As the five-hundredth anniversary of the Protestant Reformation approaches, we can expect a whole raft of new Luther biographies. Martin Luther: visionary reformer, written by one of leading Reformation scholars in North America, will surely be among the most important – it is a truly impressive achievement. Scott Hendrix, Emeritus Professor of Reformation History at Princeton Theological Seminary, provides a learned, accessible and engaging introduction to the father of the Protestant Reformation. In the preface Hendrix identifies three ‘touchstones’ that have guided him in the challenging task of writing a Luther biography:

Hendrix proceeds chronologically, examining Luther from birth to death – unlike many Luther biographies, this one covers the whole span of the reformer's life.

In keeping with his stated touchstones, Hendrix situates Luther squarely in the world of late medieval and early modern Europe, providing a rich and finely textured historical analysis that draws on archaeological evidence and the history of material culture, as well as on more traditional political, economic and religious examinations of the period. We learn about Luther's childhood toys, early diet and daily monastic regimen, along with the defining characteristics of his theology. Hendrix takes special care to stress the numerous human relationships that were formative for Luther throughout his life, and thus for the shape and progress of the Protestant Reformation. Although Hendrix is also a trained family therapist, he avoids importing Freudian analysis into the sixteenth century when examining Luther's relationship with his parents, preferring to stress that ‘young man Luther’ was, on the whole, a fairly balanced and normal person who had a supportive and loving home life. Instead, Hendrix notes how frequent and important Luther's contact with his extended family was after he left home, and how essential his relationships with figures such as John Lang, John Staupitz, George Spalatin, Philipp Melanchthon and, of course, his beloved Katie, were for his work as a reformer. The overall effect of this historicising of Luther is to render him fully human.

One of Hendrix's central aims is to demythologise the reformer. After he examines Luther's years in Erfurt and subsequent transfer to Wittenberg, in which he shows how relationships with teachers and fellow friars shaped him in both places, Hendrix asserts that

The truth, according to Hendrix, is that Luther arrived at his ‘new’ theology gradually and in concert with others, and that early on he was not a reformer at all, not until 1521. Prior to this time Luther was an earnest, intelligent, but fairly typical Augustinian friar, preacher and professor who was simply trying to promote sound (i.e. humanistic) Christian learning and true Christian devotion. Luther did not become a reformer when he posted the ninety-five theses, which, Hendrix allows, likely took place (p. 61). Rather, Luther began to adopt a reformer-persona when he started to conceive a vision for the reform of Christendom, which he initially articulated in the Address to the Christian nobility of the German nation in 1520. Hendrix argues that with the publication of this work, which was prompted by growing papal opposition to Luther's theology – especially its implications for papal authority – ‘Luther had turned a corner’ (p. 89). But he still was not a reformer, not even after his excommunication and appearance at the Diet of Worms (1521). The ‘decisive turning point … happened at the Wartburg’, where Luther retreated after Worms (p. 115). Hendrix locates this turning point in Luther's A judgment on monastic vows, which he wrote at the Wartburg. In this text Luther asserts for the first time, ‘I am subject to no one but him [i.e., Christ] alone’ (p. 114). It was at the Wartburg that Luther ‘adopted a new identity and a new purpose that he believed to have come from God. It was based on a vision of what Christianity could become – a vision he was intent on pursuing’ (p. 115). Thus, it was at the Wartburg that Luther became a reformer and the ‘reformation’ began, clearly one of the most intriguing claims of the book. (Throughout, Hendrix adopts the curious convention of referring to the Reformation as the ‘reformation’, even though he also speaks of ‘the Protestant Reformation’ and ‘the German Reformation’.)

