-
Notifications
You must be signed in to change notification settings - Fork 0
/
MartinLuther.txt
1619 lines (1280 loc) · 78.1 KB
/
MartinLuther.txt
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Martin Luther, by Carl E. Koppenhaver
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
Title: Martin Luther
Author: Carl E. Koppenhaver
Release Date: November 11, 2016 [EBook #53499]
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARTIN LUTHER ***
Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, MFR and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
MARTIN
LUTHER
CARL E. KOPPENHAVER
[Illustration: Publisher’s Logo]
Muhlenberg Press Philadelphia
Copyright, 1953, by
Muhlenberg Press
_Third Printing_
Printed in U.S.A. _UB736_
CONTENTS
THE MINER’S SON 5
Eisleben to Erfurt
Into the Cloister
Monk and Priest
THE PROFESSOR 11
Dr. Luther
The Awakening
COLLISION WITH ROME 15
The Question of Indulgences
The Ninety-five Theses
Rome Moves to Attack
THE BREACH WIDENS 21
Pushed into the Arena
The Shadow of Hus
For Such a Time as This
LUTHER EXPLAINS HIMSELF 25
The Christian Nobility
The Babylonian Captivity
Christian Liberty
The Papal Bull
THE MONK STANDS FIRM 33
The Diet of Worms
Answer Without Horns
Neither Right nor Safe
DRASTIC CHANGES 37
Wartburg to Wittenberg
From Freedom to License
Pigtails on the Pillow
The Cloister Becomes a Home
A CHURCH REBORN 45
The National Conscience
The Augsburg Confession
Back to Eisleben
CHRONOLOGY 49
[Illustration: (uncaptioned)]
THE MINER’S SON
Eisleben to Erfurt
The Turk was slashing his way up the valley of the Danube into the heart
of Europe. God sat far off, not as a loving father but as a vengeful
law-court judge inflicting all sorts of misery on mankind. In the forest
lurked witches and demons seeking to drag the unwary to destruction.
Into such a world threatened by the sword, ruled by fear, and plagued by
superstition, Martin Luther was born on November 10, 1483, in Eisleben,
Germany. Within such a world he became a man disdainful of bodily harm,
convinced of God’s love and mercy, endowed with abundant common sense—a
Christian worthy of study and emulation. Although his station of birth
was lowly, greatness sought him out, and the whole world has felt the
impact of his life.
The Luther child was baptized in the Church of St. Peter the morning
after his birth and was named Martin for the saint of the day. His
parents, Hans and Margarethe Luther, were simple, industrious folk. They
had moved recently from the farming community of Möhra, home of the
Luther family, to Eisleben where Hans hoped to make his fortune in the
copper mines.
When Martin was about six months old the family moved to near-by
Mansfeld. The first years there were hard and it was with difficulty
that Hans scraped together money to send his son to school. By the time
Martin was thirteen, however, his father was able to send him to a
school conducted by the Brothers of the Common Life at Magdeburg. As was
the custom, he earned his board by singing and begging from door to door
with one of the school choirs.
He stayed in Magdeburg for only a year and then was sent to the parish
school of St. George in Eisenach. While again earning his keep by
singing and begging, he became acquainted with Frau Ursula Cotta, a
woman of culture and refinement, who took the promising young scholar
into her home.
Hans Luther had been working diligently and by the time his son was
seventeen the family budget permitted his entrance to the University of
Erfurt. Martin worked diligently too, and at the end of four years had
passed not only his bachelor’s but his master’s examinations.
Into the Cloister
Obedient to his father’s wishes, Martin Luther on May 20, 1505, began
his post-graduate studies at Erfurt, preparatory to entering the field
of law. But after studying for only a few weeks he suddenly rejected the
whole idea and applied for admission at the town’s Augustinian
monastery.
Hans Luther was terribly angry and Martin’s university friends were
astounded. Why had he taken such a step? Many factors contributed, but
in the final analysis his decision to become a monk can be summed up in
the words “religious experience.”
His parents were God-fearing people whose piety undoubtedly had an early
influence on him. He shared fear of the horrors of hell, purgatory, and
the last judgment which was common to people at the close of the middle
ages. In the university library he had found a complete Bible and was
tremendously impressed with his own ignorance of its contents. He
attended church and daily chapel devotions regularly all through school.
His introspective nature made him starkly aware of his sins and
shortcomings. Life as a monk was held to be the best way to forgiveness
and heaven.
Several grim incidents increased his anxiety. While on a holiday from
the university he accidentally severed an artery in his leg with his
student sword. He almost bled to death and in distress prayed to the
Virgin Mary for help. The death of a number of students during a plague
moved him profoundly. While returning to Erfurt, following a visit to
Mansfeld, he was caught in a heavy thunderstorm and a bolt of lightning
struck so close that he was knocked to the ground. Overcome by panic he
invoked St. Anna for aid and vowed “Help me, and I will become a monk.”
