About 110 minutes
Judaism — Reading Companion
Comparative Religion
25,258 recorded words. 67 minutes difference from this book's estimate.
View Gutenberg source #6971An Open Letter on Translating — Context and Discussion can be approached with a clearer sense of reading commitment from its source measurements: 9,796 words, 43 min estimated reading time, and 1 detected text section.
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About 110 minutes
Comparative Religion
25,258 recorded words. 67 minutes difference from this book's estimate.
View Gutenberg source #6971About 190 minutes
Comparative Religion
43,577 recorded words. 147 minutes difference from this book's estimate.
View Gutenberg source #418About 219 minutes
Comparative Religion
50,255 recorded words. 176 minutes difference from this book's estimate.
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Read on Project GutenbergMartin Luther's An Open Letter on Translating (1530) is a polemical defense of his German New Testament, written in response to critics who accused him of falsifying Scripture. The letter centers on two questions posed by an unnamed correspondent: why Luther translated Romans 3:28 as 'faith alone' despite the Greek lacking sola, and whether departed saints intercede for the living. Luther's reply is less a systematic translation theory than a combative justification of his choices, blending philological argument, theological conviction, and personal invective against the papacy.
Luther's defense of adding 'alone' (allein) to Romans 3:28 rests on three pillars. First, he insists that the German language naturally requires the word for clarity: 'it is the nature of the German tongue that in speaking of two things, one of which is affirmed and the other denied, we use the word allein (alone) alongside the word nicht (not).' He gives everyday examples, such as saying 'the farmer brings only grain, not money,' to show that German idiom demands the intensifier. Second, Luther argues that the theological substance of Paul's argument—that justification is by faith without works—necessitates the word, even if it is not in the Greek. He writes, 'the matter itself, at its very core, necessitates that one say: “Faith alone makes one righteous.”' Third, he cites precedent from Ambrose, Augustine, and others who said the same. Luther's tone is unapologetic: he calls his critics 'papal asses' and declares that despite their ranting, 'they shall not take it away from me.'
Luther frames his translation as a work of superior linguistic skill, contrasting his own command of German with the ignorance of his opponents. He claims that if he had thought the papists capable of translating even one passage correctly, he would have asked for their help—but he spared them the trouble because 'not one of them knows how to speak or translate German.' He accuses them of learning German from his own translations and then stealing his language. This charge is part of a broader rhetorical strategy: Luther positions himself as the defender of both the Gospel and the German vernacular against a Latinized, works-righteous establishment. The letter's preface, written by a friend (Wenceslas Link), frames the publication as a response to slander that has 'shocked and startled many simple Christians.' Luther's authority thus rests not on ecclesiastical office but on his linguistic competence and his fidelity to the plain meaning of Scripture as he sees it.
Luther's treatment of the second question—whether departed saints intercede for us—is notably brief, as he promises a fuller sermon on the angels. He dismisses the doctrine as an invention unsupported by Scripture: 'we cannot know this as the Scripture does not tell us such.' He goes further, accusing the papacy of turning saints into gods, each with a particular power over fire, water, or pestilence, as if God were idle. The tone is sarcastic: 'Indeed, God must have been altogether idle to have let the saints work in his place.' Luther's critique here echoes his broader attack on human mediation in salvation. The saints' intercession, like works-righteousness, detracts from Christ's unique role. Though he defers a full treatment, the passage reveals a consistent pattern in Luther's thought: any doctrine not grounded in Scripture is not merely optional but dangerous, as it displaces faith in Christ alone.
Readers should approach this letter as a primary source for understanding Reformation-era translation debates and Luther's rhetorical style. The text is not a neutral guide to translation principles but a partisan document shaped by controversy. Pay attention to how Luther moves between linguistic argument, theological assertion, and personal attack—a combination that made his writings both effective and divisive. The letter also offers a window into the practical challenges of making Scripture accessible to lay readers in the sixteenth century.
There are moments when Luther’s stubborn insistence on one word — his “alone” — feels less like doctrine and more like the ache of wanting to be heard properly. That same ache lingers in the quieter sermons of a later age, where faith becomes less about proof and more about fragile, shared humanity, as in Human Nature, and Other Sermons — Themes and Context. I keep returning to both, like old friends who argue differently but pray the same.
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