Editor’s note: This article was originally published on October 31, 2017 and is part five of a five-part series. 2023 marks the 506th anniversary.

2017 is a special year, marking the 500 year anniversary of a world-changing event: the start of the Protestant Reformation. It’s really not fair to mark one point alone for this revolution of faith and practice in Europe and the world because it was the product of forces that developed over many decades.

But Martin Luther’s October 31, 1517, declaration of 95 complaints against the practice of selling reductions to the penalty of sin is a pretty good place to say, “Here it started.”

The great men of the Reformation—Martin Luther, Ulrich Zwingli, John Calvin and those associated with them—declared their beliefs in a series of solas (in Latin, one would say the plural as solae). Sola means “alone” or “single.” We get our words “solo” and “solitary” from this Latin root. The classic sola statements of the Reformation were and are:

Sola Scriptura (Scripture Alone)
Sola Fide (Faith Alone)
Sola Gratia (Grace Alone)
Solus Christus (Christ Alone)
Soli Deo Gloria (Glory to God Alone)

In this article we want to consider the final aspect: Glory to God Alone.

Overview of the Previous Four Solas

In most lists of the five solas, this comes last for a good reason. It’s because it’s the logical result of the previous four solas. If we properly understand the first four sola statements, they will lead us to the final statement, “giving glory to God alone.”

If we let scripture alone be our guide, we listen to God’s voice above all others. We understand that what God says matters more than anyone or anything else. This gives God the glory He alone deserves, as the heart, voice, and mind that should be regarded above all others.

If we let faith alone be our reception of God’s rescue, we understand that we don’t deserve any credit for what God does for us. We simply receive by faith what He so generously gave to us. This gives God the glory because we understand that we can’t save ourselves; Jesus must rescue us.

If we let grace alone be the grounds on which God rescued us through the person and work of Jesus, we understand that it’s not by grace and faith, not by grace and good deeds, not by grace and a good heart and not by grace and human initiative. It’s by grace alone. This gives God the glory because He alone gets the credit for the past, present, and future of our salvation.

If we let Christ alone be our salvation and center of life, it means that it isn’t through a mere man or institution that we’re made right with God. It’s by the person and work of Jesus Christ alone. This gives God the glory because it properly puts the focus on Jesus and takes it off everyone and everything else.

Putting the Focus on God and His Glory

In this we see that one of the great works of the Reformation was to once again put the focus on God and His glory.

Because we are made in the image of God, we’re capable of astonishing achievements of many kinds. We see what men and women can accomplish in art, science, engineering, athletics, and intellect and so easily put our emphasis on man instead of God. Yet, mankind at his best and greatest is still far short of God. He alone deserves the glory and honor that the first four sola statements illustrate.

This leads us to a practical point. We should resolve that, God helping us, we will give greater interest, care, and effort to advance the glory of God instead of the glory of self, of our congregation, or of our particular group in God’s greater family. As many men and women of God have warned, “don’t touch the glory”; let the honor and credit go to God and no one else.

Everyone should have this sentence over their life and work for God: Glory to God Alone.

Editor’s note: This article was originally published on October 26, 2017 and is part four of a five-part series.

On October 31, 1517, the German monk, pastor and seminary professor, Martin Luther, published 95 complaints against the church practice of selling reductions to the penalty of sin. The iconic figure we cherish is of Luther nailing a paper with these 95 Theses to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, but historians aren’t completely confident that he did this.

We have no record of Martin Luther himself referring to the event.

Whether or not he actually nailed that paper to the church door, he certainly wrote it, sent it to some important leaders, and it was soon published and distributed widely across Germany and much of Europe.

There were many complaints against, and objections to, the theology and practice of the Roman Catholic Church in those days, but Luther’s complaint had an effect like none before it.

There were many reasons for that, but one important reason was because Luther put his finger on a point of great corruption: the practice of selling indulgences.

The Practice of Selling Indulgences

As mentioned before, the selling of indulgences was essentially giving something to the church (usually money) so the church (through its leader, the pope) would reduce the penalty one had to pay for their sins in purgatory. I strongly object to the idea of purgatory altogether and can’t find it anywhere in the Bible. But in the Roman Catholic idea, purgatory is the place where after death a person is cleansed from their spiritual and moral impurities by painful fires before they can be admitted into heaven.

