Martin Luther (1483–1546), the German monk turned
reformer and Bible translator, inherited the diverse spiritual, historical, and
polemical traditions of earlier generations. During his career, he dealt with
Revelation in several different ways, all of which appear in various forms
today.
First, Luther dismissed Revelation as a book that was of
little value for Christian faith and life. His rejection stemmed in part from
his recognition of the book’s power to draw people into dangerous
speculations about the future. In December of 1521, for example, three
radical preachers from the town of Zwickau arrived in Wittenberg, where Luther
taught. They claimed unmediated divine inspiration, renounced infant baptism,
and proclaimed the imminent end of the world. In 1522, following the turbulence
created by the radicals, Luther published a preface to his German translation
of Revelation that roundly declared it “to be neither apostolic nor prophetic,”
and that Luther could “in no way detect that the Holy Spirit produced it.” Not
only did Revelation’s visionary language confuse readers, but Luther declared
that “Christ is neither taught nor known in it.” Therefore, he advised people
to stick to the biblical books that present Christ clearly.
Second, Luther later engaged in decoding Revelation in
light of the political events of his own time. In 1530, he published a second
preface to Revelation that treated Revelation as a map of history between
Christ’s first and second comings. Some interpreters in the later Middle
Ages noted that Revelation began with messages for churches in the first
century (Revelation 1–3) and it ended with a vision of the New Jerusalem
(Revelation 21–22). They inferred that the intervening chapters must cover the
centuries in between. Luther adopted this approach, calculating, for example,
that the angels in Revelation 8–9 represented the heretics of antiquity, such
as Marcion, Montanus, and Novatian. His own continuing conflict with Rome, and
the joint attempts of the pope and emperor to dominate affairs in Germany,
convinced him that the beasts from sea and land in Revelation 13 and 17 were
the papal empire. Earlier interpreters sometimes identified individual popes or
emperors with the beast, but Luther went further, identifying the beast and
harlot with the papacy itself. Moreover, the relentless advance of Turkish armies
into Europe suggested that they might be Gog and Magog, who were expected to
threaten the faithful in the end-times (20:8).
Finally, however, Luther’s most significant comments ask
about the function of Revelation’s imagery. In his often neglected
conclusion to the second preface, Luther shifts from decoding Revelation to
asking about how the book addresses readers with a message of warning and
promise. As a warning, Revelation shows that the church will be marked by so
many tribulations and heresies that it will be unrecognizable. The survey of
history that Luther provided earlier in the preface showed that such
afflictions were not unique to one period but characterized the church’s life
on earth. Therefore, Revelation warns readers not to be deceived into despair
by this impression. As a promise, Revelation assures readers that if “the word
of the gospel remains pure among us, and we love and cherish it, we shall not
doubt that Christ is with us, even when things are at their worst.” For
“through and beyond all plagues, beasts, and evil angels, Christ is nonetheless
with his saints and wins the final victory.” These final comments provide a
helpful alternative to dismissing Revelation’s message or reducing it to a
code, by focusing instead on the central message that encourages faith.
--- Craig R. Koester, Revelation and the End of All
Things. 2018
