Let us, moreover, remind ourselves once more that, to measure the social proprieties of the sixteenth century by modern standards, is unfair. A degree of culture in regard to manners and speech can be reached by very refined people that grows away from naturalness. The old Latin saying: Naturalia non sunt turpia (We need not feel ashamed of our natural acts), will never lose its force. There are expressions in Luther's writings—and in the Bible—that nowadays are considered unchaste, but are in themselves chaste and pure. Even the extremest naturalness that speaks with brutal frankness about certain matters is a better criterion of moral purity than the supersensitive prudishness that squirms and blushes, or pretends to blush, at the remotest reference to such matters. It all depends on the thoughts which the heart connects with the words which the mouth utters. This applies also to the manner in which former centuries have spoken about drinking. We sometimes begin to move uneasily, as if something Pecksniffian had come into our presence, when we behold the twentieth century sitting in judgment on the manners and morals of the sixteenth century.

In Luther's remarks about sinning to spite the devil we have always heard an echo from his life at the cloister. One's judgment about the monastic life is somewhat mitigated when one hears how Dr. Staupitz and the brethren in the convent at Erfurt would occasionally speak to Luther about the latter's sins. Staupitz called them "Puppensuenden." It is not easy to render this term by a short and apt English term; "peccadillo" would come near the meaning. A child playing with a doll will treat it as if it were a human being, will dress it, talk to it, and pretend to receive answers from it, etc. That is the way, good Catholics were telling Luther, he was treating his sins. His sins were no real sins, or he had magnified their sinfulness out of all proportion. This same advice Luther hands on to another who was becoming a hypochondriac as he had been. When the mind is in a morbid state it imagines faults, errors, sins, where there are none. The melancholy person in his self-scrutiny becomes an intolerant tyrant to himself. He will flay his poor soul for trifles as if they were the blackest crimes: In such moments the devil is very busy about the victim of gloom and despair. Luther has diagnosed the case of Weller with the skill of a nervous specialist. He counsels Weller not to judge himself according to the devil's prompting, and, in order to break Satan's thrall over him, to wrench himself free from his false notions of what is sinful. In offering this advice, Luther uses such expressions as: "Sin, commit sin," but the whole context shows that he advises Weller to do that which is in itself not sinful, but looks like sin to Weller in his present condition. When Luther declares he would like to commit a real brave sin himself as a taunt to the devil, he adds: "Would that I could!" That means, that, as a matter of fact, he could not do it and did not do it, because it was wrong. What bold immoral act did Weller commit in consequence of Luther's advice? What immoralities are there in Luther's own life? Luther's letters did not convey the meaning to his morbid young friend that Catholic writers think and claim they did.

Luther's advice to Melanchthon which is so revolting to Catholics that they have made it the slogan in their campaign against Luther refers to a state of affairs that is identical with what we noted in our review of the correspondence with Weller. It is contained in a letter which Luther wrote August 1, 1521, while he was an exile in the Wartburg. He says to his despondent friend and colleague at the University of Wittenberg: "If you are a preacher of grace, do not preach a fictitious, but the true grace. If grace is of the true sort, you will also have to bear true, not fictitious, sins. God does not save those who only acknowledge themselves sinners in a feigned manner. Be a sinner, then, and sin bravely, but believe more bravely still and rejoice in Christ, who is the Victor over sin, death, and the world. We must sin as long as we are in this world; the present life is not an abode of righteousness; however, we look for new heavens and a new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness, says Peter (2. Ep. 3, 13). We are satisfied, by the richness of God's glory, to have come to the knowledge of the Lamb that taketh away the sins of the world. No sin shall wrest us from Him, were we even in one day to commit fornication and manslaughter a thousand times. Do you think the price paltry and the payment small that has been made for us by this great Lamb?" (15, 2589.)

"Be a sinner, and sin bravely, but believe more bravely still"—this is the chef d'oeuvre of the muck-rakers in Luther's life. The reader has the entire passage which contains the outrageous statement of Luther before him, and will be able to judge the connection in which the words occur. What caused Luther to write those words? Did Melanchthon contemplate some crime which he was too timid to perpetrate? According to the horrified expressions of Catholics that must have been the situation. Luther, in their view, says to Melanchthon: Philip, you are a simpleton. Why scruple about a sin? You are still confined in the trammels of very narrow-minded moral views. You must get rid of them. Have the courage to be wicked, Make a hero of yourself by executing some bold piece of iniquity. Be an "Uebermensch." Sin with brazen unconcern; be a fornicator, a murderer, a liar, a thief, defy every moral statute, —only do not forget to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. His grace is intended, not for hesitating, craven sinners, but for audacious, spirited, high-minded criminals.

This, we are asked to believe, is the sentiment of the same Luther who in his correspondence with Weller declares that he could not if he would commit a brave sin to spite the devil. Can the reader induce himself to believe that Luther advised Melanchthon to do what he himself knew was a moral impossibility to himself because of his relation to God? And again we put the question which we put in connection with the Weller letters: What brave sin did Melanchthon actually commit upon being thus advised by Luther?

One glance at the context, a calm reflection upon the tenor of this entire passage in the letter to Melanchthon, suffices to convince every unbiased reader that Luther is concerned about Melanchthon as he was about Weller: he fears his young colleague is becoming a prey to morbid self-incrimination. It is again a case of "Puppensuenden" being expanded till they seem ethical monstrosities. But, as the opening words of the paragraph show, Luther had another purpose in writing to Melanchthon as he did. Melanchthon was a public preacher and expounder of the doctrine of evangelical grace. He must not preach that doctrine mincingly, haltingly. Is that possible? Indeed, it is. Just as there are preachers afraid to preach the divine Law and to tell men that they are under the curse of God and merit damnation, so there are preachers afraid, actually afraid, to preach the full Gospel, without any limiting clauses and provisos. Just as there are teachers of Christianity who promptly put on the soft pedal when they reach the critical point in their public deliverances where they must reprove sin, and who hate intensive preaching of the Ten Commandments, so there are evangelical teachers who dole out Gospel grace in dribbles and homeopathic doses, as if it were the most virulent poison, of which the sinner must not be given too much. Luther tells Melanchthon: If you are afraid to draw every stop in the organ when you play the tune of Love Divine, All Love Excelling, you had better quit the organ. There are some sinners in this world that will not understand your faint evangelical whispers; they need to have the truth that Christ forgives their sins, all their sins,—their worst sins, blown into them with all the trumpets that made the walls of Jericho fall. If Melanchthon did not require a strong faith in the forgiving grace of God for himself, he needed it as a teacher of that grace to others; he must, therefore, familiarize himself with the immensity and power of that grace.

In conclusion, it should be noted that the Catholic writers who express their extreme disgust at the immoral principles of Luther belong to a Church whose theologians have made very questionable distinctions between venial sins and others. Papal dispensations and decisions of Catholic casuists, especially in the order of the Jesuits, have startled the world by their moral perverseness. Yea, the very principles of probabilism and mental reservation which the Jesuits have espoused are antiethical. In accordance with the principle last named, "when important interests are at stake, a negative or modifying clause may remain unuttered which would completely reverse the statement actually made. This principle justified unlimited lying when one's interest or convenience seemed to require it. Where the same word or phrase has more than one sense, it may be employed in an unusual sense with the expectation that it will be understood in the usual. [This is called "amphibology" by them.] Such evasions may be used under oath in a civil court. Equally destructive of good morals was the teaching of many Jesuit casuists that moral obligation may be evaded by directing the intention when committing an immoral act to an end worthy in itself; as in murder, to the vindication of one's honor; in theft, to the supplying of one's needs or those of the poor; in fornication or adultery, to the maintenance of one's health or comfort. Nothing did more to bring upon the society the fear and distrust of the nations and of individuals than the justification and recommendation by several of their writers of the assassination of tyrants, the term 'tyrant' being made to include all persons in authority who oppose the work of the papal church or order. The question has been much discussed, Jesuits always taking the negative side, whether the Jesuits have taught that 'the end justifies the means.' It may not be possible to find this maxim in these precise words in Jesuit writings; but that they have always taught that for the 'greater glory of God,' identified by them with the extension of Roman Catholic (Jesuit) influence, the principles of ordinary morality may be set aside, seems certain. The doctrine of philosophical sin, in accordance with which actual attention to the sinfulness of an act when it is being committed is requisite to its sinfulness for the person committing it, was widely advocated by members of the society. The repudiation of some of the most scandalous maxims of Jesuit writers by later writers, or the placing of books containing scandalous maxims on the Index, does not relieve the society or the Roman Catholic Church from responsibility, as such books must have received authoritative approval before publication, and the censuring of them does not necessarily involve an adverse attitude toward the teaching itself, but way be a more measure of expediency." (A. H. Newman, in New Schaff-Herzog Encycl., 6, 146.)

18. Luther, Repudiates the Ten Commandments?

In Luther's correspondence with Weller there occurs a remark to the effect that Weller must put the Decalog out of his mind. Similar statements occur in great number throughout Luther's writings. In some of these statements Luther speaks in terms of deep scorn and contempt of the Law, and considers it the greatest affront that can be offered Christians to place them under the Law of Moses. He declares that Moses must be regarded by Christians as if he were a heretic, excommunicated by the Church, and assigns him to the gallows. Some of the strongest invectives of this kind are found in his exposition of the Epistle to the Galatians. These stern utterances of Luther against the Law serve the Catholics as the basis for their charge that Luther is the most destructive spirit that has arisen within the Church. He is said to have destroyed the only perfect norm of right and wrong by his violent onslaughts on Moses. Once the commandments of God are abrogated, the feeling of duty and responsibility, they argue, is plucked from the hearts of men, and license and vice rush in upon the world with the force of a springtide.

