REFORMATION.

His foundation is in the holy mountains. The Lord loveth the

gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob. Glorious

things are spoken of thee, O city of God. Selah.--_Ps. 87, 1-3._

The history of the Christian Church may be expressed in three

words--Formation, Deformation, and Reformation. The first period

begins with the story of the shepherds on Bethlehem's plains on

Christmas night 1912 years ago, and ended with the establishment of

the Church in cultured Europe and Asia and Africa.

As we pass the main occurrences of that first epoch of its

formation, before our mind's eye, we see how the infant cause

of Christ spreads from Jerusalem round about to the surrounding

countries, conquering and to conquer. See how in her course

of advancement she meets with opposition the fiercest and

bloodiest; see how the blood of her children wets the sands of the

amphitheater, and how their bones are crushed by the lions and wild

animals of the arena, whilst the ashes of thousands of others strew

the funeral pile upon which they died praying, "Lord Jesus, receive

my spirit."

Those were the days of persecution, when the church was despised and

rejected of men. And yet, in the indestructibility of her life she

overcame that opposition. Yea, as one said, "the very blood of the

martyrs was the seed grain of her progress." Before the preaching

of Christ fadeth the glories of heathenism, and where once stood in

splendid magnificence the pagan temples of heathenish paganism was

placed in its simple and sublime beauty the cross. The Galilean, the

Carpenter's Son, God's Son, had conquered. The Church, in a word,

had been established.

And then the view changes. A new period begins. Across the face of

this period there is written in all directions one word. That word

is _Rome_. It is Rome at the altar swinging the censer, Rome on the

battlefield wielding the sword; it is Rome in the councils of kings,

and Rome in the judge's seat; it is Rome in the professor's chair,

and Rome in the children's nursery; it is Rome in the market stall

telling what to sell, and Rome in the kitchen telling people what to

eat and drink. It is Rome first, last, and all the time.

At Rome, styled the Holy City, the Mistress of the World, sat a

triple-crowned dictator. Princes kissed his feet, and held the

stirrups for him as he mounted his bediamoned horse. An emperor

stands barefoot in the snow of his courtyard suing for forgiveness

because he had dared to govern without his sanction, whilst his

clergy, monks without number, swarmed in every place, all sworn to

stand by him on peril of salvation, and themselves guarded from all

reach of law for any crime they may commit. Gigantic, powerful,

proud, wicked and wanton, haughty Rome, drunk with shocking

abomination! That is the second period, the era of deformation.

Once more the view changes: Antichrist--for none else is the

pope--is assailed by a poor, unknown monk in far-away Saxony. "Who

minds a monk? 'Tis nothing." But, lo, the monk towers like a giant,

and German princes are by his side, while a nation hangs on his

lips. Tidings of great joy, like once from Bethlehem's plains, are

again spreading from the little town of Wittenberg on the banks of

the Elbe. Ninety-five theses nailed up by that monk against the

church-door on the eve of October 31, 1517, are borne on the wings

of the wind. How they talk about them in London, now in Copenhagen,

now in the streets of Jerusalem. Men, women, youths, fearlessly

give the lie to the priest whom they had dreaded too much before.

Rome startled; she would use her old force. She would suppress the

new teaching, which was nothing but the old truth repeated again.

Of no avail! "She's judged. The deed is done." The Lord has smitten

Antichrist with the breath of His mouth. The world is enjoying once

more the pure and abundant Gospel preaching. A new life is upon

the nations. The Church has entered upon another epoch. We call

it the period of the Reformation. It is the topic of our concern

and gathering to-day. And in order that we may duly grasp its

meaning and appreciate its blessing, let us observe, on the basis

of our text, _The glory of the Lutheran Reformation and Church_.

That glory is threefold: _I. a glory of foundation_; _II. a glory

of possession_; _III. a glory of prospect_. And may God help us

understand and appreciate!

First, a glory of _foundation_. The psalmist, referring to the

Old Testament Church, speaks of its foundation. So, too, the New

Testament Church has its foundation. "Other foundation can no

man lay," writes the Apostle, "than that is laid, which is Jesus

Christ," the Son of God, God Himself. The work of redemption

which He came into this world to perform is the foundation of our

religion, our Church.

