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Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 9

Martin Luther Wittenbrerg doors

Rev. Donavon Riley

Martin Luther’s move to Wittenberg did not lighten his workload at all. In fact, if anything, after he received his special license that made him a candidate for the doctorate in 1512, Luther’s life became so busy he barely had time to sleep.

“I could use two secretaries,” Luther wrote, “I do almost nothing during the day but write letters… I am a preacher at the monetary, a reader at meals, a parish preacher, director of studies, supervisor of eleven monasteries, superintendent of the fish pond at Litzkau, referee of a squabble at Torgau, lecturer on Paul, a collector of materials for a commentary on the Psalms, and then, as I said, I am overwhelmed with letters. I rarely have time for the required daily prayers and saying mass, not to mention my own temptations with the world, the flesh, and the devil. You see how lazy I am.”

Still, the old nagging questions hung onto him. Martin was still in search of a merciful God. As “lazy” as he imagined himself to be, or not, Luther’s studies and teaching led him deeper into Scripture. He searched, and wrote, and lectured, and preached like a man on his hands and knees crawling through the valley of the shadow of death. He hunted God through the Bible, specifically the Old Testament, which was where his particular theological expertise lay.

This is why, as Luther later said, “I did not learn my theology all at once, but had to search deeper for it, where my temptations took me.”

During his early years as a lecturer Luther taught the book of Genesis (1512), the Psalms (1513-15151), Romans (1515-1516), Galatians (1516-1517), Hebrews (1517-1518), and again the Psalms (1518-1521).

And through them all, Luther was hunting for God’s mercy. He chased after “the righteousness of God,” to understand what “righteousness” meant. As Luther said years later, “I hated that word [at Romans 1:17], ‘the righteousness of God,’ which, according to the custom and the use of teachers, I had been taught to understand in the philosophical sense with respect to the formal or active righteousness, as they called it, with which God is righteous and punishes the unrighteous sinner.”

“Though I lived as a monk without reproach,” he said, “I felt, with the most disturbed conscience imaginable, that I was a sinner before God. I did not love, indeed I hated the righteous God who punishes sinners and secretly (if not blasphemously and certainly with great grumbling) I was angry with God, and said, “As if indeed it is not enough that miserable sinners, eternally lost through eternal sin, are crushed by every kind of calamity by the law of the Ten Commandments, without having God add pain to pain by the gospel and also by the gospel’s threatening us with his righteousness and wrath!”

This is why he had been taught, and continued to teach in his early lectures, that when St. Paul wrote that “the righteous live by faith,” Luther had to be righteous to be given and keep faith. Martin did not care how sinners come to God. He was only interested in how a Christian can live with a God whose demand for righteousness can never be satisfied.

God was righteous and holy. Martin Luther was not. And the Gospel, no matter how many times he heard it, taught it, or preached it, gave his heart no rest. Luther heard the Gospel, but the question stuck in his mind: “How can I ‘live by faith?'”

Next time, we will look at Luther’s biblical lectures and how these lectures led him to the discovery that changed not just the Christian Church, but the world.

Rev. Donavon Riley serves as pastor at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota.

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Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 8

Luther in Rome

By Rev. Donavon Riley

Martin Luther’s time in the monastery, all his study and work, all his searching for a merciful God, kept leading him back to the same point: If he wanted to enter into eternal life he needed to make sure he was always leaning toward heaven.

It didn’t matter if he was praying, or scrubbing floors, or just out for a walk, Luther was taught by every authority in the church, that if he just did his best, God would show him grace. But, only if the young monk did his best.

As Luther later said, when he thought back about this time in the monastery, “I Iost hold of Christ the Savior and comforter and made him a stick-master and hangman over my poor soul.”

There was not anything during those early years that shows us Luther was going to bust loose from what the church of his day believed and confessed as the truth about God, salvation, and so on. In fact, young Martin pretty much went along with what he was taught, even after he began to teach at university. He lived the way he was expected to live. He taught what he was expected to teach. He was, by most everybody’s opinion, a good and faithful monk.

Even his trip to Rome in 1510 did not change his attitude toward the faith of the Church. Near his 27th birthday, Luther was sent by his order to Rome in the hope that someone higher up, with more authority in the Church, could settle some political infighting that was happening amongst the monastic orders.

