## 1. Luther's Life and Works



Luther lived an interesting life in interesting times--where to a
significant degree those times were made interesting by his
life's impact upon them. This impact began with the publication
of his *Ninety-Five Theses* on 31 October 1517, in which as a
young professor at Wittenberg he attacked the Church's sale of
indulgences; this was then followed by various further disputations
and disputes as well as published works that defended his increasingly
radical position, leading to his excommunication in 1521 and his
famously defiant appearance at the Diet of Worms. Managing to escape
capture under the protection of Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony,
and after a period of seclusion at Wartburg castle, Luther returned to
Wittenberg, where he continued his teaching, writing and translating;
married; and engaged with the complex and fraught swirl of forces
unleashed by his work at various levels--in theology, in the
Church, in politics, and in society at large. While he had fathered
the Reformation, as it has become known, he did not set out to divide
the Christian Church, and the movement quickly took on a momentum that
he could not control, but which still in certain fundamental ways
bears the stamp of his thought.



Luther was born on 10 November 1483 in Eisleben in the Holy Roman
Empire, not into the peasantry as he liked to claim, but into a
relatively prosperous mining
 family.[2]
 His father, Hans, gave him a good education, intending for him to
become a lawyer and thus assist the family business. In 1501 Luther
went from school to the University of Erfurt, where in 1505 he became
a Master of Arts, a degree which included the study and teaching of
Aristotle, while he was also exposed to nominalism and to humanism.
However, rather than continuing with his legal training, later in the
same year Luther chose instead to enter the Augustinian monastery at
Erfurt, much to the annoyance of his father--and as Luther
explained it later, on the basis of a vow made in a violent thunder
storm to St Anna (the patron saint of miners), that this is what he
would do if he was spared. Whatever the truth in this story, in his
own mind at least Luther seems to have understood his change of
direction as a kind of conversion experience, and the entry into a new
type of spiritual life.



However, Luther did not find this life an easy one, later recalling
that while he tried to live without reproach and made full use of
confession, he still felt that he "was a sinner before God with
an extremely disturbed conscience" ("Preface to the
Complete Edition of Luther's Latin Writings", 1545, WA
54:185/LW 34:336), in spite of the reassurances given him by his
mentor Johann von Staupitz (1468-1524), then vicar-general of
the observant wing of the Augustinians. This anxiety and fear meant
the Luther underwent what he termed *Anfechtungen*, spiritual
trials or temptations, as fears about his salvation could lead him to
turn against God, while in later years he felt he was struggling with
the devil. Luther was further disturbed by his father's response
when attending the first Mass at which his son officiated upon being
ordained in 1507: his father suggested that Luther's vow to St
Anna may have been forced out of him by the devil, causing him to
break the commandment to obey one's parents. Some commentators
have speculated that these two difficult relationships with father
figures are not unconnected (for a classic but controversial study,
see Erikson 1958; see also Roper 2016: 48-49).



As a monk in the monastery at Erfurt and as a temporary lecturer at
Wittenberg, Luther's education continued under his teachers
Jodocus Trutfetter (1460-1519) and Bartholomaeus Arnoldi of
Usingen (1465-1532), as he followed a theology curriculum
dominated by Ockhamism, studying central texts such as Peter
Lombard's *Sentences* and commentaries on them by Gabriel
Biel and Pierre d'Ailly, Aristotle's works with
Ockham's commentaries, and major works by Augustine, while also
lecturing on some of them. In 1512 Luther replaced Staupitz at the
university in Wittenberg as professor of the Bible, a position he was
to hold until his
 death.[3]
 Earlier in the same year, Luther made his only excursion beyond
German lands, travelling to Rome on behalf of Staupitz; he was later
to present this as an experience that began to turn him against the
religious rituals and practices he found there, including that of
indulgences.



It was this issue of indulgences that in 1517 led Luther to write
ninety-five theses intended for debate or disputation on the topic,
criticising this widespread practice as selling the remission of sins;
this practice had been intensified by the efforts of Pope Leo X to
raise funds for a new basilica of St Peter in Rome, efforts that were
spearheaded locally by a Dominican friar Johann Tetzel. While
according to legend Luther nailed the text of the theses to the church
door, in reality it seems he merely sent them to Archbishop Albrecht
of Mainz, and perhaps they were posted up on the door by someone else;
but it was thanks to printed versions that they soon began to
circulate more widely. This condemnation of indulgences was an act of
some defiance within the politics of the Church, as was the criticism
of the authority of the power of the Pope which Luther associated with
it; but earlier in the same year Luther had taken a step of a more
intellectually radical kind with another set of theses, that have come
to be called his *Disputation Against Scholastic Theology*, and
which grew out of his lectures and reading in previous years,
particularly his engagement with Psalms, Paul's letters, and the
works of Augustine and the latter's attacks on Pelagianism. In
this disputation, written with characteristic vehemence, Luther
sketched out what may be called an uncompromising Augustinianism in
opposition to what are portrayed as the more Pelagian positions of
figures such as Scotus, Ockham, and Biel, behind which was said to
stand the malign influence of Aristotle. At the heart of this dispute,
as we shall see, is the key issue of grace, and whether this can be
attained and earned through our efforts by "doing what in us
lies" (*facere quod in se est*). This question raised in
the context of scholastic theology also provides the intellectual
background to Luther's argument against indulgences in the
*Ninety-Five Theses*, which to him were in effect just another
dubious method of gaining merit.



It was against this background that around this time Luther had his
so-called "tower experience", which like the thunder
storm, was later portrayed by Luther as a life-changing moment in a
way that may be more myth than fact, and is named after the tower of
the monastery in Wittenberg where it is said to have occurred (1532,
WA TR 3 no 3232a-c/LW 54:193-4). In recounting the event,
Luther explains that he came to radically re-think how it is that
justification and hence salvation is possible for us at all: namely
not through our attempts to conform to God's law, but through
faith as a form of "passive righteousness". From this
realization, Luther later claimed (in his preface to the edition of
his works published in his life time) that he was freed from his anger
against an accusing God, and the anxiety that no such God could ever
be known to be placated; instead he now recognised God's
gratuitous love and salvation, bestowed on us through divine grace
(1545, WA 54:186/LW 34:336-7).



Luther was able to develop this new position further in another
disputation, this time held in Heidelberg in 1518, where thanks to the
controversy unleashed by the *Ninety-five Theses*, he was
invited by Staupitz to present his theological ideas to the triennial
assembly of the German Augustinians. In this *Heidelberg
Disputation*, Luther continued his assault on "works
righteousness", and developed further an associated attack on
free will, while he also presented a contrast that was to prove
fundamental to his thinking, between a "theology of glory"
and a "theology of the cross". He associated the former
with his opponents, and himself with the latter, arguing that it is
only through despair at our failure to gain salvation for ourselves
that we are truly made ready to be given salvation through grace. It
now became clear to his audience that Luther (who to mark this change
in perspective had just previously started signing himself
"Luther" in short for "*eleutherios*"
or the "freed one", instead of his family's actual
name of "Luder") was attempting not merely to confront
the Church on the issue of indulgences, but also to question what he
perceived to be its misguided theological outlook.



Luther's position on indulgences, and his challenge to the Pope,
had now begun to draw the attention of higher authorities in the
Church, and in 1518 he was summoned to Augsburg to meet with the papal
legate Cardinal Tommaso de Vio, known as Cajetan, who was
investigating the matter. He tried to get Luther to recant, but he
refused to back down in any way. In 1519, Luther travelled to Leipzig
for another disputation, this time with Johann Eck, a theologian who
had earlier criticised his *Ninety-Five Theses*. The
confrontation was a highly charged affair, also conducted in printed
pamphlets and associated satirical texts written by supporters, in
which Luther again vehemently defended his ground. Eck then travelled
to Rome to make his case, hence contributing to the papal decision to
issue the bull *Exsurge Domine* on 15 June 1520, which
threatened to excommunicate this troublesome opponent.



