Augsburg Confession – Article 3 – The Son of God

Articles 3, 4 & 5 of the Augsburg Confession in the Book of Concord of 1580

(To read Article 2, click here.)

We likewise teach that God the Son has become human,1 born from the pure virgin Mary,2 and that the two natures, the divine and the human, inseparably united in one person in this way, are one Christ, who is true God and true human. He truly was born, suffered, was crucified, died, and was buried, so as to be be a sacrifice not just for inherited sin but also for all other sins, and thus to appease God’s wrath. We likewise teach that this same Christ descended into hell, truly rose from the dead on the third day,3 ascended into heaven, and is sitting at the right hand of God, that he might rule eternally over all creatures. He also sits at God’s right hand to govern in such a way as to sanctify, purify, strengthen, and comfort through the Holy Spirit all who believe in him, and to give them life and impart all sorts of gifts and blessings to them, and to defend and protect them against the devil and sin. We likewise teach that this same Lord Christ will publicly appear in the end to judge the living and the dead, etc., in accordance with the Apostles’ Creed.

(To continue to Article 4, click here.)

Notes

1 Sometimes Christians are unnecessarily disturbed by the translation “to become human” instead of “to become man” for Mensch werden, because they think it constitutes a covert denial of the gender God’s Son assumed. First, no such denial is intended with this translation. Jesus was a male human being in keeping with the prophecies made about him (e.g. Isaiah 7:14; 9:6). Second, “to become man” is an unfaithful translation (except in the rare case, such as in a poetic context, where a person immediately understands man in its broader sense), because that is simply not what the German phrase means. Mensch is the generic word for a human, like ἄνθρωπος in Greek. (This fact is not helped by such idiomatic sayings in English as, “Now you’re a real Mensch,” when the person means to say, “Now you’re a real man.”) Third, theologically, Jesus was the atoning substitute and sacrifice for all humanity, both men and women, and thus it is entirely appropriate to emphasize his humanity more than his maleness, though there are certainly occasions when talking about his maleness is in order.

2 Mary is called “pure” in reference to both her virginity and the spiritual purity she enjoyed in the sight of God through faith in the coming Messiah (the same purity all enjoy who believe in Jesus as their Savior). In the Latin version she is called “the blessed virgin Mary,” a concept that is taken straight from the Scriptures (Luke 1:48).

3 Melanchthon almost seems to have anticipated the spiritualizing of Christ’s resurrection that takes place especially within mainline Protestant church bodies today. For instance, in Easter of 2016, Gerhard Ulrich, the chief bishop of the United Evangelical Lutheran Church of Germany, a fellowship of a number of German state churches in fellowship with the ELCA, published an Easter message in a church newspaper. In the article he said that Jesus decomposed like any other person, declaring point-blank: “Jesus is dead.” But, Ulrich asserted, that which was “divine” in Jesus, namely his ideas and his zeal and his commitment to life, continues to live because his disciples wanted it to. And they then experienced a “resurrection,” because they no longer hid themselves away from the Jews in fear and despair, but saw to it that the cause of Jesus continued. See also the 2009 survey of pastors in Wisconsin from the ELCA, LC-MS, WELS, ELS, and CLC in which the participants were asked to state whether they agreed with this statement, among others: “The resurrection of Jesus Christ was a bodily, physical resurrection.”

Caspar Neumann’s Meditation on Death

Translator’s Preface

Pieter Schenk, Caspar Neumann, copperplate engraving. Neumann was called the “Chrysostom of Breslau” for his preaching ability.

Caspar Neumann’s (1648-1715) hymn, “Liebster Gott, wenn werd ich sterben,” did gain some ground in German Lutheran hymnody – including in the Wisconsin Synod’s German hymnal, where, however, it was titled “Lieber Gott, wenn werd ich sterben.” But its fame consists primarily in the fact that Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750) chose it as the basis for the cantata he composed for the 16th Sunday after Trinity, September 24, 1724. (He had just been hired as the St. Thomas Cantor in Leipzig the previous year.) Considering that Neumann had passed away less than 10 years earlier, and had only composed this hymn perhaps 30 years earlier (c. 1690), this was a high compliment from the great composer.

Bach selected Neumann’s hymn text in light of the Gospel appointed for that Sunday, Luke 7:11-17, the account of Jesus raising the son of the widow who lived in Nain. Bach simply incorporated sts. 1 & 5 into the cantata as they were, for the first and sixth movements (opening chorus and closing chorale), respectively. The remaining stanzas were paraphrased and reworked into different schemes by an as-yet unknown poet:

  • Original st. 2 (AB AB CC DD, 87 87 77 88) – 2nd movement (Tenor Aria; AB AAB, 98 998)
  • Original st. 3 – 3rd movement (Alto Recitative; AAB CCB DE DE, 649 687 69 65)
  • Original st. 4 – 4th movement (Bass Aria; AB CC AB, 12-11 5-5 12-11) and 5th movement (Soprano Recitative; AA BCCB DEED, 9-11 8-10-8-10 9-8-8-5)

I have retained the meter of the original in my translation, but my rhyme scheme is slightly different – AB CB DD EE.

