As we look back on 2011, the “Arab Spring” stands testament to the power of social media. Facebook and Twitter, and other social media sites helped unite and focus a growing distaste for autocratic state power. The revolutions in Egypt and Libya, Syria and elsewhere were fostered and furthered by means of social media.
The Japanese tsunami and earthquake, also gave evidence to the speed of social media. Some were alerted to the earthquake via speedy social media — spreading faster than the earthquake and its deadly wave.
It seems we are living in a brave new world of social media. But it turns out that the power of social media isn’t really all that new. A recent article in The Economist reminds us that social media and its power to foster social revolutions is no new thing. In a fascinating article, “How Luther went viral: Five centuries before Facebook and the Arab spring, social media helped bring about the Reformation,” we are reminded that the printed pamphlet and the cartoon — both in their infancy as media in the early 1500s — were tools used to unite those discontented with the Roman papal system. Luther would have been silenced like so many other would-be reformers that preceded him, were it not for the rapid-fire spread of printed pamphlets and public sentiment in his favor.
Similarly, in our day, the last five to ten years has seen the internet, and blogging in particular, unite those discontented with the problems of Christian fundamentalism. No longer can pastors mold and shape their congregation’s opinion about anything without fear of having their facts checked by a quick Google search. The internet brings us closer to the world of ideas, and closer to other Christian communities too. No longer is John MacArthur some distant radio personality that our pastor warns us about — we can download his messages online and realize that his ministry isn’t as dangerous as our fundamentalist pastor has warned.
While social media can certainly be used for evil, and while the nature of social media can encourage sinful behaviors (gossip, hateful speech, and lack of discernment among many others), it nevertheless remains a powerful tool to be used for good. Just as Luther seized the opportunity provided him via the “social media” of his day, we Christians should take every opportunity to wield this new tool for the advancement of Christ’s Kingdom.
As I look forward to 2012, I hope to continue to expend some of my energies in this realm for the good of the Church next year and in the years to come. I’m also thankful for the many other exemplary Christian bloggers who have extended their influence into the this arena and are speaking truth to a watching world.
I’ve been paging through a new book from Concordia Publishing House, Lutheranism 101. It’s a light-hearted yet informative look at all the ins and outs of Lutheranism. I came across a description of “the most recognized symbol for Luthernaism” — Luther’s seal. I guess this is proof positive that I don’t know much about Lutheranism since I never even knew Martin Luther had a seal.
Anyways, the explanation that Luther gives for his seal is interesting and I thought my readers would find it intriguing as well. So here is an excerpt from Lutheranism 101 about Luther’s Seal. The seal is pictured on the cover of this book in the image above.
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Martin Luther’s seal is easily the most recognized symbol for Lutheranism, and for good reason. In Luther’s day it was common practice for prominent members of the community to have a personal seal or coat of arms. The symbolism on the seal would tell others something about the person, what they did or believed. Through his bold preaching and teaching about the Word of God, Martin Luther had become well-known. So it was that while Luther was at Coburg Castle in 1530, Duke John Frederick, the Electoral Prince of Saxony, made an order for the creation of a seal that was meant to express Luther’s theology. Luther’s seal is rich with symbols and color. In a letter to a friend, Luther explained the symbolism of his seal.
“Grace and peace in Christ! Honorable, kind, gentleman and friend,
Since you are keen to know whether or not your example of my seal hit the mark, let me share with you in a friendly way some of my preliminary thoughts regarding the elements of my seal that I want to fashion as a kind of trademark for my theology.
The first element should be a cross, black within the heart. That is the color that it should naturally have, by which I can remind myself that faith in the Crucified One makes us into saved people. One becomes justified according to what one believes in the heart.
Now, about why it is a black cross, it should put the flesh to death; it should hurt. But leave the heart in its proper color [red]. This is because through the cross, the human nature does not decay. The cross does not kill off the human nature altogether; rather, it preserves the human nature in new life. The just person shall live by faith, but only by faith in the Crucified One.
But this heart should be located in the middle of a white rose to show that faith gives joy, comfort, and peace. It immediately sets [the believer] into the midst of a white, joyful rose, not like the peace and joy that the world offers. That is why the rose should be white, not red. White is the color of the spirits and all angels.
This rose is set within a sky-colored field, because this joy that is comprehended in spirit and faith, this joy that is now grasped in hope but not yet openly revealed, is the beginning of the heavenly joy to come.