What is more, in classic Roman Catholic thinking, the pope has the authority to release tormented souls enduring the cleansing fires of purgatory. In Martin Luther’s time slick, high-pressure salesmen sold these releases from purgatory. They promised people that for a generous donation to the church, the pope would grant them or a loved one release from some or all of purgatory’s fire.

Near where Martin Luther lived, there was a Dominican monk named Johann Tetzell, a successful salesman for indulgences. Tetzell’s slogan was, “As soon as the money in the basket rings, the soul from purgatory springs.” Tetzell used to say, “Listen to the voices of your dear dead relatives and friends, beseeching you and saying, ‘Pity us, pity us. We are in dire torment from which you can redeem us for a pittance.’ Do you not wish to?” Tetzell raised a lot of money for the church by selling these indulgences.

Luther’s protest against indulgences developed into the movement we know as the Protestant Reformation.

The ideas of the Reformation are often summarized in a series of statements called the five solas:

Sola Scriptura (Scripture Alone)
Sola Fide (Faith Alone)
Sola Gratia (Grace Alone)
Solus Christus (Christ Alone)
Soli Deo Gloria (Glory to God Alone)

The first three solas were discussed in previous articles, and this short piece looks at the fourth of the list: Solus Christus. That idea of Christ Alone is vitally connected to the original protest Martin Luther made on October 31, 1517.

The Fundamental Problem With Indulgences

As the ideas of the Reformation matured and deepened, it was understood that one of the fundamental problems with the whole idea of indulgences was that it put humanity’s rescue into the hands of the pope. The idea was something like this: “Men and women are not saved by Jesus, but through the pope and the institution of the Roman Catholic Church.”

Against this wrong and dangerous idea, it’s important that we emphasize the truth: Christ Alone. At the end of it all, we are not saved by a mere man, whether that be a pope or a pastor. We aren’t saved by an institution, whether it be Catholic or Protestant. We aren’t saved by our own good works or even our good faith. We are rescued by Christ alone and He alone gets the honor, glory and credit for rescuing us from sin and self. It’s true that what He gives by grace must be received by faith, but the work is done by His giving, not our receiving.

The principle of Christ Alone should remind us that Jesus is always the center of the Christian life. As the New Testament says, in Him we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28). The core of the Christian life is Jesus Christ, and Christ alone.

Believe it or not, October 31 is more than just an opportunity to dress up as a character from Squid Game, or to eat so much candy you never want to see a Snickers again (at least for a few more days anyway). It is the opportunity to reflect on a much more significant occasion… Reformation Day!

For those who might not be too familiar with church history, it was on October 31, 1517, that the great church reformer, Martin Luther, nailed his famous Ninety-Five Theses to the door of the Wittenberg church in Germany. This event came to be seen as a watershed moment for the emergence of what would later be called “Protestantism.”

At the time, Luther intended to ignite a much-needed debate within the church of Rome. He had hoped this would lead to the inward reform of the church in both doctrine and practice. And while Luther was certainly a flawed human being (especially by modern standards), it does not seem to be the case that he was a schismatic bent on dividing the church. And in fact, some prominent Catholics, such as Erasmus of Rotterdam, were in substantial agreement with a number of Luther’s critiques. Nevertheless, history tells us that things didn’t quite work out as he had planned. And, over time, a mass movement emerged, aided by the recent invention of the printing press.

One cannot underestimate the significance the Reformation had for reshaping the cultural landscape of Europe. European countries began breaking away from the Roman church and established their own variations of what came to be known later as “Protestant” churches. And of course, it was members of Protestant churches who first set sail for the New World. And so quite uniquely, the United States was not simply a nation influenced by Christianity in a generic sense, but was uniquely marked from its inception by a Protestant ethos.

So, in light of Reformation Day, I’d like to offer three things we can learn from the Reformation in retrospect:

1. WE MUST ALWAYS KEEP THE BIBLICAL GOSPEL AT THE CENTER OF THE CHURCH.

While I personally lament the rampant divisions so often seen in the church today (a sentiment grounded in Scripture, see 1 Corinthians 1:10-17; 3:1-4), there are in fact times when it is necessary to make hard decisions to separate ourselves from “professing” Christians who in fact deny the Gospel.

