Augustine of Hippo on Sex

St. Augustine’s desire for all earthly things, especially sex, became a problem.  Although it is often said that Augustine’s negative preoccupation with sex was the result of his youthful indiscretions, but this misses the larger reality of his Christian-Platonic worldview.  Indeed, when examined closely, Augustine’s youthful sexual dalliances and his later relationship with his unnamed mistress appear trite by modern standards.  Augustine admits that he lived with his mistress for nearly a decade as a common-law wife to whom he was faithful while raising a son.[1] Moreover, although celibacy was certainly a prized ideal in the early Church, Christian clergy and bishops regularly married in late Antiquity.[2]  That all Christians did not share Augustine’s negative attitude to sex is clearly demonstrated by his late debate with Julian of Eclanum.[3] 

Hence, from a strictly Christian moral standpoint (1 Cor. 7:38) there was no particular reason why marriage and lawful sexual activity was not an option open to Augustine.  Nevertheless, Augustine choose celibacy and insisted on the problematic nature of all sexual desire.  In light of this, it would be more accurate to see Augustine’s negative attitude toward sex as being a result of his desire to be a Christian-Platonic philosopher who sought the eternal over the distraction of the temporal.[4]  In discussing the matter in his Soliloquies (written just before his baptism) Augustine comments that he is committed to giving up sex completely in order to purely pursue the life of the mind.[5]

Hence, within Augustine’s Christian-Platonic framework, much as in the cosmic hierarchy the baser and more material is to be hierarchically ordered to the greater and more spiritual, so to the human heart should be ordered to the eternal and spiritual, and not to enjoyment the temporal.[6]  Indeed, in the pre-lapsarian state, the baser desires did not interfere with the exercise of reason.  Adam and Eve would not have enjoyed or even desired sex, but instead would have engaged in the sex-act purely for the rational purposes of reproduction.[7]  The orderly nature of the cosmos- where the material was subordinate the spiritual- would have been reproduced in the human heart as a microcosm of the macrocosm.  Adam and his bride would have never burned with desire for one another but would have simply called their genitals to attention by an act of will, engaged in reproductive act without pleasure, and deactivated their genitals just as easily.[8] 

Augustine saw his own struggle to quiet his sexual desires and live a life unadulterated life of reason to be symptom of the Fall.  Sinful desire which interferes with reason (concupiscence) is a punishment for sin.[9]  Just creation is in revolt against the creator, so too the desires of the fallen person are at war with the rational and spiritual centers of the self: “In short, to say all in a word, what but disobedience was the punishment of disobedience in that sin? For what else is man’s misery but his own disobedience to himself, so that in consequence of his not being willing to do what he could do, he now wills to do what he cannot?”[10] 

Even without sin, created being is inherently unstable.[11]  Creation comes from nothingness and has a tendency of drifting back into nothingness.[12]  For this reason, humans and angels are in need of grace to prop them up even in their state of integrity.[13]  Only by receiving a special grace can humans and angels not drift back into nothingness through falling into sin.[14]  In Augustine’s thought- much as in later Roman Catholicism- although “grace” (gratia) certainly comes by God’s undeserved favor (i.e., the Pauline charis), it is primarily defined as God’s supernatural assistance and self-communication to his rational creatures in order that they might achieve higher and greater degrees of moral regeneration.[15] 


[1] Augustine, Confessions, 4.2; NPNFa, 1:68-9.

[2] William Philipps, Clerical Celibacy: The Heritage (London: Continuum, 2004), 81-96.

[3] Gerald Bonner, “Pelagianism and Augustine” in Doctrinal Diversity: Varieties of Early Christianity: A Collection of Scholarly Essays, ed. Everett Ferguson (New York: Garland Publishing, 1999), 203-4.

[4] Gary Willis, Augustine’s Confessions: A Biography (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2011), 59-62.

[5] Augustine, Soliloquies, 1.17; NPNFa, 7:543.

[6] Steven Schafer, Marriage, Sex, and Procreation: Contemporary Revisions to Augustine’s Theology of Marriage (Eugene, OR: Pickwick Publications, 2019), 28-9.

[7] Augustine, City of God, 14.24; NPNFa, 2:280-1.

[8] Augustine, City of God, 14.24; NPNFa, 2:280-1.

[9] Timo Nisula, Augustine and the Functions of Concupiscence (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 258-9.

[10] Augustine, City of God, 14.15; NPNFa, 2:275.

[11] Augustine, City of God, 12.15; NPNFa, 2:235-6.

[12] Paul Blowers, Drama of the Divine Economy: Creator and Creation in Early Christian Theology and Piety (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 298.

[13] Augustine, Enchiridion on Faith, Hope, and Love, 106; NPNFa, 3:271.

[14] Augustine, City of God, 14.2; NPNFa, 2:282.

