General Characteristics
Lutheran orthodoxy, whose classical period began about the year 1600, was an extension of the tradition represented above all by the Lutheran confessional writings (the Book of Concord, 1580) and by the theologians (such as the previously mentioned Wigand and Chemnitz) who more thoroughly developed a corresponding point of view. The name of Aegidius Hunnius (d. 1592, teacher in Marburg) should also be included among the major precursors of the orthodox position.
In spite of its profound loyalty to the universal church and to the Lutheran tradition, classical orthodoxy nevertheless denotes a fresh beginning, not least of all with respect to its erudite reworking of theology. The new orientation which Lutheran orthodoxy represents can be associated with the philosophical school known as Neo-Aristotelianism. This school originated in certain south European seats of learning (Padua, Coimbra), but it secured a footing in the Protestant universities of Germany by the end of the 16th century. Here it gave birth to a Protestant scholastic metaphysics which in many respects provided the scientific presuppositions for the theology and science of that period. The scientific program of this metaphysics involved the revivification of Aristotelian metaphysics, coupled with the demand for a more radical revision of scientific principles. This scholastic metaphysics had in part a purely humanistic bent, as, for example, in the case of Cornelius Martini of Helmstedt, but at certain Lutheran universities it was combined with the orthodox Lutheran position, as, for example, in the case of Balthasar Meisner and Jakob Martini (both active in Wittenberg), and (later on) Christopher Scheibler in Giessen and the theologian Abraham Calov.
The influence exerted by scholastic philosophy upon orthodox Lutheran theology cannot be determined in any simple way, inasmuch as a sharp distinction was made between theology and philosophy. Even on this point the attempt was made (in principle, at least) to hold fast to the Reformation position. It was not, therefore, a question of a direct takeover of metaphysical concepts, or of the insertion of theology into a metaphysical system—something which would conflict with its own assumptions. At the same time, however, Neo-Aristotelian philosophy did play an important role in many ways in the theological development of that period. Its influence can be characterized from the following points of view:
Scholastic metaphysics placed the universal concepts of the world and of reality in clear formulae. It defined the intellectual assumptions of contemporary science in conceptual terms—assumptions which to a large extent also served as the basis of theological activity. The parallelism between Lutheran orthodoxy and scholastic philosophy is to be seen also in the fact that both flourished at the same time. Furthermore, both were superseded by other currents of thought at about the same time (early 18th century). The world view of scholastic philosophy was distinguished among other things by the Aristotelian concept of knowledge (one proceeds from external reality—both sensuous and supersensual—as the primary and immediate reality) as well as by the Aristotelian view of form (it is the form of things, and not their substance, which provides the reality accessible to knowledge). As a result, this point of view detached itself both from idealism and from the mechanical concept of the world. The acceptance of scholastic philosophy by theology was facilitated by the fact that the former based its universal concept of the world on a religious principle: it is God who is the highest reality (the absolute actuality or form) and also the ground and goal of all other reality.
Neo-Aristotelianism also gave rise to a thorough revision of the scientific method, a fact which influenced theological exposition as well. The leading philosopher in this sphere was Jacob Zabarella (teacher in Padua, d. 1589), who felt that there were only two ways to present a given proposition in all branches of science. He called the first ordo compositivus, which proceeds from principles to conclusions. The other is the ordo resolutivus, which begins with the goal in view and then sets forth ways to reach this goal. It was felt at the time, however, that theology, since it was outside the scientific sphere, was not bound to use either of these methods. Yet they were used to some extent also in theological exposition, as for example in the development of the Scriptural principle as the foundation of theology, and above all in the acceptance of the so-called analytical method. Attempts were being made as early as the beginning of the 17th century to orient the presentation of theology according to the method which was applicable to the so-called practical sciences, i.e., the above-named ordo resolutivus. A Lutheran, Balthasar Mentzer, and a Reformed theologian by the name of Keckermann were among those who made this attempt. They began with the belief that God is the eternal goal, and then proceeded to deal with the doctrine of man, the subject of theology, and finally with the means whereby man can attain eternal blessedness. This analytical method was generally accepted in Lutheran circles later on (cf. Calixtus and Calov) and replaced the older so-called “loci” method. The analytical method was an attempt to present theology in a more standardized form than was previously the case, i.e., to present it as a doctrine of salvation and of the means whereby this salvation can be attained. Also the theological treatises which employed this method, however, at the same time followed the order of the history of salvation, which is independent of philosophical methods. Theological developments in the 17th century led to an ever stricter systematic reworking of the enormous amount of material inherited from the older Lutheran tradition. The works of the later orthodox dogmaticians were often characterized by an endless number of artificial distinctions.
To the extent that it was accepted by theology, German scholastic philosophy served to strengthen the intellectual strain which characterized Lutheran orthodoxy. It also promoted a more pronounced scientific treatment of theological questions. By its use of philosophy, Lutheran orthodoxy was, in a way, provided with better means of preserving and passing on the Biblical and Reformation inheritance. It was not until this philosophical element was surrendered that the orthodox structure of theology began to seem to many to be a formalism alien to the essence of Christianity.
The orthodox exposition of doctrine rested primarily on arguments derived from the Bible. Similarly, a continuing study of the Scriptures formed the basis for theological education. The attachment to contemporary scholastic philosophy did not imply any fundamental confusion of the principles of faith and reason. It was agreed that the conceptual apparatus of philosophy should function only in the defense of faith or in the explanation of theological questions in the academic context. With respect to the content of doctrine, every rational argument must give way before the testimony of Scripture. On this point Lutheran orthodoxy dissociated itself both from medieval scholasticism and from contemporary Reformed orthodoxy, in which attempts were made (to some extent) to harmonize the content of revelation with the arguments of reason. Keckermann felt, for example, that the doctrine of the Trinity could be demonstrated philosophically, but the Lutherans disagreed. Their ideal was what Balthasar Meisner called asobria philosophia, i.e., a sober philosophy, which humbly subjects itself to the testimony of revealed truth.
But at the same time that dogmatic works were based on Scripture as the only foundation (the Scripture principle), the interpretation of the Bible was influenced in turn by the dogmatic view of the whole and by the doctrinaire attitude. The first attempts to interpret the Bible historically (in the modern sense of the term) were certainly made during the 17th century—not within the orthodox Lutheran tradition, however, but in other circles. The Dutch jurist and theologian Hugo Grotius was one who anticipated the modern point of view on this matter.
As already noted, orthodox Lutheran dogmatic expositions followed the order of the history of salvation: Creation, the Fall, Redemption, and the Last Things are the major points which always appear in such presentations. The doctrine of the Word and the doctrine of God are set forth first. The usual order in the various “loci” typically included the following: (1) the Holy Scriptures, (2) the Trinity (the doctrine of God, of Christ, of the Holy Spirit), (3) Creation, (4) Providence, (5) Predestination, (6) the Image of God, (7) the Fall of Man, (8) Sin, (9) Free Will, (10) the Law, (11) the Gospel, (12) Repentance, (13) Faith (justification), (14) Good Works, (15) the Sacraments, (16) the Church, (17) the Three Estates, and (18) the Last Things.
What we have here is an objective form of theology, quite different from the modern method of dogmatic exposition. Theology was then defined as a “teaching about God and divine things.” Revelation, as codified in Scripture, provided the point of departure, and not faith as something within the soul. Theology was usually conceived of as a “practical” discipline, but that meant only that it was designed for practical application, and not that it had its basis in the experience of faith. This point of view was first altered by Pietism.
The Scriptural principle excluded the principle of traditionalism (which looks upon tradition as the standard). But that fact notwithstanding, the weight of tradition assumed a very prominent place within orthodox theology. Gerhard’s ideal was an “evangelical-catholic theology,” a Reformation point of view, that is, which can be found in the theological tradition preserved throughout all the centuries of Christian history. The dogmatics of classical orthodoxy was characterized by a copious use of the material provided by patristic sources and (to a lesser degree) scholastic theology. Augustine exerted by far the strongest influence in this area.
With respect to its versatile comprehension of theological material and the breadth of its knowledge of the Bible, Lutheran orthodoxy marks the high point in the entire history of theology. And it was not only the contemporary tradition or the next preceding tradition which provided the material for the great Lutheran doctrinal expositions of the 17th century, but to an even greater extent it was the Bible and patristic sources.
The method employed was quite different from the one used by dogmaticians today. It was not felt that theology had to be presented in a uniform way, by placing an emphasis on certain basic ideas. On the contrary, the dogmaticians of the 17th century believed that it was their task to reproduce the infinite richness of the Biblical revelation. As a result of this attitude, their minds were open to all of the details in the tradition which had been handed down, but this method also led to an endless division of questions and to a difficulty in distinguishing between the essential and the non-essential. Attempts were made to systematize this effort, but they were not successful. For example, the analytical method was an attempt to arrange the entire doctrinal exposition under a single point of view: How shall man reach his highest goal, eternal blessedness? A similar tendency can be seen in the concept of the so-called fundamental articles: only one part of the content of faith could be said to be necessary to salvation, while other portions of doctrine are only of secondary importance.
Representatives of Lutheran Orthodoxy; Its Stages of Development
Properly speaking, the era of Lutheran orthodoxy ranged over the entire 17th century, but one can distinguish between the classical period in the first half of the century and a later phase which began with the Peace of Westphalia (1648). This latter period was characterized by a struggle against syncretism and a rigorous systematizing of the Lutheran tradition, as well as by a more doctrinaire attitude.
The chief representatives of the older, classical orthodoxy were Leonhard Hutter (d. 1616, teacher in Wittenberg) and Johann Gerhard (d. 1637, Hutter’s disciple, active for the most part in Jena). Hutter’s concise treatment of dogmatics, Compendium locorum theologicorum, ex Scripturis Sacris et Libro Concordiae collectum (1610), to a large extent replaced Melanchthon’s Loci as a textbook.
Gerhard, the foremost dogmatician of Lutheran orthodoxy, continued to build on the Reformation tradition (chiefly on the basis of Chemnitz’ work), but he also laid the foundation for the theological activity which followed. The best known of his writings is the Loci theologici (1610–25), which is a comprehensive treatment of the evangelical doctrinal position, based on a particularly wide range of material. His Confessio catholica (1633–37) sought to refute the objections of contemporary Roman Catholic theology with quotations taken from the Church of Rome’s own tradition. Gerhard also wrote Bible commentaries, devotional works such as the popular Meditationes sacrae (1606), homiletical treatises (Postilla, 1613), disputations, and a detailed exposition of the ethics of the life of faith, Schola pietatis (1621).
Nikolaus Hunnius (d. 1643) is best known for his theory of the fundamental articles—the idea that only certain points of doctrine, and not the entire content of Scripture, ought to be looked upon as necessary to salvation and as constituting the theological position. Hunnius’ summary of the doctrine of faith, Epitome credendorum (1625), has been widely used.
Matthias Hafenreffer of Tübingen was also active during this period. His Compendium doctrinae coelestis, an abridged edition of his Loci of the year 1600, was still being used as a textbook a hundred years later (in Sweden, for example).
A somewhat divergent position was represented by the prominent Helmstedt theologian Georg Calixtus (d. 1656), who believed that the different confessions could be united on the basis of the consensus quinquesaecularis, the oldest Christian tradition, recognized by all as a foundation of doctrine. This so-called syncretistic concept was further developed by his followers, members of the “Helmstedt school.” The struggle against syncretism left a definite mark on Lutheran orthodoxy in the latter part of the 17th century.
The chief opponent of syncretism was Abraham Calov (d. 1686, professor in Wittenberg), who perpetuated the tradition associated with Gerhard but who also accentuated these ideas in a doctrinaire and polemical manner. His magnum opus was the voluminous Systema locorum theologicorum (1655–77). Other dogmatic works of the latter part of the 17th century were similarly characterized by a more strongly systematic reworking of the orthodox tradition, as well as by an increasingly incisive logical definition of the various doctrinal problems. In this category we find Johann Friedrich König’s Theologia positiva acroamatica (1661), and Johann Andreas Quenstedt’s Theologia didacticopolemica (1685). A more concise treatment can be seen in Johann Wilhelm Baier’s Compendium (1686).