While Luther had numerous complaints against the Catholic church, at the heart of the matter was the concern about how, and in what way, sinners were made right with God. This was no secondary issue. And I believe what Luther was defending was the very doctrine of the Apostle Paul who taught, “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9).

Though it is true that the newly developed Protestant churches each held various distinctives, they were united by, what one of my professors has called, “mere Protestant Christianity.”¹ In other words, there was a historical, Protestant core that positively set forth the essence of the Gospel. These have also been referred to as the five solas (“Scripture alone,” “Faith alone,” “Grace alone,” “Christ alone,” “to the Glory of God alone”). And I believe it is urgent that we reclaim and celebrate these core beliefs lest our churches be washed out to sea by the seeker-friendly tide.

Moreover, if we do not keep the Gospel at the center of our churches, then something else will take its place. And when the Gospel is de-centered, Christians will more easily join the ranks of other social groups who also don’t have the Gospel as their center. And worse still, many more may sever their ties from genuine Christians with whom they disagree on non-Gospel issues.

But Protestantism should not be an excuse to divide over foolish things, but a clarion call to remain steadfast in the essential things.

2. WE SHOULD RENEW OUR COMMITMENT TO THE LOCAL CHURCH.

Reformation Day reminds us that we wouldn’t be where we are today, if it weren’t for those who long ago fully committed their lives for the spread of the Gospel through the church.

While COVID and the many issues related to it have certainly complicated and challenged local church ministry in numerous ways, yet God’s plan to form disciples in the image of Christ through the church has not changed. But what would it look like for us to renew our commitment to the local church at this particular moment?

For obvious reasons, physical attendance in church was highlighted over the past year and a half. But what about the vital areas of giving and serving? If we are truly committed to the flourishing of the local church, then we must not mislead people into believing that being a church member is reducible to “parking your carcass” (as my high school math teacher would say) in an auditorium once a week.

The word “fellowship” in Greek κοινωνίᾳ refers to “joint participation in a shared pursuit.” It means to be equally invested in something. Think of The Lord of the Rings for a moment. The Fellowship of the Ring didn’t mean Gandalf, Gimli, Legolas, and others sat around and clapped while Frodo went into Mordor by himself. Fellowship meant they gave and served, not merely attended.

Perhaps renewal today would result in a paradigm shift in which churchgoers ask, if I may paraphrase the late President John F. Kennedy, “Ask not what your church can do for you, ask what you can do for your church.”

3. WE SHOULD CULTIVATE A GREATER SENSE OF APPRECIATION FOR CHRISTIAN HISTORY.

As American Christians, it is easy to forget that at one time it was a foregone conclusion that if you lived in the West, and you were a Christian, you could only be a Roman Catholic. At one time, you could not own a Bible or read it in your own language. And there was a time when an individual could not worship according to their conscience, but rather, the forms of worship would be legally prescribed by a state-controlled church for all.

Forgetting the past is the surest way to repeat its errors. I pray our churches would all do a better job of cultivating awareness of, and practicing gratitude for, all those brothers and sisters who have gone before us and made our understanding of the Gospel possible.

So, wherever you are this October 31, take a moment and thank the Lord both that we have had the Gospel of grace preached to us, and for the faithful saints of old who have made our religious freedom possible. And let us also consider what we can do to show our love for Christ by solidifying our commitment to His church today.

_{Article Updated: Originally published on October 31, 2019}

_Notes:

_{¹ Kevin J. Vanhoozer, Biblical Authority After Babel: Retrieving the Solas in the Spirit of Mere Protestant Christianity. Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2016.}

Have you ever noticed that our society celebrates everything? In September alone, we celebrated “Random Acts of Poetry Day” (September 6), “Video Games Day” (September 12), “White Chocolate Day” (September 22), “Punctuation Day” (September 24), and every parent’s favorite—”Quiet Day” (September 12). Somehow my kids missed that last one.

