Religion and Politics—From the Perspective of Lutheran Christianity

Abstract

Protestant Christianity has, from the 16th century onward, developed an understanding of politics and the state that gives it a strong and independent role. This was the result of a process of differentiation between religion and politics, which strengthened both sides. In this paper, the result is described: how the state and how politics are understood within Protestant Christianity, what consequences this has and what misunderstandings can occur. Special explanation is given to the Lutheran concept of the two regiments of God. The peculiarities of the Protestant state concept are then further described with the Lutheran understanding of the social state and of the military service of Christians.

1. Religious Policy

Martin Luther’s theology1, developed during the 16th-century Reformation, offers an attractive and relevant theological conception of politics, especially for the general consideration of the relation between politics and religion. This conception concerns not only traditions stemming from the Reformation but also has fundamental global significance. This is especially true as the counterpart to Luther’s conception of the relationship between religion and politics is gaining worldwide popularity, namely, a religious politics.2

In large swaths of Europe, the connection between religion and politics has been largely ignored for the last century, although the various denominational forms of Christianity have continued to have a lasting influence. Explicit public political debate has been devoid of religious influence. The reasons for the lack of religion in politics are many and varied in the different regions and countries of Europe, which has been altered since 2001. Since then, there has been a so-called “renaissance of public discourse on religion” in many European societies, although without there being a “renaissance of religion.” Renewed attention on the topic of “religion” in the West has significantly increased, given the religious terrorism in 2001, or, rather, one might also claim that religious frameworks on politics were created then. The phenomenon of “religious politics,” which is not entirely new, has thus received renewed attention and has rightly been analysed as a political threat in the Western world.

The Bosnian philosopher Samir Arnautovic published an insightful, and to a certain extent, internal analysis of “religious politics” and the associated problems in 2010 with reference to Bosnia-Herzegovina and the Western Balkan states in general, in an essay entitled “Religious Politics. The anti-integrative discourse as a discourse of a pre-modern age that came too late.” (Arnautovic 2010, pp. 31–38). According to Arnautovic, “politics…[is] ideologically grounded in religion, while the religious relationship has no obligation towards political action, since its position, with regard to its grounding in the transcendental, is predominant over social reality.” (Arnautovic 2010, p. 33) Arnautovic provides a comprehensive description of the social and religious mechanisms that make this dominance of religion over politics possible: the recruitment of politically active people in religious institutions, the special religious position that clergymen and politicians ascribe to each other, among others.

Philosophically, the central problem of such politics or this religious-political concept is that “modernity is understood exclusively in the technological sense…while the conceptual and intellectual discourse is hardly touched.” (Arnautovic 2010, p. 32) Formally, there are democratic, power-sharing and constitutional structures, but in fact the relevant actors are engaged in pre-modern politics—personally orientated, network-like, and religious. Arnautovic wittingly observes: “Therefore, in the countries of the world Balkans, a political dissolution is taking place both in relation to the state and in relation to the religious communities that support this policy, while at the same time there are people who live in complete misery and whom no one helps.” (Arnautovic 2010, p. 33f) According to Arnautovic, it is also part of the religious policy in his country, which is pursued in variations by all three religious communities, that misery is maintained and permanently promoted. Politics is not understood as the elimination of misery but is given a “role as a seeker of truth,” during which conditions are to be created “for a better, non-real and borderless world” (Arnautovic 2010, p. 34)—in other words, a religiously conceived world. These complicated relations have fatal consequences for society and its citizens, which Arnautovic clearly indicates.

Upon closer examination, there are similarly construed religious politics—in many variations, of course—in several contemporary societies. One example is worth mentioning here. One of the research projects at my institute has worked with the coexistence of Buddhists and Christians in Myanmar. Myanmar is one of the five Asian countries, Sri Lanka, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Myanmar, characterised by a distinctive form of Buddhism, namely, Theravada Buddhism, a form of Buddhism with a clear political concept. The long-standing civil war in Sri Lanka between the Buddhist Sinhalese and the Hindu and Christian Tamils can ultimately only be understood against the background of the political dimensions of Theravada Buddhism. This is just like the imperial colonisation of the Tamil settlement areas with Buddhist monasteries that has been taking place since the end of the civil war in 2009.

