Showing posts with label Martin Luther. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Martin Luther. Show all posts

Saturday, June 14, 2025

A Mighty Fortress is our God

 A Mighty Fortress is our God

The name of Martin Luther is rightly associated with Theology and Reformation.  He was also a man who moved mightily to reform worship within the church, writing a number of hymns.  Trained as a young man in the flute and singing in the choir, he had a heart and a head for music.  He worked hard to revive congregational singing, often borrowing tunes from secular music, and sometimes feeling later compelled to “give that music back to the devil” because it was too closely associated with bars and taverns.

He once wrote, “Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world…A person who…does not regard music as a marvelous creation of God…does not deserve to be called a human being; he should be permitted to hear nothing but the braying of [donkeys] and the grunting of hogs.”

Often in times of difficulty, Martin would turn to Philip Melanchthon, a trusted friend, and sing with him a hymn which has become Martin’s most popular and enduring hymn.  A hymn based entirely on the 46th Psalm.  “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” (Psalm 46:1).


A mighty fortress is our God.  A bulwark never failing.

Our helper He amid the flood, Of mortal ills prevailing.

For still our ancient foe,  Doth seek to work us woe –

His craft and power are great, And armed with cruel hate, On earth is not his equal.


Did we in our own strength confide.  Our striving would be losing.

Were not the right man on our side, The man of God’s own choosing.

Dost ask who that may be?  Christ Jesus, it is He –

Lord Sab-a-oth His name, From age to age the same, And He must win the battle.


And though this world with devils filled, Should threaten to undo us.

We will not fear, for God hath willed, His truth to triumph through us

The prince of darkness grim, We tremble not for him –

His rage we can endure, For lo, his doom is sure, One little word shall fell him.


That word above all earthly powers, No thanks to them abideth.

The Spirit and the gifts are ours,  Through Him who with us sideth.

Let goods and kindred go, This mortal life also –

The body they may kill, God’s truth abideth still; His kingdom is forever.



Morgan, Robert J, Then Sings My Soul, Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2003.

 




 

 

Saturday, January 2, 2021

Martin Luther’s letter, ‘Whether One May Flee From A Deadly Plague’

Martin Luther’s letter, ‘Whether One May Flee From A Deadly Plague’

The year was 1527, well into the time of the nascent Protestant Reformation.  The Black Plague had cropped up in Wittenburg and outlying areas and was ravaging the area.  It was well-known that this disease had killed about half of the entire European continent just a few generations before.

People of means tended to flee the plague.  They often had country homes or relatives in distant lands where they could flee to and wait out the disease.  Those without the means to do so stayed as sheltered as they could within the confines of the city. 

It was against this backdrop that Reverend Doctor Johann Hess, Protestant pastor at Breslau, Germany, wrote to Martin Luther requesting his advice on the question of whether it was sinful for him to flee the plague, or if his Christian duties compelled him to stay.  For the record, Martin Luther and his entire family stayed behind to assist in alleviating the suffering of his flock for the duration of the plague.

Knowing the intent of Rev Hess was to publish the letter for the edification of other ministers, Luther penned an 8-page reply.  The letter is a masterpiece of Biblical wisdom coupled with common sense, and gives us direction not only with the current (comparatively mild) COVID-19 pandemic, but also as an example of Biblical interpretation in light of current events.

Regarding those in the ministry, Luther says that, in principle, they should stay.  “A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep, but the hireling sees the wolf coming and flees” (John 10:11).  The need for ministers of the Gospel is very real in a situation where people are dying.  In practice, Luther encourages the clergy of the city to gather together and determine how best to meet the spiritual needs of the city in such a circumstance – with some leaving and some staying. 

Regarding those in public office (mayors, judges, etc), they are the fine line between order and anarchy.  As they were appointed by God to their role, they should stay and fulfill their duties unless some provision has been made for their duties to be assumed in their absence.  Likewise, those with a role of service to another (naming domestic servants, parents, and children) should not flee unless provision for their duties is taken over by another.

Finally, faithful Christians not in the above categories must evaluate themselves.  There is no shame in fleeing, provided their leaving does not endanger another or leave the sick without provision or care.  As Christians, we have a stated responsibility to help our neighbors in time of need as if that neighbor were Christ Himself.  We are hypocrites if we say we would help Jesus in time of need, but do nothing to assist a neighbor in a critical time.  Likewise, we dishonor Jesus if we take unneeded risks or avoid routine medical care at such a critical time.  The latter, Luther asserts, moves us from the point of trusting God, to the point of testing God.

