Chapter 7 : Luther’s Separation from Rome

Foremost among those who were called to lead the church from

the darkness of popery into the light of a purer faith, stood Martin

Luther. Zealous, ardent, and devoted, knowing no fear but the fear

of God, and acknowledging no foundation for religious faith but the

Holy Scriptures, Luther was the man for his time; through him, God

accomplished a great work for the reformation of the church and the

enlightenment of the world.

Like the first heralds of the gospel, Luther sprung from the

ranks of poverty. His early years were spent in the humble home

of a German peasant. By daily toil as a miner, his father earned

the means for his education. He intended him for a lawyer; but

God purposed to make him a builder in the great temple that was

rising so slowly through the centuries. Hardship, privation, and

severe discipline were the school in which Infinite Wisdom prepared

Luther for the important mission of his life.

Luther’s father was a man of strong and active mind, and great

force of character, honest, resolute, and straightforward. He was true

to his convictions of duty, let the consequences be what they might.

His sterling good sense led him to regard the monastic system with

distrust. He was highly displeased when Luther, without his consent,

entered a monastery; and it was two years before the father was

reconciled to his son, and even then his opinions remained the same.

Luther’s parents bestowed great care upon the education and

training of their children. They endeavored to instruct them in the [121]

knowledge of God and the practice of Christian virtues. The father’s

prayer often ascended in the hearing of his son, that the child might

remember the name of the Lord, and one day aid in the advancement

of his truth. Every advantage for moral or intellectual culture which

their life of toil permitted them to enjoy, was eagerly improved by

these parents. Their efforts were earnest and persevering to prepare

their children for a life of piety and usefulness. With their firmness

and strength of character they sometimes exercised too great severity;

but the reformer himself, though conscious that in some respects

they had erred, found in their discipline more to approve than to

condemn.

At school, where he was sent at an early age, Luther was treated

with harshness and even violence. So great was the poverty of his

parents, that upon going from home to school in another town he was

for a time obliged to obtain his food by singing from door to door,

and he often suffered from hunger. The gloomy, superstitious ideas

of religion then prevailing filled him with fear. He would lie down

at night with a sorrowful heart, looking forward with trembling to

the dark future, and in constant terror at the thought of God as a

stern, unrelenting judge, a cruel tyrant, rather than a kind heavenly

Father. Yet under so many and so great discouragements, Luther

pressed resolutely forward toward the high standard of moral and

intellectual excellence which attracted his soul.

He thirsted for knowledge, and the earnest and practical character

of his mind led him to desire the solid and useful rather than

the showy and superficial. When, at the age of eighteen, he entered

the University of Erfurt, his situation was more favorable and his

prospects brighter than in his earlier years. His parents having by

thrift and industry acquired a competence, they were able to render

him all needed assistance. And the influence of judicious friends had

[122] somewhat lessened the gloomy effects of his former training. He

applied himself to the study of the best authors, diligently treasuring

their most weighty thoughts, and making the wisdom of the wise his

own. Even under the harsh discipline of his former instructors, he

had early given promise of distinction; and with favorable influences

his mind rapidly developed. A retentive memory, a lively imagination,

strong reasoning powers, and untiring application, soon placed

him in the foremost rank among his associates. Intellectual discipline

ripened his understanding, and aroused an activity of mind and

a keenness of perception that were preparing him for the conflicts of

his life.

The fear of the Lord dwelt in the heart of Luther, enabling him

to maintain his steadfastness of purpose, and leading him to deep

humility before God. He had an abiding sense of his dependence

upon divine aid, and he did not fail to begin each day with prayer,

Luther’s Separation from Rome 103

while his heart was continually breathing a petition for guidance and

support. “To pray well,” he often said, “is the better half of study.”

While one day examining the books in the library of the university,

Luther discovered a Latin Bible. Such a book he had never

before seen. He was ignorant even of its existence. He had heard

portions of the Gospels and Epistles, which were read to the people

at public worship, and he supposed that these were the entire Bible.

Now, for the first time, he looked upon the whole of God’s Word.

With mingled awe and wonder he turned the sacred pages; with

quickened pulse and throbbing heart he read for himself the words

of life, pausing now and then to exclaim, “Oh, if God would give

me such a book for my own!” Angels of Heaven were by his side,

and rays of light from the throne of God revealed the treasures of

truth to his understanding. He had ever feared to offend God, but

now the deep conviction of his condition as a sinner took hold upon

him as never before.

An earnest desire to be free from sin and to find peace with God,

led him at last to enter a cloister, and devote himself to a monastic [123]

life. Here he was required to perform the lowest drudgery, and

to beg from house to house. He was at an age when respect and

appreciation are most eagerly craved, and these menial offices were

deeply mortifying to his natural feelings; but he patiently endured

this humiliation, believing that it was necessary because of his sins.