But October 31–what many people celebrate as Halloween–should be remembered by Protestant Christians as the day we celebrate a huge moment–when a monumental change occurred in the Church.

We call it “Reformation Day“–because on that day, 503 years ago, a German monk, pastor, and seminary professor named Martin Luther published 95 complaints against the Catholic Church practice of selling reductions to the penalty of sin (called indulgences). In a sense, Luther had the boldness to share what the Church should and shouldn’t be.

What Was Wrong

Imagine coming to church, but you don’t learn to lean on the Bible and base your life accordingly. Instead, you had to rely on tradition and opinion and simply follow all the rules someone made up.

Imagine coming to church and never hearing the Gospel preached. Ever.

Imagine coming to church and being able to buy forgiveness. Literally.

Imagine coming to church where getting kicked out meant that you were going to hell. There was no salvation at that point—just the expectation of condemnation.

Imagine coming to church where the leader was also a political ruler who was incredibly corrupt–so that all the church was doing was done to facilitate its main purpose, to generate money, and was wicked to the core.

Such was the Catholic Church’s health when Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the church door in Wittenberg.

Martin Luther wasn’t the only one who felt appalled by the condition of the Church. Many others were concerned with where the Church had gone, desiring to come back to a place that honored God and return to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Five Big Ideas

The Reformers believed differently than the Catholic Church. They distilled their core beliefs into what we call the “Five Solas.”

Imagine being asked to sum up your identity in five words. It sounds relatively easy–but try doing it. What if you had to distill your LinkedIn profile down to merely five identity descriptors—what words would you eliminate? How would you adjust your Instagram or Facebook profile, your Match or eHarmony profile (no, I’m not judging), or your Tinder profile? (Ok, now I’m judging ; ) What five words would best characterize you? Imagine having to do that same exercise, but not summing up yourself: imaging summing up all of orthodox Christianity using only five identity words. That’s precisely what the Reformers did when they sought to distinguish themselves from Catholicism.

What are the foundations of the Gospel? What would be the pillars that uphold it?

The Reformers wrestled with this question, in large part, because at the time, the Church was broken. Whatever your thoughts are about it, the Catholic Church was a mess at best, or absolute apostasy and a brainchild of Lucifer at worst. The Catholic Church had departed from the foundations of the faith, believing many things outside the scope of Scripture. They held Church tradition on par with the Bible. They taught that other mediators could forgive sin. They had a different take on how one is justified–made right–with God. The church itself was the dispenser of divine favor–so if you found yourself politically outside of the church for any reason, you were excluded from the divine favor of God.

Enter the Reformers

The Reformers wanted to get back to the basics: back to the pillars of the faith. Thus, we have their Five Solas of the Reformation. “Sola,” of course, means “only.” The idea is that we need these alone for the basics, the pillars, the foundation, of the Gospel.

Christ | Scriptures | Grace | Faith | Glory of God

The message of the Protestant Reformation was that our faith is in Christ alone, revealed through the Scriptures alone, by grace alone, through faith alone, to the glory of God alone.

Think about these statements for a moment.

Christ: the only mediator. Scriptures: the only message. Grace: the only means. Faith: the only method. The glory of God: the greatest meaning.

Let’s consider the Five Solas for a moment:

Christ Alone: Jesus is the only mediator. Because Jesus is the sole meditator between God and man, salvation is possible only by His atoning death and triumphant resurrection. Jesus Christ is not only necessary for salvation but sufficient to save to the uttermost. That means that no amount of human works or merit can contribute to Christ’s finished priestly work. The all-sufficiency of Christ means, by implication, that we are insufficient of ourselves. We can do nothing to save ourselves.

Scripture Alone: The Bible is the only message (or foundation). The Bible alone is the highest authority for governing issues of life and doctrine. We don’t just listen to church tradition or the priest’s opinions. Sola Scriptura doesn’t mean the Bible is our ONLY authority–but it is the highest. Though there are many authorities in our lives, who or what has the greatest authority? Is it Scripture or our experiences? Do we submit the Bible to our business principles, or vice-versa? If the Bible contradicts something we believe, do we abandon the erring belief, or do we neglect the Word of God?