Luther and one other monk walked to Rome in the winter of that year—yes, they walked to Rome, over the Alps, in the winter!—as representatives of their order. Even though Luther expected to find a Rome (and a pope) that represented an example of faith, hope, and charity for the whole Church, what he found was something different.

First, the pope was not even in the city when Luther was there. Second, Rome was not a clean city. Garbage and sewage were dumped into the gutters. Wealthy people, especially women, avoided walking on the streets, mostly because they were under constant threat of being mugged. Third, Luther wanted to say a Mass at one of the little chapels that were everywhere in Rome at the time, but they were so jammed with priests wanting to do the same, that when he got his turn at an altar another priest behind him kept saying, “Hurry up! Hurry up!” the whole time. All in all, his experience in Rome was so bad that Luther, when he returned to Wittenberg, said that Romans were no better than dogs.

Still, he was able to overlook the poor conditions of the city and the overall miserable piety of the clergy he saw there, that as he later said, Luther “was so drunk… submerged in the Pope’s dogmas that I would have been ready to murder all… who take but a syllable from the obedience to the pope.” Life in Rome may not have been what Luther expected, but his hope in the Church and God’s grace were there for him, even if they were hidden and had to be hunted up.

When the young monk got back to Erfurt, and it was determined that what Rome had decided about their infighting was unacceptable, monks took sides. That is why, in the end, Luther and his friend Johannes Lang, were more or less pushed out of the monastery and sent into exile, to live at the monastery in Wittenberg, the “Black Cloister,” with their superior and friend in the Augustinian order, Johann von Staupitz.

Next time, we will look at what kind of city Wittenberg was in 1511, and what happened to Luther when he arrived.

Rev. Donavon Riley is the pastor of St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota. 

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Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 7

Martin Luther and Staupitz learning the Gospel

Rev. Donavon Riley

Martin Luther was now living with fifty other monks at the Augustinian monastery at Erfurt. Along with the regular monastic observances that occupied his time, “Brother Martinus,” as he was now called, spent much of his day sweeping and cleaning. Little time was left to him to continue his studies or pursue his questions about where he might find a merciful God.

But, at the same time, the new vicar general of the Erfurt monastery, Johann von Staupitiz, learned from others of Luther’s interest in biblical studies. After speaking to the young monk, Staupitz persuaded the monastery’s prior to give Luther a new job that would set him to the work of memorizing the Bible. Luther was now expected to learn the Bible, and be able to recite every page, from heart. Luther did this and impressed Staupitz so much that his career path as a professor of theology was practically certain.

However, before that could happen, and not even a year after he had entered the monastery, Brother Martinus was ordained into the priesthood. On April 3, 1507 (possibly on Easter Saturday) Luther was ordained. One month later, on May 2, he celebrated his first Mass at the Augustinian church.

By Luther’s own words, it was a difficult thing for him, that first Mass. As he later said while lecturing about Isaac’s prayer in the book of Genesis:

“‘And Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife, because she was barren: and the Lord answered his prayer'” (Genesis 25:21). A prayer like this, which breaks through the clouds and reaches up to the majesty of God, is not easy. I, ashes, dust, and full of sin, speak with the living, eternally true God. This cannot but cause one to tremble, as did I when I celebrated the Mass… joyous faith, however, which rests on the mercy and the Word of God overcomes the fear of his majesty…and rises boldly above it.”

By 1507, Luther was on his way to becoming a Master of Theology, under the watchful eye of his professor, Johannes Nathin. By April 1508, Martin was scheduled to lecture. At Wittenberg, Staupitz set Luther to lecturing on Aristotle’s “Ethics” for the winter semester. Luther also prepared to receive his doctorate in theology at that time. In the autumn of 1509, he was called back to Erfurt to lecture, too. But that lasted only three-quarters of a year. Soon enough, Luther was called back to Wittenberg as a member of the theological faculty.

The next several years were critical for Luther as a monk and theologian. Church politics, the testing of personal allegiances, and a visit to Rome changed everything for him.

Next week we will look at just what happened to Martin that eventually resulted in his reformation breakthrough.