Every moment that could be spared from his daily duties he

employed in study, robbing himself of sleep, and grudging even the

time spent at his scanty meals. Above everything else he delighted

in the study of God’s Word. He had found a Bible chained to the

convent wall, and to this he often repaired. As his convictions of

sin deepened, he sought by his own works to obtain pardon and

peace. He led a most rigorous life, endeavoring, by fasting, vigils,

and scourgings, to subdue the evils of his nature, from which the

monastic life had brought no release. He shrank from no sacrifice

by which he might attain to that purity of heart which would enable

him to stand approved before God. “I was indeed a pious monk,”

he afterward said, “and followed the rules of my order more strictly

than I can express. If ever monk could attain Heaven by his monkish

works, I should certainly have been entitled to it. If I had continued

much longer, I should have carried my mortifications even to death.”

As the result of this painful discipline, he lost strength, and suffered

from fainting spasms, from the effects of which he never fully recovered.

But with all his efforts, his burdened soul found no relief.

He was at last driven to the verge of despair.

When it appeared to Luther that all was lost, God raised up a

friend and helper for him. The pious Staupitz opened the Word

of God to Luther’s mind, and bade him look away from himself,

cease the contemplation of infinite punishment for the violation of

God’s law, and look to Jesus, his sin-pardoning Saviour. “Instead

of torturing yourself on account of your sins, cast yourself into the

arms of your Redeemer. Trust in him,—in the righteousness of his

[124] life,—in the atonement of his death. Listen to the Son of God. He

became man to give you the assurance of divine favor.” “Love him

who has first loved you.” Thus spoke this messenger of mercy. His

words made a deep impression upon Luther’s mind. After many

a struggle with long-cherished errors, he was enabled to grasp the

truth, and peace came to his troubled soul.

Luther was ordained a priest, and was called from the cloister

to a professorship in the University of Wittenberg. Here he applied

himself to the study of the Scriptures in the original tongues. He

began to lecture upon the Bible; and the book of Psalms, the Gospels,

and the Epistles were opened to the understanding of crowds of

delighted listeners. Staupitz, his friend and superior, urged him to

ascend the pulpit, and preach the Word of God. Luther hesitated,

feeling himself unworthy to speak to the people in Christ’s stead. It

was only after a long struggle that he yielded to the solicitations of

his friends. Already he was mighty in the Scriptures, and the grace

of God rested upon him. His eloquence captivated his hearers, the

clearness and power with which he presented the truth convinced

their understanding, and his fervor touched their hearts.

Luther was still a true son of the papal church, and had no thought

that he would ever be anything else. In the providence of God he

was led to visit Rome. He pursued his journey on foot, lodging at

the monasteries on the way. At a convent in Italy he was filled with

wonder at the wealth, magnificence, and luxury that he witnessed.

Endowed with a princely revenue, the monks dwelt in splendid

apartments, attired themselves in the richest and most costly robes,

and feasted at a sumptuous table. With painful misgivings Luther

contrasted this scene with the self-denial and hardship of his own

life. His mind was becoming perplexed.

At last he beheld in the distance the seven-hilled city. With deep

emotion he prostrated himself upon the earth, exclaiming, “Holy

Rome, I salute thee!” He entered the city, visited the churches, lis- [125]

tened to the marvelous tales repeated by priests and monks, and

performed all the ceremonies required. Everywhere he looked upon

scenes that filled him with astonishment and horror. He saw that

iniquity existed among all classes of the clergy. He heard indecent

jokes from prelates, and was filled with horror at their awful profanity,

even during mass. As he mingled with the monks and citizens,

he met dissipation, debauchery. Turn where he would, in the place

of sanctity he found profanation. “It is incredible,” he wrote, “what

sins and atrocities are committed in Rome; they must be seen and

heard to be believed. So that it is usual to say, ‘If there be a hell,

Rome is built above it. It is an abyss whence all sins proceed.”

By a recent decretal, an indulgence had been promised by the

pope to all who should ascend upon their knees “Pilate’s staircase,”

said to have been descended by our Saviour on leaving the Roman

judgment-hall, and to have been miraculously conveyed from

Jerusalem to Rome. Luther was one day devoutly climbing these

steps, when suddenly a voice like thunder seemed to say to him,

“The just shall live by faith.” [Romans 1:17.] He sprung upon his

feet, and hastened from the place, in shame and horror. That text

never lost its power upon his soul. From that time he saw more

clearly than ever before the fallacy of trusting to human works for

salvation, and the necessity of constant faith in the merits of Christ.

His eyes had been opened, and were never again to be closed, to

the delusions of the papacy. When he turned his face from Rome,

he had turned away also in heart, and from that time the separation

grew wider, until he severed all connection with the papal church.

After his return from Rome, Luther received at the University of

Wittenberg the degree of doctor of divinity. Now he was at liberty to

devote himself, as never before, to the Scriptures that he loved. He

had taken a solemn vow to study carefully and to preach with fidelity

the Word of God, not the sayings and doctrines of the popes, all [126]

the days of his life. He was no longer the mere monk or professor,

but the authorized herald of the Bible. He had been called as a

shepherd to feed the flock of God, that were hungering and thirsting

for the truth. He firmly declared that Christians should receive no

other doctrines than those which rest on the authority of the Sacred

Scriptures. These words struck at the very foundation of papal

supremacy. They contained the vital principle of the Reformation.