The usual tune originally suggested was “Freu dich sehr” (used, e.g., with “Comfort, Comfort All My People”). I would also suggest “Der am Kreuz” (used, e.g., with “Jesus, Grant that Balm and Healing”). You can read the original German text along with a prose translation here. You can listen to a performance of the cantata here.

May Neumann’s meditation on death lead us to see what blessings, comfort, and assurance we have in Christ Jesus, and thus become our own meditation.

Dearest God, When Will Death Meet Me

1. Dearest God, when will death meet me?
Precious time keeps slipping by,
And heirs of the sinful nature,
With whose number, too, am I,
Have from Adam as their lot
But a brief and fleeting slot
On this earth to live in sorrow,
Ere becoming earth tomorrow.

2. I wish not to meet unwilling
The conclusion of my time;
Mortal seeds sown in my members
Guarantee their passing prime,
Not to mention without fail
One and all go down death’s trail,
Many loved ones not omitted,
Who to graves are now committed.

3. Yet, O God, what questions anxious
Shall I raise when death draws near?
Where shall my cold frame be buried?
Where shall then my soul appear?
How my worries swell and soar!
Who’ll assume my treasure store?
Where shall all my loved ones scatter,
While I turn to earthly matter?

4. Stop! What right have I to worry,
Since I’ll go to Jesus’ side?
Better now ’twould be than later,
For my flesh shall be revived.
Pardon glad, world, I bestow
That you keep my goods below;
To my heirs I am supplying
God, a giver never dying.

5. Lord of life and death, I pray you,
Let my end a good one be.
Teach me to give up my spirit
With devout serenity.
Grant that I a decent grave
Next to faithful Christians have,
And at last, with ground my cover,
All disgrace may then be over.

Luther Visualized 15 – Treasures of the Reformation

The Law and the Gospel

Lucas Cranach the Elder, Allegory of Law and Grace, oil on panel, after 1529; housed in the Germanisches Nationalmuseum, Nuremberg

I am posting this out of order; it was originally intended to be the last post in this series. However, it is fitting to post it on this day commemorating the 500th anniversary of the Lutheran Reformation.

There are any number of treasures or hallmarks of the Reformation that could be highlighted on this day—the three solas, as just one example. But in 1549, three years after Luther’s death, when a young Martin Chemnitz accompanied his relative Georg Sabinus on a trip to Wittenberg and “in a letter written in Greek” asked Philipp Melanchthon “to show [him] a method of properly instituting and shaping the study of theology,” Melanchthon gave a response that bespoke Luther’s lasting influence on him. He “replied that the chief light and best method in theological study was to observe the distinction between the Law and the Gospel.”

If a person could only be given one piece of advice before opening and reading the Bible on his own, this would indeed be the best. There are two main teachings in the Bible, the Law and the Gospel. The Law shows us our sin and how we should live. It shows us that we can never measure up to God on our own, and therefore it threatens, terrifies, and condemns us and thereby prepares us for the Gospel. The Gospel shows us our Savior Jesus and how he has lived and died for us. It showcases God’s gracious promises to us, and so it comforts, assures, and saves us. This distinction is the single greatest aid for reading and understanding the Bible. As the apostle John wrote, “The law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ” (John 1:17). And if there is one piece of artwork that correctly and beautifully captures that distinction, yes, encapsulates all of the Reformation’s and confessional Lutheranism’s theology, this painting by Cranach is it.

The left half of the painting depicts the Law. The defenseless sinner is driven by death and the devil towards eternal destruction in hell, having been judged guilty by Jesus, enthroned in heaven above as Judge of the world. The man was unable to keep God’s law and earn God’s favor because of original sin, inherited as a result of Adam and Eve’s fall into sin, portrayed in the background. In the foreground on the right, the chief prophet Moses, holding the two tables of God’s law, explains to the other Old Testament prophets that the Law can only condemn and hope must be sought elsewhere. The tree on the right is bare, representing how the Tree of Life is not accessible to fallen mankind by his own powers, or how fallen mankind is spiritually dead and can produce no good fruits (works pleasing to God).

The right half of the painting depicts the Gospel. Jesus is portrayed not as Judge of the world, but as the Savior of the world. John the Baptist points the defenseless sinner to Jesus, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29) through the atoning sacrifice of his life on behalf of sinners. Through this good news, the Holy Spirit, represented by a dove, instills faith in the sinner’s heart, and thus the sinner receives the benefits of Jesus’ sacrifice; the sinfulness of his heart is covered by Jesus’ blood. The rest of the panel depicts, for the most part, scenes from Jesus’ life. In the background, instead of judging from heaven, he comes down from heaven to share in our humanity and suffer our condemnation in our place (the incarnation in the womb of the virgin Mary). In the foreground, Jesus’ resurrection from the dead is portrayed as the ultimate proof of his victory over death, the skeleton under his left foot, and the devil, the dragon under his right foot. In the upper right hand corner, Jesus ascends into heaven, the nail-marks in his feet still showing. The counterpart to the serpent’s tempting and mankind’s fall into sin in the left half is the prefiguring or foreshadowing of Jesus’ redeeming work through the bronze serpent on the pole (Numbers 21:4-9) in the right half. “Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life” (John 3:14,15). The tree in this panel is leafy, representing how the Tree of Life is accessible to fallen mankind through faith in Jesus, or how the one who believes in Jesus has spiritual life and produces good fruits.

