Luther and Benedict - God, Conscience, and the Communion of Saints

"The Protestant Reformation has contributed notably to the constitution of Europe, and it is generally accepted that this action has entailed a surrender of what one might call the Benedictine spirit.  Let us concede as much. Nevertheless, notwithstanding harsh and draconian critiques of monasticism, the priorities established by Luther - God, conscience, and the communion of saints - were also those of Saint Benedict.  Martin Luther went to the Diet of Worms impelled by the same motive that led Benedict to Subiaco: he was bound in conscience by the Word of God.  With God's help he stood fast, for he could not do otherwise.

And the emblem of the Protestant Reformation has always remained a monk struggling in prayer, hunched over his Bible, his unconscious teeming with the images and the words of Scripture, above all those of the Psalter."

(Gordon Rupp, as quoted in "In the School of Contemplation" by Andre Louf, OCSO).

Luther on Monasticism

Anyone who is familiar with the writings of Martin Luther knows that he did not hide his disdain for the monastic lifestyle from which he came.  Many people take that criticism to mean that Luther was advocating for the complete removal of monasticism from Christianity.  A careful reading of Luther does not support that conclusion, though.  For, in the midst of his vitriolic writings directed against the medieval monastic institutions, you can find quotes like these:

"And so, if you vow to take up the religious life, and if you live with men of like mind, with a clear conscience that in monasticism you seek nothing to your advantage in your relationship with God, but because either your situation has brought you to embrace this kind of life, or it appeared to be the best way of life for you, without your thinking thereby that you are better than he who takes a wife or takes up farming, then in that case you are neither wrong to take vows nor wrong to live in this way, insofar as the propriety of the vow is concerned." (From "Judgment of Martin Luther on Monastic Vows", written in 1521, and found in Luther's Works, Vol. 44, page 304).

In that same writing, Luther had nothing but praise for St. Anthony, the founder of monasticism:

"St. Anthony, the very father of monks and the founder of monastic life, most wisely and in a Christian manner believed and taught that absolutely nothing should be observed which did not have the authority of Scripture. He knew absolutely nothing about monastic vows and ceremonial of this kind, but willingly chose to live as a hermit, and of his own will chose to live unmarried, after the pattern of the gospel.  Pursuing human wisdom, his successors made this way of life into a vow, into a matter of obligation and compulsion.  This way of life is but a specious copy and a mistaken observance of the rule of Anthony, which is the rule of Christ." (Luther's Works, Vol. 44, p. 253).


These passages make it apparent that Luther did not seek to destroy monasticism, but to reform it, and to have it return to its roots according to the way of the early monastics. His criticisms were not directed at the very existence of monasticism, but at the system of vows that had developed, and at the medieval notion that monasticism was a superior form of life compared to other vocations, such as family life and other forms of labor.

Unfortunately, churches that are the heirs of the Reformation have largely forgotten that the rule of St. Anthony is the rule of Christ.  But, as I have noted elsewhere, the seeds are being sown for a new form of monasticism, based on the Gospel and the ancient forms of monasticism.  It is my belief that this new/old form of monasticism  will play a crucial role in the promulgation of the faith in our increasingly secular, post-Christendom context.    

Freedom (Monday Morning in the Desert)

When I think of what "freedom" means, I usually think of those freedoms guaranteed by the United States Constitution, which I swore to uphold when I was sworn in as an attorney.  Specifically, I think of the freedoms set forth in the Bill of Rights (freedom of speech, religion, assembly, etc.).  But as a Christian, "freedom" has a different meaning.   A monk of Mount Athos, St. Silouan, had this to say about freedom:

"People generally seek freedom in order to do what they like.  But that is not freedom, but the power of sin over you.... True freedom means constant dwelling in God."  (From p. 65 of "St. Silouoan the Athonite" by Archimandrite Sophrony).

In other words, Christian freedom should not lead to a self-absorbed lifestyle, nor a faith which is all about "just me and Jesus".  Christian freedom means that through grace, we have been reconciled with God, and because of that, we have been freed from the captivity of sin to willingly serve God and our neighbors.  Luther summed up the paradoxical nature of Christian freedom when he stated: "A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none.  A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject of all, subject to all."  

A Mystical Renewal

One year ago this month, I started this blog, not knowing if anyone would read it.  While the number of people reading this blog isn't huge, I think there has been enough traffic to this site, and corresponding positive feedback, to verify something that I have suspected for awhile now: There is a desire among Lutherans, and members of similar traditions which arose at the time of the Reformation, to explore spiritual practices that have been minimized in our churches, even though they are a good and helpful part of our Catholic heritage.

