A Summary of McGrath’s Luther’s Theology of the Cross
In his book Luther's Theology of the Cross: Martin
Luther's Theological Breakthrough, Alister McGrath takes the reader
through the complex labyrinth of medieval thought out of which Luther
eventually broke free. My appreciation for Luther as a first-rate scholar
was significantly increased as McGrath (a first-rate scholar himself)
traced Luther's long theological journey by taking the reader through many
of Luther's own writings from 1509-1518. This tour of the documents helps
one see that Luther was not simply a visceral reactionary and that
Reformation thought was not a quick flash of illumination.
McGrath points out that Luther's theology of
the cross was introduced between the "mountains" of 1517 (95
Theses) and 1519 (Leipzig debate) at the disputation in Heidelberg (1518)
before his own Augustinian monastic order. Luther's concept of the
"crucified God, " was not only the foundation of his theology,
but the key to a proper understanding of God's nature. As Luther saw it,
the "hidden God" was revealed in the scene of dereliction upon
the cross, not by a display of overwhelming power or kingly glory .
Part I of the book provides the background of Luther
as a late medieval theologian during 1509-14. As McGrath puts it, there
was "considerable confusion on matters of doctrine" in the
medieval period, "particularly concerning justification." The
question, "what shall I do to be saved?," seemingly so easily
answered by Paul in Acts 16:30,31, became enigmatic in a quagmire of
conflicting traditions, theologies, and philosophical orientations.
Three major influences on Luther are traced by
McGrath: humanism, the philosophical nominalism of the via moderna, and
the theology of the Augustinian Order .
Seeing these influences emphasizes, rather
than detracts from his genius. There comes a point where Luther can no
longer be explained in terms of his origins and environment, and where he
began to pursue a course significantly different from the thought-world of
his contemporaries, as the cross of Christ embedded itself more and more
deeply into Luther's theological reflections. (26)
The contribution of humanism (not to be
confused with modern, secular humanism) was to expose Luther to the
ancient sources-- scripture and the writings of the early church in Greek.
Luther also, along with the humanists, rejected scholasticism—a tendency
in some university circles toward extreme theological abstraction. McGrath
notes that the influence of humanism is more a one of means than substance.
Luther was helped by the tools of humanism (primarily the Greek
New Testament), not so much its teaching. The humanist ideal of reform (
as per Erasmus) was not primarily doctrinal, but moral and administrative.
Luther was also influenced by nominalism, which
was a denial of universals (realism) in favor of a focus on particulars
which derive their qualities. Where nominalism pertains to our
discussion is the in the dialectic between the two powers of God, the absolute
(the initial set of possibilities open to God) and the ordained (the
subset of possibilities which God determined to use). The dialectic was
set up to assure that God acted reliably but not out of necessity .
Within the
framework of God’s absolute power, they [the theologians of the via
moderna] emphasized that God was at liberty to justify man by other
means than an infused habit of grace. Although the conditional or de
facto necessity of such habits was not called into question, it was
stressed that the implication of such habits in justification was the
result of the divine decision that they should be thus implicated,
rather than because of any natural causal relationship between such
habits and justification. (57)
In other
words, man did not merit justification, God freely chose to grant
it by giving value to the habit of grace. The habit had no inherent value
(like coins, the value is derived). McGrath says, "Luther did
not use the two powers concept to any significant extent, but he did
incorporate some its consequences. One such consequence was the notion of
a covenant (pactum or testamentum) between God and man, on the
basis of which justification takes place." (58) This is called covenantal
causality in contrast to ontological causality, which is tied
to things having inherent value (in this case man's works). In
covenantal causality, God gives man's work a value that is not merited.
This was how the idea of works- righteousness was promoted without
actually denying the doctrine of grace. So, we can see that even before
Luther's breakthrough, he was part of a tradition that taught
justification apart from human merit. Luther's breakthrough was not that
he moved from believing human works earned God's acceptance to
believing God grants salvation. The change was regarding "on
what basis does God grant salvation?"
While there was no monolithic teaching of the
Augustinian order, the influence of Luther's Augustinian order (and/or the
person of Staupitz, mentor in the monastery) was the move toward a more personal
concept of grace—the personal presence of the Holy Spirit within the
believer.