David Hollaz’ Examen theologico-acroamaticum (1707) is usually referred to as the last great doctrinal system produced by Lutheran orthodoxy. The influence of Pietism can be noted in this work, but it is at the same time a meticulous presentation of the orthodox Lutheran tradition.
The theology of northern Europe was closely related to that of Germany in this period. In Sweden the older orthodoxy was represented by Olaus Martini, Johannes Rudbeck, and Paulinus Gothus (Ethica Christiana, 1617–30), and in Denmark by Jesper Brochmand, whose comprehensive Systema universae theologiae (1633) won great respect. Somewhat later on, Swedish theology was represented by Johannes Matthiae, who set forth syncretistic ideas, and by Olaus Laurelius, who defended the strict orthodox position.
The following summary of some major ideas of orthodox dogmatics is based primarily on the older, classical orthodoxy, as represented by Leonhard Hutter and Johann Gerhard. Later treatises in the field of dogmatics are rather different in many respects.
Chief Characteristics of Orthodox Lutheran Theology
a. The Holy Scriptures; the Word as a means of grace. As we have already noted, the Holy Scriptures were looked upon as theology’s only “principle,” or as its fundamental presupposition. This meant that the teachings of the Bible were to be followed even when they seemed to oppose reason, as well as when they seemed to contradict ecclesiastical tradition.
The Holy Scriptures were equated with the Word of God. The idea of an oral apostolic tradition, preserved by the clergy, was rejected. The Bible certainly evolved out of an original, oral proclamation, but for the present church it is the only authentic source of the prophetic and apostolic witness. The Roman Catholic principle of tradition was thereby repudiated.
When God’s Word is equated with Holy Scripture, this assumes that the external Word or “letter” is not thought of as something external to the underlying meaning, but that the concept of “Scripture” refers to the inner (meaning, content) as well as to the external, of which the inner or the “formal” (to use the philosophic terminology of the time) is basic. The Aristotelian conception of form supplied the orthodox view of Scripture with a quality lacking in the Biblicism of later years, which frequently ascribed divine dignity to a rational, literal interpretation.
The formation of the doctrine of inspiration can be seen in connection with this. That Scripture is the Word of God is based on the fact that it is divinely inspired. This signified, in the older orthodox tradition, that prophets and apostles were entrusted with a divine mission to take down and to pass on in writing the message which they had received from God and had first proclaimed orally. By virtue of this mission the divine Word has been preserved in Scripture without error or deficiency. Scripture is therefore an infallible norm for Christian faith and conduct, and the judge in all doctrinal controversy (norma fidei, judex controversiarum).
When reference is made to Scripture’s “perfection” or “sufficiency,” this means that Scripture, as the only theological principle, includes all that one needs to know to be saved—“that Scripture fully and perfectly instructs us concerning all things necessary for attaining salvation.” (Gerhard, Loci, Cotta ed., II, 286a)
The general rule applied to the exegesis of Scripture was that Scripture is clear in itself (per se evidens) and can therefore serve as its own interpreter (sui ipsius interpres). This follows from what has already been said, for if Scripture is the only and sufficient norm of faith, then its content must be accessible to understanding, insofar as this content is necessary for faith. Difficult passages should be interpreted with the help of clearer ones. As a general rule, interpretation must agree with the analogy of faith, i.e., with the doctrine of faith as clearly set forth in Scripture. Great weight was attached to the literal interpretation. There can be only one original meaning, sensus literalis. Allegorical expositions were also recognized, but they were looked upon as a posteriori figurative applications—unless they were intended by the text itself, as was thought to be the case in the Song of Solomon, thus constituting its original sensus literalis. This concept did not imply a historical interpretation in the modern sense, but it rather pointed, in general, to the meaning originally intended by the Holy Spirit. Typology or allegory was looked upon (even where suggested by the text itself) as an application and not as an original “mystical” meaning in the text. In later orthodoxy, reference was made to a real duplex sensus, i.e., a literal and a mystical meaning in one and the same text.
A controversy which took place in the 1620s throws considerable light on the concept of Scripture. The question involved concerned the effectiveness of the Word and the relation between the Word and the Spirit. Hermann Rahtmann (pastor in Danzig) had said (referring, in part, to Johann Arndt) that the Word in itself would only be a dead letter. A man can be converted only with the cooperation of the Spirit. Rahtmann thus distinguished between the external Word and the inner Word, the latter being identical with the power of the Spirit. As he saw it, the fact that so few are influenced by preaching can be explained in no other way. The orthodox theologians, including Gerhard, were critical of this trend of thought. They maintained that just as the Word is in itself inspired and full of divine authority, so also does it have the power to bring a man to conversion. The Spirit is therefore directly related to the Word, and He constantly uses the Word as a means through which to do His work. It was also asserted—as the ultimate consequence of this—that the Word possesses its spiritual effectiveness even before it is used (extra usum). But this brought them, in a way, into an untenable position, since the efficacy of the Word always presupposes its use. The conclusion was comprehensible, however, if seen in association with the Aristotelian conception of form, which was employed here. According to this, “the Word” is not so many letters or a book (the Bible), but living content. The position taken in the dispute with Rahtmann was simply a consequence of the doctrine of the Word’s authority and inspiration. The rejection of spiritualism was a basic characteristic of the orthodox tradition. The Spirit does not work beside the Word or independently of it, but in and with the divine Word as it is heard or read.
b. The doctrine of God. In some ways the entire orthodox dogmatic position constitutes a “doctrine of God.” The doctrine of Creation and the order of salvation are connected to the exposition of God’s being (the Trinity, Christology, etc.) as a description of God’s will, manifested in His work. Reference is also made to God as theology’s “principle of being” (principium essendi): to the extent that He has revealed Himself, God is Himself the cause of our knowledge of Him. Just as the things of the world around us influence the intellect and thereby elicit sensuous and conceptual knowledge, so also is God’s manifestation of Himself—His emergence in His words and works—the direct cause of our knowledge of Him. This basic idea was a common assumption in orthodox theology.
A distinction was made between natural and supernatural knowledge of God. The latter is that given once through the prophets and apostles, now to be found in the Holy Scriptures. The former is in part congenital, in part acquired (notitia insita et acquisita). The congenital knowledge of God was looked upon as an insight put into the heart of man at the time of Creation; after the Fall this was reduced to weak reminiscences of the original, perfect light which once illuminated the soul. It merely includes the idea that God is, that He is almighty, etc.—examples of which can be found in heathen forms of worship (el. Rom. 1:19). To this must be added the conscience, which is also a congenital faculty, enabling man to distinguish between right and wrong (cf. Rom. 2:14–15). A conception of God can also be found in this, indirectly, inasmuch as the natural knowledge of the Law (lex naturae) presupposes the question: Who established this law? The accusations of the conscience, while they may be vague or suppressed, nevertheless convey the realization that there is someone who punishes evil deeds. The acquired knowledge of God is that which is attained through inferences based on our observations of created things. On this point the “proofs” of the existence of God which were developed by the medieval scholastics were by and large taken over—e.g., the “causal” proof (the chain of causes presupposes an ultimate or first cause) and the “teleological” proof (the appearance of a certain purposefulness in creation presupposes that someone conceived of the purposes in question). It ought to be noted that the natural knowledge of God was thought of as a part of revelation—in keeping with the idea (mentioned above) that all our knowledge of God has its basis in the fact that God has revealed Himself, either through the work of creation or through the Word.
This natural knowledge of God has been vitiated, and it is entirely insufficient for achieving salvation. Since it is largely limited to an insight into the fact that God is, our knowledge of what God is like—knowledge of His nature and attributes—must be secured above all from the Holy Scriptures. Teachings about the attributes of God are, for the most part, a systematic exposition of what the Bible tells us about Him. This method does not provide us with an adequate knowledge of God—for “God dwells in a light to which no one can come”—it merely supplies us with certain lessons which are necessary to faith and are adapted to our ability to comprehend. A distinction is made between the inner attributes, those that are intrinsic to divinity in itself (e.g., that the being of God is spiritual and invisible, eternal and everywhere present), and the external attributes, those that appear in relation to creation (e.g., God’s omnipotence, righteousness, and truthfulness). The very division into attributes is in itself an adaptation to our imperfect ability to understand: the fact of the matter is that God’s qualities are not accidental, but identical with His nature. God, for example, is not simply “truthful” but “Truthfulness itself” (ipsa veritas). It has often been said that the orthodox position with respect to the attributes of God is just so much abstract speculation, a learned embellishment of the Christian faith. But this is a misunderstanding, for these doctrinal statements give expression, in many cases, to fundamental concepts which are necessary assumptions for theology in general. The concept of divine omnipotence, for example, provides the background for the trust in providence which is characteristic of Lutheran piety, and the concept of righteousness is fundamental to the doctrine of the Atonement.
The doctrine of the Trinity was developed in association with the patristic tradition, above all the Symbolum quicunque (the Athanasian Creed). Special weight was attached to the evidence of Scripture. Reference was made to the creation account in the Old Testament, for example, where we are told about God’s Word and about God’s Spirit, which “hovered over the waters.” In the New Testament, reference was made to the description of Jesus’ baptism (Matt. 3:16–17) or to the command to baptize (Matt. 28:19). The following are some of the fundamental points of view presented: The intratrinitarian distinctions between the Persons lie in the fact that the Father is neither begotten nor created (αγεννησια), the Son is begotten of the Father (γεννησια), and the Spirit is neither begotten nor created but proceeds from the Father and the Son (εχπορευσις). With respect to Creation, the Persons can be distinguished by the fact that Creation is first of all ascribed to the Father, redemption to the Son, and sanctification to the Spirit. At the same time, however, all three Persons cooperate in these activities; the external work of the Trinity is indivisible.
The Scriptural evidence of the divinity of the Son and the Spirit was elaborated with great care, not least of all because it provided the Lutherans with one of their main arguments in the struggle with Socinianism (on which more will follow).
Christology was set forth as a “doctrine of Christ’s Person and work.” In agreement with the formulation of the ancient church, Christ was spoken of as “true God” and “true man.” The crucial question had to do with how the union of the two “natures” in the one person is to be understood. The teaching of the unio personalis became, therefore, the central point in Lutheran Christology. The figures that were used in an attempt to illustrate this union were not satisfactory. It was suggested, for example, that it could be illustrated by the union of body and soul, or by the glowing iron which is a union of iron and fire. Christology does not, as a matter of fact, suggest that two elements have blended together to form a third; it rather asserts that Christ is simultaneously God and man. The body of Christ is not to be found apart from the Logos, the divine nature, and the Logos (subsequent to the Incarnation) is not to be found apart from the body of Christ. On this point the Lutherans disagreed with the Calvinists, who maintained that the body of Christ is confined to heaven, while Christ as spirit is everywhere present and therefore exists also apart from the body (an idea expressed by the term extra calvinisticum).
The unio personalis concept indicates that God and man have united in Christ in such a way that they form one person. That “the Word became flesh” must not, however, be understood as an alteration of the flesh into divine nature. Neither has divinity simply manifested itself in bodily form—as though this were a temporary form of revelation (comparable to the Old Testament accounts which tell us how God revealed Himself in human form). But the unio personalis implies that the Logos, the Second Person of the Godhead, assumed to Himself the “person” (or hypostasis) of the human nature. In other words, orthodox Lutheranism accepted the ideas which were given their classical expression by John of Damascus (enhypostasis theology), with the exception of some of his Platonic points of view.
As a result of holding to the unio personalis, the Lutherans also taught a communicatio naturarum and a communicatio idiomatum. “Communication of natures” refers to the fact that the divine and human natures stand in the closest communion with one another, that the divine nature permeates and perfects the human, and at the same time that the latter imparts itself to the divine. Because of this communion between the two natures, what is true of the one can be predicated of the other. One can say, for example, “God’s Son is man” or, “The man Jesus is God.” At the same time, however, both natures remain separate and distinct; the divine nature is not transformed into the human, nor the human into the divine.