In 2017, the German newspaper, Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (Fähnders 2017), published a photo of the entire military government in Thailand prostrating in front of the new King Maha Vajiralongkorn. The patience with which these countries bravely endure their almost intolerable governments is not only rooted in Buddhist spirituality but also in the social, societal construction of Theravada Buddhism. This assigns a high religious role to those in power and legitimises their exercise of power in the overall religious system. Many more examples of religious politics—like the influence of Hindutva on Indian politics—of varying kinds can be seen in the world today. Religious politics, with its highly problematic combination of religion and politics, is not only found in the Islamic countries, which our project has focused on particularly in recent years, but also in the Christian minorities living there, who suffer because of the repressive tolerance often associated with the political and religious enmeshment. The essay now turns to an outline of Martin Luther’s conception of the relationship between politics and religion, or state and church, to clarify why Luther’s conception remains globally significant.

2. The Relationship Between Politics and Religion in Martin Luther

The centre of Luther’s idea of the relationship between politics and religion is what is known as his ‘doctrine of the two kingdoms.’ To some, the doctrine seems to contribute to the self-secularisation of Christianity. However, in the context of Martin Luther’s theology, it is a thoroughly religious, theological concept. Particularly when compared with other religious conceptions of the relationship between politics and religion, one sees how Luther’s differentiation of politics and religion was also based on his theology and his Protestant understanding of religion. The following explication explores this reliance using several aspects of Luther’s theology.

Luther’s doctrine of the two kingdoms, which was not named as such until the 1930s, was based both on a distinction made by the fifth-century church father Augustine between the kingdom of God and the secular kingdom, as well as on various medieval theories in which politics and religion were intertwined. However, Luther’s doctrine of the two kingdoms or two realms was oriented quite differently. The 1530 Augsburg Confession also clearly states that “the power of the Church and the civil power must not be confounded” (Augsburg Confession 1530), which is emphasised by the fact that the spiritual realm of the church is to be carried out without any violence. The old two-sword theory was thus obsolete, given that the sword no longer aligned with the spiritual power, not even figuratively. According to Luther, the sword, as an expression of the possibility of the use of force, belongs entirely in the hands of the secular state government. He formulated the concept briefly and clearly in his 1526 writing “Whether Soldiers Too, Can be Saved.” According to Luther:

God has established two kinds of government among men. The one is spiritual; it has the word, by means of which men are to become good and righteous, so that with this righteousness they may attain eternal life. He administers this righteousness through the word, which he has committed to the preachers. The other kind is worldly government, which works through the sword so that those who do not want to be good and righteous to eternal life may be forced to become good and righteous in the eyes of the world. He administers this righteousness through the sword… [through the] office of the sword.

(Luther 1967)

For Luther, both the spiritual and the temporal kingdoms are God’s greatest gifts on earth. For precisely this reason, the two are to be clearly distinguished from each other and not confounded—neither into a religious, ideological policy nor into a politically controlled religion. Thus, the religious realm, the ecclesiastical power, is not to “transfer the kingdoms of this world; let it not abrogate the laws of civil rulers; let it not abolish lawful obedience; let it not interfere with judgments concerning civil ordinances or contracts; let it not prescribe laws to civil rulers concerning the form of the Commonwealth.” (Augsburg Confession 1530)

Luther and the theology of the Reformation would be misunderstood if one were to conclude from this demarcation of politics and religion that religion should be completely unconnected to state and society and that the religious, ecclesiastical sphere of life would be best understood as unrelated to the state, political sphere of life. Due to a gross misunderstanding of the Reformation’s doctrine of the two realms, some Lutheran factions supported the National Socialist dictatorship in Germany. Moreover, according to Eberhard Jüngel, “in the real existing socialism, a number of GDR’s public theologians similarly invoked the doctrine of the two kingdoms, protecting the dictatorial abuse of power from ecclesiastical objection.” (Jüngel 2003)

Luther’s doctrine of the two kingdoms was not intended to divide the world or the people’s lives into two separate realms of politics and religion. Rather, Luther wanted to emphasise the previously hidden unity of the world in such a way that God rules over the entire world but exercises this rule in different ways: in one way through the law (in the form of the state) and in another way through the gospel (in the form of the church). One key tenet of Christianity, especially emphasised during the Reformation, is to fundamentally abolish the separation of the world into the secular and sacred. People can serve God not only in temples, churches, or other places of worship, but everywhere in the world. They can also serve God through both sacred sacrifices and religious rituals, as well as through everything they do, if conducted in the right, God-given way. Through the two realms, God exercises divine rule in the world in two ways: in the worldly kingdom, God acts politically through the law with its demands, which are generally to be enforced to maintain life and to secure justice, peace, and freedom; in the spiritual kingdom, God acts in the community of believers religiously through the gospel, which is an invitation to the kingdom of heaven and the promise that God will be faithful.

