_Concerning Christian Liberty_.
by Martin Luther, 1483-1546
English Text
Translated by R. S. Grignon
Published in:
_The Prince_ by Niccolo Machiavelli;
_Utopia_ by Sir Thomas More;
_Ninety-Five Theses_
_Address to the German Nobility_
_Concerning Christian Liberty_
by Martin Luther,
with introductions and notes.
The Five-Foot Shelf of Books,
"The Harvard Classics" vol. 36.
(New York: P. F. Collier & Son, 1910), pp. 353-97
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CONCERNING CHRISTIAN LIBERTY
LETTER OF MARTIN LUTHER TO POPE LEO X
Among those monstrous evils of this age with which I have now for
three years been waging war, I am sometimes compelled to look to
you and to call you to mind, most blessed father Leo. In truth,
since you alone are everywhere considered as being the cause of
my engaging in war, I cannot at any time fail to remember you;
and although I have been compelled by the causeless raging of
your impious flatterers against me to appeal from your seat to a
future council--fearless of the futile decrees of your
predecessors Pius and Julius, who in their foolish tyranny
prohibited such an action--yet I have never been so alienated in
feeling from your Blessedness as not to have sought with all my
might, in diligent prayer and crying to God, all the best gifts
for you and for your see. But those who have hitherto endeavoured
to terrify me with the majesty of your name and authority, I have
begun quite to despise and triumph over. One thing I see
remaining which I cannot despise, and this has been the reason of
my writing anew to your Blessedness: namely, that I find that
blame is cast on me, and that it is imputed to me as a great
offence, that in my rashness I am judged to have spared not even
your person.
Now, to confess the truth openly, I am conscious that, whenever I
have had to mention your person, I have said nothing of you but
what was honourable and good. If I had done otherwise, I could by
no means have approved my own conduct, but should have supported
with all my power the judgment of those men concerning me, nor
would anything have pleased me better, than to recant such
rashness and impiety. I have called you Daniel in Babylon; and
every reader thoroughly knows with what distinguished zeal I
defended your conspicuous innocence against Silvester, who tried
to stain it. Indeed, the published opinion of so many great men
and the repute of your blameless life are too widely famed and
too much reverenced throughout the world to be assailable by any
man, of however great name, or by any arts. I am not so foolish
as to attack one whom everybody praises; nay, it has been and
always will be my desire not to attack even those whom public
repute disgraces. I am not delighted at the faults of any man,
since I am very conscious myself of the great beam in my own eye,
nor can I be the first to cast a stone at the adulteress.
I have indeed inveighed sharply against impious doctrines, and I
have not been slack to censure my adversaries on account, not of
their bad morals, but of their impiety. And for this I am so far
from being sorry that I have brought my mind to despise the
judgments of men and to persevere in this vehement zeal,
according to the example of Christ, who, in His zeal, calls His
adversaries a generation of vipers, blind, hypocrites, and
children of the devil. Paul, too, charges the sorcerer with being
a child of the devil, full of all subtlety and all malice; and
defames certain persons as evil workers, dogs, and deceivers. In
the opinion of those delicate-eared persons, nothing could be
more bitter or intemperate than Paul's language. What can be more
bitter than the words of the prophets? The ears of our generation
have been made so delicate by the senseless multitude of
flatterers that, as soon as we perceive that anything of ours is
not approved of, we cry out that we are being bitterly assailed;
and when we can repel the truth by no other pretence, we escape
by attributing bitterness, impatience, intemperance, to our
adversaries. What would be the use of salt if it were not
pungent, or of the edge of the sword if it did not slay? Accursed
is the man who does the work of the Lord deceitfully.
Wherefore, most excellent Leo, I beseech you to accept my
vindication, made in this letter, and to persuade yourself that I
have never thought any evil concerning your person; further, that
I am one who desires that eternal blessing may fall to your lot,
and that I have no dispute with any man concerning morals, but
only concerning the word of truth. In all other things I will
yield to any one, but I neither can nor will forsake and deny the
word. He who thinks otherwise of me, or has taken in my words in
another sense, does not think rightly, and has not taken in the
truth.