Note: If you’ve enjoyed these articles and want to know more about Martin Luther, I’ve been following the work of the remarkable Luther scholar, Heidi Obermann, in his book: Luther: Man Between God and The Devil. Also, in the weeks and months that follow I will introduce you, the reader, to other works by Luther scholars that I believe will help deepen your knowledge and appreciation for Luther’s life and work. Enjoy!

Rev. Donavon Riley is the pastor of St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota. He is also the online content manager for Higher Things.

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Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 6

Martin Luther with tonsure

Rev. Donavon Riley

Later in life, Martin Luther remarked that he had entered the monastery in search of a gracious God. He was driven, he said, “by trembling and fidgeting.” He was worried, after two near-death experiences, that God would not allow him to enter into Paradise.

Reflecting on his time in the monastery, Martin said, “I did not think about women, money, or possessions; instead my heart trembled and fidgeted about whether God would bestow his grace on me… for I had strayed from faith and could not but imagine that I had angered God, whom I in turn had to appease by doing good works.”

Luther was taught that his sanctification, his holiness in relation to God, came by works. On the one hand, all monks believed their entry into a monastic life was a divine call and they had been ushered into the monastery by God’s grace. On the other hand, they believed if they didn’t fight the good fight of faith they would never achieve the prize of forgiveness, life, and eternal salvation. For Luther, and all monks, grace was both gift and obligation.

But Luther was also taught it was not his responsibility to walk alone into the Last Judgment. On the way, he would receive help from the Holy Spirit, the Virgin Mary and St. Augustine, and other saints. All of them who had gone ahead of Luther into heavenly glory were always ready to help him in his fight against temptation, sin, and the devil. The only question for him was, “Will you accept their offer and rely on them to direct you to your final, heavenly goal?”

It wasn’t until later, after he’d been shown the Gospel, that Luther recognized the devil’s pre-occupation with good works. But, for Martin, the devil, by attacking him in this way, had actually helped the young monk to rediscover the Gospel. Luther said, “I became a monk by driving my head through the wall: against the will of my father, my mother, of God, and of the devil.”

This “driving his head through the wall,” for Luther, is what eventually caused him to collide with the practice of selling indulgences. Also, after wearing the monk’s cowl for fifteen years, Martin was prepared to speak knowledgeably and articulately about life for a generation of monks and nuns. As he was drawn closer and closer to Gospel freedom, the burden placed on himself and his fellow monastics became an unbearable weight. It broke his back, and caused him to cry out, not to St. Anne this time, but to God, and in that he received the answer he had long searched for: good news about a merciful God—a God who was for him and was the One who led him to confess: “Christ is different than Moses, the pope, and the whole world. He is not just different, he is far more than our conscience…When the conscience attacks you, he says, ‘Believe!'”

Next time, we will look more at Luther’s life in the monastery, his trip to Rome, and his increasing conflict with the sale of indulgences.

Rev. Donavon Riley is the pastor of St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota.

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Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 5

Young Martin Luther the Monk

Rev. Donavon Riley

Martin Luther wasn’t even 22 years old when he approached the monastery door in Erfurt. But he’d made up his mind. He knocked on the door of the Augustinian hermits. Martin asked the prior—the man responsible for running the monastery—to admit him.

Then Luther turned his back on a career in law, his father’s expectations, and his friends’ concerns. He allowed fear to drive him into a cloistered life. But why?

At the end of the winter semester in 1503, Martin traveled home to Mansfeld. On the way, the ceremonial dagger (a popular affectation amongst students at that time) Luther wore at his side stabbed him in the leg, probably in the femoral artery—a very dangerous, often fatal wound. A friend who had travelled with him ran to fetch a doctor, since they were still in sight of the city walls. While Luther laid there, propped against a tree, feet pointed toward the heavens, he prayed to the Mother of God: “Oh, Mary, help.” But that wasn’t the event that drove him to seek out the Augustinian hermits in Erfurt. It was, however, the beginning of the end of his law studies.

