Philip Melanchthon and the English Reformation

John Schofield

• Publisher: Taylor & Francis
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN: 9780754655671
• eBook ISBN: 9781351911474
• Edition: 1
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: World History
• Index: History

This book explores the hitherto neglected relationship between the English Reformation and the Lutheran scholar Philip Melanchthon (1497-1560). It looks at how Henry, following his break with Rome, flirted with Lutheranism as a doctrine to replace Catholicism, before the eventual collapse of the policy and its replacement with a more moderate reform programme under Cranmer. It then goes on to investigate how Melanchthon, as the leading proponent of Lutheranism influenced successive royal governments, both positively and negatively, as they struggled to impose their own brand of doctrinal conformity on the English church. By refracting the well known narrative of the English Reformation through the lens of Melanchthon, new light is shed on many events that have puzzled historians. The study provides fascinating new perspectives on such questions as why Henry suddenly abandoned his Lutheran policy, why Cromwell fell from power in 1540 and even insights into Elizabeth's personal beliefs. By tying events in England into the context of the wider European Reformation, through the work of Philip Melanchthon, this book offers fresh insights into the nature and development of early evangelical Protestantism.

PART 1
The Evangelical Humanist

CHAPTER ONE
War over the Sacraments

The attractive village of Bretten, nestling in lush, fertile countryside in the Kraichgau Valley, was renowned in the late medieval age for its fine wine and the warmth, humanity and goodness of its citizens. One of them was George Schwarzerd, a skilled maker of armour, used even by kings in battle. Elector Philip of the Palatinate, in whose territory Bretten lay, was impressed with George’s services, and negotiated a marriage for him to Barbara Reuter, daughter of a notable local resident. George and Barbara married at Spires, with many knights attending the wedding. The first child was born to this godly couple in February 1497, and his parents named him Philip, after the Elector. But this family, like so many of that time, was no stranger to bereavement, and when Philip was only 11, his father died after drinking water from a poisoned well. Before passing away, he called his children to his bedside and commended them to the care of their Father in heaven. ‘I have seen many and great changes in the world’, he told them, ‘but greater ones are yet to follow. May God guide and lead you. Fear God, and do right.’¹

Young Philip did not follow his father’s trade as a craftsman. His genetic make-up seems to have owed more to influences from his mother’s side of the family, for the Reuters were related to the famous humanist, John Reuchlin. Reuchlin had been educated at Paris, Basle, Orleans and Poitiers. Like many humanists, he visited Italy frequently. At the age of 20 he had published a Latin dictionary. He was a devout scholar of Latin and Greek and also, though not until he was 40, Hebrew, a language he came to love dearly. Few if any Christian scholars before Reuchlin were great Hebraists. He was a pious Catholic, but critical of church abuses and what he considered to be the ignorance of monks. Though young Philip Schwarzerd received his earliest education at the town school, he was later taught at home by John Unger, a teacher appointed on the recommendation of Reuchlin. Later, when Philip’s grandfather also died, his grandmother (Reuchlin’s sister) brought him to Pforzheim, where he came more and more under Reuchlin’s influence, tutored by men of the Reuchlin school. Philip advanced rapidly in Latin, Greek and philosophy, including reading Aristotle from the original Greek. So impressed was Reuchlin with the gifted boy’s spectacular progress, especially in Greek, that he decided to give him a new name, which he would use for the rest of his life – Philip Melanchthon (Greek for Schwarzerd, black earth).²

Later, at Heidelberg University, Philip read the scholastic theologians and – somewhat more to his liking – literature, philosophy and science. In June 1511 he became Bachelor of Liberal Arts. His application to study for the Masters degree was refused by the university authorities, ostensibly because he was too young. Disappointed but not deterred, Philip left Heidelberg for Tübingen to take his MA, and continue his humanist studies ever more earnestly. Philip was now reading widely, including Aristotle, Homer, Virgil, Terence and Cicero, and also Hebrew and theology. His interest in theology was growing, but it was not the scholastic kind. Instead he became influenced by the writings of the fifteenth century scholar and theologian John Wesel, who had expressed some rather dangerous ideas for his time: he saw the church as a communion of all those united with Christ rather than an institution for dispensing the sacraments; he held that vows were not binding, and that indulgences were powerless. A touching anecdote survives of Philip’s own unconventional religious piety as a university student. One day he received a gift from Reuchlin, a Latin Bible, which he loved and treasured, and would often read it surreptitiously during church services when he was supposed to be listening to the sermon. Another interesting aspect of Melanchthon’s character was remarked on during his time at Tübingen: whenever disputes arose over theology or philosophy, Philip instinctively sought to reconcile the disputing parties rather than join in on one side or the other.