Your see, however, which is called the Court of Rome, and which
neither you nor any man can deny to be more corrupt than any
Babylon or Sodom, and quite, as I believe, of a lost, desperate,
and hopeless impiety, this I have verily abominated, and have
felt indignant that the people of Christ should be cheated under
your name and the pretext of the Church of Rome; and so I have
resisted, and will resist, as long as the spirit of faith shall
live in me. Not that I am striving after impossibilities, or
hoping that by my labours alone, against the furious opposition
of so many flatterers, any good can be done in that most
disordered Babylon; but that I feel myself a debtor to my
brethren, and am bound to take thought for them, that fewer of
them may be ruined, or that their ruin may be less complete, by
the plagues of Rome. For many years now, nothing else has
overflowed from Rome into the world--as you are not
ignorant--than the laying waste of goods, of bodies, and of
souls, and the worst examples of all the worst things. These
things are clearer than the light to all men; and the Church of
Rome, formerly the most holy of all Churches, has become the most
lawless den of thieves, the most shameless of all brothels, the
very kingdom of sin, death, and hell; so that not even
antichrist, if he were to come, could devise any addition to its
wickedness.
Meanwhile you, Leo, are sitting like a lamb in the midst of
wolves, like Daniel in the midst of lions, and, with Ezekiel, you
dwell among scorpions. What opposition can you alone make to
these monstrous evils? Take to yourself three or four of the most
learned and best of the cardinals. What are these among so many?
You would all perish by poison before you could undertake to
decide on a remedy. It is all over with the Court of Rome; the
wrath of God has come upon her to the uttermost. She hates
councils; she dreads to be reformed; she cannot restrain the
madness of her impiety; she fills up the sentence passed on her
mother, of whom it is said, "We would have healed Babylon, but
she is not healed; let us forsake her." It had been your duty and
that of your cardinals to apply a remedy to these evils, but this
gout laughs at the physician's hand, and the chariot does not
obey the reins. Under the influence of these feelings, I have
always grieved that you, most excellent Leo, who were worthy of a
better age, have been made pontiff in this. For the Roman Court
is not worthy of you and those like you, but of Satan himself,
who in truth is more the ruler in that Babylon than you are.
Oh, would that, having laid aside that glory which your most
abandoned enemies declare to be yours, you were living rather in
the office of a private priest or on your paternal inheritance!
In that glory none are worthy to glory, except the race of
Iscariot, the children of perdition. For what happens in your
court, Leo, except that, the more wicked and execrable any man
is, the more prosperously he can use your name and authority for
the ruin of the property and souls of men, for the multiplication
of crimes, for the oppression of faith and truth and of the whole
Church of God? Oh, Leo! in reality most unfortunate, and sitting
on a most perilous throne, I tell you the truth, because I wish
you well; for if Bernard felt compassion for his Anastasius at a
time when the Roman see, though even then most corrupt, was as
yet ruling with better hope than now, why should not we lament,
to whom so much further corruption and ruin has been added in
three hundred years?
Is it not true that there is nothing under the vast heavens more
corrupt, more pestilential, more hateful, than the Court of Rome?
She incomparably surpasses the impiety of the Turks, so that in
very truth she, who was formerly the gate of heaven, is now a
sort of open mouth of hell, and such a mouth as, under the urgent
wrath of God, cannot be blocked up; one course alone being left
to us wretched men: to call back and save some few, if we can,
from that Roman gulf.
Behold, Leo, my father, with what purpose and on what principle
it is that I have stormed against that seat of pestilence. I am
so far from having felt any rage against your person that I even
hoped to gain favour with you and to aid you in your welfare by
striking actively and vigorously at that your prison, nay, your
hell. For whatever the efforts of all minds can contrive against
the confusion of that impious Court will be advantageous to you
and to your welfare, and to many others with you. Those who do
harm to her are doing your office; those who in every way abhor
her are glorifying Christ; in short, those are Christians who are
not Romans.
But, to say yet more, even this never entered my heart: to
inveigh against the Court of Rome or to dispute at all about her.
For, seeing all remedies for her health to be desperate, I looked
on her with contempt, and, giving her a bill of divorcement, said
to her, "He that is unjust, let him be unjust still; and he that
is filthy, let him be filthy still," giving myself up to the
peaceful and quiet study of sacred literature, that by this I
might be of use to the brethren living about me.