What God does in his law demand
And none to him can render
Brings wrath and woe on every hand
For man, the vile offender.
Our flesh has not those pure desires
The spirit of the law requires,
And lost is our condition.

Yet as the law must be fulfilled
Or we must die despairing,
Christ came and has God’s anger stilled,
Our human nature sharing.
He has for us the law obeyed
And thus the Father’s vengeance stayed
Which over us impended.

Since Christ has full atonement made
And brought to us salvation,
Each Christian therefore may be glad
And build on this foundation.
Your grace alone, dear Lord, I plead;
Your death is now my life indeed,
For you have paid my ransom. – Paul Speratus, 1523

Today is an anniversary celebration like none other. Happy Reformation Day, dear readers!

Sources
August L. Graebner, “An Autobiography of Martin Kemnitz” in Theological Quarterly, vol. 3, no. 4 (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, October 1899), p. 480

Cranach Digital Archive here and here

Christian Worship: A Lutheran Hymnal (Milwaukee: Northwestern Publishing House, 1993), #390

Quote of the Week – Commands and Promises

Similar Paintings

Hans Holbein the Younger, Allegory on Law and Grace, oil on oak panel, early 1530s; housed in the Scottish National Gallery

Hans Holbein the Younger (c. 1497-1543) was a renowned artist and contemporary and sympathizer of Luther. This painting, clearly influenced by Cranach’s above, is usually titled An Allegory of the Old and New Testaments or even The Old and the New Law, but the painting itself clearly identifies its contrast between the law (lex) and grace (gratia). (The painting correctly shows that both the Old and the New Testaments proclaim grace in Christ.) On the left the two tables of the law are given from heaven to Moses. The law makes us conscious of our sin (peccatum; Romans 3:20; 7:7-13), inherited from Adam as a result of the fall into sin (Romans 5:12-19). The wages of sin is death (mors; Romans 6:23). Nevertheless our justification was foreshadowed (mysterium justificationis) through the bronze serpent erected on the pole (Numbers 21:4-9), and Isaiah the prophet (Esayas propheta) foretold of salvation through the coming Christ (“Behold, a virgin will conceive and bear a son [Ecce virgo concipiet et pariet filium]” – Isaiah 7:14).

At the center of the painting is man (homo). “Wretched man that I am, who will deliver me from this body subject to death [Miser ego homo, quis me eripiet ex hoc corpore morti obnoxio]?” – Romans 7:24.

On the right, John the Baptist (Ioannes Baptista) points sinful man to Jesus, the Lamb of God (Agnus Dei), who takes away the sin of the world (Ecce agnus ille Dei, qui tollit peccatum mundi – John 1:29). His coming down from heaven to take on human flesh in the womb of the virgin Mary is the token of God’s grace. An angel announces Jesus’ birth to the shepherds in the valley below. Jesus as the living bread who came down from heaven (John 6:51) on the right side is the antitype to the bread that was rained down from heaven on the Israelite camp in the wilderness, depicted on the left side (Psalm 78:23-25). As an adult, Jesus is explaining to his disciples that he came to seek and to save what was lost and that he must suffer, die, and rise again in order to do so (Mark 8:31; Luke 19:10). His crucifixion is pictured as our justification or acquittal from sin (justificatio nostra) and his resurrection from the dead as our victory (victoria nostra) over death and the devil (Romans 4:25; 1 Corinthians 15:54-57).

Lucas Cranach the Younger, Middle Panel of the Epitaph Altar for John Frederick the Magnanimous in the Parish Church of St. Peter and Paul in Weimar, oil on lindenwood panel, 1555.

Duke John Frederick I of Saxony commissioned the work to the left a couple years before his death. Lucas Cranach himself died the following year, so the project was taken up and completed by his son. 1 John 1:7; Hebrews 4:16; and John 3:14,15 are printed on the pages of Martin Luther’s open Bible. John the Baptist points to Christ with his finger; Luther points to him with his gaze. Cranach the Elder painted himself in between the two, with Christ’s blood spilling onto his head. (He has made himself the counterpart to “the defenseless sinner” of his earlier painting.) His gaze is directed at the viewer, inviting him or her to worship Christ as Savior with him. The other unique detail is the angel flying in midair in the background over the shepherds, which has a double allusion. The first allusion is to the angel who announced the birth of Christ. This second allusion, indicated by the scroll he holds, is to Revelation 14:6,7. Johannes Bugenhagen, the pastor of the parish church in Wittenberg, preached on those verses for Luther’s funeral and identified Luther as the angel or messenger mentioned there. (Subsequent Lutheran preachers have also not shied away from that identification, though they also apply it to any Christian who faithfully proclaims the gospel.) The words printed on the victory banner borne by the lamb beneath the cross are those of John 1:29. The other details correspond exactly to Cranach’s earlier painting above.