Earlier this week, the Vice President of the United States of America made two controversial comments about Pope Leo XIV. On Tuesday, J D Vance said that the pope should “be careful” when talking about theology. This is a comment which, strictly speaking, is absolutely true. The extent to which the Pope has been insufficiently careful is the stuff of watercooler and back porch conversation. It seems that the VP is unimpressed with the current Bishop of Rome. Impious as they may be, these conversations happen. But on Monday, Vance made another comment which is worth exploring in more detail. Vance said, “I certainly think that in some cases, it would be best for the Vatican to stick to matters of morality, to stick to matters of what’s going on with the Catholic church, and let the president of the United States stick to dictating American public policy.” Here Vance articulates the classic Protestant position of the vocations of ministry and magistracy. As we will see, this perspective was central to Luther’s first ground-shaking argument. It also frequently occurs in other Reformation figures and, more importantly, in the New Testament itself. Let’s take a closer look.

Dual Integrities

One of Luther’s early Reformation tracts was To the Christian Nobility of the German Nation Concerning the Reform of the Christian Estate. His central argument was that the princes had a right and duty to reform the church if the bishops failed to act. Before he could establish that point, however, Luther had to first address the position of the Catholic Church at the time which said that the clergy and their governing order actually stood in a superior relationship to the civil magistrates. This meant that the civil magistrates could not take any kind of leading role in the reform of the church and, in fact, that the clergy were largely immune from criminal prosecutions. (This latter point had been the cause for which Thomas Beckett gave his life.) For Luther, this dichotomy was entirely unchristian.

Insofar as a prince or king is a believer, then, according to Luther, they are a member of the body of Christ. Insofar as they are baptized, they are a members of the universal priesthood. He writes, “Since those who exercise secular authority have been baptized with the same baptism, and have the same faith and the same gospel as the rest of us, we must admit that they are priests and bishops and we must regard their office as one which has a proper and useful place in the Christian community” (Luther’s Works, Vol. 44, ed. Jaroslav Jan Pelikan, Hilton C. Oswald, and Helmut T. Lehmann, Fortress Press, 1999, pg. 129). Indeed, the primary difference between a bishop and a Christian magistrate is their vocation, their “office and work.” And so, it follows from this, that princes and kings ought to be permitted to do their jobs just as are metalworkers and shoemakers:

Therefore, just as those who are now called “spiritual,” that is, priests, bishops, or popes, are neither different from other Christians nor superior to them, except that they are charged with the administration of the word of God and the sacraments, which is their work and office, so it is with the temporal authorities. They bear the sword and rod in their hand to punish the wicked and protect the good. A cobbler, a smith, a peasant—each has the work and office of his trade, and yet they are all alike consecrated priests and bishops. Further, everyone must benefit and serve every other by means of his own work or office so that in this way many kinds of work may be done for the bodily and spiritual welfare of the community, just as all the members of the body serve one another [1 Cor. 12:14–26].

(Martin Luther, Luther’s Works, Vol. 44, 130)

A few years later, Luther repeated this same perspective in his work, Temporal Authority: To What Extent It Should Be Obeyed:

For the sword and authority, as a particular service of God, belong more appropriately to Christians than to any other men on earth. Therefore, you should esteem the sword or governmental authority as highly as the estate of marriage, or husbandry, or any other calling which God has instituted. Just as one can serve God in the estate of marriage, or in farming or a trade, for the benefit of others—and must so serve if his neighbor needs it—so one can serve God in government, and should there serve if the needs of his neighbor demand it. For those who punish evil and protect the good are God’s servants and workmen.

(Luther’s Works, Vol. 45, 100)

For Luther, the “two kingdoms,” do not match up with the church as the spiritual kingdom and the state as the earthly kingdom. No, instead, the spiritual kingdom is the internal realm, the truly spiritual arena of the heart and soul. The temporal kingdom, then, has to do with all sorts of external matters, especially those matters which are still impacted by the effects of sin. Ideally speaking, true Christians have no need of laws, but insofar as sin is a reality, then law must also be a reality. And in this reality, Christians can be lawyers and law enforcers. A Christian ruler lives in both kingdoms, and he can carry out his earthly rule as a Christian and for Christian reasons.

The clergy do, however, have a certain sort of spiritual specialization in their job. While they do have external and temporal needs and duties, their primary vocational focus is on the ministry of the word. As such, ministers should not get entangled in “earthly” matters but should instead stick to their job of preaching and teaching about spiritual matters. Luther extends this even to marriage counseling. In a small work called On Marriage Matters, Luther says something that might surprise modern readers, pastors included:

No one can deny that marriage is an external, worldly matter, like clothing and food, house and property, subject to temporal authority, as the many imperial laws enacted on the subject prove. Neither do I find any example in the New Testament where Christ or the apostles concerned themselves with such matters, except where they touched upon consciences, as did St. Paul in 1 Corinthians 7 [:1–24], and especially where unbelievers or non-Christians are concerned, for it is easy to deal with these and all matters among Christians or believers. But with non-Christians, with which the world is filled, you cannot move forward or backward without the sharp edge of the temporal sword. And what use would it be if we Christians set up a lot of laws and decisions, as long as the world is not subject to us and we have no authority over it?

Therefore I simply do not wish to become involved in such matters at all and beg everyone not to bother me with them.

