Did Martin Luther lead
the Protestant reformers to recapture the "faith once delivered"? The
answers are SHOCKING! You need to understand the beginnings of modern
Protestantism.
by Roderick C. Meredith
PART IV
MILLIONS
of Protestant books, pamphlets and tracts boldly proclaim as the Protestant
foundation: "The Bible, the whole Bible, and nothing but the Bible, is the
religion of Protestants."
In
the first three installments of this series, we learned from the Bible and the
record of history that a remarkable change
took place in nominal Christianity soon after the death of the original
Apostles. Pagan ceremonies,
traditions, and ideas were introduced into the professing Christian church.
Later, we found that during the "Dark" ages that followed, the
corruption and worldliness of the ruling Catholic Church led professing
Christians of that era to superstitious beliefs and observances that would have
shocked Peter or Paul!
We
have asked: Was the Protestant movement
a reformation of God's true Church gone wrong? Did the Protestant reformers restore the "faith once delivered
unto the saints"? Was this movement inspired and guided by God's Holy
Spirit? Do the "fruits" prove this?
Now
we will come directly to the beginning of the actual Reformation under Martin
Luther.
Luther's Revolt Against Rome
As
we have seen, on the eve of the Reformation there were many complaints and
abuses that called for reform. Those who were responsible for the spiritual and
material welfare of the people were content to preserve the status quo, because
it served to their own enrichment and religious or political advantage.
Yet
the people cried out for financial relief — for at least some measure of political freedom. And the yoke of religious
oppression laid heavily on the
populace of Europe.
Some
outstanding personality was needed to sound the cry of alarm, which would
inevitably set off a universal explosion which had long been smoldering. Yet no ordinary leader, no matter what his
ideals or personal brilliance, could fulfill this role. It would take someone
who could identify himself with the unspoken cravings of the local princes, the
middle classes, the peasants — who could uniquely identify himself with their
long-suffered grievances, and so become a symbol of the universal urge for a
complete revolution in the religious, social, and political life of that day.
Such
a man was Martin Luther.
The
complete identification of Luther with the Protestant Reformation, the
uniqueness of his personality as its center and rallying point, is attested to
by all historians. Fisher describes this circumstance: “Unquestionably the hero of the Reformation
was Luther. Without him and his powerful influence, other reformatory
movements, even such as had an independent beginning, like that of Zwingle,
might have failed of success . . . . Luther apart from the Reformation would
cease to be Luther." (The Reformation, p. 87).
An
understanding of the basic facts concerning Luther's childhood and youthful
life is important as a background to an adequate comprehension of his later
beliefs and doctrines.
Luther's
Early Life
Martin
Luther was born at Eisleben, Germany, in 1483, the son of a peasant. The family
moved to Mansfield six months after Luther's birth and he was brought up there
in an atmosphere of austerity and disciplined virtue.
An
intimate glimpse is given into Luther's early home and school life in a recent
work by Roland Bainton: "Luther is reported to have said, 'My mother caned
me for stealing a nut, until the blood came. Such strict discipline drove me to
the monastery, although she meant it well.' This saying is reinforced
by two others: 'My father once whipped me so that I ran away and felt ugly
toward him until he was at pains to win me back.' (At school) 'I was caned in a
single morning fifteen times for nothing at all. I was required to decline and
conjugate and hadn't learned my lesson.' " (Here I Stand, by Roland Bainton, p. 17).
Even
in these early glimpses, we can see a pattern of incidents that eventually led
Luther to want to escape authority
and any need for obedience. We need to understand his background of medieval superstition and fear in order to fully understand his emphasis on faith alone in later years.
The
atmosphere of Luther's family was decidedly that of rugged peasantry. But there
was a strong religious feeling in the family, and his father, Hans, prayed at
the bedside of his son, and his mother was known in the community as a very
devout person.
Yet
many elements of old German paganism were blended with Christian mythology in
the beliefs of the peasants. The woods, they thought, were peopled by elves,
gnomes, fairies, witches, and other spirits. Luther's own mother believed them
capable of stealing eggs, milk, and butter. Luther himself retained many of
these beliefs until his death. He once said: "In my native country on the
top of a high mountain called the Pubelsberg is a lake into which if a stone be
thrown a tempest will arise over the whole region because the waters are the
abode of captive demons" (Bainton,
p. 19). His early Catholic religious
life was filled with scenes of steeples, spires, cloisters, priests, monks of
various orders, collections of relics, ringing of bells, proclaiming of
indulgences, religious processions, and supposed cures at shrines. In all these
things, he had a normal religious upbringing for those days.