Luther points out practical measures such as keeping a distance (i.e. ‘social distancing’), quarantining when sick, and making provision for those in quarantine.  He also circles back to the Spiritual – stating that in such a time people should: 1.) Attend church and listen to the sermon to learn through God’s Word ‘how to live and how to die.’; 2.) Become reconciled with your neighbors and make your heart right with God; and 3.) Those tending the sick should take care not to wait until the last minute to call for the pastor.  Too often, the pastor would arrive to find the person incoherent or past the point of being able to respond to the Gospel.

Luther, thus, lays out his logic for a Biblical response of a minister to a devastating plague.  While he does not say this directly, the full intent of his letter is to pull a person away from focus on self to a focus on the ministry to others: first of all if our position in life demands it, and secondly if there is a real opportunity to show love to our neighbor – love which involves a level of risk in ministering to those in need.

https://blogs.lcms.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/Plague-blogLW.pdf


 

 

Saturday, March 7, 2020

The Book of Romans



Romans – its impact on the church

The book of Romans is Paul’s theological Magnum Opus.  Paul had written to a church he had presumably never yet visited to ensure they were well-grounded in the Faith.  Since then, Paul’s letter to the Roman church has affected countless people and has shaped the course of the church.

In 386 AD, a brilliant young teacher of rhetoric living in Milan, Italy, was in the middle of a personal crisis.  He had come under the influence of the great Bishop Ambrose of Milan, and had begun to question his own lifestyle.  He was grossly indulging his flesh, including living with a mistress, and he knew his Christian mother was grieving over her son’s sin.  In the midst of his own personal crisis he heard a child outside his garden singing the repetitive words “Take up and read, take up and read.”  He looked for the child, but could not locate him.  Sensing this as a sign from God, he opened the Bible and read at random from Romans 13:13-14, “Not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual promiscuity and sensuality, not in strife and jealousy.  But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh in regard to its lusts.”  Saint Augustine later wrote about this in his autobiography ‘Confessions’, “I neither wished nor needed to read further.  At once, with the last words of this sentence, it was as if a light of relief from all anxiety flooded into my heart.  All the shadows of doubt were dispelled.”

In the early 16th Century, a young monk and professor in Wittenburg, Germany, began a series of lectures on the Book of Romans.  He re-read 1:17, “…the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith; as it is written, ‘But the righteous man shall live by faith.’ “  These words troubled him a great deal and set him on the road to discovering that is was not his own works which saved him, but righteousness which comes by faith.  This was how Martin Luther was used by God as the spark that started the Great Reformation.  Martin Luther later described the book of Romans, “This Epistle is really the chief part of the New Testament and the very purest Gospel, and is worthy not only that every Christian should know it word for word, by heart, but occupy himself with it every day, as the daily bread of the soul.  It can never be read or pondered too much, and the more it is dealt with the more precious is becomes, and the better it tastes.”

In May of 1738, a young man sat, despondent.  Previously, he had felt the call to ministry and had come to Georgia in North America to preach to the natives there.  En route, he fell into the company of a group of Moravian Christians whose sincerity and simplicity of faith astonished him.  He wrote in his journal “I have come to save the Indians, but oh!  Who shall save me?”  He did not last long as a missionary and returned home to contemplate his life and his faith.  On May 24th, he reluctantly attended a Christian gathering.  There, he heard a man reading aloud the preface to Martin Luther’s commentary on Romans.  John Wesley wrote about his experience there, “while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed.  I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death.”

Many of the early church fathers had much to say about Romans.  Its impact on the church is incalculable.



Saturday, October 26, 2019

Reformation Day


Reformation Day

In the Christian world, October 31st has a meaning much more significant than Halloween.  It was on October 31st, 1517, that Martin Luther posted his 95 theses on the church door at Wittenberg, Germany, sparking the Reformation.  Historically, many factors were in motion.  The printing press was just then coming into its own as a way to reach the masses.  The corruption of the Catholic church, including the sale of indulgences, ecclesiastical abuse, and the thought among high members of the clergy that a person could literally buy their way into Heaven was widespread and obvious.  Germany was coming into its own as a nation.  Political circumstances existed which kept Catholic officials from prosecuting Luther before the spark could be fanned into a flame.  In short, the time was right for Reformation.