What our children learn from their Catechism: "I believe that Jesus

Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from eternity, and also

true man, born of the Virgin Mary, is my Lord, who has redeemed me,

a lost and condemned creature, purchased and won me from all sins,

from death and from the power of the devil,"--that is the heart and

marrow of our faith, its foundation. This was the point Luther made

in those ninety-five theses and in all the teachings, preaching, and

writing that he did ever afterwards.

But does not the Church of Rome believe that too? My dear hearer,

accompany me in spirit to one of their places of worship. It matters

not in what direction we go, they are plentiful everywhere. We

enter. Our Protestant eye looks for the Savior. Thank God He is

still there. But what means that statue at His side--whose is it?

Francis De Sales, St. Anthony of Padua, St. Vincent, St. Anna, St.

Elizabeth. Have they forgotten the First Commandment which says:

"Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness to

bow thyself down to them"? We look upon the assembled worshipers.

What is it that they are holding in their hands, busily twisting the

beads while their lips move in devotion? "Hail, Mary," they pray,

"mother of God, queen of heaven." Why not Christ?--for there is only

one Mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus.

As we stand there in observation amid the striking of little gongs,

there enters, gorgeously arrayed, a priest. "Why a priest?" We, in

the New Testament, according to the Bible, know of only one Priest,

and that is He of whom the Apostle says: "Such an High Priest became

us who is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners." What

does the priest do? He is offering sacrifice, in an unbloody manner,

for the sins of the people. They call it "mass." But does not the

Bible teach that "by one sacrifice," _viz._, by His sacrifice upon

Golgotha, "Christ hath forever perfected them that are sanctified"?

Why, then, this mass? Do they think they can, as they claim, improve

upon, perfect, that propitiatory sacrifice?

Or, while we are en route, let us transfer ourselves in spirit a

little further; let us go for a few moments to Rome. There sits a

man whom they style "Holy Father." God's Word says: "Ye shall call

no man in religion your father nor master upon earth. One is your

Father," even He who is in heaven. "One is your Master--" Christ.

This man at Rome claims that he is the vicar of Christ upon earth,

with power to rule both the Church and the world. But, says Christ,

"My kingdom is not of this world," and I, even I, am its only Head.

And not only so, but in how many innumerable ways does this man at

Rome contradict Christ! Thus: Christ, through His Spirit, says: A

bishop, a minister, ought to be the "husband of one wife." "The

husband of no wife," contradicts the pope. "It is a great wrong for

a priest to marry." "Abstaining from meats," forbidding people to

eat what they choose and at any time they choose, is "a doctrine

of the devil," says Christ through His Spirit. "It is a sin to

eat meat on Friday and throughout Lent," says the pope. "You must

diligently pray and liberally pay, and then shall the souls of your

beloved ones come out of purgatory." There is no such place, is the

teaching of Christ, for instance, when He spoke to the thief on the

cross: "To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise." "I have redeemed

you with my holy, precious blood and with my innocent suffering and

death." Let your only hope and constant prayer be:

Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness

My beauty are, my glorious dress.

'Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed,

With joy shall I lift up my head.

"Not so," says the pope. "Heaven and salvation do not depend only

upon what Christ has done, but much depends upon what _you_ have

done." "If any one saith," so reads the decree of Rome, "that we

are justified, saved, by faith alone, let him be anathema--cursed."

Your good works must help along. It is only as you do _this_ and

give _that_, buy indulgences, pay for some holy candles, appropriate

of your earnings an adequate amount to the Church, remember it in

your last will and testament, and set apart a certain sum for the

reading of mass,--it is only thus that you can expect to die in

peace and your soul find its way to heaven. Now, beloved, we leave

it to the smallest child--is this making Christ the foundation?

And it was against this that Luther protested in the ninety-five

theses which he nailed up 395 years ago; and it is against this that

we would raise our voices and pen. Jesus Christ and His work of

redemption--He shall be our foundation. "Ave Marias?" No! Saints and

popes? No!

All hail the power of Jesus' name,

Let angels prostrate fall.

Bring forth the royal diadem

And crown Him Lord of all.