At
fifteen, Luther was sent to school at Eisenach, where his mother had relatives.
As did many of the other poor students there, he was obliged to sing in the
streets begging for bread. In 1501, Luther went to the University of Erfurt,
having agreed with his father to study for a legal career. While still a
student there, a number of spiritual crises upset Luther's course, and
eventually redirected his entire life.
Luther's
Own Spiritual Upheaval
Before
relating the specific events that led Luther to depart from the ordinary life
that his father had planned for him, it will be helpful to notice the effect
that the normal religious training of that age had on youths in general, and on
Luther in particular. "There is just one respect in which Luther appears
to have been different from other youths of his time, namely, in that he was
extraordinarily sensitive and subject to recurrent periods of exaltation and
depression of spirit. This oscillation of mood plagued him throughout his life.
He testified that it began in his youth and that the depressions had been acute
in the six months prior to his entry into the monastery" (Bainton, p. 20).
We
can see that Luther had a very troubled mind indeed. This problem of moodiness
— aggravated by a feeling of perpetual guilt,
which the Catholic doctrines engendered — made Luther seek a type of emotional
release from these inner conflicts.
Bainton
states: "The explanation lies rather in the tensions which medieval
religion deliberately induced, playing alternately upon fear and hope. Hell was
stoked, not because men lived in perpetual dread, but precisely because they
did not, and in order to instill enough fear to drive them to the sacraments of
the church. If they were petrified with terror, purgatory was introduced by way
of mitigation as an intermediate place where those not bad enough for hell nor
good enough for heaven might make further expiation. If this alleviation
inspired complacency, the temperature was advanced on purgatory, and then the
pressure was again relaxed through indulgences" (Here I Stand, p. 21).
Thus,
we can see that Luther's sensitivity was easily played upon by religious fears
that had been inculcated since childhood. These fears were an integral part of
the system, which Luther eventually came to abhor.
Perhaps
the first in a series of events, that led Luther gradually to his eventual role
as a reformer, was a discovery he made when he was twenty years old and had
already taken his Bachelor's degree. It happened that while he was looking one
day at the books in the Erfurt library that he casually picked up a copy of the
Latin Bible. This was the first time that he had ever held a copy of the
Bible in his hands, and he was surprised at the richness of its contents and
studied it eagerly (Fisher, The Reformation, p. 88). Although he had been for some time now
engrossed in humanistic studies, on reading the Scriptures for the first time
on this and subsequent occasions the deep
religious anxieties that had affected him from a child, returned and began to
occupy his thoughts.
Thunder
Strikes Luther
Later,
returning to Erfurt from a visit with his parents, a storm arose and a
thunderbolt struck down Luther and his companion. Luther quickly regained his feet,
but was deeply moved when he discovered that his friend, Alexis, had been
killed. Then and there, Luther determined to make his peace with God, and he
soon entered the Augustinian monastery at Erfurt to become a priest.
In
1507, he was ordained to the priesthood, but his studies and spiritual
exercises failed to bring him the inward peace he so desperately sought. He was
encouraged to study passages from the Scriptures, and the church fathers, by
Staupitz, the vicar of the order. But this study, although helpful, did not
quiet the restlessness and inward torment of Luther.
During
this time, many were struck by the remarkable
appearance of Luther. In 1518, a
contemporary said of him, "I could hardly look the man in the face, such a
diabolical fire darted out of his eyes" (Hausser, The Period of the
Reformation, p. 8).
Luther
Felt Unable to Obey God
Feeling
a deep sense of personal inadequacy
and sin, he set out to perform
whatever good works were prescribed for the saving of his soul. And there were
many such exercises recommended by the Catholicism of that day. "He
fasted, sometimes three days on end without a crumb. The seasons of fasting
were more consoling to him than those of feasting. Lent was more comforting
than Easter. He laid upon himself vigils and prayers in excess of those
stipulated by the rule. He cast off the blankets permitted him and well-nigh
froze himself to death. At times he was proud of his sanctity and would say, 'I
have done nothing wrong today.' Then misgivings would arise. 'Have you fasted
enough? Are you poor enough?' He would then strip himself of all, save that
which decency required. He believed in later life that his austerities had done
permanent damage to his digestion" (Bainton, p. 34).