Luther saw the danger of exalting human theories above the

Word of God. He fearlessly attacked the speculative infidelity of the

schoolmen, and opposed the philosophy and theology which had so

long held a controlling influence upon the people. He denounced

such studies as not only worthless but pernicious, and sought to turn

the minds of his hearers from the sophistries of philosophers and

theologians to the eternal truths set forth by prophets and apostles.

Precious was the message which he bore to the eager crowds

that hung upon his words. Never before had such teaching fallen

upon their ears. The glad tidings of a Saviour’s love, the assurance

of pardon and peace through his atoning blood, rejoiced their hearts,

and inspired within them an immortal hope. At Wittenberg a light

was kindled whose rays should extend to the uttermost parts of the

earth, and which was to increase in brightness to the close of time.

But light and darkness cannot harmonize. Between truth and

error there is an irrepressible conflict. To uphold and defend the one

is to attack and overthrow the other. Our Saviour himself declared,

“I came not to send peace, but a sword.” [Matthew 10:34.] Said

Luther, a few years after the opening of the Reformation, “God does

not conduct, but drives me forward. I am not master of my own

actions. I would gladly live in repose, but I am thrown into the midst

of tumults and revolutions.” He was now about to be urged into the

contest.

[127] The Roman Church had made merchandise of the grace of God.

The tables of the money-changers [Matthew 21:12.] were set up

beside her altars, and the air resounded with the shouts of buyers and

sellers. Under the plea of raising funds for the erection of St. Peter’s

church at Rome, indulgences for sin were publicly offered for sale

by the authority of the pope. By the price of crime a temple was to

be built up for God’s worship,—the corner-stone laid with the wages

of iniquity. But the very means adopted for Rome’s aggrandizement

provoked the deadliest blow to her power and greatness. It was

this that aroused the most determined and successful of the enemies

of popery, and led to the battle which shook the papal throne, and

jostled the triple crown upon the pontiff’s head.

The official appointed to conduct the sale of indulgences in Germany—

Tetzel by name—had been convicted of the basest offenses

against society and against the law of God; but having escaped the

punishment due to his crimes, he was employed to further the mercenary

and unscrupulous projects of the pope. With great effrontery he

repeated the most glaring falsehoods, and related marvelous tales to

deceive an ignorant, credulous, and superstitious people. Had they

possessed theWord of God, they would not have been thus deceived.

It was to keep them under the control of the papacy, in order to swell

the power and wealth of her ambitious leaders, that the Bible had

been withheld from them.

As Tetzel entered a town, a messenger went before him, announcing,

“The grace of God and of the holy father is at your gates.”

And the people welcomed the blasphemous pretender as if he were

God himself come down from Heaven to them. The infamous traffic

was set up in the church, and Tetzel, ascending the pulpit, extolled

indulgences as the most precious gift of God. He declared that by

virtue of his certificates of pardon, all the sins which the purchaser

should afterward desire to commit would be forgiven him, and that

“even repentance was not indispensable.” More than this, he assured [128]

his hearers that the indulgences had power to save not only the living

but the dead; that the very moment the money should clink against

the bottom of his chest, the soul in whose behalf it had been paid

would escape from purgatory and make its way to Heaven.

When Simon Magus offered to purchase of the apostles the

power to work miracles, Peter answered him, “Thy money perish

with thee, because thou hast thought that the gift of God may be

purchased with money.” [Acts 8:20.] But Tetzel’s offer was grasped

by eager thousands. Gold and silver flowed into his treasury. A

salvation that could be bought with money was more easily obtained

than that which requires repentance, faith, and diligent effort to resist

and overcome sin.

The doctrine of indulgences had been opposed by men of learning

and piety in the Romish Church, and there were many who had

no faith in pretensions so contrary to both reason and revelation.

No prelate dared lift his voice against this iniquitous traffic, but the

minds of men were becoming disturbed and uneasy, and many eagerly

inquired if God would not work through some instrumentality

for the purification of his church.

Luther, though still a papist of the straitest sort, was filled with

horror at the blasphemous assumptions of the indulgence-mongers.

Many of his own congregation had purchased certificates of pardon,

and they soon began to come to their pastor, confessing their various

sins, and expecting absolution, not because they were penitent and

wished to reform, but on the ground of the indulgence. Luther

refused them absolution, and warned them that unless they should

repent and reform their lives, they must perish in their sins. In

great perplexity they repaired to Tetzel with the complaint that their

confessor had refused his certificates; and some boldly demanded

that their money be returned to them. The friar was filled with rage.

He uttered the most terrible curses, caused fires to be lighted in the

[129] public squares, and declared that he had orders from the pope “to

burn the heretics who dared oppose his most holy indulgences.”

Luther now entered boldly upon his work as a champion of

the truth. His voice was heard from the pulpit in earnest, solemn

warning. He set before the people the offensive character of sin, and

taught them that it is impossible for man, by his own works, to lessen

its guilt or evade its punishment. Nothing but repentance toward

God and faith in Christ can save the sinner. The grace of Christ

cannot be purchased; it is a free gift. He counseled the people not to

buy the indulgences, but to look in faith to a crucified Redeemer. He

related his own painful experience on vainly seeking by humiliation

and penance to secure salvation, and assured his hearers that it was

by looking away from himself and believing in Christ that he found

peace and joy.

