6 minute read
BOOK REVIEW
Massing, Michael. Fatal Discord: Erasmus, Luther and the Fight for the Modern Mind. New York: Harper Perennial, 2018.
There’s an old saying: “never judge a book by its cover.” But when you buy a book entitled Fatal Discord: Erasmus, Luther and the Fight for the Modern Mind, a tome that spans 987 pages, you would think you would be getting a comprehensive discussion of Erasmus and Luther’s free will debate – which would have, by the way, fit nicely with the theme of this issue of SIMUL. But you’d be wrong. I soon discovered that a mere twenty pages or so of Massing’s hefty work are devoted to their famous debate. And this is despite the fact that the free will/bound will debate itself is the “Fatal Discord” (Chapter 38 calls it the “Fatal Dissension”) the book references.
But throughout the work, Massing does touch on some of the major theological differences between Luther and Erasmus which drove the debate. For instance, Erasmus believed that the Bible was unclear at times, requiring the Church’s clarification, while Luther disagreed. He believed that God’s Word was obvious and self-evident; anyone could interpret it accurately. So the question was really who should be able to interpret scripture and participate in theological debates. Erasmus believed that discussions on God’s foreknowledge and election should be the purview of academics, since these kinds of discussions, aired publicly, might foment unrest. However, Luther had no problem discussing such matters in the daylight and in German (rather than the academic Latin). Luther wrote, “Truth and doctrine must be preached always, openly and constantly, and never accommodated or concealed.” To Luther, political unrest should be expected, since the world is always “shaken and shattered on account of the Word of God” (p. 673).
Massing also describes the disputants’ attitudes on where theology is best discussed. He writes, “For Erasmus, the ideal setting is a dinner party at which scholars amicably discuss Bible passages over capon and wine. For Luther, it is the pulpit, from which God’s unassailable Word is ardently proclaimed” (p. 675).
Massing also reveals that Luther’s and Erasmus’s arguments were based upon their differing anthropologies. Erasmus likened the human being to a fumbling child, dependent upon the gentle guidance of a loving father (God). Luther, on the other hand, compared man to a stubborn donkey, “who has no free choice, but is captive, subject and slave of either the will of God or the will of Satan” (p. 673). To Luther, man’s bound will was replete in scripture: i.e., God is the potter, we are the clay; Pharoah’s hardened heart; Judas’s necessary betrayal, etc., while Erasmus felt that the preponderance of Holy Writ indicated at least some level of free will on behalf of the believer.
But perhaps Massing’s most insightful take is on the disputants’ view of the nature of God himself. Massing writes, “Erasmus’s God is an even-tempered rationalist who sagely judges men and women by how they behave in the world. Luther’s God is an inscrutable being who acts according to his own unfathomable logic, apart from human understanding and expectation ...Whereas Erasmus wanted to protect the freedom of man to choose, Luther wanted to safeguard the freedom of God to act” (p. 675).
Now in graduate school, there is another saying: “only read books written by PhDs.” However, I have never ascribed to this kind of intellectual snootiness. Wonderful books on church history can be written by journalists, as Eric Metaxas’s Martin Luther (2018) amply demonstrates. But I believe that Fatal Discord, at least at times, falls into the category my professors warned me about. At the end of the book, Massing makes a number of claims designed to connect Erasmus’s and Luther’s theologies with present-day Christianity. This is the most disappointing section of the book. For example, Massing writes, “Under the related doctrine of ‘soul competency,’ the [Southern] Baptists affirm the ‘accountability of each person before God…it comes down to you and God.’ This is a plainspoken version of Luther’s doctrine of justification by faith alone” (p. 815). But this is in no way Luther’s doctrine – because Luther’s doctrine was all about God’s action, not ours. It never comes down to “us,” even partially.
Perhaps even more discouraging were his two concluding chapters, “Aftermath: Erasmus” and “Aftermath: Luther,” where Massing attempts to “suggest a pathway” of their influences into the future. Now there is a lot of ink spilled on this subject, but the thrust of his conclusion seems to be: Luther’s thinking created today’s evangelicals, while Erasmus’s reasoning resulted in today’s humanists. Perhaps Massing would have been somewhat closer in his conclusions if he made the case for Arminius’s influence on today’s evangelicals and Erasmus’s influence on Vatican II, but I’ve never thought that sweeping conclusions on any nuanced theological matters are ever that accurate, or even helpful.
Massing takes a parting shot at Lutherans on page 814. He writes, “Proportionately fewer Lutherans have served in Congress or the Cabinet than have Episcopalians, Presbyterians or Methodists; the highest office attained has been that of chief justice of the Supreme Court (William Rehnquist). This record reflects Luther’s own rejection of political engagement. All in all, the Lutherans are an inconspicuous presence in America.” Here Massing confuses the two kingdoms theology with a rejection of political engagement. Luther never dissuaded laypeople from public service. As to his assertion that Lutherans are an “inconspicuous presence” in American society, I thought...what about Tim Walz? Oh well, I guess the truth hurts, and that’s something not even Rick Steves can guide us out of.
Having said all this one might think I am panning this book. I am not, in fact I urge everyone to read it. Not for its conclusions mind you, but rather for its detail. Massing has researched this book meticulously and provided much of the juicy nuggets one might expect from a journalist, which he of course is. This might serve as a nice supplementary text for a Reformation or early modern church history class. I feel that after having read the book I have a much better perspective on the personalities of both Luther and Erasmus.
One such nugget Massing includes is when famed humanist Ulrich von Hutten, a sick and desperate friend of Erasmus’s (on the run from the papacy), was refused an audience with him in Basel, probably out of Erasmus’ fear of being associated with an outlaw. Crushed, von Hutten picked up his pen, and wrote a scathing expose on his old friend. In it, von Hutten zeroes in on what I have often felt was Erasmus’ fatal flaw: fear. Von Hutten writes that there is “a certain cowardice inherent in your [Erasmus’] character,” a “timidity which causes you to at the slightest provocation to fear the worst and thus despair” (p. 586). These kinds of untold personal stories: including the persecution of Protestants by Thomas More, Erasmus’ last days in Freiburg, and many others, make Fatal Discord a fast-paced, informative, and enjoyable read for any church history buff.
Rev. Dr. Dennis R. Di Mauro is Pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church, Warrenton, Virginia (NALC), and the editor of SIMUL.