While I was making some advance in these studies, Satan opened
his eyes and goaded on his servant John Eccius, that notorious
adversary of Christ, by the unchecked lust for fame, to drag me
unexpectedly into the arena, trying to catch me in one little
word concerning the primacy of the Church of Rome, which had
fallen from me in passing. That boastful Thraso, foaming and
gnashing his teeth, proclaimed that he would dare all things for
the glory of God and for the honour of the holy apostolic seat;
and, being puffed up respecting your power, which he was about to
misuse, he looked forward with all certainty to victory; seeking
to promote, not so much the primacy of Peter, as his own
pre-eminence among the theologians of this age; for he thought it
would contribute in no slight degree to this, if he were to lead
Luther in triumph. The result having proved unfortunate for the
sophist, an incredible rage torments him; for he feels that
whatever discredit to Rome has arisen through me has been caused
by the fault of himself alone.
Suffer me, I pray you, most excellent Leo, both to plead my own
cause, and to accuse your true enemies. I believe it is known to
you in what way Cardinal Cajetan, your imprudent and unfortunate,
nay unfaithful, legate, acted towards me. When, on account of my
reverence for your name, I had placed myself and all that was
mine in his hands, he did not so act as to establish peace, which
he could easily have established by one little word, since I at
that time promised to be silent and to make an end of my case, if
he would command my adversaries to do the same. But that man of
pride, not content with this agreement, began to justify my
adversaries, to give them free licence, and to order me to
recant, a thing which was certainly not in his commission. Thus
indeed, when the case was in the best position, it came through
his vexatious tyranny into a much worse one. Therefore whatever
has followed upon this is the fault not of Luther, but entirely
of Cajetan, since he did not suffer me to be silent and remain
quiet, which at that time I was entreating for with all my might.
What more was it my duty to do?
Next came Charles Miltitz, also a nuncio from your Blessedness.
He, though he went up and down with much and varied exertion, and
omitted nothing which could tend to restore the position of the
cause thrown into confusion by the rashness and pride of Cajetan,
had difficulty, even with the help of that very illustrious
prince the Elector Frederick, in at last bringing about more than
one familiar conference with me. In these I again yielded to your
great name, and was prepared to keep silence, and to accept as my
judge either the Archbishop of Treves, or the Bishop of Naumburg;
and thus it was done and concluded. While this was being done
with good hope of success, lo! that other and greater enemy of
yours, Eccius, rushed in with his Leipsic disputation, which he
had undertaken against Carlstadt, and, having taken up a new
question concerning the primacy of the Pope, turned his arms
unexpectedly against me, and completely overthrew the plan for
peace. Meanwhile Charles Miltitz was waiting, disputations were
held, judges were being chosen, but no decision was arrived at.
And no wonder! for by the falsehoods, pretences, and arts of
Eccius the whole business was brought into such thorough
disorder, confusion, and festering soreness, that, whichever way
the sentence might lean, a greater conflagration was sure to
arise; for he was seeking, not after truth, but after his own
credit. In this case too I omitted nothing which it was right
that I should do.
I confess that on this occasion no small part of the corruptions
of Rome came to light; but, if there was any offence in this, it
was the fault of Eccius, who, in taking on him a burden beyond
his strength, and in furiously aiming at credit for himself,
unveiled to the whole world the disgrace of Rome.
Here is that enemy of yours, Leo, or rather of your Court; by his
example alone we may learn that an enemy is not more baneful than
a flatterer. For what did he bring about by his flattery, except
evils which no king could have brought about? At this day the
name of the Court of Rome stinks in the nostrils of the world,
the papal authority is growing weak, and its notorious ignorance
is evil spoken of. We should hear none of these things, if Eccius
had not disturbed the plans of Miltitz and myself for peace. He
feels this clearly enough himself in the indignation he shows,
too late and in vain, against the publication of my books. He
ought to have reflected on this at the time when he was all mad
for renown, and was seeking in your cause nothing but his own
objects, and that with the greatest peril to you. The foolish man
hoped that, from fear of your name, I should yield and keep
silence; for I do not think he presumed on his talents and
learning. Now, when he sees that I am very confident and speak
aloud, he repents too late of his rashness, and sees--if indeed
he does see it--that there is One in heaven who resists the
proud, and humbles the presumptuous.
Since then we were bringing about by this disputation nothing but
the greater confusion of the cause of Rome, Charles Miltitz for
the third time addressed the Fathers of the Order, assembled in
chapter, and sought their advice for the settlement of the case,
as being now in a most troubled and perilous state. Since, by the
favour of God, there was no hope of proceeding against me by
force, some of the more noted of their number were sent to me,
and begged me at least to show respect to your person and to
vindicate in a humble letter both your innocence and my own. They
said that the affair was not as yet in a position of extreme
hopelessness, if Leo X., in his inborn kindliness, would put his
hand to it. On this I, who have always offered and wished for
peace, in order that I might devote myself to calmer and more
useful pursuits, and who for this very purpose have acted with so
much spirit and vehemence, in order to put down by the strength
and impetuosity of my words, as well as of my feelings, men whom
I saw to be very far from equal to myself--I, I say, not only
gladly yielded, but even accepted it with joy and gratitude, as
the greatest kindness and benefit, if you should think it right
to satisfy my hopes.
