Paul Gibson looks at a recent academic exploration of the life of Martin Luther
MARTIN LUTHER:
Renegade and Prophet
By Lyndal Roper
Vintage. 592 pages. £14.99
ISBN 978 1 784 703 448
Martin Luther is nothing if not a divisive figure. To many evangelicals he is a great hero. To others he is something of a villain. In this thoroughly researched biography, secular historian Lyndal Roper, Regius Professor of History at Oxford, seeks to steer an objective middle course.
Roper’s aim is not to idolise or denigrate Luther, but rather to understand him. Her stance is a critical one and she exposes many of Luther’s failings, yet she also acknowledges and explores many of Luther’s positive qualities and towering achievements. Her research throws up many fascinating insights into his life and character. Her approach is influenced by psychoanalysis: she is particularly keen to explore Luther’s interior life, to understand what drove him at an emotional level, his contradictions and his psychological conflicts.
Luther’s theology
The author’s primary interest is Luther the man, but she rightly recognises that Luther and his theology cannot be disentangled. She gives a fair treatment of Luther’s teaching on justification by faith alone and the centrality of the Word of God, although both could be developed more, and the Christian looking for an account of Luther’s views on these central Reformation topics will find other books that explore this further.
Roper’s research clearly draws out, however, that Luther’s theology cannot be reduced to a few evangelical rallying cries such as the five ‘solas’. In particular, Roper’s Luther is a man who felt very strongly about the importance of the real physical presence of Christ in the Lord’s Supper – not as a re-sacrifice of Christ by the priest to God, but as a sacrament in which God’s grace is received. As such Roper does us a service in showing the real Luther, rather than making him fit the mould of a typical 21st-century evangelical.
For Luther, the real physical presence of Christ was not a secondary issue on which he was prepared to agree to disagree. Roper recounts his bitter disputes with fellow Reformers, such as Karlstadt and Zwingli, who argued that the Supper is no more than a memorial of Christ’s death. On one occasion Luther even went as far as accusing Zwingli of heresy.
Rather than brushing aside Luther’s view of the real physical presence as unbiblical, it is good for modern evangelicals to consider why this was so important for Luther. In particular, many today may regard the theology of the Lord’s Supper as a minor doctrine that doesn’t matter all that much. Luther challenges that assumption. He thought long and hard about how to rightly understand the Scriptures on the Lord’s Supper. Luther’s example would challenge us to do the same, whether or not we end up reaching the same conclusion as he did.
Luther’s influences
Other biographies sometimes focus attention on Luther’s theological influences. This book adds a distinctive layer in considering what influenced Luther as a person. For example, Luther grew up not in a cultured imperial city, but in the mining town of Mansfeld, a tough, coarse, physical world. Roper notes that ‘his upbringing in Mansfeld would have given him a toughness and a readiness to put himself physically on the line, qualities that would be tested to the limit in the years ahead’ (p.34). From the mining community he also learned leadership skills and the importance of creating networks – skills that would later prove invaluable.
In particular, Roper sees Luther’s relationship with his father, Hans, as most significant in shaping Luther’s personality, theology (especially relating to gender) and relationships with others as an adult. Hans had intended his son to pursue a legal career, and Luther’s decision to enter the monastery in defiance of his father’s will had, in Roper’s view, a lasting impact. For example, the Pope and the Emperor were seen as paternal authority figures. Roper suggests that the inner steel that enabled Luther to take a bold stand against them had its roots in his stand against his father’s authority years earlier. She also sees Luther’s understanding of God as influenced by his relationship with his father.
Though such conclusions are hard to prove, they shed fascinating light on how God may have been providentially shaping Luther in his early years.
Luther’s strengths & weaknesses
Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the book is Roper’s analysis, from a secular perspective, of Luther’s strengths and weaknesses. In particular, she often argues that his greatest strengths were also his greatest weaknesses.
The clearest example of this is Luther’s courage, sense of purpose, commitment to biblical truth and refusal to compromise. These characteristics were crucial for the progress and survival of the Reformation. For example, ‘the courage he showed at Worms [where Luther took his public stand on the Word of God] was breathtaking. For a commoner to stand up to the Emperor and the most powerful princes in the empire, and to resist the might of the Church, was as extraordinary as it was unforgettable’ (p.7).
Yet that same stubbornness and refusal to compromise led to him demonise his opponents – both Catholics and fellow Protestants. It ‘made it difficult for him to appreciate the views of others, or to see that not every theological battle was a fight for Christ’ (p.315). Roper draws out how this displayed itself in his turning against friends who dared to take a different line to him on even (what we might consider) relatively small issues. Roper comments that ‘there is something chilling about the no-holds-barred nature of Luther’s hatred’ (p.235).
Roper presents Luther as an angry man, full of hatred. She argues that his anger had its benefits, inspiring his creativity, but it also showed itself in the bitter and mocking verbal attacks on others seen in many of his writings. The most disturbing example is Luther’s writing about the Jews. Roper argues that this cannot be dismissed as simply typical of the day, but was in fact more aggressive than that of his peers. Disturbingly, she suggests that his views on the Jews are intrinsic to his theology, stemming from ‘his insistence that the true Christians – that is, the evangelicals – had become the chosen people and had displaced the Jews’ (p.395).
Other examples of the link between Luther’s strengths and weaknesses are more positive. Roper describes Luther’s lifelong struggle with Anfechtungen, which she depicts as spiritual attacks which Luther saw as coming from the devil. Yet such experiences gave Luther a compassion and ability to encourage those who were suffering, for example in his table conversations and pastoral letters. We might see here the work of God in using Luther’s weakness for good, enabling him to comfort others with the comfort he had received.
For all her brutal honesty about Luther’s weaknesses and failings, Roper is not slow to praise Luther’s strengths. As well as his courage, she comments on his ‘tactically brilliant’ use of print (p.121), his understanding of the value of humour, and his (and wife Katie’s) hospitality. She concludes that ‘Luther’s extraordinary openness, his honest willingness to put everything on the line, and his capacity to accept God’s grace as a gift he did not merit, are his most attractive characteristics’ (p.422).
Luther’s towering achievements are not downplayed. Luther’s theological writings of 1520 are ‘by any measure an extraordinary achievement’ in how effectively they exposed the problems of the Roman church (p.156). His speech at Worms was ‘an intellectual masterpiece’ (p.183). His introduction of sung hymns ‘transformed the place of music in religion’ (p.413). Luther’s message changed the lives of people from all walks of life (p.416). And ‘perhaps Luther’s most lasting achievement was the German Bible’ (p.421).
Conclusion
Roper concludes by calling Luther ‘a difficult hero’. Should evangelicals, who hold Luther in such high esteem, be troubled by the negative aspects of his character exposed in this biography? Surely not, when we consider the dramatic moral failures of biblical ‘heroes’ such as Abraham, David or Peter. The Bible is clear there is only one true Hero – and yet God delights to use weak, flawed, sinful people to accomplish great things for the gospel. He does this so that all the glory will belong to him alone (1 Corinthians 1, 26–2.5). Luther himself would not have wanted it any other way.