As Tetzel continued his traffic and his impious pretensions,

Luther determined upon a more effectual protest against these crying

abuses. An occasion soon offered. The castle church of Wittenberg

possessed many relics, which on certain holy days were exhibited

to the people, and full remission of sins was granted to all who

then visited the church and made confession. According on these

days the people in great numbers resorted thither. One of the most

important of these occasions, the festival of “All-Saints,” was approaching.

On the preceding day, Luther, joining the crowds that

were already making their way to the church, posted on its door

a paper containing ninety-five propositions against the doctrine of

indulgences. He declared his willingness to defend these theses next

day at the university, against all who should see fit to attack them.

His propositions attracted universal attention. They were read

and re-read and repeated in every direction. Great excitement was

created in the university and in the whole city. By these theses it

was shown that the power to grant the pardon of sin, and to remit

its penalty, had never been committed to the pope or to any other

man. The whole scheme was a farce,—an artifice to extort money [130]

by playing upon the superstitions of the people,—a device of Satan

to destroy the souls of all who should trust to its lying pretensions. It

was also clearly shown that the gospel of Christ is the most valuable

treasure of the church, and that the grace of God, therein revealed,

is freely bestowed upon all who seek it by repentance and faith.

Luther’s theses challenged discussion; but no one dared accept

the challenge. The questions which he proposed had in a few days

spread through all Germany, and in a few weeks they had sounded

throughout Christendom. Many devoted Romanists, who had seen

and lamented the terrible iniquity prevailing in the church, but had

to know how to arrest its progress, read the propositions with great

joy, recognizing in them the voice of God. They felt that the Lord

had graciously set his hand to arrest the rapidly swelling tide of

corruption that was issuing from the see of Rome. Princes and

magistrates secretly rejoiced that a check was to be put upon the

arrogant power which denied the right of appeal from its decisions.

But the sin-loving and superstitious multitudes were terrified as

the sophistries that had soothed their fears were swept away. Crafty

ecclesiastics, interrupted in their work of sanctioning crime, and

seeing their gains endangered, were enraged, and rallied to uphold

their pretensions. The reformer had bitter accusers to meet. Some

charged him with acting hastily and from impulse. Others accused

him of presumption, declaring that he was not directed of God, but

was acting from pride and forwardness. “Who does not know,” he

responded, “that one can seldom advance a new idea without having

some appearance of pride, and without being accused of exciting

quarrels? Why were Christ and all the martyrs put to death?—

Because they appeared proud despisers of the wisdom of the times

in which they lived, and because they brought forward new truths

without having first consulted the oracles of the old opinions.”

[131] Again he declared: “What I am doing will not be effected by the

prudence of man, but by the counsel of God. If the work be of God,

who shall stop it? If it be not, who shall forward it? Not my will,

not theirs, not ours, but thy will, holy Father who art in Heaven!”

Though Luther had been moved by the Spirit of God to begin his

work, he was not to carry it forward without severe conflicts. The

reproaches of his enemies, their misrepresentation of his purposes,

and their unjust and malicious reflections upon his character and

motives, came in upon him like an overwhelming flood; and they

were not without effect. He had felt confident that the leaders of

the people, both in the church and in the schools, would gladly

unite with him in efforts for reform. Words of encouragement from

those on high position had inspired him with joy and hope. Already

in anticipation he had seen a brighter day dawning for the church.

But encouragement had changed to reproach and condemnation.

Many dignitaries, both of Church and State, were convicted of the

truthfulness of his theses; but they soon saw that the acceptance of

these truths would involve great changes. To enlighten and reform

the people would be virtually to undermine the authority of Rome,

to stop thousands of streams now flowing into her treasury, and thus

greatly to curtail the extravagance and luxury of the papal leaders.

Furthermore, to teach the people to think and act as responsible

beings, looking to Christ alone for salvation, would overthrow the

pontiff’s throne, and eventually destroy their own authority. For

this reason they refused the knowledge tendered them of God, and

arrayed themselves against Christ and the truth by their opposition

to the man whom he had sent to enlighten them.

Luther trembled as he looked upon himself,—one man opposed

to the mightiest powers of earth. He sometimes doubted whether he

had indeed been led of God to set himself against the authority of the

church. “Who was I,” he writes, “to oppose the majesty of the pope,

[132] before whom the kings of the earth and the whole world trembled?”

“No one can know what I suffered in those first two years, and into

what dejection and even despair I was often plunged.” But he was

not left to become utterly disheartened. When human support failed,

he looked to God alone, and learned that he could lean in perfect

safety upon that all-powerful arm.

To a friend of the Reformation Luther wrote: “We cannot attain

to the understanding of Scripture either by study or by strength of

intellect. Therefore your first duty must be to begin with prayer.

