Luther felt the reform of the church could not simply remain a matter of aesthetics and practice. Something much deeper needed to be rooted out.
Over the past few years, we’ve witnessed a resurgence in church attendance among young people (particularly young men). Such data - at the very least - shows a moment of reprieve from previously dismal statistics on the future of Christianity. Concurrently, there has been a rise in what has been defined as cultural Christianity, or the acknowledgment of the social and cultural benefits of Christianity, from public figures like the last of the new atheists, Richard Dawkins, the well-known psychologist Jordan Peterson, and even tech billionaire Elon Musk.
We have also seen a renewed interest from both Christians and non-Christians alike in the importance of virtue. Certainly, this is a response to the darker corners of our digital discourse making their way into the public sphere as well as the rise of Nietzschean and nihilistic worldviews online. But this trend also seems to mirror the renewed interest in the church at large. I know of a number of books published on Christian virtue and/or spiritual disciplines in the last couple of years. Pastor John Mark Comer’s emphasis on discipleship has gained him a huge following, especially amongst Gen Z. And this past summer on the long-form social media site, Substack, reading the late German Catholic philosopher who specializes in virtue, Josef Pieper, became something of a joke and then an actual trend.
Hear me when I say I find a renewed interest in virtue as a net positive. I would much rather see Christians pursuing faith, hope, and love than spending their time watching political hot takes, spiraling into conspiracy theories, and scrolling through TikTok. I would much rather do that myself, in all honesty (even if I often choose not to). I think the conversation around cultural Christianity via figures like Tom Holland is ripe for apologetic and evangelical conversations with non-Christians. Additionally, as a mother to toddlers who daily test the limits of their mortality, I’ve gained a deeper appreciation for God’s law and Christian virtue as a curb to sin and death.
And yet, with all this in mind, I feel it necessary to echo a simple concern – one first voiced by Martin Luther throughout the Protestant Reformation, which we celebrate tomorrow on Reformation Day: we must never confuse virtue for the message of the gospel.
This distinction is in many ways a defining factor of the Protestant Reformation. As Luther stated in his 1518 Heidelberg Disputation: “He is not justified who does many works, but he who, without work, believes much in Christ. The Law says, do this, and it is never done. Grace says, believe in this, and all things are already done.” [1]
The law tells us what we need to do, but it can never produce the righteousness it demands. The same is true for both Christian morality and virtue. While they can tell you what the good life looks like, when made the cornerstone of Christianity, they cannot and will not deliver the life promised by Christ. To locate the value of Christianity primarily in what it produces in us and in society rather than in what Christ has accomplished for us is a temptation that spans the course of history.
Martin Luther was not alone in his desire to reform the church in the 1500s. Many theologians and church leaders found the moral laxity and excesses of the Papacy concerning, including the well-known humanist, Desiderius Erasmus, whose mockery and criticisms of the papacy were widely published. But the difference between Erasmus and Luther was found in the power they gave to the human will: while Erasmus believed the human will could cooperate with God’s grace toward salvation, Luther believed that from beginning to end, salvation was left up to God alone.
This difference, of course, also affected how the two viewed morality. While they wouldn’t necessarily have disagreed on what Scripture says is right and wrong, they clearly differed in their perspective on what role morality played within theology. “Christianity, to Erasmus, was essentially morality, with a minimum doctrinal statement loosely appended,” writes J.I. Packer. “What Erasmus professed that he desired to see in Christendom was a return to an apostolic ‘simplicity’ of life and doctrine, and this he thought could be brought about simply by eliminating the superstitions and abuses which had crept into the Church’s life over the centuries.” [2]
For Luther, virtue isn’t inconsequential, but it clearly had no power when it came to our righteousness and salvation.
Luther, on the other hand, felt the reform of the church could not simply remain a matter of aesthetics and practice. Something much deeper needed to be rooted out: the human propensity to base salvation on one’s own abilities, which include even one’s potential for goodness and virtue. For Luther, virtue isn’t inconsequential, but it clearly had no power when it came to our righteousness and salvation. Instead, salvation and righteousness was worked solely by the work of Jesus Christ’s dying and rising.
His words concerning Christless virtue were sharp and direct as only Luther can be. Here is what he had to say to Erasmus on the matter:
“You give us a list of what you consider to be sufficient for Christian piety - a draft, indeed, which a Jew, or a Gentile who knew nothing of Christ, could easily draw up; for you do not mention Christ in a single letter–as if you think that Christian piety is possible without Christ, so long as God (who is kindness itself, you say) is whole-heartedly served.” [3]
To focus on the effects of Christianity without any faith in Christ himself may bring about some semblance of societal good in the short term, but it’s not a viable substitute for Christianity proper. According to Luther, such efforts are not only futile when it comes to salvation, but they do more harm than good. For while the law must remain distinct from the gospel, law separated from the gospel will lead us to either pride or despair and away from Christ. The same effects can be seen within the current trend of cultural Christianity adopted by those like Dawkins. At the end of his latest book, The Desecration of Man, church historian Carl Trueman comments on the appropriation of Christian code, or Christian morality and ethics: “Figures like Dawkins want to preserve a residual Christian culture while sloughing off the creed and the cult. Yet code cannot survive on its own” [4]. In other words, without true belief in the teachings of Christianity, the morals of the church have little hope of longevity. One only has to look at the downfall of twentieth-century mainline Protestantism to see Trueman’s point proven true.
I am not trying to argue that anyone interested in Christian virtue is in danger of denying Christ’s bodily resurrection. I know many who would assert that virtue is only the fruit of our justification in Christ. For instance, Alan Noble’s newest book, To Live Well, does an excellent job of discussing virtue in this way.
But on this Reformation Day, we would do well to remember that before we focus on either our piety or our practice, we must first take a good look at our hearts: “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 3:23-24). Our hearts are no more the answer than our virtue, “for whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and he knows everything” (1 John 3:20). Our hope, then, is not found in the virtue of our lives or the sincerity of our hearts, but in Christ himself, who has accomplished our salvation entirely apart from us.
To emphasize morality and virtue must come with much wisdom and discretion.
We are promised that the life of the justified - or life in the Spirit - will be one with virtue and good works. Therefore we are free to discuss the shape and effects of virtues including humility, charity, chastity, meekness, kindness and the rest. But to emphasize morality and virtue must come with much wisdom and discretion. Ideally, I would argue such an emphasis should also come sandwiched between proclamations of the gospel in order to remind us that neither our success nor our failures at achieving the good life have any claim over our status before God.
For those looking for order amidst our chaotic world, Christian virtue can offer a safe haven. But such respite must never come at the cost of the gospel. While prudence, justice, courage and self-control may give us a roadmap through our wilderness, only the blood of the Lamb shed for the sins of our world brings us into the promised land: the land flowing with milk and honey where striving ceases and at last the redeemed and righteous will live forever in glory and perfect virtue.
