Martin Luther and the rise of the printing industry
Note to readers: this essay segues into another article on the development of Biblical Criticism as an unintended consequence of the Protestant Reformation
By DAVID MYTON
On October 31 1517 Martin Luther, a professor at the University of Wittenberg nailed a document to the door of the town’s church inviting citizens to a debate centred on 95 theses (or arguments) concerning the sale of Indulgences - a sort of insurance policy that once purchased would cut short the sinner’s time in Purgatory.
These Indulgences were being hawked by one Johann Tetzel, a Dominican friar said to be a superlative salesman who “combined the showmanship and ingenuity of a PT Barnum with the eloquence of a Winston Churchill”. (Derek Wilson, Out Of The Storm, The Life and Legacy of Martin Luther, Hutchinson, London 2007, p89)
A man with a gift for marketing, Tetzel had come up with a catchy slogan … “When the coin in the coffer rings/A soul from purgatory springs”. (ibid, p89)
Tetzel, who in a former life was a member of the Inquisition, toured the district of Magdeburg followed by a procession of black-robed acolytes.
Some would carry a cross, others the papal arms, and one would hold a gold-embroidered cushion holding the Pope’s bull proclaiming the indulgence. And there would, of course, be jars into which the faithful would drop their donations. (Wilson, p91)
It was business as usual. Pope Leo X needed the money to complete his building projects in Rome - in particular renovations to St Peter’s which, to be fair, was in a pretty shabby condition.
Luther, then aged 34 and a professional academic with a doctorate, lectured at Wittenberg University on biblical interpretation.
Up to this point, he had “read and taught the Sacred Scriptures most diligently privately and publicly for seven years, so I knew them nearly all by memory …I had also acquired the beginning of the knowledge of Christ and faith in him, that is, not by works but by faith in Christ are we made righteous and saved.” (Cited in Denis R Janz, ed, A Reformation Reader. Primary Texts with Introductions 2nd ed, Fortress Press, 2008, p79)
As a theologian he had acquired extensive knowledge of biblical languages, and had translated the Bible into German. He was dedicated and prolific, a man who studied incessantly.
All this resulted in a prodigious number of writings: “commentaries, disputations, treatises, tracts, meditations, sermons, letters, translations, exegetic analysis … Even Luther himself was somewhat appalled at the volume of his writings … ‘What a blabbermouth I am,’ he said.” (Janz, op cit, pp76-77)
His argument against Tetzel - the famous ‘95 Theses or Disputation on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences - stemmed, he said, out of love and zeal for the truth and the desire to bring it to the light.
It should be noted, however, that Luther’s theses did not outright reject indulgences, nor Purgatory, nor the sacrament of penance. He was not obviously anti-Rome.
What he did stress, however, is that “the true treasure of the church is the most holy gospel of the glory and grace of God” (Thesis 62) adding that “papal indulgences cannot remove the very least of venial sins as far as guilt is concerned”. (Thesis 76)
Raising funds from selling relics
Indulgences were nothing new - they went back to at least the 12th century when monks and canons toured Europe soliciting funds from selling various relics.
And it was not all supply-side pressure: they were faced with “irrepressible demand” from buyers who “were quite happy with what was being offered, were if anything desperate to accumulate these little slips of parchment”. (R.N. Swanson, Religion and Devotion in Europe. c12-15 - c1515, Cambridge Medieval Textbooks, Cambridge University Press 1995, p219)
So what was the big deal? What happened to put Martin Luther in the spotlight or, more contemporaneously, the candlelight?
Martin Luther happened, that’s what.
Luther was a conscientious hard worker, intelligent and learned: he knew the Scriptures well, and he loved to read, especially the New Testament where he “acquired the beginning of the knowledge of Christ and faith in him, i.e. not by works but by faith are we made righteous and saved” (‘Autobiographical Fragment: Preface to the Complete Edition of Luther’s Latin Writings (1545)’ in Janz, op cit p78)
Luther made copies of his Wittenberg theses and gave them to various people he knew in the community so they could see for themselves what he had argued. Then they passed the document on to others, and so it became widely distributed throughout Germany.
He engaged in debates including one in Heidelberg attended by Martin Bucer, Wolfgang Capito, Theobald Billican, Martin Frecht and Johannes Brenz - all future leaders of the Reformation in southern Germany. Much impressed, each disseminated Luther’s message across the land. (Lyndal Roper, Martin Luther. Renegade and Prophet, Random House, New York, 2017, p94-95)
And then he discovered print - or, more accurately, print discovered him.
And now … Printing by movable metal type
In 1440 Johann Gensfleisch zur Laden zum Gutenberg (Gutenberg’s full name) invented printing by movable metal type and in so doing changed the world - especially Martin Luther’s portion of it.
Gutenberg produced in print his eponymous Bible, a deed that was to change the face of Christianity and eventually most everything else applicable to Europe.
It was not long before anyone with enough money - not just the clergy - could own and read the Bible. The official Vulgate was produced in Latin, but soon local language versions went on sale.
The Church claimed the sole right to interpret the text, but as personal reading of the Scriptures boomed it became almost impossible to stop individuals interpreting for themselves, especially as more local language versions were printed across the Continent.