The second life threatening event, the one that finally drove young Martin into a monastery, happened on July 2, 1505. Caught in a thunderstorm, Luther believed he was about to die (again), and as fear overwhelmed him he cried out, “Help, St. Anne, [and] I will become a monk!” Family and friends tried to talk Martin out of his decision, but it was no use. Two weeks after the storm Luther threw a “going away” party for his friends. The next morning, he went and knocked on the monastery door. “You see me today and never again,” he said. He thought that was the last he’d see of the world. But it wasn’t to be for Luther. As he later remarked, “To the world I had died till God thought it was time.” Some of his friends, like Crotus Rubeanus and Johannes Nathin, compared Luther’s conversion to that of St. Paul. But, Martin didn’t see it that way, and neither did the Augustinian hermits.

Upon entry into the monastery, he was first questioned: Why did he want to join the order? Was his call truly “from God.” What happened during the storm near Stotterheim? Was he filled with fear and trembling about eternal life? Only after the order decided whether his answers were honest and true, was Luther admitted into the monastic life. He was informed of their decision when, as he lay face down at the prior’s feet, the prior prayed: “Oh, God, who kindles the hearts of those who have been converted from the vanity of the world to the victorious prize of the heavenly calling… May they recognize that the grace of their conversion has been granted gratuitously… Amen.”

Luther had come to the monastery for one purpose only. After two near-death experiences, overcome by fear and driven to question everything he’d done up to that point, what Luther wanted more than anything, what he ached for more than money, fame, or his father’s approval, was to find the merciful God.

Next time we will learn about what life was like for the young monk, Martin Luther.

Rev. Donavon Riley is the pastor of St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota.

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Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 4

Wood carving of Luther rose
Saved by Christ alone

Rev. Donavon Riley

After four years at the university in Erfurt, Luther had become “magister atrium“, which is what we know as a Master of Liberal Arts. He finished second amongst seventeen students who were candidates to receive a degree that year. By the time young Martin was prepared to test for his degree, he’d devoted four years of study primarily to the classic Greek philosopher, Aristotle and all his works on metaphysics, politics, ethics, and economics.

An exciting part of a student’s education at that time happened during the last two years at university. Students learned how to interpret and debate important topics, usually from the works of Aristotle. They also were expected to devote more time to the “quadrivium”—music, arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy.

University was intense for any student. Administration and faculty set high expectations for learning and academic achievement. To make sure everyone was focused on their studies, students lived together in what we call “dorms” under strict supervision. Free time or taking a break from studies was not considered to be a part of a student’s daily routine. In fact, university life was very much based on a monastic style of life.

But, since life was so difficult during the late Middle Ages, why would anyone want to attend university? Why go through such a strict curriculum—one which many students could not complete? What was the upside to a university education and degree during such dark, apocalyptic times?

The simple answer is because there was an opportunity to become a theologian, lawyer, or doctor. Rulers and authorities always needed lawyers, especially as feudalism continued to crumble and capitalism began to capture peoples’ imaginations. More and more, daily life in city, town, and village was run by bureaucrats rather than dukes, earls, and lords.

In the field of medicine, Germany lagged far behind more medically advanced countries like Italy and England. A town doctor in Germany at the turn of the sixteenth century was, to put the best construction on things, one step above the local butcher for skill and usefulness. And often, it was the butcher who was the town doctor and dentist! But, there was a push to write new, up-to-date medical books and improve the quality of medical faculties at universities, and that meant a demand for more gifted young doctors.

Finally, skilled theologians were much sought after by the growing university faculties of Europe. Theological studies were, after all, considered “the queen of the faculties.”

To sum up, a university degree meant status, money, and a better life, not just for an individual, but possibly for his whole family.

After Luther’s success with the Master of Arts exam, his father, Hans, gifted his son with a sum of money so Martin could buy the necessary books to continue his law studies. However, several weeks later, young Martin returned the books unused to the bookseller in Gotha. He didn’t need them anymore, he said. He’d made a decision not to pursue a law degree. Martin had decided to enter the monastery instead, stunning both family and friends.

That’s why, after throwing a “going away” party, of sorts for his friends, Martin then entered the Augustinian monastery in Erfurt on July 16, 1505. Later, when he reflected on this decision at his dinner table at the “Black Cloister” in Wittenberg, Luther remarked that his decision to ignore his father’s authority, to disregard everything Hans had suffered and sacrificed so his son could enjoy a better life than he, was a sin. Luther said that he had made his decision to enter the monastery out of fear. “But how much good the merciful Lord has allowed to come of it!” he said.