Luther's response was characteristically defiant, later that
year burning the bull in front of his supporters in Wittenberg, while
himself accusing the Pope of heresy and worse in his reposts which
included *Against the Cursed Bull of the Antichrist*. Having
just published his *Treatise on Good Works* in which he set out
his fundamental position on the relation between grace and works,
Luther responded to this new situation in three significant writings
also published in 1520: *Address to the Christian Nobility of the
German Nation*, *The Babylonian Captivity of the Church*,
and *The Freedom of a Christian*. The first two texts argue his
case against the Pope and key practices of the Church, and the third
reflects on how freedom is possible for human beings trapped in sin.
Unsurprisingly, given his recalcitrance, Luther's formal
excommunication followed on 3 January 1521, in the bull *Decet
Romanum Pontificem*. This was followed by a summons from Charles
V, the recently elected head of the Holy Roman Empire, for Luther to
attend the Diet, or regular imperial assembly, at Worms. Choosing to
accept the summons despite the great personal risks involved, knowing
that in rather similar circumstances the Czech theologian Jan Hus (c.
1372-1415) had been burnt at the stake for heresy, Luther was
once more asked to recant, and once more he refused. It is again
doubtful whether he actually uttered the famous words "here I
stand, I cannot do otherwise", but he is recorded as summarizing
his position by saying: 



> 
> 
> Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear
> reason (for I do not trust either in the Pope or in councils alone,
> since it is well known that they often erred and contradicted
> themselves), I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my
> conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and will not
> retract anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against
> conscience. (1521, WA 7:838/LW 32:112)
> 
> 
> 



Fearing for his safety after this defiant performance, which did
indeed lead to the Edict of Worms declaring him a heretic and an
outlaw, Luther was spirited away to the Wartburg castle under the
protection of the Elector of Saxony, Frederick the Wise. Barring a
brief secret visit back to Wittenberg in December 1521, he was based
there until he could return openly to the city on 6 March 1522. While
at the Wartburg he began his German translation of the New Testament,
which would be followed (in serialised fashion) by the Old Testament,
and eventually the landmark Luther Bible of 1534/1545. He also
responded to criticism in support of the Pope by a Louvain theologian
in *Against Latomus* (1522), re-iterating key elements of his
position concerning the relation between sin and grace in forceful
language. 



As well as responding to attacks from the Catholic Church, in this
period Luther began to face increasing challenges from his "own 
people" within the reform movement 
 itself.[4]
 Upon returning to Wittenberg from his relative
seclusion, Luther found himself embroiled in controversies over the
direction being taken by other figures such as Andreas Bodenstein von
Karlstadt (1486-1541) and Thomas Muntzer (c.
1489-1525), and was caught up in associated theological
disputes, while also facing growing political opposition. Luther
preached the Invocavit (Lenten) Sermons which restored order to the
city, and responded to his fellow reformers in *A Sincere
Admonition by Martin Luther to all Christians to Guard against
Insurrection and Rebellion* (1522), and to some of these political
difficulties in his pamphlet *On Temporal* [or secular: *weltlicher*] *Authority: To What Extent it
Should be Obeyed* (1523), in which he drew a distinction between
two kingdoms or empires (*die zwei Reiche*) in an attempt to
make clear where he took the limits of the power of princes to lie.
Now no longer a monk, he published *On the Estate of Marriage*
in 1522, and himself married Katharina von Bora in 1525, after she had
left her convent with other nuns, convinced by Luther's
arguments against monasticism. The marriage was a successful and happy one, and they were to have six children
together, of whom two daughters were to die young, affecting Luther greatly. Meanwhile, theological and doctrinal disputes
were to persist for the rest of Luther's career, on issues such
as the Eucharist (or Lord's Supper: *Heiliges Adendmahl*) and baptism, both within the evangelical movement
involving figures such as the sacramentarian Karlstadt, and the Swiss
reformers Ulrich Zwingli (1484-1531) and Johannes Oecolampadius
(1482-1531), and outside it with the Anabaptists. On both
issues, Luther resisted the accounts of these sacraments as having a
mere symbolic value, often arguing that this viewpoint comes from an
urge to put reason above the authority of scripture (see, for example,
*Against the Heavenly Prophets* (1525, WA 18:62-125,
134-214/LW 40:79-223), *That These Words of Christ,
"This is My Body", Etc., Still Stand Firm Against the
Fanatics* (1527, WA 23:38-320/LW 37:3-150), and
*Concerning Rebaptism* (1528, WA 26:144-74/LW
40:229-62)). 



In 1524, Luther faced criticism from a different quarter, as the
leading Christian humanist Desiderius Erasmus was finally persuaded to
engage with Luther's position in print, and despite
Luther's earlier hopes for his
 endorsement,[5]
 chose instead to focus critically on the latter's view of
freedom which had been initially expressed in the thirteenth of
Luther's theses from the *Heidelberg Disputation* (1518)
and further underlined in Luther's response to the bull of Leo X
 (1520).[6]
 Erasmus replied to the latter in his *A Diatribe or Discussion on
Free Will* (*De libero arbitrio diatribe sive
collatio*)--where "diatribe" here is used not in
the modern sense, but in the earlier sense of looking for a consensus
on probable opinion through discussion. Luther, however, responded a
year later to Erasmus's intentionally measured and urbane effort with what
amounts to a diatribe in the modern form, entitled *De servo
arbitrio*, which may be translated "On the bondage [or
slavery] of the will [or free choice]". Luther's invective
shocked and offended Erasmus, who replied with his two volume
*Protector of the Diatribe* (*Hyperaspistes
 diatribae*)[7]
 in 1526 and 1527, in which Erasmus's language is almost as
intemperate as Luther's own. As Luther emphasised, at the heart
of this dispute lay issues that were central to his thinking,
concerning grace, human agency, and divine knowledge and power, played
out against the background of Augustine's earlier disputes with
Pelagianism, of which Luther insistently accused Erasmus, much to the
latter's frustration.



Luther was also drawn into controversy of a more political and social
kind, as he sought to respond to the events known as the
"Peasants' War" or "Peasants'
Revolt" (*Bauernkrieg*), when in 1525 large areas of
central Europe saw agrarian grievances lead to more general disorder,
partly fuelled by appeal to reformation ideas, and partly by an appeal
to scripture which Luther himself had seemed to champion. Luther first
responded with relative moderation in his *Admonition to
Peace*, in which after criticising both the rulers and the peasants, he urged dialogue between the two parties. But the
on-going violence led him to take sides with the secular authorities,
as the title of his next work made clear: *Against the Thieving,
Murderous Hordes of Peasants*. The vehement tone of this text shocked even Luther's supporters, and led him to attempt to clarify his position further in *An Open Letter on the Harsh Book Against the Peasants*, though his basic stance was not much changed, and by then the damage was done. That stance was perhaps
politically expedient to ensure continuing support from the princes
for his reformation, but it nonetheless continues to raise questions
regarding the integrity of his political judgement, and more generally
for the significance of his social and political thought. In the same
period, Luther sought to instill his form of theology and religious
practice on the growing reformed communities through his *German
Mass* (1526) and his catechisms (1529).



In 1530, Luther was drawn into a further Diet, this time at Augsburg
but, fearing for his safety, Luther himself remained in Coburg, while
his position was represented by his gifted younger
protege Philip Melanchthon (1497-1560), who had
first joined Luther in Wittenberg in 1518. The aim of the Diet, to be
attended by the Emperor Charles V, was to achieve some reconciliation
between the Catholic and reformed positions. Luther forwarded his
strongly worded suggestions as to how the latter should be represented
in his "exhortation", but Melanchthon opted instead to
present a more moderate position to the Diet, in 28 articles later
known as the *Augsburg Confession*. This was part of a process
through which Melanchthon sought to mediate and in some respects
soften Luther's own views, not always to the liking of the
latter, though their close relationship remained largely intact. The
Diet ended in failure and, fearing suppression from imperial forces,
Luther wrote his *Warning to his Dear German People* (1531), in
which now he sanctioned armed resistance, arguing that defence of the
gospel overrode civil obedience. Instead, however, the list of
Lutheran territories continued to grow, forming the League of
Smalcalden in 1531. It was a Diet of this League held in 1537 which
Luther was to address with his *Smalcald Articles*; published
in 1538, these contain his last word on confessional and doctrinal
issues. He also argued against a council called by the Pope in *The
Councils and the Church* (1539). While still at Coburg, Luther defended some of his practices on translation against critics in *On Translating: An Open Letter* (1530), particularly the accusation that in Romans 3:28, in the key phrase "faith alone," the word "alone" is not in Paul's text. When back in Wittenberg after the
Diet of Augsburg, Luther was to lecture on Galatians in 1531, lectures
which were published in 1535 and 1538.