The law can be understood using reason and should serve justice, peace, and freedom; the gospel, on the other hand, is to be believed and requires trust that is greater than all reason (which is no different in the case of God than between people). Luther made a clear distinction between law and gospel, or promise and pledge, as well as between reason and faith. Confusing the two remains a main cause of ambiguity in life: when reason and knowledge are required, but trust is needed; or, conversely, when trust is required, but reason and knowledge are necessary. Similar confusion arises when, in the place where life is to be secured by justice, peace, and freedom under the rule of law, promises and hopes take their place or, conversely, when it comes to promises and hopes in life, legal regulations are required to secure life.

A good example of such confusion can be found in the constitutions of numerous countries, where human rights are included in a simple preamble that expresses a promise and a pledge for the future of life, but are ultimately worthless and do not regulate or standardise specific laws. Thus, from the perspective of Luther’s two kingdoms doctrine, “religious politics” is absurd and part of the confusion, to use Luther’s dramatic imagery, caused by the devil, or at least by demons, to increase the gloom in the world. To better understand the Lutheran doctrine of the two kingdoms, one can also use the modern concept of the public. Most are accountable to the public for what one does. Of course, there is no such thing as the public; however, a public always exists in a plurality of public spheres, in which there are also very different logics of the formation of opinions. Despite the process, people are held accountable before the social public. From the perspective of theology, there is not only the social public—the public of the world—but also a public before God. There, too, people are held accountable. There, too, judgements are made on one’s being and doing. To understand the Lutheran doctrine of the two kingdoms, it is crucial to understand how one’s life on earth, lived under the two God-given realms of politics/state and religion/church, is judged in the public before God.

Regarding religious existence, divine judgement depends on believing God’s promises and assurances: that one’s sins are forgiven; that, as a child of God, we are all invited to God’s table and into the heavenly kingdom; that God grants life and a future when there is no hope on earth; that one trusts in the power of love. When the political, secular existence is considered as if it came before God in public and were accounted for, then the difference to the confusions of a “religious policy” is decided. For these decisions live from the fact that politics is to be accounted for before God, at least from the perspective of religious existence. The Lutheran concept is fundamentally different at precisely this point. It asserts, for theological reasons, that God does not judge one’s worldly life according to trans-temporal aspects, but rather according to whether a person acts reasonably in politics and society and does what is necessary. This is because reason is a gift from God to recognise the world and to shape it. What is reasonable is what corresponds to the current state of intellectual insight. Reasonableness requires being comprehensibly conveyed in the community of people who form a society, indeed, what seems reasonably comprehensible even outside of one’s own immediate community.

At this point, the misunderstanding often arises that the Protestant understanding of the connection between politics and religion is seen as an anticipation of secularisation, or as a retreat from secularisation to an ecclesiastical or religious sanctuary. This understanding would be accurate if the Lutheran model were only about distinguishing between a responsibility before the public of the world or society and a responsibility before the public of God. In that case, all worldly life would be removed from the public of God and could no longer be accounted for there. However, the Lutheran model does hold that all of life is accountable to God in the public of God, but especially with regard to God, worldly life is judged by God according to fundamentally different criteria than the religious existence of human beings. Therefore, a clear distinction must be made between reason and faith, between law and gospel. Thus, Luther considered reason to be useless, even counterproductive, in matters of faith, while he could not praise and honour reason enough in all worldly matters.

In Luther’s “Disputation Concerning Man (1536),” Luther claimed that “reason is the most important and the highest ranking among all things and, in comparison with other things in this life, the best and something divine. It is the inventor and mentor of all the arts, medicines, laws, and of whatever wisdom, power, virtue, and glory men possess in this life…Holy Scripture also makes it lord over the earth, birds, fish, and cattle, saying, “Have dominion.” That is, reason is a sun and a kind of god appointed to administer these things in this life.” (Luther 1536) The Protestant, specifically Lutheran, insistence on the reasonableness of politics, indeed of all areas of secular life, is thoroughly theological and thus religiously grounded. Part of Protestant piety is not wanting to shape secular life in a specifically religious way, but to shape it reasonably, and to work and study hard to achieve reasonableness.