Luther's vision consisted of a renewed form of Christianity that eschewed the alleged do-ut-des mentality of medieval Christianity. According to Hendrix, medieval Christianity was a largely moralistic religion that stressed the importance of currying favour with God by rendering service to God through various good works. In its place, Luther sought to plant a Christianity that stressed inward devotion, faith, spiritual freedom, love of neighbour and divine grace (pp. 233–4). Hendrix allows for very little such evangelical religion in the later Middle Ages, despite what scholars such as Berndt Hamm have argued to the contrary. The rest of the volume examines Luther's efforts to realise this vision, especially in the midst of other evangelical visions that opposed his own. Along the way Hendrix provides illuminating discussions of the German Peasants’ War, Luther's marriage and family life, the Augsburg Confession and Luther's scandalous treatises against the Jews, to name but a few topics, and he treats each with great care, expertise and fair-mindedness.

Hendrix has done his work very well; this is a masterful treatment of Luther that thoroughly succeeds in demythologising him. It should be noted, though, that some important aspects of Luther's life that do not fit well with Hendrix's purpose receive rather scant attention. This is especially the case where Luther's spiritual trials in the monastery are concerned. Hendrix's acknowledges that Luther struggled with a guilty conscience (p. 37) and that his Reformation discovery provided him with ‘keen personal relief’ (p. 53), but he downplays both the depth and the importance of these Anfechtungen, presumably because they suggest that there was something unique (even unbalanced) about the early Luther, something that set him apart from others who were similarly religiously earnest. Here is how Luther described this turmoil in Explanations of the Ninety-Five Theses (1518). He begins with a reference to the Apostle Paul's account of his ascent to the third heaven in 2 Corinthians xii.2 and then writes, clearly referring to himself,

This afflicted Luther does not appear very often in Martin Luther: visionary reformer, and yet we know that he existed.

Hendrix's treatment of the Reformation discovery also suggests that Luther's theological breakthrough(s) should not be seen as the novel achievement of the heroic great man. He reports that justification by faith was new to Luther, but that in Luther's eyes it was not new to Christianity; Luther thought he was simply re-discovering Pauline soteriology as interpreted by Augustine (p. 53). Hendrix does not comment on whether Luther was justified in making this claim, which is controversial, to say the least. Many Luther scholars would say that Luther's account of both human sin and divine grace was actually quite radical when seen in the context even of the Augustinian tradition, let alone the Christian tradition itself. Hendrix certainly knows this, and he does say that justification by faith directly contradicted the (alleged) moralistic spirit of medieval Christianity, but his treatment of the Reformation discovery still downplays its novelty and radicality.

Finally, a word about the title of Hendrix's biography is in order. Hendrix was trained by Heiko Oberman, who was one of the deans of Reformation Studies in North American and Europe until his death in 2001. Oberman argued in Luther: man between God and the devil (1983/89) that Luther did not see himself as a reformer; rather, he thought that he was a prophet of God's reformation in the Last Days. Oberman's Luther is not the mythical Luther whom Hendrix seeks to debunk, but he is a Luther who was possessed of unique spiritual sensitivities and who experienced unprecedented depths of spiritual travail and also unique heights of spiritual joy – Oberman's Luther is a radical Luther. Hendrix has been critical of Oberman's Luther-as-apocalyptic-prophet interpretation in the past,Footnote ² and here he presents us with his Luther-as-visionary-reformer alternative. Hendrix's biography does not read as a direct refutation of Oberman's work, and Hendrix acknowledges the apocalyptic nature of Luther's outlook. But he finally wishes to emphasise that Luther had a positive vision for the thoroughgoing reform of Church and Society that he tirelessly pursued during his lifetime; he was not a solitary prophet who looked for the imminent return of the Lord, at least not in the first place – he was a reformer. Hendrix concedes that Luther never actually referred to himself as a reformer (p. 152), and one might question whether the title ‘reformer’ adequately captures the radical self-understanding of a man who believed that he was answerable to Christ alone – this does sound more like a prophet. Still, in Martin Luther: visionary reformer, Hendrix contributes directly to the Obermanian project of demolishing the myth of Luther as the first modern man by depicting him as a human being who was firmly rooted in the pre-modern world.