Lutherish – connections and disconnections with the radical tradition

Shortened version of talk by Patricia Took, St Albans October 28th

Dissent

The tradition of radical dissent, from which Baptists trace their origins, is not rooted in the sixteenth century reform movement, but comes from the earliest days of the Church, when to proclaim in baptism "Jesus is Lord" was an act of sedition. The assertion that only Jesus owns our ultimate allegiance has found expression in every generation, emerging in the sixteenth century in the Anabaptist movement and later in Mennonite and Baptist congregations. Radical groups of all kinds, religious and secular, gained impetus from the energy unleashed by Luther's protest. Dissenters still draw encouragement from his dissent, even though he came to regard dissent as dangerous and subversive. Nevertheless, he was the one who, in the face of mortal danger, made the protest that lit the blue touch paper. The danger did not deter him.

"I am in duty bound to speak… I prefer the wrath of the world to the wrath of God; they can do no more than take my life."

This sense of the unequivocal command to obey God rather than man is central to radical Christianity. The Anabaptists set out on their pilgrimage expecting martyrdom and indeed a whole generation of Anabaptists perished. Anna Jansz, awaiting execution in 1539 in Rotterdam wrote to her infant son:

"I am going on the path of the prophets
The martyrs' and apostles' way;
There is none better.
They all have drunk from the cup,
Even as Christ Himself
As I have heard it read."

Similarly, Bunyan's response to the order to stop preaching the Gospel is described in Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners. When it looked as if he might be executed his response echoed Luther:

"...it was for the Word and way of God that I was in this condition, wherefore I was engaged not to flinch a hair's breadth from it. Yea, it was my duty to stand to his word, whether he would ever look upon me or no, or save me at the last."

In similar vein the American Baptist, Martin Luther King, spoke on the eve of his assassination of the American ideals, "freedom of assembly, freedom of speech, freedom of the press, the right to protest", and continued:

"Longevity has its place, but I am not concerned with that now. I just want to do God's will."

Lutheran?

There is, then, much in Baptist spirituality that is Lutherish. But our theology differs from Luther's, and the differences are reflected in the Baptist Union's Declaration of Principle. This statement, written in 1873 and revisited in 1996, is still the basis of our Union. It is neither creed nor confession, but it outlines distinctive Baptist emphases within the broader Evangelical tradition. It contains three clauses. The third has little connection with Luther. It states "That it is the duty of every disciple to bear personal witness to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and to take part in the evangelisation of the world". This reflects a nineteenth and twentieth century world view, although it recalls the very effective missionary journeys undertaken by men and women in early Anabaptism when "every member of the group was regarded as a missionary."

Congregationalism

The other two principles connect more fruitfully with Luther. The first states "That our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, God manifest in the flesh, is the sole and absolute authority in all matters pertaining to faith and practice, as revealed in the Holy Scriptures, and that each Church has liberty, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, to interpret and administer his laws." There are here no ecclesiastical, synodic or hierarchical lords, only the Lordship of Christ; no priests, bishops or popes, only a community of brothers and sisters in Christ. We might think of Luther's wonderfully provocation:

"whoever comes out of the waters of baptism can boast that he is already consecrated priest, bishop and pope, though it is not seemly that everyone should exercise the office."

In Baptist and Congregational communities a genuinely egalitarian theology is practised. Belief in the Lordship of Christ in each congregation, and in the capacity of each church to discern his will, has recently led us to place the difficult issue of human sexuality within that circle of discernment, each congregation deciding how Christ's love might best be expressed in their particular context. However, congregational governance is not what Luther had in mind. As protest came into conflict with political and ecclesiastical forces, and the new theology seemed to threaten the disintegration of society, Luther drew back from the radical statements of his Reformation tracts and rested increasingly on structures of authority never acknowledged by Baptists. The egalitarian and democratic aspects of non-conformism seemed to him a recipe for chaos and ultimately bloodshed.

Scripture

Concerning Scripture, we share with Luther the commitment of Waldo, Huss and Wycliffe. We insist on Scripture as the litmus test of Christian life, seeing the Bible not as a static authority but as a conversation between God and his people. Our Declaration affirms the living Christ himself as our ultimate authority, with Scripture bearing testimony to him. There is a task of interpretation for each congregation under the influence of the Holy Spirit, a charismatic aspect to Scriptural authority and a provisional and contextual aspect to its guidance. Luther's approach to Scripture also had a flexibility and an intimacy beyond biblicism. He had his favourite books, and his unfavourites. At the beginning of the 1552 edition of his Commentary on Romans he declares this letter is:

"…the chief part of the New Testament and the very purest Gospel, and is worthy not only that every Christian should know it word for word, by heart, but occupy himself with it every day, as the daily bread of the soul."