But what about the specific and constructive connection between religious life and political and social life? What impact does a Christian’s religious existence have on one’s life in politics and society? From the perspective of faith, these questions are abstract; given that both the religious and the political are connected in one’s own existence, they form a unity. However, both the religious and the political also form a unity in the believed rule of God over all existence, which unfolds historically in the two realms—in the spiritual realm of God, which desires to lead people to eternal salvation, and in the secular realm of God, which wants to preserve and maintain the life of people in justice, peace, and freedom. Nevertheless, the questions about the Protestant position on the interaction between the religious and the political are worth considering. To do this, one must understand what constitutes the particularly religious existence of a human being.

According to the Protestant view, the religious existence of a human being is not oriented towards the law, but towards the gospel, which is the divine promise to remain unconditionally faithful and to which a person can only respond in faith and trust. In the gospel, humans are not confronted with demands, but with the promise of a reliable fundamental relationship with God, which is analogous to a parent–child relationship. The gospel is God’s invitation to a stable, fundamental relationship during change, to the safety of a home amid permanent disruption: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). Jesus Christ provides rest to all those who “eat their food by the sweat of their brow” (Genesis 3:19) and who, with their work and service, not only help to sustain life but also contribute to a life of justice, peace, and freedom. In this respect, faith and religious life are a beneficial interruption to the law-governed, work-filled, everyday existence.

In the spiritual realm and in religious life, people are meant to share in the rest of God according to the pattern of the six days of creation, whereafter God rested on the seventh day. The purpose of the spiritual realm is to bring people into fellowship with Jesus Christ and to share with them the eternal bliss of a life with God. Those who follow Jesus Christ’s invitation in faith can discard the burdens of everyday life and the guilt they bring with them, which they cannot justify before God. For Luther, the forgiveness of guilt was a central component of how Christian life related to worldly life. In this respect, religious, spiritual life promises not only the soothing experience of peace during a restless life, but also liberation from all the guilt that arises when one is called upon to answer to God in public for one’s worldly life. Churches can and should speak of the guilt one incurs in worldly life. But the perspective from which they speak cannot be that of a moral institution that is itself morally superior. Rather, the churches can only speak of the guilt in worldly life from the perspective of God’s forgiveness and only by sharing the burden and hardship of those who shape worldly life. From this perspective, the churches can and should speak strictly of the sins of this world and the guilt of the individual to interrupt the confusion of humanity and individuals entangled in life-denying lies and to offer the forgiveness of God and thus liberation from guilt and sin.

The above description is one side of the relationship between religion and worldly life and, to a certain extent, politics. But what about the other side, about positive contributions of faith and religion to the shaping of politics and society? From a Protestant point of view, is there also a concrete and constructive connection between faith and politics and society, when the reasonable—and thus not specifically religious—shaping of politics and society is explicitly affirmed by Protestant Christianity?

These questions were pressing at a major values congress in Beijing, which was particularly challenging given that the Chinese government had recently defined twelve socialist values for the present. The urgent issue was whether, alongside the European basic values of freedom, justice, and solidarity, the old values of the Christian West, such as charity, compassion and mercy, might still be relevant for contemporary politics. These values do have a specifically religious foundation, yet they are also generally plausible as political values by which politics should be guided. In 2015, it was reasonable and appropriate, based on these old European values of the Christian West, to stand by no longer and watch the unspeakable suffering and death in the Mediterranean and on the Balkan route, but to seek new political solutions. For Luther, too, love of one’s neighbour was one of the inner motives that led Christians to become actively involved in seeking justice for the community. Indeed, the broad field of the secular community of justice, like that of society as a whole, offers ample opportunities for the service of love of one’s neighbour. In Luther’s view, loving service includes not only the particularly altruistic service of the Good Samaritan, but also the concern that the means of the rule of law—good legislation, just administration of justice, appropriate prosecution—should be used to prevent people from harming each other and thereby causing discord. From a Lutheran point of view, Christians will always affirm a peace achieved by the law, even though they are aware that it can only ever be a fragile peace if injustice and discord within the human being are not uprooted.