Fifteen days later, on July 17, friends accompanied him to the gate of
the “Black Cloister,” monastery of the Order of Augustinian Hermits in
Erfurt.
That this decision came later in life than usually was the case, and
that his impressionable years had been spent not within the confines of
a monastery but in the unrestricted atmosphere of a great university,
later proved valuable to him and to the Protestant Church.
Monk and Priest
Luther was not received immediately into the monastery but had to remain
for several months in the monastic hostelry examining himself and being
examined. In September, 1505, all parties being satisfied, his head was
shaved and he was invested with the black Augustinian habit and cowl,
and formally received as a novice.
He scrubbed the floors, begged in the streets, and engaged in various
ascetic and spiritual exercises. When his probationary year was ended
Luther took the vows of obedience, poverty, and chastity and was
received into the order of the Augustinian monks. His sincere piety and
scholarship so impressed his superiors that he was urged to prepare for
the priesthood, and, on April 4, 1507, was ordained to that office.
The petty employments of the monastery did not consume all of Luther’s
energy and he devoted himself strenuously to studying the scholastic
theology available at that time. However, long hours with books did
little to ease his mind and give him the peace of conscience he sought
within the cloister walls. The books taught him to rely on his own
efforts to procure favor with God, and he was too honest to believe that
his penitence was deep enough and his fastings worthy enough to
compensate for his sins.
Although his heart was not at rest, Luther continued to perform his
priestly duties and undertake any new tasks assigned to him. In the fall
of 1508 he was appointed to the chair of moral philosophy which had been
entrusted to the Augustinians by the faculty at the newly established
University of Wittenberg. Desiring to teach theology rather than logic
and ethics, he availed himself of this opportunity to study for a
bachelor’s degree which would permit him to lecture on certain books of
the Bible. He had virtually completed his studies when he was called
back to Erfurt in October, 1509. There he lectured in the monastery for
about a year, and in November, 1510, was sent in company with another
monk on a mission to Rome.
In the Holy City he visited as many shrines and churches as possible.
His high opinion of the papal court was lowered by his observations of
its reckless luxury and scandal, but his confidence in the church
remained unshaken.
[Illustration: (uncaptioned)]
THE PROFESSOR
Dr. Luther
Luther returned to Erfurt from Rome, and in the summer of 1511 was sent
as one of three new professors to Wittenberg. Here he came under the
influence of John von Staupitz, vicar of the Augustinian order, who
showed warm sympathy and understanding toward the earnest young priest.
As yet Luther had been unable to convince himself of God’s love, mercy,
and forgiveness. His quest carried him along the path of good works, but
he never could feel that he had done enough to save himself. He tried
the path of confession but concluded there was more wrong with men than
could be cleansed by enumerating a list of particular offenses.
Luther’s problems of faith did not mount up through clearly defined
stages to a sudden soul-free climax. Rather he passed through a series
of crises. Staupitz did much to comfort him in some of these grave
periods. He encouraged the zealous monk to trust in the God who loved
and sent his Son to redeem man, rather than try to appease God through
his own works.
Staupitz’ theology was quite different from Luther’s. It admitted man’s
weakness and called him to completely submerge himself in God. There was
no striving, no assertion of self. Eventually the individual found peace
in a blissful atmosphere surrounded entirely by God. Luther’s efforts
were virtually the opposite. His every act was replete with
self-assertion directed toward winning merit. He tried the mystical way
of Staupitz but could never completely lose himself in the essence of a
God whom he conceived to be an angry judge.
Luther’s troubled spirit did not lower him in the vicar’s estimation
and, perhaps to get his mind off it, Staupitz advised him to study for a
doctor’s degree and assume the chair of Bible at the university. It was
good medicine, for thus the distressed monk came to closer grips with
the source book of his faith. So far, writings about the Bible, rather
than the book itself, had been his main diet. He studied for the degree
and preached in the monastery’s rickety chapel until October 18-19,
1512, when he became Martin Luther, doctor of sacred scripture,
professor of Bible at Wittenberg University.
The Awakening
Since May, 1512, Luther had been subprior and regent in the school
connected with the Black Cloister at Wittenberg. In May, 1515, he became
district vicar for Thuringia and Meissen, having eleven monasteries
under his care. Meanwhile he was discharging his duties as professor in
the university.
Frequently the solution to great problems comes quite undramatically as
one goes about the daily tasks. Luther’s awakening to a God who makes
man righteous in order to save him came in such a way. He knew the
teaching that the righteous shall be saved by faith. But who, he asked
himself, is righteous?
As he studied and taught, and looked after his wards in the monasteries,
he gradually discovered he had been misled by the medieval concept that
grace could be earned. This, he found, was contrary to the New
Testament. Grace can’t be earned. God gives it. Man, therefore, does not
make himself righteous. It is God who makes man righteous. He makes man
righteous as a free gift (grace) so that he can be saved. Out of this
came the doctrine of “justification by faith.”