Again, our Church not only glories in its foundation, but likewise

in its _possessions_. And what does it possess? Look upon the

imposing churches and cathedrals of Rome, those stupendous hospitals

and institutions of one kind and another. What wealth of property,

what revenues and revenues of silver and gold! Who will dispute

that Rome is rich, possesses much? But since when are silver and

gold and splendid edifices the marks of the Church? If those things

constituted true churchliness, then none would have been more

despicable than the early Christians, for they had no churches and

worshiped in catacombs and the recesses of darkest forests. If

pompous ceremonies and spectacular display and strains of fine music

stand for the worship of God, the same might be seen and heard in

Jewish temples.

Over against this, what possessions does our Church glory in? To

mention a few. Open before us lies this holy Book, God's Book,

accessible to all, inviting examination and study of its sacred

pages, and that in a language not foreign, Latin, Greek, or Hebrew,

but intelligible to all its hearers and readers. Rome would not so

have it. It forbids its reading, and calls it a dangerous book. It

adds to its infallible teachings the traditions of men, and wants

all its pages read through the eye-glasses of the pope. It has

always been, and still is, to them an "unknown" Book. You have,

perchance, already seen the picture, quite familiar, which, beneath

the title "Caught," represents an aged man and his little grandchild

reading the Bible while some soldiers are seen entering the room

to arrest them. The story that connects with it is this: Philip

the Second of Spain and the Netherlands had sworn the pope that no

Protestant should be allowed to live in his provinces. In a little

town in Holland lived a good old man with his grandchild Bertha,

who had become believers in the doctrines of the Reformation, and

since the Bible was forbidden to be read and everywhere taken from

the people, the only time for them to strengthen themselves with

its sacred contents was the dead of night. They were just reading

the fifth chapter of Matthew, wherein occur the words: "Blessed are

they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the

kingdom of heaven," when a rough knock on the door tells them that

the Roman spies had discovered them. "Grandfather," cries the child,

"we are caught." "Yes, my child. God's hour seems at hand." And it

was. The next moment the axes of the soldiers had battered down the

door; the Bible was seized and burned, the aged man and his little

granddaughter were hurried off to prison, and were tortured and

afterward stretched on the rack until they died amid horrible pain.

That is Rome's attitude toward the Bible. Thank God, then, for this

blessed possession, a free Bible, which we read everywhere and at

all times.

Then, too, there is the blessed Sacrament, not in its mutilated

shape, the lay people deprived of the cup, but in both species. We

possess that. Furthermore, our services. Take those stately and

sublime hymns that are the inspiration and comfort of a Protestant

Christian. The Romish Church knows them not, the people do not

sing at their services. They are deprived of that. Then, when

we pray--what a possession, the privilege of free, unlimited,

and direct access to God's throne, without the intercession and

intervention of priests and patron saints, but according to Christ's

invitation and commandment: "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are

heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

Here, then, are a few of the many blessings we glory in, wrought and

brought back to us through the Lutheran Reformation, and for which

on this day we thank and praise God.

And now a few words yet as to the third part mentioned, the glory

of _prospect_.--When Luther closed his eyes, our haughty enemies

predicted the death of the Lutheran Church. As a Romish priest

once said to a Lutheran peasant, "With your Church it will soon be

'Matthaei am letzten,'" that is, Matthew the last, which is a German

expression meaning, "Things will soon be at an end with you." The

peasant remarked, since he was acquainted with his Bible, "That's

splendid!" In Matthew, the last chapter and the last verse, our

Savior says: "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the

world." Our Church has come to stay, for it is Christ's Church,

and the gates of hell shall not prevail against that. Great in

membership, numbering millions of souls, spread throughout every

people and nation, her faith proclaimed in nearly every dialect and

tongue of earth, great is her prospect.

Take it in this land of ours. Men are awakening more and more to

an appreciation of her history and progress and power. In this

age of unsettling of creeds and of abandonment of time-honored

convictions, in the age of sensationalism and of pulpits which have

no messages, except those of political and sociological interest,

the old Church of the Reformation stands where she ever stood. Mr.

Roosevelt remarked while he was President of the United States: "The

Lutheran Church is of very great power numerically and through the

intelligence and thrift of its members; but it will grow steadily

to even greater power. It is destined to be one of the two or three

greatest in the United States."

If, then, to conclude, any of you have been ashamed of her,

apologized for being Lutherans, perchance even been casting their

eyes in other directions for church-fellowship, if any of us have

not been as loyal as we ought to have been, neglected her glorious

possessions, indifferent to the high blessings she affords in Word

and Sacrament and services, let him and her reflect and amend.