What Luther’s doctrine of the two kingdoms means for the individual is beautifully illustrated in Luther’s sermons on Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, which he preached in Wittenberg between 1530 and 1532 (Luther 1539). In his interpretation of the prohibition of retaliation—“if someone strikes you on your right cheek, offer the other as well. But if anyone wants to sue you and take away your coat, and you are to offer him your cloak as well” (Matthew 5:39f.)—Luther claims that a Christian should behave exactly as these words say. He does not interpret these words of Jesus allegorically, nor does he think that they are only meant to show human limitations and one’s inability to be perfect. Luther was aware of how difficult it can be for a serious Christian to refrain from retaliation in the face of the wickedness of fellow human beings and the complexities of real life. He thus discussed in detail in his interpretation of the Sermon on the Mount how a Christian should react when suffering injustice. A Christian cannot seek immediate revenge or strike back:

If you ask whether a Christian should also sue or defend himself, then answer badly and say no, because a Christian is such a person or human being that has nothing to do with such a worldly existence and law, and is in such a realm or kingdom where nothing should work other than as we ask, ’Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive those who are indebted to us‘. There should be nothing but love and service between people, even towards those who do not love us but are our enemies, do violence and injustice to us. That is why he tells them not to resist evil and not to seek revenge at all, but to turn the other cheek to him who strikes them (Luther 1539, p. 109).

However, if a Christian is unable or unwilling to accept the injustice done, then, in Luther’s view, one should take the issue to court, only to obtain justice with a pure heart and not to seek revenge. However, based on Luther’s assessment of the legal system of that time (which is still the case in many countries), a Christian should be aware that the situation could worsen when political action is taken: “Not because the law does you wrong or violates you […] but because the scoundrels and villains sit in judgement and are in office to speak the law, and yet where you cannot be forced into it, they bend and twist and abuse it for their own pleasure.” (Luther 1539, p. 114) According to Luther, the person who takes legal action against the injustice suffered may also ultimately prove to be the guilty party. Nevertheless, Luther considers taking legal action as the only way for a Christian to act against injustice suffered.

For Luther, given that the situation is also possible for a person who listens to the Sermon on the Mount and strives for a perfect Christian life, it is a consequence of every Christian’s existence in interpersonal and social relationships. Within this web of relationships, one has various roles and tasks, each of which is associated with a particular responsibility towards fellow human beings. As such, a “worldly person” should “resist all evil, as far as his office allows.” (Luther 1539, p. 113) The same also applies to safeguarding oneself in society. According to Luther, “a Christian should not take legal action against anyone, but rather let both the skirt and the mantle fly, if one is not wearing them. But a worldly person should protect and defend himself by law wherever he can against violence and injustice. In the kingdom of Christ, it is said, one must suffer all kinds of things, forgive and repay good for evil. In the emperor’s realm, one should not suffer injustice but resist and punish evil and help protect and maintain the law, which is the duty of each person according to his station or rank.” (Luther 1539, p. 113) Luther’s view is therefore not only that a Christian should bravely endure the personal injustice, while going to any lengths to prevent the injustice done to one’s neighbour, such as by stopping someone who is about to strike another person. He also believed that Christians should actively maintain and protect the legal system and, in general, the institutions and good orders of a society.

Luther’s seemingly vehement criticism of the legal system and the politics of his time shows that this positive attitude towards the legal system and towards political and social institutions applies in a fundamental sense and by no means includes every arbitrary realisation of a legal system and a social order, which was a false conclusion of later Lutheranism. Especially in Luther’s interpretation of the Sermon on the Mount, one can see how critical Luther was of the concrete legal system and the failure of those politically responsible. Nevertheless, from Luther’s point of view, there was no alternative for dealing with injustice other than to fight it through the legal system and social institutions. Luther’s model for dealing with the injustice suffered and thus the guilt that fellow human beings have incurred by conducting injustice can be summarised as follows. On the one hand, a Christian is self-related. As a “self,” each person is responsible to Jesus Christ for one’s entire life. In this self-relation, one tries to realise the demands of perfection depicted in the Sermon on the Mount—as Jesus says: “Therefore you shall be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48). However, a Christian does not only exist in this self-relation (which is articulated using the personal pronoun “I”), but also stands in relation to fellow human beings, to whom one refers using the second and third personal pronouns, both in singular and in plural. These relationships are to be shaped differently from the relationship to oneself. In relation to fellow human beings, a Christian is also responsible for their well-being, justice, peace, and freedom. Therefore, a Christian will also politically advocate for a corresponding just and functioning constitutional state.

