CHAPTER X

Decisive steps by the Reformer—Luther’s Appeal to a General Council—Struggle at close quarters—The Bull burned by Luther—Meaning of this bold act—Luther in the Academic Chair—Luther against the Pope—New Work by Melancthon—How Luther encourages his Friends—Progress of the Contest—Melancthon’s Opinion of the timid—Luther’s Work on the Bible—Doctrine of Grace—Luther’s Recantation. But duty obliged him to speak, in order to manifest the truth to the world. Rome has struck, and he will make it known how he receives the blow. The pope has put him under the ban of the Church, and he will put the pope under the ban of Christendom. Up to this hour the pope’s word has been omnipotent. Luther will oppose word to word, and the world will know which is the more powerful of the two. “I am desirous,” said he, “to set my conscience at rest, by making men aware of the danger to which they are exposed.” At the same time he prepares to renew his appeal to an universal council. An appeal from the pope to a council was a crime, and hence the mode in which Luther attempts to justify himself is a new act of hostility to papal authority. On the morning of the 17th November, a notary and five witnesses, of whom Cruciger was one, met at ten o’clock, in one of the halls of the Augustin convent in which the doctor resided. There the public officer, Sarctor of Eisleben, having seated himself to draw up the minute of his protest, the Reformer, in presence of the witnesses, says, with a solemn tone:

“Considering that a general Council of the Christian Church is above the pope, especially in all that concerns the faith;

“Considering that the power of the pope is not above, but beneath Scripture, and that he has no right to worry the sheep of Christ, and throw them into the wolf’s mouth:

“I, Martin Luther, Augustin, doctor of the Holy Scriptures at Wittemberg, do, by this writing, appeal for myself, and for all who shall adhere to me, from the most holy Pope Leo, to a future universal Christian Council.

“I appeal from the said Pope Leo, first, as an unjust, rash, tyrannical judge, who condemns me without hearing me, and without explaining the grounds of his judgment; secondly, as a heretic, a strayed, obdurate apostate, condemned by the Holy Scriptures, inasmuch as he ordains me to deny that Christian faith is necessary in the use of the sacraments; thirdly, as an enemy, an antichrist, an adversary, a tyrant of the Holy Scripture, who dares to oppose his own words to all the words of God; fourthly, as a despiser, a calumniator, a blasphemer of the holy Christian Church and a free Council, inasmuch as he pretends that a Council is nothing in itself.

“Wherefore, I most humbly supplicate the most serene, most illustrious, excellent, generous, noble, brave, sage, and prudent lords, Charles, the Roman emperor, the electors, princes, counts, barons, knights, gentlemen, counsellors, towns, and commonalties, throughout Germany, to adhere to my protestation, and join me in resisting the antichristian conduct of the pope, for the glory of God, the defence of the Church, and of Christian doctrine, and the maintenance of free councils in Christendom. Let them do so, and Christ our Lord will richly recompence them by his eternal grace. But if there are any who despise my prayer, and continue to obey that impious man, the pope, rather than God, I, by these presents, shake myself free of the responsibility. Having faithfully warned their consciences, I leave them, as well as the pope, and all his adherents, to the sovereign judgment of God.”

Such is Luther’s deed of divorce, such his answer to the papal bull. There is great seriousness in this declaration. The accusations which he brings against the pope are very grave, and are not made in a spirit of levity. This protestation spread over Germany, and was sent to the leading courts of Christendom.