[15] Augustine, On the Grace of Christ, 1.15-16; NPNFa, 5:223-4.


From the draft manuscript for Jack D. Kilcrease, Justification by Word (Lexham Press, forthcoming).

Inerrancy and the Sacramental Nature of Scripture

By contrast, the confessional Lutheran commitment to the inerrancy of Scripture is based on the sacramental nature of Scripture. Just as the reality of grace in the sacraments is hidden in and under the physical elements and is recognizable only due to the word of promise attached to them, God’s Word in Scripture is recognizable as such because of the dominical promise of infallibility Christ has attached to the authors and their words. Hence, calling into question the inerrancy of the Bible also means calling into question the validity of the sacraments. If Christ’s promise remains good for the sacraments, then it should hold for the inerrancy of the Scriptures. Because Christ has risen from the dead, thereby validating all He has said and done, we must believe Him over our fallen and finite human reason. Indeed, as Luther aptly states in the Large Catechism regarding the promise of Christ: “Because we know that God does not lie. I and my neighbor and, in short, all men, may err and deceive, but the Word of God cannot err.”[1] If [Matthew] Becker wishes to accept the validity of the sacraments (as one suspects he does) but not the inerrancy of Scripture, then he must insist on arbitrarily rejecting one of Christ’s dominical promises while accepting the others.[2]

Finally, as observed earlier with regard to [Rudolf] Bultmann, the Gospel cannot be isolated from the scriptural worldview, narrative, and other dogmas of the faith. As we have shown repeatedly, while the Gospel is the central article (Hauptartikel) of the faith, it nevertheless does not exhaust the content of the Christian faith. Neither does the Gospel exist in isolation from other revealed truths. By analogy we may say that if the Scriptures are like a wheel, the Gospel is the axle and the other articles of the faith like the spokes. Although an axle is central to the functioning of a wheel, the wheel is in fact non-functional without the spokes.[3]

In the same manner, the Gospel is ultimately a solution to the problem of the sin committed originally by Adam and Eve and transmitted to their descendants. Adam and Eve could sin only because they were creatures who violated the Law of their creator God. Similarly, Christ’s atoning work would be incoherent without the doctrines of the Trinity or the incarnation or the background of the whole history of Israel. The difficulty with Becker wishing to make the Gospel the ultimate criterion of all theological authority is that the Gospel does not make sense without the context of the total witness of the Bible and hence its inerrant authority.[4] If I believe the Gospel as true unconditionally, then I must believe the whole Bible as unconditionally true.


[1] LC IV (Bente, 747).

[2] Reu makes a similar point. See Johann Michael Reu, Lutheran Dogmatics (Dubuque: Wartburg Theological Seminary, 1951), 459–60.

[3] This is a common analogy within many conservative Lutheran circles. Nevertheless, I thank the Rev. David Fleming for first alerting me to it.

[4] Becker, Fundamental Theology, 285.

From Jack D. Kilcrease, Holy Scripture, Confessional Lutheran Dogmatics, Gifford A. Grobien, ed. (Fort Wayne, IN: The Luther Academy, 2020), 110-111.

Creation by Word

Central to the biblical narrative is the creative and redemptive power of the Word of God.  God calls both the old and new creation into existence by means of his efficacious word (creatio per verbum).  This is why Oswald Bayer, in his exposition of Luther’s doctrine of creation has argued that creation itself is a form of justification.[1]  In calling creation into existence, God judicially affirms its status and identity as his good creation.  Moreover, just as Christians are justified and sanctified by the work of the Word and the Spirt (Jn. 3:5, Eph. 5:26), so too creation comes about by way of God speaking his Word in the power of the Spirit: “By the word of the LORD the heavens were made, and by the breath of his mouth all their host” (Ps. 33:6).  As Luther observes in his Genesis commentary, this makes creatures created words in analogy to God’s eternal created Word: “By speaking, God created all things and worked through his Word.  All his works are words of God, created by the uncreated Word.”[2] 

Much like human words, God’s Word possesses a number of different dimensions.  Scriptures speak of God’s will and reality as being revealed by his Word.  Indeed, the idea of the Word of God as the “testimony” of God’s previous creative and redemptive acts is of central importance in the Bible (Ps. 71:15-18, 119:46, 2 Tim. 1:8, 1 Jn. 1:1-4, Rev. 12:11).[3]  In John’s Gospel, Jesus is consistently described as the true and eternal Word of God because he reveals and represents the Father (Jn. 14:9).  Luther in his own writings referred to this dimension of the divine Word as “Call-Words” (Heissel-Wort).[4]  Call-words are signifiers that signify states of affairs are already an actuality. 