All
Luther knew of Christ at this time was that He was a "stern judge"
from whom he would like to flee. Under a feeling of utter condemnation, Luther
persisted in afflicting his body and mind with the various religious exercises
practiced by the monks of his day. "If a monk ever won heaven by monkery,
he has said, I would have found my way there also; all my convent comrades will
bear witness to that" (Lindsay, History,
p. 427).
Notice
that these things all indicate Luther's strong attachment to the Roman church.
He was part and parcel with it, had been reared in it, steeped in its
doctrines. And as is often the case in similar instances, when the break did
come it was to be a violent one.
"The
trouble was that he could not satisfy God at any point. Commenting in later
life on the Sermon on the Mount, Luther gave searching expression to his
disillusionment. Referring to the precepts of Jesus he said: 'This word is too
high and too hard that anyone should fulfill it. This is proved, not merely by
our Lord's word, but by our own experience and feeling. Take any upright man or
woman. He will get along very nicely with those who do not provoke him, but let
someone proffer only the slightest irritation and he will flare up in anger . .
. if not against friends, then against enemies. Flesh and blood cannot rise
above it' " (Bainton, p. 34).
Determining
in his own mind that it is impossible
for man to perform what God requires, Luther continued his search for an answer
to his guilt complex. Having been made a professor in the University of
Wittenberg, which was operated in connection with the Augustinian monastery
there, he began to lecture on the epistles of Paul.
He
had hardly begun his exposition of the epistle to the Romans when his eyes
fastened on the passage, "the just shall
live by faith" (Romans
1:17). These words made a profound impression on Luther, and he pondered
their meaning at great length.
His
Disillusionment With the Papacy
When
Luther visited Rome at some time during this period, he ran about the city full
of devotional ardor, attempting to secure for himself the spiritual blessings
that were offered by viewing various holy relics and doing penance at sacred
shrines. While he did penance upon the stairs of the so-called judgment seat of
Pilate, the haunting text of Scripture again entered his mind — "the just
shall live by faith."
Throughout
Luther's stay in Rome, disillusionment began to multiply in his mind as to the
character of the Roman Church. He began to see what a corrupt and abominable
system it had become. While officiating at several masses in Rome, he tried to
maintain the dignity and reverence, which he felt this action required. But he
was very disturbed at the frivolous and totally irreverent manner in which the
Roman priests celebrated the sacrament of the altar.
D'Aubigne
relates: "One day when he was officiating he found that the priests at an
adjoining altar had already repeated seven masses before he had finished one.
'Quick, quick!' cried one of them, 'send our Lady back her Son;' making an
impious allusion to the transubstantiation of the bread into the body and blood
of Jesus Christ. At another time Luther had only just reached the Gospel, when
the priest at his side had already terminated the mass. 'Passa, passa!’ cried
the latter to him, 'make haste! have done with it at once’."
"His
astonishment was still greater, when he found in the dignitaries of the papacy
what he had already observed in the inferior clergy. He had hoped better things
of them" (History of the
Reformation, p. 68).
Returning
home, he pondered over the scenes of the pious pilgrims in Rome seeking
salvation through various endeavors. And he shuddered as he recalled the
frivolity, the moral wretchedness, and the lack of real spiritual knowledge in
that city — supposedly, "the capital of Christendom." The words of
Paul returned to him again — "the just shall live by faith." At last
he felt that he could understand them.
The Heart
of Luther's Theology
Fisher
relates Luther's feeling: "Through the Gospel that righteousness is
revealed which avails before God — by which He, out of grace and mere
compassion, justifies us through faith. Here I felt at once, he says, that
I was wholly born again and that I had entered through
open doors into Paradise itself. That passage of Paul was truly to me the gate
of Paradise. He saw that Christ is not come as a lawgiver, but as a Savior,
that love, not wrath or justice, is the motive in his mission and work; that
the forgiveness of sins through Him is a free gift; that the relationship of
the soul to Him, and through Him to the Father, which is expressed by the term faith, the responsive act of the soul to
the divine mercy, is all that
is required. This method of reconciliation is without the works of the
law" (The Reformation, p. 91).
Now
we see the central point of all Luther's theology. This doctrine of justification became the cornerstone of all of Luther's
subsequent religious efforts. It alone had provided him with
a sense
of release from his haunting
sense of guilt and fear
of damnation. And, we may truly add, it gave him a way around the requirements of God's spiritual law — which Luther felt he could not keep — and which he ultimately grew to hate.
It
is evident that in all this thinking about law, Luther was substituting the
Catholic idea of ritualistic “works" and penances for the Ten Commandments of God. Obsessed with the idea of getting around a need for any obedience,
he began to feel that faith alone is sufficient for salvation.