In short, I will describe that desire as a hunger for mysticism.

Mysticism has become a dirty word in certain Protestant and Lutheran circles because there are uses of the word which are contrary to our beliefs, including some uses which are contrary to Christianity altogether. 

Mysticism can mean spiritual beliefs which blur the lines between the Creator and the created, and spiritual practices which lead to a belief that the best place to find God is by looking into yourself.  I'm not talking about that kind of mysticism.

Mysticism can also lead to a mindset which focuses on what we do for God, instead of what God has done for us.  I'm not talking about that kind of mysticism, either.

When I am talking about mysticism, I simply mean an awareness, through faith, of God's presence in our lives.  I believe that kind of mysticism is fully compatible with Christianity, as well as Lutheranism.  In fact, I would say that not only is that kind of mysticism compatible with our faith - it is necessary for our faith to be sustained.

The beliefs and practices I have written about on this blog have been related to that form of mysticism.  For example, the Jesus Prayer, lectio divina, and the daily rhythm of prayers and readings (found in the Rule of St. Benedict, and included in the lectionaries and daily prayer services in our Lutheran worship books as well as the Book of Common Prayer) help us to give thanks to God our Father, focus our attention on Christ and him crucified, and enhance our awareness of the presence of the Holy Spirit in and around us.

After all, Martin Luther himself had a profound mystical experience (commonly referred to as the "tower experience") after engaging in a period of meditation on Scripture, akin to lectio divina: 


“The words ‘righteous’ and ‘righteousness of God’ struck my conscience like lightning. When I heard them I was exceedingly terrified. If God is righteous [I thought], he must punish. But when by God’s grace I pondered, in the tower and heated room of this building, over the words, ‘He who through faith is righteous shall live’ [Rom. 1:17] and ‘the righteousness of God’ [Rom. 3:21], I soon came to the conclusion that if we, as righteous men, ought to live from faith and if the righteousness of God contribute to the salvation of all who believe, then salvation won’t be our merit but God’s mercy. My spirit was thereby cheered. For it’s by the righteousness of God that we’re justified and saved through Christ. These words [which had before terrified me] now became more pleasing to me. The Holy Spirit unveiled the Scriptures for me in this tower.”

(From Luther's Works Volume 54: Table Talk).

(The tower of the Augustinian monastery in Wittenberg where Luther was a monk).

So, thank you for accompanying me on my journey into blogging this past year.  With God's grace and help, I look forward to further exploration of the kind of Christian spiritual practices and beliefs which might help our awareness of God's presence in our lives. 

How to Fight a Zombie Apocalypse

Zombies are all around us! 

Halloween is approaching, so signs of the "Zombie Apocalypse" are increasing.  The town where I live just had its annual "zombie walk." My son plays in a college marching band, and the theme of their halftime show is the "Zombie Apocalypse." The fourth season of a popular television show ("The Walking Dead" - the story of a post-apocalyptic America overrun by zombies) just began.  The DVD of the zombie movie "World War Z" recently topped the sales charts.

The "Zombie Apocalypse" is fictional, of course, but our culture's fascination with a world taken over by the living dead is perhaps another sign that our culture has an unhealthy relationship with the prospect of death, as well as the future of our world.  What can we do about this unhealthy relationship?

A simple gesture can help - the sign of the cross.

In my (admittedly limited) experience, I have noticed that Lutherans have recently made the sign of the cross upon themselves much more frequently.  Luther wrote that at the beginning of our morning and evening prayers, we should make the sign of the cross, but somewhere along the line, many Lutherans forgot to follow his advice.  Increasingly, though, it appears that we are returning to one of the most ancient forms of Christian devotion.

So, how does the sign of the cross help us deal with death and the future of the world?  And, just in case there really is a "Zombie Apocalypse", would making the sign of the cross help us against the undead?  These words from a Benedictine monk (which would be whole-heartedly endorsed by Luther, I think) help answer those questions:

"This gesture of signing oneself with the cross, like no other gesture, identifies the Christian as a 'Christian', as (one) whose salvation comes solely from Christ's death on the Cross, into which (we have) been drawn in a mysterious manner through the sacrament of baptism. . . .

