What is a theology of glory?

A theology of glory is an approach to God that assumes God’s work in this world can be identified through great and impressive things—strength, wisdom, honor, growth, achievement, etc. If a ministry is expanding and continually growing its influence and resources, then a theologian of glory will identify that as God’s working through that ministry. If a Christian achieves great honor and amasses authority in this world, a theologian of glory will assume that person is blessed by God.

Martin Luther coined the idea of a theology of glory in his Heidelberg Disputation of 1518. In that document, he contrasted a theology of glory (theologia gloriae) with what he called a theology of the cross (theologia crucis). Luther drew a sharp line between the two: “A theology of glory calls evil good and good evil. A theology of the cross calls the thing what it actually is” (Heidelberg Disputation, Thesis 21, https://thebookofconcord.org/sources-and-context/heidelberg-disputation, accessed 6/24/26).

According to a theology of glory, God “shows up” in tangible, measurable ways that impress us. As proof that God is at work, a theology of glory points to things like these:

• a church builds a huge new worship center
• a miraculous healing occurs
• a Christian candidate wins election for political office
• a believer receives a job promotion and a bigger salary
• a storm dissipates before it hits a town

In the sixteenth century, Martin Luther pushed back against this type of thinking. Just because the established church owned grandiose cathedrals and its coffers were overflowing with gold did not mean that God was blessing the pope. According to Luther, that type of thinking leads to pride: “That wisdom which sees the invisible things of God in works as perceived by man is completely puffed up, blinded, and hardened” (ibid., Thesis 22).

What happens when things don’t turn out in a way that pleases us? Is God still at work, even when these things happen?:

• a church goes bankrupt and has to close its doors
• prayers for healing go unanswered for years
• a Christian candidate loses an election to a corrupt politician
• a believer loses his or her job
• a storm hits a town, causing widespread devastation

Luther’s alternative to a theology of glory was a theology of the cross. In this way of thinking, God is primarily known through suffering, weakness, and apparent defeat. Christ did not save us through worldly success; He did not come as a conquering hero. A theology of the cross acknowledges that God’s salvation is revealed in Christ’s death, and it looks for God’s presence amid our own suffering and pain as well.

Elisabeth Elliot, in her book These Strange Ashes, wrote of the Christian experience of suffering: “To be a follower of the Crucified means, sooner or later, a personal encounter with the cross. And the cross always entails loss. The great symbol of Christianity means sacrifice and no one who calls himself a Christian can evade this stark fact” (Vine Books, 1998, p. 145).

A theologian of the cross, wrote Luther, “comprehends the visible and manifest things of God seen through suffering and the cross” (ibid., Thesis 20). In contrast, a theologian of glory is one “who looks upon the invisible things of God as though they were clearly perceptible in those things which have actually happened” (ibid., Thesis 19).

The main problem with a theology of glory is that it tends to suppose that God will reveal Himself in ways that match our own expectations or that conform to our definition of what is “great.”

The apostle Paul reminded the church that God works not through human wisdom and power but through what seems to be foolish and weak:

“Truly, you are a God who hides himself” (Isaiah 45:15, ESV), and a theology of the cross would say that God hides Himself in suffering. Luther used Jesus’ conversation with Philip to further contrast the theology of glory with the theology of the cross:

We cannot evaluate a ministry based only on external, visible signs of success. God’s glory is not readily apparent to the human eye: “We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us” (2 Corinthians 4:7).

Blogger Travis Allen describes the theology of the cross as that which “recognizes God’s work as a subverting work, one that overturns human pride, thwarts human wisdom, and acts opposite of human expectation. The suffering of the cross—what is truly visible and manifest about God—is not impressive by any measure of man. That which is humble and weak and low and unimpressive—namely, the stuff of suffering—is not something that grabs attention, fills your conference, gains a following, or builds your fan base. But that’s the way of the cross, which is God’s true work, demonstrated ‘in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption’ (1 Corinthians 1:30)” (“The Sin of Counting,” 10/18/11, www.gty.org/blogs/B111018/the-sin-of-counting, accessed 6/24/26).

The Christian life is not one of constant victory and measurable success. It is a life of taking up one’s cross and denying ourselves (Mark 8:34). The path to glory comes through suffering, persecution, trials, and hardship (see Acts 9:16; 14:22).

Songwriter Laura Story sings of a theology of the cross in “Blessings”: