The Leipzig Debate is of great significance in Luther’s development as a reformer primarily because he on that occasion publicly stated his evangelical conception of the church in unmistakable terms and showed that in the last analysis his sole authority in matters of faith was the Word of God. Therefore he could state without reservations that not only the papacy but also church councils could err. This made reconciliation with the Roman church virtually impossible. It led inexorably to the threat of excommunication and finally to excommunication itself.
Luther, M. (1999). Luther’s works, vol. 31: Career of the Reformer I. (J. J. Pelikan, H. C. Oswald, & H. T. Lehmann, Eds.) (Vol. 31, p. 311). Philadelphia: Fortress Press.
Martin Luther will defend the following theses against new and old errors at the University of Leipzig.
1. Every man sins daily, but he also repents daily according to Christ’s teaching, “Repent” [Matt. 4:17], possibly with the exception of a person who has just been made righteous and who does not need repentance, although the heavenly vinedresser daily prunes the fruit-bearing vines [Cf. John 15:1–2].
2. To deny that man sins even when doing good; that venial sin is pardonable, not according to its nature, but by the mercy of God; or that sin remains in the child after baptism; that is equivalent to crushing Paul and Christ under foot.
3. He who maintains that a good work and penance begin with the hatred of sins and prior to the love of righteousness and that one no longer sins in doing good work, him we number among the Pelagian heretics; but we also prove that this is a silly interpretation of his holy Aristotle.
4. God changes an eternal punishment into a temporary one, that is, the punishment of carrying the cross. Canons or priests have no power to burden one with the cross or to remove it, although, deceived by harmful flatterers, they presume that they can do this.
5. Every priest must absolve the penitent of punishment and guilt. If he does not, he sins. So does a higher prelate if he reserves secret matters without good reason, though the usage of the church, that is, of flatterers, opposes this.
6. Perhaps the souls in purgatory do render satisfaction for their sins. It is brazen rashness, however, to assert that God demands more of a dying person than a willingness to die since in no way can this assertion be proven.
7. He who babbles about the free will being the master of good or evil deeds shows he does not know what faith, contrition, or free will are; nor does he know who imagines that one is not justified alone by faith in the Word, or that faith is not lost in every mortal sin.
8. It is contrary to truth and reason to state that those who die unwillingly are deficient in love and must therefore suffer the horror of purgatory, but only if truth and reason are the same as the opinions of the would-be theologians.
9. We are familiar with the assertion of would-be theologians that the souls in purgatory are certain of their salvation and that grace is no longer increased in them; but we marvel at these very learned men that they can offer the uneducated no cogent reason for this their conviction.
10. It is certain that the merit of Christ is the treasure of the church and that this treasure is enhanced by the merits of the saints; but no one except a filthy flatterer or one who strays from the truth and embraces certain false practices and usages of the church pretends that the merits of Christ are the treasure of indulgences.
11. To say that indulgences are a blessing for a Christian is insane, for they are in truth a hindrance to a good work; and a Christian must reject indulgences because of their abuse, for the Lord says, “I, I am He who blots out your transgressions for my own sake” [Isa. 43:25], not for the sake of money.
12. Completely unlearned sophists and pestiferous flatterers dream that the pope can remit every punishment owed for sins in this and the future life and that indulgences are helpful to those who are not guilty. But they cannot prove this with so much as a gesture.
1
3. The very callous decrees of the Roman pontiffs which have appeared in the last four hundred years prove that the Roman church is superior to all others. Against them stand the history of eleven hundred years, the test of divine Scripture, and the decree of the Council of Nicaea, the most sacred of all councils.
Luther, M. (1999). Luther’s works, vol. 31: Career of the Reformer I. (J. J. Pelikan, H. C. Oswald, & H. T. Lehmann, Eds.) (Vol. 31, pp. 317–318). Philadelphia: Fortress Press.
The Leipsic Disputation
by D'Aubigne
On the 4th of July the discussion between Eck and Luther
commenced. Everything seemed to promise that it would be more violent, more
decisive, and more interesting than that which had just concluded, and which
had gradually thinned the hall. The two combatants entered the arena resolved
not to lay down their arms until victory declared its favor of one or the
other. The general expectation was aroused, for the papal primacy was to be the
subject of discussion. Christianity has two great adversaries: hierarchism and
rationalism. Rationalism, in its application to the doctrine of man’s ability,
had been attacked by the reformers in the previous part of the Leipsic
disputation. Hierarchism, considered in what is at once its summit and its
base,— the doctrine of papal authority,— was to be contested in the second.
On
the one side appeared Eck, the champion of the established religion, vaunting
of the discussion he had maintained, as a general boasts of his campaigns. On
the other side advanced Luther, who seemed destined to reap persecution and
ignominy from this struggle, but who still presented himself with a good
conscience, a firm resolution to sacrifice everything in the cause of truth,
and an assurance grounded in faith in God, and in the deliverance He grants to
all who trust in Him. New convictions had sunk deep into his soul; they were
not as yet arranged into a system; but in the heat of the combat they flashed
forth like lightning. Serious and daring, he showed a resolution that made
light of every obstacle. On his features might be seen the traces of the storms
his soul had encountered, and the courage with which he was prepared to meet
fresh tempests. These combatants, both sons of peasants, and the representatives
of the two tendencies that still divide Christendom, were about to enter upon a
contest on which depended, in great measure the future prospects of the State
and of the Church.
At seven in the morning the two disputants were in their
pulpits, surrounded by a numerous and attentive assembly. Luther stood up, and with a necessary precaution, he said
modestly:—
“In the name of the Lord, Amen! I declare that the respect I
bear to the sovereign pontiff would have prevented my entering upon this discussion,
if the excellent Dr. Eck had not dragged me into it.”
Eck.—” In thy name, gentle Jesus! before descending into the
lists, I protest before you, most noble lords, that all that I may say is in
submission to the judgment of the first of all sees, and of him who is its
possessor.”
After a brief silence, Eck continued:
“There is in the Church
of God a primacy that
cometh from Christ himself. The Church militant was formed in the image of the
Church triumphant. Now, the latter is a monarchy in which the hierarchy ascends
step by step up to God, its sole chief. For this reason Christ has established
a similar order upon earth. What a monster the Church would be if it were
without a head!”
Luther, turning towards the assembly.—” When Dr. Eck
declares that the universal Church must have a head, he says well. If there is
any one among us who maintains the contrary, let him stand up! As for me, it is
no concern of mine.”
Eck.—” If the Church militant has never been without a head,
I should like to know who it can be, if not the Roman pontiff?”
Luther.—” The head of the Church militant is Christ himself,
and not a man. I believe this on the testimony of God’s Word. He must reign,
says Scripture, till he hath put all enemies under his feet. Let us not listen
to those who banish Christ to the Church triumphant in heaven. His kingdom is a
kingdom of faith. We cannot see our Head, and yet we have one.”
Eck, who did not consider himself beaten, had recourse to
other arguments, and resumed:
“It is from Rome,
according to Saint Cyprian, that sacerdotal unity has proceeded.”
Luther.—” For the Western Church, I grant it. But is not
this same Roman Church the offspring of that of Jerusalem? It is the latter, properly
speaking, that is the nursing-mother of all the churches.”
Eck.— Saint Jerome
declares that if an extraordinary power, superior to all others, were not given
to the pope, there would be in the churches as many sects as there were
pontiffs.”
Luther.—” Given: that is to say, if all the rest of
believers consent to it, this power might be conceded to the chief pontiff by
human right. And I will not deny, that if all the believers in the world agree
in recognizing as first and supreme pontiff either the Bishop of Rome, or of
Paris, or of Magdeburg, we should acknowledge him as such from the respect due
to this general agreement of the Church; but that has never been seen yet, and
never will be seen. Even in our own days, does not the Greek Church refuse its
assent to Rome?”
Luther was at that time prepared to acknowledge the pope as
chief magistrate of the Church, freely elected by it; but he denied that he was
pope of Divine right. It was not till much later that he denied that submission was
in any way due to him: and this step he was led to take by the Leipsic disputation.
But Eck had ventured on ground better known to Luther than to himself. The
latter could not, indeed, maintain his thesis that the papacy had existed
during the preceding four centuries only.
Eck quoted authorities of an earlier
date, to which Luther could not reply. Criticism had not yet attacked the False
Decretals. But the nearer the discussion approached the primitive ages of the
Church, the greater was Luther’s strength. Eck appealed to the Fathers; Luther
replied to him from the Fathers, and all the bystanders were struck with his
superiority over his rival.
“That the opinions I set forth are those of Saint
Jerome,” said he, “I prove by the epistle of St.
Jerome himself to Evagrius: ‘Every bishop,’ says he, ‘whether at Rome, Eugublum, Constantinople, Rhegium, Tanis,
or Alexandria,
is partaker of the same merit and of the same priesthood. The power of riches,
the humiliation of poverty, are the only things that make a difference in the
rank of the bishops.’“
From the writings of the Fathers, Luther passed to the
decisions of the councils, which consider the Bishop of Rome as only the first
among his peers.
“We read,” said he, “in the decree of the Council of Africa,
‘The bishop of the first see shall neither be called prince of the pontiffs, nor
sovereign pontiff, nor by any other name of that kind; but only bishop of the
first see.’ If the monarchy of the Bishop of Rome was of Divine right,”
continued Luther, “would not this be an heretical injunction?”
Eck replied by one of those subtle distinctions that were so
familiar to him:—
“The bishop of Rome,
if you will have it so, is not universal bishop, but bishop of the universal
Church.”
Luther.—” I shall make no reply to this: let our hearers
form their own opinion of it.”—” Certainly,” added he directly, “this is an
explanation very worthy of a theologian, and calculated to satisfy a disputant
who thirsts for glory. It is not for nothing, is seems, that I have remained at
great expense at Leipsic, since I have learnt that the pope is not, in truth,
the universal bishop, but the bishop of the universal Church!”
Eck.—” Well then, I will come to the point. The worthy
doctor calls upon me to prove that the primacy of the Church of Rome is of
Divine right. I will prove it by this expression of Christ: Thou art Peter, and
on this rock will I build my Church. Saint
Augustine, in one of his epistles, has thus explained
the meaning of this passage ‘Thou art Peter, and on this rock (that is to say,
on Peter) I will build my Church.’ It is true that in another place the same
father has explained that by this rock we should understand Christ himself, but
he has not retracted his former exposition.”