The
logical consequence of Luther's new position demanded a clash with Rome. It was
on the question of the sale of indulgences
that his direct opposition to orthodox Catholic doctrine was first made known.
The
Doctrine of Indulgences
After
his return from Rome, Luther had resumed his teaching career in the University
of Wittenberg, and continued in his study of the Scripture, and in the
development of his theory of justification and salvation. Through the
encouragement of his superior, Staupitz, he completed his work for his doctor's
degree so that he might replace Staupitz by assuming the chair of Bible at the
university. In 1512, he took the degree of Doctor of Divinity, and continued
his teaching career.
All
the while, his ideas on justification were growing and developing. He wrote:
"I greatly longed to understand Paul's Epistle to the Romans and nothing
stood in the way but that one expression, 'the justice of God,' because I took
it to mean that justice whereby God is just and deals justly in punishing the
unjust. My situation was that, although an impeccable monk, I stood before God
as a sinner troubled in conscience, and I had no confidence that my merit would
assuage him. Therefore I did not love a just and angry God, but rather hated and murmured against him. Yet I clung to the dear Paul and
had a great yearning to know what he meant" (Bainton, p. 49).
Notice
that Luther confessed that he hated
God in the form of Lawgiver and Judge. True enough, his false Catholic concept
of obedience confused him as to the real spiritual issues at stake. He was like
a man spiritually drunk — seeking his way out of an abyss.
But in his mental torment from Catholic teaching, he was also desperately
determined to find a way around
obedience, law, and justice.
Luther
wrote: "Night and day I pondered until I saw the connection between the
justice of God and the statement that 'the just shall live by his faith.' Then
I grasped that the justice of God is that righteousness by which through grace
and sheer mercy God justifies us through faith. Thereupon I felt myself to be
reborn and to have gone through open doors into paradise. The whole of
Scripture took on a new meaning, and whereas before the 'justice of God' had
filled me with hate, now it became to me inexpressibly sweet in greater love.
This passage of Paul became to me a gate to heaven. . ." (Bainton, p. 49).
Thus,
we can see that with the increasing stress Luther was putting on justification
by faith alone, the Romish practice
of selling indulgences for sin would
be particularly distasteful to him — and an abuse he would naturally want to
attack. Since the matter of indulgences
was the immediate cause of Luther's break with Rome, it will be particularly
helpful at this point to quote a scholarly description of this practice, and
the exact wording of the indulgences.
Description
of Indulgences
Wharey
states: "Indulgences, in the Romish church, are a remission of the
punishment due to sin, granted by the church, and supposed to save the sinner
from purgatory. According to the doctrine of the Romish church, all the good
works of the saints, over and above those that were necessary for their own
justification, are deposited, together with the infinite merits of Jesus
Christ, in an inexhaustible treasury. The keys of this were committed to St.
Peter and to his successors, the popes,
who may open it at pleasure; and, by transferring a portion of this
superabundant merit to any particular person for a sum of money, may convey to
him either the pardon of his own sins, or a release of anyone for whom he is
interested, from the pains of purgatory.
"Such
indulgences were first invented in the eleventh century, by Urban II, as a
recompense to those who went in person upon the glorious enterprise of
conquering the Holy Land. They were afterwards granted to anyone who hired a
soldier for that purpose; and, in process of time, were bestowed on such as
gave money for accomplishing any pious work enjoined by the pope. The power of
granting indulgences has been greatly abused in the Church of Rome. Pope Leo X,
in order to carry on the magnificent structure of St. Peter's at Rome,
published indulgences, and a plenary permission to all such as should
contribute money towards it. Finding the project take, he granted to Albert,
elector of Mentz, and archbishop of Magdeburg, the benefit of the indulgences
of Saxony, and the neighboring parts, and farmed out those of other countries
to the highest bidders; who, to make the best of their bargain, procured the
ablest preachers to cry up the values of the ware. The form of these
indulgences was as follows:
"May
our Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon thee, and absolve thee by the merits of
his most holy passion. And I, by his authority, that of his blessed apostles
Peter and Paul, and of the most holy pope, granted and committed to me in these
parts, do absolve thee, first from all ecclesiastical censures, in whatever
manner they have been incurred; then from all thy sins, transgressions, and
excesses, how enormous soever they may be; even from such as are reserved for
the cognizance of the holy see, and as far as the keys of the holy church
extend. I remit to you all punishment which you deserve in purgatory on their
account; and I restore you to the holy sacraments of the church, to the union
of the faithful, and to the innocence and purity which you possessed at
baptism; so that when you die, the gates of punishment shall be shut, and the
gates of paradise of delights shall be opened: and if you shall not die at
present, this grace shall remain in full force when you are at the point of
death. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost." (Church
History, p. 224-25.)
