Abstract
Martin Luther’s Anti-Semitism: Against His better Judgment
Eric Gritsch
Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012. xiv + 158 pp. $25.00
In the years leading up to the quincentenary of the posting of Martin Luther’s 95 theses in 2017, it is perhaps inevitable that we will witness another “Luther Renaissance” to rival that spearheaded by Karl Holl in the early years of the twentieth century. If so, then among the enduring themes in Luther research we might expect to see canvassed Luther’s relationship to and theological understanding of the Jews. Indeed, two of the annual topics in the so-called “Luther Decade”—tolerance (2013) and politics (2014)—lend themselves precisely to this contestable question (3). This is the subject matter of two recent books coming out of the Lutheran Theological Seminary in Gettysburg.
Eric Gritsch is Emeritus Professor of Church History and former director of the Institute for Luther Studies. Brooks Schramm is a professor of biblical studies, while Kirsi Stjerna is a professor of reformation history and successor to Gritsch as director of the Luther Studies Institute. Their respective books are quite different in style, yet the conclusions they reach are substantially the same: Jews and Judaism—and more specifically, Luther’s increasingly hostile attitude towards them—form a central element of, and not merely a marginal notation to, his hermeneutic.
Gritsch divides his work into three sections, dealing sequentially with the broad history of Christian and non-Christian anti-Semitism, the textual evidence of Luther’s views within the overall body of his work, and the impact that those views had on future generations of Lutheranism. The historical context described by Gritsch in the first section will be utterly familiar territory to anyone who has worked in the field before; this section yields nothing surprising or new. Nonetheless, it helpfully sets Luther within a broader tradition of anti-Semitism—while he was certainly more than simply a “man of his times,” he was at least that. The final section reminds us that both Lutheranism and anti-Semitism are living traditions, and that all too frequently the former has been the vehicle for the latter. Although Gritsch shows that some Luther scholars have critically reevaluated Luther’s legacy, particularly since 1945, there remains a majority tendency to downplay his hostility to the Jews or to provide apologia for it.
The heart of Gritsch’s book lies in section two, in which he explores some of the main pieces of textual evidence for Luther’s anti-Semitism. (Incidentally, it is noticeable that, whereas Gritsch freely uses the term “anti-Semitism” to denote Luther’s attitudes, Schramm and Stjerna are far more circumspect in their language.) Tracing his way through Luther’s lectures on the Psalms and the Pauline epistles, as well as his more polemical tracts, Gritsch ably illustrates a profound contradiction within Luther’s mind and theology: on the one hand, a deep love of the Hebrew Bible, and on the other hand, an abiding enmity towards Jews and postbiblical Judaism for their stubborn resistance to Jesus. Gritsch argues that throughout his life, Luther “viewed the Word of God as a timeless truth already present in the Old Testament” (46). The Jewish denial of this christocentricity of their own Scriptures thus compelled Luther to reject Paul’s “eschatological reservation”—the belief that Jews and Christians would be united again before the Last Day—and instead see the Jews’ refusal to convert as the beginning of their eternal punishment (40–41). Hence, and in contrast to many of the more apologetic interpretations, Gritsch sees Luther not as someone who evolved only gradually into his anti-Jewish hostility, but as someone for whom enmity towards Jews and rabbinic Judaism contributed to his understanding of the Bible.
And yet, Gritsch would also have it that Luther’s anti-Semitism is contrary to the core of his theology and that it can rightly be said, therefore, to be “against his better judgment” (138). He makes this claim not on the basis of how Luther expounds any particular doctrinal locus, but on what Gritsch sees as Luther’s fundamental theological epistemology. Luther’s argument against Erasmus in The Bondage of the Will (1525) is predicated upon proclaiming God on the basis of what about God is revealed, and not what is kept mysteriously hidden. Contra Erasmus, theology cannot be speculative. Yet Gritsch’s claim is that Luther’s certainty about knowing the ultimate fate of the Jews, as distinct from the Pauline mystery of Rom 11, contradicts this very tenet—it is a “violation of his own rule” (77). This is an intriguing possibility. In my opinion, however, Gritsch is far less successful in arguing the methodological point than in outlining the extent and depth of Luther’s anti-Semitism.
The Schramm and Stjerna reader allows Luther’s writings to speak for themselves. As with Gritsch, they contend that Luther’s hostility towards Jews and Judaism is a constant theme throughout his life. It is a “static aspect” of his thought, remaining “essentially unchanged from the earliest stages of his career” (3).
Schramm’s introductory article is especially useful in highlighting the distinction Luther made between biblical and postbiblical Judaism (5). Nonetheless, Schramm also picks up Gritsch’s point that, for Luther, even the Hebrew Bible is essentially a Christian book—indeed, there are two “volumes” of Christian Scriptures that bespeak a fundamental unity (13). That being the case, two corollaries follow. First, Judaism as such is an inherently dead religion; never does Luther entertain any hope of salvation for the Jew as a Jew (9). To do so would be to imply a salvific quality apart from Christ to the Jewish religion of the Old Testament. Second, only Christian scholars can plumb the theological truth of the Old Testament—hence rabbinic interpretive traditions are not only folly but accursed (15), as are all who use them (including the Christian Hebraists of the sixteenth century).
Stjerna’s chapter contextualizes the Jews for Luther’s time and location. Noting that they occupied a varied and vibrant set of traditions and roles within Reformation Europe that are not conducive to monochrome stereotyping, she nonetheless shows that “the Jew” was, for Luther, a caricatured entity. Aside from the Jews of the Old Testament—the heroes of faith and thus prototypical Christians—Jews existed for Luther primarily as enemies of the state and the church, and as a theological cipher for original sin (34). Perhaps most importantly, Stjerna emphasizes that Luther’s feelings about Jews and Judaism were based on myth and imagination and hardly at all upon personal contact with them. Indeed, Wittenberg was essentially empty of Jews during Luther’s lifetime, following their expulsion in 1304. With little to go on but centuries of ecclesial tradition, it is hardly surprising that Luther’s views were so antipathetic.
Following the two introductory chapters, the rest of the book present excerpts from relevant writings, with short introductory notes.
Both of these books cover well-trodden territory, with neither advocating any arguments that are entirely novel. Nonetheless, they are well written and carefully researched. Most importantly, in the wake of recent reports from the German Bundestag and the Anti-Defamation League that have highlighted the continuing prevalence of anti-Semitic infection throughout Europe, these books serve as timely reminders to be ever vigilant against it within the Church’s doctrine and liturgy.