Though the step which Luther had just taken seemed the very height of daring, he had a still bolder step in reserve. The monk of Wittemberg will do all that the pope dares to do. The son of the Medicis, and the son of the miner of Mansfeld, have descended into the lists, and in this mortal struggle, which shakes the world, not a blow is given by the one which is not returned by the other. On the 10th December, a notice appeared on the walls of Wittemberg, inviting the professors and students to meet at nine oʹclock in the morning, at the east gate, near the holy cross. A great number of teachers and pupils assembled, and Luther, walking at their head, led the procession to the appointed spot. How many faggot piles has Rome kindled in the course of ages! Luther desires to make a better application of the great Roman principle. He only wishes to rid himself of some old papers, and the fire, he thinks, is the fit instrument for that. A scaffold had been prepared. One of the oldest masters of arts applied the torch. At the moment when the flames rose, the redoubted Augustin, dressed in his frock, was seen to approach the pile, holding in his hands the Canon Law, the Decretals, the Clementines, the Extravagants of the popes, some writings of Eck and Emser, and the papal bull. The Decretals having first been consumed, Luther held up the bull, and saying, “Since thou hast grieved the Lord’s Anointed, let the eternal fire grieve and consume thee,” threw it into the flames. Never was war declared with more energy and resolution. Luther quietly took the road back to the town, and the crowd of doctors, professors, and students, after a loud cheer, returned with him to Wittemberg. “The Decretals,” said Luther, “resemble a body with a head as soft as that of a maiden, limbs as full of violence as those of a lion, and a tail with as many wiles as a serpent. In all the papal laws, there is not one word to teach us who Jesus Christ is. My enemies,” continues he, “have been able, by burning my books, to injure the truth in the minds of the common people, and therefore I have burnt their books in my turn. A serious struggle has now commenced. Hitherto I have only had child’s play with the pope. I began the work in the name of God; it will be terminated without me and by his power. If they burn my books, in which, to speak without vain-glory, there is more of the gospel than in all the books of the pope, I am entitled, a fortiori, to burn theirs, in which there is nothing good.” Had Luther commenced the Reformation in this way, such a proceeding would doubtless have led to fatal results. Fanaticism would have been able to lay hold of it, and throw the Church into a course of disorder and violence. But the Reformer’s grave exposition of Scripture had formed a prelude to his work. The foundations had been wisely laid, and now the mighty stroke which he had just given would not only expose him to no hazard, but even accelerate the hour when Christendom would be delivered from her chains.

Thus solemnly did Luther declare his separation from the pope and his church. After his letter to Leo he might think this necessary. He accepted the excommunication which Rome had pronounced. It made the Christian world aware that there was now mortal war beween him and the pope. On reaching the shore, he burnt his ships, and left himself no alternative but that of advancing to the combat.

Luther had returned to Wittemberg. Next day the academic hall was fuller than usual. Men’s minds were excited. A feeling of solemnity prevailed throughout the audience, in expectation of an address from the doctor. He commented on the Psalms, a task which he had commenced in March of the previous year. Having finished his lecture, he paused a few moments, and then said firmly, “Be on your guard against the laws and statutes of the pope. I have burned the Decretals, but it is only child’s play. It is time, and more than time, to burn the pope. I mean, he instantly resumed, the see of Rome, with all its doctrines and abominations.” Then, assuming a more solemn tone, he said, “If you do not, with all your heart, combat the impious government of the pope, you cannot be saved. Whoever takes pleasure in the religion and worship of the papacy will be eternally lost in the life to come.”

“If we reject it,” added he, “we may expect all kinds of dangers and even the loss of life. But it is far better to run such risks in the world than to be silent! As long as I live I will warn my brethren of the sore and plague of Babylon, lest several who are with us fall back with the others into the abyss of hell.”

It is scarcely possible to imagine the effect produced upon the audience by language, the energy of which still makes us wonder. “None of us,” adds the candid student to whom we owe the fact, “at least, if he be not a block without intelligence, (‘as,’ adds he in a parenthesis, ‘all the papists are,’)—none of us doubts that it contains the simple truth. It is evident to all the faithful, that Dr. Luther is an angel of the living God, called to feed the long bewildered sheep of Christ with the divine Word.” This discourse, and the act which crowned it, mark an important epoch in the Reformation. The Leipsic discussion had detached Luther inwardly from the pope. But the moment when he burned the bull was that in which he declared, in the most expressive manner, his entire separation from the bishop of Rome and his church, and his attachment to the Church universal, as founded by the apostles of Jesus Christ. After three centuries the fire which he kindled at the East gate is still burning.