The reader will remember what has been said in a previous chapter about Luther's labors to expound and apply the divine Law, also about the intimate and loving relation which he maintained to the Ten Commandments to the end of his life. Luther has spoken of Moses as a teacher of true holiness in terms of unbounded admiration and praise. Ho declares the writings of Moses the principal part of our Bible, because all the prophets and apostles have drawn their teaching from Moses and have expanded the teaching of Moses. Christ Himself has appealed to Moses as an authority in matters of religion. The greatest distinction of Moses in Luther's view is that he has prophesied concerning Christ, and by revealing the people's sin through the teaching of the Law has made them see and feel the necessity of a redemption through the Mediator. However, also the laws of Moses are exceedingly fine, Luther thinks. The Ten Commandments are essentially the natural moral law implanted in the hearts of man. But also his forensic laws, his civil statutes, his ecclesiastical ordinances, his regulations regarding the hygiene, and the public order that must be maintained in a great commonwealth, are wise and salutary. The Catholics are forced to admit that alongside of the open contempt which Luther occasionally voices for Moses and the Mosaic righteousness inculcated by the Law there runs a cordial esteem of the great prophet. Luther regards the Law of Moses as divine; it is to him just as much the Word of God as any other portion of the Scriptures. To save their faces in a debate they must concede this point, but they charge Luther with being a most disorderly reasoner, driven about in his public utterances by momentary impulses: He will set up a rule to-day which he knocks down to-morrow. He will cite the same Principle for or against a matter. He is so erratic that he can be adduced as authority by both sides to a controversy. The Catholic may succeed with certain people in getting rid of Luther on the claim that his is a confused mind, and that in weighty affairs he adopts the policy of the opportunist. Most men will demand a better explanation of the seeming self-contradiction in Luther's attitude toward the divine Law.

There is only one connection in which Luther speaks disparagingly of the Law, and we shall show that what he says is no real disparagement, but the correct Scriptural valuation of the Law. Luther holds that the Ten Commandments do not save any person nor contribute the least part to his salvation. They must be entirely left out of account when such questions are to be answered as these: How do I obtain a gracious God? How is my sin to be forgiven? How do I obtain a good conscience? How can I come to I live righteously? How can I hope to die calmly, in the confidence that I am going to heaven? On such occasions Luther says: Turn your eyes away from Moses and his Law; he cannot help you; you apply at the wrong office when you come to him for rest for your soul here and hereafter. He gives you no comfort, and he cannot, because it is not his function to do so. It is Another's business to do that. Him you grossly dishonor and traduce when you refuse to come to Him for what He alone can give, and when you go to some one who does not give you what you need, though you pretend that you get it from this other. A proper relation to God is established for us only by Jesus Christ. He is the exclusive Mediator appointed by God for His dealing with man and for man in his dealings with God. There is salvation in none other; nor can our hope of heaven be placed on any other foundation than that which God laid when He appointed Christ our Redeemer (Acts 4, 12; 1 Cor. 3, 11).

This is Bible-doctrine. "The Law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ," says John (chap. 1, 17). Here the two fundamental teachings of the Scriptures are strictly set apart the one from the other. They have much in common: they have the same holy Author, God; their contents are holy; they serve holy ends. But they are differently related to sinful man: the Law tells man what he must do, the Gospel, what Christ has done for him; the Law issues demands, the Gospel, gratuitous offers; the Law holds out rewards for merits or severe penalties, the Gospel, free and unconditioned gifts; the Law terrifies, the Gospel cheers the sinner; the Law turns the sinner against God by proving to him his incapacity to practise it, the Gospel draws the sinner to God and makes him a willing servant of God.

Paul demands of the Christian minister that he "rightly divide the Word of Truth" (2 Tim. 2, 15). To preach the Bible-doctrine of salvation aright and with salutary effect, the Law and the Gospel must be kept apart as far as East is from the West. The Law is truth, but, it is not the truth that saves, because it knows of no grace for the breakers of the Law. The Gospel teaches holiness and righteousness, however, not such as the sinner achieves by his own effort, but such as has been achieved for the sinner by his Substitute, Jesus Christ. The Gospel is not for men who imagine that they can do the commandments of God; Jesus Christ says: "I came not to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance" (Matt. 9, 13). On the other hand, the Law is not for sinners who know themselves saved. "The Law is not made for a righteous man" (1 Tim. 1, 9). Christians employ the Law for the regulation of their lives, as a pattern and index of holy works which are pleasing to God and as a deterrent from evil works, but they do not seek their salvation, neither wholly nor in part, in the Law, nor do they look to the Law for strength to do the will of God. Moreover Christians, while they are still in the flesh, apply the Law to the old Adam in themselves; they bruise the flesh with its deceitful lusts with the scourge of Moses, and thus they are in a sense under the Law, and can never be without the Law while they live. But in another sense they are not under the Law: all their life is determined by divine grace; their faith, their hope, their charity, is entirely from the Gospel, and the new man in them acknowledges no master except Jesus Christ, who is all in all to them (Eph. 1, 23).

When Luther directed men for their salvation away from the Law, he did what Christ Himself had done when He called to the multitudes: "Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest" (Matt. 11, 28). The people to whom these words were addressed had the Law of Moses and wearied themselves with its fulfilment, such as it was under the direction of teachers and guides who had misinterpreted and were misapplying that Law continually. Even in that false view of the Law which they had been taught, and which did not at all exhaust its meaning, there was no ease of conscience, no assurance of divine favor, no rest for their souls. Christ with His gracious summons told them, in effect: You must forget the Law and the ordinances of your elders and your miserable works of legal service. You must turn your back upon Moses. In Me, only in Me, is your help.

Moses himself never conceived his mission to be what the Catholics declare it to be by their doctrine of salvation by faith plus works. Moses directed his people to the greater Prophet who was to come in the future, and told them: "Unto Him shall ye hearken" (Deut. 18, 15). Jesus was pointed out to the world as that Prophet of whom Moses had spoken, when the Father at the baptism and the transfiguration of Christ repeated from heaven the warning cry of Israel's greatest teacher under the old dispensation (Matt. 3, 17; 17, 5).

But was it necessary, in speaking of the inability of the Law to save men, to use such strong and contemptuous terms as Luther has used? Yes. The Catholics do not seen to know in what strong terms the Bible has rejected the Law as a means of salvation. Paul denounces the Galatians again and again as "foolish," "bewitched," and bastards of a bondwoman, because they think they will be saved by their works done according to the Law (chap. 3, 1. 3; 4, 21 ff.). He calls them godless infidels, slaves, silly children still in their nonage, because they imagine that they become acceptable to God by their own righteousness (chap. 4, 9; 3, 23 ff.). Yea, he reprobates their legal service when he says: "As many as are of the works of the Law are under the curse" (chap. 3, 10). How contemptuous does it not sound to hear him call the legal ordinances which the Galatians were observing "beggarly elements" (chap. 4, 9), and the law a "schoolmaster" (chap. 3, 24), that is, a tutor fit only for little abecedarians who cannot be treated as full-grown persons that are able to make a right use of their privileges as children and heirs of God. Why do not the Catholics turn up their nose at Paul, as they do at Luther, when Paul calls all his legal righteousness "dung" (Phil. 2, 8), or when he speaks slightingly of the observance on which the Colossians prided themselves as "rudiments of the world" (Col. 2, 20)? Why does he call the Law "the handwriting of ordinances that has been blotted out" (Col. 2, 14) but to declare to the Colossians that they are to fear the Law as little as a debtor fears a canceled note that had been drawn against him? What was it that Paul rebuked Peter for when he told him that he was building again the things which they both had destroyed (Gal. 2, 18)? Mark you, he says, "destroyed." Why, it was this very thing for which Luther is faulted by Rome, the Law as an instrument for obtaining righteousness before God. Could a person renounce the Law in more determined, one might almost say, ruthless fashion, than by saying: "I am dead to the Law, that I might live unto God"? Paul is the person who thus speaks of the Law (Gal. 2, 19). The Catholics have again taken hold of the wrong man when they assail Luther for repudiating the Law of God; they must start higher up; they will find the real culprit whom they are trying to prosecute among the holy apostles. Yea, even the apostles will decline the honor of being the original criminals, they will pass the charges preferred against them higher up still; for what contemptuous terms were used by them in speaking of the Law were inspired terms which they received from God the Holy Ghost. That contempt for the Law which Luther voices under very particular circumstances Luther has learned from his Bible and under the guidance of the Holy Ghost.

That contempt is a mark of every evangelical preacher to-day. If ministers of the Gospel to-day do not denounce the Law when falsely applied, they betray a sacred trust and become traitors to Christ and the Church. For every one who teaches men to seek their salvation in any manner and to any degree in their own works serves not Christ, but Antichrist. This is such a fearful calamity that no terms should be regarded as too scathing in which to rebuke legalistic tendencies. These tendencies are the bane and blight of Christianity; if they are not rooted out, Christianity will perish from off the face of the earth. Workmongers are missionaries of the father of lies and the murderer from the beginning: so far as in them lies, they slay the souls of men by their false teaching of the Law.