Grace Alone: Grace is the only method. There isn’t a special act or condition that man does to be saved–it is a sovereign act of God on behalf of sinners. It isn’t a birthright, but the grace of God. Grace was spoken about by Paul more than any other biblical writer, about 100x. We can’t understand the essence of Christianity apart from a proper understanding of the grace of God. Pastors who preach sermons from Scripture yet do not understand the grace of God are like pilots who don’t understand the essence of flying. That means they are putting all of the passengers at risk.

Faith alone: Faith is the only means. It isn’t by works that we are saved, or through church attendance, but by faith in Jesus. So the good news of the Gospel is that we do not have to wait for righteousness to be accomplished in us before God counts us righteous before Him. No, God declares us to be justified solely based on Christ’s imputed righteousness.

The glory of God alone: The glory of God is the greatest meaning, the greatest ambition in creation. The reason we exist is to give glory to God. All glory and honor are due to God alone. We don’t give glory to a man, a church, a denomination, a pope, etc. We give glory to God, and everything we do is for Him. The focus–or you could say the win–is that God receives all preference, honor, worship, and adoration in and through our lives.

On October 31, every year, as children are (usually) dressing up in costumes, the Protestant church is praising God for the boldness of Luther and others, for the return to the Gospel and the importance of building our lives and doctrine from the Holy Scriptures. Every year we can celebrate by thanking God for the work of His Holy Spirit in reforming the church to honor Him and to share this message of reconciliation with a lost and needy world.

The Five Solas and Today

We who have been born-again are a part of a great tradition, but the Reformation work isn’t finished. We live in a time when the Church of today is falling into apostasy and compromise. The Church didn’t conquer Rome in the first millennia: Rome conquered the Church. And today, it may not be Rome that seeks to corrupt the Church. The philosophy of this age: secular humanism and postmodern thought, coupled with a feel-good message that appeals to the senses and is soft on doctrine, is working to conquer the Church of our generation.

Scripture alone is no longer sufficient for man. Many are turning to pragmatism and human wisdom for insight. Many modern sermons emphasize a “do better, try harder” moralism rather than the glorious Gospel of Christ’s finished work–and that by His grace through faith, we are saved. We glory in our accomplishments, our attendance, our budgets, our campuses, and our social media influence–rather than delighting in Christ alone for the glory of God.

And yet, with every generation since the incarnation of Christ, it has taken bold men and women of the faith to stand up and be willing to speak the truth even when there is great opposition. For centuries, people were silent as the Church drifted further and further from God’s design, and it took someone like Luther (and others) to stand up and stop it.

May we celebrate the Reformation by being absolutely sold out for the Gospel–being willing to die proclaiming the truth about Christ!

May we be willing to offer our lives to the Lord and worship Him above ourselves or others!

May we have the boldness of Luther to stand up among the people of this generation and speak the truth, living our lives for God’s glory alone, resting in the grace of God, trusting Christ, building our doctrine and life upon the unchangeable Word of God, until we see Him face to face!

“I cannot and will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. Here I stand, I can do no other, so help me God. Amen.” -Martin Luther

One question I am sometimes asked is how a person can know what their “calling” in life is. Some of the Protestant Reformers had a particular view on this topic which is helpful for us in how we think about “calling” in our lives.

The words “occupation,” “job” and “vocation” are used more or less interchangeably by people today.

“Vocational training,” for example, refers to training specific to a particular line of work. However, for the Reformers, the word “vocation” had a distinct meaning.

The word vocation comes from the Latin word vocare, literally: “calling.”

For the Reformers, to speak of work as vocation, reflected their view that “secular” work is actually a calling from God to do his work in the world and to love your neighbor by serving them in practical ways.

This was in contrast to the view which was held by the medieval Roman Catholic Church, which made a strong distinction between sacred and secular realms of life, the sacred realm being reserved for things directly related to religious or church work, and the secular realm being that of all non-church-related activity. This view, however, is still very common – and the language of “secular” vs “sacred” is still very prominent. Think about all the times you have heard people talk about “secular music” as opposed to “Christian music,” or if you have heard people talk about “secular jobs” as opposed to “ministry.”