In his last years, Luther continued to fight for his legacy, which
included his mock-reluctant acceptance of an edition of his collected
works to which he contributed an only partially reliable preface on
which (as we have seen) some colourful but probably fictional stories
of his life were to draw--though for all that it remains a
revealing document. These years are marred by his vitriolic attacks on
both Turks (and thus Islam) and Jews, in a marked change of tone from
his earlier more considered and appreciative reflections, which had
included *That Jesus Christ was Born a Jew*
(1523)--although his positive remarks are based on hopes of Jewish conversion, while many of his comments in his unpublished lectures
on Psalms had been hostile; partly because those hopes did not materialise, by 1538 Luther was writing *Against the
Sabbatarians*, a polemic which he was to continue to the end of
his life in further anti-Jewish
 texts.[8]



The end of that life was to come on 18 February 1546, in the town of
Eisleben where he had been born. At the burial ceremony in Wittenberg,
Melanchthon spoke the eulogy. He noted that while he could not deny
the complaint that "Luther displayed too much severity" in
dealing with his opponents, nonetheless he cited one of those
opponents in response: 



> 
> 
> But I answer in the language of Erasmus, "Because of the
> magnitude of the disorders, God gave this age a violent
> physician". (1546 [1834-60: 729-730]; the reference is to Erasmus 1529 [1999: 100])
> 
> 
> 


## 2. Theology and Philosophy



Whilst there is no doubt that Luther saw himself primarily as a
theologian, as we have seen his education also involved significant
philosophical aspects, whilst he engaged with philosophical issues and
debates throughout his career. Nonetheless, he was concerned to
demarcate clearly between the two disciplines, which for him also
involved becoming clear about the limitations of reason in relation to
matters of faith. In some contexts, this led him to polemicizing
against reason and philosophy (most notoriously in his assertion that
"reason is the devil's whore" as it "can do
nothing else but slander and dishonour what God does and says"
(*Against the Heavenly Prophets*, 1525, WA 18:164/LW 40:175));
but as many would now argue, it would be wrong to take such remarks in
isolation and out of context, and to thereby characterise his position
as "irrationalist" in a broad sense. Rather, it would be
more accurate to say that he was keen to keep reason within its proper
boundaries and under the right tutelage.



One text that brings out some of the complexities of Luther's
position on these issues is *Disputatio de homine* ("The
Disputation Concerning Man", 1536). Comprising 40 theses, the
first 9 present the view of human beings and our relation to the world
proposed by "philosophy or human wisdom", which is then
contrasted with the view taken by theology (see Ebeling 1977, 1982,
1989; but cf. White 1994: 60-81
for criticisms of Ebeling). The position of philosophy is not rejected
entirely, but shown to be severely truncated in the light of theology.
According to philosophy, a human being is an embodied animal equipped
with a reason that relies on sensations or experience; it thus
conceives of us in merely mortal terms and in relation to the world
around us. Luther agrees that in this context philosophy is right to
view reason as 



> 
> 
> the most important and the highest in rank among all things and, in
> comparison with other things of this life, the best and something
> divine, 
> 
> 
> 



for in this realm 



> 
> 
> it is the inventor and guide of all the arts, medicine, law, and of
> whatever wisdom, power, virtue, and glory human beings possess in this
> life. (1536, WA 39.I:175/LW 34:137) 
> 
> 
> 



Luther thus also agrees that it is reason that makes the fundamental
difference between human beings and animals, by virtue of which we are
given dominion over the latter, so that reason is "a sun and a
kind of god appointed to administer these things in this life"
(ibid.). And Luther also asserts that even after the Fall, God did not
take away this role for reason, but continued to uphold it, so in this
context it remains a divine gift and a fundamental way in which we fit
into God's creation. Thus, set within a worldly arena, Luther
here and
 elsewhere[9]
 is happy to affirm the value and function of reason, and
philosophy's high estimate of its significance.



However, Luther then goes on to argue that precisely because
philosophy is confined to reason that operates within empirical
 constraints,[10]
 and is unaided by revelation, faith, and scripture, it cannot hope to
tell us the whole story about human beings and the world, for which
the extra resources available to theology are required, which can
thereby put all this in relation to God and so define "the whole
and perfect human being" (1536, WA 39.I: 176/LW 34:138). This
means that theology can not only treat God as fundamental in its
account of efficient and of final causes (as creator, and as the
source of eternal happiness and salvation respectively), but it also
sees human beings in the light of the Fall and also of grace and
salvation, in a way that reason without theology cannot
fathom--and if it tries to do so, will distort in a fundamental
way.



A contemporary empiricist or naturalistic philosopher might have
little cause to challenge Luther's assumptions concerning the
nature of reason, and so accept this demarcation between philosophy
and theology. However, a more rationalistic philosopher might question
whether Luther underestimates the a priori capacities of reason, thus
giving reason more of a role within the theological realm when it
comes to our knowledge of God. In response, Luther makes several
related claims. First, while he does not reject such a priori
knowledge altogether (which he takes to be innate), he stresses it is
severely limited, partly because it can only bring us a rather general
knowledge of
 God,[11]
 and partly because it can never lead to the kind of certainty
regarding God which can be found through faith and taking seriously
his promise to us, particularly when it comes to matters of
 salvation.[12]
 Second, he has theological reasons connected not just to the Fall
itself but also to his conception of the "hiddenness" of
God, to question the scope of such rational capacities, so that reason
knows "that there is a God, but it does not know who or which is
the true God" (*Lectures on Jonah* (1526, WA 19:206/LW
19:54-55). Third, in attributing these capacities to ourselves,
there is the danger of a kind of theological pride which will
disastrously distort our proper relation to God. Fourth, to take
reason to be capable of more than helping us navigate the world is to
misunderstand its function in our epistemic economy, an economy which
can ultimately be traced back to God's
 design.[13]
 Finally, and perhaps most importantly, reason must struggle to make
sense of the sheer gratuitousness of God's forgiveness of our
sins, which transcend its sense of justice and fairness, and will as a
result lead us to question and doubt that forgiveness, with disastrous
 consequences.[14]



For Luther, these limitations of reason can be felt within theology in
the kind of puzzlement and perplexity which reason feels when
confronted by the scriptures and faith, where such puzzlement combined
with an undue estimation of reason can lead to the overthrow of the
latter by the former. But viewed from Luther's perspective, this
is clearly unwarranted, as within theology this puzzlement is
precisely to be expected and even predicted, given the hiddenness of
God on the one hand and the effects of the Fall on the other, as well
as God's desire to humble
 us.[15]
 Luther is thus happy to revel in the apparently paradoxical nature of
religious belief, on some accounts going as far as accepting a
doctrine of "double truth": namely that the same
proposition might be true in theology and false in philosophy, and
*vice versa*. That he held this view may seem supported by
Thesis 4 of the *Disputation Concerning the Passage: "The
Word Was Made Flesh" (John 1:14)'* of 1539, which
states: 



> 
> 
> The Sorbonne, the mother of errors, very badly laid down that the same
> thing is true in philosophy and in theology. (WA 39.2:3/LW 38:239)
> 
> 
> 
> 



However, it is more commonly held that in making this claim, Luther
has something more moderate in mind, which is suggested by Thesis 1 of
this Disputation: 



> 
> 
> Although the saying "Every truth is in agreement with every
> other truth" is to be upheld, nevertheless, what is true in one
> field of learning [*professionibus*] is not always true in
> other fields of learning. (ibid) 
> 
> 
> 



This can be interpreted as holding that realms of truth are diverse,
in the sense that some truth can only be stated in certain fields but
not others, but nonetheless all truths are consonant with one another
(see Gerrish 1962: 53-4; White 1994: Chapter 3; Dieter 2009; Luy
2017: 15-16; and
see Bianchi 2008 for a history of this issue).



Nonetheless, even this more modest position means that Luther can
claim that there are truths in theology that philosophy cannot grasp
or properly articulate in its own terms, and when it tries to do so,
will generate what in philosophy appear to be absurdities or
aporia--such as the doctrine of the Trinity, or of the Eucharist,
both of which require different ways of thinking than is available to
philosophers, who can aspire to no more than "creaturely
thought" (*The Promotions disputation of Erasmus
Alberus*, 1543, WA 39.2:254/Appendix to Bielfeldt, Mattox, &
Hinlicky 2008: 191-197,
 194).[16]
 It is in this context that Luther can speak of the language of
theology needing to be "new" because it behaves
differently from that of the "old" language of philosophy,
though not necessarily from the language of ordinary life, which can
be more flexible than that of philosophy in certain respects (cf.
White 1994: 332-48,
Bielfeldt 2002b). Likewise, because the philosopher operates with
formal systems of syllogistic logic, which do not sufficiently take
into account the special nature of the objects of faith, such logics
will also break down when dealing with theological
 matters.[17]
 To philosophy, these problems will wrongly suggest that theology is
nonsensical or is grasping at falsehoods, while instead Luther argues
it just highlights the limitations of philosophical concepts and
methods when dealing with the subject-matter of theology (see White
1994 for more extensive
discussion of these issues). As Luther puts it in *Disputation
Concerning the Passage: "The Word Was Made Flesh"*:




> 
> 
> St. Ambrose has rightly said that the dialecticians have to give way
> where the apostolic fishermen are to be trusted. (1539, WA 39.2:4/LW
> 38:239)
> 
> 
> 



