The Meaning of Saving Faith: Luther’s Interpretation of Romans 3:28

By John D. Hannah

[John D. Hannah, Professor of Historical Theology, Dallas Theological Seminary]

While doing research in the archives of the John Hay Library at Brown University, Carolyn Lenz discovered a handwritten account of the last moments of Martin Luther. This was the third manuscript describing Luther’s last words and actions found in a 16th-century book. Though written by an unpolished scribe, the anonymous account was penned by someone deeply moved by the loss of the Reformer to record either the events he observed personally or heard reported on the day of Luther’s death. Having arisen from bed that day Luther told his friend Justus Jonas that he was experiencing great pain and prayed aloud saying, “O heavenly God, you beloved Father of Jesus Christ, you have surely revealed yourself to me.”[1]

That sentence could be used as a way to organize the history of the Protestant Reformation, a movement led by the voice and pen of Luther. Having been reared within medieval Catholicism, he struggled vainly to find religious peace. The disclosure of that peace to the mind and heart of the Reformer marked the beginning of a movement that swept northern Europe, disrupted the hegemony of the Roman Church and created a rich heritage for those to whom God has revealed the same ground of peace.

What was the content of the religious truth that God had so graciously revealed to Luther, the peasant-born, university-trained professor of Bible at Wittenberg University? This article seeks to set forth at least one answer, hopefully the most important one, to that inquiry. The impetus for this search is twofold: the crucial relevance of the answer for every generation, and the fact that this year marks the 500th anniversary of the birth of Luther (on November 11, 1483). Luther’s impact on the modern world must never be doubted. Perhaps Aland’s assertion is correct: “The summary judgment must be that the intellectual life of the modern world would never have come into existence without Martin Luther and the Reformation.”[2]

The Theses concerning Faith: Their Background

The answer, at least in part, to the inquiry as to what the Lord revealed to Luther, which resulted in religious if not ecclesiastical peace, was the truth of justification by faith. Though he had understood justification within his Catholic heritage, the discovery of sola fides (faith alone) brought him peace and religious confidence. Thus it seems appropriate to celebrate the birth of this great Reformer by analyzing his understanding of faith. To accomplish this end, Luther’s Theses concerning Faith and Law (1535) will be analyzed to contrast his mature understanding of faith with the theological explanation of medieval Catholic doctrine.

The Theses, of which only those concerning faith will be analyzed, were composed by Luther for the first doctoral examination and graduation to take place in the theological faculty since the imposition of new statutes governing the granting of degrees at Wittenberg University. Two candidates, Hieronymus Weller, who later became a theological professor at Freiberg, and Nikolaus Medler, afterwards superintendent at Brunswick, were expected to defend the theses against criticism by such examiners as Melanchthon, Myconius, Amsdorf, and Bugenhagen.[3] Luther carefully planned for the occasion and the graduation of his two friends.

Of the 95 theses, 71 were statements on the meaning of justification by faith. These were written by Luther to elucidate the meaning of Romans 3:28, which constitutes its central theme. “We maintain that a man is justified by faith apart from the works of the Law.”

The Theses concerning Faith: Their Exposition

Luther’s initial statement is declarative, that what the Apostle Paul delineated as faith in Romans 3:28 is true faith. Thus true faith is the faith defined in the Bible. By what follows in theses 2–9 Luther seems to be contrasting faith as defined by Paul with faith as defined by Roman theology.

The Incorrect Interpretation of Faith (Theses 2-9)

Luther asserts in these eight theses that justifying faith is not a bare intellectualism; that is, it is not merely an assent to the historic facts of the gospel story, a mere belief in its historicity. Even the sophists, the scholastics, or medieval theologians, who “understood more of these matters,” rejected such a notion (thesis 3). In defining this term, which even the sophists rejected, von Loewenich states: “Historical faith keeps its distance from its object, and does so in a double respect: It does not leap over the historical chasm that is between us and the time of Jesus, and it views these events purely as a spectator.”[4]

Luther stated that the sophists were correct when they asserted that historic faith does not justify and yet they were ignorant of the true meaning of the doctrine. To understand Luther on this point, it is important to describe the prevalent view on justification within the Romanism of his day. First, the idea of an active moral agency in mankind was widely held in Romanism. The point of contact between man and God was within the conscience.

