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 not known 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 a man rarely puts
forth any 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 seemed to be proud contemners of the wisdom of
the time, and because they advanced novelties without having first humbly
taken counsel of the oracles of the ancient opinions.”
Again he declared: “Whatever I do will be done, not by the prudence of
men, but by the counsel of God. If the work be of God, who shall stop it?
if it be not, who can forward it? Not my will, nor theirs, nor ours; but
Thy will, O holy Father, which art in heaven.”(176)
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 in 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, of both 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, before whom ... the kings of
the earth and the whole world trembled? ... No one can know what my heart
suffered during these first two years, and into what despondency, I may
say into what despair, I was sunk.”(177) 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 the intellect. Your first
duty is to begin by prayer. Entreat the Lord to grant you, of His great
mercy, the true understanding of His word. There is no other interpreter
of the word of God than the Author of this word, as He Himself has said,
‘They shall be all taught of God.’ Hope for nothing from your own labors,
from your own understanding: trust solely in God, and in the influence of
His Spirit. Believe this on the word of a man who has had
experience.”(178) 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 devised. 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 high treason against the church to allow so horrible a
heretic to live one hour longer. Let the scaffold be instantly erected for
him!”(179) 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 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. The word 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 wide-spread 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 constrain without any
delay.” If he should remain steadfast, and the legate should fail to gain
possession of his person, he was empowered “to proscribe him in every part
of Germany; to banish, curse, and excommunicate all those who are attached
to him.”(180) And further, the pope directed his legate, in order entirely
to root out the pestilent heresy, to excommunicate all, of whatever
dignity 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 Melanchthon to Wittenberg. Young in
years, modest and diffident in his manners, Melanchthon’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 their
threats increase, the more my joy is multiplied.... They have already
destroyed my honor and my reputation. One single thing remains; it is my
wretched body: let them take it; they will thus shorten my life by a few
hours. But as for my soul, they cannot take that. He who desires to
proclaim the word of Christ to the world, must expect death at every
moment.”(181)
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.
The only response was, “Retract, retract!” 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.”(182)
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 cause. 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.”(183)
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 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 he 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 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 me that Martin’s doctrine is
impious, antichristian, or heretical.’ The prince refused, moreover, to
send Luther to Rome, or to expel him from his states.”(184)
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 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,
“raised their hands to heaven, and praised God for having caused the light
of truth to shine forth from this city, as from Zion in times of old, and
whence it spread even to the most distant countries.”(185)
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 decrees of the
pontiffs, and ... I do not know whether the pope is antichrist himself, or
his apostle, so greatly is Christ misrepresented and crucified in
them.”(186) 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 deathlike 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 God’s hands,”
answered Luther. “He is my strength and my shield. What can man do unto
me?”(187) 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 cottages and convents, ... in the
castles of the nobles, in the universities, and 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!”(188)
In an appeal to the emperor and nobility of Germany in behalf of the
Reformation of Christianity, Luther wrote concerning the pope: “It is a
horrible thing to behold the man who styles himself Christ’s vicegerent,
displaying a magnificence that no emperor can equal. Is this being like
the poor Jesus, or the humble Peter? He is, say they, the lord of the
world! But Christ, whose vicar he boasts of being, has said, ‘My kingdom
is not of this world.’ Can the dominions of a vicar extend beyond those of
his superior?”(189)
He wrote thus of the universities: “I am much afraid that the universities
will prove to be the great gates of hell, unless they diligently labor in
explaining the Holy Scriptures, and engraving them in the hearts of youth.
I advise no one to place his child where the Scriptures do not reign
paramount. Every institution in which men are not unceasingly occupied
with the word of God must become corrupt.”(190)
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, nor do I care to know.... Let the blow light where it
may, I am without fear. 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 thing to
die for the Word, since the Word which was made flesh 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.”(191)
When the papal bull reached Luther, he said: “I despise and attack it, as
impious, false.... It is _Christ_ Himself who is condemned therein.... I
rejoice in having to bear such ills for the best of causes. Already I feel
greater liberty in my heart; for at last I know that the pope is
antichrist, and that his throne is that of Satan himself.”(192)
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 be risked in the
cause of reform. Everything seemed to indicate that the Reformer’s work
was about to close.