As no one came forward to discuss his Theses, Luther resolved to
publish them to the world.
In fourteen days they overspread Germany. In a month they ran through
all Christendom. One historian says it seemed as if the angels of God
were engaged in spreading them.
At a single stroke, made in modesty and faith, Luther had become the
most noted person in Germany--the man most talked of in all the
world--the mouthpiece of the best people in Christendom--the leader of
a mighty revolution.
Reuchlin read, and thanked God.
Erasmus read, and rejoiced, only counseling moderation and prudence.
The Emperor Maximilian read, and wrote to the Saxon Elector: "Take
care of the monk Luther, for the time may come when we will need him."
The bishop of Wurzburg read, and was filled with gladness, and wrote
to the Elector Frederick to hold on to Luther as a preacher of the
truth of God.
The prior of Steinlausitz read, and could not suppress his joy. "See
here," said he to his monks: "the long-waited-for has come; he tells
the truth. _Berg_ means mountain, and _Wittenberg_ is the mountain
whither all the world will come to seek wisdom, and will find it."
A student of Annaberg read, and said, "This Luther is the reaper in my
dream, whom the voice bade me follow and gather in the bread of life;"
and from that hour he was a fast friend of Luther and his cause, and
became the distinguished Myconius.
The pope himself read the Theses, and did not think unfavorably of
their author. He saw in Luther a man of learning and brilliant genius,
and that pleased him. The questions mooted he referred to a mere
monkish jealousy--an unsober gust of passion which would soon blow
over. He did not then realize the seriousness which was in the matter.
His sphere was heathen art and worldly magnificence, not searching
into the ways of God's salvation.
The great German heart was moved, and the brave daring of him whose
voice was thus lifted up against the abominations which were draining
the country to fill the pope's coffers was hailed with enthusiasm.
Had Luther been a smaller man he would have been swept away by his
vast and sudden fame.
But not all was sunshine. Erasmus wittily said, Luther committed two
unpardonable sins: he touched the pope's crown and the monks' bellies.
Such effrontery would needs raise a mighty outcry.
Prierias, the master of the sacred palace, pronounced Luther a
heretic. Hochstrat of Cologne, Reuchlin's enemy, clamored for fire to
burn him. The indulgence-venders thundered their anathemas, promising
a speedy holocaust of Luther's body. The monasteries took on the form
of so many kennels of enraged hounds howling to each other across the
spiritual waste. And even some who pronounced the Theses scriptural
and orthodox shook their heads and sought to quash such dangerous
proceedings.
But Luther remained firm at his post. He honestly believed what he had
written, and he was not afraid of the truth. If the powers of the
world should come down upon him and kill him, he was prepared for the
slaughter. In all the mighty controversy he was ever ready to serve
the Gospel with his life or with his death.