All Christians whatsoever really and truly belong to the religious class, and there is no difference among them except in so far as they do different work. … A shoemaker, a smith, a farmer, each has his manual occupation and work; and yet, at the same time, all are eligible to act as priests and bishops. Every one of them in his occupation or handicraft ought to be useful to his fellows, and serve them in such a way that the various trades are all directed to the best advantage of the community, and promote the well-being of body and soul, just as the organs of the body serve each other.— Martin Luther, from An Appeal to the Ruling Class
In 1517, no one expected a little-known monk at a brand-new university in an out-of-the-way town to transform the world. But the printing press afforded Martin Luther a reach throughout Europe he could not have known otherwise. According to Andrew Pettegree, over the course of the 16th century, printers issued nearly 5,000 editions of Luther’s works, and Luther was the most published author ever by the end of the century. In the 1566 edition of his Table Talk, Luther was recorded by Johannes Aurifaber as saying, “The printing press is the greatest and ultimate gift through which God continues to spread the word of the gospel. It is the last flame before the end of the world.”
But don’t imagine that Luther’s success was a result of his lone pastoral efforts and his prescient recognition of a budding technology. Much of what he achieved depended on close partnerships with printers, editors, and craftsmen of his day. Richard Cole wrote in “Reformation Printers,” “Individual authors and their specific works are only half of the story of the printing dimensions of Reformation times. The people who cast the type and rolled the ink are frequently overlooked by scholars because they are regarded as mere cogs in the wheel of the printing revolution.” Luther saw them as co-ministers whose skill and courage could expand the Reformation’s cause and whose mistakes could damage the gospel itself.
When Luther’s writing first took Europe by storm, Johann Rhau-Grunenberg was the only printer in Wittenberg, and evidently he was not up to the task. Grunenberg’s inability to meet the rapid and frenzied turnover of Luther’s writings proved a liability. In 1521, Luther wrote to Georg Spalatin about his frustrations with Grunenberg’s printing:
I cannot say how sorry and disgusted I am with the printing. I wish I had sent nothing in German, because they print it so poorly, carelessly and confusedly, to say nothing of bad types and paper. John [Grunenberg], the printer, is always the same old Johnny.
Although it was clear they were unequally yoked, a remote printer was out of the question because of the risk of lost or stolen pages. Luther visited the printing house daily, and, despite his exasperation over the slow pace of Grunenberg’s work and his lack of style or skill, Luther expressed appreciation for the printer’s honesty and loyalty.
Luther fretted over the piracy of his work as he navigated a newly developing industry. Unauthorized printing driven by greed led to sloppy work and, from Luther’s vantage point, the misrepresentation of the gospel message. His 1521 letter to Spalatin continued,
What is the use of my working so hard if the errors in the printed books give occasion to other publishers to make them still worse? I would not sin so against the Gospels and Epistles: better let them remain hidden than bring them out in such form.
Eventually Luther recruited to Wittenberg more skilled printers dedicated to the cause of Reformation. The Lotter family established a branch of their publishing house in Wittenberg after connecting with Luther at the Leipzig Disputation of 1519. Their support lasted decades. Then Hans Lufft began printing in Wittenberg in 1523, producing thousands of copies of Luther’s Bible with highly regarded skill.
Luther also benefited greatly from his close friendship and collaboration with Lucas Cranach the Elder, the godfather of his children, whose artistry became an identifiable mark of Luther’s works.
Meanwhile, Caspar Cruciger proved indispensable for editing, proofreading, translating, and publishing Luther’s works. As Luther was completing the Church Postil, a contemporary observed, “Luther was amazed at how he had spoken and praised the skill of … Caspar Cruciger who was so adept at catching his words and understanding his way of speaking, saying, ‘I think he made it a better sermon than the one I preached.’”
A Multi-Vocational Priesthood
Luther’s many partnerships stand in contrast to ministry efforts in some churches today. In these contexts, the burden of pastoral work falls solely on the office of the pastorate with little or no safety net. We see symptoms of this in the growing awareness of mental health concerns within the pastorate as well as the proliferation of destructive behavior, corruption, and abuse in ministry.
Yet church history reveals that pastors often functioned in clerical networks and, in the Protestant traditions, heavily emphasized contributions from the priesthood of all believers. This meant partnership, fellowship, support, and accountability from people in vocations other than traditional ministry.
On this topic, Luther wrote,
A shoemaker, a smith, a farmer, each has his manual occupation and work; and yet, at the same time, all are eligible to act as priests and bishops. Every one of them in his occupation or handicraft ought to … promote the well-being of body and soul, just as the organs of the body serve each other.
Echoing Paul from 1 Corinthians 12, Luther believed all vocations could—and should—contribute to the church’s ministry work.
The success of print was hardly a foregone conclusion when it first emerged. Economic risks were substantial, and there is no better example of this than Johannes Gutenberg himself, who died penniless. Although the financial stability of the industry would improve with time, economic risks continued to plague printers who chose to produce controversial Reformation publications in contexts enforcing censorship laws. These printers were driven to partner with pastors not by a transactional incentive but by a missional one.