The “communication of attributes” concept, which was borrowed from an earlier tradition, expressed similar convictions. As a consequence of the communicatio naturarum, the different attributes which distinguish the natures also belong to Christ as a person and therefore also interact upon one another in the most intimate manner. The one nature shares in the attributes of the other, and both natures share in the attributes of the person. The various instances of communicatio idiomatum which can be seen in the Biblical picture of Christ are limited, however, to three kinds, or genera (cf. the Formula of Concord). The first, genus idiomaticum, implies that the attributes of one nature can also be ascribed to the whole person of Christ. So when it is said of Jesus Christ, for example, that He is “the same yesterday and today and forever,” this means that a divine attribute is ascribed to Him; or when it is said that “Christ is born of the Virgin Mary,” “Christ is of David’s seed,” then a human attribute is ascribed to Him. The same is true when human attributes are ascribed to Christ as God, as when we read, “They crucified the Lord of glory” (1 Cor. 2:8). The second kind, genus majestaticum, implies that the divine nature imparts its majesty and glory to the human nature, without itself sharing in the suffering of the flesh. This can be illustrated from the words, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Me” (Matt. 28:18), or from John 6:51 ff., where it is said that to eat the body of Christ will enable a man to “live forever.” There is no reciprocity in such a case, however, for while divine qualities can be said to be communicated to the human nature, human qualities are not communicated to the divine nature, which is unchangeable and eternal. The doctrine of the ubiquity of the body of Christ belongs to this genus. The third kind, genus apotelesmaticum, concerns the deeds performed by Christ. Each of the natures was active in these according to its own peculiarities, while the other nature also participated. So when we read that “Christ died for our sins” or that “Christ teaches” or that “He gave Himself as an offering to God,” such statements belong to this genus.
The distinction between our Lord’s “state of humiliation” and His “state of exaltation” is given a certain significance in the light of this communicatio doctrine. The former refers to Jesus’ life on earth; the latter to His condition following the death on the cross, including His descent into hell, His resurrection, His ascension, and His being seated on the right hand of the Father. About the year 1620 two theological schools (Tübingen and Giessen) became involved in a dispute concerning Christ’s divine attributes during the state of humiliation. Some argued that He possessed these attributes even then, but that He hid His majesty (χρυψις); this was the Tübingen position. The Giessen theologians, on the other hand, asserted that Christ actually laid aside His divine attributes during this period, divested Himself of His majesty (χενωσις). This arcane question was not settled conclusively, but neither did it lead to a deeper schism. It was agreed that Christ certainly did possess His divine majesty throughout His entire life on earth, but that He did not always make use of it.
The Protestant tradition (Calvin, Gerhard) was the first to refer to Christ’s threefold office (as prophet, priest, and king), thereby providing a summary description of Christ’s work as mediator and Lord. This concept, which is supported by many passages in Scripture, holds that as “king” Christ reigns over the faithful and all creation, that as “priest” He presented the perfect sacrifice for the sins of the world and now intercedes for His own, and also that as “prophet” He proclaimed God’s eternal decree of salvation and continually works in the congregation through the office of the Word.
The kingly office was originally thought of as Christ’s dominion over the faithful, protecting the church on earth, but in the orthodox Lutheran tradition (beginning with Gerhard) this concept also came to include His authority over all creation. Reference is made to the “kingdom of power,” extending over heaven and earth; the “kingdom of grace,” which coincides with Christ’s activity in the congregation; and the “kingdom of glory,” the glorious kingdom which is to come.
The priestly office, the office of the high priest, includes Christ’s work of reconciliation—His fulfilling of the Law and His substitionary suffering (obedientia activa et passiva), the complete redemption of the human race, and the satisfaction He made for the sins of the world (satisfactio vicaria). Christ’s continued intercession for man before the Father also belongs to this office (intercessio).
The prophetic office involves the message brought by Christ, His institution of the office of the Word and of the sacraments, plus the work which He will carry out in the church through the preaching office until His return. These three offices do not refer to separate stages of Christ’s work; they rather designate different facets of the ongoing work of salvation.
c. Creation and man’s fall. The work of Creation (in six days) was based exclusively upon God’s free decision. The one Triune God brought forth out of nothing (ex nihilo) all that there is, both visible and invisible. There was a time when matter did not exist. But at the time of Creation God first brought forth an unformed mass, out of which the visible world was subsequently given form and order. The creation was, from the beginning, good; its evil and defective aspects have come in by degrees. God created the world for His glory, but also for man’s good.
Man—the crown of creation and an “epitome” of the universe, a “microcosm”—was created in God’s “image” and “likeness” (Gen. 1:26). These Biblical terms are interpreted as two expressions of the same reality. The likeness of God, imago Dei, is defined (partly in connection with Eph. 4:24) as an original, native form of righteousness and holiness. This signifies the perfection and harmony of a whole man: in his understanding, wisdom, and knowledge of God; in his will, righteousness, and conformity to God’s law. To this must be added immortality. This original condition was “natural,” i.e., given in and with creation and not a supernatural gift.
The Fall—man’s transgression of God’s command, induced by the devil’s guile—brought about the loss of original righteousness (justitia originalis). As a result of this—since perfection was “natural”—man was totally corrupted. And because of the unity of the race, this corruption has been transmitted from generation to generation via physical birth. In place of the original righteousness, a condition of guilt (reatus) and an inclination toward evil (concupiscentia) have entered in through “original sin” (peccatum originis). Man stands under the wrath of God; unless he is regenerated, he is subject to temporal and eternal punishment. Death is directly related to sin. Death did not, therefore, reign over man at the beginning; it was not a part of man’s nature at creation but has come as a result of his transgression. Life presupposes righteousness, that is, an inner harmony between spiritual and physical powers, and an unbroken relationship to God.
There is a scrupulous parallel between the original righteousness or perfection, the corruption which entered through the Fall (original sin), and the new creation which comes into being through Word and Sacrament. The life which was lost through Adam’s fall is born anew through faith in Christ’s atoning work.
d. Providence and predestination. The orthodox concept of providence is directly related to the doctrine of creation, and forms a necessary complement thereto. As seen from one point of view, providence (providentia) is nothing other than creatio continuata, continued creation. God did not only create things in the beginning; He also preserves them in their continued existence. Apart from this preservation (conservatio) they would be unable to exist or work in accordance with their nature. “Created things do not subsist by their own power, but ‘God upholds the universe by His word of power,’ Heb. 1:3” (Gerhard, Loci, Cotta ed., IV, 83a). The existence of men and things, their movement and activity, presupposes God’s perpetual creative and sustaining cooperation. It is God who enables the sun to rise, who gives bread its nourishing power, herbs their ability to heal, etc. Without this continued cooperation things would lack their natural effectiveness.
Similarly all that happens, all events—with preservation of man’s freedom of will and of natural causes—are completely subject to God’s direct guidance and supervision; nothing takes place apart from His will. Furthermore, He directs everything to the goal He has selected. In God’s care of creation, man occupies the foremost place. God’s purposes for man (who is an “epitome of the world”) form the center of the course of world history, particularly the goal which has been established for the faithful in the order of salvation. Here we can apply the well-known words, “In everything God works for good with those who love Him” (Rom. 8:28). God’s active management of events is referred to as gubernatio, in distinction from conservatio.
As seen from another point of view, providence also includes the foreknowledge (praescientia) of God, which means, to speak more precisely, that God, dwelling in a perpetual “now,” sees all and knows all. Because God is eternal, the boundaries of time are abrogated for Him. God’s active will to care for the world and man is intimately associated with His foreknowledge—the eternal decision concerning all that subsequently happens in time.
In the later orthodox tradition the doctrine of providence—as was true of so many other points of doctrine—was divided into many different concepts and definitions, and as a result the general picture was quickly obscured. There can be no doubt, however, about the essential significance of this doctrine for the Lutheran position taken as a whole. It has influenced both individual piety and the general world view to a like extent.
But how is God related to evil? This question has posed problems of particular difficulty. The Calvinistic concept, which taught that God preordained and carried out evil in accordance with His hidden will, was rejected by the Lutherans. As Melanchthon said, we cannot conceive of God having two contradictory wills. And yet it can be said that God is actively involved in evil deeds in many different ways: He upholds man and man’s natural abilities while evil is being done; He permits evil to happen; He abandons those who do evil; and finally, He sets limits thereto according to His free pleasure and can turn evil to good. When God “hardened the heart of Pharoah,” this was not the result of “predestination” to evil; it was punishment for Pharoah’s impenitence.
And with that we have touched upon the problem of predestination. Lutheran orthodoxy solved this in general agreement with the Formula of Concord. It was said that predestination, or election, refers only to those who come to believe in Christ and who remain in this faith to the end. God chose them for eternal life in Christ prior to the creation of the world. On the other hand, reprobation concerns those who persist in unbelief and impenitence to the end. They receive the just judgment of eternal death. This too is based on an eternal “decree.”
But neither of these decrees is unconditioned: Election is carried through for Christ’s sake and is based on the fact that God foresees who will remain faithful to the end (ex praevisa fide). Reprobation, on the other hand, is based on the fact that God foresees who will remain impenitent to the end.
The orthodox Lutheran doctrine of predestination adhered to what might be called an imperfect, logically incomplete theory: On the one hand, God alone is the source of man’s salvation (which lies in predestination), while on the other, it is not God but man’s own evil which leads to rejection. The question of God’s omnipotence was deliberately omitted in this context, which suggests that justice was not done to the ideas which Luther set forth in his De servo arbitrio. On the other hand, however, the Calvinistic concept of double predestination was clearly repudiated.
e. Free will. The doctrine “Of Free Will” (De libero arbitrio) played an important role in the dogmatic structure of orthodox Lutheranism. But it must be said that the question concerning the relation of the will to predestination was not dealt with here in a specific way (which is rather surprising); the dogmaticians rather emphasized the synergistic problem, which involves the question of whether or not the human will is able to cooperate in spiritual things prior to or in the experience of conversion. This question was answered by saying that man, in specific respects, lacks free will. He is in bondage (servum arbitrium) through sin and is therefore unable to do good spiritually; he cannot, as a result, cooperate in his conversion. Hence the position set down in the Formula of Concord was accepted, and the point of view enunciated by Melanchthon was rejected (together with the grosser forms of synergism).
In the dogmatic locus De libero arbitrio this question was placed in a broader context. The problem of determinism was not really dealt with, nor the psychological problem of the function and nature of the will (even though such problems are touched upon tangentially here and there). The subject is rather this: the wholeness of man as seen in the context of the order of salvation. In agreement with Augustine and the medieval tradition reference is made to man “before the Fall,” “after the Fall but before conversion,” to “the regenerate man,” and finally to “man after the resurrection.” The freedom of the will in relation to its ability to do what is good in a spiritual sense is categorized in these various stages: In his original condition man was free to do good, as a result of his native righteousness; after the Fall the condition described above prevails—man is completely unable to do what is good; through regeneration man’s freedom is partially restored, so that he can cooperate with grace and fight against sin; the condition of the consummation implies final release from the thraldom of sin.
The question in this context did not concern freedom as a psychological fact (i.e., whether or not the volitional act has a “voluntary” character), but it rather concerned freedom in relation to the object chosen. On this point a distinction was drawn between physical things (res corporales), i. e., the “lower hemisphere” or “social good,” and spiritual things (res spirituales), i. e., true fear of God, pure love, and so on. With respect to the former it was said that a certain amount of freedom remained even after the Fall. Man can, to a certain degree, bring about external, civil righteousness. But with respect to the latter, freedom (as already noted) was entirely lost—which means that man is unable to cooperate in his salvation or produce what is good before God.
f. Law and Gospel; repentance. We have already spoken of the Word as a means of grace. The function of the divine Word in the order of salvation is further elucidated by the doctrine of Law and Gospel. It is by virtue of the operation of Law and Gospel—and only through this—that man can be converted and pass over from death and wrath to life. This is also called repentance (poenitentia).