Martin Luther had been struggling with some of the taught doctrines of the church, especially the sale of indulgences.  An ‘indulgence’ was the teaching that an offering of money given by a penitent person could save an individual from some or all of his time in Purgatory.  An envoy from the Papacy named Johann Tetzel had a display of religious relics scheduled for November 1st, 1517, in Wittenberg, in an effort to raise more money - ultimately destined for the building of St Peter’s Basilica in Rome.  Tetzel was a salesman, penning catchy jingles like: “the cross of the seller of indulgences has as much power as the cross of Christ,” and “when the coin in the coffer rings, the soul from purgatory springs.”  These practices roused the righteous wrath of the upstart Friar who penned the famed ‘95 Theses’ as an effort to drive debate on whether this practice, and others he found objectionable, should truly be practiced in the Church. “If the Pope can grant dispensation from sins,” Luther argued, “why, then, does he not grant that dispensation as an act of charity - even without a forced monetary contribution?”

Martin Luther intended to reform the Church from within - nailing his questions to the door of the church was a common way for a scholar to initiate debate on a topic.  It was only when his theses were translated from Latin into German and published for the masses to see that the drive for separation from Roman Catholicism took place.  Luther’s teaching of salvation by grace, through faith in Christ, was readily accepted by the masses.  They seem to have been looking for a central figure to rally around who could give an educated voice to the objections many observed within their local churches.

Martin Luther was a driven man, who could be very coarse and impolitely blunt in expressing his opinion.  He was known to be vulgar at times, but was the blunt object needed to make a break from the excesses and error into which the Catholic church of the day had fallen.


Gonzalez, Justo L, The Story of Christianity, Vol 2, Harper Collins Publishing, 1985.



Saturday, March 9, 2019

Katharina Von Bora (Luther)



Katharina Von Bora (Luther)

Around the year 1523 and friend of Martin Luther’s named Leonhard Koppe came to him with a problem.  He had, years ago, committed his daughter to a Benedictine convent at age 3.  Her father missed her greatly and had received some secret communication from her, but had no options to get her back.  Helping a nun to escape, in this part of the world, was a capital offense.

Martin used some contacts to get his friend a job delivering fish to the convent.  There, Leonhard was able to facilitate communication with his daughter, who mentioned there might be some friends who would join her in her escape.  One day, Leonhard drove his wagon into the convent with twelve barrels of herring and drove out with a fugitive nun hidden inside each empty barrel, back to Wittenberg and Martin Luther.  One man in Wittenberg wrote, “A wagon load of vestal virgins has just come to town, all more eager for marriage that for life [itself].”

Leonhard claimed his daughter, and Martin felt a sense of responsibility toward the young women and set about, first to find their families, then finding them eligible husbands.  He married them all off but one, Miss Katharina Von Bora, a feisty redhead who, at age 22, was well beyond the usual age of marriage.  Martin widened and widened the net until two years later he found an elderly widower who would be willing to marry Katharina and give her the security she would need.  Martin took her to meet him and made the formal introduction.  Katarina told Martin, “Sir, this gentleman is not acceptable!”   Still looking at her patron, she continued, “but if YOU were to ask me, I’d say ‘Yes’!”

While Martin had encouraged marriage for ministers, he shunned it for himself, thinking the constant threat of a heretic’s death to be an unfair burden to any woman.  Nevertheless, in the summer of 1525, the 42-year-old former monk married the 24-year-old former nun and the Luther household was born.  Initially, it was a marriage of convenience, Luther writing this his marriage would, “please his father, rile the Pope, cause the angels to laugh, and the devils to weep.”  Martin’s Catholic critics turned their venom on his new bride, one pamphlet calling her a “poor, fallen woman” who had passed “from the cloistered holy religion into a damnable, shameful life.”  Katharina did not seem at all affected by the harsh criticism, and kept her focus on the success of her husband.  Over a short time, the marriage of convenience became one of a deep love and respect for each other.

Katharina, or “my Lord Katie”, as he often called her, stormed into his life, setting his domestic affairs in order: bring order to the finances, seeing to his health, and making certain Martin’s habit of giving money away thoughtlessly didn’t damage the family coffers too badly.  Owing to Martin’s bouts of gout, insomnia, constipation, stones, dizziness, and ringing of the ears, Katharina became very proficient at herbal medicines and massage.  She also had an incredible intellect, respectfully challenging her husband in the areas of theology he was studying.  At such times, he referred to her as “Doctora Lutherin.”  She was a bundle of energy, who harnessed that energy into being a blessing to her husband.

