The German Reformed Congregation and its Province of Lower Germany

Author(s):  
Robert Christman

To fully appreciate the events leading to the executions of Vos and van den Esschen, it is critical to understand the establishment, structure, and growth of the German Reformed Congregation of Augustinians (Observants) in the Holy Roman Empire during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. In particular, close analysis of the Congregation’s expansion into Lower Germany in the 1510s, a result of encouragement by its leader, Johann von Staupitz, reveals a clear set of tactics at work. An awareness of this strategy establishes the foundation for one argument of this monograph: that having learned how the objectives of the Observant movement could be promoted and disseminated, Martin Luther and his colleagues repurposed these methods in the service of the Reformation.

Author(s):  
Joachim Whaley

Martin Luther was a subject of the Elector of Saxony in the Holy Roman Empire. His emergence as a reformer was made possible by the sponsorship he received in Wittenberg. He owed his survival to the protection afforded him by the Elector when Emperor Charles V outlawed him and ordered that the papal ban of excommunication be enforced in the empire. The audience to which Luther appealed was the general population of German Christians, both lay and ecclesiastical, who wanted a reform of the church and the reduction of the pope’s influence over it. That his appeal resonated so widely and so profoundly had much to do with a combination of crises that had developed in the empire from the 15th century. That his reform proposals resulted in the formation of a new church owed everything to the political structures of the empire. These facilitated the suppression of radical challenges to Luther’s position. They also thwarted every effort Charles V made over several decades to ensure that the empire remained Catholic. Lutheranism became entwined with the idea of German liberty; as a result, its survival was secured in the constitution of the empire, first in 1555 and then in 1648.


2020 ◽  
Vol 16 (3) ◽  
pp. 28-37
Author(s):  
Svetlana Vasileva

The article studies the Counter-Reformation process in Germany and the neighboring European ter-ritories in a wider context as a complex of geopolitical, social and religious problems growing in Europe in the 15th and the 16th centuries. The study aims at finding connections between the Reformation processes launched by Martin Luther and the subsequent course of German history during the Counter-Reformation. The article focuses on the situation in Germany against a wider background of the developments in the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation. This paper con-tinues the author’s previous article on the German Reformation and Martin Luther’s role in it. It ex-amines the consequences of the Reformation that brought Germany on the edge of a humanitarian disaster in the Thirty Years’ War. The course of the war, as well as its geopolitical causes and con-sequences for Germany and for the whole of Europe are also investigated. The author describes and analyzes a broad historical and political context which determined the circumstances and reasons for many European states’ participation in the Thirty Years’ War, as well as the consequences of the Peace of Westphalia.


2020 ◽  
Vol 47 (3) ◽  
pp. 371-414
Author(s):  
Richard Lüdicke

How to Come up for a Decision: Procedure or Negotiation? The Disputations in Cities in the 1520s The disputations held in imperial cities of the Holy Roman Empire during the 1520 s, facing the turmoils caused by the reformation, served – like a stage play – to showcase and communicate the decision to implement Reformation that had already been made in advance. Usually, this is the judgement on the so called “Religionsgespräche”. Although this view shows up even in contemporary statements, the article argues, that a differentiated analysis of the various actors, their interests and possibilities to influence the events opens up a clearer perspective on what happened and why it happened. Using the sociological distinction of procedure and negotiation, this article shows, that the disputation had to keep the balance between reglemented procedure and more liberal negotiation to produce an accepted and also binding result for their community. Examples from the disputations of Zürich (1523), Kaufbeuren, Memmingen, Nürnberg (1525) and Bern (1528) allow this article to illustrate different ways of how this balancing on a razor’s edge could be done. The conclusion develops a general model of how the cities used disputations to try to deal with the religious turmoil while facing stiff opposition from local clerics and scholars, the papal church and the emperor.