What is the Law? In answer to this question, the definition suggested by Melanchthon was accepted: the Law is an “eternal and unchangeable wisdom and rule for righteousness with God.” This lex aeterna is reflected in the righteousness of the first man, and subsequently in the Decalog given at Sinai. It not only demands external deeds but that man agrees in all things with the will of God (lex spiritualis). This is the Law which Christ fulfilled in a perfect way through His obedience and which provides the pattern for the pious and holy life of the Christian estate in this world, as well as for the perfection which we anticipate in the life to come.
Because man is unable to fulfill the Law’s demands, it is not a rule for the conduct of his life. Instead, the Law serves to reveal sin, to accuse man, and to condemn all who are not released from the curse of the Law by the grace made available through Christ’s atonement. Forgiveness is pronounced through the Gospel, which, unlike the Law, is not known to human reason; it is only revealed through God’s Word, spoken to prophets and apostles. The Gospel, as a proclamation of Christ’s complete redemption, is a consoling and edifying message. The idea that the Gospel also accuses man of sin, thus supplementing the Law, was rejected. In the strict sense of the term, the Law is the word which threatens, accuses, and condemns, while the Gospel comforts, edifies, and saves.
The evangelical concept of repentance was developed in direct connection with the doctrine of Law and Gospel. Repentance was placed side by side with conversion, the experience whereby faith is ignited and man passes over from wrath to grace. Since it was believed that this could be done only through the Word, it was only logical to define repentance as the effect of the operation of Law and Gospel on man. Instead of saying that penance consists of contrition, confession, and satisfaction (as was done in the Middle Ages), it was said that the decisive experience in repentance consists of contrition and faith. The former results from the Law, the latter from the Gospel. By providing man with an insight into sin and into the wrath of God, the Law drives him to repentance. The Gospel, on the other hand, brings the assurance of the forgiveness of sin for Christ’s sake, which comforts the contrite conscience. The fruits of this faith are good works and the amendment of life. In the interest of clarity, the belief that good works play a role in repentance was rejected. In the strict sense, repentance consists only of contrition and faith.
In later orthodoxy these ideas concerning evangelical repentance were replaced and supplemented by a detailed discussion of the various acts whereby the Holy Spirit “applies” salvation to the individual (reference was made to the gratia Spiritus Sancti applicatrix). Included among the facets of this ordo salutis were the following: the call (vocatio), illumination, regeneration and conversion, renewal (renovatio), and the mystical union. This doctrine of the “order of grace” traced its origins far back in time—back to the Augustinian concept of grace. But it was the dogmaticians of late Lutheran orthodoxy who first gave this concept its distinctive form. It subsequently became a cardinal aspect of the theology of Pietism. The orthodox exposition emphasized, however, that the different concepts do not designate different stages which must be passed through. Such concepts as justification, conversion, and regeneration can be distinguished only in a logical sense, so that different aspects of the same experience might be illuminated.
g. Faith and works. The faith which is the “instrument” for justification (fides justificans) was described as notitia, assensus, and fiducia (in contrast to fides historica, the mere acceptance of the facts of faith). The knowledge (notitia) of faith refers to the divine Word set down in Scripture, which the believer assents to (assensus). As confidence (fiducia) faith directs itself to the divine grace promised in Christ.
Justification and regeneration are included in faith. Both refer to the forgiveness of sin, not to the actual transformation which is a result of faith (renovatio). In later orthodoxy reference was made in this connection to the mystical union as the acme of faith. When a man is born again, a “substantial” union takes place between God and the soul; the Holy Trinity comes to dwell within the believer.
The fruit of faith is good works. Renewal or the “new obedience” implies the beginning of the transformation of man into conformity with the image in which he was once created. Man’s deeds are good when they are in conformity with God’s law, but since no one can fulfill the Law, it is only because of faith that an act can be said to be good in the true sense. For it is because of faith that the faults which continue to inhere in man can be covered over, so that he can be reckoned as just before the judgment seat of God. Only those acts which originate in faith and a good conscience are good. The model for the exposition of Christian ethics was above all the Decalog, as interpreted in accordance with contemporary assumptions.
The purpose of good works is to glorify God and to promote the welfare of one’s neighbor. Man is not declared just because of his good works, for he is justified only by the faith which holds fast to Christ's atonement and to the mercy of God revealed therein.
The connection between faith and works is that the latter are the fruit of faith. That faith must be accompanied by an actual renewal is revealed in this, that it will be lost through “sins against conscience.” Such “conscious” transgressions indicate that renewal is lacking. When this is true, faith cannot be present either.
h. The sacraments, the church, and the last things. Baptism and the Lord’s Supper were looked upon as precise counterparts of the “sacraments” of the Old Testament, circumcision and the Passover. The latter are referred to as prototypes of the coming Messiah, while the New Testament sacraments set forth the Christ revealed in the flesh, i.e., the reality foretold in the prophecies of the Old Testament (figura—veritas; umbra—corpus). In spite of this difference, however, the purpose and the meaning was and is the same in both cases: to convey the heavenly gifts, promised in the words of institution, and to apply to the individual the promise of the forgiveness of sin, which belongs to the Gospel. This promise was first given in the Old Testament, although it is presented there in a “shadowy,” more imperfect way than in the New Testament, which bears witness to the incarnate Christ. Participation in His atoning work, in His body and blood, is the spiritual gift (res coelestis) which, in the power of the words of promise, is provided in, with, and under the external signs—the water in Baptism and the bread and wine in the Lord’s Supper. The presence of Christ in the Lord’s Supper was interpreted in essential agreement with the point of view represented by the more conservative Lutherans (Brenz, Chemnitz) and by the Formula of Concord.
The church was defined in accordance with Reformation presuppositions as eine heilige Gemeine, “the congregation of saints and believers,” in which the divine Word is preached in purity and the sacraments are properly administered. This congregation, which extends throughout the world and is united by the bonds of love, includes all who profess the Gospel and the sacraments. Among them are those who belong to the church only in an external way, as well as those who are true believers. Hence a distinction was made between the visible fellowship—the church as an external organization—and the invisible fellowship of those who are true and living members of the church. But until the Day of Judgment the latter group cannot be distinguished outwardly from those who are Christian in name only. The criteria which determine whether the church as such is true or false are, above all, the proper preaching of the Word and the proper administration of the sacraments.
The orthodox Lutheran ecclesiology is distinguished by its emphasis on the whole church, which is quite different from the fellowship concept which was introduced into Protestant theology later on. “The church,” or the congregation, is not simply the sum of a group of individuals brought together around a certain object; it is rather an organic unity, into which the individuals are placed as members in one another’s service. The concept of the church as then held also taught that the aim of spiritual and secular agencies is to sustain one and the same external fellowship, whether this be the family, the congregation, or the nation. It is within these natural groups or associations that the church comes into being, to the extent that they are leavened by the inner, invisible fellowship of the Spirit, communio sanctorum. Within the church (in the wider sense) there are three distinct orders or estates: the preaching office (ordo ecclesiasticus), the political estate or authority (ordo politicus), and the domestic estate, constituted through marriage (ordo oeconomicus). The first of these is designed to bring man to eternal blessedness; the second, to maintain order and to protect society; the third, to increase the race and provide mutual support.
The order of salvation, which had its beginning in time, will also terminate in time. Yet it has its goal in that which lies beyond the boundaries of time, in eternal life. Eschatology, the doctrine of the last things, has an important place in orthodox dogmatics. The end of man (a microcosm) is death, when the body is separated from the soul and disintegrates in the grave. At the end of time, on the “Last Day,” the resurrection of the dead will take place, followed by the final judgment, when each one shall be confronted again by the deeds of his life on earth. And just as man’s life ends in death, so also shall the entire present world (the macrocosm) go to meet its doom. This will be accomplished by fire, which shall destroy and consume everything (consummatio mundi). In the eternal existence, which shall follow the end of time, those who did evil will receive eternal death, and those who did good will receive eternal life. On the basis of these major concepts, developed on Biblical grounds, it was felt that the world order as well as the order of salvation would soon reach their final stages.
The Struggle Against Socinianism
The 16th century witnessed the upsurge of an antitrinitarian point of view which had its origins in Italy. In Transylvania and Poland, which were not reached by ecclesiastical persecution, organized congregations were established in which this point of view was upheld. In Poland a number of divided groups were united by Fausto Sozzini (in Latin, Socinus; d. 1604), who also became the foremost theologian of this movement. By the middle of the 17th century “Socinianism” was forbidden in Poland, and its organized existence came to an end soon thereafter. In the history of theology, however, this movement played a significant role: Socinianism, by its radical criticism of accepted dogma, prepared the way for the rationalistic theology of the Age of Enlightenment and also foreshadowed the modern concept of religion in many respects.
The rejection of the Socinian position played an important part in the orthodox Lutheran tradition. Based as it was in many ways on the heritage of late medieval nominalism and Renaissance humanism, Socinianism insisted that dogma or the content of Scripture—whose authority was accepted in a formal way—must be justified before the bar of sound human understanding. As a result the Socinians repudiated those doctrines which were thought to be opposed to reason. In their exposition of Scripture they established rational intelligibility and moral utility as the basic criteria.
Socinianism was, of course, antitrinitarian: the divinity of Christ and of the Holy Spirit was denied. Christ was looked upon as a mere man with a prophetic mission. The Holy Spirit was thought of as clothing more than a divine “power.” The Bible passages which said otherwise were radically reinterpreted. In opposition to these rationalistic tendencies, orthodox theologians vigorously asserted the Scriptural principle as the basis of their theology; the Socinians, as a matter of fact, considered reason to be the ultimate norm.
With respect to their anthropology the Socinians were Pelagian. Adam was not created to be immortal; the likeness of God in man, which was not lost in the Fall, merely consists of a certain dominion over creation. Original sin was denied, and man was said to have a free will with which to obey God. “The help of grace” was conceived of only as an expression for the threats and promises included in sermons. On all of these points, orthodox theology—as is evident from the previous sections—was implacably opposed to Socinianism.
It was the doctrine of the Atonement, however, which was probably the most controversial point involved in this dispute. Socinus and his followers attacked the orthodox idea of satisfaction from the ground up. They maintained that the righteousness of God does not demand atonement for sin. Righteousness is only something that characterizes God’s outward acts; it is not an “essential” quality, or one that is a part of His nature. God, of His free will and in “absolute goodness,” can forgive and bestow eternal life upon all who believe and strive to live in innocence. As a logical consequence of this the Socinians denied that Christ’s obedience has any substitutionary value and that His death provided satisfaction for man’s guilt. The death of Christ on the cross merely proved that Jesus was obedient, and the Resurrection confirmed His divine mission. The Bible passages which speak of atonement, redemption, etc., were freely reinterpreted. Christ’s work consisted only of this, that He showed man how to live a better life before God. In this we find “atonement.”
In refuting these ideas, the orthodox theologians set forth the following principles: There is an “essential” righteousness in God, according to which sinful man must be punished. But because He is also merciful, God desires to spare the human race. Thus it was that Christ came to bring merit and make satisfaction. The punishment which sin deserves has been transferred to Christ; as a result, God can receive sinners by grace without violating His righteousness. Hence we have this “wonderful combination of divine righteousness and mercy” (Gerhard, Loci, VII, 47b). Christ was set forth as the Mediator between God and man, who has freed us from the curse of the Law, from God’s wrath, and from eternal judgment. He is the Redeemer, the “Atonement for our sins.” Because of this, Christ is referred to as causa meritoria justificationis, the One who works our justification through His merit. His death was a satisfactio vicaria.
In this matter as well as on many other points—one could also mention the doctrine of the sacraments, for the Socinians also denied the regenerating effect of infant Baptism and the Real Presence of Christ in the Lord’s Supper—Socinianism appeared as a rationalistic critique of dogma. In somewhat different forms, and under more favorable conditions, this critique was frequently repeated in the new era which began with Pietism and the Enlightenment. Various characteristics of the modem Protestant interpretation of Christianity were already fully formed in Socinianism.