At this point Luther still felt that he was in total agreement with the
teachings of the Roman Church. In a humble way he believed that he had
discovered for himself what always had been—that he had just been slow
in catching on. Deeper study, however, made it clear to him that there
was a great difference between his own and the theology of the middle
ages. He became convinced that man can contribute nothing toward his
salvation, but that God, recognizing man’s unrighteousness, had redeemed
him and restored him through the sacrifice of his Son, Jesus Christ.
This indeed was not the work of an implacable judge, but of a loving
Father.
Luther now found himself rejecting most of the medieval writers and
teachers. He went back to the Bible, to Christ, and the apostles.
Convinced of the truth, he no longer was restrained by contradictory
views. His beliefs were contrary to many of the teachings of the church,
and while he didn’t plan it that way they brought him into open revolt.
The matter of indulgences opened the battle.
[Illustration: (uncaptioned)]
COLLISION WITH ROME
The Question of Indulgences
The Roman Church taught that forgiveness of sins could be secured only
through the sacrament of penance. This required contrition of heart,
confession to a priest, and satisfaction by good works. Release from the
penalty of eternal punishment was guaranteed by the absolution
pronounced by the priest. If not enough works of penance were done
before death, however, the remainder had to be atoned for in the
torments of purgatory for an indefinite period.
Gradually a custom developed which permitted one to purchase indulgences
to offset purgatorial punishment. It was at this point that Luther’s
theology conflicted with the church’s practice. Grace was God’s gift,
but indulgences implied that man can earn grace.
In 1515 the sale of indulgences was being pressed in the archbishopric
of Mainz which had been purchased recently by Albert of Brandenburg.
Because of the vast revenues the office controlled, it was a profitable
investment to become a bishop in those days. Although not old enough to
be a bishop, Albert already had procured two other sees before
negotiating for the purchase of Mainz. Pope Leo X was willing to
overlook these irregularities in exchange for ten thousand ducats which
he needed to complete the Church of St. Peter in Rome.
Albert borrowed the money from the Fuggers banking concern in Augsburg.
Then the pope granted him the privilege of selling indulgences so that
he could settle his account at the bank and at the same time raise
additional sums for St. Peter’s.
John Tetzel, a Dominican prior who had displayed shrewd aptitude in
selling indulgences, conducted the campaign. He didn’t enter Luther’s
parish because Frederick the Wise, elector of Saxony, had an indulgence
traffic of his own in the form of a large collection of relics gathered
for veneration in the Castle Church, Wittenberg. However, some of
Luther’s people crossed the border and bought indulgences from Tetzel.
Luther saw the fundamental danger of the traffic when these folk
countered his preaching on repentance of heart and life by showing him
indulgences remitting their sins. On October 31 Luther tacked a placard
on the door of the Castle Church. The sound of his hammer reached to
Rome.
The Ninety-five Theses
The theses which Luther posted on the church door were not a declaration
of revolt. They were, after the custom of the day, an invitation to
theologians of Wittenberg and vicinity to debate on the indulgence
situation. So that all participants could be prepared, he posted the
ninety-five propositions he intended to defend in the debate.
The points for argument did not call for abandonment of indulgences but
merely advocated the elimination of evils in the system. Luther
maintained, in his theses, that repentance should be a lifelong
experience and should manifest itself in a continuing effort to overcome
sinful desires. Indulgences, he said, are simply remissions of penalties
which the church has imposed. They have no effect on the souls of the
departed and they don’t remit sin; only God can do that.
Luther believed he was being a loyal defender of the Roman Church by
attempting to correct these abuses, and correspondence revealed that he
thought the pope was unaware of what was going on. To his surprise the
theses released a great flood of favorable public opinion and were
applauded as a courageous and unrelenting attack. Within two weeks they
were distributed in German as well as Latin throughout Germany.
There had been a growing dislike of the indulgence system and of the
pope’s interference in what, to the Germans, were strictly their own
national affairs. The theses now became a rallying point not only for
those who opposed Rome’s continuous exploitation of German finances but
also for those who resented the dominating attitude of a foreign power.
Even though they attacked one of his own pet institutions, the Elector
Frederick stood by his daring young monk.
As the Augustinians rallied around Luther, the Dominicans upheld the
cause of Brother Tetzel. He was granted a doctor’s degree largely to
enable him to publish some theses of his own.
When the Tetzel writings came off press and were distributed, students
at Wittenberg collected a large quantity and held a public bonfire.
Luther, still a loyal son of the monastic system, was greatly displeased
by their sophomoric act.
Rome Moves to Attack
Luther sent a copy of his theses to Albert of Brandenburg who forwarded
them to Rome where Pope Leo X reportedly brushed the incident off as a
row between rival monastic orders. Later the Dominicans charged Luther
with heresy and formal proceedings were begun. On August 7, 1518, Luther
received notice to appear in Rome for trial within sixty days.