According to this doctrine there is present in man a capacity for the divine. Man is in principle capable of recognizing and desiring the good. He needs only produce the acts corresponding to the aptitude. Man is indeed fallen, but he has retained the ethical consciousness, the inclination toward the good. The corruption of inherited sin is thus considerably weakened; it is not located in man’s center but on the periphery.[5]

Second, and as a logical corollary, justification was defined by Romanism as a power that effects renewal; that is, it effects by an infusion of grace, an ability or capacity to obey willingly what the Law requires. Thus works by an individual are a requisite for salvation, but his obedience is a result of infused ability. Salvation is of grace, but not of grace alone; it is a gradual cleansing, not an instantaneous cleansing; it is infused, not imputed; it is an inward righteousness, not alien. Green writes that justification is based on “a person’s inward state of sanctification and that the declaration of justification was proleptic, anticipating a state of perfection which God would achieve within the believer following a life-long process of making him just.”[6]

In late medieval scholasticism the grace of God was viewed as a medicinal, healing substance that progressively produced obedience and ultimately justification. This grace was imparted at baptism, developed through instruction and evidenced by three virtues: faith, hope, and charity. Hope was defined as including trust and thus was defined away as a component of faith so that the latter (faith) was defined as the intellectual apprehension of the facts of Christ’s life and death. Since hope looked to the future, and trust accompanied it, faith was merely mental and the stress was on works or charity.[7] Therefore, Luther argued, justifying faith requires the accompaniment of love according to the sophists, yet alone it does not justify (theses 4–5). The scholastics were correct that historic faith alone (redefined without the addition or retrieval of trust from the virtue of hope) does not save.

The second part of Luther’s argument in this section is that Paul did not understand faith as either merely historic or infused (theses 6–8). To make such assertions he would have neither understood Christ, nor would Christ have been of any value to him; Paul’s personal perception and evaluation of Christ proves the sophists wrong.

The Correct Interpretation of Faith (Theses 10-27)

In these theses Luther defined true faith (theses 10–16) and compared true faith with “historic” faith (theses 17–27). True faith is completely separate from sophist confusion, it is “another kind of faith” (theses 10–11). This faith embraces the historicity of the death and resurrection of Christ (thesis 13), but it has an affective, personal facet. It “understands the love of God the Father who wants to redeem and save you through Christ, delivered up for your sins” (thesis 14). Althaus summarizes these crucial points as follows:

This justifying faith is thus more than merely being convinced that the facts of salvation are true without being personally related to them. It includes this, but what has happened must be appropriated as having happened “for me” and “for mysake.” This “for me” is the decisive and essential factor in justifying faith which definitely distinguishes it from everything else which we otherwise call faith and especially from a mere “historical faith.”[8]

Faith to Luther, as it was to Paul, consists of at least two parts: historical or factual faith, and trust or personal reliance (thesis 15). In the latter sense it is a gift from God given by the Holy Spirit. Faith, then, is an act of trusting in the mercy God offered to man in Christ.

To make the point more explicit, Luther offered several points of comparison between the two types of faith (theses 17–27). First, historic faith (elsewhere designated as acquired or infused faith) is a mental observation, while true faith is a personalization of the meaning of certain religious facts (theses 17–18). Von Loewenich writes:

Special faith, however, receives these accounts for their effect, that is, it is not neutral over against them, but feels itself participating in them to the highest degree. This faith knows “this concerns me.” For this event, to which faith is directed, is not historical in the sense of an event that is closed and lies behind us, but one that is new every day through faith. Hence it may be said that in distinction from historical faith, special faith contains an element of experience.[9]

Second, the distinguishing character of historic and true faith is seen in its approach to Christ’s death; to some it is an object of curiosity and to others it is the foundation of life (thesis 20). Third, historic faith is likened to a lazy, idle man (thesis 21) while true faith generates personal enthusiasm and joy (thesis 22). It is that kind of faith that Paul testified of in Galatians 2:20 and that alone receives the mercy of God (“without law and works”) (theses 23–25). Fourth, Luther concluded by arguing the opposition of the two types of faith and the opposing conclusions from each of them. People are either justifted by the Law or they are justiffed through Christ (theses 26–27). True faith, according to Paul and Luther, “looks only and solely to Christ for us, toward his righteousness ‘outside of us,’ yet it thereby becomes the presence and the power of Christ in us.”[10]