Author(s):  
David M. Whitford

Violence was first experienced in the church as martyrdom. Under the Roman Empire, Christians were subjected to state-sponsored penalties ranging from fines to corporal punishment to execution. A number of prominent early theologians and apologists fell victim, including Polycarp, Justin Martyr, Origen, Cyprian, Perpetua, and Felicity. With the end of persecution under Constantine and then its eventual designation as the empire’s official religion, Christianity’s relationship to violence changed significantly. While some theologians had attempted to grapple with the question of whether Christians could join the Roman armies, the new relationship between church and state required new theological consideration. Accordingly, new questions arose: For example, could or should the state enforce right belief? Over time, three general approaches to violence emerged. The first is a coercive model. In this model, the state (and then later, the church in places) used its punitive powers to enforce Christian orthodoxy and fight against its enemies, both within its own borders and externally. St. Augustine provided part of the justification for coercion in his “Letter 93: To Valentius,” in which he argued that not all persecution is evil. If persecution is aimed at bringing one to right belief and practice, it has a positive goal. Many heresy trials and later executions were supported by “Letter 93.” Later thinkers expanded the model of internal persecution against heretics to external attacks on those deemed threatening to Christianity from outside the church or outside the empire. The Crusades were largely justified on such bases. The second is a pacifist model. Though perhaps the dominant model in the first two centuries of the church, it was quickly eclipsed by the other two perspectives. Early theologians such as Tertullian and Cyprian argued that because Christ forbade Peter to use the sword in the Garden of Gethsemane, Christians were forbidden from using violence to achieve any ends, “but how will a Christian man war, nay, how will he serve even in peace, without a sword, which the Lord has taken away” (Tertullian, On Idolatry, Chapter 19, “On Military Service.”) In the medieval period, the pacifist model was adopted by some monastic traditions (e.g., the Spiritualist Franciscans), but more commonly by what were then considered heretical movements, including the Cathars, Albigensians, Waldensians, and Czech Brethren. The final model is often called the “Just War” perspective. The origin for this theory can be found in St. Ambrose’s response to a massacre of innocent people. He argued that while a Christian should never use violence for his or her own benefit, there were times when a Christian, out of love for neighbor, had to use violence to protect the weak or innocent. To stand by and watch the powerful attack or kill the innocent when one can do something to prevent it is nearly as great a sin as being one of the attackers. As with the coercive model, Augustine provided much of the framework for this view of violence. Augustine allowed that there were some righteous wars, fought at the command of God as punishment for iniquity. That view remained less influential and is more closely connected to the coercive model. Far more influential was his view that there were wars that were necessary for the protection of the homeland and the innocent. In this sense, he outlined two major principles that guided later thinking. First, a war must have a right (or just) cause (ius ad bellum), and one must fight the war itself justly (ius in bello). Just causes included defending the homeland, coming to the aid of an ally, punishing wicked rulers, or retaking that which was unlawfully stolen. Beyond the simple cause, it also had to be rightly intentioned—it could not be fought for vainglory’s sake, nor to take new lands. It had to have some method of state control, since states go to war, not individual people. When conducting the war, one also had responsibilities. One had to be proportional, have achievable ends, and fight discriminately (that is, between combatants, not combatants against civilian populations). Finally, and most importantly, war had to be a last resort after all other measures failed, and it had to be aimed at producing a benefit for those one sought to defend. In the medieval era, Thomas Aquinas added significant precision to Augustine’s framework. All three models continued into the Reformation era. The advent of formally competing visions of Christianity following Luther’s excommunication by the pope and his ban by the emperor in 1521 at the Diet of Worms added new dimensions to these models. Martin Luther had occasion to comment upon all three.


Author(s):  
David Bagchi

Luther had a notoriously ambivalent attitude towards what was still the new technology of the printing press. He could both praise it as God’s highest act of grace for the proclamation of God’s Word, and condemn it for its unprecedented ability to mangle the same beyond recognition. That ambivalence seems to be reflected in the judgment of modern scholarship. Some have characterized the Reformation as a paradigmatic event in the history of mass communications (a Medien- or Kommunikationsereignis), while others have poured scorn on any reductionist attempt to attribute a complex movement to a technological advance and to posit in effect a doctrine of “Justification by Print Alone.” The evidence in favor of some sort of correlation between the use of printing and the success of the Reformation in Germany and Switzerland is certainly formidable. Thousands of German Reformation pamphlets (Flugschriften) survive to this day in research libraries and other collections (with Luther’s own works predominant among them), suggesting that the Holy Roman Empire was once awash with millions of affordable little tracts in the vernacular. Contemporary opponents of the Reformation lamented the potency of cheap print for propaganda and even for agitation among “the people,” and did their best either to beat the evangelical writers through legislation or else to join them by launching their own literary campaigns. But, ubiquitous as the Reformation Flugschrift was for a comparatively short time, the long-term impact of printing on Luther’s Reformation was even more impressive, above all in the production and dissemination of Bibles and partial Bibles that used Luther’s German translation. The message of the Lutheran Reformation, with its emphasis on the proclamation of God’s Word to all, seemed to coincide perfectly with the emergence of a new medium that could, for the first time, transmit that Word to all. Against this correlation must be set the very low literacy rate in the Holy Roman Empire in the early 16th century, which on some estimates ranged between only 5 and 10 percent. of the entire population. Even taking into account the fact that historical literacy rates are notoriously difficult to estimate, the impact of printing on the majority must have been negligible. This fact has led historians to develop more nuanced ways of understanding the early-modern communication process than simply imagining a reader sitting in front of a text. One is to recognize the “hybridity” of many publications—a pamphlet might contain labeled illustrations, or be capable of being read out aloud as a sermon, or of being sung. Luther himself published many successful hybrid works of this kind. Another is the notion of the “two-stage communication process,” by which propagandists or advertisers direct their message principally to influential, literate, opinion-formers who cascade the new ideas down. Clearly much work remains to be done in understanding how Luther’s propaganda and public opinion interacted. The fact that our present generations are living through a series of equally transformative and disruptive communications revolutions will no doubt inspire new questions as well as new insights.