“The pope,” said he, “has three crowns, and they are these: the first is against God, for he condemns religion,—the second against the emperor, for he condemns the secular power,—and the third against society, for he condemns marriage.” When he was reproached with inveighing too violently against the papacy, he replied, “Ah! I wish every thing I testify against him were a clap of thunder, and every one of my words were a thunderbolt.”³ This firmness of Luther was communicated to his friends and countrymen. A whole nation rallied round him. The university of Wittemberg in particular always became more attached to the hero to whom it owed its importance and renown. Carlstadt raised his voice against “the raging lion of Florence,” who tore divine and human laws to pieces, and trampled under foot the principles of eternal truth. At this time Melancthon also addressed the States of the empire in a writing characterised by his usual elegance and wisdom. It was a reply to a treatise attributed to Emser, but published under the name of Rhadinus, a Roman theologian. Luther himself spoke not more forcibly, and yet there is a grace in Melancthon’s words which gives them access to the heart.

After showing, by passages of Scripture, that the pope is not superior to other bishops; “What prevents us,” says he to the States of the empire, “from depriving the pope of the privilege which we have given him? It matters little to Luther that our riches, i.e. the treasures of Europe, are sent to Rome. But what causes his grief and ours is, that the laws of the pontiffs, and the reign of the pope, not only endanger the souls of men but utterly destroy them. Every man can judge for himself, whether or not it suits him to give his money for the maintenance of Roman luxury, but to judge of the things of religion, and of sacred mysteries, is beyond the reach of the vulgar. Here, then, Luther implores your faith and zeal, and all pious men implore with him, some with loud voice and others with groans and sighs. Remember, princes of the Christian people, that you are Christians, and rescue the sad wrecks of Christianity from the tyranny of Antichrist. You are deceived by those who pretend that you have no authority over priests. The same spirit which animated Jehu against the priests of Baal urges you, in imitation of that ancient example, to abolish the Roman superstition—a superstition far more horrible than the idolatry of Baal.” So spoke mild Melancthon to the princes of Germany.

Some cries of alarm were heard among the friends of the Reformation. Timid spirits inclined to excessive moderation—Staupitz in particular, expressed the keenest anguish. “Till now,” said Luther to him, “the whole affair has been mere sport. You yourself have said, ‘did God not do these things it is impossible they could by done.’ The tumult becomes more and more tumultuous! and I do not think it will be quelled before the last day.” Such was Luther’s mode of encouraging the timid. The tumult has existed for three centuries and is not quelled!

“The papacy,” continued he, “is not now what it was yesterday and the day before. Let it excommunicate and burn my writings; … let it kill me! it cannot arrest what is going forward. Something wonderful is at the door. I burnt the bull in great trembling, but now I experience more joy from it than from any action of my life.”⁴

We stop involuntarily and delight to read in the great soul of Luther all that the future is preparing. “O! my father,” says he to Staupitz in concluding, “pray for the word of God and for me. I am heaved on the billows, and as it were whirled upon them.”

War is thus declared on all sides. The combatants have thrown away their scabbards. The Word of God has resumed its rights, and deposes him who had gone the length of usurping God’s place. Society is shaken throughout. No period is without egotistical men, who would willingly leave human society in error and corruption, but wise men, even the timid among them, think differently. “We know well,” says the mild and moderate Melancthon, “that statesmen have a horror at every thing like innovation; and it must be confessed, that in the sad confusion called human life, discord, even that which arises from the best of causes, is always accompanied with evil. Still it is necessary that in the Church the Word of God take precedence of every thing human. God denounces eternal wrath against those who strive to extinguish the truth; and therefore, it was a duty incumbent on Luther—a Christian duty which he could not evade—to rebuke the pernicious errors which disorderly men were circulating with inconceivable effrontery. If discord engenders many evils, (to my great grief I see it does, adds sage Philip,) it is the fault of those who at the beginning circulated errors, and of those who, filled with diabolic hatred, are seeking at present to maintain them.”

