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 to: peterstanford.co.uk