A timely Luther selection
This year is the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation, with Oct. 31 marking the day that Martin Luther either nailed his famous Ninety-Five Theses to the church door in Wittenberg, or possibly and less dramatically, mailed them to his professor. However it went down, that day Luther unwittingly fuelled a revolution that eventually culminated in the division of the church. We Episcopalians, as followers of a via media or “middle way” between Catholicism and Protestantism, view those events from a unique vantage point.
A bewildering array of books have been published to coincide with the quincentenary of the Reformation, ranging from the earnestly expert to the cynically commercial and — that most problematic of categories for the layperson because it’s not always easily discerned — the commercially motivated, agenda- driven book cunningly disguised as expert. There are biographies, histories, a romance and a graphic novel to choose from, and, for young reformers-in-training, a Luther ABC primer and a pop-up book. If you have trouble making a selection, there’s also one failsafe option: Bypass all the books about Luther and read the great man himself.
Luther has been written about, taught and quoted (and misquoted) far more than he actually has been read. This is unfortunate, because he is exceedingly readable and accessible. As a place to start, the Penguin Classics edition, newly translated and edited by William R. Russell, is a wonderful choice.
This carefully curated selection represents a tiny fraction of Luther’s lifetime literary output, but it’s a balanced buffet that includes disputations, confessions, sermons, personal letters, prefaces to his writings and, yes, the Ninety-Five Theses. Russell beautifully and poignantly prefaces the collection, introducing each writing with just enough information to enable an informed read.
Luther’s writings have a shocking immediacy. His language is plain, his advice pointed and uncompromising. He is a genius at cutting through the bull, papal and otherwise; a man liable to call rural parishioners stupid pigs and the pope an Antichrist.
His writings are earthy and occasionally shocking, yes, but they always are grounded firmly in an aspirational faith and wisdom. Luther was flawed and remains controversial, but his writings and his life illuminate what true convictions and principles look like in practice, which makes him the sort of role model that’s currently in very short supply.
My favorites in this collection include “A Regular Way to Pray (1535),”an open letter Luther wrote to his friend and barber, full of solid, practical advice, and “Preface to Luther’s German Writings (1539),” in which he expresses the sincere (and ironic) hope that his writings soon will be forgotten. After reading this latter, colorful piece, I wondered what he’d make of all the current scribblings in his honor. Not much, one suspects.
Sermons on Christmas and Easter are rich reads anytime, but they will resonate even more strongly in the right season. In “The Heidelberg Disputation” of 1518, in which Luther, rather than backing off as he’d been advised, doubles down in his theological challenging of the church — and also in his brilliantly incisive musings on Paul — you can sense a direct, uncompromising thread of faith passing through time: from Jesus to Paul and on to Luther himself. Who will it be passed to next, one wonders? And, more to the point, can he or she please hurry up?
Luther’s voice is both a challenge and a balm to our times, and it remains helpful and relevant. He even provides a useful context for considering all those newly published Luther books, a way of contextualizing the bad as well as the good.
“Decraptals and excretals, I occasionally...use them” he says, in reference to the pope’s works. “But I do not study them or act in accordance with what they deemed good.”
Read whatever you like, Luther is saying, but read it critically and with a healthy dose of skepticism, never losing sight of the fact that true authority lies only in the Scriptures. That’s still great advice, nigh on 500 years later.