And around this field is a golden ring, because salvation in heaven endures forever; it has no end. It is more precious than all other kinds of joy and wealth, just as gold is the most noble, most precious of all ores.
May Christ our dear Lord be with your spirit, even unto that heavenly life to come. Amen! [See Luther’s Works. American Edition volume 49:356-359]
The title of a new book by James Payton is sure to raise some eyebrows: Getting the Reformation Wrong: Correcting Some Misunderstandings. This new book from Inter-Varsity Press does more than merely challenge long held assumptions. In 272 short pages, it provides a comprehensive and accessible overview of the Protestant Reformation.
As someone who looks favorably on Reformed theology, I was somewhat skeptical going into this book. But Payton’s calm and careful approach won me over. He adds meat to the skeletal concepts many have of the Reformation. And along the way upholds the basic Protestant view that the Reformation was a good thing. He does correct some misunderstandings, however. He gives a lesson in Church history to challenge conservative, evangelical Protestants in some needed ways.
The book starts out with an explanation of how the study of history has advanced over the years. Historians are consciously aware of their self prejudices today, as they attempt to uncover what actually happened in the past. In the past, authors often erred in trying to see past eras too much through the lenses of their current age, or else they mistakenly thought pure objectivity was attainable through modernistic rationalism. Payton shows how the initial studies of the Reformation had some clear deficiencies, even though many of the findings from that era of scholarship are still parroted in many circles, both in the church and in the classroom, today. He aims to bring fresh discoveries from decades of research into the original documents of the period to light, and set the record straight while holding up contemporary views of the Reformation to close scrutiny.
He goes on to give a masterful treatment of the medieval background to the Reformation, as well as the connection it has with the Renaissance. He shows how from all quarters in the church, a strong call for reform was raised in the years preceding the Reformation. Reformatio in capite et membris — “reform in head and members” was the clarion call. This was hastened along by the dreadful scourge of the bubonic plague and how the clergy often would desert their posts in fear of the coming devastation. In his discussion of the Renaissance, he disproves a widely held notion that the Renaissance was a human-centered movement for reform, whereas the Reformation was God-centered. This myth comes from a misunderstanding of the term “humanism” when referring to the movement to study the classic literature of ages past as the best way to learn helpful lessons for the problems of the day. In part this was a reaction to the medieval scholasticism which emphasized philosophy to the neglect of more practical sciences. Humanism was the birth of liberal arts studies. But like everything else in Europe in the 14 and 1500s, it was very much compatible with deep-seated religious faith. In fact the Reformation very much grew out of this renewed zeal for studying the humanities, as Payton explains:
By the Diet of Augsburg in 1530, all but one of the more than thirty Protestant religious leaders in the Lutheran camp had been trained in northern Christian humanism. Similarly, all those who became leaders in the nascent Reformed movement (following Zwingli in Zurich, Bucer in Strasbourg, and Oecolampadius in Basel) had been devoted adherents of the northern Renaissance. It is no exaggeration to state that, aside from Luther himself, the leadership of the Reformation was in the hands of northern Christian humanists. (pg. 70)
Payton next explains the rise of the Reformation focusing on Luther. He dispels the myth that Luther’s theology was fully developed when he nailed the 95 Theses on the Wittenburg Church door. He shows how Luther and what became his movement, was carried along by numerous misunderstandings. People saw what they wanted to in Luther. And Luther was growing in his own understandings too. Luther was backed as a hero by discontent peasants, many of whom rebelled in a lawless, bloody riot. He was backed by princes and land-owners who saw his views as a way to gain autonomy and ascendancy. All of this was used in God’s providence to spur on the growth of the Reformation movement and give it freedom to grow until it was too large to stop.
Many aspects of life in the 1500s are brought to life through Payton’s book. Particularly important is his discussion of the peculiar challenges to life in medieval cities. Luther’s distance from city life may have influenced his strong law-gospel antithesis and emphasis on the two distinct kingdoms of Church and State. The Law shouldn’t impact life in the State. But other early reformers, such as Zwingli, Bucer and Oecolampadius “laid heavy emphasis on the transformation of society; social ethics was a prime consideration for them” because they were each leading pastors of a struggling city (pg. 106). Another aspect he illuminates is scholastic thought, in which various theologians (and Luther held the privileged Doctor of Theology degree) would build a coherent logical system of thought from one principle idea. Luther did this with justification by faith, and this primary idea influenced his view of law and the two-kingdom approach to society. It also slowed his pace of reform, as he was reluctant to go on to more conforming of church practice to Scripture until everyone thoroughly absorbed the first principle of grace.
