As the title of this work suggests, Eric Leland Saak offers an evaluation of the late medieval program of reformation, specifically locating Martin Luther within the reform efforts of the Augustinian friars (OESA). In this regard, Saak is building upon his 2002 study, High Way to Heaven: The Augustinian Platform Between Reform and Reformation, 1292–1524 (Brill), which is frequently cited in the footnotes. Luther emerges here as a pious late medieval friar, yet one only weakly formed in the traditions of his order and thus largely ignorant of its own great theologians, most notably Giles of Rome. Saak does devote a considerable amount of space to some lesser known Augustinians, such as Jordan of Quedlinburg and Arnoldus Cancrinus. Ample space is also devoted to the constitutions of the order and the reform program spearheaded by Giles of Viterbo. Sections devoted to the Augustinians account for some of the most deeply researched and informative parts of the book.
Luther, of course, receives much attention in his own right. Saak delves into the perennial discussion regarding the dating of Luther's great “breakthrough,” examining in minute detail a question that has taken on almost mythical proportions. Departing from modern scholars, such Oberman and Brecht, who maintain that Luther discovered the liberating principle of passive righteousness circa 1518, Saak pushes the date earlier to 1514 at the time of the first set of Psalms lectures. Saak's interest in the dating is important to his larger argument that Luther's true Reformation discovery did not turn on matters of soteriology but rather ecclesiology: more precisely, his conclusion that the papal office is itself an enemy of the Gospel. It is in this vein that Saak contends Luther's soteriology did not, in fact, constitute a break with either the theology embraced by his Augustinian predecessors nor with the larger exegetical tradition evinced already in the twelfth-century Glossa Ordinaria. Here, though, Saak has overreached. This is a position reminiscent of those who argue that if Luther had only read Thomas Aquinas directly, rather than filtered through later scholastic abbreviations, he would have found the theology of grace that he was looking for. In Saak's case, Luther should have been reading more deeply the works of his own order. Yet even the most adamant proponents of the “Catholic Luther” must admit that his teaching on passive righteousness, which constitutes the sinner presently righteous in the sight of God for the sake of Christ alone apart from good works, marks a significant departure from the medieval tradition. Indeed, it was immediately recognized as such by the Dominican theologian Thomas Cajetan, who regarded the Lutheran “simul ius et peccator” principle as illogical. Others, such as the Dominican Martin Bucer, quickly warmed to Luther's theology, but it constituted a rupture nonetheless.
It is true that there were debates in the first half of the fourteenth century as to whether God could by his absolute power (de potentia dei absoluta) accept someone who lacked the habit of grace. But these remained speculative questions, and no one concluded that in actuality (de potentia dei ordinata) such a thing was possible. Luther really was on to something new when he dispensed with the infused habits of grace and charity. Similarly, even the fiercest defenders of predestination “ante praevisa merita,” such as the Augustinian Gregory of Rimini, were chiefly concerned with shoring up bedrock principles of divine freedom and omnipotence rather than considering man's righteousness before God. Moreover, their discussions of merit in its different forms (de congruo/de condigno) nevertheless retained the fundamentals of a reward-based economy of salvation, which Luther pointedly abandoned. In search of an ally for Luther here, perhaps Saak might have given more space to Johann von Staupitz, who is a bit neglected in this study. And with regard to the exegetical tradition, there is no doubt that one can cite isolated comments on the Pauline Epistles which seemingly support a “sola fide” theology; indeed, some texts of Paul almost demand such glosses. Yet whether it is Peter Lombard or Nicholas of Lyra, the medieval commentators in one form or another upheld a “fides caritate formata” theology, which was itself ratified at the Council of Trent. The closest person in the medieval tradition to Luther was perhaps the Cistercian William of St. Thierry, and even that may be a stretch.
All of the above is fodder for further discussion and yields no iron-clad answers. Any misgivings I may have about this study do not turn on matters of interpretation, however, but organization. There does not appear to be a consistent thread of argumentation running through this book. A stated point that Saak wished to emphasize was that a genuine late medieval reformation had been underway for two hundred years before Luther came on the scene and that it ultimately failed; despite the best efforts of religious superiors, theologians, and bishops, Christendom could not be reformed. The question that remained was whether Luther's Reformation also failed. To his credit, Saak does not rehearse the tired decline-and-fall narrative that lays all the blame at the feet of Duns Scotus. Neither, however, does Saak consistently pursue his own thesis. Blocks of analysis follow one after the other without properly forming a larger coherent picture. Saak seems to be aware of this himself at times, as when he summarizes the variant ecclesiologies of Marsilius of Padua, Giles of Rome, James of Viterbo, and Augustinus of Ancona while admitting that there is no evidence Luther read any of them. It is true that Eck had accused Luther of being a disciple of Marsilius, but Saak does not take the next step to offer a sustained analysis of the Leipzig Disputation or Luther's Proposition Thirteen regarding the papacy. Saak also discusses Luther's famous remarks, having read Jan Hus's De ecclesia, that he and Staupitz had been unwitting Hussites all along. Yet Luther knew well what ultimately separated himself from both Wyclif and Hus: they had sought the path of moral reform “in capite et membris” while his own reformation struck at the heart of church doctrine. Their attempts failed, therefore, precisely because they had misdiagnosed the nature of the disease. Did Luther's reformation thus succeed? Unfortunately, Saak's concluding chapter on the “Failure of Reformation” is a diffuse meditation lacking the concise analysis one might have hoped for given the expressed aspirations of this otherwise well-researched, informative, and often interesting book.