All, however, were not of the same opinion. Luther was loaded with reproaches; the storm burst upon him from all sides. “He is quite alone,” said some—“He teaches novelties,” said others.

“Who knows,” replied Luther, in accordance with the virtue given him from on high,—“who knows if God has not chosen me, and called me, and if they ought not to fear that in despising me they may be despising God himself?… Moses was alone on coming out of Egypt—Elijah alone in the time of King Ahab—Isaiah alone in Jerusalem—Ezekiel alone at Babylon.… God never chose for a prophet either the high priest or any other great personage. He usually chose persons who were low and despised,—on one occasion he even chose a shepherd, (Amos). At all times the saints have had to rebuke the great—kings, princes, priests, the learned—at the risk of their lives. And under the New Dispensation has it not been the same? Ambrose in his day was alone; after him Jerome was alone; later still Augustine was alone.… I do not say that I am a prophet,³ but I say they ought to fear just because I am alone and they are many. One thing I am sure of—the Word of God is with me and is not with them.

“It is said also,” continues he, “that I advance novelties, and that it is impossible to believe that all other doctors have for so long a period been mistaken.

“No, I do not preach novelties. But I say that all Christian doctrines have disappeared, even among those who ought to have preserved them; I mean bishops and the learned. I doubt not, however, that the truth has remained in some hearts, should it even have been in infants in the cradle. Poor peasants, mere babes, now understand Jesus Christ better than the pope, the bishops, and the doctors.

“I am accused of rejecting the holy doctors of the Church. I reject them not: but since all those doctors try to prove their writings by Holy Scripture, it must be clearer and more certain than they are. Who thinks of proving an obscure discourse by one still more obscure? Thus, then, necessity constrains us to recur to the Bible, as all the doctors do, and to ask it to decide upon their writings; for the Bible is lord and master.

“But it is said men in power persecute him. And is it not clear from Scripture that persecutors are usually in the wrong, and the persecuted in the right; that the majority are always in favour of falsehood, and the minority in favour of truth? The truth has, at all times, caused clamour.”

Luther afterwards reviews the propositions condemned in the bull as heretical, and demonstrates their truth, by proofs drawn from Holy Scripture. With what force, in particular, does he now maintain the doctrine of grace!

“What,” says he, “will nature be able, before and without grace, to hate sin, avoid it, and repent of it; while that, even since grace is come, this nature loves sin, seeks it, desires it, and ceases not to combat grace, and to be irritated against it; a fact for which all the saints continually do groan!… It is as if it were said that a large tree, which I am unable to bend by exerting my utmost strength, bends of itself on my letting it go; or that a torrent, which walls and dykes cannot arrest, is arrested the instant I leave it to itself.… No, it is not by considering sin and its consequences that we attain to repentance, but by contemplating Jesus Christ, his wounds, and boundless love. The knowledge of sin must result from repentance, and not repentance from the knowledge of sin. Knowledge is the fruit, repentance is the tree. With us the fruit grows upon the tree, but it would seem that, in the states of the holy father, the tree grows upon the fruit.” The courageous doctor, though he protests, also retracts some of his propositions. Surprise will cease when his mode of doing it is known. After quoting the four propositions on indulgences, condemned by the bull, he simply adds,

“In honour of the holy and learned bull I retract all that I have ever taught touching indulgences. If my books have been justly burned, it must certainly be because I conceded something to the pope in the doctrine of indulgences; wherefore, I myself condemn them to the fire.”

He also retracts in regard to John Huss. “I say now, not that some articles, but all the articles of John Huss, are Christian throughout. The pope, in condemning Huss, condemned the gospel. I have done five times more than he, and yet I much fear have not done enough. Huss merely says, that a wicked pope is not a member of Christendom; but I, were St. Peter himself sitting to-day at Rome, would deny that he was pope by the appointment of God.”