To this, Luther wrote:

“What seem to be secular works are actually the praise of God and represent an obedience which is well-pleasing to him.’ Housework may have ‘no obvious appearance of holiness, yet those household chores are to be more valued than all the works of monks and nuns.’” (From Luther’s commentary on Genesis)

To the person struggling to find their calling, Luther might have responded, “Are you a husband or a wife? Are you a mother or a father, a child or an employee?” (See Colossians 3:17-24)

The Reformers would have pushed back against the concept of “finding your calling.” Your calling, they would have said, is not something mysterious or difficult to discern. It is the current circumstances of your life. If you are a mother, then your calling is to be a mother. If you are an office worker, then it is to be an office worker. There is a freedom to change what you do, but whatever you do, you are to view it as a calling from God to serve Him by serving your neighbor in that context. This is not to diminish the fact that God does call some people into “vocational ministry,” but rather to elevate the value of work done outside the church realm as genuine callings, which can be done as ministry: being God’s instrument to accomplish His work in the world.

Martin Luther used this example:

“Jesus instructed his disciples to pray: ‘Give us this day our daily bread.’ Consider how many people and jobs are involved in God answering that one prayer: there is a farmer who plants and waters and harvests grain. There’s a miller, who grinds the grain into flour. There’s someone who produces oil. There’s someone who transports the materials. There’s a baker. There is a grocer who sells the bread. All of these people, as they do their jobs, are contributing to the answering of this prayer: ‘Give us this day our daily bread.’”

He went on to point out that Psalm 147 says that God is the one who strengthens and protects a city, and yet this work is done through lawmakers and first responders.

What transforms a job into a calling is faith.

By faith, we see our daily activities as tasks given to us by God to be done for His glory and for the benefit of others.

By these criteria, we can also determine which jobs are not worth doing. If you do not believe that what you are doing is honoring God or contributing to the flourishing of other people, or if the way you make your money is actually detrimental to others, then the right thing to do might be to find another job.

This principle should not be taken to mean that you must not leave your job if, for example, the working climate or culture is unhealthy, or if you would simply like to pursue another career. It simply means that you ought to view whatever you do as a way to glorify God and do His work in the world by serving others.

As the Church prepares to celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation on October 31, 2017, there is much to celebrate. Truly the Reformation has been an impetus for glorious eternal good. Yet, it may be helpful to understand the Reformation through Jewish eyes. I am unable to speak universally for my people, but I am likely able to offer an uncommon perspective as a Jew, a follower of Jesus and a Calvary Chapel pastor for more than 25 years.

Suffice it to say that Luther is a poster child for a purified Christianity, which is generally a good thing for all humanity, Jew and Gentile.

Nevertheless, you won’t see that poster hung in many Jewish homes. And that poster may even be offensive to a history savvy Jew. In a 2008 article by Magda Teter, published in Modern Jewish History, the author provides a scholarly snapshot of this tension:

“In the early stages of his break with Rome, Martin Luther seemed to make a stark break with prevalent attitudes about Jews. In a treatise written in 1523, he depicted the Jews as models of common sense: ‘If I had been a Jew and seen such oafs and numbskulls governing and teaching the Christian faith,’ he wrote, ‘I would have rather become a sow than a Christian.’ By using gentle persuasion, Luther argued the reformers might convince the Jews to accept conversion to a purified Christianity. But in the 1540s, Luther shifted to harsh attacks on the Jews, resorting to common late-medieval stereotypes. In fact, in his later career, his vision of how the Jews should be treated greatly exceeded in hostility anything ever proposed by the Roman Church, including a call to destroy synagogues and Jewish homes, to confiscate Jewish writings, to prohibit rabbis from teaching, to prohibit Jewish usury, and, eventually, to expel them. This violated both customary law and Roman church policy, which in principle protected the Jews’ right to practice Judaism in peace. True, not every reformer was as immoderate as Luther. But none of the major reformers produced a significantly new theological position vis-a-vis the Jews. They all held to the ancient doctrine that the Jews willfully and wickedly refused to accept the truth of the Gospels, even though the Church had demonstrated it to them.

