Martin Luther Versus the Catholic Church

Latter-day Saints have generally tended to look with favor upon the Protestant Reformation. Protestant reformers, such as Luther and others who followed him, are regarded as great men who made a genuine attempt to reform the Catholic Church, and who by their contributions prepared the way for the restoration of the gospel through the Prophet Joseph Smith. This general over-view is usually reflected in what Latter-day Saints write and speak. This general opinion, however, can be challenged. A more careful study of the subject would reveal that this opinion is not defensible. In what follows an attempt will be made to take a fresh look at Martin Luther and his work.
Luther’s “reform” movement was essentially doctrinal and theological, rather than moral or ethical. His quarrel with Rome was not over moral decline among the hierarchy, but over an interpretation of doctrine. His aim was not simply to eradicate corruption, moral decadence, and clerical abuse within the Catholic Church (which existed and was commonly acknowledged), but essentially to reinterpret Christianity in a different way:

“Luther’s initial cry was not a castigation of the crew. It was the ship to which he objected. ‘Others,’ said he, ‘have attacked the life. I attack the doctrine.’ Not the abuses of medieval Catholicism, but Catholicism itself as an abuse of the Gospel was the object of his onslaught. Luther congratulated Erasmus for perceiving what others had missed, that the quarrel centered on the view of man and God. The Catholic Church had in his judgement too low an opinion of the majesty and the holiness of God and too high an estimate of the worth and potentiality of man. And this was true not of the worst Catholics, but of the best.…
“The quarrel was basically religious because Martin Luther was above all else a man of religion. This is the place at which to start if one would understand either Luther or the Reformation.” (Bainton, p. 24.)

It is primarily in this light that Luther and his work should be assessed. Central to Luther’s theology was his doctrines of “predestination,” “justification by faith alone without works,” and “total depravity of man.” Hard on the heel of these theological issues comes his rejection of the Catholic Tradition, the Catholic Sacraments, and the principle of an ordained priesthood. It is primarily in this light that the value of Luther’s contributions must be judged. It is his theology that is of utmost importance, at least from the point of view of Latter-day Saints, and it is here that we must begin our investigation. After that we want to look at the man himself, as well as the aftermath or the end result and fruit of his labors.

Justification by Faith Alone
The most fundamental principle of Lutheran theology, however, is his theory of justification. It was Luther who first came up with the idea of “justification by faith alone without works,” and made it the very theological foundation of his religious movement. It is the keystone, capstone, corner-stone, and foundation-stone of his religion. That may sound like an exaggeration, but it is true. Remove this doctrine from Lutheranism (indeed from all Protestantism), and the entire edifice collapses.
Luther was an absolute predestinarian. He insisted that there was nothing that a man can do to contribute to his own salvation. It was all done by faith alone, without works! There was nothing that he could do even to acquire that faith. It is dispensed arbitrarily by God to whom he pleases. It is the sole prerogative of the “elect,” and the “elect” are those who are predestined to be saved. He hated the Epistle of James and the Revelation of John because of their emphasis on good works:

“In the New Testament Luther accorded the first place to the Gospel of John, then to the Pauline epistles.… James, though retained, was repugnant to Luther because of the insistence on good works, as was Revelation, because as Luther said, ‘It is not revealing.’” (Bainton, p. 45.)

“As for good works, Luther stated that anyone who could find Christ requiring good works in the Gospels was a liar, perhaps forgetting when he said this such passages as Matthew 7:21–27 and 25:31–46. The most detestable of all ‘works’ for Luther were the sacraments. He reduced their number from seven to two—Baptism and the Eucharist—and changed the meaning of these two entirely. (Gilles, p. 49.)

He detested the great Erasmus because he wrote a learned treatise in which he criticized his doctrine of predestination on the grounds of human freewill. Erasmus was one of the greatest men in the history of Christianity. He was a severe critic of the Catholic Church, for which he was highly respected throughout Christendom. He advocated many reforms, including the reform of the papacy, but he was never persecuted for it. Luther was no genius for recognizing the corruptions of the Catholic Church or for advocating its reform. Everybody knew that and everybody freely talked about it, including Erasmus:

“For Erasmus, the core of Christianity was the love of Christ. He thus considered many devotional practices which had arisen during the Middle Ages, such as indulgences and relic worship, ridiculous distortions of the true gospel. In his most famous book, The Praise of Folly, Erasmus excoriated such practices: ‘What can be said bad enough,’ he asked, of those who ‘by fumbling over their beads’ pretend ‘they shall procure riches, honors, pleasure, long life, and lusty old age, indeed, even after death a seat at the right hand of the Savior?’ He condemned popes for ‘their riches, honors, dispensations, indulgences, excommunications and interdicts.’ And he wrote of the prostitute who counted ‘swill-bellied monks’ as her best customers. (Gilles, p. 23.)

“Erasmus received adulation and homage from popes, kings and scholars. When he visited a city, his visit took on the nature of a triumphal procession. His letters and books circulated everywhere in thousands.” (Atkinson, p. 230.)

Erasmus was initially sympathetic towards Luther, and believed that he should be left free to express his opinions. But when he discovered that Luther’s aim was not to reform the Church but to break up the Church, he quietly withdrew his support for Luther without coming out in open confrontation. He had by nature a quiet and unassuming disposition and did not like contention and discord:

“In sampling Erasmus we can well appreciate the adage, ‘Erasmus laid the egg that Luther hatched.’ Erasmus, for his part, while at first approving of Luther’s revolt, eventually broke with Luther, expressing his reasons in a letter he wrote to a cardinal in Rome: ‘I would rather see things left as they are than see a revolution that may lead to one knows not what.’” (Gilles, p. 24.)

Eventually, however, his friends persuaded him to declare openly on what grounds he disagreed with Luther. Erasmus, with his sharp intellect saw through the maze of Lutheran contradictions, and saw clearly that what was at issue was man’s freewill:

“At length in 1524 Erasmus was persuaded to declare publicly and precisely what in Luther he found objectionable, and he fastened on the doctrine of man. He claimed that man is not an inert block incapable of good or ill, but a creature endowed with freedom and able to contribute to his own salvation. There were two points here. The first was whether man is capable of doing anything at all, which Luther never denied. The second was whether what man does can affect his fate. Luther answered emphatically ‘no!’ because man’s destiny lies wholly in the hands of God, and salvation is vouchsafed only to those on whom he has conferred the gift of faith, and not all are so favored. Luther attributed the acceptance of some and the rejection of others to God’s immutable decree and this admittedly was a rock of offence. Erasmus inquired why the anomalies of life should thus be projected into eternity and preferred to leave man insecure rather than incriminate God. Luther answered that ‘God must be God.’” (Bainton, p. 68.)

“When Erasmus opened the controversy with Luther, he did not choose to discuss any of the commonly argued topics such as the papacy, the authority of the councils, faith and justification, or the doctrine of the sacraments. Rather, Erasmus focused on the question of the freedom of the will. This clearly demonstrated that Erasmus had identified the centre of the controversy more clearly than had Luther’s other opponents. It was also true that Erasmus could sincerely defend the medieval doctrine of the freedom of the will against Luther. It seemed to Erasmus that Luther’s denial of the freedom of the will in matters related to eternal salvation made it difficult to think of any kind of human responsibility. If people have no personal responsibility, Erasmus thought that there was also little reason to try to educate them.
“In his On the Freedom of the will: a diatribe or discourse, Erasmus described his understanding of free will as ‘a power of the human will by which a man can apply himself to the things which lead to eternal salvation, or turn away from them.’ …
“Beyond this, Erasmus rejected Luther’s enthusiasm for making definite theological assertions.…” (Lohse, pp. 64–65.)

Luther took a long time to reply to Erasmus’s criticism, which was very uncharacteristic of him. He always replied to his critics immediately. But this was something different. He declared that Erasmus had taken him by the throat! In his reply, appropriately titled, On the Bondage of the Will, which appeared a year later, Luther furiously attacked Erasmus, and defended his own theory of absolute determinism. In the conclusion to his treatise he summarizes his views in unmistakable terms as follows:

“For if we believe it to be true that God foreknows and predestines all things, that he can neither be mistaken in his foreknowledge nor hindered in his predestination, and that nothing takes place but as he wills it (as reason itself is forced to admit), then on the testimony of reason itself there cannot be any free choice in man or angel or any creature.
“Similarly, if we believe that Satan is the ruler of this world, who is forever plotting and fighting against the kingdom of Christ with all his powers, and that he will not let men go who are his captives unless he is forced to do so by the divine power of the Spirit, then again it is evident that there can be no such thing as free choice.…” (Lohse, p. 68.)

“Luther’s answer to Erasmus which appeared a year later in December 1525, On the Bondage of the Will, is widely considered his greatest theological work. Here he connects divine foreknowledge and predestination, and infers that everything happens by necessity and that there can be no freedom in the creature. The will has no freedom in its salvation, though of course it has absolute freedom in the non-soteriological affairs of life, whether to marry and whom, what to eat, what to wear, what to do, even whether to be a good member of society.” (Atkinson, p. 233.)