When did Luther come to an understanding of “special faith,” as von Loewenich calls it? How did Luther understand faith when he nailed the 95 theses to the Castle Church in Wittenberg on October 31, 1517? Or how did he define justifying faith at the Heidelberg Disputation in 1518? Recent scholarship has challenged the assertion that Luther was converted in the first half of the second decade of the 16th century and has pushed the date of Luther’s discovery of justification by faith alone after the Heidelberg Disputation and possibly to the spring of 1519. Saarnivaara understood that Luther experienced two “conversions”: the first one in 1512 when he came to proscribe a progressive or renewalist understanding of justification by works through faith, and a true conversion in late 1518, when he received an immediate bestowal of righteousness by imputation.[11] “The year 1517 belongs to that period of Luther’s life when he still understood justification as a renewal and a gradual cleansing from sin and not as the imputation of the righteousness of Christ.”[12] Aland similarly suggests that Luther came to a Pauline understanding of the gospel in the spring of 1518, but in 1517 he was “a devout Catholic and a passionate defender of the church and the papacy.”[13]

Commenting on Luther’s commentary on Galatians, written in 1519, von Loewenich notes a dramatic theological difference: “While faith was identical with hope earlier, he now sees its essence in faithfulness to God’s promise. We may say that the eschatological aspect has receded over against the soteriological. The Word has taken the place of the invisible.”[14] In a similar way, Green argues convincingly that before 1519 Luther maintained that works of faith were the ground of justification as mediated through the penitential system, that works of faith provided the righteousness which God uses to declare the believer just.[15] Green’s thesis, as well as that of Aland, is that the Indulgence Controversy of 1517 was the catalyst for, not the result of, Luther’s reformational understanding of justification. The evidence suggests that Luther came to the knowledge of passive regeneration and alien righteousness after the Heidelberg Disputation of 1518. This aligns with his own testimony late in life, explains the burst of literary output after 1518, and renders understandable his hesitancy to have his earlier works published.[16] One reviewer of Green’s thesis notes, “To go back to the teachings of the young Luther is really to return to Roman Catholic theology, to confuse the real Reformation breakthrough with medieval theology and to make Luther’s great discovery no discovery at all.”[17] All this is simply to say that prior to about 1519 Luther equated righteousness with a medieval definition of the primary virtues which caused him to fail to equate faith with trust (fiducia).

The Relationship of Faith and Works (Theses 28-48)

By 1519 Luther came to see clearly that salvation faith was not a work, but a gift of the Holy Spirit in the same way he understood the origin and nature of righteousness. Yet the clear demarcation of faith and works in justification was particularly troublesome in light of James 2:24, “a man is justified by works.”

Luther, as well as most of the Reformers, did not fault the Roman Church for requiring works by those who would be saved but in attributing to works the ability to satisfy God for sin. Works were the result of justification (caused not by the believer but by God in every object of His redemptive mercies), never the cause of justification (it is by faith alone). The relationship of faith and works required constant clarification in that day and this.

The faith that works: its declaration (theses 28–33). Luther began these theses by arguing that deliverance from sin is predicated on the penal substitution of Christ; it is absolutely separated from one’s character (i.e., the virtues of medieval theology) or works (thesis 28). The root of justification is the mercies of God as presented by or freely offered in Christ. Faith does not justify, if it is understood as a perceptive or receptive function; the faith that justifies is faith in Christ who makes Himself present in the believer through faith. Althaus writes:

Thus the righteousness granted to the sinner is not his own produced by himself but an “alien” righteousness belonging to Jesus Christ. Righteousness is not a quality of man, a philosophy and scholastic theology determined by it thought it to be; rather it consists in being righteous only through God’s gracious imputation of Christ’s righteousness, that is, it is a righteousness “outside of man.”[18]

Faith is the ground of works. And works were just as important to Luther as to the Roman system that he strenuously opposed, though for a diametrically opposite reason. He is explicit that works are the necessary result of the mercies of God bestowed in His gracious, immediate justification (thesis 29). If good works do not follow faith, it is a clear evidence that the kind of faith exercised was merely historic (i.e., self-exertion) not the faith wherein a merciful God is presented in the death of the gratuitous Redeemer (theses 30–33). If works are the result of a gracious, progressive infusing of virtuous abilities, it is the faith of the demons and the condemned. On the other hand, if one has a faith that does not occasion moral, external reclamation and amendment, it is not the kind of faith that apprehends Christ and is vain, worthless, and empty. In the Formula of Concord, the classic statement on Lutheran orthodoxy, the following notion is condemned, thus establishing the proposition that true faith necessitates a change of lifestyle: “That faith is…confidence in the obedience of Christ as can abide and have a being even in that man who is void of true repentance, and in whom it is not followed by charity, but who contrary to conscience perseveres in sins.”[19]

The Formula of Concord positively asserts:

That good works must certainly and without all doubt follow a true faith (provided only it to be not a dead but a living faith), as fruits of a good tree…. the liberated spirit of man does good works, not as a slave, from fear of punishment, but from love of righteousness, such as is the obedience which children are want to render…. We believe, moreover, teach, and confess that faith and salvation are preserved or retained in us not by works and by faith (by which merely, salvation is guarded), and that good works are a testimony that the Holy Spirit is present and dwells in us.[20]

The faith that works: its pattern (theses 34–48). In this section of theses Luther seems to be illustrating the relationship of faith to works previously stated (theses 28–33). Two sections are evident: the pattern established (theses 34–39) and the pattern applied (theses 40–48). The presupposition of the former is simply that “good works must follow faith, yes, not only must, but follow voluntarily” (thesis 34). The schema of the Christian life is that works follow salvation and that these works are necessitated by the “Christ in us” and simultaneously arise from a personal, thankful spirit of philanthropic voluntarism. This “resultantness” of works is illustrated with three images. First, just as a tree is not good because it produces good fruit but vice versa, so works follow nature (i.e., innate constitution) and reveal its quality. Good works are not the cause of good character, but are simply its evidence (theses 34–36). Second, good philosophy flows from valid usages of reason, not from the philosophic statement itself. In other words works are the consequence, never the cause. Therefore just as reason precedes statement, so faith precedes works. Having sustained the proper order, Luther then spoke of their necessity (theses 37–38). Third, as the architect’s design is not derived from the completion of the project but precedes the project itself, so faith precedes works and both are important (thesis 39).

If the pattern of a working faith is established by illustration (theses 34–39), it is also applied in Christ (theses 40–48). Luther argued that Christ is the Lord of the Scriptures (i.e., they speak of Him and never stand against Him) and hence they must be read through Christ (theses 40–41). The commands of Scripture (i.e., the Law) are not indicators of raw human ability but must be interpreted through the grid of the enabling Christ. The imperatives, far from being an indication of human strength, are indications of God’s will actualized by the enabling Savior. Thus works, which are impossible before salvation, are the result of Christ and, on that basis, are pleasing to God. Both saving faith and sanctifying faith (which are actually identical) are efficacious because of Christ in, through, and with the human exertion. As Althaus says, “Faith therefore does not justify by itself but only because Christ makes Himself present in us through it.”[21] The point Luther is making is that obedience follows and is predicated on relationship (and that Law is not the predicate of relationship). Theses 42–46 provide five illustrations of this interpretive principle. The point is simply that commands (e.g., “keep the commandment” or “do this and you will live”) should be read as “through Christ” or “through faith in Christ.” It is for this reason, Luther wrote, that “by faith” is added to the deeds of the saints in Hebrews 11 (thesis 46). He concluded this section with a restatement of his view that in Christ “we live and are saved” (theses 47–48).

The Relationship of Christ and the Law (Theses 49-61)

In this section Luther argued that Christ is not in opposition to the Law. If Christ, as interpreted by Luther, stands opposed to the Law in the minds of some, it would be best to put away that Law from Christian experience. However, this would not lead to antinomianism because Christ established a new law. Lawkeeping is important, not as the Roman Church interpreted it, and Luther is careful to maintain it. Luther developed this point in three distinct subsections.

Christ and the law: the opposition in salvation (49–51). It is important to note that Luther was not arguing that the Law and Christ represent opposites (cf. theses 40–48). He was citing a hypothetical case (thesis 51, “if”) to argue that if Moses were abolished, that fact would not negate the necessity of obedience (i.e., works). The hypothetical case was stated (thesis 49), the opposites were compared (thesis 50, if they are opposites, Christ is superior), and the verdict was rendered (thesis 51). If one has Christ and abolishes Moses, that one is still under Law.

Christ, the basis of new law (theses 52–57). Luther was not asserting that Law and grace conflict; he was simply stating that without the Law of Moses there would still be law incumbent on the believer. This is so, not because law (i.e., works) predicates relationship any more than good fruit causes the tree to be good or a furnished building causes an architect to draft a blueprint, but because a relationship with Christ innately implies the obedience of Christ. Hence Christ and Law are not opposites but co-terminus (thesis 52). If the Mosaic Law were set aside for the Christian, there are still the “decalogues” of Paul, Peter, and Christ in the gospel (thesis 53); these are, indeed, superior to Moses because of the superiority of Christ (thesis 54). Not only would the New Testament “decalogue” be superior to the Mosaic in this hypothetical case, but also those who had no decalogue (the Gentiles, Rom 2:14) knew the Law through God’s indelible engraving on their consciences (thesis 55). Thus obedience is established without the Mosaic Law. Luther was not advocating the abrogation nor the functional necessity of the Law; he was simply arguing for a lawful use of the Law. His conclusion is simply that whether the “decalogue” of Moses, Paul, or Peter, it is the voice of the one Christ witnessing through both testaments to the importance of works (not as a ground of redemption, but as the result or aftermath of the miracle of redemption freely embraced by a thankful soul).