However, Luther reveals another attitude toward the Law. At three distinct times in his public career he had to do with people who had assumed a hostile attitude to the Law of God. If the contention of Luther's Catholic critics were true, Luther ought to have hailed these occasions with delight and made common cause with the repudiators of the Law. While he was at the Wartburg, a disturbance broke out at Wittenberg. Under the leadership of Carlstadt, a professor at the University, men broke into the churches and smashed images. Church ordinances of age-long standing were to be abrogated, the cloisters were to be thrown open, and a new order of things was to be inaugurated by violence. Against the will of the Elector of Saxony, who had afforded Luther an asylum in his castle, Luther, at the risk of his life, came out of his seclusion, boldly went to Wittenberg, and preached a series of sermons by which he quelled the riotous uprising. Even before his return to Wittenberg he had published a treatise in which he warned Christians to avoid tumult and violent proceedings. The eight sermons which he preached to the excited people of Wittenberg are an invaluable evidence that Luther meant to proceed in the way of order. The mass and the confessional would have been abolished at that time, had it not been for Luther's interference. He made some lifelong enemies by insisting that the reformatory movement must be conservative. He held that before men's consciences had been liberated by the teaching of Christ, they were not qualified for exercising true Christian liberty, and their violent proceedings were nothing but carnal license. Everybody knows how deeply Luther himself was interested in the abolition of the idolatrous Mass and the spiritual peonage which Rome had created for men by means of the confessional. Only a person who puts principles above policies could have acted as Luther did in those turbulent days. He wanted for his followers, not wanton rebels and frenzied enthusiasts, but men who respect the Word of Cod, discreet and gentle men whose weapons of warfare were not carnal. A man who is so cautious as not to approve the putting down of acknowledged evils because he is convinced that the attempt is premature and exceeds the limits of propriety, will not lend his hand to abolishing the divine norm of right, the holy commandments of God.

The second occasion on which Luther in a most impressive manner showed his profound regard for the maintenance of human and divine laws was during the bloody uprising of the peasants. While thoroughly in sympathy with the rebellious peasants in their righteous grievances against their secular and spiritual oppressors, the barons and the bishops, and pleading the peasants' cause in its just demands before their lords, he unflinchingly rebuked their extreme demands and their still extremer actions. If by his preaching of the Gospel Luther had been the instigator of the peasants' uprising, what a brazen hypocrite he must have been in denouncing acts which he must have acknowledged to be fruits of his teaching! Among the noblemen of Germany Luther counted not a few frank admirers and staunch supporters of his reformatory work. Their influence was of the highest value to him in those critical days when his own life was not safe. Yet he rebuked the sins of the high and mighty, their avarice and insolence, which had brought on this terrible disturbance. In his writings dealing with this sad conflict Luther impresses one like one of the ancient prophets who stand like a rock amid the raging billows of popular passions and with even-handed justice deliver the oracles of God to high and low, calling upon all to bow before the supreme will of the righteous Lawgiver. Would the great lords of the land have meekly taken Luther's rebuke if they had been able to charge Luther with being an accessory to the peasants' crimes?

The third occasion on which Luther's innocence of the charges of Romanists that he was an instigator of lawlessness was most effectually vindicated was the Antinomian controversy. This episode, more than any other, embittered the life of the aging Reformer. The Antinomians drew from the evangelical teachings those disastrous consequences which the Catholics impute to Luther: they claimed that the Law is not in any way applicable to Christians. They insisted that the Ten Commandments must not be preached to Christians at all. Christians, they claimed, determine in the exercise of their sovereign liberty what they may or may not do. Being under grace, they are superior to the Law and a law unto themselves. At first Luther had been inclined to treat this error mildly, because it seemed incredible to him that enlightened children of God could so fatally misread the teaching of God's Word. He thought the Antinomians were either misunderstood by people who had no conception of the Gospel and of evangelical liberty, or they were grossly slandered by persons ill-disposed to them because of their successful preaching of the Gospel. When their error had been established beyond a doubt, he did not hesitate a moment to attack it. In sermons and public disputations, before the common people of Wittenberg and the learned doctors and the students of the University, he defended the holy Law of God as the norm of right conduct and the mirror showing up the sinfulness of man also for Christians, and he insisted that those who had fallen into this error must publicly recant. It was due to Luther's unrelenting opposition that Agricola, one of the leaders of the Antinomians and at one time a dear friend of Luther, withdrew his false teaching and offered apologies in a published discourse. To his guests Luther in those days remarked at the table: "Satan, like a furious harlot, rages in the Antinomians, as Melanchthon writes from Frankfort. The devil will do much harm through them and cause infinite and vexatious evils. If they carry their lawless principles into the State as well as the Church, the magistrate will say: I am a Christian, therefore the law does not pertain to me. Even a Christian hangman would repudiate the law. If they teach only free grace, infinite license will follow, and all discipline will be at an end." (Preserved Smith, p. 283.) Luther held that forbidding the preaching of the Law meant to prohibit preaching God's truth (20, 1635), and to abrogate the Law he regarded as tantamount to abrogating the Gospel (22, 1029).

Far from repudiating the Ten Commandments, then, Luther, by insisting on a distinction between Law and Gospel, and assigning to each a separate sphere of operation in the lives of Christians, has done more than any other teacher in the Church since the days of Paul to impress men with a sincere respect of the Law, and to honor it by obedience to its precepts.

19. Luther's Invisible Church.

In his Theses against the sale of indulgences, especially in the first two, Luther had uttered a thought which led to a new conception of the Church. He had declared that Christian life does not consist in the performance of certain works of piety, such as going to confession, performing the penances imposed by priests, hearing Mass, etc.,—all of which are external, visible acts,—but in a continuous penitential relation of the heart to God. The Christian, conscious of his innate corruption and his daily sinning, faces God at all times in the attitude of a humble suitor for mercy. The posture of the publican is the typical attitude of the Christian. He recognizes no merit in himself, he pleads no worthiness which would give him a just claim upon God's favor. His single hope and sole reliance is in the merit and atoning work of his Savior Jesus Christ. The Christian's penitence embraces as a constituent element faith in the forgiveness of sin for Christ's sake. In the strength of his faith the Christian begins to wrestle with the sin which is still indwelling in him and which besets him from without. The agony of the Redeemer which he places before his eyes at all times proves a deterrent from sin, and the holy example of Jesus, who ran with rejoicing the way of the commandments of God, becomes an inspiring example to him: actuated by gratitude for the love of the Son of God who gave Himself for him and reclaimed him from certain perdition, he begins to reproduce the life of Jesus in his own conversation. His whole life is determined by his relation to Jesus: his thoughts, affections, words, and deeds are a reflex of the life of his Lord. For him to live is Christ (Phil. 1, 21). All his acts become expressions of his faith. He says with Paul: "I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me" (Gal. 2, 20).

During the discussions which followed the publication of the Theses, especially during the Leipzig Debate with Eck in 1519, this thought of Luther was expanded, and applied to the idea of the Church. Christianity, in Luther's teaching, came to be set forth as something vastly different from the external and mechanical religiousness which had been accepted as Christianity by Rome. Christianity meant a new life, swayed by new motives, governed by new principles. It was seen to be entirely inward, an affair of the heart and soul and mind, and, ulteriorly, an affair of the body and the natural life. The religion of Rome, with its constant emphasis on works of men's piety and the merit resulting therefrom, had become thoroughgoing externalism. So many prayers recited, so many altars visited, so many offerings made, meant so many merits achieved. The scheme worked out with mathematical precision. Devout Catholics might well keep a ledger of their devotional acts, as Gustav Freitag in his Ancestors represents Marcus Koenig as having done.

In the Catholic view the Church is a visible society, an ecclesiastical organization with a supreme officer at the head, and a host of subordinate officers who receive their orders from him, and lastly, a lay membership that acknowledges the rule of this organization. The Church in this view is a religious commonwealth, only in form and operation differing from secular commonwealths. Cardinal Gibbons calls it "the Christian Republic." In Luther's view the Church is, first of all, an invisible society, known to God, the Searcher of hearts, alone. The Church of Christ is the sum-total of believers scattered through the whole world and existing in all ages. To this Church we refer when we profess in the Apostles' Creed: "I believe one holy, Christian Church, the communion of saints." This is the Church, the real Church, the Church which God acknowledges as the spiritual body of Christ, who is the Head of the Church, and with which He maintains the most intimate and tender relations.

This invisible Church exists within the visible societies of organized Christianity, in the local Christian congregations. Christian faith is never independent of the means which God has appointed for producing faith, the Gospel and the Sacraments. "Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God" (Rom. 10, 17). This faith-creating word of evangelical grace is an audible and visible matter. Its presence in any locality is cognizable by the senses. It becomes attached, moreover, by Christ's ordaining, to certain visible elements, as the water in Baptism and the bread and wine in the Lord's Supper. Hence these two Christian ordinances—the only two for which a divine word of command and promise, hence, a divine institution can be shown—also become related to faith, to its origin and preservation. For of Baptism our Lord says: "Except a man be born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God" (John 3, 5). To be "born again," or to become a child of God, according to John 1, 12, is the same as "to believe." Accordingly, Paul says: "Ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus. For as many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ" (Gal. 3, 26. 27). Of the Sacrament our Lord says: "This is the blood of the covenant which is shed for many for the remission of sins" (Matt. 26, 28); and His apostle declares that communicants, "as often as they eat of this bread and drink of this cup, do show the Lord's death till He come" (1 Cor. 11, 26).