This doctrine of predestination and justification by faith alone without works became the very hallmark and foundation stone of the whole of the Reformation movement. All the major Reformers, such as Zwingli and Calvin, wholeheartedly accepted it, embraced it, and endorsed it. Luther himself acknowledged that it was fundamental to his religion:

“Two vital theological concerns engaged Luther’s mind during these years and may be considered of prior importance. First, Justification by faith alone; second, a doctrine of the Church. During the last twenty-five years of his life Luther sought to clarify these two basic principle in all he wrote and all he did.… When Luther said that Justification by faith alone was the article by which the Church stood or fell, he brought into one formula these two guiding theological principles.” (Atkinson, p. 216. Emphasis added.)

“Luther was therefore confronted anew with the problem of Christianizing the world. A prior question was the nature of the moral life and how far it is attainable even by Christians. Luther had so insisted that man is incapable of contributing to his salvation as to make easy the inference that moral effort is pointless. And there was the still more devastating affirmation that the higher reaches of Christian ethic defy achievement; the counsels of perfection are binding upon all and attainable by none, because God commands the impossible.… The Christian life is a song not scored for breathing.… In two tracts of the year 1520, The Freedom of the Christian Man and The Sermon on Good Works, he declared that the Christian man is of all men the most free because he is not dominated by rules and does not pretend that he is carrying out laws.” (Bainton, p. 52.)

Zwingli, the great Swiss reformer, also followed in the same track:

“The Reformation in German Switzerland may be dated from the year 1519 when Zwingli at Zurich commenced his reformatory preaching. He agreed with Luther in much. While minimizing his indebtedness he emphasized the agreement. On first hearing of Luther, Zwingli declared himself to be so much of the same mind that all he could learn from Luther was the courage to come out and say what he already believed.… Zwingli agreed with Luther in the rejection of papal and conciliar authority, and in the reliance solely on the word of Scriptures. Like Luther he preached Justification by faith and denied the possibility of good works, the merits of the saints, and indulgences. With Luther he repudiated clerical celibacy and monasticism. With Luther he believed in predestination and in the reduction and revision of the sacraments, as well as in the simplification of the liturgy in the vernacular.… Zwingli accepted the doctrine of rigorous predestination against Erasmus.…” (Bainton, pp. 80–81.)

The following is a Catholic assessment of John Calvin, but I am inclined to believe it is a fair one:

“Calvin defined predestination as ‘God’s eternal decree, by which he determined within himself what he willed to become of man.’ Calvin’s doctrine of predestination is, like Luther’s, based on God’s decision to save some persons and damn others in a way completely unrelated to human conduct. Thus merit has nothing to do either with God’s salvation or his damnation of particular persons. When objections were raised to Calvin’s doctrine, he admitted that predestination to damnation was ‘a horrible decree;’ but he asserted, nevertheless, that predestination is ‘in conformity to the clear doctrine of Scripture’ and ‘promotes our admiration of God’s glory.’
“Unlike Luther, who based his theory of predestination on God’s foreknowledge of the future (the traditional Augustinian approach), Calvin makes predestination more horrible than anyone before had ever dreamed of doing. Breaking new ground, he does not simply teach that God damns those whom he foresees rejecting divine grace; Calvin teaches that God wills for certain people to reject his grace, and thus wills their damnation. It is doubtful that a more perfidious distortion of the gospel has ever been conceived.
“Reconciling Calvin’s theory of predestination with his doctrine of sola scriptura is difficult if not impossible.… One gets the general sense from studying the Bible that God wants all of his creation to be saved. The image of God that Jesus presents in the Parable of the Prodigal Son, for example, is hardly Calvin’s malevolent monster scheming to damn humanity to eternal punishment. Further, individual verses of Scripture mandate categorically against Calvin’s doctrine: [e.g. 2 Peter 3:9; 1 Timothy 2:4; 1 John 2:2; Titus 2:11]. With this brief look at Calvin’s theology, we conclude our discussion of Protestantism’s most influential theologian.” (Gilles, pp. 79, 80.)

Latter-day Saints like to say that “the war in heaven  is still going on here on earth”.1 If there is any truth in that, it certainly found its greatest fulfillment in the warfare between Lutheranism and Catholicism. The Catholic Church stood for the freedom of the human will; Luther and his disciples stood for the bondage of the human will; and he succeeded in drawing away one-third of the hosts of the Christendom after him!

“To the elect and those who have the Spirit, predestination is the very sweetest of all doctrines, but to the worldly-wise the bitterest and hardest of all.… The reason why God saves in this way is to show that he saves not by our merits but by election pure and simple, and by His unchanging will.… We are saved by His unchanging love.… Where then is our righteousness? Where our good works? Where is our free will? What about this talk of the contingency of things? [Luther on Romans viii, 28.]” (Atkinson, p. 123.)

“Sometimes Luther came very close to the view that people have no freedom to choose even in matters that are subject to them and seemed to say that human actions even at this level are directed by God.” (Lohse, p. 66.)

“For the Protestants the Renaissance by and large stood for all that was wrong with the Church—namely, the attempt (as the Protestants saw it) to integrate non-Christian with Christian values. As the popes of the 15th and 16th centuries eagerly embraced the Renaissance, Protestant reformers denounced them for attempting to turn the Bride of Christ into the Whore of Babylon. In so doing the Protestant reformers at the same time castigated the entire spirit of the Renaissance, and especially the Renaissance emphasis on humanity’s power to control its own destiny. Largely in reaction to this spirit, Protestant reformers created a theology which so over-emphasized God’s sovereignty that it virtually eliminated humanity’s capacity to order its own existence—and hence we arrive at the celebrated controversy between faith and works and the Protestant definition of predestination.” (Gilles, pp. 6–7.)

Rejection of the Catholic Sacraments
On practically all the major issues in which Luther and the Catholic Church disagreed, the Catholic Church was right and Luther wrong. From among the various controversial issues, the most important in the eyes of the Catholic Church was Luther’s rejection of the Catholic sacraments. When Luther wrote his tract, The Babylonian Captivity, in which he rejected most of the Catholic sacraments, Erasmus exclaimed, “The breach is irreparable!” (Bainton, p. 58.) It should be explained that by the word “sacrament” in traditional Christian parlance is meant what Latter-day Saints generally call “ordinances of the gospel,” or “ordinances of the priesthood.” They also have a different definition for them. They define a sacrament as an “outward sign of inward grace;” by which they mean a physical performance which carries with it an invisible “grace” which is no less real. Baptism for example is a physical performance when an individual is immersed in water, but which nevertheless carries with it an inward or invisible “grace” which is no less real, i.e. the remission of sins. The same can be said of the other sacraments. The Catholics have traditionally recognized seven sacraments altogether: Baptism, Confirmation, the Lord’s Supper, Ordination, Extreme Unction (blessing the sick), Marriage, and Penance. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the only church that has more sacraments than the Catholic Church does. Latter-day Saints have more than twice as many! Luther rejected all but two of these: Baptism and the Lord’s Supper. All the rest he declared not to be true sacraments. He also changed the character of those he retained. When he rejected the doctrine of “works,” he included in that the ordinances of the gospel. They too are not necessary for salvation because they are “works!”
It should be borne in mind that Luther did not reject the sacraments on the grounds that the Catholic Church did not have the necessary priesthood authority to perform them. He declared that they were not true sacraments at all, which of course was not correct. They are true sacraments, regardless of whether the Catholic Church has the priesthood authority to perform them or not.

Rejection of an Ordained Priesthood
In the same way he also destroyed the concept of an ordained priesthood. By the “priesthood of all believers” he meant that anybody who accepts the gospel and becomes a Christian automatically becomes a priest; he does not need to be ordained one. Again, it should be borne in mind that Luther did not say all worthy Christians are entitled to have the priesthood. He declared that ordination was not necessary to obtaining that priesthood. These changes and innovations were tantamount to the destruction of the Church itself, as far as the Catholic Church was concerned:

“The most devastating attack on the structure of the Church came from a denial of the efficacy of the sacraments or of priestly power to dispense them.” (Bainton, p. 19.)

“Ordination was not a sacrament because not instituted by Christ. Ordination is a rite of the Church, but it confers no invisible grace and no indelible status. The minister is a Christian set apart by the congregation for the performance of a particular office. He is not thereby constituted a priest because all Christians are priests. Here was the doctrine of the universal priesthood of all believers. Merely in the interests of good order some are selected for the performance of particular functions.” (Bainton, p. 47.)

“In place of the medieval assertion of the superiority of the spiritual over the secular estate, Luther asserted the thesis that all baptised are priests.… In this context, the doctrine of the universal priesthood of the baptised fulfilled the function of destroying these three walls built by the Roman Church. Thereby it freed the secular authorities to exercise their proper responsibility. In this book, as well as in his later book on government, Luther supported the secular government in its assertion of independence over against the spiritual authority of the church. Of course, most of the people who supported Luther because of his opposition to Rome really disagreed with his theology on most other points.” (Lohse, p. 128. Emphasis added.)

