In the tumultuous 16th century, as the Protestant Reformation reshaped the religious landscape of Europe, a pivotal debate emerged concerning the very nature of human will and its role in salvation. At the heart of this intellectual and theological storm was Martin Luther’s powerful treatise, De servo arbitrio, or The Bondage of the Will. This work, penned in 1525 as a direct response to Desiderius Erasmus’s De libero arbitrio diatribe sive collatio (On Free Will), remains a cornerstone of Reformation theology and a crucial text for understanding the doctrines of grace.
Erasmus, a celebrated humanist scholar, approached the question of free will from a semi-Pelagian perspective. He argued for a synergistic view of salvation, where God and humanity cooperate, with humans possessing a degree of freedom to choose good and contribute to their salvation. Erasmus believed that while sin weakened humanity, it did not entirely eradicate the capacity to seek God. This view, deeply rooted in the tradition Erasmus inhabited, stood in stark contrast to the burgeoning Reformation theology championed by Martin Luther.
Luther’s De servo arbitrio was far from a gentle rebuttal; it was, as some historians describe it, a theological bombshell. The very title, The Bondage of the Will, signaled Luther’s radical departure from Erasmus and the prevailing Catholic understanding of free will. Luther’s response was not merely a scholarly disagreement but a passionate defense of what he considered the very core of the Gospel.
In a telling passage from De servo arbitrio, Luther acknowledged Erasmus’s pinpointing of the central issue:
You alone . . . have attacked the real thing, that is, the essential issue. You have not worried me with those extraneous issues about the Papacy, purgatory, indulgences, and such like – trifles, rather than issues – in respect of which almost all to date have sought my blood . . . you, and you alone, have seen the hinge on which all turns, and aimed for the vital spot [literally, ‘taken me by the throat’]. For that I heartily thank you; for it is more gratifying for me to deal with this issue.1
Luther recognized that the debate over free will was not an academic side issue but “the hinge on which all turns.” For Luther, the implications of free will, or its absence, directly impacted the doctrine of salvation itself. If humans possess a free will capable of initiating or contributing to their salvation, then salvation becomes, at least in part, a human endeavor. Luther vehemently opposed this notion, arguing that it diminished God’s grace and undermined the sufficiency of Christ’s sacrifice. He believed that any assertion of human autonomy in salvation was “an affront to God and a denial of the gospel,” rendering the cross of Christ “of none effect.”
Luther passionately affirmed the biblical teaching that salvation is entirely God’s work, a gift of grace from beginning to end. Drawing from passages like Ephesians 2:8, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God,” Luther emphasized that even faith itself is not a product of human will but a gift bestowed by God. His engagement with Erasmus was not driven by intellectual arrogance but by a profound zeal for God’s glory and the salvation of sinners.
Erasmus viewed the intricacies of free will as a matter best left to theological elites, suggesting it was too complex for ordinary Christians and irrelevant to daily Christian living. Luther, however, held the diametrically opposite view. He believed that understanding the bondage of the will was not only pertinent but “in the highest degree wholesome and necessary, for a Christian to know whether or not his will has anything to do in matters pertaining to salvation.”2
For Luther, grasping the extent of human inability was crucial for genuine Christian living. He argued that ignorance of God’s power and human powerlessness leads to a flawed understanding of God himself, hindering true worship, praise, and service. He stated:
Now, if I am ignorant of God’s works and power, I am ignorant of God himself; and if I do not know God, I cannot worship, praise, give thanks or serve Him, for I do not know how much I should attribute to myself and how much to Him. We need, therefore, to have in mind a clear-cut distinction between God’s power and ours, and God’s work and ours, if we would live a godly life.3
The doctrine of the bondage of the will, far from being an obscure theological point, has profound implications for the Christian life. If humans retain inherent goodness and the capacity to choose God independently, self-reliance and pride inevitably creep in. Conversely, recognizing the total bondage of the will to sin and Satan necessitates a complete reliance on God’s grace. This understanding fosters humility and directs all glory to God, ensuring that “no flesh should glory in his presence” (1 Corinthians 1:29).
Luther’s unwavering stance on the bondage of the will was not primarily motivated by a desire for doctrinal precision, although he was committed to biblical accuracy. His driving force was a deep concern for God’s glory and the salvation of sinners. This dual passion – for God’s honor and human redemption – fueled his response to Erasmus and continues to resonate with theologians, pastors, and Christians today. When these concerns are paramount, the truth of humanity’s utter inability to will good will be proclaimed with conviction, and the magnificence of God’s grace in Christ will be magnified. Soli Deo Gloria – to God alone be the glory.
Notes
- J. I. Packer and O.R. Johnston, The Bondage of the Will, A New Translation of De Servo Arbitrio (London: James Clark, 1957), page 31.
- Ibid., p. 78.
- Ibid.
This article is based on an original piece by Ian Hamilton of Cambridge Presbyterian Church, reflecting on the enduring importance of Luther’s “De servo arbitrio.”