By no means a coward, Luther was nonetheless unwilling to be the victim
of a mock-trial in the territory of the enemy. He asked Elector
Frederick to have the trial transferred to German soil where he might at
least have the benefit of impartial judges.
On second thought the pope decided not to wait sixty days and ordered
the elector to arrest Luther at once and turn him over to Cardinal
Cajetan for delivery in Rome. Although Frederick was not sympathetic to
heresy he was determined that the man who had brought so much attention
to his university at Wittenberg should have fair play. He prevailed upon
the pope to have Cardinal Cajetan give Luther a personal hearing in
Augsburg where he would be attending a diet or parliament.
In a benign manner the cardinal offered to help Luther out of all his
difficulty if he would simply submit to the pope’s authority and retract
his errors. Luther of course refused and tried to defend his positions.
A fruitless and oft-times heated controversy ensued and at the end of
three days Cajetan told Luther to leave his presence and not return
until he was ready to recant.
The cardinal was quite upset by the Augsburg incident and wrote Elector
Frederick a letter calling upon him to turn the heretical monk over to
the Roman authorities. Frederick’s reply indicated his increasing
resistance to papal dictatorship. He asked for a free trial and a
statement of Luther’s errors in writing.
The pope’s chamberlain, Carl von Miltitz, was dispatched to Germany in
an attempt to rectify Cajetan’s blundering. He correctly estimated that
much of the populace was on Luther’s side and the time for forcibly
suppressing him was past. Resorting to diplomacy he persuaded Luther to
have his case submitted to a German bishop and to refrain from further
attack in the meantime. Luther agreed, but only on the condition that
his opponents would remain silent too.
[Illustration: (uncaptioned)]
THE BREACH WIDENS
Pushed into the Arena
Even while Luther was meeting with Miltitz circumstances were shaping up
which drove him to break silence. He had stated his willingness to
recant if someone proved his error. An ambitious professor at the
University of Ingolstadt, John Eck, with an enviable reputation as a
disputant, saw in this his opportunity to win renown and also favor with
Rome.
Andrew Carlstadt of the Wittenberg faculty had espoused the cause of
Luther publicly and had been engaged in an extended debate with Eck
through the medium of pamphlets. Now a public debate between the two was
arranged for Leipzig. In preparation Eck drew up a series of twelve
theses, directed not so much at his differences with Carlstadt as with
the theology of Luther. The champion of Roman orthodoxy clearly was
baiting Luther into the arena.
After months of wrangling about procedures and proper invitations, and
with much pomp and pageantry, the debate got under way on June 27, 1519.
Several hundred Wittenberg students were there—a sixteenth-century sort
of college cheering section. During the ensuing eighteen days of debate
they frequently became embroiled with the Leipzig University students
who sided with Eck. Carlstadt and Eck matched wits for four days over
the relation between grace and free will. The erudition and cleverness
of Eck gave him a decided advantage over the Wittenberg scholar, but
spectator interest was being reserved for July 4 when Luther would take
the field.
For another four days Eck and Luther discussed the divine right of the
pope with the Ingolstadter insisting that the divine plan of government
was a monarchy with the pope at its head. Luther agreed that the church
was a monarchy but that Christ was its head. The passage in St. Matthew
concerning the rock upon which Christ would build his church was quoted
by Eck with the interpretation that Peter was the “rock” and since he
also was the first pope it was clear that papal supremacy had been
established by Christ.
Luther declared the passage should be considered along with Peter’s
previous statement, “Thou art the Christ....” This confession, he said,
is the “rock” on which Christ built his church.
The Shadow of Hus
The crisis at Leipzig was reached when Eck backed into a dialectical
corner and had to resort to foul tactics. How discredit Luther? Perhaps
if he made him synonymous with heresy....
Craftily Eck pointed out the similarity between Luther’s arguments and
those of the Bohemian reformer, John Hus, whom the Council of Constance
had condemned to the stake a century before. Luther denounced the
insinuation and declared the Bohemian heresy irrelevant to the debate.
It was inevitable in opposing the Roman Church’s contention to primacy
that Luther would use arguments similar to those of previous reformers.
The condemnation of Hus as a heretic did not necessarily make all of his
views heretical. In fact, Luther insisted, some of Hus’s articles were
genuinely Christian and evangelical.
The spectators and visiting theologians were stunned, and perhaps Luther
shocked even himself. Clearly his remark would be interpreted to mean
that the general councils—the highest earthly authority—were not beyond
fault. This was heresy.
Luther had long been aware of the need for reform in the church. As his
ideas developed it became apparent that the pope was not above human
weakness. The church militant needed an earthly head, and for the sake
of good order it was necessary that he be obeyed. But that didn’t make
him infallible. After all, he was human.