The
glowing descriptions, which the hawkers of indulgences gave of their benefit,
were sometimes almost incredible. If a man, they said, should purchase letters
of indulgence, his soul may rest assured of its salvation. "Lo," they
said, "the heavens are open; if you enter not now, when will you
enter?"
It
was the great abuse of this already abominable practice, which led Martin Luther
to take a definite stand against Rome. He was, of course, correct in opposing
this practice. Taking the stand he did, took courage. But, the question we wish
to consider is whether this led him to return to the "faith once
delivered,” or simply to reject that part of the Catholic teaching which he
could not agree with, and to set up in its place another purely human inspired ecclesiastical system
which suited him.
The
Indulgence for St. Peter's in Rome
In
Luther's vicinity, the proclamation of the indulgence to help rebuild St.
Peter's in Rome was entrusted to a Dominican, Tetzel, an experienced vendor.
The indulgence was not actually offered in Luther's parish, because the church
could not introduce an indulgence without the permission of the local authorities.
In this case, the elector, Frederick the Wise, would not give his consent
because he did not wish the indulgence of St. Peter's to encroach upon the
indulgences of All Saints' Church at Wittenberg (Bainton, p. 57).
But
Tetzel came so close that Luther's parishioners could go over the border and
return with some amazing concessions as a result of the high-pressure sales
campaign Tetzel and his fellow hawkers were conducting.
Luther
was righteously indignant at this shameless imposition of the Pope, and his
reformer's blood was roused. As the practice of the time, he drew up
ninety-five theses for debate and nailed them to the door of the Castle Church
at Wittenberg. This was on October 31, 1517.
Many
of Luther's theses appealed to the desperate financial straits of the German
peasants, and indirectly appealed to the papacy to stop exacting more money
from them. In his fiftieth proposition, Luther maintained: "Christians
must be taught that if the pope knew the exactions of the preachers of indulgences,
he would rather have St. Peter's basilica reduced to ashes, than built with the
skin, flesh, and bones of his sheep"
(Bettenson, Documents of the
Christian Church, p. 267).
In
the heated discussions that followed, Luther declared: "The revenues of all
Christendom are being sucked into this insatiable basilica. The Germans laugh
at calling this the common treasure of Christendom. Before long all the churches, palaces,
walls, and bridges of Rome will be built out of our money. First of all we should rear living temples,
not local churches, and only last of all St. Peter’s, which is not necessary
for us. We Germans cannot attend St.
Peter’s. Better that it should never be
built than that our parochial churches should be despoiled” (Bainton, p. 61).
Luther’s
political appeal to his fellow
Germans is evident in all the early writings on this subject. He does not argue from the spiritual
principle of what is right or wrong before God, but primarily from the nationalistic attitude that the money from
indulgences should be spent on German religious causes.
Luther’s
attack on the papal financial policy brought a ready agreement among the
Germans who had long suffered from a sense of grievance against the Italian hierarchy — as they often
regarded it. Luther’s other point, that
indulgences were spiritually harmful to the recipient, and that the pope has no
absolute power over purgatory or the forgiveness of sins, also stirred up
controversy.
Although
the average German was likely to fully understand only the demand for financial
relief, only Luther’s connection of this popular grievance with the idea of
blasphemy against the mercy of God would have the appeal to create a popular revolution.
Luther
took no steps to spread his theses among the people. But others quietly translated them into German and had them
printed. They soon became the talk of
all Germany, and Luther’s career as a reformer had been launched (Bainton, p.
62-63).
Luther’s
Final Break With Rome
When
Luther first posted his theses, he did not intend them for general
dissemination. But now that they had
been distributed, he stood by them in subsequent discussions and in tracts,
which he wrote in their defense.
Although news of these developments traveled slowly, it was not long
before the authorities in Rome knew that the greater part of Germany was taking
sides with Luther.
An
accusation was brought against Luther at Rome, and the pope commissioned
Cardinal Cajetan to represent him in talks with Luther. He was told to try to persuade Luther to
give up any radical ideas — and to handle the affair with as little disturbance
as possible (Hausser, p. 20).