Entreat the Lord to deign to grant you, in his rich mercy, rightly

to understand his Word. There is no other interpreter of the Word

but the Author of that Word himself. Even as he has said, ‘They

shall all be taught of God.’ Hope nothing from your study and the

strength of your intellect; but simply put your trust in God, and in

the guidance of his Spirit. Believe one who has made trial of this

matter.” Here is a lesson of vital importance to those who feel that

God has called them to present to others the solemn truths for this

time. These truths will stir the enmity of Satan, and of men who

love the fables that he has advised. In the conflict with the powers

of evil, there is need of something more than strength of intellect

and human wisdom.

When enemies appealed to custom and tradition, or to the assertions

and authority of the pope, Luther met them with the Bible, and

the Bible only. Here were arguments which they could not answer;

therefore the slaves of formalism and superstition clamored for his

blood, as the Jews had clamored for the blood of Christ. “He is a

heretic,” cried the Roman zealots; “it is a sin to allow him to live an

hour longer! Away with him at once to the scaffold!” But Luther

did not fall a prey to their fury. God had a work for him to do, and

angels of Heaven were sent to protect him. Many, however, who had

received from Luther the precious light, were made the objects of

Satan’s wrath, and for the truth’s sake fearlessly suffered torture and

death.

Luther’s teachings attracted the attention of thoughtful minds [133]

throughout all Germany. From his sermons and writings issued

beams of light which awakened and illuminated thousands. A living

faith was taking the place of the dead formalism in which the church

had so long been held. The people were daily losing confidence

in the superstitions of Romanism. The barriers of prejudice were

giving way. TheWord of God, by which Luther tested every doctrine

and every claim, was like a two-edged sword, cutting its way to the

hearts of the people. Everywhere there was awakening a desire for

spiritual progress. Everywhere was such a hungering and thirsting

after righteousness as had not been known for ages. The eyes of the

people, so long directed to human rites and earthly mediators, were

now turning, in penitence and faith, to Christ and him crucified.

This widespread interest aroused still further the fears of the

papal authorities. Luther received a summons to appear at Rome to

answer to the charge of heresy. The command filled his friends with

terror. They knew full well the danger that threatened him in that

corrupt city, already drunk with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus.

They protested against his going to Rome, and requested that he

receive his examination in Germany.

This arrangement was finally effected, and the pope’s legate was

appointed to hear the case. In the instructions communicated by the

pontiff to this official, it was stated that Luther had already been

declared a heretic. The legate was therefore charged to “prosecute

and reduce him to submission without delay.” If he should remain

steadfast, and the legate should fail to gain possession of his person,

he was empowered to “proscribe him in all places in Germany, to

put away, curse, and excommunicate all who were attached to him.”

And further, the pope directed his legate, in order entirely to root

out the pestilent heresy, to excommunicate all, of whatever dignity

[134] in Church or State, except the emperor, who should neglect to seize

Luther and his adherents, and deliver them up to the vengeance of

Rome.

Here is displayed the true spirit of popery. Not a trace of Christian

principle, or even of common justice, is to be seen in the whole

document. Luther was at a great distance from Rome; he had had

no opportunity to explain or defend his position; yet before his case

had been investigated, he was summarily pronounced a heretic, and,

in the same day, exhorted, accused, judged, and condemned; and

all this by the self-styled holy father, the only supreme, infallible

authority in Church or State!

At this time, when Luther so much needed the sympathy and

counsel of a true friend, God’s providence sent Melancthon to Wittenberg.

Young in years, modest and diffident in his manners,

Melancthon’s sound judgment, extensive knowledge, and winning

eloquence, combined with the purity and uprightness of his character,

won universal admiration and esteem. The brilliancy of his

talents was not more marked than his gentleness of disposition. He

soon became an earnest disciple of the gospel, and Luther’s most

trusted friend and valued supporter; his gentleness, caution, and

exactness serving as a complement to Luther’s courage and energy.

Their union in the work added strength to the Reformation, and was

a source of great encouragement to Luther.

Augsburg had been fixed upon as the place of trial, and the

reformer set out on foot to perform the journey thither. Serious fears

were entertained in his behalf. Threats had been made openly that

he would be seized and murdered on the way, and his friends begged

him not to venture. They even entreated him to leave Wittenberg

for a time, and find safety with those who would gladly protect him.

But he would not leave the position where God had placed him.

He must continue faithfully to maintain the truth, notwithstanding

the storms that were beating upon him. His language was: “I am

like Jeremiah, a man of strife and contention; but the more they [135]

increase their threatenings, the more they multiply my joy.... They

have already torn to pieces my honor and my good name. All I have

left is my wretched body; let them have it; they will then shorten my

life by a few hours. But as to my soul, they shall not have that. He

who resolves to bear the word of Christ to the world, must expect

death at every hour.”

The tidings of Luther’s arrival at Augsburg gave great satisfaction

to the papal legate. The troublesome heretic who was exciting the

attention of the whole world seemed now in the power of Rome, and

the legate determined that he should not escape. The reformer had

failed to provide himself with a safe-conduct. His friends urged him

not to appear before the legate without one, and they themselves

undertook to procure it from the emperor. The legate intended to

force Luther, if possible, to retract, or, failing in this, to cause him

to be conveyed to Rome, to share the fate of Huss and Jerome.