Author(s):  
Edeltraud Klueting

The chapter addresses the history of monasticism in the German-speaking territories of the Holy Roman Empire from the sixteenth through the nineteenth centuries. Whether the Reformation movement unleashed by Martin Luther represented a continuation of late medieval monastic reforms or, rather, an abrupt departure from them, is a contentious issue. In the Catholic parts of Germany, after the Council of Trent, monasteries became significant agents in the renewal of the Church, especially in the areas of education and social and charitable activity. On the other hand, the Enlightenment, with its narrow conception of utility, called into question the very basis of monastic life, and hence the right of monasteries to exist. The fallout of the French Revolution and the French occupation of the left bank of the Rhine led to a great wave of monastic dissolutions. It was only under the influence of German Romanticism that monasticism experienced another revival.


Why History? ◽  
2020 ◽  
pp. 105-153
Author(s):  
Donald Bloxham

The chapter begins with History’s place in Renaissance Italy. Then it shows how the historiographies of various states were influenced by tendencies in Italian humanism, as well as by the Reformation. France is accorded special attention, then more briefly England and parts of the Holy Roman Empire. Then the chapter addresses the historiographical battles that corresponded to the religious conflicts of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. These were battles of ecclesiastical History, centring on ancient sources. The polemical nature of some of the disagreements reinforced existing scepticism about the reliability of historical knowledge. Yet an increasingly bipartisan critical methodology developed, based on a combination of humanist philology and new palaeographical techniques, with established religious hermeneutics playing their part. Here the dictates of self-serving confessional History as Identity sometimes stood in tension with the demands of a proceduralist History as Methodology even as all sides agreed on the importance of History as Communion. The chapter concludes by addressing a ‘scientific’ seventeenth century for whose dominant intellectual figures historical enquiry supposedly had little use. Like previous chapters, this one addresses conceptual concerns of a general nature as they arise. Different sorts of contextualization are addressed, along with their implications for thinking about the past. Particular consideration is given to how a heightened attention to historical contextualization could be reconciled with ongoing demands for the relevance of History as Lesson for the present. Topical reading was one established solution, but another was resurrected with the ancient doctrine of similitudo temporum.


Author(s):  
Ronald G. Asch

Whereas the princes of the empire often took a leading part in supporting the cause of the Reformation in the Holy Roman Empire the lower nobility, knights, and simple country squires were initially more reluctant to commit themselves to the new faith. However, to the extent that the confessional divide deepened, many noble families now firmly embraced either the Roman Church or Protestantism. Such development was even more pronounced in countries where the crown lost control over the process of confessionalization as in France or in the Habsburg monarchy. Here nobles often took a more active part in promoting the cause of the Reformation. In the later sixteenth century confessional allegiance frequently became part of the dynastic identity and the cultural capital of noble families.


1988 ◽  
Vol 57 (S1) ◽  
pp. 89-107
Author(s):  
Manfred Fleischer

Religious division has determined Germany's destiny. In the Middle Ages, it was the struggle between Emperor and Pope which doomed the Holy Roman Empire. During the Reformation, and the Thirty Years' War, it was Protestantism as well as the anti-Imperial diplomacy of the Pope and the French cardinals, which prevented the emergence of a national state and a centralized government. “From the split of the church dates all our misfortune,” complained in 1846 the Lutheran historian Johann Friedrich Böhmer, editor of a major medieval source collection. “It is a pity that the nation in the heart of Europe was drawn away from its political profession by quarrels with the church, that the development of strong political institutions was interrupted, that they eroded under the acids of religious passion and negation, so that the German people finally got into a stage of the disease where they are either seized by violent fever, or rot in apathy and despair. All our inner ferment which soon will erupt in a revolutionary outburst, all our political impotence and lethargy were, in the final analysis, caused by the split of the church, which tore us apart, and which no one can bridge. Only a new St. Boniface who would restore ecclesiastical unity could help us.”


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