This
he could not do, and Luther appealed from the pope ill informed to the same when
better informed. Thereupon a second
attempt was made to keep Luther within the Roman fold.
Carl
Von Militz, a papal nuncio, was able to win Luther’s confidence and make an
agreement for him to maintain silence — provided his enemies would also — until
papal representatives had been able to look into Luther’s new doctrines. “And then,” Luther said, “if I am convicted
of error, I shall willingly retract it, and not weaken the power and glory of
the holy Roman Church” (Hausser, p. 22).
We
notice that Luther still regarded the
Roman Church as “holy”! It is important
to realize how thoroughly steeped in
her philosophies and doctrines Luther actually was. True, he eventually came to sharply disagree on several
points. But to the very end, Martin
Luther — born and reared a Roman Catholic, and Catholic priest by profession —
was literally saturated with the
concepts, dogmas, and traditions which this church had accumulated through the
Middle Ages.
As
late as March 3, 1519, Luther wrote the Pope:
“Now, Most Holy Father, I protest before God and his creatures that it
has never been my purpose, nor is it now, to do ought that might weaken, or
overthrow the authority of the Roman Church or that of your Holiness; nay,
more, I confess that the power of this church is above all things; that nothing
in heaven or on earth is to be set before it, Jesus alone, the Lord of all,
excepted” (Alzog’s Universal History, p. 195).
Unless
he were lying in this letter, Martin Luther — even at this late date — felt
that the Roman Catholic religion was the true Church of God on earth!
Luther’s
Course of Action
But
his truce with Rome not to speak out was to be short-lived. Dr. John Eck, a theologian from Leipzig,
publicly challenged Luther to debate on his new doctrines (Hausser, p.
22). So the battle of words and
pamphlets revived.
In
the debates, Luther, as he always did, confused justification and salvation. He maintained that faith alone — without any works — suffices for
salvation. When confronted with
conflicting statements from the Epistle of James, he called in question
the authenticity of the epistle
(Alzog, p. 196).
It
is important to realize that not once, but many
times, Luther would challenge the
authority of any book in the Bible, which seemed to disagree with his ideas
on justification. We will
discuss Luther’s contradictory statements on Scripture in a later chapter.
After the Leipzig debates, Dr. Eck set out
for Rome to warn Pope Leo X of the danger Luther was becoming to the Catholic
Church in Germany. A papal bull was
issued in 1520 condemning Luther and forty-one of his propositions. He himself was to be excommunicated if he
did not retract within sixty days (Alzog,
p. 203).
Final
Break with Rome
Because of Luther’s popularity with both the
common people and the nobility, the papal bull was received with open
repugnance in Germany. Many declared
that it was not necessary to obey it and Luther’s protector, Frederick the
Wise, openly disclaimed obedience to the bull.
So Luther then took the unheard of step of publicly burning the papal
bull in the presence of his fellow monks, the students, and the citizens of
Wittenberg (Hausser, p. 27).
This
bold step of making a complete break with Rome drew the attention of the entire
German nation to Luther’s cause. He
quickly found political support in the friendly disposition of
the elector and of the jurists who had a long-standing grievance over the
interference of ecclesiastical courts in civil affairs. He also found ready allies in the humanist
scholars who were filled with nationalistic fervor and were ready to avenge the
indignities suffered by Germany under Italian and papal rule. They were ready to write with invective and
satire — and also to use their swords (Fisher, The Reformation, p. 102).
Soon
after these events, Luther made a political
appeal to the German nobility for
their backing. His challenge to the "glorious Teutonic people" who
were "born to be masters" had an electrifying effect on many of the
German nobles and princes. But it was purely political, and this same type of appeal has more recently been used
with success by German generals and dictators!
Luther
urged: ". . . Poor Germans that we are — we have been deceived! We were
born to be masters, and we have been compelled to bow the head beneath the yoke
of our tyrants, and to become slaves. Name, title, outward signs of royalty, we
possess all these; force, power, right, liberty, all these have gone over to
the popes, who have robbed us of them. They get the kernel, we get the husk. . .
. It is time the glorious Teutonic people should cease to be the puppet of the
Roman pontiff" (Bettenson, Documents
of the Christian Church, p. 278).
From
here on, it remained for Luther and his adherents to attempt to found a new religious
system, embracing the doctrines
flowing from Luther's active pen. In future chapters, we will see if Luther's
system constituted a return to the faith,
doctrine, and practice of Christ and the Apostolic Church.