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Albrecht Peters, book reviews, catechesis, Catechisms, concordia publishing house, heidelberg germany, history, Martin Luther, Shepherd's Study, theological faculty
Once more I am honored to have the most recent review to appear on “The Shepherd’s Study”, our synod’s continuing education resource blog for pastors. You can read it here.
It’s always refreshing to read work that approaches something as dear to our hearts as Luther’s Catechisms are, and yet still has something new to say and a new perspective. Peters certainly has that, and to spare. Anything that helps us impart and impress the doctrine of the Catechisms (which is the doctrine of Scripture, after all) on our people, especially our young people, is worth at least a look. Peters is worth more than that.

Here’s the full review, for those who prefer. Enjoy!
Commentary on Luther’s Catechisms: Ten Commandments, by Albrecht Peters. St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2009, 333 pages.
Professor Dr. Albrecht Peters was a longtime member of the theological faculty of the Ruprecht-Karls-Universität in Heidelberg, Germany.
Perhaps the hardest thing in the world to see, really open one’s eyes and see, is what’s most familiar. Whenever the overly familiar, the old standbys, the tried-and-true present themselves, we might resist the urge to yawn and go looking for something more exciting or more “relevant.” In 21st century America, to paraphrase our Lord’s words, “No one after drinking the new wine wants the old, for he says, ‘The new is better.’” …But what if the old is better? Are we in danger of discarding something useful? The trick is to know and appreciate just how precious our heritage is—and how familiarity can dull our eyes to the gifts our forefathers left us.
For that reason, works such as Albrecht Peters’ are useful for us. While Peters speaks about the familiar catechetical heritage we use constantly in Luther’s Catechisms – and overall he does a worthwhile job – he does so with a vocabulary and accents that may sound a little strange to our ears. This is not necessarily a bad thing. It’s bracing and invigorating to hear someone with as talented and formidable a mind as Peters grapple with the same truths we grew up on, yet approach them from angles that can surprise us. Reading this book felt similar to taking a different seat at the dinner table than the one you normally occupy: the fare on the table’s the same, the company’s the same, the setting is the same, and yet it all looks new.
For that reason alone, Peters’ commentaries on the Catechisms are worth reading. This reviewer had initially feared a Talmudic approach to the Catechisms, at the expense of Scripture, but this proved not to be the case. Peters still balances Catechism, Word, and scholarly research in a perspective that’s different for us. This yields fresh insights, especially for those who are accustomed to thinking that they’ve already gotten everything out of the Catechisms (perhaps most of all, the Small Catechism) that there is to be had. Peters’ exegesis on the arrangement of the Small Catechism, for instance, will have the catechist nodding his head in agreement. Peters draws out the structure that we always knew was there, but had never elaborated so clearly. For we who preach and teach the truths of the Catechism week in and week out, such fresh insights are positively priceless.
Part of this effect comes from the style of language in which this volume was written. Immediately upon picking it up, one senses that this was not a book composed in English. In many places the language style is dense and scholarly with a distinctly Germanic way of joining clauses and phrases. It can verge on impenetrable at times. However, this matter of style should not dissuade anyone from picking up the book. One gets used to it as the book goes on. There are even times when what was written and translated strikes the reader almost as poetry. Perhaps my favorite instance of this in the entire book comes when Peters describes the ways in which the First Commandment was recorded in Scripture: “We lead our lives ‘facing’ the zealous holy God whose eyes penetrate the abysses of our heart that are hidden to us” (p.111).
Part of the foreign tone that Peters’ style has in this volume comes from his embracing of historical-critical methodologies and vocabulary. The publisher’s preface, which alerts the reader to this facet of Peters’ work, had this reviewer bracing for the worst right from the start. However, forewarned is forearmed, and such historical-critical comments are easy to discard when the reader encounters them. They actually do not impair the reading of the book all that much. In fact, this reviewer discovered that historical-critical jargon, when encountered, could actually serve a positive purpose. The strange nature of historical-critical language afforded another opportunity to view Luther’s work from a different angle. It was amazing how often Peters would note the same things we value about Luther’s work, while showing Peters’ other preoccupations, only some of which were drawn from historical criticism. It was a reminder that not everybody approaches Luther’s catechisms (or Lutheranism in general, for that matter) from the same viewpoint that we do.
Peters also places Luther more accurately than we sometimes do in the stream of Christian tradition. His research allowed him to identify where Luther stood with his predecessors in certain interpretations and approaches to teaching, and where Luther diverged or contributed new insights. Many of Luther’s most memorable formulations are of his own coining (e.g. “we should not despise preaching and His Word” in the explanation of the Third Commandment).
Perhaps most revealing was how often Luther remained conventional in his interpretation. He actually changed little that was handed down in the traditional catechesis of the church, while at the same time putting his own indelible stamp on it. We see this in the way Luther would often use the Gospels heard in worship as proof texts in the catechisms. For example, Luther used Matthew 5:20-26, the Gospel for the Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity, to drive home the true meaning of the Fifth Commandment – something that Peter Lombard, Thomas Aquinas, and Bonaventure (to name a few) had done in the past (97). Luther was able to do this because of the rich pastoral and practical content of the historic pericopes. The historic readings line up well with the church’s program of catechesis by selecting texts and regularly repeating them. Many in modern Lutheranism are rediscovering the same synergistic benefits between lectionary, catechisms, and what the people learn in our own day.