A Christian does not have the same responsibility to oneself. Here, a person lives as a Christian when trusting that Jesus Christ has taken all the responsibility for one’s joy and sorrow and, in this respect, one renounces the enforcement of one’s own rights and justified retaliation. This renunciation is increased by the active willingness to forgive those who have done wrong and thereby become guilty. The model applies generally to Luther’s ethics and conception of a Christian life. Early on, he criticised the separation of Christian ethics into a monastic perfectionist ethic and an everyday ethic suitable for the average Christian—and thus also the orientation of Christian life towards the monastic way of life (as can be clearly observed today in Orthodox Christianity, but also in Theravada Buddhism). Various ethical principles, especially in the Gospel of Matthew, had been understood as so-called evangelical principles in such a way that they were not addressed to normal Christians, but only to those striving to be perfect. This view is criticised by Luther, even in Article 16 of the Augsburg Confession.

The special evangelical counsels for a monastic life were poverty, chastity, and obedience (cf. Matthew 19:1ff; 19:16ff; and 20:26). These classical virtues, to be realised in a monastic way, were redefined by Reformation theology. The idea of a perfect Christian life was not abandoned, but its content was redefined. Abstinence was replaced by marriage and family; poverty was replaced by gainful employment, diligence, and property; and obedience was replaced by the affirmation of public laws based on freedom and justice. From the perspective of Reformation theology, a perfect Christian life is not realised in special religious forms separate from the social world but accomplished in the middle of social reality: in marriage and family, in a professional life characterised by work and diligence, and in the active affirmation of a legally well-regulated public order of freedom. According to Luther, the claim to perfection in Christian life does not lead to a separate, particularly religious subculture, but directly into secular social life, in which a perfect Christian life can be realised.

This theological concept has various consequences, two of which will now be addressed, given that the traces of the Reformation remain visible in contemporary society. On the one hand, there is the Lutheran interest in a general legal order in a society, and on the other, there is the high regard for serving one’s neighbour and the corresponding work ethic.

• In a study published in 2005 on the religious roots of modern poverty and social policy in various OECD countries, Sigrun Kahl compared the relevant Catholic, Lutheran, and Reformed traditions. Kahl notes: “The Scandinavian and German social assistance systems are unitary, uniform and generous, because in Lutheran social doctrine, the secular authorities should deliver relief to all of the poor in a uniform way.” (Kahl 2005, pp. 91–126, here 121) Accordingly, Lutheran Christianity has developed a very positive understanding of the state, indeed, of politics in general—especially with regard to social policy, poverty, and labour policy. Sigrun Kahl summarises comparatively:

Catholic subsidiarity and Reformed Protestant individualism and voluntarism both attribute a negative role to the state. In countries under Catholic or Reformed Protestant dominance, poor relief was not secularised as early and as comprehensively as in the Lutheran countries, and private charity, families and mutual help remained important sources of support. Poor relief officials were mainly representatives of the clergy. Countries under Lutheran dominance, in contrast, secularised church property in the course of the Reformation and assigned a positive role to the state very early on. In accordance with the Lutheran poor law, these countries established tax-based and centralised systems of poor relief (Kahl 2005, pp. 120–21).

A comparison of the religious roots of modern poverty policy beyond the Catholic, Reformed, and Lutheran traditions—with Orthodox Christianity, but also Islam, Hinduism or Buddhism, as well as regional traditions—would reinforce this result with regard to the Lutheran Reformation. In Lutheran Christianity, there is a strong interest in general legal regulations that are guaranteed and implemented by a functioning state. These interests are especially prevalent from the point of view that Lutheran Christianity is also very strongly committed to social welfare work, both locally and internationally. There is no church aid organisation or NGO that is as efficient in its international social welfare work as the humanitarian department of the Lutheran World Federation, which helps people in need all over the world. Humanitarian work also includes supporting people in enforcing rule-of-law structures in their respective societies, as well as acting as an advocate for those in far too many societies whose fundamental rights are being disregarded by their government.