Next week we will read about what motivated Luther to give up his law studies and enter a monastery. It was a big decision for Martin, and a decision that ended up affecting not just church history, but world history.

Rev. Donavon Riley is the pastor of St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota.

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Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 3

Paying indulgences

Rev. Donavon Riley

Martin Luther, like most people during the sixteenth century, lived during a time of both earthly and spiritual insecurity. Frequent wars, plagues, peasant revolts, and famine meant people had to struggle to secure daily bread. And, at the same time that they were worried about sustenance, the church taught that sins could be atoned for by praying to the saints, making pilgrimages, worshipping holy relics, and the like.

The world Luther grew up in was an apocalyptic time. Death could overcome a person at any moment. The Grim Reaper, Four Horsemen, and other end times figures were popular in literature, art, and music. Images of fire and brimstone occupied the church’s imagination, too. Jesus wasn’t pictured as a merciful shepherd or suffering servant, but as a judge seated on a rainbow throne, a two-edged sword coming out one side of his mouth and a lily the other. They symbolized judgment and mercy, death and resurrection. This meant that the primary question on Christian’s minds was: “What must I do to avoid the sword and receive the lily?”

The church’s answer was, “Do what is in you.” Then, God willing, the church would dispense grace to penitent sinners.

To this end, at least once a year, people were expected to confess their sins to a priest. Of course, the more often the faithful Christian confessed his sins the better, but at least once a year was required. In fact, before he could go to communion, he was obligated to go to a priest for confession and absolution. However, if the priest didn’t feel the sins confessed were sincere, honest, or expressed from a contrite heart, he would ban the offender from communion until such time as he made a proper, sincere confession of sins.

Then there was purgatory. In Luther’s day, the church taught that anyone who had not done enough in this life to be purged of all their earthly sins must pay for them in purgatory. As Luther scholar James Kittelson writes: “They would sweat out every unremitted sin before they could see the gates of heaven,” unless, of course, a family member or friend could afford to offer a monetary “gift” to the church in return for a loved one’s release from purgatory.

The “indulgences” as they were called, were legal documents that came with fill-in-the-blank spaces for the purchaser, for those whom he wanted to buy out of purgatory, how many years off purgatory he wanted to pay down, and so on.

Young Martin Luther came of age in a religious culture that mirrored the world. If he worked hard enough, maybe he received his just desserts. In the same way, if he was devout and earnest about his eternal salvation, he might receive grace and be allowed to walk through heaven’s gates at the time of death.

Whether Luther received an earthly or spiritual reward, hard work was the focus. How much he applied himself, how he used the gifts God had given him and how devoted he was to his spiritual development would determine for young Luther where he ended up—not only in life but also in the afterlife.

Next week, we will look at Luther’s time in Erfurt.

NOTE: If you’ve enjoyed these articles and want to know more about Martin Luther, I’ve been following the work of my professor, James M. Kittelson, in his book Luther The Reformer: The Story of The Man and His Career. Also, in the weeks and months that follow I will introduce you, the reader, to other works by Luther scholars that I believe will help deepen your knowledge and appreciation for Luther’s life and work. Enjoy!

Rev. Donavon Riley is the pastor of St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota.

Categories
Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 2

Young Luther the student in class

Rev. Donavon Riley

When Martin was sent to school in Eisenach, his mother’s relatives helped him settle in. However, they were poor people, so life for him stayed pretty much the same as it had been in Magdeburg. He focused on his studies and sang in children’s choirs for food and a few coins. At some point, however, he met a woman named Schalbe. She was from a family of wealthy merchants. She arranged for Martin to stay in the home of a relative and eat his meals with another. This meant that after 1498, life became a bit better for Luther.

Another change that happened at Eisenach was that Martin caught the attention of the school’s headmaster, John Trebonius. He took Luther under his wing and stirred up the young student’s imagination. Trebonius, as Luther later recalled, was a gifted teacher. At the same time, Martin began a friendship with another teacher, Weigand Geldennupf. This friendship lasted up to Geldennupf’s death.

Geldennupf introduced Martin to ancient authors, like Aesop, Terence, and Virgil. The importance of this for Luther was so far reaching that later he translated Aesop’s fables into German. And, he then urged students, friends, and family to read, learn, and memorize the wonderful, wisdom-teaching fables.