Lutheran orthodoxy, whose classical period began about the year 1600, was an extension of the tradition represented above all by the Lutheran confessional writings (the Book of Concord, 1580) and by the theologians (such as the previously mentioned Wigand and Chemnitz) who more thoroughly developed a corresponding point of view. The name of Aegidius Hunnius (d. 1592, teacher in Marburg) should also be included among the major precursors of the orthodox position.
In spite of its profound loyalty to the universal church and to the Lutheran tradition, classical orthodoxy nevertheless denotes a fresh beginning, not least of all with respect to its erudite reworking of theology. The new orientation which Lutheran orthodoxy represents can be associated with the philosophical school known as Neo-Aristotelianism. This school originated in certain south European seats of learning (Padua, Coimbra), but it secured a footing in the Protestant universities of Germany by the end of the 16th century. Here it gave birth to a Protestant scholastic metaphysics which in many respects provided the scientific presuppositions for the theology and science of that period. The scientific program of this metaphysics involved the revivification of Aristotelian metaphysics, coupled with the demand for a more radical revision of scientific principles. This scholastic metaphysics had in part a purely humanistic bent, as, for example, in the case of Cornelius Martini of Helmstedt, but at certain Lutheran universities it was combined with the orthodox Lutheran position, as, for example, in the case of Balthasar Meisner and Jakob Martini (both active in Wittenberg), and (later on) Christopher Scheibler in Giessen and the theologian Abraham Calov.
The influence exerted by scholastic philosophy upon orthodox Lutheran theology cannot be determined in any simple way, inasmuch as a sharp distinction was made between theology and philosophy. Even on this point the attempt was made (in principle, at least) to hold fast to the Reformation position. It was not, therefore, a question of a direct takeover of metaphysical concepts, or of the insertion of theology into a metaphysical system—something which would conflict with its own assumptions. At the same time, however, Neo-Aristotelian philosophy did play an important role in many ways in the theological development of that period. Its influence can be characterized from the following points of view:
Scholastic metaphysics placed the universal concepts of the world and of reality in clear formulae. It defined the intellectual assumptions of contemporary science in conceptual terms—assumptions which to a large extent also served as the basis of theological activity. The parallelism between Lutheran orthodoxy and scholastic philosophy is to be seen also in the fact that both flourished at the same time. Furthermore, both were superseded by other currents of thought at about the same time (early 18th century). The world view of scholastic philosophy was distinguished among other things by the Aristotelian concept of knowledge (one proceeds from external reality—both sensuous and supersensual—as the primary and immediate reality) as well as by the Aristotelian view of form (it is the form of things, and not their substance, which provides the reality accessible to knowledge). As a result, this point of view detached itself both from idealism and from the mechanical concept of the world. The acceptance of scholastic philosophy by theology was facilitated by the fact that the former based its universal concept of the world on a religious principle: it is God who is the highest reality (the absolute actuality or form) and also the ground and goal of all other reality.
Neo-Aristotelianism also gave rise to a thorough revision of the scientific method, a fact which influenced theological exposition as well. The leading philosopher in this sphere was Jacob Zabarella (teacher in Padua, d. 1589), who felt that there were only two ways to present a given proposition in all branches of science. He called the first ordo compositivus, which proceeds from principles to conclusions. The other is the ordo resolutivus, which begins with the goal in view and then sets forth ways to reach this goal. It was felt at the time, however, that theology, since it was outside the scientific sphere, was not bound to use either of these methods. Yet they were used to some extent also in theological exposition, as for example in the development of the Scriptural principle as the foundation of theology, and above all in the acceptance of the so-called analytical method. Attempts were being made as early as the beginning of the 17th century to orient the presentation of theology according to the method which was applicable to the so-called practical sciences, i.e., the above-named ordo resolutivus. A Lutheran, Balthasar Mentzer, and a Reformed theologian by the name of Keckermann were among those who made this attempt. They began with the belief that God is the eternal goal, and then proceeded to deal with the doctrine of man, the subject of theology, and finally with the means whereby man can attain eternal blessedness. This analytical method was generally accepted in Lutheran circles later on (cf. Calixtus and Calov) and replaced the older so-called “loci” method. The analytical method was an attempt to present theology in a more standardized form than was previously the case, i.e., to present it as a doctrine of salvation and of the means whereby this salvation can be attained. Also the theological treatises which employed this method, however, at the same time followed the order of the history of salvation, which is independent of philosophical methods. Theological developments in the 17th century led to an ever stricter systematic reworking of the enormous amount of material inherited from the older Lutheran tradition. The works of the later orthodox dogmaticians were often characterized by an endless number of artificial distinctions.
To the extent that it was accepted by theology, German scholastic philosophy served to strengthen the intellectual strain which characterized Lutheran orthodoxy. It also promoted a more pronounced scientific treatment of theological questions. By its use of philosophy, Lutheran orthodoxy was, in a way, provided with better means of preserving and passing on the Biblical and Reformation inheritance. It was not until this philosophical element was surrendered that the orthodox structure of theology began to seem to many to be a formalism alien to the essence of Christianity.
The orthodox exposition of doctrine rested primarily on arguments derived from the Bible. Similarly, a continuing study of the Scriptures formed the basis for theological education. The attachment to contemporary scholastic philosophy did not imply any fundamental confusion of the principles of faith and reason. It was agreed that the conceptual apparatus of philosophy should function only in the defense of faith or in the explanation of theological questions in the academic context. With respect to the content of doctrine, every rational argument must give way before the testimony of Scripture. On this point Lutheran orthodoxy dissociated itself both from medieval scholasticism and from contemporary Reformed orthodoxy, in which attempts were made (to some extent) to harmonize the content of revelation with the arguments of reason. Keckermann felt, for example, that the doctrine of the Trinity could be demonstrated philosophically, but the Lutherans disagreed. Their ideal was what Balthasar Meisner called asobria philosophia, i.e., a sober philosophy, which humbly subjects itself to the testimony of revealed truth.
But at the same time that dogmatic works were based on Scripture as the only foundation (the Scripture principle), the interpretation of the Bible was influenced in turn by the dogmatic view of the whole and by the doctrinaire attitude. The first attempts to interpret the Bible historically (in the modern sense of the term) were certainly made during the 17th century—not within the orthodox Lutheran tradition, however, but in other circles. The Dutch jurist and theologian Hugo Grotius was one who anticipated the modern point of view on this matter.
As already noted, orthodox Lutheran dogmatic expositions followed the order of the history of salvation: Creation, the Fall, Redemption, and the Last Things are the major points which always appear in such presentations. The doctrine of the Word and the doctrine of God are set forth first. The usual order in the various “loci” typically included the following: (1) the Holy Scriptures, (2) the Trinity (the doctrine of God, of Christ, of the Holy Spirit), (3) Creation, (4) Providence, (5) Predestination, (6) the Image of God, (7) the Fall of Man, (8) Sin, (9) Free Will, (10) the Law, (11) the Gospel, (12) Repentance, (13) Faith (justification), (14) Good Works, (15) the Sacraments, (16) the Church, (17) the Three Estates, and (18) the Last Things.
What we have here is an objective form of theology, quite different from the modern method of dogmatic exposition. Theology was then defined as a “teaching about God and divine things.” Revelation, as codified in Scripture, provided the point of departure, and not faith as something within the soul. Theology was usually conceived of as a “practical” discipline, but that meant only that it was designed for practical application, and not that it had its basis in the experience of faith. This point of view was first altered by Pietism.
The Scriptural principle excluded the principle of traditionalism (which looks upon tradition as the standard). But that fact notwithstanding, the weight of tradition assumed a very prominent place within orthodox theology. Gerhard’s ideal was an “evangelical-catholic theology,” a Reformation point of view, that is, which can be found in the theological tradition preserved throughout all the centuries of Christian history. The dogmatics of classical orthodoxy was characterized by a copious use of the material provided by patristic sources and (to a lesser degree) scholastic theology. Augustine exerted by far the strongest influence in this area.
With respect to its versatile comprehension of theological material and the breadth of its knowledge of the Bible, Lutheran orthodoxy marks the high point in the entire history of theology. And it was not only the contemporary tradition or the next preceding tradition which provided the material for the great Lutheran doctrinal expositions of the 17th century, but to an even greater extent it was the Bible and patristic sources.
The method employed was quite different from the one used by dogmaticians today. It was not felt that theology had to be presented in a uniform way, by placing an emphasis on certain basic ideas. On the contrary, the dogmaticians of the 17th century believed that it was their task to reproduce the infinite richness of the Biblical revelation. As a result of this attitude, their minds were open to all of the details in the tradition which had been handed down, but this method also led to an endless division of questions and to a difficulty in distinguishing between the essential and the non-essential. Attempts were made to systematize this effort, but they were not successful. For example, the analytical method was an attempt to arrange the entire doctrinal exposition under a single point of view: How shall man reach his highest goal, eternal blessedness? A similar tendency can be seen in the concept of the so-called fundamental articles: only one part of the content of faith could be said to be necessary to salvation, while other portions of doctrine are only of secondary importance.
Representatives of Lutheran Orthodoxy; Its Stages of Development
Properly speaking, the era of Lutheran orthodoxy ranged over the entire 17th century, but one can distinguish between the classical period in the first half of the century and a later phase which began with the Peace of Westphalia (1648). This latter period was characterized by a struggle against syncretism and a rigorous systematizing of the Lutheran tradition, as well as by a more doctrinaire attitude.
The chief representatives of the older, classical orthodoxy were Leonhard Hutter (d. 1616, teacher in Wittenberg) and Johann Gerhard (d. 1637, Hutter’s disciple, active for the most part in Jena). Hutter’s concise treatment of dogmatics, Compendium locorum theologicorum, ex Scripturis Sacris et Libro Concordiae collectum (1610), to a large extent replaced Melanchthon’s Loci as a textbook.
Gerhard, the foremost dogmatician of Lutheran orthodoxy, continued to build on the Reformation tradition (chiefly on the basis of Chemnitz’ work), but he also laid the foundation for the theological activity which followed. The best known of his writings is the Loci theologici (1610–25), which is a comprehensive treatment of the evangelical doctrinal position, based on a particularly wide range of material. His Confessio catholica (1633–37) sought to refute the objections of contemporary Roman Catholic theology with quotations taken from the Church of Rome’s own tradition. Gerhard also wrote Bible commentaries, devotional works such as the popular Meditationes sacrae (1606), homiletical treatises (Postilla, 1613), disputations, and a detailed exposition of the ethics of the life of faith, Schola pietatis (1621).
Nikolaus Hunnius (d. 1643) is best known for his theory of the fundamental articles—the idea that only certain points of doctrine, and not the entire content of Scripture, ought to be looked upon as necessary to salvation and as constituting the theological position. Hunnius’ summary of the doctrine of faith, Epitome credendorum (1625), has been widely used.
Matthias Hafenreffer of Tübingen was also active during this period. His Compendium doctrinae coelestis, an abridged edition of his Loci of the year 1600, was still being used as a textbook a hundred years later (in Sweden, for example).
A somewhat divergent position was represented by the prominent Helmstedt theologian Georg Calixtus (d. 1656), who believed that the different confessions could be united on the basis of the consensus quinquesaecularis, the oldest Christian tradition, recognized by all as a foundation of doctrine. This so-called syncretistic concept was further developed by his followers, members of the “Helmstedt school.” The struggle against syncretism left a definite mark on Lutheran orthodoxy in the latter part of the 17th century.
The chief opponent of syncretism was Abraham Calov (d. 1686, professor in Wittenberg), who perpetuated the tradition associated with Gerhard but who also accentuated these ideas in a doctrinaire and polemical manner. His magnum opus was the voluminous Systema locorum theologicorum (1655–77). Other dogmatic works of the latter part of the 17th century were similarly characterized by a more strongly systematic reworking of the orthodox tradition, as well as by an increasingly incisive logical definition of the various doctrinal problems. In this category we find Johann Friedrich König’s Theologia positiva acroamatica (1661), and Johann Andreas Quenstedt’s Theologia didacticopolemica (1685). A more concise treatment can be seen in Johann Wilhelm Baier’s Compendium (1686).