“Luther used The Babylonian Captivity of the Church to discuss needed reforms in theology and particularly in the doctrine and administration of the sacraments. In this book … Luther charged the Roman curia with having created and used the doctrine of the seven sacraments as the basis of its power. This charge was obviously historically inaccurate and could not be substantiated. The fact that Luther made this charge, however, was a sign of the fact that the papacy had become the central issue of the controversy.” (Lohse, pp. 128–29)

Scripture Alone!
Luther’s watchword was “scripture alone” (sola scriptura), by which he meant several things. Firstly, he meant only his own interpretation, and not anybody else’s:

“Luther treated Scripture with royal freedom, but not at whim. There was the clear determinative principle that the word of God is the message of redemption through Christ Jesus our Lord without any merit on our part, and that we are saved solely through heartfelt acceptance in faith. Yet despite the recognition of levels within Scripture, Luther did not treat the book as a whole and shrank from demolishing the canon by excluding James and Esther.… Necessarily, then, if the Bible was taken as a whole and yet not regarded as uniformly valuable, some portions had to be taken literally and others spiritualized. This is the point at which Luther often appears arbitrary and even inconsistent.
“The drastic consequences of his position became apparent when he came to deal with the sacraments of the Church.…” (Bainton, pp. 45–46.)

The truth of the matter, however, is that Luther not only treated the scriptures “with royal freedom,” but also “at whim,” almost with disdain. There is a discrepancy between the above quotation and the following, but the truth of this assertion comes through both of them clearly:

“In translating the Bible, Luther did not hesitate to bring his own experiences to bear on the translated text. He had no compunction, therefore, in altering the original text to suit his purposes. Thus he translated the phrase ‘justice of God’ as ‘justice valid before God.’ And in the key passage of his entire theology, Romans 3:28, he added the word ‘alone’ after ‘faith,’ so that his version read, ‘For we hold that a man is justified by faith alone apart from observance of the law.’
“Further, Luther established his own canon of Scripture; he rejected the Letter of James and the Book of Revelation, and only begrudging accepted the Epistle to the Hebrews.” (Gilles, p. 49.)

Although Luther advocated freedom of interpretation, he was very intolerant of those who disagreed with his own interpretations. He became bitter enemies of his best friends who dared to disagree with him on any issue, even when they were right and he was wrong. Luther was very inconsistent in his interpretation of the scriptures. For example, although he rejected most of the Catholic sacraments, yet he retained infant baptism:

“He insisted that the sacraments are without efficacy apart from faith, but he retained infant baptism. In what sense could this be said to rest on faith? There were among Luther’s followers those who came to feel that his position logically pointed to adult baptism after the individual had arrived at an experience of conscious personal faith. But Luther himself distinguished two levels of faith. There is faith awake and faith asleep. Since faith in any case is a gift of God, why should not God confer it upon a child? Then again Luther shifted his ground and held that the child was sustained by the faith of the sponsor because children are from the outset participants in the life of the Christian community. The question of adult versus infant baptism has very far-reaching consequences for the theory of the Church, … Luther had a difficult time making up his mind between these ideals and Protestantism subsequently split into churches and sects.” (Bainton, p. 50)

“He also accepted the baptism of children as an ancient and justifiable practice of the Church. There is no satisfactory way of reconciling Luther’s clear teaching on justification by faith alone with his views on baptismal regeneration. His contemporaries saw this chink in his armour, and so have many radicals who have succeeded them.” (Atkinson, p. 192.)

Similarly, although Luther rejected the doctrine of transubstantiation, he accepted the doctrine of “real presence,” or consubstiation as it is sometimes called, which is not much different from transubstantiation. It holds that the flesh and blood of Christ is in some way present in the bread and wine. He interpreted literally the scripture: “This is my body …” (Luke 22:19–20). Zwingli, who had been a follower and disciple of Luther in just about everything else, disagreed with him on this one issue. He argued, citing John 6:47–63, that the expression was not meant to be taken literally, but that the bread and wine are only a memorial of the sufferings of Christ. But Luther was adamant:

“The differences between the reformers received their bitterest expression in the matter of the eucharistic theology. Zwingli would in no way support any doctrine of a real presence. He rejected outright the Roman doctrine of transubstantiation and with it Luther’s view of the ‘real presence’ which he saw as a conservative compromise with the medieval position. By the sacrament, Zwingli understood quite simply a spiritual feeding of the faithful, who by partaking in faith heard the Word of God and received the Holy Spirit. ‘The flesh profiteth nothing,’ he used to emphasise.…
“The main conference [at Marburg] began the next day. On the Wittenberg side Luther and Melancthon were supported by Jonas, Cruciger, Myconius, Ociander, Agricola and Brentius; on the Swiss side Zwingli and Oecolampadius were supported by Bucer and Hedio. Luther, Melancthon, Zwingli and Oecolampadius sat at the same table. The Landgrave sat aside, the keenest listener of all. They were a very formidable crowd indeed. There were many guests, both scholars and noblemen, but still more were refused admission, among those Carlstadt, who at this time was a penniless wanderer forced to sell his Hebrew Bible for bread.
“In the debate little that was new arose. Luther stood firm on the plain meaning of the words ‘This is my body,’ Zwingli on its spiritual, figurative meaning. Luther felt that no agreement could come out of such a basic difference, though Zwingli earnestly desired friendship with the Wittenbergers. Towards the end of the conference the horrible disease called the English sweat broke out and the delegates wanted to return home. The Landgrave made frantic efforts to bring the reformers together. Zwingli believed that differences existed only in what he described as non-essentials, and such differences should not be allowed to destroy the unity of Protestantism, for they were united in essentials. Luther took the view that the corporal presence of Christ in the sacrament was no ‘non-essential’ and he could never free his mind from the prejudice that Zwingli’s liberalism was only indifference to truth decked out in fine feathers.… Luther refused the right hand of fellowship to Zwingli, an act which brought tears to Zwingli’s eyes.…
“They differed on three issues. First, the mode of Christ’s presence: whether it was a bodily presence in the elements, or a spiritual presence discerned by faith; secondly, and closely related, how the believer partook of the body and blood, that is, by eating, or receiving in the heart by faith.…
“As agreed earlier in the chapter Luther taught a real, corporal presence of the very body and blood of Christ ‘in with and under’ the elements, and that all alike, believers and unbelievers, actually partook of both substances.” (Atkinson, pp. 269, 72, 73, 76.)

“Since Zwingli had made no secret of his dislike for Luther’s ‘neo-Catholic’ tendencies, Luther and his associates arrived at the meeting suspicious and defensive. When Zwingli offered Luther his hand, the latter refused, saying, ‘Your spirit is not our spirit.’
“The chief topic of debate at Marburg was the Eucharist. Luther picked up a piece of chalk and wrote on the table which separated him from Zwingli, ‘This is my body.’ For two days the two men and their disciples debated, with Luther insisting on the doctrine of ‘real presence’ and Zwingli demanding a purely symbolic interpretation of the words Luther had written. Luther held fast: ‘These words, “This is my body,” hold me captive,’ he told Zwingli. ‘Do away with the text for me and I am satisfied.’ Zwingli, on the other hand, insisted that the words be taken spiritually. Zwingli insisted that Jesus did not say, ‘“This is my body” essentially, really, corporally … The soul is spirit. The soul does not eat flesh; spirit eats spirit.’ …
“The conference at Marburg was a failure. Luther and Zwingli signed an ambiguous compromise formula presented to them by Philip of Hesse, but each man interpreted the document in his own way. Two weeks after the conference Luther and Reformed preachers were again damning each other for their respective heresies. Luther urged Duke Albert of Prussia to forbid any Zwinglian from coming into Prussian territory.” (Gilles, pp. 72–73)

Luther became the bitter enemy of Zwingli over this issue; and when Zwingli was later killed in battle, Luther instead of bemoaning the loss of an old friend, declared that it had been the judgment of God upon him! (Bainton, p. 94.) Luther and Calvin similarly disagreed:

“Our discussion in this chapter focuses on the growth of the Protestant tradition, something which would have horrified Luther and Calvin. For Luther and even more for Calvin there was no such thing as doctrinal tradition outside of Scripture. Each insisted that his theology (and his alone) was the pure reflection of Scripture with nothing else added. The inherent weakness of their respective positions was itself revealed by the fact that Luther and Calvin adamantly disagreed with each other over what Scripture meant on certain key doctrinal issues. Nonetheless, each stubbornly clung to sola scriptura.
“Lutheran and Calvinist theologians during the second phase of the Reformation reluctantly admitted—although not saying so in so many words—that the acute doctrinal controversies between Protestants required further elaboration of their respective founder’s theology. Thus the advocates of sola scriptura began to redefine their doctrinal positions in creeds, confessions and catechisms, exactly as the Catholic Church had done during the first Christian centuries. In short, theologians for whom the word tradition was an abomination began to develop their own Protestant traditions. These traditions rivaled each other as well as the Catholic tradition from which their founders had seceded precisely in the hope of doing away with tradition. Protestants themselves thus discovered that sola scriptura was not so ‘sola after all.” (Gilles, pp. 137–38)

Rejection of the Catholic Tradition
This quotation brings us to the second thing that Luther meant when he spoke of “scripture alone.” He meant the complete abolition of the Catholic Tradition. The Catholic Church recognized two standards of authority in matters of doctrine or principle: they were scripture and tradition. Luther completely rejected tradition, and held fast to scripture alone:

“Both the early and the medieval church took the authority of Scripture for granted, although at certain points they did so in different ways. The principle of “Scripture alone” was never advocated before Luther, however. This fact is of major importance: Until Luther, the authority of Scripture as a totality was absolutely taken for granted in the church and the relationship between Scripture and tradition had not yet been identified as a problem. This reality made it possible for the Reformers to criticise the sixteenth-century church on the basis of the content and the authority of Scripture. It also enabled many people to accept their criticisms as valid.
“The representatives of the old church were faced with a dilemma. They did not wish to deny the watchword of the Reformation, ‘Scripture alone,’ because they also accepted the authority of Scripture. At the same time, they could not critically evaluate what the Reformers were doing because the Roman tradition had never thought through the relationship between Scripture and tradition. This is ultimately the reason why the Roman theologians at first simply asserted the authority of the pope against Luther and his supporters.
“In spite of this assertion of the authority of the Pope, however, theologians in the period before Luther generally understood the meaning of Scripture as compatible with the total context of the church’s traditional teaching and interpreted it in harmony with the church’s doctrinal decisions.” (Lohse, pp. 153–54.)