The upheaval caused by the early Reformation also had negative practical consequences for the Jews. In the charged atmosphere that resulted, expulsions and persecutions became, if anything, more frequent in German lands. In the papal states and northern Italy, the upheaval of the Reformation also contributed to greater repression of the Jews. In the previous century and a half, popes, princes, and urban governments in Italy had tended to adopt a pragmatic attitude to the Jews, protecting their presence for the sake of the tax revenue they contributed. But in the 1550s, prompted by the various anxieties of the Reformation period, popes Julius III and Paul IV decreed several severe measures aimed at bringing about Jewish conversions. Three measures from this period did have far-reaching consequences: the requirement that Jews sell all real estate to Christians, the forced ghettoization of the Italian Jews, and the censorship of Hebrew books.

Yet in the long run, the Reformation set off processes with unanticipated consequences that improved the conditions of Jewish life. There was a shift in popular attitudes from one that had been promoted by the friars, a fearful, otherworldly perspective, to a more this-worldly, confident point of view. Jews lost much of their fantastic, demonic image in Christian eyes and assumed a more instrumental, utilitarian one. Partly, this change had roots in humanistic scholarship and Protestant Bible-reading. Given the Protestant encouragement of lay Bible reading, it is not surprising that Luther and many of the early reformers worked to promote Hebrew studies. Christian Hebraists became familiar with rabbinic exegesis, particularly through the commentaries of Rashi, Abraham ibn Ezra, and David Kimchi. Contact with Jewish interpretations eroded negative attitudes to the Jewish ‘carnal’ reading of the Bible. This does not mean that Christian Hebraists looked upon Jews favorably. They often continued to loathe the Jews. But new possibilities for evaluating Judaism emerged.

A truly momentous change resulted from the wide dissemination of the Hebrew Bible itself, whether in Hebrew, Latin, or the vernacular. Before the Reformation, the Bible had been read mainly by a tiny minority of educated, Latin-trained clerics. With the advent of vernacular translations in print, with increasing numbers of educated lay people, and with the strong encouragement of lay Bible-reading by reformers, a radically different relationship developed between lay Christians and the Scripture of the Jews.”¹

It is at this stage of the historical development that I can offer my perspective to the Luther conundrum.

As a Jewish follower of Yeshua, I don’t view Luther as an anti-Semitic bastard, nor do I venerate him as a near perfect hero of the faith. I greatly appreciate his remarkable conviction, courage, and in many respects, tremendous theological clarity. Yet, what I’m most grateful for is his influence hinted by Teter as follows, “…The strong encouragement of lay Bible-reading by reformers, a radically different relationship developed between lay Christians and the Scripture of the Jews.”² Not only did the encouragement of lay Bible-reading change the relationship between Christians and the Jewish Scriptures, but from my perspective, it changed the relationship between Jews and biblically literate followers of Jesus.

This is wonderfully evidenced in the Calvary Chapel movement with a rich history of Bible teaching and Bible learning. As a movement, we reject the replacement theology that asserts that the Church has replaced Israel and recognizes God’s on going promises to the Jewish people (Romans 9-11). Paul was sure to remind the primarily Gentile Roman church of their spiritual debt to the Jews. The Gentiles are a glorious branch, but the Jews are the root (Romans 11). This biblical perspective, that Luther undoubtedly (but perhaps unintentionally) helped to facilitate and encourage, fostered a genuine love by Bible reading Christians for Jews and the nation state of Israel.

So although I have no Luther posters displayed in my office, I do greatly appreciate his efforts, am exceptionally grateful for the Reformation and presently give a tip of the yarmulke in respect.

¹ “Early Modern Jewish History Overview”
² Ibid.

Does God work in patterns? If He works miraculously in one area, does that mean He will do the same thing in another? Sometimes we hear of a person who has done extraordinary things for the Lord. Inspired, it’s natural to wish we’d been there or look for a way of replicating their work. We can’t go back in time; we can’t go around imitating other people’s achievements, but we can celebrate what happened.

One such event was Martin Luther’s 95 thesis he attached to the church door in Wittemberg, Germany, but 17 years after that event, a similar action was executed in the name of reforming the church that became known as “the Affair of the Placards” or “posters” in old French. The consequences were not as positive as Luther’s move. But for the kingdom of France, it was equally decisive. The Affair of the Placards provided an example of how God may do one thing in one place, but that does not guarantee He’ll do the same in another. He is after all, God.