David Hollaz’ Examen theologico-acroamaticum (1707) is usually referred to as the last great doctrinal system produced by Lutheran orthodoxy. The influence of Pietism can be noted in this work, but it is at the same time a meticulous presentation of the orthodox Lutheran tradition.
The theology of northern Europe was closely related to that of Germany in this period. In Sweden the older orthodoxy was represented by Olaus Martini, Johannes Rudbeck, and Paulinus Gothus (Ethica Christiana, 1617–30), and in Denmark by Jesper Brochmand, whose comprehensive Systema universae theologiae (1633) won great respect. Somewhat later on, Swedish theology was represented by Johannes Matthiae, who set forth syncretistic ideas, and by Olaus Laurelius, who defended the strict orthodox position.
The following summary of some major ideas of orthodox dogmatics is based primarily on the older, classical orthodoxy, as represented by Leonhard Hutter and Johann Gerhard. Later treatises in the field of dogmatics are rather different in many respects.
Chief Characteristics of Orthodox Lutheran Theology
a. The Holy Scriptures; the Word as a means of grace. As we have already noted, the Holy Scriptures were looked upon as theology’s only “principle,” or as its fundamental presupposition. This meant that the teachings of the Bible were to be followed even when they seemed to oppose reason, as well as when they seemed to contradict ecclesiastical tradition.
The Holy Scriptures were equated with the Word of God. The idea of an oral apostolic tradition, preserved by the clergy, was rejected. The Bible certainly evolved out of an original, oral proclamation, but for the present church it is the only authentic source of the prophetic and apostolic witness. The Roman Catholic principle of tradition was thereby repudiated.
When God’s Word is equated with Holy Scripture, this assumes that the external Word or “letter” is not thought of as something external to the underlying meaning, but that the concept of “Scripture” refers to the inner (meaning, content) as well as to the external, of which the inner or the “formal” (to use the philosophic terminology of the time) is basic. The Aristotelian conception of form supplied the orthodox view of Scripture with a quality lacking in the Biblicism of later years, which frequently ascribed divine dignity to a rational, literal interpretation.
The formation of the doctrine of inspiration can be seen in connection with this. That Scripture is the Word of God is based on the fact that it is divinely inspired. This signified, in the older orthodox tradition, that prophets and apostles were entrusted with a divine mission to take down and to pass on in writing the message which they had received from God and had first proclaimed orally. By virtue of this mission the divine Word has been preserved in Scripture without error or deficiency. Scripture is therefore an infallible norm for Christian faith and conduct, and the judge in all doctrinal controversy (norma fidei, judex controversiarum).
When reference is made to Scripture’s “perfection” or “sufficiency,” this means that Scripture, as the only theological principle, includes all that one needs to know to be saved—“that Scripture fully and perfectly instructs us concerning all things necessary for attaining salvation.” (Gerhard, Loci, Cotta ed., II, 286a)
The general rule applied to the exegesis of Scripture was that Scripture is clear in itself (per se evidens) and can therefore serve as its own interpreter (sui ipsius interpres). This follows from what has already been said, for if Scripture is the only and sufficient norm of faith, then its content must be accessible to understanding, insofar as this content is necessary for faith. Difficult passages should be interpreted with the help of clearer ones. As a general rule, interpretation must agree with the analogy of faith, i.e., with the doctrine of faith as clearly set forth in Scripture. Great weight was attached to the literal interpretation. There can be only one original meaning, sensus literalis. Allegorical expositions were also recognized, but they were looked upon as a posteriori figurative applications—unless they were intended by the text itself, as was thought to be the case in the Song of Solomon, thus constituting its original sensus literalis. This concept did not imply a historical interpretation in the modern sense, but it rather pointed, in general, to the meaning originally intended by the Holy Spirit. Typology or allegory was looked upon (even where suggested by the text itself) as an application and not as an original “mystical” meaning in the text. In later orthodoxy, reference was made to a real duplex sensus, i.e., a literal and a mystical meaning in one and the same text.
A controversy which took place in the 1620s throws considerable light on the concept of Scripture. The question involved concerned the effectiveness of the Word and the relation between the Word and the Spirit. Hermann Rahtmann (pastor in Danzig) had said (referring, in part, to Johann Arndt) that the Word in itself would only be a dead letter. A man can be converted only with the cooperation of the Spirit. Rahtmann thus distinguished between the external Word and the inner Word, the latter being identical with the power of the Spirit. As he saw it, the fact that so few are influenced by preaching can be explained in no other way. The orthodox theologians, including Gerhard, were critical of this trend of thought. They maintained that just as the Word is in itself inspired and full of divine authority, so also does it have the power to bring a man to conversion. The Spirit is therefore directly related to the Word, and He constantly uses the Word as a means through which to do His work. It was also asserted—as the ultimate consequence of this—that the Word possesses its spiritual effectiveness even before it is used (extra usum). But this brought them, in a way, into an untenable position, since the efficacy of the Word always presupposes its use. The conclusion was comprehensible, however, if seen in association with the Aristotelian conception of form, which was employed here. According to this, “the Word” is not so many letters or a book (the Bible), but living content. The position taken in the dispute with Rahtmann was simply a consequence of the doctrine of the Word’s authority and inspiration. The rejection of spiritualism was a basic characteristic of the orthodox tradition. The Spirit does not work beside the Word or independently of it, but in and with the divine Word as it is heard or read.
b. The doctrine of God. In some ways the entire orthodox dogmatic position constitutes a “doctrine of God.” The doctrine of Creation and the order of salvation are connected to the exposition of God’s being (the Trinity, Christology, etc.) as a description of God’s will, manifested in His work. Reference is also made to God as theology’s “principle of being” (principium essendi): to the extent that He has revealed Himself, God is Himself the cause of our knowledge of Him. Just as the things of the world around us influence the intellect and thereby elicit sensuous and conceptual knowledge, so also is God’s manifestation of Himself—His emergence in His words and works—the direct cause of our knowledge of Him. This basic idea was a common assumption in orthodox theology.
A distinction was made between natural and supernatural knowledge of God. The latter is that given once through the prophets and apostles, now to be found in the Holy Scriptures. The former is in part congenital, in part acquired (notitia insita et acquisita). The congenital knowledge of God was looked upon as an insight put into the heart of man at the time of Creation; after the Fall this was reduced to weak reminiscences of the original, perfect light which once illuminated the soul. It merely includes the idea that God is, that He is almighty, etc.—examples of which can be found in heathen forms of worship (el. Rom. 1:19). To this must be added the conscience, which is also a congenital faculty, enabling man to distinguish between right and wrong (cf. Rom. 2:14–15). A conception of God can also be found in this, indirectly, inasmuch as the natural knowledge of the Law (lex naturae) presupposes the question: Who established this law? The accusations of the conscience, while they may be vague or suppressed, nevertheless convey the realization that there is someone who punishes evil deeds. The acquired knowledge of God is that which is attained through inferences based on our observations of created things. On this point the “proofs” of the existence of God which were developed by the medieval scholastics were by and large taken over—e.g., the “causal” proof (the chain of causes presupposes an ultimate or first cause) and the “teleological” proof (the appearance of a certain purposefulness in creation presupposes that someone conceived of the purposes in question). It ought to be noted that the natural knowledge of God was thought of as a part of revelation—in keeping with the idea (mentioned above) that all our knowledge of God has its basis in the fact that God has revealed Himself, either through the work of creation or through the Word.
This natural knowledge of God has been vitiated, and it is entirely insufficient for achieving salvation. Since it is largely limited to an insight into the fact that God is, our knowledge of what God is like—knowledge of His nature and attributes—must be secured above all from the Holy Scriptures. Teachings about the attributes of God are, for the most part, a systematic exposition of what the Bible tells us about Him. This method does not provide us with an adequate knowledge of God—for “God dwells in a light to which no one can come”—it merely supplies us with certain lessons which are necessary to faith and are adapted to our ability to comprehend. A distinction is made between the inner attributes, those that are intrinsic to divinity in itself (e.g., that the being of God is spiritual and invisible, eternal and everywhere present), and the external attributes, those that appear in relation to creation (e.g., God’s omnipotence, righteousness, and truthfulness). The very division into attributes is in itself an adaptation to our imperfect ability to understand: the fact of the matter is that God’s qualities are not accidental, but identical with His nature. God, for example, is not simply “truthful” but “Truthfulness itself” (ipsa veritas). It has often been said that the orthodox position with respect to the attributes of God is just so much abstract speculation, a learned embellishment of the Christian faith. But this is a misunderstanding, for these doctrinal statements give expression, in many cases, to fundamental concepts which are necessary assumptions for theology in general. The concept of divine omnipotence, for example, provides the background for the trust in providence which is characteristic of Lutheran piety, and the concept of righteousness is fundamental to the doctrine of the Atonement.
The doctrine of the Trinity was developed in association with the patristic tradition, above all the Symbolum quicunque (the Athanasian Creed). Special weight was attached to the evidence of Scripture. Reference was made to the creation account in the Old Testament, for example, where we are told about God’s Word and about God’s Spirit, which “hovered over the waters.” In the New Testament, reference was made to the description of Jesus’ baptism (Matt. 3:16–17) or to the command to baptize (Matt. 28:19). The following are some of the fundamental points of view presented: The intratrinitarian distinctions between the Persons lie in the fact that the Father is neither begotten nor created (αγεννησια), the Son is begotten of the Father (γεννησια), and the Spirit is neither begotten nor created but proceeds from the Father and the Son (εχπορευσις). With respect to Creation, the Persons can be distinguished by the fact that Creation is first of all ascribed to the Father, redemption to the Son, and sanctification to the Spirit. At the same time, however, all three Persons cooperate in these activities; the external work of the Trinity is indivisible.
The Scriptural evidence of the divinity of the Son and the Spirit was elaborated with great care, not least of all because it provided the Lutherans with one of their main arguments in the struggle with Socinianism (on which more will follow).
Christology was set forth as a “doctrine of Christ’s Person and work.” In agreement with the formulation of the ancient church, Christ was spoken of as “true God” and “true man.” The crucial question had to do with how the union of the two “natures” in the one person is to be understood. The teaching of the unio personalis became, therefore, the central point in Lutheran Christology. The figures that were used in an attempt to illustrate this union were not satisfactory. It was suggested, for example, that it could be illustrated by the union of body and soul, or by the glowing iron which is a union of iron and fire. Christology does not, as a matter of fact, suggest that two elements have blended together to form a third; it rather asserts that Christ is simultaneously God and man. The body of Christ is not to be found apart from the Logos, the divine nature, and the Logos (subsequent to the Incarnation) is not to be found apart from the body of Christ. On this point the Lutherans disagreed with the Calvinists, who maintained that the body of Christ is confined to heaven, while Christ as spirit is everywhere present and therefore exists also apart from the body (an idea expressed by the term extra calvinisticum).
The unio personalis concept indicates that God and man have united in Christ in such a way that they form one person. That “the Word became flesh” must not, however, be understood as an alteration of the flesh into divine nature. Neither has divinity simply manifested itself in bodily form—as though this were a temporary form of revelation (comparable to the Old Testament accounts which tell us how God revealed Himself in human form). But the unio personalis implies that the Logos, the Second Person of the Godhead, assumed to Himself the “person” (or hypostasis) of the human nature. In other words, orthodox Lutheranism accepted the ideas which were given their classical expression by John of Damascus (enhypostasis theology), with the exception of some of his Platonic points of view.
As a result of holding to the unio personalis, the Lutherans also taught a communicatio naturarum and a communicatio idiomatum. “Communication of natures” refers to the fact that the divine and human natures stand in the closest communion with one another, that the divine nature permeates and perfects the human, and at the same time that the latter imparts itself to the divine. Because of this communion between the two natures, what is true of the one can be predicated of the other. One can say, for example, “God’s Son is man” or, “The man Jesus is God.” At the same time, however, both natures remain separate and distinct; the divine nature is not transformed into the human, nor the human into the divine.