The Gospel and the Sacraments, now, become the marks of the Church, the unfailing criteria of its existence in any place. For, according to the declaration of God, they are never entirely without result, though many to whom they are brought resist the gracious operation of the Spirit through these means. By Isaiah God has said: "As the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the eater: so shall My Word be that goeth forth out of My mouth: it shall not return unto Me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it" (Is. 55, 10. 11).

Among the people who in a given locality rally around the Word and the Sacraments and profess allegiance to them, there is the Church, because there is the power of God unto salvation, the faith-producing and faith-sustaining Gospel of Jesus Christ. Those who embrace what the Gospel offers with a lively faith, and in the power of their faith proceed to lead holy lives in accordance with the teaching of God's Word, are the members of the true Church of God, the kingdom of Christ. Those who adhere only externally to these institutions are merely nominal members. They may at heart be hypocrites and secret blasphemers.

Catholic writers charge Luther with having set up this teaching, partly to spite the Pope whom he hated, partly to gratify his vainglorious aspirations to become famous. He had at one time held the Catholic dogma that the Church is the visible society of men who profess allegiance to the Bishop of Rome and accept his overlordship in matters of their religion. But through neglect of his religious duties and the failure to bridle his imperious temper he had by degrees begun to revolt from the teaching of the Catholic Church, until he publicly renounced the Church that had existed in all the ages before him, and set up his own Church. By forsaking the communion of the Roman church organization he severed his soul from Christ and became an apostate. For, according to Catholic belief, Christ founded the Church to be a visible organization with a visible head, the Pope, and plainly and palpably "governing" men.

Everybody who has read the records of Luther's work knows that no thought was more foreign to his mind than that of founding a new church. He believed himself in hearty accord with the Catholic Church and the Pope when he published his Theses. He did not wantonly leave the Church, but was driven from it by most ruthless measures. It was while he was defending the principles which he had first uttered against Tetzel that his eyes were opened to the appalling defection which had occurred in the Catholic Church from every true conception of what the Church really is. His appeals to the Word of God were answered by appeals to the Church, the councils of the Church, the Pope. In his unsophisticated mind Luther held that Church, councils, and Pope are all subject to Christ, the Head of the Church. They cannot teach and decree anything but what Christ has taught and ordained. It is only by abiding in the words of Christ that men become and remain the true disciples of Christ, hence, His Church (John 8, 31). Now, he was told that Christ had erected the visible organization of the Catholic Church with the Pope at its head into the Church, and had handed over all authority to this society, with the understanding that there can be no appeal from this body to Christ Himself. Salvation is only by submitting to the rule of this society, adopting its ways, following its precepts. From this teaching Luther recoiled with horror, and rightly so.

At one time God had erected a theocracy on earth, a Church which was a visible society, and for which He had made special laws and ordinances. The Church of the Old Covenant is the only visible Church which God created. But even in this Church He declared that external compliance with its ways did not constitute any one a true member of His Church. He told the Jews by Isaiah: "To this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at My Word. He that killeth an ox is as if he slew a man; he that sacrificeth a lamb, as if he cut off a dog's neck; he that offereth an oblation as if he offered swine's blood; he that burneth incense, as if he blessed an idol" (chap. 66, 2. 8). Here God abominates the mere external performance of acts of worship as an outrage and a crime that is perpetrated against His holy name. Repeating a saying of this same prophet, our Lord said to the members of the Jewish Church in His day: "Ye hypocrites, well did Isaiah prophesy of you, saying, This people draweth nigh unto Me with their mouth, and honoreth Me with their lips; but their heart is far from Me. But in vain do they worship Me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men" (Matt. 15, 7-9). The Pharisees in the days of Christ are the true ancestors of Catholics in their belief that the Church is a great, powerful, visible organization in this world, subject to the supreme will of a visible ruler, and capable of being employed in great worldly enterprises like a political machine. The Pharisees were always looking for the establishment of a mighty church organization which would dominate the world. They expected the Messiah to inaugurate a Church of this kind. With this ambitious thought in their heart they approached Christ on a certain occasion and asked Him "when the kingdom of God should come. He answered them and said, The kingdom of God cometh not with observation; neither shall they say, Lo, here! or, Lo, there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you" (Luke 17, 20. 21). To the same effect Paul declares "He is not a Jew which is one outwardly, neither is that circumcision which is outward in the flesh; but he is a Jew which is one inwardly; and circumcision is that of the heart, in the spirit, and not in the letter" (Rom. 2, 28. 29). And to a young pastor whom he had trained for work in the Church, he describes the Church as follows: "The foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are His. And, Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity" (2 Tim. 2, 19).

By making the Gospel the mark of the Church and faith the Gospel the badge of membership in the Church Luther has rendered an incalculable service to Christianity. This view of the Church shows the immense importance of a live, intelligent, and active personal faith. It puts a ban on religious indifference and mechanical worship. It destroys formalism, ceremonialism, Pharisaism in the affairs of religion. Justly Luther has ridiculed the implicit, or blind, faith of Catholics, when he writes: "The papists say that they believe what the Church believes, just as it is being related of the Poles that they say: I believe what my king believes. Indeed! Could there be a better faith than this, a faith less free from worry and anxiety? They tell a story about a doctor meeting a collier on a bridge in Prague and condescendingly asking the poor layman, 'My dear man, what do you believe?' The collier replied, 'Whatever the Church believes.' The doctor: 'Well, what does the Church believe?' The collier: 'What I believe.' Some time later the doctor was about to die. In his last moments he was so fiercely assailed by the devil that he could not maintain his ground nor find rest until he said, 'I believe what the collier believes.' A similar story is being told of the great [Catholic theologian] Thomas Aquinas, viz., that in his last moments he was driven into a corner by the devil, and finally declared, 'I believe what is written in this Book.' He had the Bible in his arms while he spoke these words. God grant that not much of such faith be found among us! For if these people did not believe in a different manner, both the doctor and the collier have been landed in the abyss of hell by their faith." (17, 2013.)

Luther's teaching regarding the Church leads to a proper valuation of the means of grace. Only through the evangelical Word and the evangelical ordinances is the Church planted, watered, and sustained. It is, therefore, necessary that the world be supplied in abundance with the Word through the missionary operations of Christians, and that the Christians themselves have the Word dwell among them richly (Col. 3, 16). "He that abideth in Me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit; for without Me ye can do nothing," says the Head of the Church to His disciples (John 15, 5); and in His last prayer He pleads with the Father in their behalf: "Sanctify them through Thy truth: Thy Word is truth" (John 17, 17). For the same reason it is necessary that the Word and Sacraments be preserved in their Scriptural purity, that any deviation from the clear teaching of the Bible be resisted, and orthodoxy be maintained. Errors in doctrine are like tares in a wheat-field: they are useless in themselves, and they hinder the growth of good plants. Error saves no one, but some are still saved in spite of error by clinging to the truth which is offered them along with the error. Luther believed that this happened even in the error-ridden Catholic Church.

Luther's teaching regarding the Church enables us, furthermore, to form a right estimate of the ministry in the Church. Christ wants all believers to be proclaimers of His truth and grace. The apostle whom Catholics regard as the first Pope says to all Christians: "Ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people, that ye should show forth the praises of Him who hath called you out of darkness into His marvelous light" (1 Pet. 2, 9). To the local congregation of believers, which is to deal with an offending brother, even to the extent of putting him out of the church, Christ says: "If he neglect to hear the church, let him be unto thee as an heathen man and a publican. Verily, I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." There is nothing that God denies even to the smallest company of believers while they are engaged in the discharge of their rights and duties as members of the Church; for Christ adds: "Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on earth as touching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of My Father which is in heaven. For where two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them" (Matt. 18, 17-20). All rights and duties of the Church are common to all members. All have the right to preach, to administer the Sacraments, etc. Over and above this, however, Christ has instituted also a personal ministry, men who can be "sent" even as He was sent by the Father (John 20, 21; comp. Rom. 10, 15: "How shall they preach, except they be sent?"); men who are to devote themselves exclusively to the reading of the Word (1 Tim. 4, 13), to teaching and guiding their fellow-believers in the way of divine truth (see the Epistles to Timothy and Titus). But the ministry in the Church does not represent a higher grade of Christianity,—the laymen representing the lower,—but the ministry is a service ordained for the "perfecting of the saints and the edifying of the body of Christ," viz., His Church (Eph. 4, 11. 12; 1, 23). Minister is derived from minus, "less," not from magis—from which we have Magister—meaning "more." The ministry of the Church of the New Testament is not a hierarchy, endowed with special privileges and powers by the Lord, but a body of humble workmen who serve their fellow-men and fellow-Christians in the spirit of Christ, who said: "The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister and to give His life a ransom for many" (Matt. 20, 28). Ministers merely exercise in public the common rights of all believers and are the believers' representatives in all their official acts. So Paul viewed the absolution which he pronounced upon the penitent member of the Corinthian congregation (2 Cor. 2, 10). When the Corinthians had begun to exalt their preachers unduly, he told them that they were "carnal." "Who is Paul," he exclaims, "and who is Apollos, but ministers by whom ye believed? . . . Let no man glory in men. For all things are yours; whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours" (1 Cor. 3, 4. 5. 20. 21). And Peter, the original Pope in the Catholics' belief, says: "The elders which are among you I exhort, who am also an elder, and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, and also a partaker of the glory that shall be revealed: Feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly, not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind; neither as being lords over God's heritage, but being ensamples to the flock" (1 Pet. 5, 1-3).