However, having marked out a hierarchy between philosophy and theology
in this manner, Luther does not entirely reject a role for reason
within theology, when properly understood, and when thereby
illuminated by faith so that it becomes "right reason"
(*recta
 ratio*).[18]
 Thus, as Gerrish has argued in relation to Luther's famous
statement when asked to recant at the Diet of Worms, that he refused
to do so unless "convinced by the testimony of Scripture or
plain reason", Luther did not mean here to set up reason
*alongside* scripture, but rather to accept the evidential
authority of rational inferences from it (Gerrish 1962:
 24-5).[19]
 Likewise, while his doctrine of putting scripture first as the basis
for faith (*sola scriptura*) means he has a correspondingly dim
view of theological debates carried out at a purely philosophical
level, Luther nonetheless accepts the importance of reason to the
interpreter and translator of the scriptural texts such as himself.
Indeed, part of his grounds for rejecting Erasmus's humanistic
appeal to authority and tradition in matters of interpretation lies in
Luther's confidence in the capacity of reason to make the Bible
clear, when properly coupled with faith and the "understanding
of the heart" (see Grosshans 2017: 15-17). However, Luther
was himself to face the challenge of those (such as the Anabaptists
and the Sacramentarians at the Colloquy of Marburg in 1529) who
interpreted scripture in different ways, and for whom conscience
guided by "right reason" was to counsel different
responses to such key passages as "For this is my body",
leaving little agreed common ground on which to adjudicate these
disputes; some see this situation as ironically generating a kind of
scepticism which is the very converse of the certainty which Luther
himself craved and claimed to make
 possible.[20]



Luther's conception of the relation between theology and
philosophy, faith and reason, may also be seen to influence his
corresponding assessment of mysticism. On the one hand, against the
perceived rationalism of the scholastics, Luther was clearly attracted
to the need for inner experience, and spoke of achieving a kind of
union with or participation in God, while attaching great merit to
some writings in the mystical tradition, particularly the
*Theologia deutsch,* a late fourteenth-century work which he
discovered and twice edited, in 1516 and 1518, wrongly attributing it
to Johann Tauler (c. 1300-1361), though it is influenced by the
latter's ideas. At the same time, Luther also distanced himself
from mystical writers such as Dionysius, whose theology (like that of the so-called "Zwickau Prophets") he accused of making the mediating role for Christ redundant (cf. 1537, *First Disputation Against the Antinomians*, WA 39.1:389-91, translated in Sonntag (ed. and trans.), *Only the Decalogue is Eternal*, 55-57), while it is debatable whether
Luther's emphasis on the authority of scripture is compatible
with a mystical approach (for further discussion, see Oberman 1992:
126-54, and Leppin 2017b).


## 3. Luther, Aristotle, and Nominalism



To the extent that Luther is critical of philosophy and of reason,
this hostility is often directed at Aristotle and the Aristotelian
tradition in particular; and in general, Luther's departure from
Aristotle marks one of the most philosophically distinctive and
interesting aspects of his thinking. As with Luther's critique
of reason, however, some of his more notoriously negative
judgements--such as his claim in the *Disputation Against
Scholastic Theology* that "the whole Aristotle is to
theology as darkness is to light" (1517, WA 1:226/LW
31:12)--need to be balanced against other more positive
judgements, and set in context. Part of that context is the reception
of Aristotle's work itself, as it was interpreted in its own
terms, and also placed against the background of Christian thought
within the scholastic tradition, where it can be a complex matter to
place Luther himself into these debates (see Andreatta 1996, White 1996, Dieter 2001
(discussed in Wicks 2007), Dieter 2017).



Broadly speaking, there are three levels in Luther's critical
engagement with Aristotle and his influence: objections at the
institutional level, at the level of general Christian theology, and
at the level of Luther's own theological outlook.



At the institutional level, Luther's concern was over the place
of Aristotle within the universities, which had been cemented through
the decision in 1255 of the faculty of liberal arts in Paris to
include all Aristotle's known works within the curriculum. This
is the context of Luther's assertion, in *To the Christian
Nobility* of 1520, that in the universities "the blind pagan
teacher, Aristotle, is of more consequence than Christ", so that
the universities "need a good, thorough reformation" (WA
6:457/LW 44:200) in order to replace the centrality of
Aristotle's works with the study of scripture and of the
Christian faith--and Luther was not alone in having this concern.
He thus argues that Aristotle's *Physics*,
*Metaphysics*, *De anima*, and *Ethics* should
all be removed from the curriculum, while his *Logic*,
*Rhetoric* and *Poetics* should be retained in an
abridged form without commentary, as aids to speaking and preaching.
In this way, Luther clearly hoped, rather than "labouring with
persistent industry to comprehend only Aristotle"
(*Explanations of the Ninety-Five Theses* 1518, WA 1:611/LW
1:222), students would have time to devote themselves to the more
worthwhile study of the Bible
 instead.[21]



Luther's choice of works to set aside also reveals what he took
to be theologically problematic about the content of Aristotle's
philosophy at the second level. In commenting on *De anima*,
Luther objects that it contradicts Christian teaching on the
immortality of the soul. He also says that the *Physics* is
fundamentally flawed, elsewhere arguing that this is because Aristotle
has no conception of the Biblical account of creation (*Lectures on
Genesis*, 1535-1545, WA 42:63/LW 1:84). In both areas,
Aristotle is hampered by his hylomorphism, his view that matter and
form are interrelated, so that in this respect Luther favours Plato
over Aristotle.



More interesting, however, is the third level of Luther's
engagement with Aristotle, where his critique focuses on issues
central to Luther's own theology. In *To the Christian
Nobility*, this can be seen in Luther's response to
Aristotle's *Ethics*, which is described as being
"the worst of all books" as it 



> 
> 
> flatly opposes divine grace and all Christian virtues, and yet it is
> considered one of his best works. Away with such books! Keep them away
> from Christians. (1520, WA 6:458/LW 44:201) 
> 
> 
> 



Luther is here contrasting his own account of justification through
faith with the idea of justification through works, which he
associates with the Aristotelian tradition and traces back to
Aristotle's *Ethics*. For here, Luther argued, one can
find the idea that virtue is something to be developed through our own
efforts and instilled in us through habituation, thus making the idea
of good works central to the idea of moral improvement. While perhaps
plausible in a secular context, once this idea is transposed into
understanding our relation to God, Luther took it to be disastrous as
it led to the view both that we could act rightly without God's
grace, and that we could to some extent earn his good judgement by
doing so, without seeing this grace as unmerited. This, however, is to
generate a sense of pride in our own abilities which precisely negates
the possibility of good action, for reasons we will consider further
in the next section. Luther thus sets his own view in opposition to
the Aristotelian one in the *Disputation Against Scholastic
Philosophy* when he writes that "We do not become righteous
by doing righteous deeds but, having been made righteous, we do
righteous deeds", so that as a result "Virtually the
entire *Ethics* of Aristotle is the worst enemy of grace"
(1517, WA 1:226/LW 1:12). Luther's criticisms of Duns Scotus,
Gabriel Biel and William of Ockham on these issues elsewhere in the
*Disputation* make clear how he sees them as relating to this
fundamental Aristotelian error, while his reference to
Augustine's anti-Pelagianism in the first two theses equally
makes clear the theological mistake that Luther sees in all such
views. And while Luther does not mention him explicitly in the
*Disputation*, not surprisingly he elsewhere occasionally but
strongly criticizes Aquinas for also falling under the baleful
influence of Aristotle on this
 issue.[22]



It has also been argued by commentators that this radical critique of
Aristotle from the perspective of his view of justification and grace
also results in a departure not only from Aristotle's ethics of
the virtues, but also some fundamental assumptions of Aristotelian
metaphysics, and its commitment to the substance/attribute model. This
change in outlook is said to arise out of Luther's conception of
grace as unmerited, so that in attributing righteousness to a person,
this is extrinsic to them, a matter of God's verdict and hence
forensic assessment, and so grounded in his relation to the person
rather than in the attributes of the person themselves, which from
another perspective remain that of the sinner. Viewed in this
relational way, the Christian is thus "both justified and
sinner" (*simul iustus et peccator*), in a manner that is
hard to capture on a traditional Aristotelian substance/attribute
 model.[23]
 However, the so-called "Finnish interpretation" of
Luther, which challenges this purely forensic and relational approach
to justification, correspondingly makes Luther's challenge to
traditional Aristotelian ontology less radical. On the Finnish
interpretation, justification involves actual participation in the
divine life, and thus has ontological implications for the justified
 individual.[24]



Luther also felt dissatisfied with the Aristotelian framework of
substance and accidents, and matter and form, in relation to his
distinctive views concerning other aspects of Christian doctrine,
particularly concerning the Eucharist, where for example in *The
Babylonian Captivity of the Church*, Luther argues strongly that
the Aristotelian assumptions which had structured much of the debate
on these matters were wrongly used to support the "babble"
of transubstantiation rather than his preferred view of real presence
(1520, WA 6:510-511/LW
 36:32-4)[25]--though
 he also accuses Aquinas of causing difficulties through his
misinterpretation of Aristotle, rather than just blaming Aristotle
himself (1520, WA 6:508/LW 36:29). In general, Luther's approach
here is that we should take literally the word of scripture which he
thinks support his view, rather than fall for using a pre-Christian
philosophy which may seem to make the Eucharist more comprehensible,
but which really does not, and which anyway is not appropriate goal
for what should remain a mystery and a matter of faith.