Luther.—” If the reverend doctor desires to attack me, let
him first reconcile these contradictions in Saint Augustine. For it is most certain that
Augustine has said many times that the rock was Christ, and perhaps not more
than once that it was Peter himself. But even should Saint Augustine and all
the Fathers say that the Apostle is the rock of which Christ speaks, I would
resist them, single-handed, in reliance upon the Holy Scriptures, that is, on
Divine right; for it is written: Other foundation can no man lay than that is
laid, which is Jesus Christ. Peter himself terms Christ the chief corner-stone,
and a living stone on which we are built up a spiritual house.”
Eck.—” I am surprised at the humility and modesty with which
the reverend doctor undertakes to oppose, alone, so many illustrious Fathers,
and pretends to know more than the sovereign pontiffs, the councils, the
doctors, and the universities! It would be surprising, no doubt, if God had
hidden the truth from so many saints and martyrs—until the advent of the
reverend father!”
Luther.—” The Fathers are not against me. Saint Augustine and Saint Ambrose, both most
excellent doctors, teach as I teach. Super isto articulo fidei, fundata est
Ecclesia, says Saint Ambrose, when explaining what is meant by the rock on
which the Church is built. Let my opponent then set a curb upon his tongue. To
express himself as he does, will only serve to excite contention, and not be to
discuss like a true doctor.”
Eck had no idea that his opponent’s learning was so
extensive, and that he would be able to extricate himself from the toils that
were drawn around him. “The reverend doctor,” said he, “has come well armed
into the lists. I beg your lordships to excuse me, if I do not exhibit such
accuracy of research. I came here to discuss, and not to make a book.”— Eck was
surprised but not beaten. As he had no more arguments to adduce, he had a
recourse to a wretched and spiteful trick, which, if it did not vanquish his
antagonist, must at least embarrass him greatly. If the accusation of being
Bohemian, a heretic, a Hussite, can be fixed upon Luther, he is vanquished; for
the Bohemians were objects of abhorrence in the Church.
The scene of combat was
not far from the frontiers of Bohemia; Saxony, after the sentence pronounced on John Huss by the
Council of Constance, had been exposed to all the horrors of a long and
ruinous war; it was its boast to have resisted the Hussites at that time; the
university of Leipsic had been founded in opposition to the tendencies of John
Huss; and this discussion was going on in the presence of princes, nobles, and
citizens, whose fathers had fallen in that celebrated contest. To insinuate
that Luther and Huss are of one mind, will be to inflict a most terrible blow
on the former. It is to this stratagem that the Ingolstadt doctor now has recourse: “From the
earliest times, all good Christians have acknowledged that the Church of Rome
derives its primacy direct from Christ himself, and not from human right. I
must confess, however, that the Bohemians, while they obstinately defended
their errors, attacked this doctrine. I beg the worthy father’s pardon, if I am
an enemy of the Bohemians, because they are enemies of the Church, and if the
present discussion has called these heretics to my recollection; for, in my
humble opinion, the doctor’s conclusions are in every way favorable to these
errors. It is even asserted that the Hussites are loudly boasting of it.”
Eck had calculated well: his partisans received this
perfidious insinuation with the greatest favor. There was a movement of joy
among the audience. “These insults,” said the reformer afterwards, “tickled
them much more agreeably than the discussion itself.”
Luther.—” I do not like and I never shall like a schism.
Since on their own authority the Bohemians have separated from our unity, they
have done wrong, even if the Divine right had pronounced in favor of their
doctrines; for the supreme Divine right is charity and oneness of mind.”
It was during the morning sitting of the 5th July that
Luther had made use of this language. The meeting broke up shortly after, as it
was the hour of dinner. Luther felt ill at ease. Had he not gone too far in
thus condemning the Christians of Bohemia? Did they not hold the doctrines that
Luther is now maintaining? He saw all the difficulties of his position. Shall
he rise up against a council that condemned John Huss, or shall he deny that
sublime idea of a universal Christian Church which had taken full possession of
his mind? The unshaken Luther did not hesitate. He will do his duty, whatever
may be the consequences.
Accordingly when the assembly met again at two in the
afternoon, he was the first to speak. He said with firmness: “Among the articles of faith held by John Huss and the
Bohemians, there are some that are most christian. This is a positive
certainty. Here, for instance, is one: ‘That there is but one universal
Church;’ and here is another: ‘It is not necessary for salvation to believe the
Roman Church superior to all others.’ It is of little consequence to me whether
these things were said by Wickliffe
or by Huss… they are truth.”
Luther’s declaration produced a great sensation among his
hearers. Huss—Wickliffe—those
odious names, pronounced with approbation by a monk in the midst of a catholic
assembly! An almost general murmur ran round the hall. Duke George himself felt
alarmed. He fancied he saw that banner of civil war upraised in Saxony which had for so many years desolated the states
of his maternal ancestors. Unable to suppress his emotion, he placed his hands
on his hips, shook his head, and exclaimed aloud, so that all the assembly
heard him, “He is carried away by rage!” The whole meeting was agitated: they
rose up, each man speaking to his neighbor. Those who had given way to
drowsiness awoke. Luther’s friends were in great perplexity; while his enemies
exulted. Many who had thus far listened to him with pleasure began to entertain
doubts of his orthodoxy. The impression produced on Duke George’s mind by these
words was never effaced; from this moment he looked upon the reformer with an
evil eye, and became his enemy.
