Kim Gentes

Luther: Letters of Spiritual Counsel  is a collection of Martin Luther’s pastoral letters sent to a variety of people, reflecting on as wide a variety of topics as life has to offer. What one notes most poignantly about the letters is their constant pastoral voice, intense compassion for grief-stricken people, and his wisdom and wit in any situation.

The book is arranged in categorized chapters based on the  main theme of the letter. A reader from the present day will be immediately affronted by the dim nature of the topics, which range from comfort, consolation, counsel and instruction for the sick, dying, bereaved, anxious, despondent, doubting, needy, troubled and more. This is not light reading. The weight of the pastoral office of the 16th century European church is pressed into the pages of these letters. This provides us not only with wise counsel for our current churches, but a harrowing picture of the people and time in which Martin Luther’s reforms were birthed.

I must admit, I approached this book initially ready for a barrage of theological treatise, each one restated in particular application for a life situation. I expected the theologian that demarcated the single biggest change in the history of the Christian church to be heady, angry and oozing with profundity. To my surprise, I came away realizing that Martin Luther was a man who cared first for the flock to which had entrusted him to care.  He wasn’t applying theology to an ugly, rude world, in which his meanderings meant nothing to the real people.  He was caring deeply, loving deeply, and hurting deeply with the literal scores of people around him which were broken, dying or in unfathomable pangs of grief.

Yes, he writes letters to princes and elites, administrators and bureaucrats. He tackles government, policies and the profound failures of a power rotted church structure. But at his core, he is a pastor, and these letters don’t let you stop seeing that, over and over again.  All around Luther, family, students, friends, children are all dying or becoming sick of a myriad of diseases from deadly tuberculosis to the dreaded black plague. There is not just sickness and death, there is a permeating sense of fear and a gnawing hopelessness that he seems to be trying to combat with each letter.

 
On of Luther’s prime methods of facing such daunting pain and weakened humanity is to speak boldly of the pain, sickness and death.

When, therefor, I learned most illustrious prince, that Your Lordship has been afflicted with a grave illness...I cannot pretend that I do not hear the voice of Christ crying out to me from Your Lordship’s body and flesh saying, “Behold,  I am sick.” This is so because such evils as illness and the like are not borne by us who are Christians but by Christ himself...1

Luther didn’t see ministry to people as doing something for the ill, poor or broken. He saw it as ministry to the Lord directly, and he used this as his foundation for a theology of suffering. In such a society filled with pain, Luther saw Christ’s suffering as the necessary fellowship to which we are engaged in while on earth.  But Luther brought with his stark vision of pain a transcendent enraptured vision of Christ, when he said, “God is immeasurably better than all his gifts.”2 Such a picture of God is not only beautiful, but necessary, when “his gifts” seemed to come few and far between for the beleaguered parishioners Luther was guiding.

The letters of Luther are not just wise rebukes to a dismal world. His fiery spirit and even humor rise to the top occasionally, giving us a glimpse of wisdom that is embedded in reality. He says of a friend whom he was counselling against being drawn into the falseness of spiritual pride:

Whenever the devil pesters you with these thoughts, at once seek out the company of men, drink more, joke and jest, or engage in some other form of merriment. Sometimes it is necessary to drink a little more, play, jest, and even commit some sin in defiance and contempt of the devil in order not to give him an opportunity to make us scrupulous about trifles. We shall be overcome if we worry too much about falling into some sin.3

As you can see, Martin Luther had an unquenchable belief in the power of the community. This so guided him, it is doubtless that one of the driving currents of his reformation doctrine.