Christ and the Law: its necessity (theses 58–61). Luther discussed the purpose of law in the life of the believer under two headings. First, law is necessary because of the inconstancy of human nature (thesis 58). The establishment of written standards are important because believers are prone to such depths of disobedience that the church would be torn to pieces by internal strife. Luther understood the Christian believer to be simul iust et peccator (“at the same time justified and sinner”).

The saints are intrinsically always sinners, and therefore they are extrinsically always justified. To God the saints are at the same time righteous and unrighteous; they are knowingly righteous and knowingly unrighteous, sinners in fact but righteous in hope. Sin remains and simultaneously does not remain in Christians. And God takes the ungodly at the same time for unrighteous and righteous. He both does and does not take their sin away.[22]

In accord with the fact captured by the hymn writer in the phrase, “prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love” (i.e., because of the destructive power of pride, greed, and selfishness), Luther argued that the Law was given as a gracious gift to keep Christians from destroying themselves and the church.

Second, the Law was given as “a sure decree of God” because teachers of the Scriptures are not infallible as were the apostles (thesis 59). As the teachers of the Bible are simul iust et peccator, they are not sure guides, or at least they must not be uncritically received at all times. The sure, unsullied Word of God is the Bible, the Law of God. Says Luther, “It is not they (the apostles), but we (teachers after them), since we are without such a decree (i.e., a superintending of God over them in writing the Scriptures), who are able to err and waver in faith” (thesis 60).

The Conclusion (Theses 62-71)

In this final section, Luther seems to gather up some of the salient points of the previous theses. First, the ground of rightness with God is through the mercy and righteousness of God, not because of man’s efforts (thesis 62). Luther was here differentiating his view from that of the medieval Romish theology he espoused before 1519. Salvation is not the result of the gracious infusion of enablement resulting in the virtues of faith, hope, and charity, but simply and totally of grace. Forstman captures a glimpse of Luther’s point: “Luther’s discovery of ‘the merciful God’ was the conviction that it is the character of God’s justice to give what he requires without regard to a man’s worth.”[23] It is not a process of gradual renovation, a process of becoming righteous, but the bestowal of righteousness by imputation.

Second, if a person has historic faith (a mere knowledge of the Gospel narratives) though he be holy, wise, and just, he remains under the wrath of God, being no higher in faith than demons (thesis 63). The kind of faith that saves is the type that links itself to trust. True faith combines at once notitia and fudicia (facts and commitment). Salvation is not, as it were, a morality play; rather it is an imputation that results in righteous living.

Third, the necessity of rebirth, a work of God (thesis 65). makes justification through works (even works resulting from a gracious infusion) impossible (thesis 67). Roth makes the same point by asking a question: “Is it true that Luther would have us understand alien righteousness as a creative transformation of the heart by the Holy Spirit?”[24]

Fourth, to say that righteousness is by works, even those works awakened by infused grace, is blasphemous (thesis 68) for two reasons: it is a perversion, a misuse of Scripture (it makes the Scriptures assert what they deny), and it is a foolish statement (theses 70–71). It is as intelligent to say that man is saved by works as it is to believe that man is good.

The Theses concerning Faith: Their Contemporary Relevance

Though the ink has dried on the page that recorded Luther’s thoughts over 400 years ago, the Theses have significance in the church today. The issues that he attempted to elucidate, such as the meaning of faith and the place of works, have reoccurred as tension points in the study and preaching of the Scriptures. At times teachers and scholars have erred either by reducing faith to the sterile state of intellectual perception or by defining faith as a mere mystical, existential experience. At times the church has drifted toward legalism by overemphasizing the place of works. At other times it has drifted toward antinomianism by allowing the doctrine of works to suffer through neglect. Luther’s theses are relevant for the very fact that he struggled to understand such issues and proclaim his understanding of the mind of God on them as he gained insight from the Scriptures. These are not idle issues! It behooves the servants of the Savior, the shepherds of the flock, to grapple with the Scriptures on these issues because they lie at the heart of the gospel itself.