Luther did not suffer himself to be intimidated by these
murmurs. One of his principal arguments was, that the Greeks had never
recognized the pope, and yet they had never been declared heretics; that the
Greek Church had existed, still existed, and would exist, without the pope, and
that it as much belonged to Christ as the Church of Rome did. Eck, on the
contrary, impudently maintained that the Christian and the Roman Church were
one and the same; that the Greeks and Orientals, in abandoning the pope, had
also abandoned the christian faith, and were indisputably heretics. “What!”
exclaimed Luther, “are not Gregory of Naziangum, Basil the Great, Epiphanius,
Chrysostom, and an immense number besides of Greek bishops—are they not saved?
and yet they did not believe that the Church of Rome was above the other
Churches! It is not in the power of the Roman pontiffs to make new articles of
faith. The christian believer acknowledges no other authority than Holy
Scripture. This alone is the right Divine. I beg the worthy doctor to concede that
the Roman pontiffs were men, and that he will not make them gods.”
Eck then resorted to one of those jests which give a
specious air of triumph to him who employs them. “The revered father is a very poor cook,” said he; “he has
made a terrible hodge-podge
of Greek saints and heretics; so that the odor of sanctity
in the one prevents us from smelling the poison of the others.”
Luther, interrupting Eck with warmth.—” The worthy doctor is
becoming abusive. In my opinion, there can be no communion between Christ and
Belial.”
Luther had made a great stride in advance. In 1516 and 1517,
he had only attacked the sermons of the indulgence-hawkers and the scholastic
doctrines, but had respected the papal decrees. Somewhat later he had rejected
these decrees, and had appealed to a council. Now he had thrown off even this
latter authority, declaring that no council could lay down a new article of
faith, and claim to be infallible. Thus had all human authorities fallen
successively before; the sands that the rain and the torrents carry with them
had disappeared; and for rebuilding the ruined house of the Lord nothing
remained but the everlasting rock of the Word of God. “Reverend father,” said
Eck, “if you believe that a council, regularly assembled, can err, you are in
my eyes nothing better than a heathen and a publican!”
Such were the discussions that occupied the two doctors. The
assembly listened with earnestness; but their attention sometimes flagged, and
the bystanders were delighted when any incident occurred to amuse and excite
them. It often happens that the most serious matters are mixed up with others
the most ridiculous. This was the case at Leipsic.
Duke George, according to the custom of the times, had a
court-fool. Some wags said to him: “Luther maintains that a court-fool may
marry, while Eck says that he cannot.” Upon this, the fool took a great dislike
to Eck, and every time he entered the hall in the duke’s train, he looked at
the theologian with a threatening air. The Chancellor of Ingolstadt, who was
not above indulging in buffoonery, closed one eye (the fool was blind of an
eye) and with the other began to squint at the little gentleman, who, losing
his temper, overwhelmed the doctor with abuse. The whole assembly (says Peifer)
burst into laughter, and this interlude somewhat diminished the extreme tension
of their minds.
At the same time scenes were enacting in the city and in the
churches, that showed the horror inspired in the Romish partisans by Luther’s
bold assertions. It was from the convents attached to the pope’s interest that
the loudest clamors proceeded. One Sunday, the Wittenberg doctor entered the Dominican
church before high mass. There were present only a few monks repeating low mass
at the smaller altars. As soon as it was known in the cloister that the heretic
Luther was in the church, the monks ran in hastily, snatched up the
remonstrance, and carrying it to the tabernacle, there shut it up carefully,
watching over it lest the host should be profaned by the heretical eyes of the
Wittenberg Augustine. At the same time those who were reading mass hurriedly
caught up the various ornaments employed in the service, deserted the altar,
fled across the church, and took refuge in the vestry, as if, says an
historian, Satan had been at their heels.
The subject of the discussion furnished matter for
conversation in every place. In the inns, the university, and the court, each
man expressed his opinion. However great might have been Duke George’s
exasperation, he did not obstinately refuse to be convinced. One day, as Eck
and Luther were dining with him, he interrupted their conversation by saying:
“Whether the pope be pope by human or by Divine right, nevertheless, he is
pope.” Luther was much pleased at these words. “The prince,” said he, “would
never have made use of them, had he not been struck by my arguments.”
The discussion on the papal primacy had lasted five days. On
the 8th of July, they proceeded to the doctrine of Purgatory. This spread over
a little more than two days. Luther still admitted this doctrine; but denied
that it was taught in Scripture or in the Fathers in the manner that his
opponent and the schoolmen pretended. “Our Doctor Eck,” said he, alluding to
the superficial character of his adversary’s mind, “has this day skimmed over
Scripture almost without touching it—as a spider runs upon water.”
On the 11th of July they came to Indulgences. “It was a mere
joke,” said Luther; “the dispute was ridiculous. The indulgences fell outright,
and Eck was nearly of my opinion.” Eck himself said: “If I had not disputed
with Doctor Martin on the papal supremacy, I should almost have agreed with
him.”
The discussion next turned on Repentance, Absolution of the
Priest, and Satisfactions. Eck, according to his usual practice, quoted the
scholastic doctors, the Dominicans, and the pope’s canons. Luther closed the
disputation with these words: “The reverend doctor flees from the Scriptures,
as the devil from before the cross. As for me, with all due respect to the
Fathers, I prefer the authority of Holy Writ, and this test I would recommend to
our judges.”