Now this same reasoning had pushed from Luther’s lips the admission that
councils could err also. Unwittingly Eck had contributed what probably
was the greatest outcome of the debate—Luther’s growing conviction that
even general councils could be unreliable. Henceforth he would take his
stand on the unassailable Word of God as revealed in the Scriptures.
Results of the debate were weighed by judges at the University of Paris
who condemned Luther and his views as heretical. When Philip
Melanchthon, a Wittenberg associate and close friend of Luther,
questioned the opinion on the basis of Scripture, the Parisians looked
down their noses at the upstart, informing him they were chief among the
few to whom interpretation of Scripture could be entrusted.
For Such a Time as This
Luther was frankly disappointed with the outcome of the debate. He had
hoped his opinions would be accepted and reformation of the church
effected.
The controversy did much, however, to crystallize his own views: The
pope did not have absolute authority; a council can err in its
decisions; the Bible is above popes and councils in authority; the
Church of Christ is not limited to the Roman fellowship alone but is the
community of believers throughout the world.
Gradually Luther realized these views differed so fundamentally from
those of Rome that there was small chance of healing the breach. The
notion that he might become a martyr recurred frequently but it didn’t
cause him to relinquish his zeal. In fact he received inspiration from
it and kept three presses rolling at full speed to turn out tracts,
sermons, and commentaries.
In addition to the Leipzig debate, the summer of 1519 brought forth
another event which was significant in Luther’s life. Maximilian, the
Holy Roman Emperor, died in January and the election of a successor was
of utmost concern to the rulers and populace of Europe. Consequently,
there was rejoicing in Germany on June 28 when the electors named
Charles of Spain in preference to Francis of France. Charles was a
Hapsburg and the Germans confidently expected he would unite them into a
strong, independent nation. However, the new emperor favored his Spanish
mother more than his German father and treated his fatherland like an
outlying province of Spain.
Wide distribution of the Ninety-five Theses and other writings, as well
as prominence resulting from the Leipzig encounter, had fixed the eyes
of many Germans upon Luther. When Charles failed to step into the role
of national figure they switched their enthusiasm to Luther. Few
understood his ideas on Christianity but they believed he could lead
them to political, intellectual, and economic freedom. Scholars,
princes, knights, and commoners gathered about the Wittenberg professor
who had demonstrated his fearlessness in the face of tyranny. Gradually
Luther sensed his mission as leader in a mighty movement. History called
it the Reformation.
LUTHER EXPLAINS HIMSELF
The Christian Nobility
Luther’s attempts to interest the pope in reform had proved futile. He
was likewise unsuccessful in having a general council convened to
consider his propositions. Now, in the first of three great treatises,
he called upon the secular rulers to concern themselves with the state
of the church.
Appearing in August, 1520, the “Open Letter to the Christian Nobility of
the German Nation” flatly attacked corruption among the clergy and
prodded the laity into doing something about it. Since all Christians
are priests before God, Luther held it was incumbent upon them and
particularly upon Christian rulers to feel responsible for the conduct
of the church within their domains. As Christians they should abhor vice
and wickedness regardless of whether it flourished on the main street or
in the monastery.
No one, said the open letter, has been able to reform the Romanists
because they have erected three walls of defense, “_First_, when pressed
by the temporal power, they have made decrees and said that the temporal
power has no jurisdiction over them. _Second_, when the attempt is made
to reprove them out of the Scriptures, they raise the objection that the
interpretation of the Scriptures belongs to no one except the pope.
_Third_, if threatened with a council, they answer with the fable that
no one can call a council but the pope.”
[Illustration: (uncaptioned)]
Luther demolished the first wall by showing that everyone is equal
before God. Those holding the title of priest or bishop are not superior
to other Christians nor do they differ except in vocation, by which also
a cobbler differs from a blacksmith. The title of “priest” is conferred
by laymen who themselves are priests in the sight of God. Thus the
holder of a church title is not beyond the reach of temporal government.
He breached the second wall by pointing out that every enlightened
Christian—layman or priest—has the right to seek God’s message for him
in the Scriptures. The third wall tumbled through Luther’s insistence
that every man, as a priest, shares responsibility for right management
in the church.
The Babylonian Captivity
Before his letter to the nobility was off press, Luther was writing his
second treatise, “The Babylonian Captivity of the Church.” The first had
been primarily for lay people while the second was for theologians. It
aimed directly at freeing the Christian fellowship in Europe from the
“captivity” of the Roman sacramental system.
The Roman Church taught that it alone could dispense the saving grace
associated with the sacraments, and that the sacramental acts could be
performed only by ordained priests. Anyone who denied that the church
controlled the flow of grace from God was striking Catholicism in its
most vital spot. Without its sacramental system Rome could no longer
bind its subjects. This was the front at which Luther aimed his heaviest
artillery.
He reiterated his views on the priesthood of believers. Priests should
be servants of the people who comprise the church, rather than servants
of a papal hierarchy. They cannot interfere with grace. It is God’s free
gift to the individual believer.