Through Luther's engagement with Aristotle, it is also
intriguing to try to locate him in the complex patchwork of disputing
schools that arose in this late medieval period concerning the proper
interpretation of Aristotle's work, and the challenges it faced.
One such challenge was from Ockham's nominalism or (to use the
more contemporary label) "termism"; and Luther was to
present himself as belonging to this
 position.[26]
 However, this issue is merely one of a broad spectrum of debates that
shaped the wider dispute between the so-called *via antiqua*
and *via moderna*, where the latter has links to (but cannot be
identified with) nominalist approaches. This has led to a considerable
amount of scholarly discussion and research, which has brought out how
Luther's education came through the *via moderna*, but
that he also occupied a position that was independent of any
 school.[27]


## 4. Luther on Freedom of the Will



Just as Luther's distinctive conception of justification and
grace plays a crucial role in his debates over the value of Aristotle,
so similar issues play a crucial role in his discussion of a related
philosophical issue, namely the value and nature of freedom, both
human and divine. The central text here is of course *The Bondage
of the Will*, in which as we have seen Luther engages with Erasmus
on precisely this issue.



The structure of Luther's response to Erasmus is largely
determined by the structure of Erasmus's *De libero
arbitrio*, as it attempts to reply to Erasmus point by point.
Erasmus's work begins with a preface and introduction, and ends
with a brief epilogue, while in between it has three parts: the first
dealing with scriptural texts that Erasmus takes to support free
choice; the second dealing with texts that might seem to oppose it;
and the third a part which examines Luther's earlier arguments
against free choice in his response to the papal condemnation of 1520.
This text is Luther's *Assertio omnium articulorum*
published in December of that year, in which (following John Wyclif (1324-1384))
he defended and went beyond the claim from the *Heidelberg
Disputation* which had been condemned, namely that "Free
will, after the Fall, exists in name only, and as long as it does what
it is able to do, it commits a mortal sin" (WA 1:354/LW
 31:40).[28]
 Correspondingly, Luther's reply to Erasmus has a brief
introduction, and then five main parts: the first two discuss
Erasmus's preface and introduction; a third part which questions
Erasmus's use of scriptural passages in support of free choice,
and a fourth which uses scriptural passages against it; and a fifth
part which challenges Erasmus's arguments against the position
Luther defended in the *Assertio*, while the final part
marshals Luther's general argument against free choice.



In an introduction heavy with irony and sarcasm (which sets the
rhetorical tone for much of the rest of the book, and which so
offended the urbane Erasmus), Luther apologies for his delay in
replying to Erasmus's *Diatribe*, but says that the cause
was "neither pressure of work, nor the difficulty of the task,
nor your great eloquence, nor any fear of you", but rather
"sheer disgust, anger, and contempt" at the quality of
Erasmus's work, and its "evasive and equivocal
nature": 



> 
> 
> you fancy yourself steering more cautiously than Ulysses between
> Scylla and Charybdis as you assert nothing while appearing to assert
> something. (WA 18:601-2/LW 33:17) 
> 
> 
> 



Nonetheless, Luther declares, he has seen that he really ought to
overcome this aversion and respond to those who have entreated him to
reply to Erasmus, as in expressing his views he may succeed in winning
over a reader to the truth and the Spirit that informs Luther's
works, where that reader might even be Erasmus himself.



In the first main part, which focuses on Erasmus's preface,
Luther begins by picking up on Erasmus's statement that outside
"the Holy Scripture...and the decrees of the Church"
(Erasmus 1524 [1969: 37]), he is cautious in making assertions, and
even would prefer the attitude of the Sceptics, who suspend judgement
on complex matters such as free will. In response, Luther rises to the
bait, where on the one hand Erasmus was clearly contrasting his more
modest position with Luther's own *Assertio* and sense of
conviction more generally, as well as on the other hand making a point of referring to
the authority of the Church alongside scripture. Against Erasmus,
Luther argues that scepticism is not an appropriate outlook for
Christians who are called on to assert their faith as trust in God,
while also criticising him for putting any weight on the decrees of
the Church, rather than on scripture alone, which Luther insists is
clear enough in its essentials and what it tells us, even though the
mind of God himself may be harder to fathom, and it may be difficult
for us to make philosophical sense of doctrines such as the Trinity.
Moreover, Luther criticises Erasmus for his suggestion that it is not
in fact necessary for the Christian to try to settle matters relating
to free will, particularly given the dangers that attach to
speculating on such questions. In response, Luther argues that this
issue cannot be avoided and is central, for 



> 
> 
> as long as [Christians] are ignorant of what and how much they can do,
> they will not know what they should do; and being ignorant of what
> they should do, they cannot repent if they do wrong; and impenitence
> is an unforgivable sin...[so] if we do not know these things, we shall know nothing at all of things
> Christian, and shall be worse than any heathen. (WA 18:614/LW 33:35)
> 
> 
> 



Likewise, Luther argues, the question of divine foreknowledge and of
whether everything happens necessarily is also an issue which cannot
be avoided: 



> 
> 
> For if you doubt or disdain to know that God foreknows all things, not
> contingently, but necessarily and immutably, how can you believe his
> promises and place a sure trust and reliance on them?... [T]his
> is the one supreme consolation of Christians in all adversities, to
> know that God does not lie, but does all things immutably, and that
> his will can neither be resisted nor changed nor hindered. (WA
> 18:619/LW 33:42-3) 
> 
> 
> 



Luther then goes on to criticise Erasmus's suggestion that
discussion of these issues should be kept from common ears, for fear
of leading people astray and causing strife, responding that the Word
of God is not to be supressed, and anyway tumult is to be expected from a
doctrine as radical as Christianity. Luther also challenges
Erasmus's claim that the Lutheran position on free will, even if
it were true, if widely broadcast would have deleterious effects on
the life of the believer, making them more likely to give up any
attempts to combat their evil, and to no longer believe in a God who
punishes them for what they cannot control. For Luther, however, this
is simply to beg the question, as living a better life and believing
in God are not things we can bring about in ourselves, but only occur
through God. Moreover, on Luther's account, it is only by
recognizing our impotence in these respects, and being thereby humbled
regarding what we can do and what we can understand, that we have any
chance of standing in the right relation to God at all.



Finally in this part, Luther turns to consider Erasmus's
contention that there is a fundamental paradox in the idea that
"whatever is done by us is done not by free choice but of sheer
necessity" (WA 18:139/LW 33:64; cf. Erasmus 1524 [1969: 41]),
where he makes several key claims that will be developed further in
what follows. First, he argues that this is entailed once we accept
that our salvation is the work of God, from which it follows that if
we do good it is a result of his agency, while if that agency is not
present all we can do is what is bad, so that we lack any power of
choice in this matter. However, secondly Luther stresses that this
does not mean we are compelled or forced to act as we do, so that 



> 
> 
> by "necessarily" I do not mean "compulsorily"
> [*coacte*], but by the necessity of immutability (as they say)
> and not of compulsion, 
> 
> 
> 



so that 



> 
> 
> when a man is without the Spirit of God he does not do evil against
> his will [*nolens*], as if he were taken by the scruff of the
> neck and forced to it, like a thief or a robber carried off against
> his will to punishment, but he does it of his own accord and with a
> ready will [*libenti voluntate*]. (WA 18:634/LW 33:64) 
> 
> 
> 



Thus, though we lack free choice, we do not lack free will, understood
as a force that leads us to act, a force that grows stronger the more
it is resisted. At this point, Luther makes his famous use of the
traditional simile, that the human will is like a horse that can fall
under two riders, Satan or God, who will determine which way it goes,
but like a horse it follows either perfectly willingly: 



> 
> 
> If God rides it, it wills and goes where God wills, as the psalm says:
> "I am become as a beast [before thee] and I am always with
> thee" [Psalms 73:22-23]. If Satan rides it, it wills and
> goes where Satan will; nor can it choose to run to either of the two
> riders or to seek him out, but the riders themselves contend for the
> possession and control of it. (WA 18:635/LW 33:65-6) 
> 
> 
> 



Luther further argues that as Erasmus himself allows that free choice
without the grace of God is "entirely ineffective"
(Erasmus 1524 [1969: 41), he does not really disagree with Luther's
position, as 



> 
> 
> to say that free choice exists, and has indeed some power, but that it
> is only an ineffective power, is what the Sophists call *oppositum
> in adjecto* [a contradiction in terms]. (WA 18:636/LW 33:66) 
> 
> 
> 