The “communication of attributes” concept, which was borrowed from an earlier tradition, expressed similar convictions. As a consequence of the communicatio naturarum, the different attributes which distinguish the natures also belong to Christ as a person and therefore also interact upon one another in the most intimate manner. The one nature shares in the attributes of the other, and both natures share in the attributes of the person. The various instances of communicatio idiomatum which can be seen in the Biblical picture of Christ are limited, however, to three kinds, or genera (cf. the Formula of Concord). The first, genus idiomaticum, implies that the attributes of one nature can also be ascribed to the whole person of Christ. So when it is said of Jesus Christ, for example, that He is “the same yesterday and today and forever,” this means that a divine attribute is ascribed to Him; or when it is said that “Christ is born of the Virgin Mary,” “Christ is of David’s seed,” then a human attribute is ascribed to Him. The same is true when human attributes are ascribed to Christ as God, as when we read, “They crucified the Lord of glory” (1 Cor. 2:8). The second kind, genus majestaticum, implies that the divine nature imparts its majesty and glory to the human nature, without itself sharing in the suffering of the flesh. This can be illustrated from the words, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Me” (Matt. 28:18), or from John 6:51 ff., where it is said that to eat the body of Christ will enable a man to “live forever.” There is no reciprocity in such a case, however, for while divine qualities can be said to be communicated to the human nature, human qualities are not communicated to the divine nature, which is unchangeable and eternal. The doctrine of the ubiquity of the body of Christ belongs to this genus. The third kind, genus apotelesmaticum, concerns the deeds performed by Christ. Each of the natures was active in these according to its own peculiarities, while the other nature also participated. So when we read that “Christ died for our sins” or that “Christ teaches” or that “He gave Himself as an offering to God,” such statements belong to this genus.
The distinction between our Lord’s “state of humiliation” and His “state of exaltation” is given a certain significance in the light of this communicatio doctrine. The former refers to Jesus’ life on earth; the latter to His condition following the death on the cross, including His descent into hell, His resurrection, His ascension, and His being seated on the right hand of the Father. About the year 1620 two theological schools (Tübingen and Giessen) became involved in a dispute concerning Christ’s divine attributes during the state of humiliation. Some argued that He possessed these attributes even then, but that He hid His majesty (χρυψις); this was the Tübingen position. The Giessen theologians, on the other hand, asserted that Christ actually laid aside His divine attributes during this period, divested Himself of His majesty (χενωσις). This arcane question was not settled conclusively, but neither did it lead to a deeper schism. It was agreed that Christ certainly did possess His divine majesty throughout His entire life on earth, but that He did not always make use of it.
The Protestant tradition (Calvin, Gerhard) was the first to refer to Christ’s threefold office (as prophet, priest, and king), thereby providing a summary description of Christ’s work as mediator and Lord. This concept, which is supported by many passages in Scripture, holds that as “king” Christ reigns over the faithful and all creation, that as “priest” He presented the perfect sacrifice for the sins of the world and now intercedes for His own, and also that as “prophet” He proclaimed God’s eternal decree of salvation and continually works in the congregation through the office of the Word.
The kingly office was originally thought of as Christ’s dominion over the faithful, protecting the church on earth, but in the orthodox Lutheran tradition (beginning with Gerhard) this concept also came to include His authority over all creation. Reference is made to the “kingdom of power,” extending over heaven and earth; the “kingdom of grace,” which coincides with Christ’s activity in the congregation; and the “kingdom of glory,” the glorious kingdom which is to come.
The priestly office, the office of the high priest, includes Christ’s work of reconciliation—His fulfilling of the Law and His substitionary suffering (obedientia activa et passiva), the complete redemption of the human race, and the satisfaction He made for the sins of the world (satisfactio vicaria). Christ’s continued intercession for man before the Father also belongs to this office (intercessio).
The prophetic office involves the message brought by Christ, His institution of the office of the Word and of the sacraments, plus the work which He will carry out in the church through the preaching office until His return. These three offices do not refer to separate stages of Christ’s work; they rather designate different facets of the ongoing work of salvation.
c. Creation and man’s fall. The work of Creation (in six days) was based exclusively upon God’s free decision. The one Triune God brought forth out of nothing (ex nihilo) all that there is, both visible and invisible. There was a time when matter did not exist. But at the time of Creation God first brought forth an unformed mass, out of which the visible world was subsequently given form and order. The creation was, from the beginning, good; its evil and defective aspects have come in by degrees. God created the world for His glory, but also for man’s good.
Man—the crown of creation and an “epitome” of the universe, a “microcosm”—was created in God’s “image” and “likeness” (Gen. 1:26). These Biblical terms are interpreted as two expressions of the same reality. The likeness of God, imago Dei, is defined (partly in connection with Eph. 4:24) as an original, native form of righteousness and holiness. This signifies the perfection and harmony of a whole man: in his understanding, wisdom, and knowledge of God; in his will, righteousness, and conformity to God’s law. To this must be added immortality. This original condition was “natural,” i.e., given in and with creation and not a supernatural gift.
The Fall—man’s transgression of God’s command, induced by the devil’s guile—brought about the loss of original righteousness (justitia originalis). As a result of this—since perfection was “natural”—man was totally corrupted. And because of the unity of the race, this corruption has been transmitted from generation to generation via physical birth. In place of the original righteousness, a condition of guilt (reatus) and an inclination toward evil (concupiscentia) have entered in through “original sin” (peccatum originis). Man stands under the wrath of God; unless he is regenerated, he is subject to temporal and eternal punishment. Death is directly related to sin. Death did not, therefore, reign over man at the beginning; it was not a part of man’s nature at creation but has come as a result of his transgression. Life presupposes righteousness, that is, an inner harmony between spiritual and physical powers, and an unbroken relationship to God.
There is a scrupulous parallel between the original righteousness or perfection, the corruption which entered through the Fall (original sin), and the new creation which comes into being through Word and Sacrament. The life which was lost through Adam’s fall is born anew through faith in Christ’s atoning work.
d. Providence and predestination. The orthodox concept of providence is directly related to the doctrine of creation, and forms a necessary complement thereto. As seen from one point of view, providence (providentia) is nothing other than creatio continuata, continued creation. God did not only create things in the beginning; He also preserves them in their continued existence. Apart from this preservation (conservatio) they would be unable to exist or work in accordance with their nature. “Created things do not subsist by their own power, but ‘God upholds the universe by His word of power,’ Heb. 1:3” (Gerhard, Loci, Cotta ed., IV, 83a). The existence of men and things, their movement and activity, presupposes God’s perpetual creative and sustaining cooperation. It is God who enables the sun to rise, who gives bread its nourishing power, herbs their ability to heal, etc. Without this continued cooperation things would lack their natural effectiveness.
Similarly all that happens, all events—with preservation of man’s freedom of will and of natural causes—are completely subject to God’s direct guidance and supervision; nothing takes place apart from His will. Furthermore, He directs everything to the goal He has selected. In God’s care of creation, man occupies the foremost place. God’s purposes for man (who is an “epitome of the world”) form the center of the course of world history, particularly the goal which has been established for the faithful in the order of salvation. Here we can apply the well-known words, “In everything God works for good with those who love Him” (Rom. 8:28). God’s active management of events is referred to as gubernatio, in distinction from conservatio.
As seen from another point of view, providence also includes the foreknowledge (praescientia) of God, which means, to speak more precisely, that God, dwelling in a perpetual “now,” sees all and knows all. Because God is eternal, the boundaries of time are abrogated for Him. God’s active will to care for the world and man is intimately associated with His foreknowledge—the eternal decision concerning all that subsequently happens in time.
In the later orthodox tradition the doctrine of providence—as was true of so many other points of doctrine—was divided into many different concepts and definitions, and as a result the general picture was quickly obscured. There can be no doubt, however, about the essential significance of this doctrine for the Lutheran position taken as a whole. It has influenced both individual piety and the general world view to a like extent.
But how is God related to evil? This question has posed problems of particular difficulty. The Calvinistic concept, which taught that God preordained and carried out evil in accordance with His hidden will, was rejected by the Lutherans. As Melanchthon said, we cannot conceive of God having two contradictory wills. And yet it can be said that God is actively involved in evil deeds in many different ways: He upholds man and man’s natural abilities while evil is being done; He permits evil to happen; He abandons those who do evil; and finally, He sets limits thereto according to His free pleasure and can turn evil to good. When God “hardened the heart of Pharoah,” this was not the result of “predestination” to evil; it was punishment for Pharoah’s impenitence.
And with that we have touched upon the problem of predestination. Lutheran orthodoxy solved this in general agreement with the Formula of Concord. It was said that predestination, or election, refers only to those who come to believe in Christ and who remain in this faith to the end. God chose them for eternal life in Christ prior to the creation of the world. On the other hand, reprobation concerns those who persist in unbelief and impenitence to the end. They receive the just judgment of eternal death. This too is based on an eternal “decree.”
But neither of these decrees is unconditioned: Election is carried through for Christ’s sake and is based on the fact that God foresees who will remain faithful to the end (ex praevisa fide). Reprobation, on the other hand, is based on the fact that God foresees who will remain impenitent to the end.
The orthodox Lutheran doctrine of predestination adhered to what might be called an imperfect, logically incomplete theory: On the one hand, God alone is the source of man’s salvation (which lies in predestination), while on the other, it is not God but man’s own evil which leads to rejection. The question of God’s omnipotence was deliberately omitted in this context, which suggests that justice was not done to the ideas which Luther set forth in his De servo arbitrio. On the other hand, however, the Calvinistic concept of double predestination was clearly repudiated.
e. Free will. The doctrine “Of Free Will” (De libero arbitrio) played an important role in the dogmatic structure of orthodox Lutheranism. But it must be said that the question concerning the relation of the will to predestination was not dealt with here in a specific way (which is rather surprising); the dogmaticians rather emphasized the synergistic problem, which involves the question of whether or not the human will is able to cooperate in spiritual things prior to or in the experience of conversion. This question was answered by saying that man, in specific respects, lacks free will. He is in bondage (servum arbitrium) through sin and is therefore unable to do good spiritually; he cannot, as a result, cooperate in his conversion. Hence the position set down in the Formula of Concord was accepted, and the point of view enunciated by Melanchthon was rejected (together with the grosser forms of synergism).
In the dogmatic locus De libero arbitrio this question was placed in a broader context. The problem of determinism was not really dealt with, nor the psychological problem of the function and nature of the will (even though such problems are touched upon tangentially here and there). The subject is rather this: the wholeness of man as seen in the context of the order of salvation. In agreement with Augustine and the medieval tradition reference is made to man “before the Fall,” “after the Fall but before conversion,” to “the regenerate man,” and finally to “man after the resurrection.” The freedom of the will in relation to its ability to do what is good in a spiritual sense is categorized in these various stages: In his original condition man was free to do good, as a result of his native righteousness; after the Fall the condition described above prevails—man is completely unable to do what is good; through regeneration man’s freedom is partially restored, so that he can cooperate with grace and fight against sin; the condition of the consummation implies final release from the thraldom of sin.
The question in this context did not concern freedom as a psychological fact (i.e., whether or not the volitional act has a “voluntary” character), but it rather concerned freedom in relation to the object chosen. On this point a distinction was drawn between physical things (res corporales), i. e., the “lower hemisphere” or “social good,” and spiritual things (res spirituales), i. e., true fear of God, pure love, and so on. With respect to the former it was said that a certain amount of freedom remained even after the Fall. Man can, to a certain degree, bring about external, civil righteousness. But with respect to the latter, freedom (as already noted) was entirely lost—which means that man is unable to cooperate in his salvation or produce what is good before God.
f. Law and Gospel; repentance. We have already spoken of the Word as a means of grace. The function of the divine Word in the order of salvation is further elucidated by the doctrine of Law and Gospel. It is by virtue of the operation of Law and Gospel—and only through this—that man can be converted and pass over from death and wrath to life. This is also called repentance (poenitentia).
