chapter one
Two Worlds Collide
Dr. Martin Luther testified twenty years after the fact, “I, Doctor Martin, was called and forced to become a doctor, against my will, from pure obedience, and had to accept a doctor’s teaching post, and promise and vow on my beloved holy scriptures to preach and teach them faithfully and sincerely.” “In the course of this teaching, the papacy slipped away from me.” Not only did his whole world fall apart, but two worlds had collided, and he was the ground of their collision. The collision resulted in almost unbearable terrors and anguish for him, the combination of which he called his “Anfechtungen.” (his terrors, his temptations, his spiritual anxieties)
There was a rupture of the times going on with Luther, says Oswald Bayer. It was a rupture located by the cross of Jesus Christ, whose cross called the old age to a absolute end, while ushering in the new. But when the new age is proclaimed, the old age rears its ugly head most violently. “Therefore, we learn from the gospel to know the devil rightly.” Says Luther “Luther’s understanding of evil provided him with the lens to perceive the world realistically. This realistic perspective distinguishes Luther sharply from the harmlessness of modern theologians of love . . . Luther’s life and work, contrary to what modern theologians of love think, is determined throughout by the trials and temptations (Anfechtungen) suffered and the hands of these enemies and by the fight against them.”
The direct positive result of the way in which he had had his vocation forced upon him, as lecturer of the Bible and preacher of the scripture, was the decisive certainty that it created in his utterance. First, he felt that the command of his superior in the Augustinian order to become a lecturer of divine scripture was God’s own calling, and that call required of him the duty to speak clearly and boldly what he himself found in scripture—even if it was against his monastic vows, or against the hierarchy of the church, or, in the most extreme case, against the received tradition of Church Councils. Second, his arduous labors to speak the word truthfully brought him to trust the warrant of that Word, alone. He was convinced that he had no other calling than to give proper utterance to the Word, as truthfully and candidly as he could. These two convictions shaped the very way he spoke. The decisive certainty with which he spoke was unprecedented, immediately felt, and powerful. This utterance brought upon him the accusation of immense hubris (who did he think he was, the only one in the history of the church who had received revelation?) and the undying enmity of the most awesome power of his day including the threat of death.
What brought him to this juncture, to this collision with received tradition? It all began with his original spiritual terror/crisis/temptation—what he called his Anfechtungen. He experienced a direct confrontation with imminent death and judgment in a frightening thunderstorm, during a trip home from school through open country. This led him to cry out to God (actually to Saint Anne) in terror, that if he were spared, he would become a monk. He summed it up later, “I wanted to escape hell by becoming a monk.” This vow he proceeded to fulfill with sober determination, against all the objections of both father and friends.
During his early years at the monastery he became familiar with the texts of scripture, memorizing virtually the entire psalm book. Additionally, he read most of Augustine’s work, and became familiar with mystical devotional literature. However, years of work on these things did nothing toward achieving his original goal of either peace of conscience or certainty of faith. The holier his way of life was in outward appearance, the more he despaired within himself. Instead of finding any certainty of salvation through increased personal and moral rigor, the reverse was happening. Now, he was not only tormented by uncertainty, but also by a growing anger toward God. And that exponentially compounded the guilt of his situation. He found no reason in himself not to despair at the thought of judgment.
The cause for this lay in the received teaching of the whole thought world of scholasticism, in which he had been led to trust. This received scholastic teaching included at least three axioms: that the Fall had left some parts of human heart still operative and unaffected including the will; that grace was a supposed possession imparted to the believer; and that the infusion of this grace was supposed to engender renewed human righteousness. Crucially, however, the relation of this righteousness to God’s final judgment upon a person was not open to our knowledge. Further, it was impious to inquire about it. A century earlier, the faculty of Paris had tried to trap Joan of Arc into answering the question about her certainty of salvation in the affirmative. But she gave the doctrinally correct answer to them, that one did not know these things. One simply was required to live in darkness about God’s judgment concerning it, trusting in the mercy of God. Mounting evidence, from Luther’s conscience, was bearing witness in him that the judgment was not going to be in his favor.
More than thirty years later, shortly before his death, Luther describes the in-breaking of a whole new world of belief and thought, which contested all the axioms just listed, and which originated from a rigorous examination of the scriptural warrant.
Several things should be noted here. First, the release from his accusing conscience, which Luther had finally received after all these years of searching, had come from the word of Biblical revelation alone. In fact, it had come in spite of, and in direct opposition to the whole received scholastic world of theological interpretation. This would necessarily almost immediately lead to a direct and fundamental challenge to the current method of biblical hermeneutics. By itself, this would be a momentous collision. I will argue later, that what we now call the Law-Gospel hermeneutic, new with Luther, constitutes the most fundamental Reformation discovery.
A second significance arises from how Luther chose to narrate to us how the collision played out, alerting us to pay close attention to his use of the term “conscience”. Though our current usage has reduced the term “conscience” to a discredited and hopelessly subjective psychological phenomenon (commonly discarded as some Freudian psycho-babble), it was for Luther a non-negotiable, critical expression to denote a huge theological reality. For him, conscience described the venue of our human awareness that, whether we deny it or not, we live “in the presence of God,” before His face, “coram deo.” This entails the affirmation that the verdict over our lives rests not with us, but with another. But that verdict has already been revealed for those who believe that the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ was for them. And so, the experience which Luther described here, of receiving the verdict “righteous” from God’s own lips, declared in His Word, became for Luther the central description of the pastoral office which he felt himself called to perform. Preaching delivers the verdict anew to each hearer of the Gospel. Preaching gives the gift. That is, it became his duty, and the duty of all preachers of the Gospel to utter clearly and distinctly this news which delivers our conscience.
The introduction to the 1535 Galatians commentary is as succinct as Luther gets regarding his under...