Lastly, Luther's teaching regarding the Church affords a wealth of comfort and sound direction in view of the divided condition of the visible Church. Through the ignorance and malice of men and through the wily activity of Satan, who creates divisions and offenses contrary to the doctrine of Christ, and is busy sowing tares among the wheat, there have arisen many church organizations, known by party names, differing from one another in their creedal statements, and warring upon each other. This is a sad spectacle to contemplate, and grieves Christian hearts sorely. But these divisions in the external and visible organizations do not touch the body of Christ, the communion of saints, the one holy Christian Church. In all ages and places the true believers in Christ are a unit. Among those who by faith have "put on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of Him that created him, there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircumcision, barbarian, Scythian, bond, nor free; but Christ is all, and in all" (Col. 3, 10. 11). This is the true Catholic, that is, universal, Church. The visible society which has usurped this name never was, nor is to-day, the universal Church. Before Protestantism arose, there was the Eastern Church, which has maintained a separate organization. This holy Christian Church is indestructible, because the Word of Christ, which is its bond, shall never pass away, and Christ rules even in the midst of His enemies. Visible church organizations are valuable only in as far as they shelter, and are nurseries of, the invisible Church. Luther never conceived the idea of founding a visible organization more powerful than the Catholic; he did not mean to pit one ecclesiastical body of men against another. His single aim was to restore the purity of teaching and the right administration of the Sacraments in accordance with the Scriptures. That his followers were named after him, we have shown not to be Luther's fault: Luther did not form a Church, but reformed the Church; he did not establish a new creed, but reestablished the old. The visible society of Lutherans to-day does not regard itself as the alone-saving Church, or as immune from error, or as infallible, but it does claim to be the Church of the pure Word and Sacraments. It knows that it is one in faith with all the children of God throughout the world and in all ages.

20. Luther on the God-Given Supremacy of the Pope.

In the opinion of Catholics Luther's greatest offense is what he has done to their Pope. This is Luther's unpardonable sin. Luther has done two things to the Pope: he has denied that the Pope exists by divine right, and he has in the most scurrilous manner spoken and written about the Pope and made his vaunted dignity the butt of universal ridicule. The indictment is true, but when the facts are stated, it will be seen to recoil on the heads of those who have drawn it.

Luther denies that Matt. 16, 18. 19 establishes the papacy in the Church of Christ. He denies that this text creates a one-man power in the Church, that it vests one individual with a sovereign jurisdiction over the spiritual affairs of all other men, making him the sole arbiter of their faith and the exclusive dispenser of divine grace, and, last, not least, that it says one word about the Pope. Luther makes, indeed, a clean and sweeping denial of every claim which Catholics advance for the God-given supremacy of their Popes. Inasmuch as the papacy stands or falls with Matt. 16, 18.19, he has put the Catholics in the worst predicament imaginable.

Catholics believe that Peter was singled out for particular honors in the Church by being declared the rock on which Christ builds His Church, and by being given the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Peter's supremacy as Primate of the World, they hold, passed over to Peter's successor and is perpetuated in an unbroken line of succession in the Roman Popes. Three questions, then, confronted Luther in the study of this text in Matthew. First, does the "rock" in Matt. 16, 18 signify Peter? The Lord had addressed to all His disciples the question, "Whom say ye that I am?" Instead of all of them answering and creating a confusion, Peter, the most impulsive of the apostles, speaks up and says, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." With these words Peter expressed the common faith of all the disciples. Not one of them dissented from his statement; he had voiced the joint conviction of them all. Peter was the spokesman, but the confession was that of the apostles. Any other apostle might have spoken first and said the same, had he been quicker than Peter. If there is any merit in Peter's confession of Christ, all other disciples, yea, all who confess Christ as Peter did, share that merit. In replying to Peter the Lord takes all merit away from Peter by saying to him: "Blessed art thou, Simon Barjona; for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but My Father which is in heaven." He addresses Peter by the name he had borne before he became an apostle: Simon, son of Jonas, and tells him that if he were still what he used to be before he came to Christ, he could not have made the confession which he had just uttered. In his old unconverted state he would not have formed any higher opinion concerning Christ than the people throughout the country, some of whom thought that Christ was John the Baptist risen from the dead; others, that he was Jeremias; still others, that he was one of the ancient prophets come back to life. The deity of Jesus and His mission as Christ, that is, as the Messiah, our Lord says, are grasped by men only when the Father reveals these truths to them. A spiritual nature, a new mind such as the Spirit gives in regeneration, is required for such a confession. The glory of Peter's confession, therefore, is the glory of every believer. To every Sunday-school child which recites Luther's explanation of the Second Article: "I believe that Jesus Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from eternity, and also true man, born of the Virgin Mary, is my Lord, who has redeemed me," the Lord would say the same thing as He did to Peter: My child, yours is an excellent confession; there is nothing fickle or undecided in it like in the vague and changing opinions which worldly men form about Me. Thank God that He has given you the grace to know Me as I ought to be known.

But did not the Lord proceed to declare Peter the rock on which He would build His Church? That is what Catholics believe, in spite of the fact that this would be the only place in the whole Bible where a human being would be represented as the foundation of the Church, while there are scores of passages which name quite another person as the rock that supports the Church. Catholics read this text thus: "Thou art Peter, and on thee will I build My Church." That is precisely what Christ did not say, and what He was most careful not to express. The words "Peter" and "rock" are plainly two different terms and denote two different objects. That is the most natural view to take of the matter. In the original Greek we find two words similar in sound, but distinct in meaning for the two objects to which Christ refers: Peter's name is Petros, which is a personal noun; the word for "rock" is petra, which is a common noun. In the Greek, then, Christ's answer reads thus: "Thou art Petros, and on this petra will I build my Church." Catholics claim that Christ, in answering Peter, introduced a play upon words, such as a witty person will indulge in: Petros, the apostle's name, signifies a rock-man, a firm person, and from this meaning it is an easy step to petra, which is plain rock or stone. If this interpretation is admitted, the expression "upon thee" may be substituted for the expression "on this rock." Yet not altogether. By adopting the peculiar phraseology "upon this rock" in the place of "upon thee," Christ avoids referring to the individual Peter, to the person known as Peter, and refers rather to a characteristic in him, namely, his firmness and boldness in confessing Christ. This every careful interpreter of this text will admit. Christ could easily have said: Upon thee will I build My Church, if it had been His intention to say just that. And we imagine on such a momentous occasion Christ would have used the plainest terms, containing no figure of speech, no ambiguities whatever; for was he not now introducing to the Church the distinguished person who was to preside over its affairs? Catholics claim that when Christ spoke these words, "upon this rock," He had extended His hand and was pointing to Peter. That would help us considerably in the interpretation of the text. The trouble is only that we are not told anything about such a gesture of Christ, and if a gesture must be invented, it is possible to invent an altogether different one, as we shall see. But if Christ, by saying, "upon this rock," instead of saying, "upon thee," referred not to Peter as a person, but to a quality in Peter, namely, to his firm faith, then it follows that the Church is not built on the person of Peter, but on a quality of Peter. This is the best that Catholics can obtain from the interpretation which they have attempted. But if the Church is built on firm faith, there is no reason why that faith should be just Peter's. Would not every firm believer in the deity and Redeemership of Christ become the rock on which the Church is built just as much as Peter? Luther declared quite correctly: "We are all Peters if we believe like Peter." Really, the Catholics ought to be willing to help strengthen the foundation of the Church by admitting that the rock would become a stouter support if, instead of the firm faith of one man, the equally firm faith of hundreds, thousands, and millions of other men were added to prop up the Church. In all seriousness, it will be absolutely necessary to give Peter some assistants; for we know that the job of holding up the Church was too big for him on at least two occasions. What became of the Church in the night when Peter denied the Lord? In that night, the Catholics would have to believe, the Church was built on a liar and blasphemer. What became of the Church in the days when Peter came to Antioch and Paul withstood him to the face because he was dissembling his Christian convictions not to offend a Judaizing party in the Church? (Gal. 2.) Was the Church in those days built on a canting hypocrite?

But the greatest difficulty in admitting the Catholic interpretation is met when one remembers those Bible-texts which name an altogether different rock as the foundation and corner-stone of the Church. Paul says that in their desert wanderings the Israelites were accompanied by Christ. He was their unseen Guide and Benefactor. He supported their faith. "They drank of that spiritual Rock that followed them; and that Rock was Christ" (1 Cor. 10, 4). At the conclusion of the Sermon on the Mount the Lord relates a parable about a wise and a foolish builder. The foolish builder set up his house on sand; the wise builder built on rock. By the rock, however, the Lord would have us understand "these sayings of Mine" (Matt. 7, 24). Paul speaks of the Church to the Ephesians thus: "Ye are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief corner-stone" (chap. 2, 20). Most fatal, however, to the Catholic interpretation is the testimony of Peter. Exhorting the Christians to eager study of the Word of the Lord, he goes on to say: "To whom coming, as unto a living stone, disallowed indeed of men, but chosen of God, and precious, ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ. Wherefore also it is contained in the scripture, Behold, I lay in Sion a chief corner-stone, elect, precious; and he that believeth on Him shall not be confounded. Unto you therefore which believe He is precious, but unto them which be disobedient, the stone which the builders disallowed, the same is made the head of the corner, and a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense, even to them which stumble at the Word, being disobedient" (1 Pet. 2, 4-8). Here Peter in the plainest and strongest terms declares Christ to be the rock on which the Church is built. The scribes and Pharisees rejected Him, as had been foretold, but the common people who heard Him gladly embraced His message of salvation, and rested their faith on what He had taught them and done for them. Peter evidently did not understand the text in Matthew as the Catholics understand it. Peter in his Epistle is really a heretic in what he says about the rock, and if the Catholics could spare him from under the Church, they ought to burn him.