For this reason the holy sign of the cross, which we make over ourselves or others, is always a profession of faith in the victory that Christ on the Cross won against every hostile power.  For the Fathers always made use of this sign, also, whenever they knew that they were confronted with these hostile powers.  Indeed, Anthony the Great (one of the Desert Fathers of the early Church) taught his disciples that the demons and phantasms were in reality 'nothing and quickly disappear, especially when a person (is armed) with faith and the sign of the cross.' . . . .

As great as the power of the sign of the cross is, it is not a question of a magical gesture.  It is faith that makes it mighty!"

(from pages 181-183 of "Earthen Vessels:  The Practice of Personal Prayer According to the Patristic Tradition" by Gabriel Bunge, O.S.B.).

Thoughts from a Benedictine on the Sacramental Nature of Scripture

Today in the mail, I received a book called "Meeting Christ in His Mysteries: A Benedictine Vision of the Spiritual Life" by Gregory Collins, OSB. While I was skimming through parts of it this evening, I noticed a passage entitled "The Sacramental Mystery of Scripture." 

Since I wrote a blog post on that same subject a few months ago (http://benedictinelutheran.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-sacramental-quality-of-reading.html), I have been thinking about how viewing Scripture as a sacrament cuts through the tired debates about the Bible that seem to be largely driven by American Protestants.  Conservative American Protestants demand allegiance to a belief in the inerrancy and infallibility of Scripture.  Liberal American Protestants are all over the map on how to view Scripture, but are united in their opposition to believing that it is inerrant and infallible.

Here is a quote from the book which offers some support to what I think is a better way to think about Scripture - the way that Scripture has been traditionally viewed throughout the history of the Church before the recent American debates came along:

"Because Christianity is an historical religion based on the real incarnation of God in time and space, the Catholic and Orthodox churches do not accept a fundamentalist reading of the Bible.  Scripture mediates God's word in the most privileged way. It is the written record of God's living voice and a constant source for the church not only of life and consolation but also of challenge and rebuke. But the written text cannot simply be identified in a simplistic way with the Word as such, any more than the flesh of Christ may be simplistically described as 'God' in an absolute sense: by analogy with Christ's humanity, human words are joined to the Word and become transparent to the divine."  (p. 65)

Luther's view of Scripture as being like a cradle that holds Christ would seem to be consistent with this approach, which is beholden to neither fundamentalism nor modern skepticism.  Instead of aligning himself with modern American Protestants at either end of the spectrum, then, I think Luther would by sympathetic with this sentiment from the 20th century Benedictine theologian, Dom Odo Casel (quoted in the book at page 63):

"The fathers, with the light of faith to guide them, saw everywhere - in the law, the prophets, the acts of Old Testament kings and saints, here more clearly, there less - the figure of Jesus, glowing in the half-darkness, until it emerges in the gospel's brightness.  What the ancients gradually and wearily came to was as clear as the noonday when the world's own light shone: the keys to all mysteries were in Christ; when this unfailing instrument, the key of David, is put to the explaining of Scripture, the whole beauty, depth, and clarity of Christian allegory is seen for what it really is in the liturgy.  Its heart is the redeeming work of Christ and everything we read and pray in these texts points to that."

The Origins of Lutheran Monks

Now that our family has returned from our vacation, described in my posts on Mountain Spirituality, I will soon resume the virtual tour of Lutheran monasteries.  In the meantime, I came across a brief historical note on a blog called "The Conciliar Anglican" about the origins of Lutheran monasticism.

The blog article is entitled "Ask an Anglican: What is Anglican Monasticism?" but it contains the following information about the history of Lutheran monks:

"[B]y the fifteenth century there were a large number of unofficial monastic movements. The most famous of these is the Devotio Moderna (literally ‘the Modern Devotion’, but also translatable as ‘the Modern-Day Devout’). The Devotio Moderna was primarily expressed in the Brethren of the Common Life. . . . 

For reasons that I know little about, the Roman Catholic church formally banned the Brethren of the Common Life at the Council of Trent. They lived on, however, in Lutheran lands until the nineteenth century. Martin Luther had a soft spot for them—no doubt because so much of their work consisted in educating the young, which Luther was a strong proponent of. Contrary to what is popularly assumed, the Lutherans did not formally ban monasticism; several Benedictine houses joined the Lutheran movement in the sixteenth century and still today there are Lutheran monasteries and convents. Although the Lutheran confessions were sharply critical of sixteenth-century monastic practice, they never formally rejected monasticism. I do not write this to argue that Lutheranism was somehow ‘more Catholic’ than later Protestant groups. Rather, I write this as a matter of fact: the Brethren of the Common Life were, together with the Lutheran Benedictines, part of the Lutheran tradition from pretty much the beginning."

