On Luther's Relationship to Mysticism

Did Luther Abandon the Mystical Tradition?

The question of Martin Luther’s relationship to mystical theology is one that has not been definitively answered in Luther scholarship. Proposed answers to the question continue to divide readers of both the reformer and the late German medieval mystical tradition as represented in the Rhineland Mystics. In contrast to what is sometimes assumed, this divide in attitudes toward mystical theology within the Lutheran tradition is not only the product of the rise of Luther scholarship as a distinct discipline in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. While much modern discussion of this question arises from Ritschl’s condemnation of mystical theology in his Justification and Reconciliation (1870-1874), and the following debates that occurred during the Luther renaissance surrounding the writing of Karl Holl, similar debates about the veracity of the mystical tradition and its compatibility with Lutheran soteriology are nearly as old as the Reformation itself.

The most obvious place where such a divide makes itself known is in the diversitity of responses to Johann Arndt’s True Christianity, first published in 1605. Rather than early the Lutheran dogmatics textbooks which were the most widely read books among most Lutheran pastors of his age, Arndt spent the majority of his own reading in the writings of mystics like John Tauler, the unknown writer of the Theologia Germanica, and Thomas A Kempis. For Arndt, there was profound continuity between these authors and the theology contained within the Lutheran Confessions— afterall, Luther himself cited the German mystics as his primary influences. While Johann Gerhard defended Arndt (he helped get the work published), others were concerned that Arndt had internalized salvation, moving away from the forensic approach to justification that characterizes Lutheran doctrine. Though the debate is not only about Luther as an individual theologian, much of it does surround the question of Luther’s relationship to mystical theology, and whether or not mysticism is, in its entirety, to be identified with the enthusiasm Luther unhesitatingly condemns.

Luther’s Definitions of Mysticism

One of the difficulties of discussing this issue is that “mysticism” as a concept is not so clearly defined. Much modern discussion on the question relies on Ritschl’s characterization of the movement (which is not a positive one), which is sometimes set in direct opposition to the scholastic approach of the medieval schoolmen. Among the many problems with this is that sometimes the scholastic theological method and mystical piety are found within the same figures. Among the Lutherans, Johann Gerhard is a prime example of the merging of both approaches. Further, it is unquestionably true that Luther, and Lutherans more generally, reject certain forms of mystical piety. Luther repeatedly critiques Pseudo-Dionysius, for example, as early as 1516, and then later reiterates these same critiques against the radical Anabaptists in Against the Heavenly Prophets (1525) among other similar writings. The Lutheran Orthodox then level the same criticisms in their responses to the Weigelians and Schwenkfeldians in the seventeenth century, and then toward the radical pietists in the eighteenth century. The question is whether these condemnations are of mysticism as such, or of a certain type of mysticism. I contend for the latter.

In his 1937 essay, “Luther und die Mystik,” Erich Vogelsang makes a distinction between three different types of mysticism which receive diverse responses from Luther: Dionysian, Roman, and Germanic.¹ It is the first of these which receives the most criticism from Luther, for its focus on unmediated union with God, neglecting both the external word and the incarnate Word for communion with the Deus nudus. As Bengt Hoffman summarizes, “It is hazardous to seek unity with God outside the Word made flesh.”² The second type of mysticism, the Romanic, has something of a mixed reception from Luther in Vogelsang’s estimation. The two primary sources Luther cites (very often with approval) as representative of this school are Bernard of Clairvaux and John Gerson. It is from this latin mysticism that Luther derives the bridal imagery which is central to his conception of the great exchange, in which Christ shares is righteousness with his bride (the soul), while the bride shares her sin with the bridegroom (Christ).³ As Vogelsang argues, as much as Luther speaks positively about these authors, he believes that they miss the essential element of suffering and anguish within Christian experience (that which is associated with the work of the law). It is in the third group of mystics, the Germanic, that Luther finds the most commonality.

Luther’s love for the German mystical tradition is undisputed in his earlier years. He first published the Theologia Germanica in 1516, and then released a fuller text in 1518. Until about 1520, both John Tauler and the Theologia Germanica are cited frequently by the reformer. In his 1518 preface to the work, Luther contends that “Next to the Bible and Saint Augustine no other book has come to my attention from which I have learned—and desired to learn—more concerning God, Christ, man, and what all things are.”⁴ For early Luther, this book was proof that the theology of Wittenberg was not novel, but was a continuation of the German mystical theological tradition which preceded him.

What is disputed is how far these works impact the theology of the later Luther. One approach contends that there is a decisive break with the Rhineland mystics when Luther encounters the radical reformers in the mid 1520s who use the writings of mystics to defend their claims of immediate personal revelation. For some scholars, the polemical writings of Luther in this area demonstrate a move away from mysticism, as the critiques of the Schwärmer would similarly apply to mystical piety as a whole.

