Luther vs Augustine on Love

Since the self is properly oriented in its relationship with God by faith as trust, Luther now redirects love to the task of correctly orienting the external person in the earthly sphere.  This represents a total inversion of the Augustinian doctrine of love.  For the Bishop of Hippo, the love of earthly things functions as distractions from the love of God.  Indeed, in spite of being a biblical theme, at this stage of his development Luther seems uncomfortable about even talking about the love of God. Later in the Catechism, he again returned to the formula of “We should fear and love God, etc.,” and lost his aversion to talk of the love of God.  Nevertheless, in Freedom of a Christian, Luther consistently argues that love’s proper orientation is in fact an earthly object, namely the neighbor: “This is truly Christian life.  Here faith is truly active in love [Gal. 5:6], that is, it finds expression in works of freest service, cheerfully done, with which a man willing serves another [i.e. the neighbor] without hope of reward . . . “[1]   

Hence, the creative Word of God brings about a faith which orients believers toward God in Christ, whereas love is primarily directed toward the neighbor: “We conclude, therefore, that a Christian lives not in himself, but in Christ and the neighbor.  He lives in Christ through faith, and in his neighbor through love.”[2]  Whereas the person under the power of sin and self-justification stood curved in on himself (incurvatus in se), now the believer lives a life externalized in the other: first in Christ through faith, then through the neighbor in love.[3]  In this, the self becomes radically decentered in the form of ecstatic existence (raptus, exstasis).  In this, Luther borrows yet another theme from the mystical tradition,[4] yet remolds it around the biblical themes of faith in God and the love of the neighbor.


[1] LW 31:365.  Emphasis added.

[2] LW 31:371.  Emphasis added.

[3] See good description of Luther’s position here in George Wolfgang Forell, Faith Active in Love: An Investigation into the Principles Underlying Luther’s Social Ethics (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 1999).

[4] See Karl-Heinz zur Mühlen, Nos extra nos: Luthers Theologie zwischen Mystik und Scholastik (Tübingen: Mohr, 1972).


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

Luther on Predestination

Although Luther comments on predestination somewhat infrequently, there is a clear doctrine of predestination in Luther derived from his engagement with Paul and Augustine.[1]  Nevertheless, unlike Augustine, election is described as being something that God executes in and through the preaching of the promise in Christ.  In a passage in “A Sermon on Preparing for Dying” (1519) Luther writes:

“Therefore fix your eyes upon the heavenly picture of Christ, who for your sake went to hell and was rejected by God as one damned to the eternal perdition, as He cried on the cross, ‘Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?  My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me?’  Behold, in that picture your hell is overcome and your election assured, so that if you but take care and believe that it happened for you, you will certainly be saved in that faith.”[2]

Here it should be noted that much like the word of absolution sacramentally contains within itself the coming of God’s justification of sinner, so too God’s eternal judgment of predestination supervenes on the word of the cross.  Unlike in Augustine, there is not gap between God’s eternal, hidden, predestinating will, and the word of the preacher.  To apprehend in faith the word of promise that God has attached to Christ’s death and resurrection is to be assured of God’s eternal election of the believer.

In 1531, Luther offered similar counsel to Barbara Lisskirchen (formerly Weller), a woman who wrote the Reformer due to her deep anxiety about the question of her predestination.  Luther writes in a response letter:

“[T]he highest of all God’s commands is this, that hold up before our eyes the image of his dear Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.  Every day he should be our excellent mirror of how much God loves us and how well, in his infinite goodness, he has cared for us in that he gave his dear son for us.  In this way I say, and in no other, does one learn to properly deal with the question of predestination.  It will be manifest to you that you believe in Christ.  If you believe then you are called.  And if you are called you are most certainly predestinated.  Do not let this mirror and throne of grace be torn away from your eyes.  If such thoughts still come and bite like fiery serpents, pay no attention to the thoughts or serpents.  Turn away from these notions and contemplate the brazen serpent, that is, Christ given for us.”[3]

The key point to notice in this passage is not only that God’s eternal election is embodied in Christ crucified and received by faith in him, but that the faith that apprehends Christ is what Philip Cary calls “unreflective faith,”[4] that is, a faith that does not worry about its own authenticity.  Likewise, as Randall Zachman helpful summarizes: “[For Luther] faith means believing with certainty that God’s Word is true even when the whole world, the heart of the believer, and even God himself contradict the truth that is revealed in the word, particularly the word of promise.”[5]  Faith therefore looks outside of itself (extra nos) to Christ himself and his word of promise.  Again, to look away from Christ would be to return to self-trust and self-incurvature, the very definition of sin.  Throughout the letter, Luther emphasizes that all questioning of one’s election and justification are satanic temptations.  Faith accepts God’s trustworthiness in his word as absolute reality and rejects the unreality of unbelief. 