Like Luther we understand Jesus himself, the Word-made-flesh, as standing at the gate of Scripture – he has the authority of "but I say unto you". For us, Scripture does not have an unchanging and undifferentiated authority but must constantly be heard afresh from the lips of the Lord. Our understanding of Scripture is very "Lutherish".

Baptism

Next, we affirm: "That Christian Baptism is the immersion in water into the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit of those who have professed repentance towards God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ who 'died for our sins according to the Scriptures; was buried, and rose again the third day'." Luther rejected the notion of believers' baptism. And yet, his theology leads naturally to a sacrament of repentance and faith.

Conversionism

For Luther personal faith had a strong conversional element, rooted in a fundamentally pessimistic assessment of human nature and will, but a joyful discovery of the sufficiency of God's grace. In response to the lively, immediate and personal offer of new life which God holds out to each man and woman there must be a response of grateful trust for new life to come to fruition. This was the rock on which Luther's entire theology stood. In our understanding of grace and faith as the well-spring of Christian life, Baptists are on common ground with Luther. For us this is properly expressed in the drama of Believers' Baptism; for Luther any sacramental outworking of his faith theology was too subversive to contemplate.

The social and political consequences of unpicking a belonging that was geographical and secular rather than spiritual were too drastic. The debacle of Münster in 1534, a failed Anabaptist rebellion, imprinted in him a horror of the revolutionary consequences of uncoupling church and state. Nevertheless, there is something very Lutherish about believers' baptism; the emphasis on conversion, the call to repentance and faith, the experience of those whom William James describes as the twice-born, born again from despair to hope, the experience of a baptismal life of death and resurrection.

Gathered Church?

Luther's conversionism, however, led him into an impasse. How can you splice together a state church with a community of believers? Luther's dependence upon the German Princes resulted in the quandary of all Erastian settlements. It condemned Lutheranism to that gradual dilution of fervour which haunts all who espouse a Constantinian model of church. Much of his later work was devoted to efforts to arouse devotion in the lukewarm and faith in the faithless.

Even allowing, within the generally indifferent masses, a leaven of those who live a more committed life of faith, secular interests and secular culture will commonly trump the sacred in any society. Moreover for dissenters, both Catholic and Protestant, the Erastian solution was a disaster, as they found themselves in opposition not just to church but also to state – not just heretics but traitors – as Elizabethan Catholics discovered.

Peace and Freedom and the Kingdom Agenda

Some further issues remain significant and difficult in the relationship between radicals and Lutheranism, especially issues of freedom, peace and the Kingdom. Baptists continue to campaign for freedom of every kind - speech, thought, conscience, worship and person. This feels Lutherish:

"A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none. A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject to all."

But Luther did not really mean it; he looked to the magistrate to enforce civic discipline, suspecting any increase in freedom. His response to the Peasant's War of the 1520s reveals a medieval commitment to a static social order and a deep fear of disorder. In his 1524 tract "Against the Murderous Thieving Hordes of Peasants" he infamously wrote:

"Nothing can be more poisonous, hurtful or devilish than a rebel… It is just as one must kill a mad dog. If you do not strike him, he will strike you. Let everyone who can smite, slay and stab, secretly and openly."

Luther believed in the obligation on Princes to enforce order, with violence if necessary, but he was not a man of violence, and doubted the value of force in matters of faith, trusting in the power of persuasion. Nevertheless on occasions he advocated violence. Here he stood in direct opposition to Anabaptism, which became almost universally pacifist as the sixteenth century progressed, a tradition re-expressed in Quakerism.

These issues of peace and of freedom form part of the radical passion for the realisation of God's Kingdom on earth. Dissenters have always had a utopian dimension to their faith, a dissatisfaction with both the institutionalised church and the status quo in society and state. This involves a solidarity with the poor and the excluded.

Contemporary potential

There are some emphases here that could enrich the Church of today. Believers' Baptism, now widely practised, resonates strongly with an individualistic culture and perhaps speaks wisdom to those traditions that have previously been able to assume a cultural hegemony. In a Post-Christendom situation, where even the established church is established in name only, the model of a network of individual believers and congregations has become highly relevant.

For this generation clericalism is suspect, foundering on issues of power, authority and accountability, accentuated by much-publicised scandals concerning sexual abuse. The notion of external authorities making moral and spiritual decisions on our behalf is distasteful, and a dissenting, non-clerical model has more to recommend it.

Meanwhile we continue to treasure the heritage of Martin Luther, in particular the belief that some things are laid on the conscience that require an absolute obedience. This is currently most vividly expressed in the call of radical Islamism. The Christian church cannot mirror that violence, but the sense that there are some things worth dying for must continue to inform our proclamation. And it seems to me, that there is in the spirituality of Luther a warmth, an affective dimension of personal devotion, shared by dissenters, and still, and always, a source of life in the world.