in the communion. Moreover, its pastorally judicious application can help to restore the inner spiritual communion.42
Luther has more to say in this sermon about the Roman church’s practice of excommunication. But his “new” way of understanding it has important implications. For one thing, it allows him to think about “church” without sacraments. It challenges the view that God’s grace is bound to the sacraments. It challenges the spiritual power of those who control access to the sacraments. And thus it challenges one of the Roman church’s very powerful instruments of social control. Toward the end of this sermon Luther mentions another implication: his way of understanding excommunication means that one should not be afraid, even if you have to die without the sacraments. You will not be damned. Even the Roman church cannot separate us “from the love of God” (Rom. 8:35–39).43
The same August 1518 also saw the publication of Luther’s Explanations of the Ninety-five Theses. 44 Like all of his other publications from that year, this one was transitional. We see him here, for instance, struggling over the issue
40. Ibid., 639, 1–17.
41. Ibid. 639, 19–36.
42. Ibid., 640, 1–8.
43. Ibid., 643, 1–15. In December 1519 Luther preached on this subject in German and published it in 1520; see his Sermon on the Ban in LW 39:7–22.
44. LW 31:83–252.