Altogether Melanchthon spent a fruitful time at Tübingen. He successfully completed his Masters degree in 1514, some of his work on the classics was published, and he had the opportunity to teach Greek grammar and literature to younger students. He also came to the attention of Erasmus and won his praise, an accolade that any young humanist scholar could rightly be proud of.³

Apart from his conciliatory spirit, a brief look at Melanchthon’s chief interests may provide more clues to his character and outlook. The full range of humanist studies appealed to him, especially Greek philosophy, education, tragedy and comedy, and also the beginning and development of comedy in Rome. He was particularly attracted to the works of Terence. According to his second century biographer Seutonius, Terence was born in Carthage, then bought as a slave by Senator Terentius Lucanus, who gave him a good education and eventually his freedom. Modern scholars have questioned this story, but be that as it may, it is generally agreed that Terence wrote his plays around 166–160 BC. This was a time of intense Roman interest in Greek culture and civilisation, but also a certain tension between Greek and Roman ethics. Terence was and remains renowned for refinement, elegance and a measured philosophical tone, and his works won the praise of Caesar and Cicero. Melanchthon had come to see Terence as a cultural bridge between the Greeks and the Latins. Enthusiastic young humanist that he was, Philip now believed that he could detect a unity of purpose in classical literature, beginning with Homer, another ancient writer he greatly admired. Philip saw this purpose as being to provide a model of upright living and an inspiration to virtue. The wisdom and culture of the Greeks, he believed, had been passed on to the Latins significantly through the medium of Terence.⁴

However, Tübingen was not always favourable to humanist idealism, and Melanchthon was seeking new worlds as well as thinking high thoughts. As we have reached a very significant year – 1517 – we will leave Philip for a while and travel north to Electoral Saxony. There in the University of Wittenberg, Martin Luther – Professor of theology and devout Augustinian monk – was going through a deep spiritual crisis. He had steadily grown tired of the medieval scholastic theologians, with their theories about free will contributing towards salvation, and he no longer believed that the human heart could do anything to prepare itself for divine grace. Without fully realising the significance of what he was doing and where he was going, he became increasingly disturbed not just by individual pieces of dogma, but by the whole medieval system of penance. It seemed to Luther like a practice through which the sinner could make bargains with God, thus cheapening grace.⁵

As if to fuel these rebellious thoughts, the system of indulgences had become very topical. This requires a word of explanation. Anyone who sinned and repented would be received back into full fellowship of the church after performing acts of penance, sometimes called ‘satisfactions’, prescribed by the church. He might also expect some temporal punishment for his sins. Examples of satisfactions included giving alms, good works, prayers and such like. If the penance remained incomplete when the penitent died, then a concentrated dose of purification treatment awaited him in purgatory. An indulgence could reduce not only the penitential acts prescribed by church, but also the temporal punishment and even the pains of purgatory as well. The pope had authority over indulgences because he dispensed the church’s ‘treasury of merit’ – these were the excess merits of Christ and the saints, which the penitent could draw upon if need be. Only the pope could grant a plenary (a full) indulgence, though bishops and cardinals could grant more limited ones. Naturally certain requirements had to be met before an indulgence could be granted: the penitent was expected to be contrite, to say prayers and attend mass, maybe perform a devotional act like a pilgrimage, or give alms. However – and this was becoming increasingly common – he could also make a payment. Over the years, indulgences had become a business and a lucrative source of income – church buildings and even crusades were financed by them – but complaints about abuses were growing as well. It should be added, however, than many indulgences followed requests to Rome and did not originate with the pope. Obviously kings saw the opportunity to exploit the system and negotiate a share of payments for themselves.⁶

