Thursday 30 November 2017

THE RELUCTANT PROTESTANT

Martin Luther, the troublesome monk
There is a certain irony in the fact that it was in a Roman Catholic church where I first learned the full facts about Martin Luther. He did not, apparently, nail those ninety five theses onto the church door at Wittenburg 500 years ago (there would not have been room) but sent them to the local bishop. Within weeks they had spread through Germany, within months through Europe and reached as far as little old England. Although Henry the Eighth – like Luther – considered himself a good Catholic until the end of his days, his break with Rome would not have been possible without the writings of the German monk and the fuss which followed. In another of those ironies it was Henry (and his successors) who proudly carried the title of Defender of the Faith given him by the Pope for persecuting heretics.

I was in the church to hear the writer Peter Stanford talking about his book Martin Luther: Catholic Dissenter.  The talk was scheduled to start at 7:30 and I had endured a long day and was not best pleased that it was delayed by the evening service running late. I convinced myself that the priest was taking his sweet time to put these godless Protestants in their place.  In fact, there were just a lot of people there for the service and he was not going to rush them. Saving souls was more important than stimulating intellects.  Fair enough – it was a house of God after all.

We learned that Luther hated the term ‘Protestant’ and thought he was actually doing the Pope a favour by highlighting the abuses which came from the selling of indulgences to finance the building of ever grander churches.  People were promised a quicker route to Heaven if they dropped a decent donation into the box and helped the church pay its bills.  The net result of this German monk speaking his mind and saying that salvation came from God’s grace not from good works was, in the short term, tens of thousands of people dying in the wars which followed and, in the long term, the division of Christianity into those who stick with the original Catholic creed and those who look for something different from the Protestant reformation.  Once you allow freedom into an institution it does not stop operating and the Protestants themselves have divided into an almost comical number of sub-sects. 

Stanford was brought up and remains a Catholic, I was brought up in a sceptical house and embraced atheism in my teens but later found it wanting and began to wander back into the church. (My work as a tourist guide has taken me into a lot of churches and some of it obviously rubbed off on me.)  If anyone asks, I describe myself as having the piety gene: looking for the solace of religion but unable to take the leap of faith into full scale belief. 

It would always be a Protestant church to which I would go in this search for God, even if I disagree with Luther’s idea that Heaven is attainable through faith not works.  If such a place exists – and I have great difficulty in believing it does – surely He will not exclude our souls from it without giving us a chance to prove our worth in this life.  Should a bad believer jump the queue in front of a good sceptic?  Can someone born in the wrong hemisphere or century be excluded from salvation because he or she did not have the opportunity to be or become a Christian?

Maybe Luther’s most famous action actually contradicts his philosophy.  If faith alone is enough to get you to Heaven, why bother to undermine those who tell you to do ‘good’ things to reach there – even if such actions are merely lining the pockets of those who run the show on earth?  Of course, Luther could not lead a life of quiet obedience, letting God alone decide who was to be saved.  He was a born upsetter of applecarts – “Here I stand, I can do no other,” he proclaimed even though he knew that doing so might condemn him to the flames in this world, if not the next.

One who did suffer the flames was William Tyndale who, like Luther, translated the Bible into his own language.  Tyndale was betrayed and executed by the Catholic hierarchy for the terrible crime of enabling the ploughboy to know the Bible as well as the pope. At the time the church was determined to keep its hold on the words of the Bible and would not tolerate translations which allowed people to think for themselves.  He was not actually the first English translator of the Bible.  That was John Wycliff who, unlike Luther and Tyndale, managed to keep his head down and survive. His body was later dug up and destroyed in an act of petty posthumous spite by the church authorities.  Luther would have suffered Tyndale’s fate if it was not for his powerful friends.

Tyndale’s is the translation we know and love in England with its great ringing phrases like ‘the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak’ and ‘the salt of the earth’.  It is phrases such as these which are heard today in the Catholic churches which often boast a larger congregation than their Protestant rivals.  The Latin mass has long been sidelined by all but a few stubborn traditionalists who defy a church no longer allowed to burn them at the stake.  So, in a sense Luther got his way with people of all faiths encouraged to know and read the Bible and not merely to rely on the man (Catholic) or person (Protestant) in the pulpit wearing the robes and leading the service.

I doubt I will ever square the circle and reconcile my scepticism with my need for belief.  I do know that atheism is not the answer and, to all those wo say that religion causes wars and bloodshed, I would reply that the great mass killers of the twentieth century were all atheists – Hitler, Mao, Stalin and Pol Pot.  At least with religion you are expected to behave better.

Edwin Lerner. (My other blog is diaryofatouristguide.blogspot.com)

For more on Peter Stanford and to order the book go topeterstanford.co.uk