After explaining how the early Reformers had various conflicts which kept them apart, the book goes on to challenge popular misconceptions of the Reformation ideas of Sola Fide and Sola Scriptura. He explains how faith was lauded as the sole ground of our justification. The Reformers were unified in this tenant, which is still the predominant Protestant view today. He points out how the Reformers also insisted that faith always is accompanied by works, however. He offers several substantiating quotes, but this one by Zwingli from his book An Exposition of the Faith (1530) is my favorite: “Where there is true faith, works necessarily result, just as fire necessarily brings with it heat.” In discussing this point, Payton takes on a widespread problem in the evangelical church today. Payton explains:
This notion of solitary faith nonetheless has led many pastors and evangelists to call their hearers… to be sure they can recount the date and the hour when.. they “prayed the sinner’s prayer’ and thus were eternally saved, no matter what they might do in the rest of their lives. This calls people to rely on a spiritual birth certificate to know they are alive; the Reformers called them to live…. Justification sola fide has nothing to do with a call to such solitary faith. This is one of the most glaring and striking ways of getting the Reformation wrong. For the Reformers, justification is by faith alone, but faith is never alone. (pg. 131)
The misconception Payton attacks regarding Sola Scriptura centers on: “A simplistic ‘Scripture good, tradition bad’ notion” (pg. 133). He shows how the Reformers urged the Scripture as the primary authority but did not spurn other sources of authority. Luther summarized his entire program by urging, “Back to the Bible, to Augustine and to the church fathers!” (pg. 138). The Reformers were scholars of the church fathers and took pains to show their teaching as supported by the church fathers. They viewed the era of the early fathers as the “golden age” of church history, actually. He uses this point to challenge the evangelical neglect of the church fathers and of church history in general. Let me quote some of his conclusion on this point:
For the Reformers, sola scriptura found its boundaries in the faithful teaching of the church fathers, the ancient creeds and the doctrinal decrees of the ecumenical councils. Exposition of Scripture which remained within those limits could be expansive and imaginitive. However, to wander outside those limits and produce something “new” was for the Reformers not the mark of someone reading Scripture responsibly and using its authority rightly. How often, though, do Christians in the contemporary world hear about the allegedly scriptural “principle of seed faith” used to invite investment in a ministry? And what about “green prosperity prayer cloths” or the “health and wealth” gospel? None of these (nor similar aberrations) find any support whatsoever from the Protestant Reformation’s material principle of sola scriptura. (pg. 159)
After a treatment of the counter-Reformation which highlights some of the positive changes to the Roman Catholic church brought about by the Reformation age (while still not neglecting the negative reactions against evangelical beliefs from the Council of Trent), and after a treatment on the many-headed ana-Baptist movement (which he argues is not directly related to the Baptists of today), Payton goes on to critique the years following the Reformation. He sees the Reformer’s successors’ return to scholasticism and Aristotlean logic as a way to defend the newly recovered faith as largely a failure. He sees the systematization of the faith as necessarily losing some of the actual life of the Biblical faith of the Reformers. He points out how sin became defined as an infraction of God’s law, whereas the Reformers first saw it as “unfaithfulness toward God and estrangement from him” (pg. 208). Payton elaborates on the difference between the Reformers and their scholastic heirs on another topic, that of faith:
Under Protestant scholasticism, faith was depersonalized to the acceptance of right doctrine–which could be objectively and convincingly laid out for others to see. For the Reformers, though, faith was first and foremost personal bonding to God–cleaving to him, assured of his loving embrace. Again, these two conceptions of faith need not exclude each other; the important issue is which one receives the chief place…. (pg. 208)
Payton doesn’t stop where he could, but digs in even deeper to challenge how we should view the Reformation. Was it a success? He documents the Reformers’ own disappointment with the movements of their day. He also shows how the infighting in Protestantism gave way to bloodshed and warfare even, and how some errors like unitarianism found avenues to come to light through the rise of Protestantism. He cautions against viewing any era as a “golden age” and urges a recovery of the study of the church fathers. He also challenges the disunity and fighting which characterizes so much of Protestantism today: “It is at least a horrendous anomaly that the sixteenth-century Reformation got rid of the clutter that obscured the foundation of the Christian faith, only to have Protestants cover that foundation again with the clutter of our manifold division.” (pg. 256-257)
Payton spares no punches, and his book presents numerous challenges to today’s evangelical Christianity. Yet he brings the world of the Reformation to light, and gives life to that era of history. He shows how we shouldn’t revere that time as a magical age of impossible heroes; rather they should be seen with their failures and flaws, and be imitated to the degree that they remained faithful to the truth.