Instead of connecting the two parts of the statement: "Thou art Peter," and, "Upon this rock I will build My Church," as closely as Catholics do, the two parts ought to be kept separate. What the Lord says to Peter may be paraphrased thus: Peter, there was a time when you were merely Simon, Jonas's son. At that time you had thoughts and formed opinions about holy matters such as your flesh and blood, your natural reason, suggested to you. All that is changed now that you are a Peter, a firm believer in the revelation which the Father makes to men about Me. What you have confessed is the exact truth; cling to that against all odds; for upon this person whom you have confessed, as upon a rock, I will build My Church.—And now we may imagine that the Lord, while uttering the words, "upon this rock," pointed to Himself. The text does not say that the Lord made such a gesture; we simply imagine this, but our imagination is not only just as good as that of the Catholics, but better, for the gesture which we assume agrees with the teachings of all the Scriptures that speak of Christ's person and work.

However, the Catholics remind us that Christ gave to Peter the keys of the kingdom of heaven and made him the doorkeeper of paradise. Yes, so the text reads, and with Luther we should now inquire: Was it a brass, or silver, or golden, or wooden key? Is the lock on the gate of heaven a common padlock, or like the cunning contrivances which are nowadays employed in safety vaults? Catholics are very much offended when one speaks thus of the keys of Peter. They say sarcasm is out of place in such holy matters. That is quite true; but, again with Luther, we would urge that the keys of which we are speaking sarcastically are not the keys in Matt. 16, 10, but the keys in the Catholic imagination. And these latter one can hardly treat with reverence. The Catholics must admit that no real key, or anything resembling a key, was given to Peter by Christ. The language in this text is figurative: the words which follow state the Lord's meaning in plain terms. The power of the keys is the preaching of the forgiveness of sins to penitent sinners, and the withholding of grace from those who do not repent. If that is admitted to be the meaning, we need turn only one leaf in our Bible, and read what is stated in Matt. 18, 18. There the Lord confers the same authority on all the disciples which He is said in Matt. 16, 19 to have conferred on Peter exclusively. On this latter occasion Peter, if the Catholics have the right view of the keys, ought to have interposed an objection and said to the Lord, What you give to the others is my property. Evidently Peter did not connect the same meaning with the words of Christ about the keys as the Catholics. Christ spoke of this matter once more, and in terms still plainer, at the meeting on Easter Eve, and again addressed all the disciples. Again Peter made no complaint. (John 20.)

It should be noted , moreover, that in this entire text in Matthew the Lord speaks in the future tense: "I will build," "I will give." The words do not really confer a grant, but are at best a promise. It is necessary now that the Catholics find a complement to this text in Matthew, a text which relates that Christ actually carried out later what He promised to Peter in Matt. 16, 18. 19. The Lord seems to have forgotten the fulfilment of His promise, and the matter seems to have slipped Peter's mind, too; for we are not told that he reminded the Lord of His promise, though he asked him on another occasion what would be the reward of his discipleship. (Matt. 19, 27 ff.)

Luther has, furthermore, appealed to the Catholics to prove from the Scriptures that Peter ever exercised such an authority as they claim for him. If Peter had been created the prince of the apostles or the visible head of the Church, we should expect to find evidence in our Bible that Peter acted as a privileged person and was so regarded by the other apostles. But we may read through the entire book of Acts and all the apostolic epistles: they tell us very minutely how the Church was planted in many lands, how it grew and spread, but there is not even a faint hint that Peter was regarded as the primate, or Pope, in his day. When a certain question of doctrine was to be decided in which the congregations of Paul were interested, Paul did not lay the matter before Peter to obtain his judgment on it, but referred it to a council of the Church. At this council many spoke, and it was not Peter's, but James's speech which finally decided the matter. (Acts 15.) When Philip had organized congregations in Samaria, the church at Jerusalem sent Peter and John to visit them. Peter did not assume control of these churches by his own right, nor had Philip in the first place directed the Samaritans to Peter as their head. (Acts 8, 14 ff.) We have thirteen letters of Paul, three of John, besides the Revelation, one of James, and one of Jude. The state of the Church, its affairs and development, are the subject-matter of all these writings, but not one of them reveals the popedom of Peter. Yea, Peter himself has written two epistles and appears utterly ignorant of the fact that the Lord had created him His vicegerent and the visible head of the Church.

The Catholic argument for the God-given supremacy of their Pope, however, becomes perfectly reckless when we bear in mind that their banner text speaks only of Peter, but says nothing at all about Peter's successors. If Peter possessed the supremacy that Catholics claim for him, how and by what right did he dispose of it at his death? How did this power become attached to Rome? On all these questions the Bible is silent. Catholics construct a skilful argument from fragmentary and doubtful historical records, which are not God's Word, to show that Peter chore Rome as his episcopal see, and therewith transferred his primacy for all time to this place. To fabricate a dogma that is to be binding on the consciences of all Christians in such a way is daring impudence. The devout Catholic must close his eyes to all history if he is to believe that Christ really appointed a Pope. When he reads the history of the Popes, and comes to the period of the papal schism, when the Church had not only one, but two visible heads, one residing at Rome, the other at Avignon, yea, when he reads of three contestants for papal honors, and beholds the Church as a tricephalous monster, he must stop thinking.

Luther regarded the papacy as the most monstrous fraud that has been practised on Christianity. In its gradual and persistent development and the success with which it has maintained itself through all reverses, it impresses one as something uncanny. It requires more than human wiliness to originate, foster, perfect, and support such a thoroughly unbiblical and antichristian institution. Luther spoke of the papal deception as one of the signs foreboding the end of the world. He has not spoken in delicate terms of the Popes. His most virulent utterances are directed against the "Vicar of Christ" at Rome. He traces the papacy to diabolical origin. When he lays bare the shocking perversions of revealed truths of which Rome has been guilty, and talks about the foul practises of the Popes and their courtesans, Luther's language becomes appalling. In a series of twenty-six cartoons Luther's friend Cranach depicted the rule of Christ and Antichrist. The series was published under the title "Passional Christi und Antichristi." (14, 184 ff.) By placing alongside of one another scenes from the life of the Lord and scenes from the lives of the Popes, the artist displayed very effectually the contrast between the true religion which the Redeemer had taught men by His Word and example, and the false religiousness which was represented by the papacy. On the one side was humility, on the other, pride; poverty was shown in contrast with wealth; meekness was placed over and against arrogance, etc. At a glance the people saw the chasm that yawned between the preaching and practise of Jesus and that of His pretended representative and vicar, and they verified the pictures showing the Pope in various attitudes from their own experience. These cartoons became very popular, and have maintained their popularity till the most recent times. During the "Kulturkampf" which the German government under Bismarck waged against the aggressive policy of the Vatican, the German painter Hofmann issued a new edition of the "Passionale," and Emperor William I sent a copy to the Pope with a warning letter.

Catholics complain about the rudeness and nastiness of these cartoons and others that followed. Luther is supposed to have furnished the rhymes and descriptive matter which accompanied them. Lather is also cited as uttering most repulsive and scurrilous sentiments about the Pope.

What are we to say about this antipapal violence of Luther? Certainly, it is not a pleasant subject. We are in this instance facing essentially the same situation as that which confronted us when we studied Luther's "coarseness" (chap. 5), and all that was said in that connection applies with equal force to the subject now before us. One may deplore the necessity of these passionate outbursts ever so much, but when all the evidence in the case has been gathered and the jury begins to sift the evidence and weigh the arguments on either side, there is at the worst a drawn jury. All who have truly sounded "the mystery of iniquity" which has been set up in the Church by the papacy will affirm Luther's sentiments about the Pope as true.

It is necessary, however, to point out certain facts that may be regarded as additional argument to what was said in chap. 5. In the first place, the cartoon is a recognized weapon in polemics. The struggle of the Protestants against the Pope was not altogether a religious and spiritual one; political matters were discussed together with affairs of religion at every German diet in those days. The age was rude and largely illiterate. Many who could never have made any sense out of a page of printed matter, very easily understood a picture. It conveyed truthful information, though in a form that hurt, as cartoons usually do, and it roused a healthy sentiment against a very malignant evil in the Church and in the body politic. If the Popes would keep out of politics, they and their followers would enjoy more quiet nerves.