Here ended the dispute between Eck and Luther. Carlstadt and
the Ingolstadt
doctor kept up the discussion two days longer on human merits in good works. On
the 16th of July the business was concluded, after having lasted twenty days,
by a speech from the rector of the university. As soon as he had finished, loud
music was heard, and the solemnity was concluded by singing the Te Deum.
But during the chanting of this solemn thanksgiving, men’s
minds were no longer as they had been during the Veni Spiritus at the opening
of the discussion. Already the presentiments of many had been realized. The
blows that the champions of the two doctrines had aimed at each other had
inflicted a deep wound upon the papacy.
Source: D’Aubigne, History of the Reformation of the sixteenth
Century
History of the Reformation volume 2, Book 5, chapter 5
The Leipsic Disputation
by J.A. Wylie,
The man who climbs to the summit of a mountain chain beholds
the waters that gush forth from the soil rolling down the declivity, some on
this side of the ridge and some on that. Very near to each other may lie the
birth-places of these young rivers; but how different their courses! how
dissimilar the countries which they water, and how widely apart lie the
oceans, into which they ultimately pour their floods! This difference of
destiny is occasioned by what would seem no great matter. The line of the
mountain summit runs between their sources, and hence; though their beginnings
are here, at the traveller's feet, on the same mountain-top, their endings are
parted, it may be, by hundreds of miles.
We are arrived at a similar point in the history of the two
great systems whose rise and course we are employed in tracing. We stand at the
watershed of the two theologies. We can here clearly trace the dividing line as
it runs along, parting the primeval sources of the Protestant and the Roman
theologies. These sources lie close, very close to each other, and yet the one
is on this side of the line which divides truth from error, the other is on
that; and hence the different and opposite course on which we behold each
setting out; and so far from ever meeting, the longer they flow they are but
the farther parted. The discussion at Leipsic proceeded along this line; it
was, in fact, the first distinct tracing-out and settling of this line, as the
essential and eternal boundary between the two theologies - between the Roman
and Protestant Churches.
The form which the question took was one touching the human
will. What is the moral condition of man's will? in other words, What is the
moral condition of man himself? As the will is, so is the man, for the will or
heart is but a term expressive of the final outcome of the man; it is the organ
which concentrates all the findings of his animal, intellectual, and spiritual
nature - body, mind, and soul - and sends them forth in the form of wish and
act. Is man able to choose that which is spiritually good? In other words, when
sin and holiness are put before him, and he must make his choice between the
two, will the findings of his whole nature, as summed up and expressed in his
choice, be on the side of holiness? Dr. Eck and the Roman theologians at
Leipsic maintained the affirmative, asserting that man has the power, without
aid from the Spirit of God, and simply of himself, to choose what is
spiritually good, and to obey God. Luther, Carlstadt, and the new theologians
maintained the negative, affirming that man lost this power when he fell; that
he is now morally unable to choose holiness; and that, till his nature be
renewed by the Holy Spirit, he cannot love or serve God.
This question, it is necessary to remark, is not one
touching the freedom of man. About this there is no dispute. It is admitted on
both sides, the Popish and Protestant, that man is a free agent. Man can make a
choice; there is neither physical nor intellectual constraint upon his will,
and having made his choice he can act conformably to it. This constitutes man a
moral and responsible agent. But the question is one touching the moral ability
of the will. Granting our freedom of choice, have we the power to choose good?
Will the perceptions, bias, and desires of our nature, as summed up and
expressed by the will, be on the side of holiness as holiness? They will not,
says the Protestant theology, till the nature is renewed by the Holy Spirit.
The will may be physically free, it may be intellectually free, and yet, by
reason of the bias to sin and aversion to holiness which the Fall planted in
the heart, the will is not morally free; it is dominated over by its hatred of
holiness and love of sin, and will not act in the way of preferring holiness
and loving God, till it be rid of the spiritual incapacity which hatred of what
is good inflicts upon it.
But let us return to the combatants in the arena at Leipsic.
Battle has
already been joined, and we find the disputants stationed beside the deepest
sources of the respective theologies, only half conscious of the importance of
the ground they occupy, and the far-reaching consequences of the propositions
for which they are respectively to fight.
"Man's will before his conversion," says
Carlstadt, "can perform no good work. Every good work comes entirely and
exclusively from God, who gives to man first the will to do, and then the power
of accomplishing." Such was the proposition maintained at one end of the
hall. It was a very old proposition, though it seemed new when announced in the
Pleisenberg hall, having been thoroughly obscured by the schoolmen. The
Reformers could plead Augustine's authority in behalf of their proposition;
they could plead a yet greater authority, even that of Paul. The apostle had
maintained this proposition both negatively and positively. He had described
the "carnal mind" as "enmity against God;" (Romans 8:7, 8)
He had spoken of the understanding as "darkness," and of men as
"alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that is in
them." This same doctrine he had put also in the positive form. "It
is God that worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure."