One side benefit of reading this book is imbibing large sections of Luther’s writing. The reader encounters Luther again and again, not just Peters. The church fathers, ancient and medieval, also have many gems scattered throughout the book as Peters draws on their catechetical work extensively. Peters, Luther, and the fathers provide much to tuck away for future use in preaching or teaching. Of special interest to this reviewer was Luther’s illustration of two pouches with four pockets. The first pouch, faith, has two pockets, one for original sin, the other for Christ as Redeemer; the second pouch, love, has two pockets, one for good works to serve our neighbor and one for suffering under the cross (35).
We’ve all heard Luther’s urging never to be done with the Small Catechism, and Peters has done us a service by showing us how. By bringing the Catechism, and thus the Word, into our pupils’ homes and lives, we shape and mold young souls for God. Peters can help provide variety and encouragement in this vital task.
For reviews of other books in the Commentary on Luther’s Catechisms series, please be sure to visit the following:
- Commentary on Luther’s Catechisms: Lord’s Prayer (Reviewer: Pr. Ben Schaefer)
- Commentary on Luther’s Catechisms: Creed (Reviewer: Pr. Souksamay Phetsanghane)










Simon is called the Zealot in several places, and also Cananean, which is an Aramaic version of a Hebrew word that means, zealous. So one way or another, this is how he was known: Simon the Zealot. This could mean that he belonged to a radical political party called the Zealots. They were extreme Jewish nationalists, who hated the Romans worse than anything and were ready to attack them at times. In the eyes of most people the Zealots verged on being terrorists. Simon could have belonged to that group. Or he could have just been very eager and fired up to follow Jesus. Or he could have been very laid back and easygoing, and the other apostles called him that to rib him about it. We don’t know for sure. All we have for sure with Simon is his name.
With Jude, we have a little more, but not much more. It seems that Judas not Iscariot’s name was shortened slightly over time to avoid confusing him with Judas Iscariot, which no one wanted to do. Jude or Judas or Judah – all those names are basically the same, — was also called Thaddeus, which is a Greek form of his Hebrew name. Scholars debate whether or not the New Testament epistle of Jude was written by him. It certainly could have. The Biblical evidence fits. What’s more intriguing, although not much more certain, is that both Jude and Simon could have been half-brothers or cousins of the Lord Jesus. In Matthew 13:55, the people of Nazareth name Jesus’ brothers as James, Joseph, Simon, and Judas (or Jude). So both Simon and Jude could have been related to Jesus in some way. They may have followed Him and only later, after He rose from the dead, did they realize who their Brother really was. Or the Simon and Jude mentioned as brothers of the Lord might be different than Simon and Jude the apostles. It’s intriguing, and the Biblical evidence could be taken either way. Again, we don’t know a whole lot about Jude beyond that.
Simon and Jude understood all this far better after Christ rose from the dead, and after Pentecost. They understood how God’s kingdom truly grows and He is glorified. It’s not by big, flashy, outward results, at least not usually; it’s by a lifetime of faithful, joyful confession of His Word and living out that Word every day – believing in His Word and keeping His commands, despite everything the world throws at you: opposition, hatred, sneers and whispers, and even the threat of a martyr’s death. Maybe even an actual martyr’s death. Simon and Jude were killed because of their faith in Christ, just like all the apostles except John, and he died in exile, far away from his home and family.
Today is the feast of Ignatius of Antioch, a bishop (pastor) who was killed for his confession of the faith in the first century. Even though they’d never heard of him, I told the catechism students his story tonight, and we talked about how his whole life was oriented toward the simple prayer, “Hallowed be Thy name.” That was the whole goal of his life, of what he taught, and ultimately of his death. I also tied Ignatius’ teaching to the 4th Commandment, which some of the students also studied tonight, because if you read his letters his constant refrain is, “Do nothing without the bishop” — i.e., listen to your pastor and do as he says because he’s teaching and leading you in God’s Word. The same faith that he confessed and died for is what you students are learning now, I told them. As I related his story, I was reminded again of the power of a good example. Here is someone who did not back down from confessing Christ, even to the point of death — and he went gladly. His letters bear no trace of panic or regret or sorrow at his impending martyrdom. He simply accepts it, and rejoices, based on the promises of Christ his Lord. That’s what we’re trying to instill in you, I told the students: that you would live your whole lives in service to God and be ready to lay down your life for Him, if it comes to that. The saints who went before us are useful chiefly as good examples. They encourage us to take up our duties and face our challenges with renewed vigor and strength, and if our challenges are not equal to theirs in severity, neither is our strength equal to theirs — but we all have challenges to our faith. Each of us can be faithful in his or her own little way, in whatever corner of God’s kingdom we’re in. (God grant it.)
Jesus ends this struggle beautifully. He says, “Take heart, child – have courage – your sins are forgiven! I, the Lord who kills and brings to life, who saves and destroys, I say so – and nobody can argue with Me or change My Word! Your sins are forgiven. God is not angry with you any longer – you are His dearly loved child.”
Then while they’re wondering how they’ll answer yet another one of Jesus’ unanswerable questions, He declares, “But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins…” Jesus doesn’t finish the sentence like we’d expect. Instead, He turns to the paralytic and says, “Get up, take your mat, and go home” – and he does. That paralyzed man walks out of that house carrying the stretcher he used to lie on all day. If you’ve ever wondered if the absolution that the pastor pronounces at the beginning of the service is any good, or if God’s Word really does forgive sins, or if humans even have any business saying that sins are forgiven, picture a man who had been paralyzed walking out of a crowded house carrying a stretcher. That should tell you everything you need to know.