In the second place, it should be borne in mind that the claim of papal supremacy is no small and innocent matter. The Popes wrested to themselves the supreme spiritual and temporal power in the world. They pretended to be the custodians of heaven, the directors of purgatory, and the lords of the earth. Across the history of the world in the era of Luther is written in all directions the one word ROME. It is Rome at the altar swinging the censer, Rome in the panoply of battle storming trenches and steeping her hands in gore, Rome in the councils of kings, Rome in the halls of guilds, Rome in the booth of the trader at a town-fair, Rome in the judge's seat, Rome in the professor's chair, Rome receiving ambassadors from, and dispatching nuncios to, foreign courts, Rome dictating treaties to nations and arranging the cook's menu, Rome labeling the huckster's cart and the vintner's crop, Rome levying a tax upon the nuptial bed, Rome exacting toll at the gate of heaven. Out of the wreck of the imperial Rome of the Caesars has risen papal Rome. Once more, though through different agents, the City of the Seven Hills is ruling an orbis terrarum Romanus, a Roman world-empire. The rule extends through nearly a thousand years. How deftly do cunning priests manipulate every means at their command to increase their power! Learning, wealth, beauty, art, piety,—everything is used as an asset in the ambitious game for absolute supremacy which the mitered vicegerent of Christ is playing against the world. Rome's ancient pontifex maximus —the pagan high priest of the Rome before Christ—had been a tool of the consuls and the Caesars; the new pontiff makes the Caesars his tools. Princes kiss his feet and hold the stirrup for him as he mounts his bedizened palfrey. An emperor stands barefoot in the snow of the Pope's courtyard suing pardon for having dared to govern without the Pope's sanction.—The forests of Germany are reverberating with the blows of axes which Rome's missionaries wield against Donar's Oaks. The sanctuaries of pagan Germany are razed. Out of the wood of idols crucifixes are erected along the highways. Chapels and abbeys and cathedrals rise where the aurochs was hunted. Sturdy barbarians bend the knee at the shrines of saints. Hosts set out to see the land where the Lord had walked and suffered, and brave all dangers and hardships to wrest its possession from infidel hands. But at the place where all these activities center, and whence they are being fed, a shocking abomination is seen: Venus is worshiped, and Bacchus, and Mercurius, and Mars, while white-robed choirs chant praises to the mother of God, and clouds of incense are wafted skyward. Here is a mystery—a mystery of iniquity: the son of perdition in the temple of God! Proud, haughty Rome, wealthy, wicked and wanton, is filling up her measure of wrath against the day of retribution.—We are now so far removed from these scenes that they seem unreal; in Luther's days they were decidedly real. Rome's aggressiveness has been perceptibly checked during the last four centuries; in Luther's days papal pretensions were a more formidable proposition.

Human arrogance may be said to have reached its limit in the papacy. The Pope is practically a God on earth. "Sitting in the temple of God as God, he is showing himself that he is God" (2 Thess. 2, 4). He has been addressed by his followers in terms of the Deity. "When the Pope thinks, it is God thinking," wrote the papal organ of Rome, the Civilta Cattolica, in 1869. He has asserted the right to make laws for Christians, and to dispense with the laws of the Almighty. Although this seemed a superfluous proceeding, he declared himself infallible on July 18, 1870. Under a glowering sky, as if Heaven frowned angrily at the Pope's attempt, Plus IX had entered St. Peter's. As a "second Moses" he mounted the papal throne to read the Constitution "Aeternus Pater," the document in which he made the following claims: Canon III: "If any one says that the Roman Pontiff has only authority to inspect and direct, but not plenary and supreme authority of jurisdiction over the entire Church, not only in matters which relate to faith and morals, but also in matters that belong to the discipline and government of the Church scattered through the whole earth; or that he has only the more eminent part of such authority, but not the full plenitude of this supreme authority; or that this authority of his is not his ordinary authority which he holds from no intermediary, and that it does not extend over all churches and every single one of them, over all pastors and every single one of them, over all the faithful and every single one of them, —let him be accursed!" Canon IV: "With the approval of the Sacred Council we teach and declare it to be a dogma revealed from heaven that the Roman Pontiff, when he speaks ex cathedra, that is, when, in accordance with his supreme apostolic authority, be discharges his office as Pastor and Teacher of all Christians, and defines a doctrine relating to the faith or morals which is to be embraced by the entire Church, he is, by divine assistance promised to him in the blessed Peter, vested with that infallibility with which the divine Redeemer desired His Church to be endowed in defining the doctrine of faith and morals; and that for this reason such definitions of the Roman Pontiff are in their very nature, not, however, by reason of the consent of the Church, unchangeable. If—which God may avert!—any one should presume to contradict this definition of ours,—let him be accursed!" Amid flashes of lightning and peals of thunder this document was read to a council whose membership had shrunk during seven months of deliberation from 767 to 547 attendants,—277 qualified members had never put in an appearance,—and of these all but two had been cowed into abject submission. When one recalls scenes like these, and remembers that Catholic teaching on justification attacks the very heart of Christianity, anything that Luther has said about the Popes appears mild. Such heaven-storming and God-defying arrogance deserves to be dragged through the mire—with apologies to the mire.

21. Luther the Translator of the Bible.

A violent attack upon Luther by Catholic writers is caused by the admiration which Protestants manifest for Luther because he translated the Bible into German. Catholics, of course, cannot deny that Luther did translate the Bible, and that his translation is still a cherished treasure of Protestants; but in order to belittle this achievement of Luther, which inflicted incalculable damage on Rome, they talk about Luther's unfitness for the work of Bible-translation and about the unwarranted liberties Luther took with the Bible.

These writers claim that Luther was, in the first place, morally unfit to undertake the translation of the Bible. To show to what desperate means Luther's Catholic critics will resort in order to make out a case against him, we note that one of the most recent disparagers of Luther informs the public that Luther's original name had been Luder. This name conveys the idea of "carrion," "beast," "low scoundrel." When Luther began to translate the Bible, we are told, he changed his name into "Squire George." Once before this, at the time of his entering the university, Catholics note that he changed his name from Luder to Lueder. But these changes of his name, they say, did not improve his character. We are told that, while Luther was engaged upon the work of rendering the Bible into German, he was consumed with fleshly lust and given to laziness. Luther's own statements in letters to friends are cited to corroborate this assertion. The conclusion which we are to draw from these "facts" is this: Such a corrupt person could not possibly be a proper instrument for the Holy Spirit to employ in so pious an undertaking as the translation of the Word of God.

Catholics should be reminded that they misquote the book of matriculation in which the students at Erfurt signed their names on entering the university. Luther's signature is not "Lueder" but "Ludher." Other forms of the name "Luder" and "Lueder" occur elsewhere. But in any form the name has a more honorable derivation and meaning than Catholic writers are inclined to give it. It is derived from "Luither," which means as much as "People's Man," (= der Leute Herr). Another well-known form of the same name is Lothar, which some, tracing the derivation still further, derive from the old German Chlotachar, which means as much as "loudly hailed among the army" (= hluit, loud, and chari, army). Respectable scholars to-day so explain the name Luther.

At the Wartburg, where Luther was an exile for ten months, his name was changed by the warden of the castle, Count von Berlepsch. This was done the better to conceal his identity from the henchmen of Rome, who by the imperial edict of outlawry had been given liberty to hunt Luther and slay him where they found him.

The sexual condition of Luther during the years before his marriage was the normal condition of any healthy young man at his age. Luther speaks of this matter as a person nowadays would speak about it to his physician or to a close friend. The matter to which he refers is in itself perfectly pure: it is an appeal of nature. Do Luther's Catholic critics mean to infer that Luther was the only monk, then or now, that felt this call which human nature issues by the ordination of the Creator? Rome can inflict celibacy even on priests that look like stall-fed oxen, but she cannot unsex men. Mohammedans are less inhuman to their eunuchs. Moreover, it must be borne in mind that Luther complains of this matter as something that disturbs him. It vexed his pure mind, and he fought against it as not many monks of his day have done, by fasting, prayer, and hard work. Yes, hard work! The remarks of Luther about his physical condition are simply twisted from their true import when Luther is represented as a victim of fleshly lust and a habitual debauchee. Luther's Catholic critics fail to mention that during his brief stay at the Wartburg Luther not only translated the greater part of the New Testament, but also wrote about a dozen treatises, some of them of considerable size, and that of his correspondence during this period about fifty letters are still preserved. Surely, a fairly respectable record for a lazy man!

Catholic writers also declare Luther spiritually unfit for translating the Bible. They say that all the time that Luther spent at the Wartburg he was haunted by the devil. He would hear strange noises and see weird shadows flit before him. He felt that he had come under the sway of the powers of darkness. This, we are assured, was because he had risen in rebellion against the divine power of the papacy. The Holy Father whom he had attacked was being avenged upon Luther by an accusing conscience. Luther was given a foretaste of the terrors that await the reprobate. He had become an incipient demoniac. The inference which we are to draw from this delightful description is this: Could such an abandoned wretch as Luther was during the exile at the Wartburg be favored with the holy calm and composure and the heavenly light which any person must possess who sets out upon the arduous task of telling men in their own tongue what God has said to them in a foreign tongue?

There is hardly a period in Luther's life that is entirely free from spiritual affliction. In this respect Luther shares the common lot of godly men in responsible positions in Church or State during critical times. Moreover, Luther with all Christians believed in a personal and incessantly active devil. Luther's devil was not the denatured metaphysical and scientific devil of modern times, which meets us in the form of the principle of negation, or logical contradiction, or a demoralizing tendency and influence, but an energetic devil, possessed of an intelligence and will of his own, and going about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Luther accepted the teaching of the Bible that this devil is related to men's sinning, that men can be made to do, and are doing, his will, and are led about by the devil like slaves. Luther knew that for His own reasons God permits the devil to afflict His children, as happened to Job and Paul. Add to this the reaction that must have set in after Luther had quitted the stirring scenes and the severe ordeals through which he had passed before the imperial court at Worms. In the silence and solitude of his secluded asylum in the Thuringian Forest the recent events in which he had been a principal actor passed in review before his mind, and he began to spell out many a grave and ominous meaning from them. If it is true that the devil loves to find a lonely man, here was his chance.