[1] See: Fredrik Brosché, Luther on Predestination: The Antinomy and the Unity Between Love and Wrath in Luther’s Concept of God (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell international, 1978).

[2] LW 42:105-6.  Emphasis added.

[3] Martin Luther, Luther: Letters of Spiritual Counsel, trans. Theodore Tappert (Vancouver, BC: Regent College Press, 2003), 116.  Emphasis added.  See lengthier argument in Luther’s Genesis commentary along the same lines: LW 5:43-50.

[4] Philip Cary, “Why Luther is Not Quite Protestant: The Logic of Faith in a Sacramental Promise,” Pro Ecclesia 14, no. 4 (2005): 450-55.

[5] Randall Zachman, The Assurance of Faith: Conscience in the Theology of Martin Luther and John Calvin (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 2005), 9.


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

Homologoumena and Antilegomena

Historically, Lutherans have made a distinction within the canonical books of the New Testament between the homologoumena and antilegomena. As noted above, the distinction refers to the division between the books of the New Testament that were affirmed unanimously by the witness of the early church as being written by the apostles, and those that were not thus affirmed. Among the first class (homologoumena) are reckoned the Gospels, Acts, Paul’s letters, 1 Peter, and 1 John. Among the second class (antilegomena) are reckoned Hebrews, James, 2 Peter, 2 and 3 John, Jude, and Revelation.[1]

It is important to recognize that for Lutherans the antilegomena does not relate to the undisputed books of the New Testament in the manner that the Apocrypha relates to the Old Testament proper. Whereas the Apocrypha is not considered the Word of God because it was not authorized as such by Christ, the antilegomena may be apostolic in origin, but that origin is disputed….


Throughout our discussion we have consistently emphasized the centrality of Christ’s promise of inspiration to the prophets and apostles. Belief in inspiration is therefore derivative of our faith in Christ and His historical reality, mediated to us by the power of the Spirit as active in the Word and Sacrament ministry of the church.[2] For this reason we should not abandon the distinction between the antilegomena and the homologoumena. The canon of Scripture must be grounded in the actual authorship (or at least authorization) of a prophet or apostle, because Christ has attached His promise of inspiration to them alone.

Our approach to discerning the canon is thus quite different from that of the Reformed and Roman Catholic traditions, both of which tend to distance the work of the Spirit from the external Word, albeit in different ways. In the Reformed tradition the canon is established mainly on the basis of the subjective reality of the inner testimony of the Spirit.[3] Catholicism holds that the Spirit- guided (Roman Catholic) Church can establish the canon by fiat. Both assume that the Spirit makes the canon discernible not through the objective historical promise of Christ but through the interior work of the Spirit. Both represent Enthusiasm, albeit in different forms: one individualist (Reformed) and the other authoritarian (Catholicism). In contrast to all this, the historic Lutheran approach insists upon the unity of the Word and the Spirit, that is, the objective principle (apostolicity and the historical promise of Christ) with the subjective principle (the inner testimony of the Spirit).

For this reason, to the extent that certain texts are of mixed attestation or face other credible challenges to their apostolic origin, we cannot treat them as possessing the status of primary canonicity. Of course this does not mean that our judgment on this issue must remain static. Indeed, over time our judgment may change in the light of the evidence….


Nevertheless, even if the authorship of the antilegomena is historically ambiguous, as Gerhard properly notes, it does not mean that the divinity of the content itself is ambiguous. That is to say, even if the antilegomena possesses mixed attestation regarding authorship, we may still recognize its content as being the Word of God in the light of its agreement with the apostolic content of the homologoumena. As we saw in an earlier chapter, when the church preaches in accordance with the teachings of the prophets and apostles, that too is a proper form of the Word of God. So the antilegomena may be understood at minimum as the proclaimed Word of God even if there is some ambiguity as to whether or not it is the directly inspired Word of God.

Ultimately, though, the antilegomena must remain distinct from the homologoumena. To establish doctrine we must look to the fountain of truth (that is, the inspired books of the Bible themselves) and only secondarily to the stream (subsequent preaching of the church). As in a stream of water, the stream of doctrine may become mixed together with muck while the fountain remains pure and clear. For this reason we also stand in moderate agreement with Chemnitz. While not totally rejecting the canonicity of the antilegomena, we affirm the interpretative primacy of the sedes doctrinae found in the homologoumena.[4] This rule is a logical outgrowth of the primacy of the apostles and their infallible witness over that of the post-apostolic church. Hence, just as the New Testament clarifies the meaning of the Old, the homologoumena should be seen as possessing the ability to clarify the content of the antilegomena.


[1] Lee Martin McDonald, The Biblical Canon: Its Origin, Transmission, and Authority (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2011), 308–10.

[2] John Warwick Montgomery writes: “Note that we do not argue that the Bible must be divine revelation because it is inerrant; we argue, rather, that it must be a divine revelation because Jesus, who proves himself to be God, declares that it is such—and he regarded it as inerrant.” Montgomery, Tracatus Logico-Theologicus, 146.

[3] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion 1.7.1 and 1.7.4, in Calvin: The Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. and ed. John T. McNeill and Ford Lewis Battles, 2 vols. (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1967), 1:74–75, 78–80; Heppe, Reformed Dogmatics, 25–26.

[4] Chemnitz, Examination of the Council of Trent 1:189.


From Jack D. Kilcrease, Holy Scripture, Confessional Lutheran Dogmatics, Gifford A. Grobien, ed. (Fort Wayne, IN: The Luther Academy, 2020), 174-175, 179-180, 180-181.

Did the Apostles Establish the New Testament Canon?

At the core of the apostolic testimony found in the New Testament are the four Gospels. The Gospels are central to the apostolic testimony, not only because they give a direct witness to the reality of God’s salvation manifest in Jesus but also because, as Moses authorized subsequent prophecy in Israel in Deuteronomy, Jesus in the Gospels authorizes the infallibility of apostolic witness.

The Gospels were written by at least two apostles (John and Matthew) and two persons authorized by the apostles (Mark by Peter, Luke by Paul). They therefore bear the stamp of the risen Christ’s authority. Although liberal scholars have questioned the reliability of the four Gospels and their authorship, there are many good arguments in favor of both their reliability and their traditional authorship….


Overall this evidence suggests that there was an early, very strong, and geographically diffuse consensus in the early church that the four canonical Gospels were indeed Scripture and that they were handed down from the apostles….


Finally, beyond the external evidence of the traditional authorship, there is evidence within the Gospels themselves. Richard Bauckham has shown that the Gospels bear literary features that suggest the authors were themselves eyewitnesses or had access to eyewitness testimony….


As should be clear from this discussion, the claims to apostolic origins made by the New Testament documents are extremely credible and grounded in objective historical fact. From this it is assured that they possess the infallibility Christ promised the apostolic witness and therefore legitimately belong to the canon. But it is also possible to go beyond the argument for mere apostolic authorship of each individual. Below we will argue that a case can be made that at least certain blocks of canonical materials, if not the whole canonical list itself, were recognized and authorized during the apostolic period. If valid, this argument would suggest that the canonical decisions of the fourth century were correct not simply because they accurately ascertained the apostolic source of each writing. Rather, their canonical lists grew organically out of the implied or explicit decisions the apostles themselves made about their own writings and their apostolic co-witnesses in the faith.


From Jack D. Kilcrease, Holy Scripture, Confessional Lutheran Dogmatics, Gifford A. Grobien, ed. (Fort Wayne, IN: The Luther Academy, 2020), 160, 162, 165, 171-172.

Luther and the Saving Righteousness of Christ in the Objective Sacramental Word

Standing on the shoulders of Augustine and his first reformation of the doctrine of grace, Martin Luther sought to bring the Church of the sixteenth century back to the biblical doctrine of justification.  Central to Luther’s Reformation theology was his resolution of the Augustinian Dilemma through the concept of the sacramentality of the word.  In this regard, our thesis stands contrary to popular belief that Luther’s central project was the doctrine of justification by faith.  Faith is of course of central importance to Luther, but faith is only meaningful insofar as it relies on a word from God that sacramentally gives the reality that faith receives.  For this reason, the emphasis in Luther is less on the subjective act of belief and more on the reality of God’s saving righteousness in Christ. Christ’s righteousness creates and bestows the objective reality of which it speaks through the word and sacrament ministry of the Church.  Luther’s belief in justification by the word transcends the Augustinian conception of the word as merely a form of signification, a concept which drives most Catholic and Protestant theologies of justification down to the present.