In 1515, Pope Leo X had issued a plenary indulgence designed to fund the new, extravagant St Peter’s basilica in Rome. The previous year the 24-year-old Albrecht of Brandenburg had been elected archbishop of Mainz and primate of Germany, largely because of his connections and influence in ruling circles. He was the third occupant of that see, now heavily in debt, in ten years. This appointment was problematic in two ways. Albrecht was not only officially too young for episcopal office, he was also archbishop of Magdeburg and administrator of the diocese of Halberstadt, and multiple offices were forbidden under ecclesiastical law. However, these difficulties could be overcome by a papal dispensation and a suitable fee – and the fee in this case was 21 000 ducats. The Fugger banking house then put up the money and negotiated the deal under which Albrecht would permit the sale of St Peter’s indulgences in his church provinces, with proceeds being shared between Rome and Fuggers. This way the pope would get the money for his cathedral, and Fuggers would be handsomely repaid for its loan. The expected profit was a princely 52 286 ducats. An exact conversion of ducats into sterling or euros may be impractical; but some idea of the money involved in contemporary currency is possible from the fact that the annual salary of a country priest in the early sixteenth century was about 25 ducats. Supposing, therefore, that the salary of a modern vicar were 20 000 pounds sterling per annum, then the papal dispensation and the anticipated profit would amount to around 17 and 40 million pounds respectively.⁷

By 1517 the indulgence traffic was thriving, backed up by a sustained campaign of preaching and propaganda. Indulgence preachers, confessors and sub-commissioners were appointed, and the Dominican John Tetzel was made general sub-commissionary. Remission was promised for almost all sins, and monetary payments were specified for all classes of people from kings to townsfolk. All sermons had to preach the indulgence message, and all other indulgences were suspended in favour of this one. Week after week people were bombarded with promises of salvation through indulgences. Even souls in purgatory, preachers assured their congregations, could escape their torments when a payment was made. Tetzel carried out his duties zealously, and was handsomely paid for doing so.⁸

The whole thing was a racket, but while some were offended, many others were convinced. Because Elector Frederick the Wise refused to allow the sale of indulgences in Electoral Saxony, citizens of Wittenberg rushed to nearby Jüterbog, in the territory of the archbishopric of Magdeburg, to get an indulgence letter there instead. They then returned home expecting Luther, their pastor, to absolve them without their needing to do much penance or improve their lives in any significant way. Luther was not aware until later of the business details negotiated between Albrecht, Fuggers and the papacy, which may have been just as well. For the time being, Luther was more concerned with the theological aspect of indulgences. He objected to them because they cheapened grace, and made his people fear the punishment for sin, but not the sin itself. Real repentance should be lifelong, Luther believed, not something accomplished at a stroke by a mere payment. Luther was not (yet) against indulgences completely, and he still clung to the medieval view that they were gifts obtained through the merits of Christ and the saints. However, they were of value only to the truly contrite, and herein lay the difficulty: for those who are truly sorry for their sins neither need nor seek an indulgence, and should be prepared to suffer humbly before God. What, therefore, was the point of an indulgence at all? People expected an indulgence to guarantee them automatic entry into heaven, but indulgences do not remove the sinful nature or increase love and virtue.⁹

So here was the dilemma. Luther could not – yet – condemn indulgences outright because he was still a good, pious, conscientious Catholic. But in this stage of his career he was preoccupied with human sin, God’s holiness, and the need for suffering and humility in repentance, and indulgences were making penance and salvation far too easy. So Luther wrote a devout letter to Albrecht on the 31 October 1517. He expressed his fears that the people had a mistaken understanding of indulgences, and were abusing them and taking penance too casually. He humbly asked Albrecht to rescind the indulgence instructions under ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Table of Contents
• Preface
• Acknowledgements
• Abbreviations
• Terminology
• Glossary
• Part 1   The Evangelical Humanist
• Part 2 Melanchthon and King Henry VIII
• Part 3 Melanchthon and Henry’s Successors
• Appendix: Melanchthon and the Real Presence
• Bibliography
• Index