The Reformation had been spreading roots behind the scenes for some time.

Thanks to the work of Jacques Lefevre d’Etaples, an aged professor at the Sorbonne, of whom Erasmus spoke fondly, he led his students to look to the Scriptures for inspiration and worked hard to make them understood by the people in their language. He released a French New Testament one year after Luther’s German text and commentaries on the Gospels and Epistles in the following years.

The Sorbonne reacted violently to Lefevre d’Etaple’s translation, burning it in the streets for fear it would propagate Luther’s ideas in France. He continued his work and poured into the lives of men like Guillaume Farel, who became one of the more outspoken and active evangelists of that time. He preached to all who would listen, traveling all over the Eastern half of the kingdom, and often found himself in trouble with both civil and ecclesiastical authorities.

Another important person to consider in the Affair of the Placards is Francis I, King of France.

Francis was a strong leader, centralizing his power and bringing in the influences of the Italian renaissance. He hoped to attain peace in his kingdom that his rival in Germany, Charles V, hadn’t with the Lutherans. According to historian Patrick Cabanel, Francis I may have even entertained the idea of reformation without making any formal adherence. In fact, he called up Lefevre d’Etaples to be the preceptor of his children in 1526.

The king of France was a souverain by divine right, meaning God, not the Pope gave him the right to rule his people. He was a Catholic monarch and protector of the Church, though he held no particular affection for the Medici Pope Leo X during Martin Luther’s day. In fact, John Calvin’s aim at writing his Institutes of the Christian Religion were to win over the king.

By October 1534, the world was different than in October 31,1517. Martin Luther just published his entire translation of the Bible in German; Ulrich Zwingli had already died on the battlefield, and this was the year Henry VIII would declare himself the head of the Church of England. Maybe these political changes inspired Antoine Marcourt, a pastor from Neufchatel and Guillaume Farel, to draft a new text, a sort of 95 thesis of their own. Judging from their writing, they hoped to start a revolution. They wouldn’t just tack up this message on the door of Notre Dame in Paris; they had much bigger plans.

“True arguments against the horrible, great and unbearable abuses of the papal mass, invented directly against the Lord’s Supper, the only Mediator, and only Savior, Jesus Christ.” (personal translation of a modern version by Marianne Carbonnier-Bukard). This is how they began their four thesis that they hammered out in the most violent terms, including Scripture references. Marcourt attacked the doctrine of transubstantiation as a dangerous heresy, an absurdly difficult word to pronounce, and a trap from hell to all who take the Lord’s Supper.

Once they finished drafting their work, they printed it out and recruited a small “army” of passionate French Protestant militants.

On the night of the October 17-18,1534, the band of evangelists posted Marcourt’s handiwork everywhere they could in Paris, Blois, Tours, Orléans and Rouen, including the king’s bedroom door, and according to some sources, even in his pocket. As expected, they were able to get Francis’ attention but certainly not the way they hoped. For the king, this was a breach in security; this was an attack on the mother church he was called to protect; this was an affront to his God-given authority, and this was high treason. Thus, in the course of one night, a king who was open to Protestantism, if for no other reason than to better his German rival or to please his sister Marguerite, who favored the new Lutheran doctrines, became a bitter enemy of the Reformation. Francis then took action that would eventually plunge his country into a series of religious wars, costing countless lives and is considered even today as one of the worst testimonies to Christianity in France.

This was a hard blow, but we cannot separate men from their time and judge them by our own standards.

Farel and Marcourt acted thoughtfully and prayerfully with the intention of bringing the Gospel to the highest courts of France. And all was not lost. John Calvin escaped to Geneva, and persuaded to stay by Guillaume Farel, developed one of the more successful theocratic societies over the following years.

What do we do with the Affair of the Placards?

At the least, may it be a reminder that what works for someone in one country doesn’t always work for another. In the end, we are called not to look so much for what “works,” but look to the One who is working in us and calls us to follow Him. He is the Lord of the Harvest.