Thus I come, most blessed Father, and in all abasement beseech
you to put to your hand, if it is possible, and impose a curb to
those flatterers who are enemies of peace, while they pretend
peace. But there is no reason, most blessed Father, why any one
should assume that I am to utter a recantation, unless he prefers
to involve the case in still greater confusion. Moreover, I
cannot bear with laws for the interpretation of the word of God,
since the word of God, which teaches liberty in all other things,
ought not to be bound. Saving these two things, there is nothing
which I am not able, and most heartily willing, to do or to
suffer. I hate contention; I will challenge no one; in return I
wish not to be challenged; but, being challenged, I will not be
dumb in the cause of Christ my Master. For your Blessedness will
be able by one short and easy word to call these controversies
before you and suppress them, and to impose silence and peace on
both sides--a word which I have ever longed to hear.
Therefore, Leo, my Father, beware of listening to those sirens
who make you out to be not simply a man, but partly a god, so
that you can command and require whatever you will. It will not
happen so, nor will you prevail. You are the servant of servants,
and more than any other man, in a most pitiable and perilous
position. Let not those men deceive you who pretend that you are
lord of the world; who will not allow any one to be a Christian
without your authority; who babble of your having power over
heaven, hell, and purgatory. These men are your enemies and are
seeking your soul to destroy it, as Isaiah says, "My people, they
that call thee blessed are themselves deceiving thee." They are
in error who raise you above councils and the universal Church;
they are in error who attribute to you alone the right of
interpreting Scripture. All these men are seeking to set up their
own impieties in the Church under your name, and alas! Satan has
gained much through them in the time of your predecessors.
In brief, trust not in any who exalt you, but in those who
humiliate you. For this is the judgment of God: "He hath cast
down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble."
See how unlike Christ was to His successors, though all will have
it that they are His vicars. I fear that in truth very many of
them have been in too serious a sense His vicars, for a vicar
represents a prince who is absent. Now if a pontiff rules while
Christ is absent and does not dwell in his heart, what else is he
but a vicar of Christ? And then what is that Church but a
multitude without Christ? What indeed is such a vicar but
antichrist and an idol? How much more rightly did the Apostles
speak, who call themselves servants of a present Christ, not the
vicars of an absent one!
Perhaps I am shamelessly bold in seeming to teach so great a
head, by whom all men ought to be taught, and from whom, as those
plagues of yours boast, the thrones of judges receive their
sentence; but I imitate St. Bernard in his book concerning
Considerations addressed to Eugenius, a book which ought to be
known by heart by every pontiff. I do this, not from any desire
to teach, but as a duty, from that simple and faithful solicitude
which teaches us to be anxious for all that is safe for our
neighbours, and does not allow considerations of worthiness or
unworthiness to be entertained, being intent only on the dangers
or advantage of others. For since I know that your Blessedness is
driven and tossed by the waves at Rome, so that the depths of the
sea press on you with infinite perils, and that you are labouring
under such a condition of misery that you need even the least
help from any the least brother, I do not seem to myself to be
acting unsuitably if I forget your majesty till I shall have
fulfilled the office of charity. I will not flatter in so serious
and perilous a matter; and if in this you do not see that I am
your friend and most thoroughly your subject, there is One to see
and judge.
In fine, that I may not approach you empty-handed, blessed
Father, I bring with me this little treatise, published under
your name, as a good omen of the establishment of peace and of
good hope. By this you may perceive in what pursuits I should
prefer and be able to occupy myself to more profit, if I were
allowed, or had been hitherto allowed, by your impious
flatterers. It is a small matter, if you look to its exterior,
but, unless I mistake, it is a summary of the Christian life put
together in small compass, if you apprehend its meaning. I, in my
poverty, have no other present to make you, nor do you need
anything else than to be enriched by a spiritual gift. I commend
myself to your Paternity and Blessedness, whom may the Lord Jesus
preserve for ever. Amen.
Wittenberg, 6th September, 1520.
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