The entire article can be read here: http://conciliaranglican.com/2013/07/08/ask-an-anglican-what-is-anglican-monasticism/

The Two Luthers

In my recent post entitled "The Spirituality of Silence", I included a quote from Luther which lampooned the monastic practice of silence.  I found that quote by looking through the index to Luther's Works for references to St. Benedict and monasticism, and I think I can safely say that the quote I included is a fairly typical remark from Luther on monasticism.   

For some time, I have been perplexed while reading Luther.  Since Lutherans like to refer to dichotomies (such as Law and Gospel), I use a dichotomy to help myself deal with Luther's writings.  It seems that Luther wrote from one of two viewpoints - the "Catholic Luther" or the "Scorned Luther".

The "Catholic Luther" is the Luther who wrote beautiful devotional pieces (e.g., the Commentary on the Magnificat) and catechisms that got right to the heart of the faith (e.g., the classic Small Catechism). These works by Luther expressed the faith of the Church, using the particularly Lutheran emphasis on what Christ has done for us, instead of on what we do for Christ.

Then, there is the "Scorned Luther" - when he was rejected, it seems as if he went beyond critique with the intent to reform, and degenerated into polemics and mockery.  This led him at times to throw the proverbial baby out with the bath water, in my opinion.  There are many examples - the Luther who was a monk became a fierce critic of monasticism.  The Luther who celebrated the mass began to call the Catholic mass an abomination. The Luther who reached out in a friendly way to the Jews became the Luther who wrote "On the Jews and Their Lies." 

As a Lutheran pastor, I am only bound to Luther's writings and beliefs to the extent that they are found in the Book of Concord.  Fortunately, Luther's writings that were included in the Book of Concord mostly fall into the "Catholic Luther" category (I use the word "mostly" becomes sometimes the Scorned Luther comes out - in the Smalcald Articles, for example).

Luther was brilliant but tormented, as well as faithful but flawed.   At times, it seems as if Lutherans cite his works as the definitive authority on a subject.  In the spirit of the "Catholic Luther", I would rather view his writings through the lens of the faith of the Church throughout the ages, instead of being the final word on what the Church has to say on any given subject.

Luther and the Catholic Church

In the comments responding to my post on "Evangelical Catholic" Lutheranism, there was some discussion pertaining to Luther's relationship to the Catholic Church. I started to write a response in the comments, but thought it might be better to have a separate post on the subject.

To begin, instead of debating whether Luther was "kicked out" of the Catholic Church or not, I think we should simply use the proper term for what happened - he was excommunicated when he did not recant within the sixty day time period set forth in the papal bull Exsurge Domine (1520). 

Whether or not he should have been excommunicated is a subject of sometimes interesting, sometimes banal, debates between religious historians and apologists for both sides.  What I personally find more helpful is the attitude of Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI, who in their public addresses regarding Luther have acknowledged his genuine zeal for the Gospel, the historical complexity of the Reformation, and the fact that the actions of both sides caused the rift. For example, see the address of Benedict XVI to a group of Lutherans at the Augustinian monastery in Erfurt where Luther was a monk, which can be read here:

 http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/benedict_xvi/speeches/2011/september/documents/hf_ben-xvi_spe_20110923_evangelical-church-erfurt_en.html

In doing so, John Paul II and Benedict XVI honored the way of St. Benedict by seeing Christ in another.

Sometimes when I am scanning through radio stations, I stop and listen to EWTN, and when I periodically hear the apologists there castigate Luther (contrary to the spirit of what John Paul II and Benedict XVI have said), I get a feeling of regret  - specifically, that they are missing an opportunity to enlist Luther as an ally.  Luther's adamant belief in the real presence of the body and blood of Christ in the Eucharist, devotion to Mary and the saints, support of infant baptism, etc., are all examples of his defense of the Catholic faith against more radical reformers.

Of course, there were very real disputes which should not be ignored. But, since Vatican II, the Lutheran-Catholic ecumenical dialogues have meticulously analyzed the beliefs of our respective communions, and have found agreement in many areas where it was previously believed there was division. In the spirit of St. Benedict, I hope that we continue to pray together and see Christ in each other.