(Philippians 2:13)
Our Savior has laid down a great principle which amounts to this, that corrupt human
nature by itself can produce nothing but what is corrupt, when he said, "That which is born of the flesh is flesh." (John
3:6) And the same great principle is asserted, with equal clearness, though in
figurative language, when he says, "A corrupt tree cannot bring forth good
fruit." And were commentary needed to bring out the full meaning of this
statement, we have it in the personal application which the apostle makes of it
to himself. "For I know that in me [that is, in my flesh] dwelleth no good
thing." (Romans 7:18) If then man's whole nature be corrupt, said the
Reformer, nothing but what is corrupt can proceed from him, till he be
quickened by the Spirit of God. Antecedently to the operations of the Spirit
upon his understanding and heart, he lacks the moral power of loving and
obeying God, and of effecting anything that may really avail for his
deliverance and salvation; and he who can do nothing for himself must owe all
to God.
At the other end of the hall, occupying the pulpit over
which was suspended the representation of St. George and the dragon, rose the
tall portly form of Dr. Eck. With stentorian voice and animated gestures, he
repudiates the doctrine which has just been put forth by Carlstadt. Eck admits
that man is fallen, that his nature is corrupt, but he declines to define the
extent of that corruption; he maintains that it is not universal, that his
whole nature is not corrupt, that man has the power of doing some things that
are spiritually good; and that, prior to the action of God's Spirit upon his
mind and heart, man can do works which have a certain kind of merit, the merit
of congruity even; and God rewards these good works done in the man's own
strength, with grace by which he is able to do what still remains of the work
of his salvation.
The combatants at the one end of the hall fight for
salvation by grace - grace to the entire exclusion of human merit: salvation of
God. The combatants at the other end fight for salvation by works, a salvation
beginning in man's own efforts and good works, and these efforts and good works
running along the whole line of operation; and though they attract to them
supernatural grace, and make it their yoke-fellow as it were, yet themselves
substantially and meritoriously do the work. This is salvation of man.
If rite doctrine of the corruption of man's whole nature be
true, if he has lost the power of choosing what is spiritually good, and doing
work spiritually acceptable to God, the Protestant divines were right. If he
retains this power, the Roman theologians were on the side of truth. There is
no middle position.
Thus the controversy came to rage around this one point -
Has the Will the power to choose and to do what is spiritually good? This, they
said, was the whole controversy between Romanism and Protestantism. All the
lines of argument on both sides flowed out of, or ran up into, this one point.
It was the greatest point of all in theology viewed on the side of man; and
according as it was to be decided, Romanism is true and Protestantism is false,
or Protestantism is true and Romanism is false.
"I acknowledge," said Eck, who felt himself
hampered in this controversy by opinions favorable to the doctrine of grace
which, descending from the times of Augustine, and maintained though
imperfectly and inconsistently by some of the schoolmen, had lingered in the
Church of Rome till now - "I acknowledge that the first impulse in man's
conversion proceeds from God, and that the will of man in this instance is
entirely passive."
"Then," asked Carlstadt, who thought that he had
won the argument, "after this first impulse which proceeds from God, what
follows on the part of man? Is it not that which Paul denominates will, and
which the Fathers entitle consent?"
"Yes," answered the Chancellor of Ingolstadt,
"but this consent of man comes partly from our natural will and partly
from God's grace" - thus recalling what he appeared to have granted;
making man a partner with God in the origination of will or first act of choice
in the matter of his salvation, and so dividing with God the merit of the work.
"No," responded Carlstadt, "this consent or
act of will comes entirely from God; he it is who creates it in the man."
Offended at a doctrine which so completely took away from
man all cause of glorifying, Eck, feigning astonishment and anger, exclaimed,
"Your doctrine converts a man into a stone or log, incapable of any
action."The apostle had expressed it better: "dead in
trespasses and sins." Yet he did not regard those in that condition whom
he addressed as a stone or a log, for he gave them the motives to believe, and
held them guilty before God should they reject the Gospel.
A log or a stone! it was answered from Carlstadt's end of
the hall. Does our doctrine make man such? does it reduce him to the level of
an irrational animal? By no means. Can he not meditate and reflect, compare and
choose? Can he not read and understand the statements of Scripture declaring to
him in what state he is sunk, that he is "without strength," and
bidding him ask the aid of the Spirit of God? If he ask, will not that Spirit
be given? will not the light of truth be made to shine into his understanding?
and by the instrumentality of the truth, will not his heart be renewed by the
Spirit, his moral bias against holiness taken away, and he become able to love
and obey God? In man's capacity to become the subject of such a change, in his
possessing such a framework of powers and faculties as, when touched by the
Spirit, can be set in motion in the direction of good, is there not, said the Reformers,
sufficient to distinguish man from a log, a stone, or an irrational animal?
The Popish divines on this head have ignored a distinction
on which Protestant theologians have always and justly laid great stress, the
distinction between the rational and the spiritual powers of man. Is it not matter of experience, the Romanists have argued,
that men of themselves - that is, by the promptings and powers of their
unrenewed nature - have done good actions? Does not ancient history show us
many noble, generous, and virtuous achievements accomplished by the heathen?
Did they not love and die for their country? All enlightened Protestant
theologians have most cheerfully granted this. Man even unrenewed by the Spirit
of God may be truthful, benevolent, loving, patriotic; and by the exercise of
these qualities, he may invest his own character with singular gracefulness and
glory, and to a very large degree benefit his species. But the question here is
one regarding a higher good, even that which the Bible denominates holiness -
"without which no man can see God" - actions done conformably to the
highest standard, which is the Divine law, and from the motive of the highest
end, which is the glory of God. Such actions, the Protestant theology teaches,
can come only from a heart purified by faith, and quickened by the Spirit of
God.