The only being with genuine free choice, Luther asserts, is God, and
it is misleading to apply the term to us, so that it would be best if
we did not attach it to human beings at all--or if we must
continue to use it, to do so only in relation "to what is
beneath him and not what is above him", where it makes some
sense to speak of free choice in a limited sense: 



> 
> 
> That is to say, a man should know that with regard to his faculties
> and possessions he has the right to use, to do, or to leave undone,
> according to his own free choice, though even this is controlled by
> the free choice of God alone, who acts in whatever way he pleases. On
> the other hand in relation to God, or in matters pertaining to
> salvation or damnation, a man has no free choice, but is a captive,
> subject and slave either of the will of God or the will of Satan. (WA
> 18:638/LW 33:70)
> 
> 
> 



In the second part of his text, Luther turns to Erasmus's
introduction, where Erasmus had questioned Luther's position on
the grounds that few of the saints, Church fathers, and scriptural
authorities have adopted a view of this sort. Luther's response
is that while these authorities may have *said* there is free
choice, in their *actions* they have not shown they possess it,
while they also have all conceived of it in rather different ways, so
it is not clear that there is any consensus here at all--and at
the same time, Luther argues that the all-important figure of
Augustine is on his side, not Erasmus's as the latter had
claimed. Given this confused picture, Luther concludes that as a
result, the matter must be settled by appeal to scripture alone, and
not by appeal to the authority of previous commentators, or of the
Church. Luther thus proceeds to the first main part of Erasmus's
text, in which Erasmus had offered a number of biblical passages that
he claimed to support the idea of free choice.



At the beginning of Part Three of his own work, before getting on to
these passages, Luther begins with an important critique of the
definition of free choice with which Erasmus had started his
discussion: 



> 
> 
> By free choice in this place we mean 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. (WA 18:661-2/LW
> 33:102-3, citing Erasmus 1524 [1969: 47]) 
> 
> 
> 



Luther raises various objections to Erasmus's definition (for Erasmus's replies, see 1529 [1999: 261-91]). First,
he points out that as free choice applies to God and angels, Erasmus
is wrong to define it as applying only to human will. Second, he
argues it is misleading to apply the term "free" to human
choice, as this would wrongly imply that a human being "can do
and does, in relation to God, whatever it pleases, uninhibited by any
law or any sovereign authority", which Luther takes for granted
is not what Erasmus has in mind. The human will clearly cannot simply
do as it pleases when it comes to matters of eternal salvation, as if
it operated in a normative vacuum. Rather, the will is obliged by God
to act in different ways, so it is only free insofar as it fails to do
so because it is "vertible" or "mutable", by
failing to do what is required of it by being turned away from the
good, which is hardly a form of freedom to be admired, as Augustine
and others have noted. Thus, while Erasmus's attempted
definition confuses matters, Luther argues that the question at issue
is therefore whether human beings have the capacity to actively and
legitimately turn their will to follow or not follow what God has made
it right to do--so Luther says that when he uses "free
choice" in what comes next, he will be using it in this way.



Luther's third objection is that even when we get clear what we
are trying to define, Erasmus's definition is itself unclear,
particularly the terms "to apply", "to the things
which lead" and "to turn away". The only way to
understand "to apply" and "to turn away",
Luther argues, is to think that the will is not merely a power that
gives rise to action, but at the same time stands between that willing
and action, as a capacity for deciding how the will is to be
exercised, as a 



> 
> 
> capacity or faculty or ability or aptitude for willing, unwilling,
> selecting, neglecting, approving, rejecting, and whatever other
> actions of the will there are. (WA 18:662-3/LW 33:105) 
> 
> 
> 



However, this then means, Luther argues, that on Erasmus's
account, if a human being does "the things which lead" to
eternal salvation, this is not just because they have willed these
things, but rather have chosen to act on them through exercising this
capacity for choice--which is enough to make him a semi-Pelagian,
who believes in this capacity for choice even though he disagrees with
Pelagius himself over our ability to also know unaided the matters of
salvation and thus the good concerning which we are said to choose.
Moreover, Luther argues, this view contradicts what Erasmus himself
had said previously, namely that "in those who lack grace"
the power of the will is "unable to perform the good"
(Erasmus 1524 [1969: 49]) and is thus (as Luther puts it)
"incapacitated without grace" (WA 18:665/LW 33:108), and
so not able to "apply itself" to such matters at all.
Luther thus poses a question to Erasmus which he thinks could also be
posed to the Scholastics (who are labelled as Sophists throughout this
text): 



> 
> 
> If anyone told you that a thing was free which could operate by its
> own power only in one direction (the bad one), while in the other (the
> good one) it could of course operate, though not by its own power, but
> only by the help of another--would you be able to keep a straight
> face my friend? (WA 18:665/LW 33:109)
> 
> 
> 



Luther then turns to consider Erasmus's treatment of the effect
of the Fall on the human will, in which Erasmus had distinguished
three views on where this left free choice once the Pelagian option is set aside: those that hold human
beings can choose to strive towards the good but cannot attain it
without grace (co-operative grace); those who hold that left to
ourselves we only choose to sin, so that grace alone can enable us to
attain the good; and those who hold there is no free choice at all,
which is thus said to be "an empty" name--where
Erasmus calls this view "the hardest of all", and is of
course the one put forward by Luther himself (as well as John Wyclif in his early work, who Erasmus associated with
Luther, an association the latter was happy to 
 accept).[29]
 Luther's
strategy in response is to argue that by conceding that human beings
without grace cannot will the good, Erasmus has already ruled out the
first option even though he is clearly attracted by it, while Luther
argues that the second must collapse into the third, as if free choice
in humans is always for sin, it always goes in one direction and so is
not really choice at all. Luther also makes a diagnostic point, that
underlying Erasmus's confusion here is the idea that while the
will cannot will the good unaided, it is not necessarily therefore
committed to willing the bad but still has some choice, as it could
remain in a "neutral" position between the two; but Luther
rejects this picture, as once the will has turned away from the good,
it is willing the bad, rather than being in some "middle"
or "unqualified" state.



Luther then returns to the passage from Ecclesiasticus 15:14-17
with which Erasmus had prefaced his discussion, to consider how
Erasmus uses it to support his view. Luther first considers the
opening line, which says that "God... left [man] in the
hands of his own counsel", which might suggest that we are left
free to choose; but Luther counters that this only means we are given
dominion over the rest of the creatures on earth, while beyond this we
remain bound by the commandments of God which are referred to in the
next line of the biblical text. However, Luther then considers one of
Erasmus's key arguments, namely that talk of such commandments
here and in many other passages also implies we have free choice, for
otherwise they would make no sense, and nor would the punishment
attached to failing to act on them be warranted, thus raising the
problem for Luther of "ought implies can", and of
imputation (cf. Erasmus 1524 [1969: 50]).



In response to the first issue of "ought implies can",
Luther uses this as an occasion to bring out the folly of reason when
it considers such matters, because reason thinks it can appeal to our
ordinary use of words like "ought" and "must"
to infer "can"--but Luther thinks that in fact even
in ordinary practice, we can intelligibly tell someone they ought or
must do something, knowing full well they cannot, as when a parent
does so in order to demonstrate to a child the limitations of their
ability, or a doctor in order to demonstrate such limitations to their
patient. Luther argues that Scripture, unlike Erasmus, takes our human
limitations very seriously, so it is therefore not surprising that
such uses of command language abound, where Luther deals with many
similar passages in the same way: 



> 
> 
> The words of the law are spoken, therefore, not to affirm the power of
> the will, but to enlighten blind reason and make it see that its own
> light is no light and that the virtue of the will is no virtue, 
> 
> 
> 



and he cites Paul as being on his side: 



> 
> 
> "Through the law", says Paul, "comes knowledge of
> sin" [Romans 3:20]; he does not say the "abolition"
> or "avoidance" of sin. (WA 18:677/LW 33:127) 
> 
> 
> 



In response to Erasmus on this issue, Luther thus offers what has been
called his "convicting" view of the law, which is designed
to reveal our impotence to us, thus provoking the kind of despair and
sense of helplessness that can open us up to grace, in accordance with
the "theology of the cross"--a process Erasmus would
forestall if we took him seriously, and inferred instead that because
we fall under the law, we can take steps to follow it through our own
choice (cf. WA 18:680-1/LW 33:133).



Luther also deals with the problem of imputation and divine
punishment, which seems to arise if we lack free choice: for how can
our sins be imputed to us, and how can God allow us to be punished
when we cannot do otherwise and he could remove the defect in our will
which means we are not saved but are punished? Here Luther appeals to
the inscrutability of God's plans and purposes, into which we
are not entitled to probe: 



> 
> 
> [W]hy that majesty of his does not remove or change this defect of our
> will in all men, since it is not in man's power to do so, or why
> he imputes this defect to man, when man cannot help having it, we have
> no right to inquire; and though you may do a lot of inquiring, you
> will never find out. It is as Paul says in Romans 11 [*sic*; the
> correct reference is 9:20]: "Who are you, to answer back to
> God?" (WA 18:686/LW 33:140) 
> 
> 
> 



Likewise, Luther goes on to argue that when it comes to rewards, these
are similarly unearned, where to think otherwise will only lead to a
kind of works righteousness.