Therefore through his agents he endeavored to induce Luther to

appear without a safe-conduct, trusting himself to his mercy. This

the reformer firmly declined to do. Not until he had received the

document pledging him the emperor’s protection, did he appear in

the presence of the papal ambassador.

As a matter of policy, the Romanists had decided to attempt

to win Luther by an appearance of gentleness. The legate, in his

interviews with him, professed great friendliness; but he demanded

that Luther submit implicitly to the authority of the church, and

yield every point, without argument or question. He had not rightly

estimated the character of the man with whom he had to deal. Luther,

in reply, expressed his regard for the church, his desire for the truth,

his readiness to answer all objections to what he had taught, and to

submit his doctrines to the decision of certain leading universities.

But at the same time he protested against the cardinal’s course in

requiring him to retract without having proved him in error.

[136] The only response was, “Recant, recant.” The reformer showed

that his position was sustained by the Scriptures, and firmly declared

that he could not renounce the truth. The legate, unable to reply to

Luther’s arguments, overwhelmed him with a storm of reproaches,

gibes, and flattery, interspersed with quotations from tradition and

the sayings of the Fathers, granting the reformer no opportunity to

speak. Seeing that the conference, thus continued, would be utterly

futile, Luther finally obtained a reluctant permission to present his

answer in writing.

“In so doing,” said he, writing to a friend, “the oppressed find

double gain; first, what is written may be submitted to the judgment

of others; and second, one has a better chance of working on the

fears, if not on the conscience, of an arrogant and babbling despot,

who would otherwise overpower by his imperious language.” At

the next interview, Luther presented a clear, concise, and forcible

exposition of his views, fully supported by many quotations from

Scripture. This paper, after reading aloud, he handed to the cardinal,

who, however, cast it contemptuously aside, declaring it to be a

mass of idle words and irrelevant quotations. Luther, fully roused,

now met the haughty prelate on his own ground,—the traditions and

teachings of the church—and utterly overthrew his assumptions.

When the prelate saw that Luther’s reasoning was unanswerable,

he lost all self-control, and in a rage cried out: “Retract, or I will

send you to Rome, there to appear before the judges commissioned

to take cognizance of your case. I will excommunicate you and

all your partisans, and all who shall at any time countenance you,

and will cast them out of the church.” And he finally declared, in a

haughty and angry tone, “Retract, or return no more.”

The reformer promptly withdrew with his friends, thus declaring

plainly that no retraction was to be expected from him. This was

not what the cardinal had purposed. He had flattered himself that by

violence he could awe Luther to submission. Now, left alone with [137]

his supporters, he looked from one to another, in utter chagrin at the

unexpected failure of his schemes.

Luther’s efforts on this occasion were not without good results.

The large assembly present had opportunity to compare the two men,

and to judge for themselves of the spirit manifested by them, as well

as of the strength and truthfulness of their positions. How marked

the contrast! The reformer, simple, humble, firm, stood up in the

strength of God, having truth on his side; the pope’s representative,

self-important, overbearing, haughty, and unreasonable, was without

a single argument from the Scriptures, yet vehemently crying,

“Retract, or be sent to Rome for punishment.”

Notwithstanding Luther had secured a safe-conduct, the Romanists

were plotting to seize and imprison him. His friends urged that

as it was useless for him to prolong his stay, he should return to

Wittenberg without delay, and that the utmost caution should be

observed in order to conceal his intentions. He accordingly left

Augsburg before daybreak, on horseback, accompanied only by a

guide furnished him by the magistrate. With many forebodings he

secretly made his way through the dark and silent streets of the city.

Enemies, vigilant and cruel, were plotting his destruction. Would be

escape the snares prepared for him? Those were moments of anxiety

and earnest prayer. He reached a small gate in the wall of the city. It

was opened for him, and with his guide he passed through without

hindrance. Once safely outside, the fugitives hastened their flight,

and before the legate learned of Luther’s departure, he was beyond

the reach of his persecutors. Satan and his emissaries were defeated.

The man whom they had thought in their power was gone, escaped

as a bird from the snare of the fowler.

At the news of Luther’s escape, the legate was overwhelmed

with surprise and anger. He had expected to receive great honor for

his wisdom and firmness in dealing with this disturber of the church;

but his hope was disappointed. He gave expression to his wrath [138]

in a letter to Frederick, the Elector of Saxony, bitterly denouncing

Luther, and demanding that Frederick send the reformer to Rome or

banish him from Saxony.

In defense, Luther urged that the legate or the pope show him

his errors from the Scriptures, and pledged himself in the most

solemn manner to renounce his doctrines if they could be shown to

contradict the Word of God. And he expressed his gratitude to God

that he had been counted worthy to suffer in so holy a cause.

The elector had, as yet, little knowledge of the reformed doctrines,

but he was deeply impressed by the candor, force, and clearness

of Luther’s words; and, until the reformer should be proved to

be in error, Frederick resolved to stand as his protector. In reply to

the legate’s demand he wrote: “Since Doctor Martin has appeared

before you at Augsburg, you should be satisfied. We did not expect

that you would endeavor to make him retract without having convinced

him of his errors. None of the learned men in our principality

have informed us that Martin’s doctrine is impious, antichristian, or

heretical. We must refuse, therefore, either to send Luther to Rome

or to expel him from our States.”

