Nelson H. MINNICH and Michal ROOT, eds. Martin Luther and the Shaping of the Catholic Tradition: Proceedings of the International Conference Held in Washington, DC May 30 to June 1, 2017. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2021. Pp. xix + 289. ISBN 978-0-8132-3533-2. Reviewed by Ryan J. MARR, Mercy College of Health Sciences, Des Moines, IA 50309.
The long-term reception of Martin Luther within Catholic theological discourse has been mixed. Understandably, early Catholic responses to Luther’s theology were hostile. He was viewed almost exclusively as a heretic to be defeated, who had little or nothing to contribute to orthodox theological reflection. However, as the first chapter in this collection of essays points out, there was a turning point in the scholarship—sparked by the work of Joseph Lortz—which led “to a more positive and at least more nuanced image of Luther within Catholic research” (p. 5). This thawing in the Catholic view towards Luther was captured in a 1983 statement of the Roman Catholic/Lutheran Joint Commission, which went so far as to call Luther a “Witness to the gospel” (p. 6). In the intervening four decades since that statement, Catholic theologians and historians have continued to wrestle with the ecumenical significance of Luther’s work, but with less suspicion than did some of their forerunners. This volume, edited by Nelson Minnich and Michael Root, encapsulates in one book the fruits of that scholarship as well as recent ecumenical dialogue between Roman Catholics and Lutherans. While the underlying tone of the collection is irenic, its contributors are to be commended for not shying away from challenging topics, including areas where serious doctrinal disagreement between the two traditions persists. In this light, the volume represents a starting point as much as it does a retrospective, in that it constructively lays the groundwork for future ecumenical exchanges between Catholic and Lutheran theologians.
One of the obvious strengths of this collection is its careful attention to history. The editors of the volume intentionally invited scholars who could situate Luther’s protest within its broader historical context. The section on the Eucharist, for instance, begins with a chapter on Eucharistic theology in late medieval thought, transitions into a study of Luther’s views on the medieval Mass, and concludes with an overview of Catholic responses to Luther’s rejection of the sacrificial character of the Mass. By proceeding in this manner, the volume is able to transcend the kind of facile polemics that sometimes plague ecumenical debate. The conversations, on the whole, are oriented towards historical understanding, not scoring easy theological points. Younger scholars, meanwhile, could use the footnotes for each essay as a guide for a more in-depth study of the topic under consideration.
The historical depth of the essays also signals a challenge to theologians not to paper over real differences for the sake of a false sense of peace. Trent Pomplun, for example, excoriates From Conflict to Communion, a recent Lutheran-Catholic Common Commemoration of the Reformation, for its historical shoddiness. In Pomplun’s view, this document seeks to foster communion, but does so by presenting a caricature of late medieval Eucharistic theology and then by implying that for four hundred years no Catholic theologian could answer Martin Luther’s criticism of the Mass as a sacrifice. In so doing, the document’s authors—some of them Catholic—take for granted Lutheran historiographical principles and, in turn, fail to seriously engage the significant contributions that post-Tridentine Catholic theology made to our understanding of the Mass. Pomplun concludes his essay with a palpable sense of frustration, remarking that, “It is better to argue about Scripture than to agree on this dubious historiography” (p. 200). For Pomplun, authentic communion can only be sought by confronting our root disagreements, not by spinning an alternate history that misconstrues the nature or seriousness of those disagreements.
I admire Pomplun for speaking so forthrightly in an age when that sort of commentary is sometimes construed as insufficiently tactful. The ecumenical movement since the middle part of the twentieth century has mostly been driven by a search for theological convergences, which has helped to foster congenial relations between Christian communions that have historically been at odds. However, while there’s something to be said for taking stock of what unites us, we must also be willing to confront what continues to divide us. For in spite of a steady stream of ecumenical documents highlighting shared theological convictions, the goal of attaining eucharistic communion appears as elusive as ever. Healing the wounds of schism will only be possible, in my judgment, by tracking back to the disagreements that led to rupture in the first place and addressing those at the source.
One looming obstacle along the ecumenical path is the stark difference between how Lutherans and Roman Catholics think about the nature of the church. As Cardinal Kurt Koch points out in the opening chapter, “the Reformation of the 16th century led to the formation of a different type of church, characterized by the fact that the churches derived from the Reformation want to be church in a different way” (p. 13). This basic impulse eventually led to all sorts of divergences from the Catholic tradition, including a markedly different conception of Christian ministry, in which pastors, male and female, exist “only for the sake of order” (p. 14). In light of these developments, it’s understandable why the Catholic Church does not consider ecclesial communities stemming from the Reformation to be “churches in the proper sense,” since they “have not preserved the valid Episcopate and the genuine and integral substance of the Eucharistic mystery” (Dominus Iesus, 1999, §17). On the surface, this claim sounds harsh, but on another level, it’s simply taking seriously the position of Protestants themselves who have signaled their disagreement with, e.g., the Catholic understanding of apostolic succession, the sacramental priesthood, the sacrificial character of the Mass, etc.
Near the end of the volume, Johanna Rahner observes that “ecclesiology has developed from a theological side topic into the central issue of ecumenism” (p. 240). This contention strikes me as fundamentally correct, in that most of the doctrinal issues that divide Catholics and Protestants stem from and relate back to different understandings of the Church. Speaking from the Catholic side of the divide, we believe there to be one Church, a visible body, that can be traced back to the Apostles—the unity of which will be preserved intact until the second coming of Christ. Given these convictions, true reform, as Cardinal Walter Brandmüller has pointed out, “can never have the result that that which has been reformed is no longer identical with that which was previously to be reformed” (quoted on p. 17). The novelist Georges Bernanos once made a similar point when he noted that Saint Francis of Assisi was almost certainly as repulsed as Luther was by the debauchery and simony of prelates. However, Francis “did not challenge iniquity; he was not tempted to confront it; instead, he threw himself into poverty, immersing himself in it as deeply as possible along with his followers.” What the Church needs, Bernanos concluded, “is not critics but artists,” those who recognize that the only way of reforming the Church is to suffer within and for her. Luther, in becoming a critic, followed a different course, and in so doing the monk of Wittenberg tragically found himself outside the Church. Once the definitive break with Rome had taken place, the reforms for which Luther had fought so fiercely were no longer possible. From that point forward, the communities stemming from Luther’s protest would be characterized by a different modus, one in which serious disagreement is settled not through synodality or ecclesiastical discipline but by the parting of ways.
This contributors to this volume write within this tension, recognizing that Luther raised legitimate protests against practices prevalent during his time while at the same acknowledging that the ruptures brought about by his movement have been detrimental to the shared witness of Christians, especially in the West. It’s worth noting, at this point, that the collection does not limit itself to Lutheran-Roman Catholic relations but ends with three chapters on Luther and Eastern Christianity. This concluding section of the volume reminds us that all who confess Christ as Lord have a stake in the direction that ecumenical conversations take. The road ahead will not be an easy one, but books like this one prove that it’s possible to conduct ecumenical dialogue charitably without sacrificing a commitment to doctrinal integrity. Cardinal Koch concludes his chapter with a stirring comment, noting that, “A common Reformation commemoration will only represent an ecumenical opportunity if the year 2017 is not the conclusion but a new beginning in the ecumenical struggle for full communion between Lutherans and Catholics, celebrated in the triad chord of gratitude, repentance, and hope” (p. 22). A similar remark could be made about this volume: It will only represent an ecumenical opportunity if it proves to be a new beginning, and one that seeks a path forward not by avoiding but precisely by confronting the doctrinal disagreements that continue to divide us.