Was Luther right to reject the Catholic tradition? The Prophet Joseph Smith has spoken the last word on that subject as far as Latter-day Saints are concerned when he declares, ‘The old Catholic Church traditions are worth more than all you have said;’2 The truth of course is that the traditions of the Catholic Church are basically wholesome and good. They may also contain errors, as one would expect after the lapse of so many centuries, but essentially they are good. The Catholic sacraments for example cannot all be proved from scripture alone. Luther was not at all justified in rejecting the Catholic tradition. Luther in the same way rejected the Catholic Canon Law, another great body of Catholic authority. The Canon Law is a body of laws enacted in Church councils over many centuries, as necessity and expediency has dictated them. They are generally wholesome and good laws, as any impartial observer would readily admit by making a quick examination of the book. But when they showed Luther something out of the Canon Law which happened to contradict his doctrines, he promptly burned the Canon Law!

“He was next driven to a repudiation of the authority of the Canon Law, the great legal code of Christendom. A medieval papal pronouncement on indulgences, clearly enunciating the treasury of the merits of the saints, had been incorporated within the Canon Law. Luther, when confronted with this document, sought at first to obviate the natural sense of the words, but on being pressed conceded the meaning and repudiated the authority. When later Luther confined to the same bonfire the bull excommunicating himself and the Canon Law, the smoke of the latter was much more offensive in the nostrils of his contemporaries because another great bulwark of authority was demolished.
“These attacks on authority were supported by an appropriation from the sectaries of the late Middle Ages of two devastating ideas: eschatology and predestination. Luther, like the sectaries, believed in the speedy advent of Christ to overthrow his great enemy Antichrist, identified with the pope. There was this difference, however, between the view of Luther and that of his precursors. They equated particular popes with Antichrist because of their evil lives. Luther declared that even the most exemplary popes were Antichrist because the representatives of an institution opposed to Christ.…
“The other idea was that the true Church consists only of the predestined. The idea is really subversive only if there is some way of knowing who the predestined may be, and Luther made no pretence of being able to tell, except for this, that the church of the predestined is bound to be despised and rejected of men, persecuted and hidden in the world.
“Very naturally Luther was constantly asked, ‘By what authority dost thou these things? Bist du allein klug? Are you alone wise?’ His answer was that he acted by the authority of Holy Scripture. He has been accused in consequence on the one hand of opening the floodgates of individualism, producing an inundation of all the vagaries of private interpretation, and on the other hand of investing one particular interpretation of Scripture with all the rigidity and finality of papalism. Both judgements contain a measure of truth if one looks at the outcome, because the Protestant sects did introduce a welter of interpretations and Lutheranism developed in the direction of stark Biblicism.” (Bainton, pp. 42–45. Emphasis added.)

Rejection of Ecclesiastical Authority
This quotation in turn brings us to the third principle that Luther had in mind when he declared “scripture alone.” He meant that everyone can be his own interpreter of scripture. That may at first sound like a reasonable suggestion, but it is not as innocent as it sounds. What Luther meant was that everyone can be an authoritative interpreter of scripture:

“Luther coupled his call to patriotism with a new and more daring doctrinal attack: He declared all Christians to be priests and thus proclaimed the ordained priesthood to be invalid. Each Christian, he said, is an authoritative interpreter of Scripture.” (Gilles, pp. 45–46. Emphasis added.)

In other words, the Catholic Church did not have the right to have the last say in matters of controversy or dispute concerning doctrine which might arise in the Church. That was wrong! The Catholic Church did have the right to claim that privilege. By this means Luther laid the field open for anyone with ambition to come up with his own brand of Christianity, and build a church after the manner of his own preaching (those whom the Lord condemns in D&C 10:56 for “building up churches unto themselves”), which is what has actually happened in Protestantism.
Luther’s rejection of an ecclesiastical line of authority would equally undermine the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; because it is very much based on ecclesiastical authority, like the Catholic Church; and very much unlike Protestantism. Luther didn’t just reject Catholic ecclesiastical authority. He rejected all forms of ecclesiastical authority, which would equally undermine the restored Church of Jesus Christ today.

Luther’s Trial
The Catholic Church’s treatment of Luther initially was certainly wrong. But when matters became serious, genuine attempts were made to reach an agreement with Luther in the interest of peace and Christian unity, but Luther was too obstinate to yield. The following account of the proceedings of the Diet of Worms (pronounced vorms), where Luther was tried, is given by Roland H. Bainton, who is an acknowledged authority on the subject:

“At the diet there were three parties: the extreme papalists who desired that the diet or the emperor on his own authority should implement the wish of the Church and put Luther under the ban without discussion; secondly the defenders of Luther headed by Frederick the Wise, who was less committed to Luther’s opinions than intent upon fair play; and thirdly the Erasmians, who desired a settlement out of court by way of compromise. If only Luther could be persuaded to repudiate the tract on The Babylonian Captivity, or at any rate to disclaim what he had said about the sacraments, the other points could be negotiated, and alike schism and warfare which might conceivably otherwise ensue could be averted. The German nationalists were enlisted for the plan and Luther, while on the way to Worms, was invited to turn aside to a castle along the way there to confer with the representatives of the Catholic moderates. He replied that he would enter Worms though there were as many devils as tiles on the roofs.
“On 17 April, 1521, Luther appeared before a small session of the diet. He was confronted with a pile of his books and asked whether he acknowledged them all, in the hope that he might repudiate The Babylonian Captivity. But Luther acknowledged every one of the books and added for good measure that he had written more. Then he was asked whether he would stand by everything which he had written therein. This was affording him another opportunity to discriminate and reject a part. Suddenly he became well-nigh speechless, as he considered the frightful responsibility which rested upon him in going counter to the teaching of the Church for so many centuries. Were his opponents justified when they inquired, ‘Are you alone right?’ He asked for time. It was granted. In consequence he appeared the following day before a crowded session. Once more he was given an opportunity to repudiate a portion of his teaching. He responded by distinguishing three parts: the first having to do with Christian piety, which he could not repudiate without rejecting the Christian religion; the second having to do with German grievances which none in the diet would wish him to deny; and the third containing personal attacks which he could not well retract without giving too much comfort to the enemy. The examiner replied that he ought still further to have distinguished his works as those which were bad and those which were worse. Let him give an answer without horns: ‘Do you or do you not repudiate your books and the errors which they contain?’ Luther answered, ‘Since Your Majesty and your lordships desire a simple reply, I will answer without horns and without teeth. Unless I am convinced by Scripture and by plain reason—I do not accept the authority of popes and councils, for they have contradicted each other—my conscience is captive to the Word of God, I cannot and will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. God help me. Amen.’
“Even after this unyielding reply an attempt was made to break him down in a committee. He was reminded that if he would not yield the outcome would be division, insurrection, and war. Luther’s answer amounted to this, that whereas in practical matters one may compromise, and even as to principles may concede the possibility of error, never is it right to deny belief in what one believes. ‘The pope,’ said he, ‘is no judge of matters pertaining to God’s word and faith. But the Christian man must examine and judge for himself.’ Here we have the epitome and the extent of Protestant individualism.” (Bainton, pp. 59–61.)

In Latter-day Saint literature, the only thing that is often quoted about Luther’s trial are his words: “Unless I am convinced by Scripture and by plain reason …” which, when taken out of context, gives a completely distorted picture of what did actually happen at the trial, and indeed of the circumstances which led to it. Atkinson, who is a deeply pro-Lutheran writer, has given the following interesting account of the events at Worms, again demonstrating how Luther turned down all genuine attempts at reconciliation with the Catholic Church:

“Then Cochlaeus came along with a private proposal from the nuncio to the effect that if Luther would be willing to recant only those points which were generally agreed to be in contradiction to the Catholic faith, then the questionable points could be considered in due course by an authority competent to do so, and his writings amended accordingly. Luther answered that now he was but one voice among many. Even if he were to recant all his writings, nothing could be gained by such personal recantation. Evangelical theology was in other hands far abler than his own. It was no longer a question of one man, but of a cause.
“Negotiations still went on. Two jurists, who wanted reform anyway, kept negotiations open, and it seemed at one time as if Luther was prepared to leave the whole thing to a general council to be called as soon as possible. The Archbishop sent for him hopefully, but it became clear that Luther would never leave his basis of the Word of God and submit that principle to a council. There was no more to say or do.
“Popular memory has forgotten the conferences subsequent to the diet, but they were not unimportant. It can truly be said that it was there that the real decision was taken, and moreover it was there that an earnest effort to come to an understanding with Luther was really made. The Romanists began to see that the cleavage was abysmal. It was not a matter of Church politics or Church order, it was fundamentally a difference in the interpretation of Christianity.” (Atkinson, p. 204.)