Finally, in the concluding discussion of this third part of his text,
Luther repeats a claim he has made at several previous points: namely,
that if Erasmus's arguments prove anything, they prove too much,
by establishing the full-blown Pelagianism Erasmus thinks he can
avoid. For, if the arguments from "ought implies can" and
from imputation are taken seriously at all, then they would establish
that we are not merely free to the limited degree Erasmus claims, but
are fully free to do the good, so that "if anything is proved,
complete freedom of choice is proved with it"--but this is
"a complete subversion" of what Erasmus wanted to show, as
he tried instead to argue for the more moderate view that "such
a free choice can do nothing good and is in bondage to sin" (WA
18:696/LW 33:156). Luther claims, therefore, that Erasmus's
position undermines itself.



In the fourth part, Luther now considers Erasmus's arguments
challenging those scriptural passages which seem to count against free
choice, such as Exodus 9:12: "The Lord hardened the heart of
Pharaoh". Luther criticises not only Erasmus's various
interpretative suggestions, but also his motives in offering them,
which is to try to make God's actions morally comprehensible to
our reason, rather than simply accepting the goodness of God (WA
18:707-8/LW 33:173-4). He goes on to suggest that for our
reason to ask for more than this, and to insist that God is
constrained by certain moral norms, is to violate God's
omnipotence, thus leading Luther to take clear sides on the so-called
Euthyphro dilemma, in adopting a form of voluntarism that may be
traced back to Duns Scotus and to Ockham: 



> 
> 
> He is God, and for his will there is no cause or reason that can be
> laid down as a rule or measure for it, since there is nothing equal or
> superior to it, but it is itself the rule of all things. For if there
> were any rule or standard for it, either as cause or reason, it could
> no longer be the will of God. For it is not because he is or was
> obliged so to will that what he wills is right, but on the contrary,
> because he himself so wills, therefore what happens must be right.
> Cause and reason can be assigned for a creature's will, but not
> for the will of the Creator, unless you set up over him another
> creator. (WA 18:712/LW 33:181)
> 
> 
> 



Luther then follows Erasmus's discussion, in turning from this
text to Paul's discussion of it in Romans 9:15-18, which
raises the issue of divine foreknowledge, and how that relates to free
choice in human beings. In considering this issue, Erasmus had made
use of the scholastic distinction between the necessity of the
consequence and the necessity of the consequent, arguing that while it
may be that if God wills something it happens necessarily (necessity
of the consequence), it does not follow that this happening is
necessary (necessity of the consequent), thus leaving space for free
choice (Erasmus 1524 [1969: 66-8]). In response, Luther argues
that divine foreknowledge makes this distinction moot: for if we allow
this foreknowledge, then what God knows must happen necessarily
otherwise he could not know it infallibly in advance; and if God did
not have this knowledge, 



> 
> 
> you take away faith and fear of God, make havoc of all the divine
> promises and threatenings, and thus deny his very divinity. (WA
> 18:715/LW 33:186) 
> 
> 
> 



Luther thus rejects Erasmus's attempt to leave any space for
free choice, given divine foreknowledge (for Erasmus's response, see Erasmus 1527 [1999: 493-520]): 



> 
> 
> If God foreknows that Judas will turn traitor, or that he will change
> his will to betray, whichever God has foreknown will necessarily come
> about, or else God will be mistaken in his foreknowing and predicting,
> which is impossible. (WA 18:722/LW 33:194-5)
> 
> 
> 



After the discussion of some other relevant scriptural passages,
Luther returns to consider Erasmus's motives in resisting what
Luther takes to be the plain meaning of these texts in his conclusion
of this fourth part--which is that Erasmus wishes to constrain
God within the bounds of what is comprehensible to human reason, and
so refuses to let God be God. In response, Luther writes:



> 
> 
> Human nature [*caro*] does not think fit to give God such glory
> as to believe him just and good when he speaks and acts above and
> beyond what the Code of Justinian has laid down, or the fifth book of
> Aristotle's *Ethics*. The Majesty that is the creator of
> all must bow down to one of the dregs of his creation, and the famed
> Corycian cavern must reverse its role and stand in awe of the
> spectators!... [W]hat becomes of the potter's power to make
> what he likes, if he is subjected to merits and laws and not allowed
> to make what he likes, but required to make what he ought? (WA
> 18:729-30/LW 33:206-7)
> 
> 
> 



Furthermore, Luther argues, if we did try to hold God to human norms
of justice, we should be as critical of divine grace and forgiveness,
which also violates these norms--or if it does not, and God
rewards only those who deserve it, then in the case of someone who
receives this reward in full, their goodness must be wholly due to
their will, thus denying a role for grace at all (WA 33:733/LW
33:211). Luther argues once again, therefore, that Erasmus's
argument overshoots and so undermines itself.



In the fifth part of his text, Luther moves on to discussing
Erasmus's arguments over the scriptural passages which Luther
had used to challenge free choice in his *Assertio*. In
response and in defending his own interpretation of those passages,
Luther makes a number of similar points to those used in previous
parts, such as: Erasmus ignores the convicting sense of the law (WA
18:736/LW 33:216); he confuses lack of free choice with coercion (WA
18:747/LW 33:233); he treats free choice as if it could occupy
normatively neutral ground (WA 18:750/LW 33:237); and his argument
overshoots, so that if followed consistently it results in Pelagianism
(WA 18:755/LW 33:245). Likewise, in the sixth part, when offering
further passages against free choice, Luther again reiterates his
earlier arguments, particularly that works in accordance with the law
do not justify (WA 18:764/LW 33:258); that the role of the law is to
bring knowledge of sin (WA 18:766/LW 33:261); that Erasmus's
position is an unstable form of semi-Pelagianism (WA
18:769-70/LW 33:267-8); that divine foreknowledge and
predestination leave no room for free choice (WA 18:772-3/LW
33:272); that free choice is not in a neutral space between good and
evil (WA 18:779/LW 33:281-2); and that our dominion over
creation does not entail that we have free choice in relation to God
(WA 18:281/LW 33:284-5). In the concluding pages, Luther makes
vividly clear the underlying spiritual concerns which motivate his
position: namely that for salvation to be dependent on the properly
used free choice of the believer is to leave the believer in the sort
of uncertainty regarding salvation which had plagued Luther's
own earlier spiritual life, and which he was now thankful to have
escaped, once he saw that "God has taken my salvation out of my
hands into his, making it dependent on his choice and not mine"
(WA 18:783/LW 33:289). Moreover, he adds the Christological argument:
if human beings had the capacity to save themselves through their
choices, Christ would have died in vain.


## 5. Luther's Ethics and Social Philosophy



Luther's rethinking of these issues of grace and salvation were
not seen by him as merely concerning the individual's relation
to God, but also to have wider ethical and social implications
concerning the relation of individuals to one another, and of
individuals to the community to which they belong. It is thus clear
throughout his writings that Luther saw his transition from
"justification through works" to "justification
through faith" as having a major impact on his conception of
ethics and social philosophy.



At the centre of Christian ethics is the commandment to love
one's neighbour; but Luther thinks this is only properly
understood and made possible on his account of our relation to God,
for a variety of reasons. First, if justification it to be earned
through works, our justification remains uncertain in a way that fuels
the kind of introspective anxiety that makes it impossible to love the
neighbour, by instead turning us in on
 ourselves.[30]
 Second, these works become instrumental in earning our own salvation,
thus no longer involving genuine concern for our neighbour but only
for our own
 well-being.[31]
 Third, the works that will be our primary focus are religious works
such as penance, and thus not ethical ones that concern the
 neighbour.[32]
 Fourth, if we think we can achieve good works without a prior act of
grace, this will fuel a pride and sense of self-cultivated
virtuousness which will cause us to look down on the neighbour rather
than love them, a difficulty that leads Luther to be critical of the
kind of virtue ethics associated with the Aristotelian
 tradition.[33]
 Thus, by starting with justification through works we will be unable
to truly love the neighbour, for as we have seen, this love will be
blocked by a mixture of anxiety about our own salvation and pride at
our own achievements, so finally the most we will be able manage in
relation to the neighbour is a kind of dutiful obedience of the
commandment as a law, which itself gets in the way of a genuine
attitude of love.