The second dimension of God’s Word is its efficacious nature.  The word functions in such a way so as not merely to testify to states of affairs that already are actualized (testimony), but to call into existence new realities.  Luther called this phenomenon “Deed-Words” (Thettel-Wort).[5]  God calls creation into existence (Gen. 1), Jesus heals by his word, and the word of the disciples forgives and binds sins because of Jesus’ divine promise and command (Jn. 20).  Human language functions analogously when effective statements are made such as: “I pronounce you man and wife” or “I bestow this office upon you.”  This efficacious quality of language is what is encompassed in what modern speech-act theory has parsed into the categories of “Illocutionary” and “Perlocutionary” speech.[6]


[1] Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 95-101.

[2] LW 1:47. See discussion in Bayer’s description of Luther’s position in “Creation as Speech Act.”  Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 101-5. 

[3] Gerhard von Rad described this as the theme of “Recitation.”  See Gerhard von Rad, Old Testament Theology: Single Volume Edition, 2 vols. trans. D. M. G. Stalker (Peabody, Mass: Prince Press, 2005). 

[4] David Steinmetz, “Luther and the Two Kingdoms,” in Luther in Context (Bloomington: University of Indiana Press, 1986), 115.

[5] See LW 37:180-88 for Luther on the different dimensions of the word.  On Luther’s position, David Steinmetz writes:“Luther draws a distinction between two kinds of words in order to make clear what the Bible means when it speaks of the Word of God.  There is, of course the Heissel-Wort, the Call-Word, the word which people use when they apply names to things which already exist.  The biblical story of Adam in the garden is a fine example of this.  He names all the biblical creatures.  He does not create them; he only sorts them out and gives them labels.  But there is a second kind of word, the Thettel-Wort or Deed-Word, which not only names but effects what it signifies.  Adam looks around him and says, “There is a cow and an owl and a horse and a mosquito.”  But God looks around him and says, “Let there be light,” and there is light.  Steinmetz, “Luther and the Two Kingdoms,” 115.

[6] See J. L. Austin, How to do Things with Words (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1975). 

From the draft manuscript for Jack D. Kilcrease, Justification by Word (Lexham Press, forthcoming).

The Function and Proclamation of Holy Scriptures

The ultimate goal of the inspiration and writing of Holy Scripture is the oral proclamation of the Word within the life of the church. In turn, the ultimate purpose of the proclamation of the Word is to give Christ and His promise to creatures of faith. The written Scriptures, like sacraments, are nothing less than a delivery system for the truth and presence of the crucified and risen Christ (Mt 18:20; Lk 10:16; Jn 6:63; 2 Tm 3:15).[1] Robert Preus observes that such a view is in accordance with the teaching of the Lutheran scholastics, who understood Scripture “assumes its true significance only when viewed soteriologically, [that is] when considered as an operative factor in God’s plan of salvation.”[2]

Therefore, contrary to the assumptions of much of modern Protestantism (whether liberal or conservative), the Bible is not an abstract authority, properly understood by rational and autonomous human beings within the sphere of their own subjective solitude (2 Pt 1:20). It is not a compendium of abstract bits of heavenly information that can be picked apart and assembled in order to say virtually anything. Rather, Scripture’s proper purpose is to be proclaimed and understood in the midst of the church and its sacramental life of forgiveness. Consequently, the presence of the risen Christ and the forgiveness He offers in the midst of the church is the lodestar for any proper understanding of the purpose and meaning of Holy Scripture.

This fact comes into particular focus when one considers that before it was written down as Sacred Scripture, the Word of God was first transmitted orally within the assembly of Israel and the liturgical-sacramental life of the early church. Luther frequently observed that the Word of God was written down only so that it might be preserved and therefore orally proclaimed with greater certainty.[3] Even if one ignores the role that Holy Scripture possesses in the Word and Sacrament ministry of the church, it should be noted that in the ancient world all written texts were intended for oral performance insofar as reading was almost never done silently.[4] Therefore, as an ancient text, Scripture is by definition meant for oral proclamation.

Jesus authorized the apostles as His infallible witnesses (and therefore as the infallible authors of Scripture) simultaneous with His authorization of the Word and sacraments of the church (Mt 28:19–20; Lk 10:16; Jn 16:13; Acts 1:8). This correspondence suggests that the authority of Holy Scripture and the authoritative ministry of the church are not separable but function properly only when understood in the light of one another. Some might object that the commissions cited above are authorizations merely of the preaching of the Word, not of the writing of the New Testament itself.[5] This is an incorrect interpretation for a number of reasons.


[1] Johann Baier, Compendium Theologiae Positivae, ed. C. F. W. Walther, 3 vols. (Grand Rapids: Emmanuel Press, 2005–2006), 1:117–18; Gerhard, On the Nature of Theology and Scripture, 333.

[2] Preus, Inspiration of Scripture, 170; cited from Webster, Holy Scripture, 40.

