Martin Luther and the Snow-Covered Dung Heap

An apocryphal quotation often attributed to Martin Luther is that the soul of a forgiven man is like a "snow-covered dung heap." If Luther ever uttered the phrase, it has since been lost to history. Still, the erroneous quote has lingered for several reasons. Luther did use similar images, but the actual quotations are far less pithy and memorable. Both Catholics and Protestants agree that it sounds like something Luther might have said. In fact, the last Lutheran service I attended included a hymn about how God had "covered my sins." This is a different understanding of forgiveness than the Catholic Church teaches, or that most other Christian Churches teach. In fact, it seems to be different from what the actual, historical Martin Luther taught.

The image of the Snow-Covered Dung Heap implies that forgiveness is superficial. To see why this is wrong, imagine a heaven full of snow-covered dung heaps. Nobody has had an internal conversion, but our sinfulness is merely obscured by God's forgiveness. That doesn't sound like the God who is the Truth and the Light of the World. It doesn't sound like the God who commanded us to "be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect." (Matthew 5:48)

Martin Luther in his 95 Theses calls Christians to true repentance. "[T]he whole life of believers should be repentance." (Thesis 1) Luther's concept of repentance is not merely superficial, but neither is it entirely inward. "[T]here is no inward repentance which does not outwardly work divers mortifications of the flesh." (Thesis 3) So, inward repentance and outward repentance are inseparable. Luther concludes his Theses by saying that we can "be confident of entering into heaven rather through many tribulations, than through the assurance of peace." (Thesis 95)

The assurance of peace that Luther refers to is the practice of selling indulgences (Thesis 35) as well as the sacrament of confession (Thesis 2). Luther mentions both of these practices, and repudiates neither. He fervently affirms the practice of selling indulgences in Thesis 71. Yet, he fails to make the connection between buying an indulgence and alms-giving. When you buy an indulgence, you are making a sacrifice for the good of the Church. That money may be used to restore St. Peter's Basilica, or it may be used to feed the poor. In Luther's time, the former was more common. Buying an indulgence can not buy the forgiveness of your sins (see 1472 and 1473 of the Catholic Catechism), but it can be part of the process of internal conversion that Luther valued so highly.

There are some differences here between Luther and the Catholic Church on the issue of forgiveness and repentance, but the analogy of a "snow-covered dung heap" seems to obscure rather than illuminate those differences. Perhaps, with difficulty, you can reconcile it with Lutheran or Catholic theology, but that defeats the purpose of using an analogy.