One will not agree with all of Payton’s emphases and may disagree with some of his claims. But Getting the Reformation Wrong will certainly encourage a critical engagement with the Reformation. My hope is that I’ll get it right. I applaud Payton’s zeal for the truth and his insightful analysis of many of our contemporary blind-spots. A careful reading of his book will help us see ourselves more clearly, and may help us achieve a needed Reformation of today’s church. May God be pleased to grant that!
Disclaimer: This book was provided by Inter-Varsity Press for review. I was under no obligation to offer a favorable review.
The Christianity that shapes our world today, was profoundly influenced by the Reformation — Roman Catholicism as much as evangelical Protestantism. For conservative evangelicals who prize the notion of sola Scriptura (Scripture alone), the Reformation represents a great restoration of the importance of Scripture and a revival of the true and saving doctrine of justification by faith on the basis of the merits of Christ alone, and by God’s free grace.
Any study of the Reformation does well to focus on the many documents and books written in that era. Some of the truly great Christian writings hail from that era. Luther’s commentary on Galations, and Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion deserve the attention of Christians of our own era as much as they shaped those in the midst of the Reformation. But there are scores of additional writings by other lesser known figures of that time, which do much to open our understanding of what actually was happening in that time, now nearly 500 years ago.
A Reformation Reader, edited by Denis Janz, brings these lesser known documents, and figures, to light. Zwingli’s Swiss Reformation work and writings; the Anabaptist movement and their writings — most notably the the Schleitheim Confession; and the English reformers Cranmer and Cromwell all are illuminated through Janz’s inclusion of key documents and insights into their role in the Reformation era. The context of the Reformation is made more vivid and clear by his inclusion of pre-Reformation Catholic authors and sentiments, and a discussion of the counter Reformation and the Catholic Council of Trent.
Janz introduces each section with a brief introduction to that segment of the Reformation. The pre-Reformation, Luther, Calvin, Swiss Reformation, Anabaptist movement, English Reformation and the counter Reformation movements are all represented. Janz brings up various scholarly disputes in how to interpret the Reformation. He does a good job staying neutral and explaining what the questions are. He presents documents that are able to challenge both viewpoints, and he encourages a study of the texts themselves.
This book includes a wide array of material. It certainly would serve well as a text book for covering the history of that era. The role of women in society in that day is explored alongside the other more typical theological disputes. Janz includes the writings of female characters throughout the book to serve that goal.
The book is more than a textbook, however. It provides a fascinating amount of material for the average Christian lay reader to explore. I enjoyed the historical perspective and the inclusion of many of the original writings of the key players in the Reformation. Most readers today don’t acquaint themselves with historical writings of that era, and so the selections from Calvin’s Institutes and Luther’s writings, for instance, allows for a first encounter with some of the key leaders in the Church’s history. It is hoped that this book will spur on its readers to desire a deeper reading of the classic writings of the Christian faith. I know it has done that for me.
I will point out just a few of the many interesting selections I enjoyed here. They are selections from Thomas a Kempis’ The Imitation of Christ, Erasmus’ The Abbot and the Learned Lady, some of the actual indulgences of the era of Luther, Luther’s 95 Theses, Luther’s Preface to the New Testament, Zwingli’s Of Freedom of Choice in the Selection of Food, Zwingli’s 67 Theses, the Anabaptist Schleitheim Confession, an autobiographical account of Calvin’s life, letters and judgment concerning Servetus, and Thomas Cranmer’s Preface to the Great Bible.
I highly recommend this book, and the study of this important time in Christian history.
Disclaimer: This book was provided by the publisher for review. I was under no obligation to offer a favorable review.
This book is available for purchase at the following sites: Amazon.com or direct from Fortress Press.