And if the devil ever had material interests at stake in attacking a particular person, he made no mistake in assailing this isolated monk, Martin Luther, in his moments of brooding and depression. Lastly, Luther's physical condition at the Wartburg must be taken into consideration. Trained to frugal habits in the cloister and habituated to fasts and mortification of the flesh, Luther found the new mode of living which he was compelled to adopt uncongenial. He was the guest of a prince and was treated like a nobleman. The rich and abundant food that was served him was a disastrous diet for him, even though he did not yield overmuch to his appetite. He complains in his letters to friends during the Wartburg period about his physical distress, chiefly constipation, to which he was constitutionally prone.

But after all these elements have been noted, it must be stated that the reports about diabolical visitations to which Luther was subject at the Wartburg are overdrawn for a purpose by Catholics. Luther's references to this matter in his letters written at the time suggest only spiritual conflicts, but no physical contact with the devil. Reminiscences of his first exile which he relates at a much later period to the guests at his table are also exaggerated. These soul-battles, far from unfitting him for the work of translating the Bible, were rather a fine training-school through which God put His humble servant, and helped him to understand the sacred text over which he sat poring in deep meditation.

Lastly, Catholic critics have pronounced Luther intellectually disqualified for translating the Bible. His Greek scholarship, they say, was poor. He had barely begun to study that language. It stands to reason that his translation must be very faulty. They also emphasize the rapidity with which Luther worked. The translation of the entire New Testament was completed between December 8, 1521, and September 22 the following year. (It will be remembered that Luther had returned to Wittenberg in the first days of March, 1522, and all through the spring and summer of that year was busily engaged, with the aid of friends, on his German New Testament.) Finally, Catholics, in their efforts to belittle Luther's works, have claimed that he plagiarized a German translation already in existence, the so-called Codex Teplensis.

It seems a mere waste of time to answer these criticisms. They remind one of a scene in the life of Columbus: the learned Catholic divines of Salamanca had to their own satisfaction routed the bold navigator with their arguments that he could not possibly start out by his proposed route. No doubt, some of them contended that he never made his famous voyage even after his return. What profit can there be in arguing the impossibility of a thing when the reality confronts you? Luther's translation is before the world; everybody who knows Greek can compare it with the original text. The Teplensian translation, too, can be looked into. In fact, all this has been done by competent scholars, and Luther's translation has been pronounced a masterpiece. Not only does it reproduce the original text faithfully, but it speaks a good and correct German. Luther's translation of the Bible is now regarded as one of the classics of German literature. It is true that the philological attainments of the world have increased since Luther, and that improvements in his translations have been suggested, but they do not affect any essential teaching of the Christian religion. Bible commentators to-day are still citing Luther's rendering as an authority. The movement recently started in Germany to replace Luther's translation by a modern one deserves little consideration because it originated in quarters that are professedly hostile to Christianity. The things in Luther's German Bible which vex Catholics most are in the original Greek text. Luther did not manufacture them, he merely reproduced them. It is the fact that Luther made it possible for Germans to see what is really in the Bible that hurts. To please the Catholics, Luther should not have translated the Bible at all.

The truth of this remark is readily seen when one examines specific exceptions which Catholics have taken to Luther's translation. They find fault with Luther's translation of the angel's address to Mary: "Du Holdselige," that is, Thou gracious one, or well-favored one. The Catholics demand that this term should be rendered "full of grace," because in their belief Mary is really the chief dispenser of grace. They complain that in Matt. 3, 2 Luther has rendered the Baptist's call: "Tut Busse," that is, Repent, instead of, Do penance. They fault Luther for translating in Acts 19, 18: "Und verkuendigten, was sie ausgerichtet hatten," that is, They reported what they had accomplished. Catholics regard this text as a stronghold for their doctrine of confession, especially for that part of it which makes satisfaction by works of penance a part of confession; they insist that the text must be rendered: They declared their deeds, that is, the works which they had performed by order of their confessors. Catholics charge Luther with having inserted a word in Rom. 4, 15, which he translates: "Das Gesetz richtet nur Zorn an," that is, The law worketh only wrath, or nothing but wrath. They object to the word "only," because in their view man can by his own natural powers make himself love the Law. They set up a great hue and cry about another insertion in Rom. 3, 28, which Luther translates: "So halten wir es nun, dass der Mensch gerecht werde ohne des Gesetzes Werk', allein durch den Glauben," that is, We conclude, therefore, that a man is justified without the deeds of the Law, by faith alone; they object to the word "alone," because in their teaching justification is by faith plus works. It is known that there are translations before Luther which contain the same insertion. On this insertion Luther deserves to be heard himself. "I knew full well," he says, "that in the Latin and Greek texts of Rom. 3, 28 the word solum (alone) does not occur, and there was no need of the papists teaching me that. True, these four letters sola, at which the dunces stare as a cow at a new barn-door, are not in the text. But they do not see that they express the meaning of the text, and they must be inserted if we wish to clearly and forcibly translate the text. When I undertook to translate the Bible into German, my aim was to speak German, not Latin or Greek. Now, it is a peculiarity of our German language, whenever a statement is made regarding two things, one of which is affirmed while the other is negatived, to add the word solum, 'alone,' to the word 'not' or 'none.' As, for instance: The peasant brings only grain, and no money. Again: Indeed, I have no money now, but only grain. As yet I have only eaten, and not drunk. Have you only written, and not read what you have written? Innumerable instances of this kind are in daily usage. While the Latin or the Greek language does not do this, the German has this peculiarity, that in all statements of this kind it adds the word 'only' (or 'alone'), in order to express the negation completely and clearly. For, though I may say: The peasant brings grain and no money, still the expression 'no money' is not as perfect and plain as when I say: The peasant brings grain only, and no money. Thus the word 'alone' or 'only' helps the word 'no' to become a complete, clear German statement. When you wish to speak German, you must not consult the letters in the Latin language, as these dunces are doing, but you must inquire of a mother how she talks to her children, of the children how they talk to each other on the street, of the common people on the market-place. Watch them how they frame their speech, and make your translation accordingly, and they will understand it and know that some one is speaking German to them. For instance, Christ says: Ex abundantia cordis os loquitur. If I were to follow the dunces, I would have to spell out those words and translate: 'Aus dem Ueberfluss des Herzens redet der Mund!' Tell me, would that be German? What German would understand that? What sort of thing is 'abundance of heart (Ueberfluss des Herzens)' ? No German person could explain that, unless he were to say that, possibly, the person had enlargement of the heart, or too much heart. And that would not be the correct meaning. 'Ueberfluss des Herzens' is not German, as little as it is German to say 'Ueberfluss des Hauses (abundance of house), Ueberfluss des Kachelofens (abundance of tile-oven), Ueberfluss der Bank (abundance of bench).' This is the way the mother speaks to her children and the common people to one another: 'Wes das Herz voll ist, des gehet der Mund ueber.' That is the way to speak good German. That is what I have endeavored to do, but I did not succeed nor achieve my aim in all instances. Latin terms are an exceedingly great hindrance to one who wishes to talk good German." (19, 974.)

In insisting on the principle that a translation must reproduce the exact thought of a language, that idiomatic utterances of the one language must be replaced by similar utterances in the other, and that the genius of both the language from which and the one into which the translation is made must be observed by the translator, Luther has every rhetoric and grammar on his side. Those who find fault with him on this score deserve no better titles than those which he applied to them, all the more because he knew the true reason of their faultfinding. The Catholic charges of Bible perversion against Luther flow, not from a knowledge of good grammar, but from bad theology. Luther was, of course, fundamentally in error according to the opinion of Catholics by not making his translation from the approved and authorized Latin Vulgate, the official Catholic Bible, but from the Greek original.

To return favor for favor, we shall note a few places where Catholics might bring their own Bible into better harmony with the original text. In Gen. 3, 15 their translation reads: "She shall crush thy head, and thou shalt lie in wait for her heel." This rendering has been adopted in order to enable them to refer this primeval prophecy of the future Redeemer to Mary. Gen. 4, 13 they have rendered: "My iniquity is greater than that I may deserve pardon." This is to favor their teaching of justification on the basis of merit. The rendering "Speak not much" for "Use not vain repetitions" in Matt. 6, 7 weakens the force of the Lord's warning. In Rom. 14, 5 the Catholic Bible tells its readers: "Let every man abound in his own sense," whatever the sense of that direction may be. What the apostle really means is: "Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind." In Gal. 3, 24 the Catholic Bible calls the Law "our pedagog in Christ"; the correct rendering is: "our schoolmaster to bring us unto Christ." In the Catholic Bible the following remarkable event takes place in Luke 16, 22: "The rich man also died: and he was buried in hell." The pall-bearers, funeral director, and mourners at these obsequies deserve a double portion of our sympathy. In Acts 2, 42 we are told that the disciples at Jerusalem were persevering "in the communication of the breaking of the bread." The last verse in Galatians, chap. 4, is made to read: "So then, brethren, we are not the children of the bondwoman, but of the free: by the freedom wherewith Christ has made us free." The next chapter begins: "Stand fast," etc.