Writing to Lazarus Spengler on July 8, 1530, Luther described the symbols of his own personal coat of arms (i.e., “my seal as a symbol of my theology”). In the signet he described various objects: a natural colored heart, a black cross, a white rose, a blue field, and a gold ring encircling the periphery. He then sought to interpret the symbols to Spengler. The heart is centered in the image with the black cross in its midst. The accursed cross, the cursed Savior, makes clean the heart (“I myself would be reminded that faith in the Crucified saves us”). He then adds, “For if one believes from the heart he will be justified.” Luther’s theses indicate that he believed that the faith which is the agency of justification is not merely intellectual, but personal. Luther saw that an accurate, biblically warranted deflnition of faith is imperative if the heart is ever to be cleansed by the Redeemer. The white rose which encloses the cleansed heart symbolizes joy, peace, and comfort; these character traits are the result of the imputation of God’s righteousness. The blue field is interpreted to mean that the peace, joy, and comfort of salvation lasts throughout time, and the unending gold ring indicates the eternality of God’s mercies in the believer’s experience.[25]

To ask if Luther’s theses are relevant is really to ponder the importance of the gospel. As Luther struggled to preach and teach the truths of the gospel in the 16th century, may believers today, his heirs, be encouraged to make the gospel as plain and unsullied in the 20th century!

Notes

1. Carolyn R. S. Lenz, “A Recently Discovered Manuscript Account of Luther’s Last Prayer,” Archive for Reformation History 66 (January 1975): 82.
2. Kurt Aland, Four Reformers, trans. James L. Schaaf (Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1979), p. 53.
3. Helmut T. Lehman. gen. ed., Luther’s Works, 55 vols. (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1972), vol. 34: Career of the Reformer, ed. and trans. by Lewis Spitz, pp. 107-8.
4. Walter von Loewenich. Luther’s Theology of the Cross, trans. Herbert J. A. Bouman (Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1976). pp. 101-2.
5. Ibid., p. 53.
6. Lowell C. Green, “Faith, Righteousness, and Justification: New Light on Their Development under Luther and Melanchton,” Sixteenth Century Journal 4 (April 1972): 73.
7. For a detailed discussion consult Herko Augustinus Oberman, The Harvest of Medieval Theology (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1967), pp. 68-84.
8. Paul Althaus, The Theology of Martin Luther, trans. Robert C. Schultz (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966). p. 230.
9. Von Loewenich, Luther’s Theology, p. 102.
10. Althaus, Theology, p. 234.
11. Uuras Saarnivaara, Luther Discovers the Gospel (St.Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1951), pp. 121-22.
12. Ibid., 89.
13. Aland, Four Reformers, p. 27.
14. Von Loewenich, Luther’s Theology, p. 85.
15. Lowell C. Green, How Melanchthon Helped Luther Discover the Gospel (Fallbrook, CA: Verdict Publishers, 1980), pp. 77-78, 99.
16. Aland, Four Reformers, pp. 27,53. Documentation of the so-called “young Luther view” (i.e., his conversion before the 95 theses) can be found in the following significant studies: Heinrich Boehmer, Martin Luther: Road to Reformation, trans. John W. Doberstein and Theodore G. Tappert (New York: Meridan Books, 1960), pp. 87-117; Roland H. Bainton, Here I Stand: A Life of Martin Luther (New York: Abingdon-Cokesbury Press, 1950), pp. 60-67; and E. Gordon Rupp, Luther’s Progress to the Diet of Worms (London: SCM Press, 195 1). p. 39.
17. RDB, “How Melanchthon Helped Luther Discover the Gospel: A Book Review” Verdict 3 (May 1980): 5.
18. Althaus, Theology, pp. 227-28.
19. Philip Schaff, ed., The Creeds of Christendom, 3 vols. (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1877; reprint, Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1966), vol. 3: The Evangelical Protestant Creeds, pp. 119-20.
20. Ibid., pp. 122-25 (Art. I, vii, x).
21. Althaus, Theology, p. 232.
22. John R. Loescher, Wrestling with Luther: An Introduction to the Study of His Thought (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1976). p. 76.
23. H. Jackson Forstman, “A Beggar’s Faith,” Interpretation 30 (July l976): 265.
24. Terrance Roth, “The Doctrine of Alien Righteousness in the Writings of Luther,” Verdict 3 (May 1980): 10.
25. Luther’s Works, vol. 49: Letters, pp. 356-69.