This is the second part of a review of John Piper’s The Legacy of Sovereign Joy: God’s Triumphant Grace in the Lives of Augustine, Luther, and Calvin. Piper’s book is less a detailed biography and more a pastoral treatment of the lives of great saints. Augustine, Luther and Calvin—great men indeed in the history of the Church—yet each is human, and Piper shows us how they ticked, and why their lives shined for Christ.
Each of these men had flaws. We looked briefly at Augustine’s in part 1, and we cannot escape Luther’s. But God’s grace met these flawed men in such a way as to transform the world through them. With God still moving today, we can look to the lives of these men and find hope that God may stoop to use us, frail and human though we be.
Luther
Luther was a passionate and very emotional man. He lived in a harsh world, and was hounded on all sides as he helped lead one of the world’s true and great reformations. Perhaps this explains Luther’s harsh tongue. At times crude and almost vulgar, Luther knew how to use his tongue, and how to put his words down on paper. Piper does not try to explain away Luther’s tendency to be mean with his opponents, and he rightly calls “Luther’s sometimes malicious anti-Semitism” as “an inexcusable contradiction of the Gospel he preached” (Legacy, pg. 31).
Yet for all of Luther’s faults, he singlehandedly gave us the Reformation. And central to the Reformation stands the authority of the Bible, unfettered by church tradition. Luther in many ways recovered the true Scripture, which had been lost and obscured through Roman tradition and general neglect.
Luther prized Scripture since “the Holy Spirit himself and God…is the Author of this book” (quoted in Legacy, pg.78). He further said, “The Word of God is the greatest, most necessary, and most important thing in Christendom” (quoted in Legacy, pg. 79). The following comments on Psalm 119 show why Luther felt this way:
In this psalm David always says that he will speak, think, talk, hear, read, day and night and constantly—but about nothing else than God’s Word and Commandments. For God wants to give you His Spirit only through the external Word. (quoted in Legacy, pg. 78)
Piper draws from Luther’s emphasis on the Word, as well as his example of rigorous study of the Word, and encourages pastors to be students of Scripture:
The Word of God that saves and sanctifies, from generation to generation, is preserved in a book. And therefore at the heart of every pastor’s work is bookwork. Call it reading, meditation, reflection, cogitation, study, exegesis, or whatever you will—a large and central part of our work is to wrestle God’s meaning from a book, and then to proclaim it in the power of the Holy Spirit. (Piper in Legacy, pg. 79).
As one who preached often 2 or more times a day, Luther has much to say to today’s pastor. And Piper distills six primary lessons for the Pastor and his study from Luther’s life.
Luther came to elevate the biblical text itself far above the teachings of commentators or church fathers.
This radical focus on the text of Scripture itself with secondary literature in secondary place leads Luther to an intense and serious grappling with the very words of Paul and the other biblical writers.
The power and preciousness of what Luther saw when he “beat importunately” upon Paul’s language convinced him forever that reading Greek and Hebrew was one of the greatest privileges and responsibilities of the Reformation preacher.
Luther employed extraordinary diligence in spite of tremendous obstacles.
For Luther, trials make a theologian. Temptation and affliction are the hermeneutical touchstones.
Key to Luther are prayer and reverent dependence on the all-sufficiency of God. And here the theology and methodology of Luther become almost identical.
This last point is key. For all the emphasis on mental rigors and study, Luther remains like Augustine, dependent on a Sovereign God. Christian, faithful pastors study hard, but are often on their knees. I close with a final quote from Luther, let it encourage all of us to use this study method more often.
You should completely despair of your own sense and reason, for by these you will not attain the goal…. Rather kneel down in your private little room and with sincere humility and earnestness pray God, through His dear Son, graciously to grant you His Holy Spirit to enlighten and guide you and give you understanding. (quoted in Legacy, pg. 108)
This book is available for purchase at the following sites: Amazon.com or direct from Crossway.
As we look back on 2011, the “Arab Spring” stands testament to the power of social media. Facebook and Twitter, and other social media sites helped unite and focus a growing distaste for autocratic state power. The revolutions in Egypt and Libya, Syria and elsewhere were fostered and furthered by means of social media.
I’ve been paging through a new book from Concordia Publishing House, Lutheranism 101. It’s a light-hearted yet informative look at all the ins and outs of Lutheranism. I came across a description of “the most recognized symbol for Luthernaism” — Luther’s seal. I guess this is proof positive that I don’t know much about Lutheranism since I never even knew Martin Luther had a seal. 