The Fruits of Lutheranism
One good way to assess Lutheranism is to judge it by its fruits. According to the word of the Lord, if the fruit was good, the tree also must be good (Matthew 7:15–20). The more immediate effect of Lutheranism was war, devastation, misery, religious hatred, and death for millions; its more long-term effect has been to split up Christendom into the proliferation of sects which have borne ‘the most bitter fruit’ (Jacob 5:52, 57, 65).

“While everywhere more and more people declared themselves ‘Lutheran,’ few converts knew anything about Luther’s revolt other than that it promised freedom from Rome’s oppression. At this time there was hardly a consistent Lutheran theology being taught throughout Germany, nor was there a standard liturgy. All that mattered to Germans inebriated with the liquor of rebellion was that Rome’s dominion had come to an end.
“The lower classes who got wind of Luther’s social pronouncements understood him to be calling on them to destroy the old social order. Now that every man was a priest, every man was thought to be equal. Luther’s widely circulating German New Testament was read as a charter for social change: The greed of both secular and religious rulers was tried and condemned by the tribunal of evangelical poverty.
“An anonymous pamphleteer calling himself ‘Pitchfork John’ allied the peasants’ interests to Luther’s. Another writer demanded universal (male) suffrage and popular election of all rulers. Traditional values were stood on their heads. Some preachers proclaimed that only peasants could gain salvation, while the upper classes were damned. The communistic theology of Munzer and Pfeiffer was said by some to be Luther’s own teaching.
“When a disastrous hailstorm ruined the crops in south Germany in 1524, a spark was ignited and the peasantry rebelled. A man named Hans Muller formed the ‘Evangelical Brotherhood,’ a radical Christian movement calling peasants to revolution and freedom. In four months some 30,000 armed peasants had joined Muller.
“Luther at first blamed the rebellion on the princes’ past selfishness, but at the same time he retreated from his earlier social teachings, now defending social inequality and serfdom. Confused, the peasants’ leaders nonetheless pressed on for radical social change. A group of them published ‘Twelve Articles’ of dissent which, if heeded, would have drastically altered German society.
“The Nobles’ violent reaction was not slow in coming. When an ex-priest named Jacob Wehe and his band of 3000 peasants took the town of Leipheim in south Germany, a mercenary general hired by a league of princes attacked the ill-trained ‘army,’ beheaded Wehe and dispersed the peasants. Peasants elsewhere reacted vengefully, prompting one observer to write, ‘Robbing and plundering became so common that even pious men were tempted thereto.’
“Shocked by the peasants’ excesses, Luther now broke with them entirely; in May 1525 he wrote the pamphlet Against the Robbing and Murdering Hordes of Peasants. In it he allied himself completely with the princes, urging them to ‘smite, slay and stab, secretly or openly,’ the rebellious peasants. ‘It is just,’ Luther proclaimed, ‘when one must kill a mad dog; if you do not strike him he will strike you, and a whole land with you.’
“The Princes took Luther at his word. Not two weeks after the publication of Luther’s pamphlet, 5000 peasants were slaughtered. Others were spared only when they agreed to stone their leaders to death in exchange for their own lives. A week later another 20,000 peasants were killed, and nobles all over Germany chopped off the hands and gouged out the eyes of any peasant suspected of revolutionary behavior. In all, over 130,000 peasants died in the rebellion, and another 50,000 were dispossessed of their homes and property, creating a permanent class of beggars. The Catholic emperor blamed Luther directly for the chaos, and many princes either reneged on their previous conversions to Lutheranism or publicly reavowed their Catholic faith.
“Luther was now condemned on all sides—by peasants for his betrayal, by princes for stirring up the rebellion with his dangerous doctrines. For five years Luther dared not leave Wittenberg, the only city where he was still safe. ‘Now lords, priests and peasants are all against me,’ he wrote, ‘and threaten my death.’
“Seeking to disclaim all ties with the rebellion, he wrote another pamphlet condemning the peasants. ‘A rebel,’ he declared, ‘is not worth answering with arguments, for he does not accept them. The answer for such a mouth is a fist that brings blood from the nose.’ The effect on the peasants of Luther’s disavowal was to drive them to cynicism and resentment. While many of them returned to the Catholic Church, others joined the more radical Protestant Churches, and still others simply became irreligious.” (Gilles, pp. 59–60.)

“A Frankfurt bookseller wrote in 1592, ‘We have noticed for several years past that the books written by Protestants against Protestants are three times as numerous as those of Protestants against Catholics.’ Philip Melancthon characterised this Protestant vituperation as ‘theological rabies.’ As Protestants grew increasingly hostile toward each other, the Jesuites steadily gained converts for Catholicism. Many Christians longed for the certainty and stability provided by Catholicism, and many princes feared Protestant anarchy.
“Meanwhile, religious hatred in Germany grew to a peak unmatched elsewhere. German theological treatises began to read like pornographic novels; texts were peppered with four-letter words and lurid descriptions of the other side’s vices. Catholics wrote of Lutherans’ taste for incest, while Lutherans created ‘Popess Joanna,’ a satanic woman who had mothered all the popes into existence. Her sons were said to dance with devils in the streets of Rome. Calvinists delighted in pillorying Luther as the new pope, while Lutheran theologians called Calvinists ‘baptized Jews and Mohammadans.’ In the year 1618 alone, 1800 bigoted tracts circulated throughout Germany condemning Christians of every stripe.
“This fury of hatred naturally led to increased fear and suspicion. In 1608 Protestant princes formed a Protestant Union. A year later Catholic rulers responded with the Catholic league. Both alliances were formed, of course, in the name of defense. All that was needed was a spark to ignite the tinder. Bohemia provided the catalyst in 1618 when Protestant nobles expelled both the Jesuites and the archbishop from Prague and threw two imperial-appointed Catholic governors from the fifth floor of their headquarters onto a heap of manure. The governors, though uninjured, could not bring themselves to laugh at their fall from grace, and war soon erupted.
“The Thirty Years’ War (1618–1648) was a patchwork quilt of brutality, atrocity, treachery and degradation. Religious interests were completely subordinated to the lust for political power on the part of Catholic and Protestant heads of state throughout Europe. Many historians estimate that, had the population and technology equaled the mid 20th-century situation, the Thirty Years’ War would have inflicted twice the casualties and destruction suffered during World War II. In Germany and Austria the population was slashed from 21 million to 13 million, and in Bohemia from 3 million to 800,000. These are greater percentage decreases in population than in any major war ever fought.
“Germany after the war was literally in ruins. Thousands of farms were either laid waste or idle for lack of workers. Peasants in many places were reduced to eating dogs, cats and grass; even cannibalism was not unknown. Destroyed roads halted transportation and communications; industry and commerce were crippled; stacks of rotting corpses spread disease everywhere. All of this carnage and destruction, created by self-styled Christians seeking to force their faith on others, produced a frightful backlash of religious cynicism throughout Europe.
“The Peace of Westphalia (1648), which settled the war, remade the political map of Europe by parceling out territories to the victors. Politically speaking, France was the winner and Germany the loser. In terms of religion, Protestantism gained equal footing with Catholicism in Germany. While Luther’s revolution had not fully succeeded, he did achieve a posthumous stalemate. From his grave Calvin too had scored a major victory: Calvinism was for the first time granted recognition as a lawful religion. From 1648 until the present, the religious map of Germany would remain essentially unchanged.
“The real loser of the Thirty Years’ War was European Christianity. In the minds of most European intellectuals, Christianity had utterly discredited itself. Everywhere great thinkers began increasingly to question religious traditions and authority. Could Jesus Christ really have been God, people wondered, when his disciples enforced his gospel of peace and love at the point of the sword? In the minds of many intellectuals a Christianity which chose to live by the sword could just as well die by the sword. (Gilles, pp. 134–36.)

“In Protestant principalities the Formula effectively elevated the respective Protestant princes to the status of “bishop” of the local church. Because of this, each Protestant principality developed a church which conformed to the prince’s beliefs, not necessarily to the people’s. Consequently there came to be not one Lutheran denomination but dozens. When the elector of the Palatine territory converted to Calvinism in 1563 … the existence of diverse and competing sects within Germany—and from Germany throughout the rest of Europe—was assured forever.
“In addition to fragmenting Protestantism into a thousand pieces, the Religious Peace of Augsburg also made an absolute shambles of the Empire as a political unit. Now over 300 separate and distinct principalities and free cities in Germany claimed independence and autonomy. In the future the emperors could muster concerted support only in times of dire crisis or through bribery and intimidation. The ‘Holy Roman Empire’ in actuality came to mean only the duchy of Austria. Perhaps the greatest anguish that the religious revolution caused the German nation was the destruction of the very national unity which Luther had hoped to win for his people.” (Gilles, pp. 64–66.)

The supernal wisdom of the great Erasmus now becomes apparent:

“I would rather see things left as they are than see a revolution that may lead to one knows not what.…” (Gilles, p. 24.)

Reasons for Luther’s Success
An interesting question that arises is, Why is it that Luther’s rebellion succeeded, whereas those of the sectaries which preceded him had failed? Luther and his precursors often had the same kind of minds:

“Both men [Wycliffe and Huss] spoke of the Church not as an empirical institution but as a spiritual, unorganized society of those whom God had predestined for salvation. Each man would have replaced the hierarchical priesthood with the priesthood of all believers.” (Gilles, pp. 17–18.)