The elector saw that there was a general breaking down of the

moral restraints of society. A great work of reform was needed.

The complicated and expensive arrangements to restrain and punish

crime would be unnecessary if men but acknowledged and obeyed

the requirements of God and the dictates of an enlightened conscience.

He saw that Luther was laboring to secure this object, and

he secretly rejoiced that a better influence was making itself felt in

the church.

He saw also that as a professor in the university Luther was

eminently successful. Only a year had passed since the reformer

posted his theses on the castle church, yet there was already a great

[139] falling off in the number of pilgrims that visited the church at the

festival of All-Saints. Rome had been deprived of worshipers and

offerings, but their place was filled by another class, who now came

to Wittenberg,—not pilgrims to adore her relics, but students to fill

her halls of learning. The writings of Luther had kindled everywhere

a new interest in the Holy Scriptures, and not only from all parts of

Germany, but from other lands, students flocked to the university.

Young men, coming in sight of Wittenberg for the first time, would

“raise their hands to heaven, and bless God for having caused the

light of truth to shine forth from Wittenberg, as in former ages from

Mount Zion, that it might penetrate to the most distant lands.”

Luther was as yet but partially converted from the errors of

Romanism. But as he compared the Holy Oracles with the papal

decrees and constitutions, he was filled with wonder. “I am reading,”

he wrote, “the decretals of the popes, and .... I know not whether the

pope is antichrist himself, or whether he is his apostle; so misrepresented

and even crucified does Christ appear in them.” Yet at this

time Luther was still a supporter of the Roman Church, and had no

thought that he would ever separate from her communion.

The reformer’s writings and his doctrine were extending to every

nation in Christendom. The work spread to Switzerland and Holland.

Copies of his writings found their way to France and Spain. In

England his teachings were received as the word of life. To Belgium

and Italy also the truth had extended. Thousands were awakening

from their death-like stupor to the joy and hope of a life of faith.

Rome became more and more exasperated by the attacks of

Luther, and it was declared by some of his fanatical opponents,

even by doctors in Catholic universities, that he who should kill the

rebellious monk would be without sin. One day a stranger, with a

pistol hidden under his cloak, approached the reformer, and inquired

why he went thus alone. “I am in the hands of God,” answered [140]

Luther. “He is my help and my shield. What can man do unto me?”

Upon hearing these words, the stranger turned pale, and fled away,

as from the presence of the angels of Heaven.

Rome was bent upon the destruction of Luther; but God was

his defense. His doctrines were heard everywhere,—in convents,

in cottages, in the castles of the nobles, in the universities, in the

palaces of kings; and noble men were rising on every hand to sustain

his efforts.

It was about this time that Luther, reading the works of Huss,

found that the great truth of justification by faith, which he himself

was seeking to uphold and teach, had been held by the Bohemian

reformer. “We have all,” said Luther, “Paul, Augustine, and myself,

been Hussites without knowing it.” “God will surely visit it upon

the world,” he continued, “that the truth was preached to it a century

ago, and burned.”

In an appeal to the emperor and nobility of Germany in behalf

of the Reformation of Christianity, Luther wrote concerning the

pope: “It is monstrous to see him who is called the vicar of Christ,

displaying a magnificence unrivaled by that of any emperor. Is this

to represent the poor and lowly Jesus or the humble St. Peter? The

pope, say they, is the lord of the world! But Christ, whose vicar he

boasts of being, said, ‘My kingdom is not of this world.’ Can the

dominions of a vicar extend beyond those of his superior?”

He wrote thus of the universities: “I fear much that the universities

will be found to be great gates leading down to hell, unless

they take diligent care to explain the Holy Scriptures, and to engrave

them in the hearts of our youth. I advise no one to place his child

where the Holy Scriptures are not regarded as the rule of life. Every

institution where the Word of God is not diligently studied, must

become corrupt.”

[141] This appeal was rapidly circulated throughout Germany, and

exerted a powerful influence upon the people. The whole nation was

stirred, and multitudes were roused to rally around the standard of

reform. Luther’s opponents, burning with a desire for revenge, urged

the pope to take decisive measures against him. It was decreed that

his doctrines should be immediately condemned. Sixty days were

granted the reformer and his adherents, after which, if they did not

recant, they were all to be excommunicated.

That was a terrible crisis for the Reformation. For centuries

Rome’s sentence of excommunication had struck terror to powerful

monarchs; it had filled mighty empires with woe and desolation.

Those upon whom its condemnation fell, were universally regarded

with dread and horror; they were cut off from intercourse with their

fellows, and treated as outlaws, to be hunted to extermination. Luther

was not blind to the tempest about to burst upon him; but he stood

firm, trusting in Christ to be his support and shield. With a martyr’s

faith and courage he wrote: “What is about to happen I know not,

and I care not to know.” “Wherever the blow may reach me. I fear

not. Not so much as a leaf falls without the will of our Father; how

much rather will he care for us! It is a light matter to die for the

Word, since this Word, that was made flesh for us, hath himself died.