On the surface Luther’s belief that faith in the promise is central to the efficacy of the sacrament might appear subjectivistic.  It might be argued that this confines the work of God to the human choice to believe.  This is a charge that has been frequently made against Luther by Roman Catholic apologists.[1]  Nevertheless, such an interpretation would be incorrect.  As we will see below, Luther holds that because the risen Jesus himself speaks through the means grace in the power of the Holy Spirit, the sacrament carriers within itself the ability to create and sustain the faith that receives it. For this reason, it would be more proper to say that Jesus’ historically objective word and its divine power constitute both the validity and efficacy of the sacrament.[2]  As will later be observed, it is Jesus’ word of promise that trumps all things, including subjective human psychological states, or the discernment of contrition by a priest.


Absolution is a divine efficacious word (Thettel-Wort) and is not a mere piece of information (Heissel-Wort).[3]  The word that the priest speaks is a sacramental instrument wherein God is present and communicates his grace: “This is why it [confession and absolution] is called a sacrament, a holy sign, because in it one hears the words externally that signify spiritual gifts within, gifts by which the heart is comforted and set at peace.”[4]  Since the heart is only set at peace by the divine grace present in the objective word, it follows that the word is itself the divine instrument that creates faith in the heart.  As suggested earlier, the logical implication of this is that validity of the sacrament and the efficacy are all contained in the Word of God itself.[5]   

As a result of this understanding of absolution, Augustine’s concept of res and signum in a sacrament is significantly modified.  Although there is still a distinction between the visible sign and the invisible grace, the signum (the word of absolution) does not somehow point beyond itself to the invisible res (the work of the Holy Spirit).  Rather, the res is present and communicated through the outward signum (i.e., word).  When faith appropriates the word, it appropriates divine grace and forgiveness itself.  As Bayer observes:

“That the signum itself is already the res, that the linguistic sign is already the matter itself – that was Luther’s great hermeneutical discovery, his reformational discovery in the strictest sense. . . Since the sign is itself already the thing it declares, this means, with reference to absolution, that the statement “I absolve you of your sins!” is not a judgement, which merely establishes that something is true already . . . Instead, in this instance, a speech act actually constitutes a reality.”[6]

The faith that appropriates the promise is not an autonomous action of the human person, but rather a product of divine grace.  Faith is not an independent factor that transmutes absolution as a possibility into an actuality.  Rather, the absolution is an objective and fully actualized reality that faith can receive: “Christ, your God, will not lie to you, nor will he waver; neither will the devil overturn his words for him.  If you build upon them with a firm faith, you will be standing on the rock against which the gates and all the powers of hell cannot prevail.”[7]  In other words, faith does not make the word a reality any more than a house that is built on a rock is secure because of the act of building.  The house built on a rock is foundationally secure because of what it is built on (Mt. 7:24-7).

Luther’s emphasis on the objectivity of the Word of God can be especially seen in how he deals with the reality of unbelief: “By such disbelief [in the word of grace] you make God to be a liar when, through his priest, he says to you, “You are loosed from your sins,” and you retort, ‘I don’t believe it,’ or, ‘I doubt it.”[8]  If the absolution became true by believing it, then Luther would not accuse the unbeliever of making God a liar.  If the believer makes absolution occur by his faith, then unbelief would prevent the word of absolution from becoming a true word.  As a consequence, God would not be insulted as a liar, since without faith no absolution would take place.  What Luther claims instead is that although unbelief blocks divine grace and forgiveness from being received, faith does not actualize absolution as a reality.  To borrow a term from Gerhard Ebeling,[9] the “word-event” (Wortgeschehen) of the giving of absolution exists prior to faith and determines its reality.  Grace and forgiveness are already actualized in the word-event of absolution, faith merely receives and participates in them.


[1] See Paul Hacker, Das Ich im Glauben bei Martin Luther (Graz: Styria Verlag, 1966).

[2] Robert Kolb and Charles Arand, The Genius of Luther’s Theology: A Wittenberg Way of Thinking for the Contemporary Church (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2008), 135-43.

[3] LW 37:180-88. See David Steinmetz, “Luther and the Two Kingdoms,” in Luther in Context (Bloomington: University of Indiana Press, 1986), 115.

[4] LW 35:11.

[5] Kolb and Arand, The Genius of Luther’s Theology, 176-88.

[6] Bayer, Martin Luther’s Theology, 52-3.

[7] LW 35:12.

[8] LW 35:13-4.  Emphasis added.

[9] Gerhard Ebeling, Word and Faith, trans. James Leitch (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1963), 325-32.


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