On the 4th of July, Luther stepped down into the arena. He
had obtained permission to be present on condition of being simply a spectator;
but, at the earnest solicitations of both sides, Duke George withdrew the
restriction, and now he and Eck are about to join battle. At seven o'clock in
the morning the two champions appeared in their respective pulpits, around
which were grouped the friends and allies of each. Eck wore a courageous and
triumphant air, claiming to have borne off the palm from Carlstadt, and it was
generally allowed that he had proved himself the abler disputant. Luther
appeared with a nosegay in his hand, and a face still bearing traces of the
terrible storms through which he had passed. The former discussion had thinned
the hall; it was too abstruse and metaphysical for the spectators to appreciate
its importance. Now came mightier champions, and more palpable issues. A crowd
filled the Pleisenberg hall, and looked on while the two giants contended.
It was understood that the question of the Pope's primacy
was to be discussed between Luther and Eck. The Reformer's emancipation from
this as from other parts of the Romish system had been gradual. When he began
the war against the indulgence-mongers, he never doubted that so soon as the
matter should come to the knowledge of the Pope and the other dignitaries, they
would be as forward as himself to condemn the monstrous abuse. To his
astonishment, he found them throwing their shield over it, and arguing from
Scripture in a way that convinced him that the men whom he had imagined as
sitting in a region of serene light, were in reality immersed in darkness. This
led him to investigate the basis of the Roman primacy, and soon he came to the conclusion that it
had no foundation whatever in either the early Church or in the Word of God. He
denied that the Pope was head of the Church by Divine right, though he was
still willing to grant that he was head of the Church by human right - that is,
by the consent of the nations.
Eck opened the discussion by affirming that the Pope's
supremacy was of Divine appointment. His main proof, as it is that of Romanists
to this hour, was the well-known passage, "Thou art Peter, and on this rock
will I build my church." Luther replied, as Protestants at this day reply,
that it is an unnatural interpretation of the words to make Peter the rock;
that their natural and obvious sense is, that the truth Peter had just
confessed - in other words Christ himself - is the rock; that Augustine and
Ambrose had so interpreted the passage, and that therewith agree the express
declarations of Scripture - "Other foundation can no man lay than that is
laid, which is Jesus Christ;" (1 Corinthians 3:11) and that Peter himself
terms Christ "the chief corner-stone, and a living stone on which we are
built up a spiritual house."
It is unnecessary to go into the details of the disputation.
The line of argument, so often traversed since that day, has become very familiar
to Protestants. But we must not overlook the perspicacity and courage of the
man who first opened the path, nor the wisdom which taught him to rely so
confidently on the testimony of Scripture, nor the independence by which he was
able to emancipate himself from the trammels of a servitude sanctioned by the
submission of ages.
Luther in this disputation labored under the disadvantage of
having to confront numerous quotations from the false decretals. That gigantic
forgery, which forms so large a part of the basis of the Roman primacy, had not
then been laid bare; nevertheless, Luther looking simply at the internal
evidence, in the exercise of his intuitive sagacity, boldly pronounced the
evidence produced against him from this source spurious. He even retreated to
his stronghold, the early centuries of Christian history, and especially the
Bible, in neither of which was proof or trace of the Pope's supremacy to be
discovered.
When the doctor of Ingolstadt
found that despite his practiced logic, vast reading, and ready eloquence, he
was winning no victory, and that all his arts were met and repelled by the
simple massive strength, knowledge of Scripture, and familiarity with the
Fathers which the monk of Wittemberg displayed, he was not above a discreditable
ruse. He essayed to raise a prejudice against Luther by charging him with being
"a patron of the heresies of Wicliffe and Huss." The terrors of such
an accusation, we in this age can but faintly realize. The doctrines of Huss
and Jerome still lay under great odium in the West; and Eck hoped to overwhelm
Luther by branding him with the stigma of Bohemianism. The excitement in the
hall was immense when the charge was hurled against him; and Duke George and
many of the audience half rose from their seats, eager to catch the reply.
Luther well knew the peril in which Eck had placed him, but
he was faithful to his convictions. "The Bohemians," he said,
"are schismatics; and I strongly reprobate schism: the supreme Divine
right is charity and unity. But among the articles of John Huss condemned by
the Council of Constance, some are plainly most Christian and evangelical,
which the universal Church cannot condemn." Eck had unwittingly done
both Luther and the Reformation a service. The blow which he meant should be a
mortal one had severed the last link in the Reformer's chain. Luther had
formerly repudiated the primacy of the Pope, and appealed from the Pope to a
Council. Now he publicly accuses a Council of having condemned what was
"Christian" - in short, of having erred. It was clear that the
infallible authority of Councils, as well as that of the Pope, must be given
up. Henceforward Luther
stands upon the authority of Scripture alone.
The gain to the Protestant movement from the Leipsic
discussion was great. Duke George, frightened by the charge of Bohemianism, was
henceforward its bitter enemy. There were others who were incurably prejudiced
against it. But these losses were more than balanced by manifold and
substantial gains. The views of Luther were henceforward clearer. The cause got
a broader and firmer foot-hold. Of those who sat on the benches, many became
its converts. The students especially were attracted by Luther, and forsaking
the University of
Leipsic, flocked to that
of Wittemberg.