The Augustinian monastery where Martin once stayed was purchased by a nobleman and gifted to the Luthers.  Katharina arranged for boarding of their frequent guests in the rooms, at times being hospitable to 30 guests at a time, supervised planting of the fields, managed an orchard, harvested a fish pond, directed the barnyard, and even slaughtered the livestock.  Martin wrote, “In domestic affairs, I defer to Katie.  In everything else, I am led by the Holy Spirit.”

Katharina found time in all this activity to bear six children, three boys and three girls, born in a span of seven years.  The Luthers also adopted four children.  Their hearts were broken when their daughter Elizabeth died at age 8 months, and again when another daughter, Magdalena, died at age 13.  Martin seemed to take great joy in performing some of the ‘womanly’ tasks for his wife.  He reserved for himself, as often as he was home, the chore of washing diapers.

Katharina also made certain Martin’s personal priorities were in order.  Martin had, while single, seen the marriage covenant as somewhat of a broken institution and preached often on the responsibilities of husbands to take more of an active role in their marriage and domestic life.  ‘Lord Katie’ held him to this standard.  One story is related about Martin locking himself in his study, so enmeshed in his studies that he ignored his family for five days.  After five days, she removed the hinges from the door so the children could storm in.

They were married for 21 years before Martin Luther passed away in 1546.  His wife wrote, “For who would not be sad and afflicted at the loss of such a precious man as my dear lord was?  He did great things not just for a city or a single land, but for the whole world.  Therefore I am truly so deeply grieved that I cannot…eat or drink, nor can I sleep.  And if I had a principality or an empire and lost it, it would not have been as painful as it is now that the dear Lord God has taken from me this precious and beloved man, and not from me alone, but from the whole world.”

Christian History Magazine – two editions on the life of Martin Luther


Sunday, October 14, 2018

Martin Luther - Part 2

Martin Luther – Part 2

Martin was not executed after the Council at Worms, but was declared an outlaw. This would have given free rein to anyone with a desire to harm him. Luther’s patron, Frederick III “The Wise” actually kidnapped him and took him to his palace for his protection. Luther despised being locked up, but produced many writings there, as well as getting a great start on the German Bible.

It is interesting to note that during Luther’s trial, one of the Papal prosecutors stated, “Sir, if you are successful, there will one day be as many sects of Christianity as there are Christians.”

Once the threats to his life subsided, Luther began to preach and write with great vigor. He showed very little tolerance for deviations from what he considered to be good doctrine. He admitted his own problem with anger, claiming that, when directed against the enemies of God, it helped him to write well, to pray, and to preach. He wrote, “Anger refreshes all my blood, sharpens my mind, and drives away temptations.” He often used harsh profanity in debates and in personal letters, but rarely in his books and pamphlets. As the reformation grew legs, and other brilliant men jumped on the bandwagon, Luther often saved his harshest words for them. On at least one occasion, while in an informal debate in a German pub, Luther threw his guilder of beer at an opponent!

Even while he was still a monk, Martin Luther saw the need for a reformation in terms of marriage. He saw that men were abusive, at least in their attitudes toward their wives. He actively encouraged fathers to free their daughters from convents, which was a capital offense, even assisting one man in 1523 who plotted the escape of his daughter and eleven other young women who were smuggled out of their convent in empty herring barrels. One man in Wittenberg wrote of this, “A wagonload of vestal virgins has just come to town, all more eager for marriage than for life.”

Luther found husbands for eleven of these women, but was unable to find a suitable match for Katherine von Bora, a redhead (in truth, and in attitude) in her mid-20s – well beyond the usual age for marriage. When Luther proposed one older gentleman, she refused, but added that if Martin himself were willing, she would say yes.

Martin was not willing to be married, mostly because he expected the death due to a heretic at any moment. He gave in both to the example he wanted to set for pastors and his parents’ desire for grandchildren, though, and in 1525 the 41-year-old former monk married the 26-year-old former nun. One pamphlet against Luther labeled Katherine a “poor, fallen woman” who had passed “from the cloistered holy religion into a damnable, shameful life.”

The marriage began as a marriage of convenience, a way to poke Catholicism in the eye. Over time, Martin developed a very deep affection and love for her. He once declared, “I would not give my Katie for France and Venice together.” She brought order to Martin’s finances, became an expert in herbal medicines to cure his various illnesses, planted fields, cared for an orchard, harvested a fish pond, managed a barnyard, and slaughtered livestock. Hospitality-minded, she also cared for literally hundreds of boarders over the years.