Luther was a prodigious polemical author. He wrote works on matters including Indulgences, the Sacraments, the Scriptures, plus autobiography, monastic life and vows, theologians, and human sinfulness.
He followed with books on Christ’s Passion, Church reform, the Freedom of a Christian, prefaces to Old and New Testaments, an introduction to the Christian faith, ‘Articles that pertain to the office and work of Jesus Christ, or to our redemption’, Sin, Repentance, Baptism, Confession, Letters, and much more.
But all the while his “unitary, controlling concept” was “justification by faith alone”.
“Luther never tired of explaining this, for he believed it to be the heart of Christianity, the ‘gospel’ as he called it,” writes Denis R. Janz. It was the “hinge on which all else turns,” the “issue on which the church stands or falls.” (Janz, op cit, p77)
“The Word of God cannot be received and cherished by any works whatever but only by faith. Therefore it is clear that, as the soul needs only the Word of God for its life and righteousness, so it is justified by faith alone and not any works; for if it could be justified by anything else, it would not need the Word, and consequently it would not need faith …” (Ibid, p109)
Lyndal Roper writes that Luther’s use of print was tactically brilliant … “He knew exactly how to forestall censorship and protect his ideas by spreading them as widely as possible, each new work marking yet another radical advance delivered to an audience that was hungry for more. The logic of the market and its craving for novelty was part of what propelled Luther’s cause … No one had previously used print to such devastating effect.” (Roper, op cit, pp108-109)
The big boom in book sales
In 1517 the city of Augsburg’s printing industry had published just 37 titles in the entire year. But sales boomed after Luther’s Wittenberg Indulgences controversy.
“Overall production rose to 89 titles in 1518 and 117 in 1519; Luther accounted for 41 of these extra editions. In 1520 Augsburg’s printers would publish a staggering 90 editions of Luther’s works,” writes Andrew Pettegree (Brand Luther. 1517, Printing, and the Making of the Reformation, Penguin Press, New York, 2015, pp 104-105)
Large books presented a big risk to publishers because of the costs incurred in production and distribution. Luther’s publications generally were pamphlet size and could be produced in a couple of days - sale was virtually assured and the market largely local.
“It was no wonder that printers came to love Luther, and Luther came to transform the German printing industry.” (Pettegree, p109)
Even after his death the printing industry continued to grow on the back of Luther’s writings, reaching 165 new editions in 1563 and more than 200 each year in the last decade of the century.
Wittenberg had become Germany’s largest publishing centre, overtaking Strasbourg, Cologne, Augsburg and Nuremberg. (ibid, p23)
In the main Luther had been content to write theses, lectures and sermons, defending and explaining his various propositions. But by 1520 he had segued into a new, more relaxed and confident style.
“Above all he addressed the readers directly, pulling them into the argument and leading them through the steps by which he had reached his own position … The fact that many of these tracts were often illustrated with pictures of Luther on the front not only made the man and his message inseparable, but helped readers to establish a relationship with their author.” (Roper, p145)
‘The cult of saints should be stopped’
Luther’s To the Christian Nobility of the German Nation, published in August 1520, sold out in two weeks. In it he argued that since the Church seemed unable to reform itself, lay authorities must step in and do it for them. Rome, he said, was a centre of business, sucking Germany dry of money.
“The cult of saints should be stopped, pilgrimages should be ended, religious orders should not beg, monastic vows should be binding, yearly Masses in memory of the dead should be abolished … the sheer extent of the practices Luther calls into question is breathtaking. His yardstick is the Bible.” (Roper 148-49)
In the meantime Luther was creating “a whole evangelistic system of theology and ethics. Moreover, he was making the individual conscience the sole arbiter in such matters. No other authority governing human conduct existed than the word of God and no ecclesiastical or civil power could be placed above it,” writes Derek Wilson (Out Of The Storm. The Life and Legacy of Martin Luther, Hutchinson, London, 2007, p179.)
All this dissemination was aided by the printing industry he helped to kick-start.
Despite all the controversies surrounding his work and his polemics against the established Church, Luther died of natural causes on February 18 1546.
The main focus of this essay was Luther's connection to the printing industry and the mutual benefits that resulted. I have made little comment about his career, personality and relationship to family, friends, colleagues and his many opponents.
He could be a very unpleasant man, the more so as he aged. I’ll leave it at that.
Unintended consequences: the rise of the Bible critics
The long, slow decline of Christianity began in the 16th Century partly as an unintended consequence of the Protestant Reformation.
In the medieval era, cultural and intellectual life had been closely linked to a Christianity centred in the Roman Catholic Church – it was priestly and sacramental, with confession and communion central to the notion of salvation.
But the Protestant reformers understood the Bible to be the inerrant word of God - it was the central pillar of faith. And faith alone (sola fide) was the key to Salvation.
Of course, Bibles need to be read so there was a parallel rise in printing technology – as well as in the sciences in general – and education and literacy rates rose across Europe.
It wasn’t long before certain scholars decided that Scripture ought to be subject to the same objective scrutiny such as that applied to secular writings.