It was Trebonius and Geldennupf who recognized Luther’s gifts, and it was they who paved the way for him to attend a university. Martin’s father, Hans, was very encouraged by this turn of events and did whatever he could to secure his son’s future learning, which he hoped would result in a career in church, law or medicine. Even though Hans barely earned enough to feed and support the family back home, when the time came, he made sure Martin had enough money to attend classes at the University of Erfurt.

It may be easy for us in the present to assume Martin’s intellectual skills lent themselves to excelling at his studies, and religious life and piety, but they didn’t. When he arrived at Erfurt, he was no different than any other student. And, as far as his religious life, Luther was an ordinary Roman Catholic—a believer who attended church regularly, but showed no particular excitement or desire to pursue religious studies.

Martin had learned a great deal about the Christian faith from the Schalbe’s, who were devout people, and they taught him much about monasticism. But, again, this didn’t appear to especially influence Martin’s view of the church or religion. Singing in choirs, attending church, and the like was considered a good work, a part of Luther’s Christian duty, and the way to gain spiritual security in his daily life. Salvation for Martin Luther, and everyone, was something earned. It was a religion of works.

Next week, we’ll dig into what sin, confession, and penance at the end of the 15th century contributed to a Christian’s “spiritual security” and daily life.

Rev. Donavon Riley is the pastor of St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota. 

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Higher History

Who Was Martin Luther? Part 1

Hans and Margaret Luther, Martin's parents

Rev. Donavon Riley

When Martin Luther died on February 18, 1546 some people said they’d heard a rumor that demons flew out of his body. Others said witnesses at his death bed saw Martin carried into heaven by Elijah and the chariots of Israel.

But who was Martin Luther really? Was he a prophet like Elijah? A demon? A hero of the faith? A revolutionary? The man responsible for splitting Christendom once and for all?

Unlike his death, Luther’s birth wasn’t such a big deal. His dad, Hans Luder, was a peasant, meaning he was poor and of no importance to anyone who mattered. But Hans had plans, and he’d decided he wasn’t going to be a peasant his whole life.

By the time his second son, Martin, was born on November 10, 1483, Hans had moved from his hometown of Mohra to Eiselben. Hans was a good man, a devoted husband and father, and faithful. That’s why he took Martin to be baptized at the church of St. Peter on the day of his birth. Well, that and, at that time, more than sixty percent of babies died so Hans was afraid his child wouldn’t be allowed into heaven if he weren’t baptized. That day was also the Feast of St. Martin, so Hans named the boy “Martin.”

Hans’ own dad had died around the time of Martin’s birth. That meant he had no support for himself or his young family. He was on his own now. With few options, Hans went to work in his brother’s fields. But that didn’t sit right with him, so before long he left to make his own fortune.

The family moved to Mansfeld about ten miles away from Eiselben. Hans took a job in a copper mine. It was very dangerous work. Cave-ins, poison air, and water flooding into the shafts were constant threats to the miners.

Hans’ wasn’t paid very well, which meant that money was tight for the Luders when Martin was young. He later recalled that his mother beat him until his hands bled for stealing a nut off the kitchen table. Another time, Hans whipped Martin with a cane for playing a trick on someone. They wouldn’t tolerate bad behavior or dishonesty. The Luders were determined to be more than just peasants and to ensure that their children would enjoy a better life than them.

At the same time, the end of the 1400s were rough for everybody. The world was a hard and violent place. Plagues, peasant revolts, wars, famine, and drought were a part of ordinary life.

In spite of the conditions, Hans dreamed of a better life for his children no matter how dark and dreary the world around them. That’s why, instead of dragging his son into a copper mine with him, Hans sent young Martin to the town school. Later, in 1497, Martin went on to Magdeburg, then a year later to Eisenach. After that, to the University of Erfurt.

Hans wanted Martin to succeed and he was willing to sacrifice his own comfort and happiness to make it happen. Martin, on the other hand, had nothing but criticism for his education. He was not yet five years old when he started Latin school. The students were regularly insulted, cursed, and beaten in order to motivate them. On more than one occasion, young Martin was made to wear a dunce cap and referred to as “ass” for the day. If a student got into too much trouble he was sent home to be whipped with a cane by his parents.

In spite of his treatment, Martin grew to love music above all other subjects. He became very good at performing and composing music. But he wasn’t taught music so he could enjoy it. He was made to learn so he could sing in the church choir.

At Latin school, Martin learned the Lord’s Prayer, Ten Commandments, and Creed by heart. Students who failed to memorize these in Latin were whipped with a cane. Martin later recalled he was beaten fifteen times in one morning for failing to memorize and recite the assigned Latin homework.

In 1497, when he thirteen, Martin had learned enough Latin to “graduate” to another school. He went to live in Magdeburg, where he lived with the Brethren of the Common Life. They were a very pious group of laity. In between classes, Martin was made to walk the streets with classmates singing hymns and begging for food. This is also where the modern practice of “caroling” at Christmas time began. But unlike today, the boys were expected to carol all year round. They were students and beggars. If they wanted to eat or drink anything they were expected to “beg for their supper.”

No one looked at little Martin Luther and said “He’s demon-possessed!” Or, “He’s going to be the prophet of Germany!” Luther’s early life was unimportant and by his own recollection, brutal and difficult.

Next week, we will read more about Martin’s early education in Eisenach and the thing that happened at Erfurt that changed his life.

Rev. Donavon Riley is the pastor of St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Webster, Minnesota.

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Christ on Campus

Christ on Campus: Evangel-less Christianity on Campus

Article PDF | Bible Study PDF | Leader’s Guide PDF

Craig A. Parton

The modern American university campus is a product of three centuries of secular culture. The roots of that secular culture are found in the earliest attempts within the university to engage in what was thought to be a “safe” biblical criticism aimed at the first books of the Old Testament. Radical surgery on the Old Testament was soon performed within the university on the New Testament, and the untethered campus man concluded that he did not need any word from God to give him either morals (found so obviously in nature and her laws) or an explanation for the origin of the species. The Bible was dead. God was dead. Man was free and had in hand a self-diagnosis of perfect health. This brief moment of delusional peace came to a decisive end with World War I. Man was now dead, too.

Culture and university life went from a total optimism in man’s ability to create his own meaning and to save himself, to utter pessimism and a retreat into despair. Painting, music, and literature, unleashed from any concept of being entrusted with gifts from God, degenerated into narcissistic efforts to shock the conscience. Good or bad did not matter because it was all about accepting the mantra on the university campus that all views (save for biblical Christianity) are equally valuable. Rushing into the vacuum came Eastern religious positions like Buddhism and Hinduism, pointing out that Christianity in particular had kept man from discovering inner divinity and his essential oneness with the cosmos.

Christians on campus were defenseless against the inroads of Eastern and New Age religious positions. Why? Instead of proclaiming the faith once delivered to the saints and defending it with the factual arguments honed over the centuries by apologists from Cyprian to Chesterton, Christians defaulted from defending the Gospel to being the Gospel. The casualties on campus have been the loss of apologetics, evangelism, and the Gospel itself.

Ignore Apologetics on Campus and You Get a Defense-less Christianity
The word “apologetics” comes from the Greek text of I Peter 3:15– “be ready always to give a defense (apologia) for the hope that is within you, yet with gentleness and reverence.” Two broadsides are delivered from this passage.

First, apologetics, or defending the faith, is biblically commanded. It is not optional to give a reason for the hope that is within us, nor is it relegated to the pastoral office or to a special class of “intellectual” Christians with a university degree. Second, sharing you (whether it is your heart or your testimony) is not biblical, let alone apostolic, apologetics. Instead, we are to give reasons for believing in Jesus’ perfect life, atoning death, and resurrection from the dead, and are to persuasively present the evidence that demands a verdict. We can see how Paul brilliantly did this before Herod Agrippa in Acts 26:26-28.

Apologetics is about giving reasons. It is not, therefore, simply a form of philosophy, nor is it a species of systematic theology, nor is it simply a subset of preaching, as if defending the faith is something only pastors do!

Apologetics is not only biblically commanded, it has a long and noble history. There was even a so-called “Age of the Apologists” in the 2nd, 3rd and 4th centuries that developed a Hall of Fame of defenders of the faith (Cyprian, Irenaeus, Tertullian, and Augustine to name but a few). Today, there is an impressive pedigree of trial lawyers that have investigated the truth claims of Christianity and found them utterly compelling. The Canadian Institute (www.ciltpp.com) has the finest array of resources for the college student on the defense of the faith today.