Challenging the Break

The argument toward this supposed break with Luther’s earlier thought relies on a couple assumptions here. First, that Luther’s theology is not substantially formed by the end of 1518, such that a move toward a focus on the external Word (and his doctrine of justification) only occurs in the 1520s. Second, it takes Luther’s critiques of the Schwärmer as representative of his attitude toward mysticism as such. This view tends to assume that Luther does not strongly differentiate between the various strains of mystical piety which Vogelsang outlines. Out of these two assumptions then arises the contention that Luther only speaks positively about these authors in his earlier writing, and that once his fully-formed Reformation soteriological system is put together, he completely abandons these writers.

While the first of these assumptions merits a response, it is a bit too complex for an article like this, so for the time being I will leave the question aside (perhaps the topic of a later article). The second is more easily delt with. It is important to note that Vogelsang’s argument regarding Luther’s reception of these strains of mystical thought do not depend merely on the occasional statement of the reformer toward representatives of each school, but are based on notes taken by Luther himself in the margins of these texts. From the years 1515 to 1518, Luther spent a significant amount of time in these sources, and when doing so, he had a habit of writing “sic” (yes) when he agreed with something he read, and “non” (no) when he disagreed. Dionysius’s writings are full of “non” in the margins (though not exclusively), Gerson’s works have a mixture of “non” and “sic,” and Tauler’s works have entirely positive notations.

What this demonstrates is that as early as 1516, Luther had developed his opposition to Dionysian mysticism for its Christless piety. In other words, Luther condemns Pseudo-Dionysius in the same year in which Luther published the Theologia Germanica. Luther’s later condemnations of the Schwärmer do not automatically necessitate a blanket condemnation of mysticism, as Luther’s critiques of the enthusiasts are largely reiterations of his much earlier opposition to Pseudo-Dionysius which he did not apply to Tauler or the Theologia Germanica.

To be clear, it is true that Luther cites both of these sources far less often later in his career. Though many of his foundational distinctions and ideas arise from these authors, they do not contain a fully formed doctrine of justification by faith, and tend to be less focused on the Sacraments than Luther is. Further, Luther departs quite significantly from the entire late medieval mystical tradition in his contention that the unio mystica is not something to be achieved as the end of a threefold process of purgation, illumination, and union. It is instead the very beginning of Christian piety—a gift delivered freely in faith. While one’s experience of union may increase, the union itself is a Baptismal reality, delivered to all who receive the Sacrament. The question is whether these shifts in Luther’s thought are a development of this earlier theology, or a departure from it. I contend the former.

It is noteworthy that Luther never speaks negatively about the Theologia Germanica or John Tauler, even later in life. As Heiko Oberman shows, while Tauler is not mentioned often in late Luther, he is named ocassionally, and is always cited positively.⁵ Oberman also shows that the same is true of Gerson, who Luther continues to recommend reading throughout his life, though urges students to do so “cum judicio,” (with judgment). The same is true of Bernard. This would all be quite unusual for Luther if there was such a strong departure, as Luther was never one to shy away from expressing his distaste for a theologian or text that he considered errant.

Conclusion

There is plenty to say (and has been said) about the particulars of German mysticism and exactly which elements of the Theologia Germanica and Tauler were formative for Luther. To say that Luther was—in some sense—a mystic is not to say that there is some kind of 1:1 correlation between Luther’s spirituality and those figures who came before him. Instead, it is simply to say that there are elements of mystical piety and theology that were formative in Luther’s Reformation discovery, and that those elements remained a part of his theology throughout the entirety of his career. Further, those mystical elements remain an essential part of the Lutheran heritage even unto the present day, whether the roots of these things are recognized or not. This necessitates using precision in our language and ridding ourselves of the idea that mysticism is always identical with its Dyionisian and enthusiastic varieties. There is a Christocentric contemplative mysticism that is not only allowable in a Lutheran framework, but is essential to it.

1. Erich Vogelsang, “Luther und die Mystik,” in D. Th. Knolle, ed., Luther Jahrbuch 1937.

2. Hoffman, Bengt. Theology of the Heart: The Mysticism of Martin Luther, (Minneapolis: Kirk House, 1997), 212.

3. Writers like Franz Posset have demonstrated strong continuity between Bernard and Luther in a number of areas. See: Pater Bernhardus: Martin Luther and Bernard of Clairvaux. (Kalamazoo, MIL Cistercian Publications, 2000).

4. The Theologia Germanica of Martin Luther. Translated by Bengt Hoffman. (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), 54.

5. Oberman, Heiko, "Simul Gemitus et Raptus: Luther and Mysticism," in The Dawn of the Reformation: Essays in Late Medieval and Early Reformation Thought, (Edinburgh: T.&T. Clark, 1986), 126–34.