Katherine seemed to manage Martin’s very life, in many ways – a management he patiently endured and even treasured. He often called her “my lord Kate,” a reference to her stubborn insistence on order and balance in his personal life. Martin, used to solitude in his study, once locked himself in his study for three days, until Katie removed the hinges from the door. The Luthers had six children, whom Martin called his “little heathen from God,” four of whom lived to adulthood. He joyfully shared in the chores of parenthood, even performing the “womanly” task of washing diapers. When Martin died, he broke with the tradition of assigning a man to manage his estate and provide for his wife and children, instead leaving everything directly to Katherine.

Some of Martin Luther’s quotes on marriage:
“There’s a lot to get used to in the first year of marriage. One wakes up in the morning and finds a pair of pigtails on the pillow that were not there before.”
“Of course, the Christian should love his wife. He is supposed to love his neighbor, and since his wife is his nearest neighbor, she should be his deepest love.”
“The Devil cannot bear to see married people agree well with each other.”
“People who do not like children are swine, dunces, and blockheads, not worthy to be called men and women, because they despise the blessing of God, the Creator and Author of marriage.”
“To have peace and love in a marriage is a gift that is next to the knowledge of the Gospel.”
“In domestic affairs I defer to Katie. Otherwise, I am led by the Holy Ghost.”

Martin Luther was an accomplished musician. He was an accomplished lute player, and even tried his hand at composition. It was during one of the most trying times of his life, the year 1527, that Martin Luther wrote one of his most famous hymns. On April 22nd, a dizzy spell forced him to stop his sermon midway. On July 6th, as friends were arriving for dinner, he felt an intense buzzing in his ear. He laid down, then panicked and shouted for water. He felt he was going to die, and took pains to make peace with people there. He obviously recovered, but suffered from bouts of depression.

In August, a plague erupted in Wittenberg. Many people of means fled, but Martin felt it was his duty as a pastor to remain. Remain he did, with his first son and wife pregnant with a second child. His house was transformed into a hospital, and he watched many friends die. His son even grew ill. In November, the plague subsided. Late that year, reflecting on his trials, and on the fact that his 95 theses had been published 10 years before, he penned his most famous hymn – at least that has been translated into English – “A Mighty Fortress in Our God.”

A mighty fortress is our God, A bulwark never failing; Our helper He, amid the flood Of mortal ills prevailing: For still our ancient foe Doth seek to work us woe; His craft and power are great, and armed with cruel hate, On earth is not his equal.

Did we in our own strength confide, Our striving would be losing; Were not the right Man on our side, The Man of God’s own choosing: Dost ask why that may be? Christ Jesus it is He; Lord Sabaoth, His name, From age to age the same, and He must win the battle.

And tho’ this world, with devils filled, Should threaten to undo us, We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph thro’ us: The Prince of Darkness grim, We tremble not for him; His rage we can endure, For lo his doom is sure, One little word shall fell him.

That word above all earthly pow’rs, No thanks to them abideth; The Spirit and the gifts are ours Thro’ Him who with us sideth: Let goods and kindred go, This mortal life also: The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still, His Kingdom is forever.


Christian History Magazine – two editions on the life of Martin Luther

Martin Luther - Part 1

Martin Luther – Part 1

Martin Luther, born in the late 15th Century, was the son of a copper miner. His father was climbing the ladder of the scant middle class in Germany. Martin showed great academic promise, so his father made arrangements to send him to law school – which would solidify the financial state of Martin, as well as his parents, for the future. He began legal school at age 14, earning his baccalaureate and master’s degrees in the shortest time allowed by the university.

During his time at law school, Martin began to have doubts about his spiritual state, and took a leave of absence from doctoral school in 1505 (at age 21) to discuss this with family and friends. On his ride home, he was caught in a lightning storm and a bolt of lightning hit very close to where he was. In fear he cried out, “Help me, Saint Anne! I will become a monk!” Saint Anne was very familiar to him, as she was the patron saint of miners.

Martin kept his word, and entered the strictest Augustinian monastery he could find, after giving away all his possessions. He was an impeccable student and was very observant. He did not just endure, but he earnestly pursued the prayer, fasts, and ascetic practices such as going without sleep, enduring cold without a blanket, and self-flagellation. He later remarked, “If anyone could have earned Heaven by the life of a monk, it was I.” He was instructed to undertake the study of theology and quickly rose to become one of the Order’s teachers.