If we die with him, we shall live with him; and, passing through that

which he has passed through before us, we shall be where he is, and

dwell with him forever.”

When the papal bull reached Luther, he said: “I despise it, and

resist it, as impious and false.... It is Christ himself who is condemned

therein.” “I glory in the prospect of suffering for the best of

causes. Already I feel greater liberty; for I know now that the pope

is antichrist, and that his throne is that of Satan himself.”

Yet the mandate of Rome was not without effect. Prison, torture,

and sword were weapons potent to enforce obedience. The weak and

superstitious trembled before the decree of the pope, and while there

was general sympathy for Luther, many felt that life was too dear to [142]

be risked in the cause of reform. Everything seemed to indicate that

the reformer’s work was about to close.

But Luther was fearless still. Rome had hurled her anathemas

against him, and the world looked on, nothing doubting that he would

perish or be forced to yield. But with terrible power he flung back

upon herself the sentence of condemnation, and publicly declared

his determination to abandon her forever. In the presence of a crowd

of students, doctors, and citizens of all ranks, Luther burned the

pope’s bull, with the canon laws, the decretals, and certain writings

sustaining the papal power. “My enemies have been able by burning

my books,” he said, “to injure the cause of truth in the minds of

some, and to destroy souls; for this reason I consume their books in

return. A serious struggle has just commenced. Hitherto I have been

playing with the pope; now I wage open war. I began this work in

God’s name; it will be ended without me, and by his might.”

To the reproaches of his enemies, who taunted him with the

weakness of his cause, Luther answered: “Who knows if God has

not chosen and called me to perform this needed work, and if these

babblers ought not to fear that by despising me, they despise God

himself? They say I am alone; no, for Jehovah is with me. In their

sense, Moses was alone at the departure from Egypt; Elijah was

alone in the reign of King Ahab; Isaiah was alone in Jerusalem;

Ezekiel was alone in Babylon. Hear this, O Rome: God never

selected as a prophet either the high priest or any great personage;

but rather, he chose low and despised men, once even the shepherd

Amos. In every age the saints have been compelled to rebuke kings,

princes, recreant priests, and wise men at the peril of their lives.” “I

do not say that I also am a prophet; but I do say that they ought to

fear precisely because I am alone, while on the side of the oppressor

[143] are numbers, caste, wealth, and mocking letters. Yes, I am alone;

but I stand serene, because side by side with me is the Word of God;

and with all their boasted numbers, this, the greatest of powers, is

not with them.”

Yet it was not without a terrible struggle with himself that Luther

decided upon a final separation from the church. It was about this

time that he wrote: “I feel more and more every day how difficult

it is to lay aside the scruples which one has imbibed in childhood.

Oh, how much pain it cost me, though I had the Scriptures on my

side, to justify it to myself that I should dare to make a stand alone

against the pope, and hold him forth as antichrist! What have the

tribulations of my heart not been! How many times have I asked

myself with bitterness that question which was so frequent on the

lips of the papist: “Art thou alone wise? Can every one else be

mistaken? How will it be, if, after all, it is thyself who art wrong,

and who art involving in thy error so many souls, who will then be

eternally damned?” “Twas so I fought with myself and with Satan,

till Christ, by his infallible Word, fortified my heart against these

doubts.”

The pope had threatened Luther with excommunication if he did

not recant, and the threat was now fulfilled. A new bull appeared,

declaring the reformer’s final separation from the Romish Church,

denouncing him as accursed of Heaven, and including in the same

condemnation all who should receive his doctrines. The great contest

had been fully entered upon.

Opposition is the lot of all whom God employs to present truths

specially applicable to their time. There was a present truth in the

days of Luther,—a truth at that time of special importance; there is a

present truth for the church today. He who does all things according

to the counsel of his will, has been pleased to place men under

various circumstances, and to enjoin upon them duties peculiar to

the times in which they live, and the conditions under which they

[144] are placed. If they would prize the light given them, broader views

of truth would be opened before them. But truth is no more desired

by the majority today than it was by the papists who opposed Luther.

There is the same disposition to accept the theories and traditions

of men instead of the Word of God as in former ages. Those who

present the truth for this time should not expect to be received with

greater favor than were earlier reformers. The great controversy

between truth and error, between Christ and Satan, is to increase in

intensity to the close of this world’s history.

Said Jesus to his disciples: “If ye were of the world, the world

would love his own; but because ye are not of the world, but I

have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you.

Remember the word that I said unto you, The servant is not greater

than his Lord. If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute

you; if they have kept my saying, they will keep yours also.” [John

15:19, 20.] And on the other hand our Lord declared plainly: “Woe

unto you, when all men shall speak well of you! for so did their

fathers to the false prophets. [Luke 6:26.] The spirit of the world is

no more in harmony with the Spirit of Christ today than in earlier

times; and those who preach the Word of God in its purity will

be received with no greater favor now than then. The forms of

opposition to the truth may change, the enmity may be less open

because it is more subtle; but the same antagonism still exists, and

will be manifested to the end of time.