By contrast, Luther argues, once we move from justification through
works to justification through faith, love of the neighbour becomes
possible as these obstacles are removed. Instead of feeling both
anxious and prideful, the believer is released from this anxiety
through the promise of a grace that does not have to be earned, and
from their pride by realising that this grace is unmerited. This frees
the individual from their self-absorption which had turned them in on
themselves, and enables them to face outwards towards the neighbour,
who they no longer view as an instrument to their own salvation. In
experiencing God's love of us through grace, and of
Christ's giving of himself for us, we then turn to express this
love not only to God, but also to pass on this gift to the neighbour,
thereby doing the good works we ought to do in a spontaneous way
rather than feeling compelled to act in an imperatival
 manner.[34]
 This shift in perspective is captured by Luther's famously
dialectical claim in *The Freedom of the Christian*: "A
Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none", in
so far as the Christian is freed from following the law in an
instrumental manner and out of fear for its penalties; on the other
hand "A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject
to all" (WA 7:21 (German), 7:49 (Latin)/LW 31:344), as the
Christian feels a gratitude to God and to Christ that also opens them
up to their neighbour, who they serve in
 love.[35]
 Luther thus insists that works still play a fundamental role in the
Christian life, but a role that takes a different and healthier
form.



Likewise, as Luther made particularly clear towards the end of his life in his dispute with Johann
Agricola (1494-1566) in his open letter *Against the Antinomians* (1539) and associated Disputations (1537-40), whilst the
freedom of the Christian means that they are freed from a kind of
*subjection* to the law and fulfilling it plays no role in
their salvation, this does not mean that they are somehow outside or
beyond the law, and nor does this mean that the preaching of the law
should play no part in the life of the Church. As regards the latter
point, we have already seen that consciousness of law can play an
important "convicting" role in leading to the kind of
despair that opens us up to grace. And as regards the former point,
while the Christian *qua* Christian will not feel the law as a
constraint or as a vehicle for salvation, this does not mean that the
law does not apply to them. Luther also presents himself as
occupying a similar middle position when it comes to ceremonial laws
(cf. *The Freedom of the Christian* WA 7:70-3/LW
 31:375-77).[36]



Moreover, Luther's theological anthropology of course recognizes
that we are not *just* Christian, but also have to deal with
the "outer man" or "fallen man" who still
requires control, so that the Christian who is also human will find it
hard not to see the law as something before which they are required to
submit, though they will do so willingly. Likewise and more generally,
the Christian lives in a society in which not all are good, so that
laws are required in order to constrain the behaviour of the
wicked--which alongside its "convicting" use, is the
other function of the law in Luther's
 account.[37]
 Such laws will require authority in those who institute and enforce
them, an authority grounded in the important role that these public
bodies play in enabling fallen human beings to live together, and thus
in fulfilling God's purposes for the world.



In recognizing how far law and the legitimacy of public authorities
and social structures rest on the role of both in furthering the ends
of God's creation, there is an important connection between
Luther's ethics and social philosophy and the theistic natural
law tradition. Moreover, Luther forms part of this tradition in
frequently arguing on the basis of Paul's statement in Romans
2:15, that this natural law "is written in the depth of the
heart and cannot be erased" (*Against the Antinomians* WA
50:471/LW 47:110), so that human beings are naturally born with a
knowledge of fundamental moral precepts, which are accessible to us
through reason and felt through conscience. However, the Fall has
impacted on this knowledge, which is why there can also be a place for
a law that is revealed to us, as Moses did to the people of Israel,
and preached on that basis, though in doing so what is revealed does
not provide us with a new law, but reawakens our awareness of the law
that is written on our
 hearts.[38]
 Furthermore, while the decalogue is fundamental and
 eternal,[39]
 other aspects of the law of Moses are more context specific and
require further
 elaboration.[40]
 In some discussions, however, Luther distinguishes between the
natural law which applies and is known to all and which "even
the heathen, Turks, and Jews have to keep if there is to be any peace
or order in the world", and "the law of Christ, and of the
gospel, which is not binding on the heathen", and which requires
more than the former law, such as love of the enemy and the
willingness "to give up life and property, and let whoever takes
it have it", and thus if necessary to set aside temporal goods
(*Admonition to Peace*, 1525, WA 18:307-311/LW
46:27-29).



This distinction reflects a wider distinction in Luther's ethics
and social philosophy, between the structures necessary to enable the
flourishing of fallen human beings as parts of God's creation,
and a concern with our spiritual lives to which different
considerations apply. This distinction is reflected in Luther's
well-known but complex and evolving distinction between "two
kingdoms" [*die zwei Reiche*] and the related distinction
between "two governments" (or "regiments")
[*die zwei Regimente*]. The worldly or temporal kingdom is
where human beings live within the world, which is structured by God
to make this possible into three "orders" or
"hierarchies" or "estates", which were the
*politia* or *civitas*, the *oeconomia*, and the
*ecclesia*, namely government and state, the household and
economic human interactions more generally, and the Church. The
individual then has an office or calling or station within these
various orders, which because these are divinely ordained are a way
for individuals within their station to serve God, and may give some
individuals in certain offices authority over others. Within the
worldly kingdom, therefore, there are also worldly authorities
operating at the political and social level (including within the
Church), who should exercise that authority with a view to enabling
fallen human beings within God's creation to live together as
well as they can; they therefore do not get that authority from the
world, or exercise it on their own behalf, so that in this sense they
also fall under divine authority and are subordinated to God's
spiritual kingdom, while nonetheless remaining distinguishable from it
in terms of their primary focus, which is "life and property and
external affairs on earth" (*Temporal Authority*, 1523,
WA 11:265-6/LW 45:111-2). By contrast, 



> 
> 
> [t]he spiritual government or authority [*Regiment oder Amt*]
> pointed Christians above itself, towards God, to do right and find
> salvation. (WA 51:241/LW 13:197) 
> 
> 
> 



As this is the kingdom of grace, and God's grace is present in
Christ, it is ruled by Christ who brings the gospel and grace to human
beings, in conjunction with the Holy Spirit. As a spiritual being who
is also a citizen of the world, the Christian therefore lives under
both governments, as well as a two-fold law, reflected in the
distinction between the natural and Christian law outlined
 above.[41]



This complex structure obviously raises the question of how these two
aspects of the Christian life can be related, and whether they can
come into conflict. Luther's position here is nuanced, as while
he distinguishes between these aspects in the way we have seen, he
does not treat them dualistically as is sometimes suggested, by
separating off the this-worldly from the other-worldly, the temporal
from the spiritual, the outer from the inner, or social life from the
individual's relation to God. Rather, in *On Temporal
Authority*, Luther argues that while "no one can become
righteous in the sight of God by means of the temporal
government" (1523, WA 11:252/LW 45:92), and while Christians who
have the Holy Spirit in their heart have no need of such a government
to constrain them (1523, WA 11:249-50/LW 45:88-9),
nonetheless the Christian who is enabled by God's love to love
the neighbour will thereby be engaged with what this requires of them
in the world as a result of this neighbour love, including occupying
its various offices and upholding its laws, which can include if
necessary exercising force over
 others.[42]
 The Christian will not adopt these practices for their own good, or
think that following them counts as a route to their own salvation;
but they will see that these practices can be necessary for the good
of the neighbour, and that love for the neighbour will therefore
involve not withdrawing from the world into spiritual
other-worldliness and isolation, but engaging with it.



However, this approach of course gives rise to a further question:
namely, under what conditions should the Christian be committed to
supporting the secular authorities, particularly when their power is
made greater through Luther's downgrading of the authority of
the Church in temporal matters. This issue was made vivid for Luther
in the context of the Peasants' Revolt discussed above. On the
one hand, Luther places limits on political obedience, as princes have
no absolute authority but are merely the "masks" or
*larvae* of God, and so are themselves constrained to act as
God ordained, and so for the good of their people and in accordance
with God's word; the people of a prince who does wrong in these
terms are therefore not required to obey
 him.[43]
 Moreover, such princes are not to compel their citizens on matters of
faith, which do not fall under their
 jurisdiction.[44]
 On the other hand, as the individual Christian should ultimately have
little concern for their own temporal interests, if the secular power
acts against those interests, the Christian will not see this as
giving them a right to rebel and overthrow the secular
 power,[45]
 while only God can act as its judge and inflict punishment upon those
who
 rule.[46]
 It remains a matter of dispute whether Luther succeeded in striking a
stable balance here, as on other issues discussed above.


## 6. Luther's Influence



Luther's thinking exerted a considerable influence not only on
his own time and on his immediate contemporaries, but also on those
who have come after him. While his most significant impact has of
course been in theology, and while it would be wrong to suggest that
there is anything like a Lutheran school in philosophy, nonetheless
Luther has played an important role for a range of key philosophical
figures from Hobbes and Leibniz, to Heidegger. This impact is
considered in more detail in a separate entry, as well as his
influence on "modernity" more broadly. For a fuller
discussion, see the entry on 
 Luther's influence on philosophy.