(Luther’s Works, Vol. 46 , 265)

Now to be fair, Luther did go on to write the rest of his pamphlet on the topic. He didn’t pass over it in silence. He had a lot to say. But he maintains that whatever he does say needs to be understood as advice. It possesses no inherent authority. He may certainly not coerce anyone or bind their consciences. Luther can tell you where the category of sin is relevant for the grounds of marriage. He can tell you about the duties of husbands and wives. He can explain the various prohibited immoral actions. But beyond this, Luther does not want to weigh in. Luther does not believe clergy should be discussing property or family or community issues here. The elders of the church are not family court. “I will not withhold my opinion from you. Yet I give it with this condition… that I want to do this not as a judge, official, or regent, but by way of advice, such as I would in good conscience give as a special service to my good friends. So, if anyone wishes to follow this advice of mine, let him do so on his own responsibility… (Luther’s Works, Vol. 46, 267).

The Clericalism of Roman Catholicism

Standing opposite of this perspective is the papacy. Luther believes that one of the chief errors of Roman Catholicism is the way in which the pope has transformed the ministers of the church into earthly lords and magistrates. “I am horrified too by the example of the pope, who was the first to get mixed up in this business and has seized such worldly matters as his own to the point where he has become nothing but a worldly lord over emperors and kings” (Luther’s Works, Vol. 46, 265–266).

Even to this day, the Vatican is a city-state. There are ambassadors to the Holy See. The pope is a very small magistrate. In Luther’s day, this was much more obvious. Without invoking any figures of speech, Rome was an empire. Occasionally, the pope would even declare that Christians in a certain nation were free from the obligation to obey their king.

Another implication from this was that the princes of the church– the bishops– could enact and enforce laws, including laws that impacted temporal matters and social life. They could pronounce on matters of law and criminal justice, and their voice was presumed to be weightier than “secular” voices. (This approach has, with some irony, been replicated in the modern American context by fundamentalist Protestants.)

The same kind of complaint made by Luther also appeared in Reformation England. As one example, here is Thomas Becon, chancellor to Archbishop Cranmer:

For all these things pertain unto the worldly and civil regiment, and they are to be handled of temporal rulers, as Emperors, Kings. Princes, Lordes, &c. So to appoint them, as shall be thought most convenient and meet for the maintenance and conservation of the public weal. But this spiritual regiment and Ecclesiastical power is appointed only for sin where the matter of sin is, there hath this regiment and power place: otherwise it hath nothing to do.

For of this must we greatly take head, that we make not a confusion in these two regiments, as the Pope and his bishops have done, which have so abused the spiritual regiment, yet they have also gotten unto them the temporal regiment and civil power, and are now become temporal lords, yea and of such power, that they make Emperors, Kings: Princes, Lords, &c. To be their subjects, yea their slaves, but Christ gave this never in commandment to his disciples, neither sent he them forth to meddle with temporal matters and with the Kingdoms of this world: But he only appointed unto them the ministry of the word, and with it the regiment of sin: so that their offices is nothing else, then to preach the Gospel of Christ, and to declare remission of sins to all such as are penitent, broken in heart, troubled in mind, disquieted in conscience, &c. Again, to retain hold, and bind their sins, that are impenitent, and stubborn, and go forth to sin without repentance or conversion unto a better life.

We can see some overlap between the “two kingdoms” and “two regiments” here. Becon is clearly talking about the “regiment” of the ministry on the one hand and the “regiment” of civil rulers on the other. But this did not imply, as we might assume today, that there should be a separation of church and state. No, the civil rulers in Becon’s day would have a very active role in the life of the church. The king would even select (or approve) the archbishop. The bishops could even participate in the House of Lords. Some might question whether that was entirely coherent. Different justifications were offered. (John Davenant argued that the civil authorities gifted this position to certain ecclesiastical leaders.) Whatever the solution, to be consistent on the level of principle, the church leaders must not claim any spiritual superiority for their political positions. They must “do politics” as citizens, not as peculiarly gifted by virtue of their ministerial ordination. Becon is clear. Christ did not give his disciples the commandment to carry out the office of political rule. If they did engage in legal action, this was itself a matter of earthly politics.

When we turn to the New Testament, it does seem that Jesus declines “civil regiment.” He is certainly a king. That is clear. At the end of history, in the eschaton, Jesus will rule with a rod. But while on earth, he declined the opportunity to be a judge or prince. Consider Luke 12:13-14, “And one of the company said unto him, Master, speak to my brother, that he divide the inheritance with me. And he said unto him, Man, who made me a judge or a divider over you?” When confronted with an economic dispute, Jesus said that this was not his job. In the very next verse, Jesus denounced covetousness. In other words, he pivoted away from the earthly legal or political question and addressed the spiritual or moral question. J D Vance would approve.

Conclusion

The greatest danger for clergymen engaging in politics is the possibility that someone, maybe even the clergyman himself, will assume that disagreement is sin. Surely in the case of the pope, someone who does not acknowledge the distinction between the two kingdoms, this is a grave danger. If the pope implies that a certain war is immoral, then would it not follow that all of those who believe him to hold spiritual authority should reject that war? And if they do not, then would it not also follow that they were in sin? If they love their souls more than their bodies, then they should listen to the pope and defy their political authority. But if the pope is wrong, then he has committed a grave injustice. He has harmed the consciences of those under him, and he has potentially also taken away legitimate authority from the earthly magistrate.

The Catholic solution here is rather tricky. A very idealist approach would have to say that the pope is always right. More realistic voices say that the pope really only has his full authority under extremely regulated and limited conditions– conditions so narrow as to be very unlikely to affect anyone today. This option runs the risk of proving too much, however, as the power of the papacy becomes entirely abstract and potential, never real.

The third option, which is invariably what most people choose, is the one that instinctively appealed to Vice President Vance. That winning option is called historic Protestantism.