By the time of Luther, a theology of
justification had developed within the certain sections of the
Augustinian order which can only be regarded as a hybrid
species, incorporating much of the authentic theology of St. Augustine
(for instance, the emphasis upon the depravity of man, the priority of
grace and love, and the necessity of grace for morally good acts), while
simultaneously including the results of the application of logico-critical
methods, such as the dialectic of the two powers of God, associated with
via moderna...(67)
That theology of justification, while sounding
familiar to Protestant ears, still had to be broken free from.
Justification was still seen by Luther and his medieval contemporaries as requiring
something from man. No, it was not meritorious works, but a
“prepared condition” to receive grace. That condition, for Luther,
appears to be a recognition of one's need for grace, and an appeal to God,
in his mercy, to bestow it. Yet, with all that said, Luther's concept was
a humanly initiated state that God would then respond to. Faith
required humility, and humility was understood as a self-abasing state,
the condition of seeing oneself as detestable. If you think about this
very long, you realize that faith has taken on the role of a work--a rigorous
one at that. How could one know if he has become humble enough? He could
not.
McGrath
summarizes Luther at this point in his development:
In 1514 Luther held a doctrine of
justification which was still within a well established medieval
theological tradition. All that was required of man was that he humbled
himself before God, in order that he might receive the grace which God
would then bestow on him...the break with this tradition came about
through Luther's prolonged meditation upon a concept which he frequently
encountered during his exegesis of the Psalter--that of "the
righteousness of God." The
origins of the theology of the cross lie in Luther's initial difficulty
in seeing how the idea of a righteous God could conceivably be good news
for sinful man.(92)
Part II
charts Luther's breakthrough itself, the crucial step of which, according
to McGrath, was Luther's discovery of the "righteousness of
God." The medieval understanding of righteousness had been colored by
Roman (Latin) ideas of justice. Cicero's idea of justice was “giving to
every man as he is entitled.” Under this notion of justice, it would be
impossible for God to justify the ungodly ( as per Rom. 4:5). In
the thinking of the via moderna, the righteousness of God was His faithfulness
to the pactum or covenant. So, righteousness is a reward or
punishment. To be saved was to rewarded, not for meritorious works, but
for meeting the condition of the pactum in order to receive grace.
As we saw earlier, that condition was self-detesting humility. This is how
Luther had understood the "righteousness of faith."
The change that Luther eventually came to was that he
no longer believed that man was capable of the true humility required of
him to meet the condition of the pactum. It would require an act
of God to move man to repentance. Man would need the "alien
righteousness of God." It is "alien" because it is not
ours. We are sinners by nature. The righteousness of God is given (imputed)
to man as a gift and therefore is good news (Rom. 1:17)
In this sense then, God's righteousness is contrary
to reason, as reason was understood by Aristotle. The Aristotelian
idea of righteousness was the quality that came about from performing good
deeds. McGrath insists that Luther's critique of reason is not a
repudiation of rationality in general, but of projecting human ideas into
God. God's reveals himself to be surprisingly different from our
expectations.
The importance of Luther's breakthrough for all aspects of theology is
pointed to by McGrath:
Luther's insight into the true nature of
the righteousness of God represents far more than a mere terminological
clarification: latent within it is a new concept of God. Who is this God
who deals thus with man? Luther's answer to this question, as it
developed over the years 1513-19, can be summarized in more of his most
daring phrases: the God who deals with sinful man in this astonishing
way is none other than the 'crucified and hidden God'--the God of the theologica
crucis. (147)
The cross shatters all human ideas of strength and
wisdom, for God's power is revealed in weakness, his glory in shame, and
His wisdom in the "foolishness" of a crucified savior. No one
can rightly say that God is not involved in human suffering, because He so
clearly identified Himself with it.
Reading this book opened up to me the tremendous
subtly of the medieval theological situation. There was not a uniform and
simplistic works theology .This is a sober warning not to take our
theology for granted--to not stop teaching justification by faith in all
its depth just because we have "heard it all before."
I was also impressed that God did not bypass Luther's
mind, but worked through it. Nor did God bypass Scripture, but
spoke through the Scripture. Certainly God could have given Luther
or anyone else a direct vision about the righteousness of God. But He did
not. He led Luther and others to a thorough understanding of His word that
could be communicated objectively again and again. If Luther had a vision
and it was not duplicated for each person would it have had the staying
power of being able to see with the eyes the words of Scripture? I
seriously doubt it. If only today's reformers would stick with the word of
God and seek to open its contents for all to see.
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