The papists and Anabaptists teach that if you wish to know Christ, you must seek solitude, avoid association with men...This is manifestly diabolical advice...[rather] God wishes that His name be proclaimed and praised before men and spoken of among men rather than that one should flee into a corner... [and] teaches us to do good to our neighbors, and hence we must not be segregated from them. This advice [papists and Anabaptists] is also destructive to the family, economic life, and the state, and it is at odds with the life of Christ, who did not like to be alone and whose career was one of constant turmoil because people were always crowding around him. He was never alone, except when he prayed. Have nothing to do, therefor, with those who say, “Seek solitude and your heart will become pure.”4

Martin Luther had such a strong value of community and companionship that he prescribed it for almost every condition of the body and soul. He was constantly reminding husbands and wives to encourage one another, for people to not be alone when struggling with temptation, depression or illness. Above, he even recognizes that not only is it a teaching against Christ and his body to avoid the community, but it actually destroys families, harms economic viability of individuals and communities and even threatens the state stability. What a brilliant understanding of the power of community.

Product Link on Amazon: Luther: Letters of Spiritual Counsel

Review by
Kim Gentes

[1]Martin Luther, “Luther: Letters of Spiritual Counsel”, translated Theodore G. Tappert (Louisville, KY:Westminster John Knox Press, 1955), Pg 22

[2]Ibid., Pg 54

[3]Ibid., Pg 86

[4]Ibid., Pg 120

The Imitation of Christ is the writing of Thomas Haemerken who was born near Kempen.  He later became known for the locale of his origin and thus Thomas à Kempis is our common rendering of his name and authorship.  The Imitation of Christ is a volume which collects four main books dealing with primarily personal development, purity and piety of the reader, leading them to ultimate union with Christ.

The first two books in the collection are direct admonishments from Thomas directing the reading is proverb-like directives, pitting the failure of human effort against the solace of God’s grace.  The last two books are scripted dialog between Christ and the disciple (implying the writer and also the reader). The writer chooses to take a blunt  instructive tone in the entire treatise, not commending or encouraging the reader, but handling the vast majority of the topics through warnings.  Of particular import to Thomas was to communicate how no human should find consolation in this life, but only in Christ. Repeatedly, he creates the conversation to repudiate the sinful desires of the reader. The only consolation from struggles, temptations, persecution or failures is temporary consolation of God’s approval and sustenance through God’s grace, and death which leads to union with Christ after purgatory.

Thomas has seems of brilliance that flow into praise of God, but he is darkly adamant against letting any such joy spill out in actual physical, emotional or social contexts.  Here is a brilliant quote from him in regards to praise of God:

Would that our sole occupation were the perpetual praise of the Lord our God with heart and voice! Had you no need of food, drink or rest, you could praise God without ceasing, and give yourself wholly to spiritual things.[1]

 For Thomas privacy of all things is a matter of utmost piety.  The book provides brilliant glimpses into sinful and human motivations and how to conquer such devices through keeping vigilant in confession, penance and communion.  Thomas fails to learn the lesson of St. Francis however, and reverts to the pre-Franciscan millennial in which solitude from people was a necessary act of lifelong piety. Rather than acquiring the self-abasement of the monastics and combining the communal commitment of Francis, Thomas à Kempis undoes the brilliance of Francis advancement and calls all devout Religious to return to solitude and cares none for the clearly Biblical mandate of brotherly love and the community of the Church.

The book, like the other Christian mystic writings of the 10th-14th centuries, summates with its goal of union with Christ.  This is particularly interesting in “The Imitation” in that Thomas focuses exclusively on the Eucharistic sacrament as the ultimate manifestation of God’s help for the Christian.  This is woven beautifully into a prayerful call for Christ to join the believer in the communion sacrament, where Thomas says :

Dear Lord, I long to receive You with deepest devotion and ardent love. and with all the affection and favour of my heart, as many Saints and holy persons have longed to receive You in Communion, who were especially pleasing to You by the holiness of their lives, and were on fire with devotion. O my God, Eternal Love, my supreme good and eternal delight, I wish to receive You with the most eager devotion and deepest reverence that any of Your Saints have ever felt. or could feel.[2]

Product Link: The Imitation of Christ (Penguin Classics)

Review by Kim Gentes

[1]Thomas à Kempis, “The Imitation of Christ”, (London, England:Penguin Books 1952), Pg 65
[2]Ibid., Pg 214