In the course of his treatise Luther also asserted that there are only
two sacraments—baptism and the Lord’s Supper—rather than seven as taught
in Roman Catholicism. A sacrament, he held, had to be instituted by
Christ, contain a divine promise of the forgiveness of sins, and make
use of an earthly element (water, bread, wine). Confirmation,
ordination, marriage, penance, and extreme unction were rejected as
sacraments because they lacked some of the prescribed characteristics.
The mass had been seen as a repetition of Christ’s incarnation and
crucifixion at the hands of a priest before the altar. By this sacrifice
man tried to earn grace. Now it became the Lord’s Supper—a communion of
the believing Christian with his Saviour. Both the bread and the wine
should be received by the communicant, Luther insisted. While Christ is
really present in the elements, the bread does not become flesh nor the
wine blood through a magical act called transubstantiation. Moreover,
Christ is not sacrificed anew whenever the mass is celebrated. His
sacrifice on the cross was for all time. Through that sacrifice a man’s
sins are remitted if he has faith.
Christian Liberty
Miltitz, the papal nuncio who previously had failed to reconcile Luther
and the pope, tried again in October, 1520. He had Luther agree to write
a letter to Leo X assuring him that there was nothing personal in his
attacks on the papacy.
In the letter, Luther cautioned Leo against listening to those of his
advisers who would make him a demigod, who put him above councils, who
make him the final authority in interpreting Scripture, “for through
them Satan already has made much headway.” He also assured Leo that he
was an obedient servant of the church and that he was not inveighing
against him personally.
Accompanying the letter was a copy of Luther’s latest pamphlet, “A
Treatise on Christian Liberty.” It expresses calm Christian reflection
quite different from the theological conflicts which were carried
forward in his other treatises. At the outset it poses two propositions
which seem to be a paradox: “A Christian man is a perfectly free lord of
all, subject to none,” and “A Christian man is a perfectly dutiful
servant of all, subject to all.”
The first proposition acknowledges man as a sinner, but one who has been
liberated and restored to a right relationship with God through
justifying grace. In justifying man, God has freed him from the
consequence of his sins because of Christ’s atonement.
This freedom affects a man’s whole life. Not only is he free from the
consequences of sin, but he is no longer shackled by his own hates,
passions, and wilful desires. Because this freedom is based on his own
personal relationship with God, no one can interfere. He is “subject to
none.”
The second proposition indicates that the free man’s life takes a
different direction. Originally he was concerned with himself, but now
the reborn person, in gratitude for his own freedom, serves his
neighbor. His motive is not merely humanitarian, but stems out of a
sincere desire to help others become free too. Love permits him to do no
less than become the servant of all.
The treatise and letter would have scant effect on Pope Leo. Five months
previously he had signed a bull excommunicating Luther.
The Papal Bull
A chronological listing of events can be misleading—for instance those
concerning the papal bull. It was signed by Leo on June 15, 1520. It
reached Luther officially on October 10. He immediately wrote a fiery
epistle denouncing it and Eck, whose style and invective he recognized.
Aware that the bull was being circulated and that his literature was
being burned, he nevertheless sat down in November and wrote a friendly
letter to the pope accompanying it with his treatise on Christian
liberty.
On the surface this would indicate insincerity, but events shaped up to
prove he was being consistent. Although he knew he had personal enemies,
he never lost sight of the fact that he was fighting a system rather
than individuals. The pope, for him, was merely a figurehead, in this
instance the symbol of an intolerable autocracy in an area where
individual freedom before God was essential.
The papal bull credited Luther with forty-one errors, called for the
burning of his books, charged heresy, gave him sixty days to submit, and
warned everyone against sheltering him in his excommunication.
Distribution of the bull was in the hands of Eck and papal legate Jerome
Aleander. They succeeded in posting copies of the bull and burning books
in several cities, but largely their efforts were unsuccessful due to
strenuous opposition by the German people.
On December 10, probably in reprisal for a book-burning at Cologne,
Melanchthon posted a notice on the Wittenberg University bulletin board
inviting students and faculty to a bonfire outside the Elster gate of
the city. Books on scholastic theology, and especially those works of
canon law on which the pope and the Roman hierarchy based their claims
to power, were tossed into the flames. Then Luther stepped forward
quietly and with a prayer on his lips added the booklet containing the
papal bull to the fire. He and the professors withdrew but the students
made a holiday of the affair, parading and singing throughout the town
and burning books of Luther’s opponents.
Significantly, the bonfire marked the end of the sixty-day period of
grace. From now on no one was to communicate with Luther or provide him
with the necessities of life. In the eyes of Rome he was an outlaw.
[Illustration: (uncaptioned)]
THE MONK STANDS FIRM
The Diet of Worms
Overtones of intrigue and statecraft are dominant in the prelude to the
imperial assembly at Worms. The church at Rome had given its decision.