1 The Rise of German Nationalism
There are several reasons why Luther succeeded when they failed. One reason was that Luther’s revolt coincided with the rise of German nationalism, and Luther took full advantage of that. The Catholic Church could not stamp out Luther as easily as they did Huss or Wycliffe, because this time they were faced with the sentiments of a whole nation, and not just with the vagaries of one man. Luther himself was astonished at the speed with which his “95 thesis” spread throughout Germany, and became the subject of debate. The German nationalists couldn’t care less about Luther’s theological principles; they only saw it as an opportunity to break off the yoke of Rome.

“Thus, nationalistic sentiments, such as the Germans’ pride in their native region, were to be of enormous significance during the Reformation. In 1500 people cherished their newly developing national languages and literatures. They especially resented the fact that they could not even pray in their own tongue but had to worship instead in Latin.
“When Luther’s religious revolution started, Duke Frederick of Saxony (where Luther lived) exploited his subjects’ Saxon pride in order to assert his duchy’s independence from both imperial and papal control. Much the same situation was to prevail in England, where Henry VIII manipulated his subjects’ nationalistic fervor to establish his own Church. (Gilles, p. 14.)

“By 1520 Luther was no longer limiting his theological writings to the indulgence controversy. He had become more than an obscure monk engaged in an arcane theological debate; he was now a national hero standing up to the oppressive Italian hierarchy. Everywhere Germans hailed Luther as the man who would help them achieve their deepest national aspirations. The religious controversy had thus become the means for Germans to express their pent-up nationalistic fervor. Luther capitalized on this burst of national pride. In 1520 he wrote three pamphlets which further politicized the controversy and made reconciliation with Rome increasingly impossible.” (Gilles, p. 45.)

2 Conditions Were Right for Genuine Reform
Another reason why Luther succeeded when others had failed is that the time was right for genuine reform. Reform was in the air. People freely talked about it and discussed it. No one was persecuted for recognizing the need for reform, or for openly discussing or demanding it.

“By the start of the 16th century nearly everyone acknowledged that the Catholic Church was sorely in need of reform—‘reform’ meaning the termination of abuses and the reinstitution of gospel values within the life of the Church. Whether Catholic reform would have taken place without the religious revolution undertaken by the Protestant reformers is something we will never know.” (Gilles, p. 9.)

“In the sixteenth century almost all men, Protestant and Catholic, desired a reformation of the Church. Men thought theologically at that time in a way modern man can hardly imagine. It was only the papal Curia that opposed the reformation in any shape or form.” (Atkinson, p. 297.)

“[Pope] Pius’s significance for the Reformation lies in his failure—despite his high degree of intelligence—to read the signs of the times. Princes, nobles and in many cases native bishops continually called for a reform of the papacy and Curia. When German bishops, sensing their flock’s restlessness, demanded another reform council, Pius sternly prohibited it. The popes still did not appreciate the force that nationalism exerted on Churches beyond the Alps.
“Yet Pius himself constantly pleaded for reform. He was well aware of the tragic consequences in store for a Church plagued by corruption. In 1463, sensing that death was near, Pius sketched his own picture of the papal court.
“‘People say that we live for pleasure, accumulate wealth, bear ourselves arrogantly, ride on fat mules, trail the fringes of our cloaks after us, and show round plump faces beneath the red hat and white hood, keep hounds for the chase, spend much on actors and parasites, and nothing in defense of the Faith. And there is some truth in their words: many among the Cardinals and other officials of our court do lead this kind of life. If the truth be confessed, the luxury and pomp of our court is too great. And this is why we are so detested by the people that they will not listen to us, even when we say what is just and reasonable.’
“It would be the later papacy’s great anguish to look back no Pius’s words as a prophecy that had not been heeded.” (Gilles, pp. 29–30.)

“When Luther visited Renaissance Rome in 1510 he was scandalised by the behaviour of his fellow priests, several of whom frankly admitted to their serious German visitor that they didn’t believe a word of Catholic doctrine and remained in their offices only because of the wealth and privilege these offices brought them. It is little wonder, then, that Luther went back to Germany fuming over the corruption which the Renaissance had brought to the Church. And it is also little wonder that he and other reformers took a very dim view of the art, culture and learning which came out of Italy.
“Other Renaissance writings, too, illustrate how immoral much of the clergy had become. Giovanni Boccaccio (1313–1375), for example, had written a century before Luther of ‘the lewd and filthy lives of the clergy.’ And the satirist Pietro Aretino (1492–1556), demonstrating that conditions had not improved by Luther’s time, wrote, ‘Truly it would be easier to find Rome sober and chaste than a correct book.’ And the historian Francesco Guicciardini (1483–1540) described the papal court as ‘an example of all that is most vile and shameful in the world.’
“Lest one doubt the testimony of these non-saintly observers, the words of St. Catherine of Siena (1347–1380), a Doctor of the Catholic Church, would seem to substantiate the general report:

‘On whatever side you turn—whether to the secular clergy of priests and bishops, or to the religious orders, or to prelates small or great, old or young, you see nothing but offenses; and all stink in my nostrils with a stench of mortal sin. Narrow, greedy, and avaricious, they have abandoned the care of souls. Making a god of their belly, eating and drinking in disorderly feast, they fall thence forthwith into filth, living in lasciviousness, feeding their children with the substance of the poor. They flee from choir service as from prison.’

“We can perhaps now sympathise with Luther, writing from his monastery in staid and devout Germany, fulminating against the abuses which he had seen in pagan Italy. Yet Luther had seen only half the picture. It is characteristic of moral behaviour that vice shouts while virtue whispers. Had Luther probed beneath the surface of Italian Catholicism, he would have found that Christianity had not disappeared and that the Church had not died. While public Catholicism was at times doing its utmost to betray the gospel, privately many Catholics were fighting against the moral decline. Even before Luther, then, the seeds of Catholic reform were being planted.
“Throughout Italy, for example, Catholic preachers denounced abuse in high places. The Franciscan John Capistrano (1386–1456) preached penance and apostolic poverty throughout Italy and in Eastern Europe, and Bernardino of Siena (1380–1444) almost single-handedly reformed the moral climate in many Italian cities and towns. Pope Paul II believed that people were as impressed by Bernardino’s words as the early Christians had been by the preaching of St. Paul.
“A Dominican preacher, Vincent Ferrer (1350–1419), preached successful reform missions in France, Germany and Switzerland, performing great miracles and calling many souls to repentance. Another Dominican, Archbishop Antonius of Florence (1389–1459), personally nursed back to health those struck down by plague. His reputation for sanctity was so great that popes and statesmen alike sought his guidance.…
“Bishops, too, were called to repent of their sins. Archbishop Claude de Seyssel (1450–1520), in his Treatise of the Threefold State of the Wayfarer, vigorously condemned episcopal abuses. And Cardinal Gasparo Contarini (1483–1542), in On the Duty of the Bishop, criticized bishops for ignoring their teaching responsibilities while too readily absorbing the humanist philosophy …
“Thus a great battle had already been joined within the Catholic Church, well before Luther, between the partisans of evangelical poverty and the partisans of clerical wealth and privilege.” (Gilles, pp. 25–27.)

Thus a true reformation was already under way in the Catholic Church, and people everywhere demanded it. Luther rode on the crest of that wave and diverted it into the wrong channels. The reformation that people wanted was not the reformation that Luther gave them. By reformation people meant putting a stop to clerical abuses and corruption, and a return to basic gospel values. Luther completely transformed the Christian religion into something alien to it. He denied the efficacy of good works, bound men down with the yoke of predestination, denied them the right to play a role in the process of their own salvation, and rejected the Christian sacraments and the concept of the ordained priesthood. It is hard to imagine how anything good came out of, or could have come out of the Protestant Reformation. It is true, however, that a lot of good has taken place in the world in spite of the Reformation, which many people mistakenly believe happened because of it.3

Luther the Man
How then shall we judge Luther? Was he an absolute villain? Well, the longer he lived, the harder he tried to become one! But that would not be quite the right way to judge him either. There is little reason to doubt the general consensus of his biographers that he had been a man of upright character. It is also true that his initial indignation at the sale of indulgences, which sparked off his revolt, had been a righteous indignation. It is equally true that had he been correctly dealt with by the Catholic Church from the beginning, that a revolution could have been averted. This is something that fair-minded Catholic writers admit:

“At this early stage of the indulgence controversy, a religious revolution could certainly have been avoided through compassionate and brotherly dialogue between Luther and the hierarchy. That such a dialogue never took place was not Luther’s fault but the fault, in the last analysis, of Pope Leo X, who dismissed the German indulgence controversy as ‘the squabble of monks’ and returned to his pleasures.” (Gilles, p. 42.)

Nevertheless he quickly took the wrong turn, and never changed course. He became increasingly obstinate and intransigent in his attitude, went into forbidden paths, and was led far astray. There are indications that in his early years he was beset with sins from which he was not able to extricate himself. His biographers describe these as his “spiritual temptations” and “severe bouts of depression” etc. He developed his doctrine of “justification by faith alone” well before his revolt from Rome, and as an escape route from his own problems. Subsequently he extended it to a full blown doctrine of predestination. He was a bit of a “Nehorite” in this respect; he “did not believe in the repentance of his sins” (Alma 15:15). He displayed that characteristic throughout his life. He became the epitome of that “contentiousness” which the Lord resoundingly condemns in these words:

“For verily, verily I say unto you, he that hath the spirit of contention is not of me, but is of the devil, who is the father of contention, and stirreth the hearts of men to contend with anger one with another.
“Behold, this is not my doctrine, to stir up the hearts of men with anger one against another; but this is my doctrine, that such things should be done away.” (3 Nephi 11:29–30.)