As Martin continued to study, he became more fearful of God, and had continued doubts of his own salvation. His teachers taught that God demanded absolute righteousness (“Be perfect, even as your Father in Heaven is perfect…”). If you weren’t perfect, you had to repent in a contrite manner, not for the selfish purpose of saving yourself. This requirement for perfect contrition plagued him, because he knew his own works were purely selfish, the desire to save his own skin.

Luther was drawn to Romans 1:17 (which later became the ‘text of the Reformation’), “…the righteous shall live by faith.” Luther knew deep down that he was not righteous, therefore he could not live by faith. Luther, with all his piety, knew his incredible works did him no good. He confessed his doubts to his superior in the Order, and was even told to go out and commit a ‘real’ sin. “You want to be without sin, but you don’t have any real sins anyway…the you must not inflate your halting, artificial sins out of proportion!” Martin’s conscience would not permit this, “Yet my conscience would never give me assurance, but I was always doubting and said ‘You did not perform that correctly. You were not contrite enough. You left that out of your confession.’ “

As he continued to meditate on and study Romans 1:17, he later stated about this: “I was seized with the conviction that I must understand Paul’s letter to the Romans…but to that one moment one phrase in Chapter 1 stood in my way. I hated the idea, “in it the righteousness of God is revealed.” …I hated the righteous God who punishes sinners… At last, meditating day and night and by the mercy of God, I began to understand that the righteousness of God is that through which the righteous live by a gift from God, namely by faith…Here I felt as if I were entirely born again and had entered paradise itself through gates that had been flung open.”

In 1517, Pope Leo X sent his aide, Johannes Tetzel, on a fund-raising journey. Tetzel offered the sale of indulgences – monetary contributions to limit the stay in purgatory for deceased loved ones. Tetzel preached on emotion, and usually ended his pitch with a catchy jingle, “When the coin in the coffer rings, the soul from Purgatory springs!” This money was used to fund church projects, primarily the vast renovation of St Peter’s Basilica.

Martin Luther was very bothered by the sale of indulgences, in addition to his other struggles. He posted a list of 95 questions, the famous “95 theses” on the door of the church at Wittenburg on All Saints’ Eve. They were written in Latin, and were meant to be a formal introduction to debate on the sale of indulgences and a few other points Luther questioned.

Enter “mass media”. An individual unknown to history made a copy of Luther’s theses, translated them into German, and within two weeks, they were spread across Germany. Martin’s questions proved to be a flashpoint that allowed many individuals to question what they instinctively know to be wrong. By Spring of 1518, Luther was called to Heidelberg to debate the underlying theological issues. The flashpoint issue quickly moved from indulgences to the authority of the church: Did the Pope have the right to issue indulgences?

A number of public debates ensued, and Martin wrote prolifically to buttress his views. Eventually, his opponents were forbidden from debating with him – unless it was on the subject of church and Papal authority. Growing increasingly frustrated, Luther declared “A simple layman armed with the Scriptures” was superior to both Pope and church councils which did not have them. Pope Leo X issued a Papal bull threatening excommunication for Martin and anyone who followed his teachings. Luther publicly burned this, along with a copy of Canon Law. Luther’s writings urges rulers to take the reform of the church into their own hands; reduced the seven Catholic Sacraments to three (baptism, the Lord’s Supper, and penance), then instructed Christians that they were free from the Law of the church, while they were bound in love to their neighbors.

In Spring of 1521, at the urging of the Pope, the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V, held a “Diet” – a meeting – in the city of Worms. Martin Luther thought this to be another debate. He was awed to see Charles V himself, surrounded by his advisors and representatives of Rome, bishops, princes, and representatives of great cities. They were all standing around a table piled high with Luther’s writings. This was not to be a debate, but a judicial hearing. He was asked simply if those were his writings, and secondly if he would recant. Martin, taken aback, asked for a day to consider the matter.

The following day, Luther was again ushered into the great hall. He was asked the same questions, and he had a short prepared speech. He repeated it in Latin for the benefit of Emperor Charles V. Then the chief prosecutor demanded a simple answer, “Will you recant or not?” Luther replied, “Unless I can be instructed and convinced with evidence from the Holy Scriptures or with open, clear, and distinct grounds of reasoning…then I cannot and will not recant, because it is neither safe nor wise to act against conscience. Here I stand. I can do no other. May God help me. Amen.”