Would the secular authorities now take action and turn him over to the
papal authorities?
Charles, at his coronation as emperor, had subscribed to the imperial
constitution which said no German should be taken outside his country
for trial, and also that no one should be outlawed without a hearing.
Frederick the Wise, Luther’s elector, took no action against him, using
these same reasons as an excuse. Aleander, the papal representative,
wanted the case settled arbitrarily by the emperor since he was well
aware of the support Luther would receive at a public hearing. The man
had been condemned by the church, he argued, and as good churchmen the
rulers should simply apprehend the Wittenberg monk without a further
examination of his views.
For the first three months of 1521 the diet devoted itself chiefly to
transacting state business. During this period Emperor Charles changed
his mind several times about inviting the Wittenberg monk for a hearing.
Finally, on March 6, against his will, he offered Luther a safe-conduct
to Worms.
In a two-wheeled cart Luther and a few companions set out from
Wittenberg on April 2. Cities along the way welcomed him and invited him
to preach, but no reception equaled the one on his arrival at Worms.
When the party was sighted from the cathedral tower at 10 A. M., on
April 16, a group of horsemen dashed out to act as an escort through the
city gate. Two thousand spectators thronged the streets so that Luther
was barely able to reach his lodging in the house of the Knights of St.
John.
He was summoned to appear at four o’clock the following afternoon, and
because of the crowds in the streets was conducted through gardens and
alleys to the episcopal palace where the diet was meeting. When the door
of the assembly hall was opened, Luther was ushered through a company of
princes, nobles, and ecclesiastics to the foot of a canopied chair. On
it sat Charles, the twenty-one-year-old emperor. Near by was a table
loaded with books.
Answer Without Horns
After the opening courtesies had been dispatched the presiding officer,
an official of the archbishop of Trier, pointed to the books, asked
Luther if he was the author, and if he was ready to retract what he had
written.
Luther had been instructed to speak only in answer to direct questions
and was not to seek a discussion. However, this double question could
not be answered yes or no. He paused and his legal adviser asked that
the titles be read. Luther then acknowledged that the books were his.
Again the question, “Will you retract...?”
The monk believed his writing was an accurate interpretation of God’s
Word. In his mind was Christ’s admonition to the disciples “whosoever
shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father....”
Since salvation was involved he asked time to think over the answer. The
diet agreed that he should return at four the next afternoon.
After a night of prayer Luther again appeared before the impressive
assembly. This time a larger hall had been chosen because of the
tremendous crowd. Again the formalities, and again the question, but
this time phrased a bit differently. “Do you defend all of your books or
are you willing to recall some things?” This was the opening Luther had
been seeking and he quickly shaped his strategy to take advantage of it.
They were forcing him to make a speech since a categorical answer was
impossible.
The books were in three classes, Luther explained. The first was purely
devotional and had been commended even by his enemies. The second was
against the papacy. If he recanted these he would open the door to
further tyranny and impiety. The third class inveighed against
individuals, and in these he admitted he had used caustic and
intemperate language. Still the facts had to stand unless refuted by the
Scriptures, in which case he would be first to cast his books into the
fires.
Obviously the diet could not at this moment disprove his works by the
Bible. There was a consultation. The interrogator turned to Luther.
“Give us a direct answer—one without horns. Will you or will you not
recant your errors?”
Neither Right nor Safe
The Spanish guards were mentally stacking faggots around the lonely
little figure in the middle of the room. Princes, nobles, and the Holy
Roman Emperor leaned forward to catch his words.
“Since Your Majesty and Your Lordships want a direct reply, I will
answer without horns or teeth,” he began quietly.
The spectators looked at each other significantly, then back to the
earnest friar. Confidence was returning and his voice carried plainly to
all corners of the room.
“Unless convinced by the testimony of Scripture or right reason—for I
trust neither the pope nor councils inasmuch as they have often erred
and contradicted one another—I am bound in conscience, held captive by
the Word of God in the Scriptures I have quoted. I neither can nor will
recant anything, for it is neither right nor safe to act against
conscience. God help me! Amen.”
There was silence for an instant. Then pandemonium broke loose. The
interrogator tried to restore order but the emperor walked out and the
meeting adjourned. Luther was escorted back to his rooms by the admiring
populace. Nobles who had been on the fringe now openly praised the
courageous preacher and vowed their support. During the night warning
notices were surreptitiously posted on the doors of his enemies.
Charles summoned the electors and princes the following day to decide
what should be done. His own impulse to condemn Luther right away was
restrained because he needed the good will of the Germans in other
measures coming before the diet. A plan was evolved whereby a select
group of theologians would call on Luther and try to effect a
reconciliation through persuasion. The discussion always bogged down
when Luther insisted he must be persuaded on the basis of Scripture.