• As early as 1520, in his programmatic “On the Freedom of a Christian,” Luther wrote about the meaning and necessity of the works that a Christian “does toward his neighbor.” It is a misunderstanding of the Reformation to conclude from Luther’s criticism of good works that good works are no longer required from an evangelical point of view. Quite the opposite. Good works are highly meaningful and necessary. However, they are not necessary for piety and salvation, because these are “free of charge.” For Luther, good works are only truly good if they are done freely: that is, without any ulterior religious motive. “Man, however, needs none of these things for his righteousness and salvation. Therefore he should be guided in all his works by this thought and contemplate this one thing alone, that he may serve and benefit others in all that he does, considering nothing except the need and the advantage of his neighbor.” (Luther 1520, p. 365) Free “good” action can be described as the ethical principle of Protestant Christianity. In Luther’s opinion, a Christian should accept everything as a gift through faith and be grateful to God for it. “Although the Christian is thus free from all works, he ought in this liberty to empty himself, take upon himself the form of a servant, be made in the likeness of men, be found in human form, and to serve, help, and in every way deal with his neighbor as he sees that God through Christ has dealt and still deals with him. This he should do freely, having regard for nothing but divine approval.” (Luther 1520, p. 366).

Having a serving attitude toward one’s neighbour and thus lovingly taking on the concerns of others, devoting a person’s entire life, is not just meant for occasional good deeds. According to Luther, love is just as much a fundamental trait of Christian existence as faith and hope, which should be evident in all moments of life. Love of one’s neighbour means serving one’s neighbour in such a way that the primary concern is to help. In serving one’s neighbour, what is poetically sung in the hymn is realised: “Instead of thinking of myself, I want to sink into the sea of love.”3 Such service to one’s neighbour as a service of love can and should be cultivated in professional life as well. This applies to all professions that can be practised as a service to one’s neighbour or primarily for one’s own benefit.

Returning to Luther’s 1526 essay regarding a soldier, he addresses the fact that the killing associated with war does not appear to be a work of love and thus is not befitting for a Christian to do. To complicate the matter, Luther first refers to a doctor who must cut off entire body parts, which, as such, appears to be unmerciful and cruel. However, the perception changes when the whole body is considered, which is saved through such a measure. If, when it comes to the office of a soldier, attention is only paid to “a soldier fulfilling his office by punishing the wicked, killing the wicked, and creating so much misery, it seems an un-Christian work completely contrary to Christian love.” (Luther 1967, p. 96) The assessment changes completely when it is considered “how it protects the good and keeps and preserves wife and child, house and farm, property, and honor and peace, then I see how precious and godly this work is.” (Luther 1967, p. 96) For it could be, “if the sword were not on guard to preserve peace, everything in the world would be ruined because of lack of peace.” (Luther 1967, p. 96) Of course, according to Luther, “if people were good and wanted to keep peace, war would be the greatest plague on earth.” (Luther 1967, p. 96) Luther was pessimistic when it came to the human will: “But what are you going to do about the fact that people will not keep the peace, but rob, steal, kill, outrage women and children, and take away property and honor? The small lack of peace called war or the sword must set a limit to this universal, worldwide lack of peace which would destroy everyone.” (Luther 1967, p. 96) Because Luther was a pessimist (or realist) with regard to human willpower, he understood clearly that the office of sword and war, ordained by God for protection against evil, would also be misused by people. Distinguishing between the office and the person in the office was the fault of the person: “For where is there any office or a work or anything else so good that self-willed, wicked people do not abuse it?” (Luther 1967, p. 97) Abuse must also be resisted in military service.

However, in Luther’s view, the office of the sword or military service is ordained by God to effectively prevent evil and injustice in a variety of ways and to protect the defenceless—in other words, to preserve justice, peace and freedom. This office and this state task are carried out correctly when understood as a service to one’s neighbour. The concept of service already contains the correct understanding of the soldier and the military. The idea of service is even more pronounced in the duties of a soldier in that it includes the willingness to serve one’s fellow human beings (one’s neighbour) by risking one’s own life; in other words, to give one’s all for one’s fellow human beings to secure their lives in peace, justice, and freedom. From a Protestant perspective, the idea of service is also appropriate in other professions, because every profession should be practised in such a way that people devote themselves to their fellow human beings to help them and to support and promote their flourishing. The service of the soldier in securing the lives of people in one’s country, a life in peace, justice, and freedom, also benefits religion and the free practice of religion in society, especially Protestant Christianity, in which the freedom of the individual is central and which is therefore politically reserved. The free development of religions within the limits of the legal system is to be protected precisely by a liberal legal system, but also by appropriate institutions of the state that are capable of acting, are committed to the Basic Law and the liberal legal system, and defend and maintain the freedom of religious practice. However, in far too many places in the world, religious politics is on the rise, and in most cases, it is accompanied by a lack of respect for the freedom of religious practice.