Luther imbibed this evil spirit like a sponge. He drank the dregs of the bitter cup until he was drunken with it as with sweet wine. Towards the end of his life he became consumed with hatred towards his adversaries and opponents, real and imaginary. He went to his grave ablaze with hatred and revenge towards the Pope, towards Erasmus, towards the Jews (God knows why!) and towards anybody else whom he could find an excuse for hating. He breathed into Christianity a spirit of bitterness, religious hatred, and contentiousness which characterized his own spirit, and which has plagued Protestantism to this day. It is impossible to describe in a few words the bitter hatred, venom, rancor, and obscene and abusive language with which he raged, raved, railed, reviled, cursed and denounced his adversaries and opponents, or those who disagreed with him in any way, especially towards the end of his life. He even railed against men who were far greater and better than himself, whose only fault had been that they tried to show him his mistakes, and who did so with the utmost decorum, decency, courtesy, and respect. He “lived to rail against Erasmus almost more than against the Pope” (Bainton, p. 23). Lohse, who is a deeply pro-Lutheran writer, and who makes every effort to portray Luther in the best possible light, gives us the following glimpses into this ugly side of his character:

“For this same reason, Luther’s polemic against the papacy became as sharp as we can possibly imagine during the last years of his life. His attacks were simply unrestrained.” (Lohse, p. 39.)

“It was obvious that this kind of sharp polemic suggested, and even demanded, its own illustrations. In fact, Luther some years later did not hesitate to seek the help of Lukas Cransch as the illustrator of his totally and extravagantly polemical writing, Against the Roman Papacy, an Institution of the Devil (1545).… The content of some of these pictures is scatological and all of them express a deep hatred of the papacy. This hatred was undoubtedly common among the people. Still, these pictures must also have stimulated the lowest instincts of those who saw them. Luther composed Latin inscriptions and German verses to accompany these pictures. Their basic content is that the pope and his cardinals should be hanged.” (Lohse, p. 89.)

His anti-Semitism is still another ugly side of his character:

“When this strong apocalyptic expectation is taken into account, we can understand why Luther, in his last years, asserted that Jewish worship service should be forbidden. Luther, like many of his contemporaries, felt that what happened in the synagogue was public blasphemy. They felt that such blasphemy had to be prevented, otherwise they would call down God’s immediate judgement upon themselves. (Lohse, p. 39.)

“Luther’s attitude toward the Jews was a dark chapter in his dealing with the questions of the time. Undoubtedly, the sharp polemic that was so widespread in the sixteenth century played a great role in this. And yet the problems associated with Luther’s attitude toward the Jews lay much deeper than this. Here we are dealing with questions of theology and of ‘conversion;’ with prejudices that, at that time, were taken for granted; and with intolerance. In all of this, it is particularly noteworthy that Luther originally encountered the Jews in a much more open way. Later in life, however, he spoke out against them with such vehemence that leading National Socialists at the time of Hitler felt they were entitled to claim Luther as a patron of their persecution of the Jews.… In addition, however, we must remember the fact that the attitudes toward the Jews in the sixteenth century were not focused on the questions of race but rather on the differences in belief. In spite of this, there can be no doubt that Luther in his old age made extravagantly immoderate statements about the Jews, just as he had earlier made such statements about the peasants.” (Lohse, pp. 89–90.)

He advocated a murderous persecution of the Jews, which was carried out by his followers both in his lifetime as well as after his death. There is a direct link between Luther and the Nazi persecution of the Jews. The persecution of the Jews in Nazi Germany did not occur in a vacuum. The reason why the Nazis were able to do as they did and get away with it, was because a strong culture of anti-Semitism already existed in German society at the time which made it possible. And the chief architect of that culture of anti-Semitism in German society at that time had been Martin Luther. He was the one chiefly responsible for creating the cultural environment which made that persecution possible.

Luther as Seen by Others
Protestant writers sometimes display extraordinary hypocrisy when it comes to discussing Luther and the Reformation. Lohse for example declares:

“It would be very inadequate to describe Luther as merely the mouthpiece of the people, no matter how much that seemed to be the case in the tumultuous early years of the Reformation. Luther proclaimed the message of the Bible to the people with the full authority of the Bible itself.” (Lohse, p. 96.)

In another place he says:

“Luther, however, in contrast to the early orthodox theologians of the late sixteenth century, did not develop any doctrine of verbal inspiration. Quite the opposite is true. For example, Luther was openly critical of the substance of certain portions of Scripture, particularly of the letter of James. His norm in making this criticism was the Pauline doctrine of justification. The total breadth of Luther’s understanding of the authority of Scripture can be represented by three quotations:
“‘Neither councils, fathers, nor we, in spite of the greatest and best success possible, will do as well as the Holy Scriptures, that is, as well as God himself has done.’
“‘The clothes in which the infant Jesus was wrapped “are nothing but Holy Scripture, in which Christian faith lies wrapped up’
“‘God and the Scripture of God are two things, no less than the Creator and the creature are two things.’” (Lohse, p. 156.)

It is statements such as these which tend to deceive and beguile many unsuspecting latter-day Saints who only carry out a superficial study of the subject; or who only study the subject in order to reinforce their traditional beliefs, but do not have the independence of mind to put aside their traditions and look at the subject from a fresh angle.
Out of the four books which I have chosen to quote from in this essay, three of them are Protestant and one is Catholic. Of the three Protestant ones, two of them, Lohse and Atkinson, are nauseatingly pro-Lutheran. Only Bainton has succeeded in maintaining a measure of impartiality. The degree of hypocrisy with which Protestant writers sometimes discuss this subject is staggering:

“Erasmus never understood the evangelical theology—his very goodness, his decency, is intellect, his character, his refined taste, served to prevent the Gospel speaking to him. He hardly had need of the Gospel. He was blind to the Christian doctrine of salvation for he was not aware of anything to be saved from.” (Atkinson, p. 233.)

In other words according to Atkinson, Erasmus was too good, too virtuous, too pure, too upright, too intelligent, too wise, too decent, too sensible to be able to understand the gospel properly. He needed a bit more wickedness in him, more stupidity and foolishness and indecency in him to be able to do that. The implication being, of course, that Martin Luther amply qualified! And who would want to argue with him about that.
It can be difficult to study Luther properly by reading only books which have been written about him. One must also read some of the things written by him. He is such a controversial character that it is almost impossible to write books about him without taking sides. Even those who succeed in maintaining a measure of impartiality often fail to paint a correct picture of him and his work, because they fail to see the relative importance of the various issues and put them in the right perspective. Consider the following quotation which has already appeared at the beginning of the article, but this time with explanatory comments added in the text:

“Luther’s initial cry was not a castigation of the crew [i.e. the clerical hierarchy of the Catholic Church]. It was the ship [i.e. the Church itself as an institution] to which he objected. ‘Others,’ said he, ‘have attacked the life [i.e. moral life of the clergy]. I attack the doctrine.’ Not the abuses of medieval Catholicism [which existed and was commonly acknowledged], but Catholicism itself as an abuse of the Gospel [on doctrinal grounds] was the object of his onslaught. Luther congratulated Erasmus for perceiving what others had missed, that the quarrel centred on the view of man and God [i.e. predestination versus freewill]. The Catholic Church had in his judgement too low an opinion of the majesty and the holiness of God and too high an estimate of the worth and potentiality of man [because she maintained that man was capable of contributing to his own salvation by freely choosing good and rejecting evil]. And this was true not of the worst Catholics, but of the best.” (Bainton, p. 24.)

I have deliberately quoted this passage twice, once at the beginning of the essay and once at the end, so that the reader can see how his opinion of it has changed after reading the essay. The first time that he read it he probably sympathized with it; but now I hope that he doesn’t. If one reads the above passage without the remarks in square brackets, and without being fully aware of the issues involved, it tends to portray Luther in a favorable light. This is not because Roland Bainton is inherently a prejudiced historian (although his sympathies definitely lie with Protestantism), but because he doesn’t know any better. From the perspective of Latter-day Saints, Luther’s denial of human freedom in matters pertaining to eternal salvation is of the utmost importance. It is the great touchstone by which the value of his entire life’s work can be assessed (Moses 4:3; 2 Ne. 2:24, 26–27; Hel. 14:30; D&C 58:27–28; 98:8). But from Bainton’s point of view this is just another acceptable philosophy of life which is not any “better” or “worse” than its alternative. The difference between them, as he sees it, is like the difference between two men one of whom likes wearing a red tie, and the other likes wearing a green tie. Neither can be said to be any “better” or “worse” than the other. Both are equally acceptable. The only thing that matters to Bainton is that the Catholic Church was badly in need of reform, and Luther appeared to champion that cause, and therefore that makes him some great one. These are the kinds of difficulties one faces when trying to study Luther and the Reformation by reading only books which have been written about him; hence the necessity of forming one’s own opinion by reading some of the things which have been written by him. The problem is that he is such a prolific writer that one has difficulty deciding on a suitable selection. Lohse’s advice on that is probably as good as anybody else’s:

“It is never enough for a theologian to be acquainted only with Luther’s three Reformation writings of 1520: To the German Nobility; The Babylonian Captivity of the Church; and The Freedom of a Christian. This is true even though these writings—because of their development of the doctrine of the priesthood of all believers, and of the Reformation understanding of the sacraments, as well as the understanding of freedom—are particularly significant. Together with these writings, The Bondage of the Will should be the focal point of a study of Luther. In addition, a theologian must also be familiar with Luther’s Ninety-five Theses on Indulgences, some of the sermons of 1519, The Magnificat, and The Smalcald Articles. A thorough knowledge of these writings is the necessary basis for gaining a definite overview of the theology of the Reformation.” (Lohse, p. 123.)