Consider the Swiss Reformation, which—it has been joked—began “with an empty stomach.” Zurich Reformer Ulrich Zwingli was visiting the home of printer Christoph Froschauer to encourage him as he worked furiously to complete a new edition of the epistles of Paul in time for the Frankfurt book fair. Froschauer decided to serve sausages to the workers despite Lenten restrictions, and he was imprisoned. Zwingli’s first Reformation treatise, published by Froschauer’s press, proclaimed the freedom of food and opened the door for Froschauer’s freedom from jail. His commitment to Reformation printing grew, and it was known by all that he was no mere cog in the Reformation machine but a printer with evangelical convictions dedicated to advancing the reform of the church. There is surely no better metaphor for the Reformation than sausages freely served at a printer’s house during Lent.
The French Reformation, too, is filled with stories of printers navigating the ever-fluctuating censorship laws issued from Paris. When Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion became the focus of prohibition, printers were threatened with hanging if they did not surrender the Institutes, as well as any other books prohibited by the court. Facing financial ruin, printers in Paris requested that an errata page—normally a list of printing errors, but in this case a list of “errors” in thinking—be included for those books advancing “Lutheran” views so they could still sell their product. This option worked only for a time.
During the ebb and flow of Protestant persecution, prohibited books were often burned along with the heretic, their trial records, and sometimes even the printer. These printers would be added to the martyrologies of their day, such as Jean Crespin’s Le livre des martyrs (1554), as exemplars of what it meant to advance the true church.
As my husband and I prepare to launch a new ministry, we are trying to learn from the example of these Reformation partnerships. We have relied heavily on a photographer, web designer, and videographer who value our convictions and believe in our callings to serve the church. Their gifts have been a key part of the formation of our ministry and its future. Here is the priesthood of all believers at its best: each person using their gifts, training, and expertise to advance the work of the church.
Partnerships and Undervalued Voices
Many unlikely voices were elevated during the early Reformation thanks to the printing press and courageous printers. Argula von Grumbach was the first female Protestant lay theologian to publish in her time. At age 31, she became a public advocate for Luther after publishing an open letter to the faculty at the University of Ingolstadt in 1523. She challenged the faculty to debate her on matters of Scripture and theology in the German language, which was an audacious move for any layperson, and especially for a woman, at the time. In only two months, her first pamphlet was reprinted in 14 editions, which rivaled only Luther’s writings in propagation. Here was an underestimated voice that suffered abuse, threats, and loss of status for her boldness. But she played an important role in advancing the ministry of reform.
Printers, too, sometimes defied vocational expectations. Margarethe Prüss was a daughter, wife, and mother-in-law of printers living in Strasbourg. Print was in her blood. Although Prüss lived during a time when guild regulations had tightened to exclude women from apprenticeships, she inherited the family business after her father died and could pass it on to her husband as long as she married a printer. So she did—three different times.
Because widows were given special privileges for managing a printing house independently after the death of their husbands, Prüss was able to take her family’s press in a very different direction than her father had, directing publications in support of Reformers like Luther and other, more radical voices of the Reformation such as Strasbourg’s “Church Mother,” Katharina Schütz Zell.
During a time of social and economic unrest among the peasants of Germany, Prüss published the prophetic visions of Ursula Jost, a follower of Melchior Hoffman who experienced 77 apocalyptic visions between 1525 and 1532. The risks were considerable when Prüss printed Jost’s Prophetic Visions (1530) because the Radical Reformation had gained powerful enemies. Threats of arrest befell Prüss’s third husband, Balthasar Back, followed by censorship and confiscation causing significant financial loss. Weathering these storms and more, the Prüsses’ publishing house continued to print Radical Reformation writings.
Because Reformers believed the anointing to the priesthood of all believers was rooted in baptism, children and women were explicitly included in this affirmation. Additionally, women during the Reformation frequently pointed to Jesus’ own words in Matthew 10:32 to stress the “whoever”—both men and women—commanded to proclaim his name.
Everyone has a part to play in God’s ministry. I still remember the confidence I felt the first time I was given the opportunity to proclaim God’s Word among the assembly of believers. I wore a pink suit with gold buttons, and I felt the Holy Spirit with me as I spoke. To empower the body of Christ, pastors would do well to develop sensitivity to the skills, interests, and callings of others in their congregations.
The pastors of the Reformation could not have achieved what they did without fostering partnerships with gifted people who believed in the mission behind what they published and took great risks to advance that message. Their story is a reminder that pastors need more than interchangeable volunteers and support staff who prop up our own ministries. We need true ministry partnerships with other vocations to advance the work of the church.
Jennifer Powell McNutt is the Franklin S. Dyrness Associate Professor of Biblical and Theological Studies at Wheaton College; parish associate at First Presbyterian Church of Glen Ellyn, Illinois; and co-president of McNuttshell Ministries Inc
This article was adapted from a paper delivered in October 2019 at the Center for Pastor Theologians Conference. The full article will appear in its Bulletin of Ecclesial Theology, exploring how the pastorate should relate to technology. And if you like the historical approach here, there’s more in our special issue on 9 Time-Tested Mantras for Ministry: Sage Advice for Pastors, from the Early Church to the Modern Age.