This was part of a process the German sociologist Max Weber called intellectualization – in which older, traditional elements of knowledge such as religion, theology, and metaphysics, “were slowly pushed back to the realm of the superstitious, mystical, or simply irrational”.
This led to what Weber termed Entzauberung – disenchantment.
A tissue of meaningless mysteries
For example, the Dutch philosopher Baruch Spinoza (1632-1677) argued that religious faith had become “a mere compound of credulity and prejudices” and a “tissue of meaningless mysteries”.
In 18th century France the philosopher Denis Diderot wrote that God had “come to rank among the most sublime and useless truths.”
Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860) declared there was “no Absolute, no Reason, no God, no Spirit at work in the world - nothing but brute instinctive will to live”.
As the years passed into the 19th century the German philosopher Ludwig Feuerbach (1804-72) argued that God was simply a human projection.
Feuerbach’s promotion of atheism and his critical view of Christianity were highly influential on the likes of Charles Darwin and Karl Marx.
Marx (1818-1883), who focused on economics and the structure of work and society, was highly critical of religion.
“Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people,” he declared.
In 1882 Friedrich Nietzsche asserted that God was dead … “We have killed him,you and I. We are all his murderers.”
Meanwhile, a highly influential new scholarly field of Biblical Criticism had arisen in what today is Germany.
Criticism in this sense doesn’t mean carping and complaining: the word’s Greek root – krinein - suggests something like to “discriminate, separate, distinguish”, to discover a text’s original meaning within its historical context.
A new rationalism and empiricism
Most if not all of these emerging Biblical scholars were Christians. However, they came infused with a new rationalism and empiricism that sought to reason its way into the mysteries of religion along the strict lines of historical observation. Facts trumped faith.
One of the earliest of the new critics was the Prussian poet J G von Herder (1744-1803) – one of the first Old Testament scholars to base his observations about Scripture in the context of the larger background of ancient Near Eastern culture.
The rationalist thinker J G Eichhorn (1752-1827) argued that much of the Old Testament writings “displayed more of the character of Hebrew national literature than what might be expected to constitute Holy Scripture”.
Eichhorn doubted that the Pentateuch – the first five books of the Bible – was written by a single author, as then supposed. There was just too much variation in form and style, he argued.
Hermann Reimarus (1694-1768), a professor of oriental languages in Hamburg, argued the Gospels were not historical “since many of their narratives reflect concepts that were developed long after the events they purport to narrate took place”.
The German scholar Herman Gunkel (1862-1932) had observed the work of the Brothers Grimm – yes, the collectors and compilers of Fairy Tales – and noted many of these stories were comparable in form to the Biblical narratives. For Gunkel the sagas of Genesis were essentially folklore, not historical fact.
David Friederich Strauss (1808-74) argued that the Gospel accounts could not be understood as historical, but instead were “concerned with purveying a Christ Myth”.
And scholars such as Martin Dibelius (1883-1947) and Rudolf Bultmann (1884-1976) posited that the Gospels were not seamless narratives, but rather a collection of stories and sayings of Jesus that had been edited to form a whole.
And so it went. For many people the Bible remained an inspired, comforting – and challenging – a work in which every word was inspired by God.
But for far more people, the Bible was a book they never read at all.
Martin Luther mistranslated 'fide' as 'Glaubens'. Thus faith has come to mean credulity. But 'credo' is not 'fido'. We call a dog Fido because a dog is loyal; anyone who has faked throwing a tennis ball for a dog to fetch knows that what a dog believes is worthless. And anyone who has lived with a dog knows about a dog's loyalty.
The letter to the Hebrews makes the point that loyalty (to God) is accounted as righteousness. This is a Roman value. At the time that document was composed, the Roman Emperor had a lifetime appointment, and the risk that the appointment would be cut short was high enough to make loyalty the supreme virtue. And, given the frequency of civil conflict in Rome, it wasn't just for the Emperor. Thus the letter to the Hebrews marks a transition in Christianity from being a sect of Judaism to becoming a Roman religion.
The starting point for loyalty as a virtue is Paul's vision that people are saved by 'pistis Christou', the loyalty of the Messiah to God. Of course, today that is mistranslated as faith in Christ, thanks to Luther's mistranslation.
Contrasting with the letter to the Hebrews is Jesus's definition of Righteousness in Matthew 25: feed the hungry, quench the thirsty, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, visit the confined. These are specific actions, not an orientation (loyalty), certainly not a belief. I like to point out that an atheistic homosexual could meet Jesus's definition of righteousness. Also, recall the point in James that loyalty without righteous actions is dead. These people were Jews, not Romans. And Jesus was crucified as an enemy of the Roman Empire (see Josephus Flavius's explanation of 'listoi', translated as 'thieves', but referring to people violently resisting the collection of taxes for Rome; also Jesus's riposte that the Temple, by allowing Romans to have sacrifices done for them, had become a den of 'thieves').
Buddha did not teach Buddhism, and Jesus did not teach Christianity. Religions are social constructs.
So fascinating how scriptural literalism and a desire to centre the word of God paved the way for a critical reading of scripture and questioning of God.