Having received a twenty-one-day safe-conduct Luther set out for
Wittenberg on April 26. The diet closed officially on May 25, and the
next day, following a rump session of prejudiced nobles, the emperor
signed the Edict of Worms. According to it, Luther was the devil himself
in a monk’s habit. He was to be seized on sight and turned over to the
emperor—an outlaw of the church and the state.
DRASTIC CHANGES
Wartburg to Wittenberg
Fortunately for Luther there was more than noisy adulation among the
people. A few sober minds knew how relentless the papal wolves would be
in tracking him down after the safe-conduct expired, and so a
“kidnapping” and removal to a safe place was planned.
Luther made a detour along the road to Wittenberg in order to visit
relatives at Möhra. For months the outside world knew only that he had
been captured near there in the Thuringian forest by a band of knights.
Many lamented him as dead, but gradually the flow of thorny letters to
his adversaries and the new treatises rolling from the press allayed
their fears.
By a circuitous route Luther had been conveyed to the Wartburg, an
ancient fortress-castle near Eisenach. He arrived on May 4 and, with the
exception of short trips into the forest and to near-by villages, did
not leave for seven months. To outward appearances he was Junker George,
a carefree, bearded knight with sword swinging impressively at his side.
The secret was well kept and at the outset even the elector, who
authorized the masquerade, did not know Luther’s whereabouts.
Luther chafed at his forced inactivity, and, ever the monk, fell to
contemplation and examination of himself. Could past generations and
earlier scholars have been so completely out of step with the gospel?
Could a mere friar be right against them all? Might he not be in error
and drag many others to eternal damnation?
[Illustration: (uncaptioned)]
Hard work helped take his mind off his problems. During his stay in the
Wartburg, in addition to correspondence and pamphlets, he authored a
work on confession, expositions on several Psalms, a commentary on the
Magnificat, had a volume of sermons on the Epistles and Gospels well
underway, and had translated the entire New Testament into German.
Prayer and study restored his conviction. To doubt, or even to remain
silent was like going against conscience—neither right nor safe. With
conviction came a sense of divine commission. When events called him
back into the world again he went courageously and with determination.
He was a revolutionary, but a conservative one. That quality is what
took him back to Wittenberg.
From Freedom to License
So often a new movement suffers from overenthusiasm. The Reformation was
no exception in this respect. Zealots took the usual shortcut from
bondage to freedom by way of turmoil instead of restrained orderly
procedure.
In parts of Germany the old ways were thrown off hastily. Organs,
paintings, and statues were thrown from the churches, vestments were
discarded, bread and wine were both administered to the laity, priests
married, nuns took husbands, monastic vows were renounced, various forms
of the mass were discontinued, priests and worshipers who persisted in
the traditional forms were attacked.
Rumors of violent acts reached the Wartburg. Luther, still in the guise
of Junker George, made a hurried trip to Wittenberg early in December,
1521. Matters there had not yet reached the unrestrained stage which
they later assumed. Nevertheless he cautioned the people in a “warning
against riot and rebellion,” written on his return to the Wartburg.
In it he reasoned that reform is not so much a matter of externals as of
faith. Breaking up the furniture in a church does not change the heart
of a man. Vandalism is by no means a sign of repentance and trust in
God—in fact it approaches the old form of seeking favor through works.
Giving wine as well as bread in the Lord’s Supper is not as important as
the spiritual attitude of the communicant.
Finally the tumult in Wittenberg reached the point where he had to step
in, so—in the face of the imperial ban—he returned on March 6, 1522.
Insisting that no drastic change should be made until, through
re-education, those affected requested it as a matter of faith, he
restored order in the university city in a remarkably short time.
The peasants meanwhile took the shortcut to freedom, too, in a series of
bloody uprisings. Chafing under their bondage to the nobles, they
adapted Luther’s “free lord of all” statement to their own demands for
social reform. Luther preached the Christian duty of submission to
lawful authority, but the peasants ravaged and plundered until finally
defeated in 1525. It was a dark hour in the Reformation.
Pigtails on the Pillow
Wittenberg, June 14—Katherine von Bora, 26, late of the Cistercian
nunnery at Nimbschen, and Martin Luther, 42, professor of Bible at the
local university, were married last night at a simple ceremony in the
Black Cloister. Dr. John Bugenhagen officiated. In attendance were
Artist Lucas Cranach and Mrs. Cranach; Dr. Justus Jonas, prior of Castle
Church; and John Apel, professor of law at the university....
If there had been newspapers in 1525, Luther’s wedding might have been
announced to the public in this way. However, newspapers weren’t to
appear until much later, and the lack of publicity gave gossips and
slanderers choice opportunity to vilify the former monk and nun. The
malicious stories were partly offset by a public ceremony, complete with
a special service in the town church, a wedding dinner in the cloister,
and a dance at the town hall on June 27.
The wedding was a direct result of Luther’s reform teachings. He
disliked the monastic system because men and women sought merit before
God through restraints and vows rather than depending upon grace.