Some names, that afterwards were among the
brightest in the ranks of the Reformers, were at this time enrolled on the
evangelical side - Poliander, Cellarius, the young Prince of Anhalt, Cruciger,
and last and greatest of all, Melancthon. Literature heretofore had occupied
the intellect and filled the heart of this last distinguished man, but now,
becoming as a little child, he bowed to the authority of the Word of God, and
dedicating all his erudition to the Protestant cause, he began to expound the
Gospel with that sweetness and clearness which were so peculiarly his own.
Luther loved him before, but from this time he loved him more than ever.
Luther
and Melancthon were true yoke-fellows; they were not so much twain as one; they
made up between them a perfect agent for the times and the work. How admirably
has Luther hit this off! "I was born," said he, "to contend on
the field of battle with factions and wicked spirits. It is my task to uproot
the stock and the stem, to clear away the briars and the underwood. I am the
rough workman who has to prepare the way and smooth the road. But Philip
advances quietly and softly. He tills and plants the ground; sows and waters it
joyfully, according to the gifts which God has given him with so liberal a
hand."
The war at Leipsic, then, was no affair of outposts merely.
It raged round the very citadel of the Roman system. The first assault was
directed against that which emphatically is the key of the Roman position, its
deepest foundation as a theology - namely, man's independence of the grace of
God. For it is on the doctrine of man's ability to begin and - with the help of
a little supplemental grace, conveyed to him through the sole channel of the
Sacraments - to accomplish his salvation, that Rome builds her scheme of works, with all its
attendant penances, absolutions, and burdensome rites. The second blow was
struck at that dogma which is the corner-stone of Rome as a hierarchy - the Pope's primacy.
The Reformers strove to overthrow both, that they might
substitute - for the first, GOD, as the sole Author of man's salvation; and for
the second, CHRIST as the sole Monarch of the Church.
Luther returned from Leipsic a freer, a nobler, and a more
courageous man. The fetters of Papalism had been rent. He stood erect in the
liberty wherewith the Gospel makes all who receive and follow it free. He no longer bowed to Councils;
he no longer did reverence to the "chair" set up at Rome, and to which the ages had listened,
believing the voice that proceeded from it to be the voice of God. Luther now
acknowledged no infallible guide on earth save the Bible. From this day
forward there was a greater power in every word and a greater freedom in every
act of the Reformer.
Once more in the midst of his friends at Wittemberg, Luther's
work was resumed. Professors and students soon felt the new impetus derived
from the quickened and expanded views which the Reformer had brought back with
him from his encounter with Eck.
He had discarded the mighty fiction of the primacy; lifting his
eyes above the throne that stood on the Seven Hills, with its triple-crowned
occupant, he fixed them on that King whom God hath set upon the holy hill of
Zion. In the living and risen Redeemer, to whom all power in heaven and in
earth has been given, he recognized the one and only Head of the Church. This
brought with it an expansion of view as regarded the Church herself. The Church
in Luther's view was no longer that community over which the Pope stretches his
scepter. The Church was that holy and glorious company which has been gathered
out of every land by the instrumentality of the Gospel. On all the members of
that company one Spirit has descended, knitting them together into one body,
and building them up into a holy temple. The narrow walls of Rome, which had
aforetime bounded his vision, were now fallen; and the Reformer beheld nations
from afar who had never heard of the name of the Pope, and who had never borne
his yoke, gathering, as the ancient seer had foretold, to the Shiloh. This was
the Church to which Luther had now come, and of which he rejoiced in being a
member.
The drama is now about to widen, and new actors are about to
step upon the stage. Those who form the front rank, the originating and
creative spirits, the men whose words, more powerful than edicts and armies,
are passing sentence of doom upon the old order of things, and bidding a new
take its place, are already on the scene. We recognize them in that select band
of enlightened and powerful intellects and purified souls at Wittemberg, of
whom Luther was chief. But the movement must necessarily draw into itself the
political and material forces of the world, either in the way of co-operation
or of antagonism. These secondary agents, often mistaken for the first, were
beginning to crowd upon the stage. They had contemned the movement at its
beginning - the material always under-estimates the spiritual - but now they
saw that it was destined to change kingdoms-to change the world. Mediaevalism took the alarm.
Shall it permit its dominion quietly to pass from it? Reviving in a power and
glory unknown to it since the days of Charlemagne, if even then, it threw down
the gage of battle to Protestantism. Let us attend to the new development we
see taking place, at this crisis, in this old power.
Nothing more unfortunate, as it seemed, could have happened
for the cause of the world's progress. All things were prognosticating a new
era. The revival of ancient learning had given an impetus to the human mind. A
spirit of free inquiry and a thirst for rational knowledge had been awakened;
society was casting off the yoke of antiquated prejudices and terrors. The
world was indulging the cheering hope that it was about to make good its escape
from the Dark Ages. But, lo! the Dark Ages start up anew. They embody
themselves afresh in the mighty Empire of Charles. It is a general law,
traceable through all history that before their fall a rally takes place in the
powers of evil.
Source: Wylie, J.A. History of Protestantism
Volume 1, book 5, chapter 15
Chapter 15: The Leipsic Disputation