[3] First Sunday in Advent (WA 10/1:2.48). “The church is a mouth-house, not a pen-house.” Cited from Mark Thompson, A Sure Ground on Which to Stand: The Relation of Authority and Interpretive Method of Luther’s Approach to Scripture (Carlisle, UK: Paternoster Press, 2004), 75.

[4] Ben Witherington III, New Testament Rhetoric: An Introductory Guide to the Art of Persuasion in and of the New Testament (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2009), 1–2, 90.

[5] Robert Bellarmine and many early modern Roman Catholic apologists made this argument. See Gerhard, On the Nature of Theology, 51–58. See a modern objection along the same lines in James Barr, Holy Scripture: Canon, Authority, and Criticism (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1983), 12.

From Jack D. Kilcrease, Holy Scripture, Confessional Lutheran Dogmatics, Gifford A. Grobien, ed. (Fort Wayne, IN: The Luther Academy, 2020), 89-90.

Justification by the Word

In spite of this historic division between Roman Catholics and Protestants on the question of justification, there has been an unanimity of focus in both groups on the subjective reception of the righteousness of God.  That is to say, both Roman Catholics and Protestants have historically tended to center their theologies of justification on what steps individuals must take to appropriate the merit of Christ.  Catholics have debated amongst themselves the necessity or lack of necessity of a certain disposition to divine grace as much as Protestants have debated free will and the signs of authentic conversion.1  Within the Protestant tradition, these debates are rather ironic in light of the Magisterial Reformation’s emphasis on the externality and unconditionality of grace. 

Particularly with regard to the historic Protestant tradition, this point has been made forcefully by Philip Cary in his essay: “Why Luther is not quite Protestant: The Logic of Faith in a Sacramental Promise.”2  When dealing with justification in the theology of Luther and comparing to the subsequent Protestantism, Cary observes that most Protestants have focus on the reality of faith.  In this, faith and its authenticity are considered the decisive factor.  This gives rise to the soteriological syllogism that Cary outlines thus: “Major Premise:  Whoever believes in Christ is saved.  Minor Premise:  I believe in Christ. Conclusion: I am saved.”3  Of course, the raises the problem of how one knows that they have authentic faith.  Many Protestants have therefore been fixated on discovering secondary signs that confirm the authenticity of faith: a particular kind of conversion experience, good works, wealth, personal holiness or spiritual gifts, and perhaps even snake handling!

When turning to Luther’s theology, Cary observes that the focus shifts from the authenticity of faith to the authenticity of God’s promise made concrete and tangible in the means of grace.  Thus, Cary renders Luther’s soteriological syllogism thus: “Major premise:  Christ told me, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.” Minor premise:  Christ never lies but only tells the truth.  Conclusion: I am baptized (i.e., I have new life in Christ).”4

As Cary correctly observes, although both Luther and the larger Protestant tradition do certainly agree that one receives justification through faith, there is a subtle, yet highly significant difference between the two understandings of the righteousness of faith.  Whereas most Protestants hold that faith should be reflective regarding its own authenticity, Luther believes in what Cary characterizes as an “unreflective faith,” that is, a faith that does not focus on the question of its own authenticity.5

According to Cary, this unreflective faith is possible for Luther because of his belief in the sacramentality of the word.6  Here Cary echoes the work of the German Luther scholar Oswald Bayer, who claims that it was in fact the sacramentality of the word, and not justification by faith, that was central to the so-called Reformation breakthrough.7  The word of justification is objectified in both in preaching and the sacraments in such a way as to shift the focus from authentic appropriation of God’s grace to the question of the surety of God’s promise.  Since the risen Jesus is genuinely present in the means of grace, he is capable of mediating a direct assurance of his justifying grace for sinners who look for him there.  The tendency of believers to reflect upon and worry about their authenticity of their faith is seen by Luther as a sinful resistance to Jesus’ promise that they have already been accepted.  Therefore, instead of “justification through faith” it might be appropriate to characterize Luther’s position as “justification by the word.”


[1] Alister McGrath, Iustitia Dei: A History of the Christian Doctrine of Justification (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2020), 227-340.

[2] Philip Cary, “Why Luther is Not Quite Protestant: The Logic of Faith in a Sacramental Promise,” Pro Ecclesia 14, no. 4 (2005): 447-486.

[3] Ibid., 450.

[4] Ibid., 451.

[5] Ibid., 450-55.

[6] Ibid., 455-61.

[7]  Oswald Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology: A Contemporary Interpretation, trans. Thomas Trapp (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2008), 52-3.  idem, Promissio: Geschichte der reformatorischen Wende in Luthers Theologie (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1971), 240-1.

From the draft manuscript for Jack D. Kilcrease, Justification by Word (Lexham Press, forthcoming).