There is something to learn from the fact that the most effective apologists in the last century were not trained in formal theology at all (C.S. Lewis, G.K. Chesterton, Dorothy Sayers, Charles Williams, and J.R.R. Tolkien). One need not have a seminary education to be effective in the defense of the faith on the modern secular campus. In fact, an insulated theological education may end up impeding one in the apologetical task since theologians tend to maximize the assumptions that are to be accepted and minimize the evidence to be marshaled.

Lose Apologetics on Campus and You Get A Christ-less Christianity
We ignored apologetics on campus and lost what apologetics was defending. Well, what is it we are defending in apologetics? The Gospel, of course! Or, to be more specific, what C.S. Lewis of Oxford University called “Mere Christianity.” Think of the central propositions of the Apostles’ Creed, most especially that Jesus Christ, true God and man, died for the sins of the world and rose again to life.

But this is exactly where so many well-meaning Christians on campus miss the 3:10 train to Yuma. Because the Gospel is not the center and circumference of their theology (it is just one of many equally important doctrines), they end up with what is secondary in Scripture becoming primary while what is primary becomes secondary. Arguments are centered on, for example, what went on before time, or at the beginning of time, or what happens at the end of time. Speculation has the front seat, and facts get stuck in the back seat if they are there at all.

So apologetics is about the defense of the faith, and specifically of the Gospel. What then is the Gospel? Just this: Christ died for sinners and you qualify. The Gospel is all about what was done for you and in spite of you. We are the problem, not the solution. Any “apologetic” that is about your anything (except your sin) is decidedly not defending the Gospel.

In summary, when defending the faith in the dorm or in the classroom, every once in a while stop and ask: Is what I just talked about in the Apostles’ Creed or not? If not, a flare should go up that you are very likely headed in the wrong direction.

Christians on campus thought they could ignore apologetics with no harm to evangelism or the Gospel. Christians in the college square stopped contending, then stopped evangelizing, then stopped believing there was anything worth contending for or evangelizing about.

Defense-less Lutherans and Christ-less Liberals: A Campus Trainwreck
Our situation today on campus? A multiplicity of religious options are being presented, essentially all claiming to change one’s life, and none of them offer anything resembling persuasive factual evidence. The Christian at the modern university has the answers. In fact, offering evidence for belief is unique to Christian truth claims.1 Apologetics that focuses on the case for Christ is not antithetical to evangelism. In fact, such a defense of the faith is evangelism.

Instead of providing historical, scientific, and legal evidences on behalf of the Christian position, Christians on campus have jettisoned the apostolic admonition. Instead of learning the many convincing proofs referred to by Dr. Luke, they are way too busy learning the purpose-driven life while buying work out programs so that they can exercise like Jesus did.

Apologetics as Evangelism on Campus
It is not apologetics instead of evangelism. It is not apologetics versus evangelism. It is not apologetics without evangelism.

Apologetics on campus that centers on the authenticity and centrality of the death and resurrection of our Lord for the forgiveness of sins is apologetics as evangelism. It is the tool of apologetics that helps Christians to boldly give to others those reasons for the hope that is in them.

  • 1* For a superb summary of those evidences, see John Warwick Montgomery’s Tractatus Logico-Theologicus, 4th ed. (Bonn: Culture & Science Publ., 2009, available through the Canadian Institute for Law, Theology, and Public Policy), esp. Proposition 3 (“Historical, jurisprudential, and scientific standards of evidence offer the touchstone for resolving the religious 

predicament by establishing the truth claims of Christian proclamation.”), pp. 65-128. See also, R.C. Sproul, Reasons to Believe (Dallas: Regal Books, 1978), which deals with the ten most common objections raised on campus by unbelievers.

Craig Parton is a trial lawyer and partner in a law firm in Santa Barbara, California. He is the author of three books on the defense of the Christian position and is the United States Director of 
the International Academy of Apologetics, Evangelism and Human Rights 
(www.apologeticsacademy.eu) which conducts its annual summer study sessions in Strasbourg, France. He can be reached at cap@ppplaw.com.