Michael Massing

While so much of Michael Massing’s “Fatal Discord: Erasmus, Luther, and the Fight for the Western Mind” is concentrated on the evolution of Christian thought during the Protestant Reformation, my attention kept being diverted to the strange and cataclysmic impact publishing had on European polity during the period.

It was a short leap from the metal moveable-type printing presses of 1450 to the dissemination of Martin Luther’s 95 Theses, the “Disputation on the Power and Efficacy of Indulgences” in 1517 first nailed to the door of a small church in the backwater of Wittenberg, Germany.

Many, many of Luther’s and Erasmus’ theological tracts were reprinted in the thousands and sold at book fairs across Europe. For the first time church and lay authorities had to react quickly to keep up with the fast-moving opinions of their communities.

And they sure resented it.

I couldn’t stop thinking of the parallels with today when massive self publishing on Twitter, facebook, and Instagram encourage Luther-like bomb-throwers to upend the orthodoxy of the press.

Luther seemed to me like a precursor to Rush Limbaugh, conspiracy theorist Alex Jones, or the conservative doyen Glenn Beck.

Catholic Church fathers correctly as it seems understood the power of the small presses to undermine church legitimacy when these same presses reeled off thousands of copies of Erasmus’ revisions to the then dominant Vulgate Bible, his satire of church functionaries, and Martin Luther’s even more incendiary complaints of the sales of the promises of salvation by church bishops and the Papacy, what were in those days called “Indulgences.”

Quickly following on the heels of translations of the Bible into the vernacular languages came dozens, then hundreds, and eventually thousands of Protestant sects who wanted to own Scripture for themselves.

It wasn’t the first split in the Christian religion. The Eastern Orthodox Church had split off long before. And there had been numerous schisms in the intervening years. And somehow the Roman Church has held on for another 500 years with its obscene wealth, its rituals, and its own hierarchy of orthodoxy.

When I read in the online news services of the recent admission by the Pope of centuries of abuse of young nuns no less than the abuse of young boys, I am smitten by Erasmus’ and Luther’s complaint 500 years ago that celibacy would never control the carnal desires of church leaders. How many children, and how many young women have been abused by the system of secrecy in the Roman Church over that period?

It’s too shocking to contemplate.

But the story in this volume that held my attention strongest was that of William Tyndall, a brilliant classicist, who undertook a translation of the accepted Vulgate Bible into English and left us with some of the great phrases of the English language including “The Lord is my Shepard I shall not want,” “the salt of the earth,” “my brother’s keeper,” “our father which art in heaven,” “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak,” “eat, drink, and be merry,” and “the powers that be.”

William Tyndall was hounded by Thomas More and chased around Europe until finally captured in Belgium and burned at the stake. In a rare show of mercy he was strangled before burned. All for the heresy of reinterpreting a deeply flawed translation of the holy scriptures. And Tyndall was among the lucky ones. Others were burned alive, or had their skin flayed with hot pincers, or were repeatedly raised and lowered into the flames until they died in agony.

Much of Tyndall’s translation found it’s way into the King James Bible barely a century later, long after King Henry VIII broke with the Vatican over its refusal to grant an annulment so that Henry could marry Anne Boleyn.… (meer)

I found this book riveting, even though I could not manage to read it straight through. I got it from the library months ago and have been reading it in large chunks. I have now finished it and re-read parts, and I'm thinking about buying a copy and considering giving copies as gifts.

Before starting to write this review I looked at some of the *, and ** reviews and, as often happens, I think some people weren't reading the same book was. The oddest of these negative reviews (aside from the one saying the book can't be interesting to anyone who isn't religious, to whom I offer my own heathen *****) is the review complaining that Michael Massing doesn't have a central thesis. I think Massing tells us very clearly what he is getting at with the book's subtitle and then at length in the Introduction and even greater length in the final chapter: Origins and Acknowledgements. Massing sees the Fatal Discord between Erasmus and Luther is a lens through which the divergence between the Renaissance and Reformation worldview.

From early days, the followers of Christ preached, discussed, argued, harangued, and fought over doctrine and practice. The scope and heat of these disputes expanded and contracted over the centuries during which what becomes the Roman Catholic Church with a pope seated in Rome, used the sword, superstition, and terror of damnation to consolidate power and material wealth ever more tightly. Beginning in about 1350, another expansion of loud criticism of the Church and its practices began. These critics were brutally suppressed, yet the arguments persisted, growing more harsh and more open in the next century. Erasmus, born 1466, and Luther, born 1483, rose to prominence among the great clamor for change, through their exquisite use of disputation techniques in an era of formalized disputation.

Massing focuses on several key figures in the early church who influenced Erasmus and Luther, and shows how these historical writings are interpreted by successive generations of theologians, most of whom could not read the works in the original languages. Luther and especially Erasmus, were linguists and Massing, a modern journalist, honors their use of original sources.

In addition to theological history, "Fatal Discord" can be read as an exploration of the rapidly changing world in which these men lived. I was particularly fascinated by the role publishing houses – large and small – played in shaping the world. Thousands of copies of books were shipped every. Books were favored gifts and, along with letters and tracts, crossed Europe in weeks. As always, I am astounded by how often people travelled around, often on foot. Scholars and students wandered everywhere.

To place Erasmus and Luther among their forebears and peers, Massing offers mini-biographies of a vast number of the real people. In the case of early Church luminaries, we learn a bit about their historical-cultural world, and why their works persist into the modern world, often overcoming disdain and neglect of prior ages. Massing includes some wonderful tidbits along the line. I am delighted to learn that Paul's clarification that followers of Christ don't have to follow Jewish law was largely to reassure converts that they didn't have to get circumcised. Well OK then, no snip.

There is no question that reading a book of this size and density requires an investment of time and attention. If you are undecided, read the Introduction and Origins and Acknowledgements. Massing's discussion there is an invitation to read. I was hooked by the 2018 NYT book review and by Massing's lecture on the book on YouTube at watch?v=bOC5WVCnw_k

NB: I think this book would be difficult to finish as an ebook. It's just too long. But the ebook form would be useful because the index (in the hardback, anyway) is not great. Because I was reading in chunks and because there is such a huge amount of information, sometimes I could not remember a phrase or reference. The index was unhelpful in the 3 or 4 instances I needed to use it. Fortunately Dr. Google and my own ability to link a phrase to something else, got me through.… (meer)