In addition to these Erasmus’s initial treatise on freewill, as well as his subsequent reply to Luther should be read. Also, some of Luther’s deeply polemical writings, such as Against the Roman Papacy, an Institution of the Devil; as well as some of his more politicized writings need to be read.
It is said that more books have been written about Martin Luther than about any other man who has lived with the exception of Jesus Christ. His followers cite that as a mark of his greatness; but I am inclined to put a different interpretation on that. I believe that the world is still baffled by Luther. They don’t know what to make of him. The last word about Luther has not yet been written. The Protestants eulogize him; the Catholics vilify him; and those who are not religiously inclined (as well as those who are) often fail to see the relative importance of the various theological and moral issues involved so as to be able to put them in the right perspective. Hence Luther has remained, perhaps more than any other major historical figure who has ever lived, an enigma to the present day. Men and women have constantly striven to understand him better; but that understanding, like the pot at the end of the rainbow, has constantly eluded them. The world simply does not possess the necessary understanding of the gospel, or the necessary impartiality to be able to judge Luther correctly. Only Latter-day Saints can have that. The last word about Luther will one day have to be written by a Latter-day Saint. But it will take a very special kind of Latter-day Saint to be able to do that. He must not only be a good scholar and a good historian; he must also have a deep and thorough understanding of the theology of the gospel in the light of modern revelation; and he must also have the independence of mind to put aside his own cultural prejudices and misconceptions, and look at the subject from a fresh angle. That is a rare combination.

Conclusion
In the light of this study, what should the attitude of Latter-day Saints be towards the great debate between Catholicism and Protestantism? I believe that their attitude in general should be one of neutrality. The theology of the Restoration completely traverses and bypasses that great controversy and schism. However, there are a number of mitigating factors which ought to be taken into consideration:

1. The Prophet Joseph Smith never condoned the Protestant Reformation; nor did he ever speak evil of the Catholic Church. Joseph Smith in his Teachings often speaks scathingly of what he calls “sectarianism,” by which he always means Protestantism; but on the only recorded instance, as far as I know, that he has spoken on the subject, he has spoken well of the Catholic Church:

“The old Catholic church traditions4 are worth more than all you have said. Here is a principle of logic that most men have no more sense than to adopt. I will illustrate it by an old apple tree. Here jumps off a branch and says, I am the true tree, and you are corrupt. If the whole tree is corrupt, are not its branches corrupt? If the Catholic religion is a false religion, how can any true religion come out of it? If the Catholic Church is bad, how can any good thing come out of it?
“The character of the old churches have always been slandered by all apostates since the world began. I testify again, as the Lord lives, God never will acknowledge any traitors or apostates. Any man who will betray the Catholics will betray you; and if he will betray me, he will betray you.…
“It is in the order of heavenly things that God should always send a new dispensation into the world when men have apostatized from the truth and lost the priesthood; but when men come out and build upon another man’s foundations [i.e. the Reformers building on the Catholic foundation], they do it on their own responsibility, without authority from God; and when the floods come and the winds blow, their foundations will be found to be sand, and their whole fabric will crumble to dust.”5

In these passages Joseph Smith has clearly identified the Protestant Reformers as “traitors and apostates.” It is difficult to arrive at any other conclusion.

2. The Catholic Church has never persecuted the Latter-day Saints; whereas the Protestant churches have often done so; and they still continue to do so whenever that opportunity is presented to them.

3. The fundamental theological position of Protestantism is essentially false and heretical; whereas that of the Catholic Church is, generally speaking, correct, although some errors have crept into it over time. A number of brilliant English theologians of the 19th century, John Henry Newman being the foremost among them, who were forced to examine this issue very closely because of the circumstances of the time, became so convinced of this that they left the Anglican church and became Catholics, and suffered a great deal of persecution and personal abuse from the establishment as a result.

4. The Catholic Church has been primarily responsible for maintaining, defending, preserving, and extending the basic Christian doctrines, teachings, and testimony in the world over the centuries, which has prompted the Lord to restore the gospel through the Gentiles in the latter days (3 Nephi 16:6–7). Without the Catholic Church that tradition could not have been preserved in the world, and the consequences of that loss would have been incalculable. The Catholic Church has been the repository of that great faith, Scripture, and tradition; and she has successfully defended the basic Christian beliefs against heresy over the centuries, such as against the great Arian heresy of the 4th century, and indeed against the Protestant heresy of the 16th century. She therefore deserves the sympathy and respect of Latter-day Saints above all other Christian denominations.

5. It is the Protestant Reformation which has been directly responsible for the fragmentation of Christianity into the profusion of sects and denominations which, in the language of the Book of Mormon prophet Jacob, have borne “the most bitter fruit” (Jacob 5:52, 57, 65); and which elsewhere in modern scripture has been condemned (e.g. 1 Nephi 22:23; D&C 10:56). All those “thousands of churches” which Elder Le Grand Richards used to love to tell us about at General Conference, are the splintered remains and broken fragments of shipwrecked and discredited Protestantism.

6. The Catholic Church has in recent years and decades stood firm on her basic beliefs and teachings; whereas the Protestant churches have, on the one hand, either been swayed by the tide of modernism, liberalism, and populism to abandon many of the basic Christian doctrines and values (e.g. on abortion and the resurrection); or, on the other hand, have moved in the direction of religious fundamentalism, extremism, intolerance, and fanaticism. We may not agree with everything that the Catholic Church does or teaches; but at least we can say that she has been consistent. The same cannot be said of Protestantism.

7. The “great and abominable church” etc. that is mentioned in the book of First Nephi does not refer to the Catholic Church (cf. 1 Nephi 14:10; 2 Nephi 10:16). Much of the derogatory material that have appeared in the past among Latter-day Saints about the Catholic Church have been based on a serious misunderstanding of the scriptures, and indeed are derived from Protestant traditions and not from the restored gospel. As the majority of Latter-day Saints have been drawn into the Church from the Protestant world, they have tended to bring along with them many of their false Protestant traditions which has bedeviled their understanding of the historical development of Christianity.6 If the matter is observed impartially, it can be seen that the Catholic Church is, and has always been the noblest, the most virtuous, and the most dignified of all Christian denominations; and even today is able to provide a more meaningful religious experience for her adherents than most Protestant denominations.

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Bibliography

James Atkinson, Martin Luther and the Birth of Protestantism. Great Britain: Penguin Books, 1968.

Roland H. Bainton, The Reformation of the Sixteenth Century. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1953.

Anthony E. Gilles, The People of Anguish. USA: St. Anthony Messenger Press, 1987.

Bernhard Lohse, Martin Luther: An Introduction to His Life and Work. Trans. Robert C. Schultz. UK: T & T Clark Ltd, 1987.

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Notes

1 The reference is to Rev. 12:4, 7–9; D&C 29:36–37; 76:25–26; Moses 4:1–4; Isa. 14:12–15; Abr. 3:27–28; 3:26.
2 Teachings, p. 375.
3 Catholic reform eventually got under way in the Council of Trent. It will be particularly interesting for Latter-day Saints to note how the council dealt with the central issue of Protestantism: the doctrine of justification. Anthony E. Gilles has a good discussion on that in his book, The People of Anguish, to which the interested reader is referred.
4 Actually he is reported to have said “Catholic Church,” not “Catholic Church traditions” (see Words of). The editors of his Teachings evidently felt that that is not what he could have said or meant, and therefore changed it to “Catholic Church traditions.” I believe that Joseph Smith both said, and meant “Catholic Church.” Joseph Smith had no quarrels with the Catholic Church. He had no reason to. It was the Protestants whom he had a quarrel with—or rather, they had a quarrel with him.
5 Teachings, p. 375.
6 The early American Christians, from whom most of the early converts to the Church were drawn, were for the most part of the Puritan tradition; and the Puritans were saddled with some very serious theological errors and false doctrines, which they had a hard time giving up on. One of them was that they were intensely anti-Catholic. Their hatred of and animosity towards the Catholic Church was uncompromising. And they brought that along with them into the Church, which had lingered on in the Church until quite recent times. That was one reason why the Lord could not at that time reveal to them many great truths and mysteries which they otherwise might have received, as Joseph Smith has pointed out in his Teachings: “I have tried for a number of years to get the minds of the Saints prepared to receive the things of God; but we frequently see some of them, after suffering all they have for the work of God, will fly to pieces like glass as soon as anything comes that is contrary to their traditions: they cannot stand the fire at all.” (p. 331). See further endnote 2 in the article on “A Reappraisal of the Doctrine of the Godhead Based on the Lectures on Faith;” also endnote 3 in the article, “Causes of Theological Dislocation in the Early History of the Church”.