What is the Law? In answer to this question, the definition suggested by Melanchthon was accepted: the Law is an “eternal and unchangeable wisdom and rule for righteousness with God.” This lex aeterna is reflected in the righteousness of the first man, and subsequently in the Decalog given at Sinai. It not only demands external deeds but that man agrees in all things with the will of God (lex spiritualis). This is the Law which Christ fulfilled in a perfect way through His obedience and which provides the pattern for the pious and holy life of the Christian estate in this world, as well as for the perfection which we anticipate in the life to come.
Because man is unable to fulfill the Law’s demands, it is not a rule for the conduct of his life. Instead, the Law serves to reveal sin, to accuse man, and to condemn all who are not released from the curse of the Law by the grace made available through Christ’s atonement. Forgiveness is pronounced through the Gospel, which, unlike the Law, is not known to human reason; it is only revealed through God’s Word, spoken to prophets and apostles. The Gospel, as a proclamation of Christ’s complete redemption, is a consoling and edifying message. The idea that the Gospel also accuses man of sin, thus supplementing the Law, was rejected. In the strict sense of the term, the Law is the word which threatens, accuses, and condemns, while the Gospel comforts, edifies, and saves.
The evangelical concept of repentance was developed in direct connection with the doctrine of Law and Gospel. Repentance was placed side by side with conversion, the experience whereby faith is ignited and man passes over from wrath to grace. Since it was believed that this could be done only through the Word, it was only logical to define repentance as the effect of the operation of Law and Gospel on man. Instead of saying that penance consists of contrition, confession, and satisfaction (as was done in the Middle Ages), it was said that the decisive experience in repentance consists of contrition and faith. The former results from the Law, the latter from the Gospel. By providing man with an insight into sin and into the wrath of God, the Law drives him to repentance. The Gospel, on the other hand, brings the assurance of the forgiveness of sin for Christ’s sake, which comforts the contrite conscience. The fruits of this faith are good works and the amendment of life. In the interest of clarity, the belief that good works play a role in repentance was rejected. In the strict sense, repentance consists only of contrition and faith.
In later orthodoxy these ideas concerning evangelical repentance were replaced and supplemented by a detailed discussion of the various acts whereby the Holy Spirit “applies” salvation to the individual (reference was made to the gratia Spiritus Sancti applicatrix). Included among the facets of this ordo salutis were the following: the call (vocatio), illumination, regeneration and conversion, renewal (renovatio), and the mystical union. This doctrine of the “order of grace” traced its origins far back in time—back to the Augustinian concept of grace. But it was the dogmaticians of late Lutheran orthodoxy who first gave this concept its distinctive form. It subsequently became a cardinal aspect of the theology of Pietism. The orthodox exposition emphasized, however, that the different concepts do not designate different stages which must be passed through. Such concepts as justification, conversion, and regeneration can be distinguished only in a logical sense, so that different aspects of the same experience might be illuminated.
g. Faith and works. The faith which is the “instrument” for justification (fides justificans) was described as notitia, assensus, and fiducia (in contrast to fides historica, the mere acceptance of the facts of faith). The knowledge (notitia) of faith refers to the divine Word set down in Scripture, which the believer assents to (assensus). As confidence (fiducia) faith directs itself to the divine grace promised in Christ.
Justification and regeneration are included in faith. Both refer to the forgiveness of sin, not to the actual transformation which is a result of faith (renovatio). In later orthodoxy reference was made in this connection to the mystical union as the acme of faith. When a man is born again, a “substantial” union takes place between God and the soul; the Holy Trinity comes to dwell within the believer.
The fruit of faith is good works. Renewal or the “new obedience” implies the beginning of the transformation of man into conformity with the image in which he was once created. Man’s deeds are good when they are in conformity with God’s law, but since no one can fulfill the Law, it is only because of faith that an act can be said to be good in the true sense. For it is because of faith that the faults which continue to inhere in man can be covered over, so that he can be reckoned as just before the judgment seat of God. Only those acts which originate in faith and a good conscience are good. The model for the exposition of Christian ethics was above all the Decalog, as interpreted in accordance with contemporary assumptions.
The purpose of good works is to glorify God and to promote the welfare of one’s neighbor. Man is not declared just because of his good works, for he is justified only by the faith which holds fast to Christ's atonement and to the mercy of God revealed therein.
The connection between faith and works is that the latter are the fruit of faith. That faith must be accompanied by an actual renewal is revealed in this, that it will be lost through “sins against conscience.” Such “conscious” transgressions indicate that renewal is lacking. When this is true, faith cannot be present either.
h. The sacraments, the church, and the last things. Baptism and the Lord’s Supper were looked upon as precise counterparts of the “sacraments” of the Old Testament, circumcision and the Passover. The latter are referred to as prototypes of the coming Messiah, while the New Testament sacraments set forth the Christ revealed in the flesh, i.e., the reality foretold in the prophecies of the Old Testament (figura—veritas; umbra—corpus). In spite of this difference, however, the purpose and the meaning was and is the same in both cases: to convey the heavenly gifts, promised in the words of institution, and to apply to the individual the promise of the forgiveness of sin, which belongs to the Gospel. This promise was first given in the Old Testament, although it is presented there in a “shadowy,” more imperfect way than in the New Testament, which bears witness to the incarnate Christ. Participation in His atoning work, in His body and blood, is the spiritual gift (res coelestis) which, in the power of the words of promise, is provided in, with, and under the external signs—the water in Baptism and the bread and wine in the Lord’s Supper. The presence of Christ in the Lord’s Supper was interpreted in essential agreement with the point of view represented by the more conservative Lutherans (Brenz, Chemnitz) and by the Formula of Concord.
The church was defined in accordance with Reformation presuppositions as eine heilige Gemeine, “the congregation of saints and believers,” in which the divine Word is preached in purity and the sacraments are properly administered. This congregation, which extends throughout the world and is united by the bonds of love, includes all who profess the Gospel and the sacraments. Among them are those who belong to the church only in an external way, as well as those who are true believers. Hence a distinction was made between the visible fellowship—the church as an external organization—and the invisible fellowship of those who are true and living members of the church. But until the Day of Judgment the latter group cannot be distinguished outwardly from those who are Christian in name only. The criteria which determine whether the church as such is true or false are, above all, the proper preaching of the Word and the proper administration of the sacraments.
The orthodox Lutheran ecclesiology is distinguished by its emphasis on the whole church, which is quite different from the fellowship concept which was introduced into Protestant theology later on. “The church,” or the congregation, is not simply the sum of a group of individuals brought together around a certain object; it is rather an organic unity, into which the individuals are placed as members in one another’s service. The concept of the church as then held also taught that the aim of spiritual and secular agencies is to sustain one and the same external fellowship, whether this be the family, the congregation, or the nation. It is within these natural groups or associations that the church comes into being, to the extent that they are leavened by the inner, invisible fellowship of the Spirit, communio sanctorum. Within the church (in the wider sense) there are three distinct orders or estates: the preaching office (ordo ecclesiasticus), the political estate or authority (ordo politicus), and the domestic estate, constituted through marriage (ordo oeconomicus). The first of these is designed to bring man to eternal blessedness; the second, to maintain order and to protect society; the third, to increase the race and provide mutual support.
The order of salvation, which had its beginning in time, will also terminate in time. Yet it has its goal in that which lies beyond the boundaries of time, in eternal life. Eschatology, the doctrine of the last things, has an important place in orthodox dogmatics. The end of man (a microcosm) is death, when the body is separated from the soul and disintegrates in the grave. At the end of time, on the “Last Day,” the resurrection of the dead will take place, followed by the final judgment, when each one shall be confronted again by the deeds of his life on earth. And just as man’s life ends in death, so also shall the entire present world (the macrocosm) go to meet its doom. This will be accomplished by fire, which shall destroy and consume everything (consummatio mundi). In the eternal existence, which shall follow the end of time, those who did evil will receive eternal death, and those who did good will receive eternal life. On the basis of these major concepts, developed on Biblical grounds, it was felt that the world order as well as the order of salvation would soon reach their final stages.
The Struggle Against Socinianism
The 16th century witnessed the upsurge of an antitrinitarian point of view which had its origins in Italy. In Transylvania and Poland, which were not reached by ecclesiastical persecution, organized congregations were established in which this point of view was upheld. In Poland a number of divided groups were united by Fausto Sozzini (in Latin, Socinus; d. 1604), who also became the foremost theologian of this movement. By the middle of the 17th century “Socinianism” was forbidden in Poland, and its organized existence came to an end soon thereafter. In the history of theology, however, this movement played a significant role: Socinianism, by its radical criticism of accepted dogma, prepared the way for the rationalistic theology of the Age of Enlightenment and also foreshadowed the modern concept of religion in many respects.
The rejection of the Socinian position played an important part in the orthodox Lutheran tradition. Based as it was in many ways on the heritage of late medieval nominalism and Renaissance humanism, Socinianism insisted that dogma or the content of Scripture—whose authority was accepted in a formal way—must be justified before the bar of sound human understanding. As a result the Socinians repudiated those doctrines which were thought to be opposed to reason. In their exposition of Scripture they established rational intelligibility and moral utility as the basic criteria.
Socinianism was, of course, antitrinitarian: the divinity of Christ and of the Holy Spirit was denied. Christ was looked upon as a mere man with a prophetic mission. The Holy Spirit was thought of as clothing more than a divine “power.” The Bible passages which said otherwise were radically reinterpreted. In opposition to these rationalistic tendencies, orthodox theologians vigorously asserted the Scriptural principle as the basis of their theology; the Socinians, as a matter of fact, considered reason to be the ultimate norm.
With respect to their anthropology the Socinians were Pelagian. Adam was not created to be immortal; the likeness of God in man, which was not lost in the Fall, merely consists of a certain dominion over creation. Original sin was denied, and man was said to have a free will with which to obey God. “The help of grace” was conceived of only as an expression for the threats and promises included in sermons. On all of these points, orthodox theology—as is evident from the previous sections—was implacably opposed to Socinianism.
It was the doctrine of the Atonement, however, which was probably the most controversial point involved in this dispute. Socinus and his followers attacked the orthodox idea of satisfaction from the ground up. They maintained that the righteousness of God does not demand atonement for sin. Righteousness is only something that characterizes God’s outward acts; it is not an “essential” quality, or one that is a part of His nature. God, of His free will and in “absolute goodness,” can forgive and bestow eternal life upon all who believe and strive to live in innocence. As a logical consequence of this the Socinians denied that Christ’s obedience has any substitutionary value and that His death provided satisfaction for man’s guilt. The death of Christ on the cross merely proved that Jesus was obedient, and the Resurrection confirmed His divine mission. The Bible passages which speak of atonement, redemption, etc., were freely reinterpreted. Christ’s work consisted only of this, that He showed man how to live a better life before God. In this we find “atonement.”
In refuting these ideas, the orthodox theologians set forth the following principles: There is an “essential” righteousness in God, according to which sinful man must be punished. But because He is also merciful, God desires to spare the human race. Thus it was that Christ came to bring merit and make satisfaction. The punishment which sin deserves has been transferred to Christ; as a result, God can receive sinners by grace without violating His righteousness. Hence we have this “wonderful combination of divine righteousness and mercy” (Gerhard, Loci, VII, 47b). Christ was set forth as the Mediator between God and man, who has freed us from the curse of the Law, from God’s wrath, and from eternal judgment. He is the Redeemer, the “Atonement for our sins.” Because of this, Christ is referred to as causa meritoria justificationis, the One who works our justification through His merit. His death was a satisfactio vicaria.
In this matter as well as on many other points—one could also mention the doctrine of the sacraments, for the Socinians also denied the regenerating effect of infant Baptism and the Real Presence of Christ in the Lord’s Supper—Socinianism appeared as a rationalistic critique of dogma. In somewhat different forms, and under more favorable conditions, this critique was frequently repeated in the new era which began with Pietism and the Enlightenment. Various characteristics of the modem Protestant interpretation of Christianity were already fully formed in Socinianism.
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