At university, Martin Luther began to study the masterpieces of antiquity, the writings of Cicero, Virgil and other classical authors. He endeavoured to fathom their thoughts, to imbibe the spirit which animated them, to appropriate their wisdom to himself. He soon outstripped all his fellow students. Blessed with a retentive memory and a strong imagination, all that he read or heard remained constantly present to his mind; it was as if he had seen it himself. “The whole university”, says Melancthon, “admired his genius.” But the young man of 18 did not study merely to cultivate his intellect; he was conscious of his entire dependence upon God. He fervently invoked God’s blessing on his labours. Every morning he began the day with prayer; he then went to church, and afterwards applied himself to his studies, losing not a moment in the whole course of the day.
The young student spent in the university library all the time that he could snatch from his academic pursuits. Books were as yet rare, and it was a great privilege for him to profit by the treasures brought together in this vast collection. One day – he had then been two years at Erfurt and was 20 years old – he opened many books in the library one after another, to learn their writers’ names. One volume attracted his attention. It was a Bible, a rare book. He was filled with astonishment at finding more than those fragments of the Gospels and Epistles that the Church had selected to be read to the people during public worship every Sabbath throughout the year. Until that day he had imagined that they composed the whole Word of God. With eagerness and indescribable emotion he turned over these pages from God.
The first page on which he fixed his attention narrated the story of Hannah and of young Samuel. He read, and his soul could hardly contain the joy he felt – this child whom his parents lent to the Lord; the song of Hannah, in which she declared that Jehovah “raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the beggar from the dunghill, to set them among princes”; this child, who grew up in the temple in the presence of the Lord; those sacrificers, the sons of Eli, who were wicked men, who lived in debauchery, and made “the Lord’s people to transgress” – all this revelation, that he had just discovered, excited new feelings. “O that God would give me such a book for myself”, he said to himself.
Luther was as yet ignorant both of Greek and Hebrew. It is scarcely probable that he had studied these languages during his first two or three years at university. The Bible that he was reading was in Latin. He soon returned to the library to pore over his treasure. He read it again and again. The first glimmerings of new truth were then beginning to dawn on his mind. In the same year, Luther took his bachelor’s degree.
There followed a dangerous illness. Death seemed to be approaching: serious reflections occupied his mind. “It is a pity”, many thought, “to see so many expectations so early blighted.” When Luther recovered, there was a great change in him. The Bible and his illness seem to have made a new appeal to him, but as yet there was nothing decided in his mind. Another circumstance awakened serious thoughts. Probably in 1503 Luther was going to pass a short time with his family; he wore a sword according to the custom of the age. He struck against it with his foot; the blade fell out and cut one of the main arteries. Luther, seeing the blood flowing copiously and unable to check it, felt the approach of death and cried out, “O Mary, help me!”
“At that time,” he said in after years, “I should have died relying on Mary.” Before long he abandoned that superstition and invoked a more powerful Saviour. He continued his studies. In 1505 he graduated MA and Doctor of Philosophy. The University of Erfurt was then the most celebrated in all Germany. A torchlight procession came to pay honour to Luther. Perhaps encouraged by these honours, Luther felt inclined to apply himself entirely to law, as his father wished.
But the will of God was different. While Luther was occupied with various studies, and beginning to teach some philosophy courses, his heart kept warning him that religion was the one thing needful and that above all things he should secure his salvation. He knew God’s displeasure against sin; he called to mind the penalties that His Word denounces against the sinner; he asked himself, with apprehension, whether he was sure of having God’s favour. His conscience answered, No. He resolved to do all that might ensure him a firm hope of immortality. Two events occurred, one after the other, to disturb his soul. One morning he heard a report that a friend had been assassinated. This sudden loss of his friend agitated him, and he asked himself: What would become of me, if I were thus called away without warning? His mind was filled with the keenest terrors.
In the summer of 1505 Luther went to Mansfeld, during the university vacation, to visit his parents. On his return, he had almost reached Erfurt, when he was overtaken by a violent storm. A bolt of lightning flashed near him and he threw himself on his knees. Death, the judgement and eternity seemed to summon him with all their terrors. “Encompassed with the anguish and terror of death,” as he said himself, he made a vow: if the Lord would deliver him from this danger, he would abandon the world and devote himself entirely to God. After rising from the ground, with the thought still before him that death must one day overtake him, he examined himself seriously and considered what he ought to do. The thoughts that once agitated him returned with greater force. He had tried to fulfil all his duties, but what was the state of his soul? Could he appear before the tribunal of a terrible God with an impure heart? He must become holy. He now had as great a thirst for holiness as he formerly had for knowledge.
But how can he attain it? Who shall quench the fire that consumes him? He will enter a cloister, he has decided; monastic life will save him. He has often heard of its power to transform the heart, sanctify the sinner and make man perfect. He will become holy there; he will thus secure eternal life.
This changed Luther’s whole life. One of Luther’s friends at the University of Erfurt later wrote to him: “Divine providence saw what you were to become one day when, returning from your parents, the fire from heaven threw you to the ground, like another Paul, near the city of Erfurt, and withdrawing you from our society, drove you into the Augustinian order”. Luther’s resolution was now unalterable. Still it was not without a pang that he prepared to break the ties so dear to him. He told no one about his intention. But one evening he invited his university friends to a cheerful but frugal supper. It was Luther’s farewell to the world. Henceforth, instead of these amiable companions of his pleasures and his studies, he will have monks; instead of witty conversation the silence of the cloister. God was calling him, he believed, and he must sacrifice everything. Yet, for the last time, he would share in the joys of his youth! Luther himself was the soul of the party.
Yet the young man could no longer control the serious thoughts that filled his mind. He made known his intention to his astonished friends. They endeavoured to shake it, but in vain. That very night Luther left his lodgings, leaving behind all his clothes and books, except an epic poem and comedies in Latin – a striking picture of Luther’s mind! In the darkness of night, he reached alone the monastery of the hermits of Augustine. He asked for admittance. The gate opened and closed again. He was, he believed, separated for ever from his parents, from the companions of his studies, and from the world! It was 17 August 1505. Luther was then 21 years old.
Luther was, he assumed, with God at last. His soul was safe. He was now about to find the holiness he so much desired. The monks were astonished at the sight of the youthful doctor, and extolled his courage and his contempt of the world. His friends at Erfurt were astonished. Must so eminent a genius hide himself in that monastic state, a partial death? They hurried to the monastery, in the hope of inducing Luther to return, but all was useless. For two whole days they surrounded the building, in the hope of seeing Luther come forth. But the gates remained barred. A month elapsed without anyone being able to see or speak to the new monk.
Luther had also communicated to his parents the great change in his life. His father was amazed. He trembled for his son, as Luther himself tells us in the dedication of his work on monastic vows. Martin’s weakness, his youth, the violence of his passions, all led John Luther to fear that, when the first moment of enthusiasm was over, the idle habits of the cloister would make the young man fall either into despair or into some great sin. He knew that this kind of life had already destroyed many. Besides, all his ambitious projects were overthrown in one night by this imprudent step. John wrote a very angry letter to his son disinheriting him from his affection. In vain did his father’s friends endeavour to soften him.
Some time afterwards, when Martin, who by then had been reconciled to his father, related to him the event that had induced him to enter a monastic order. “God grant”, replied the father, “that you may not have taken for a sign from heaven what was merely a delusion of the devil.”
October 2017 marks the five-hundredth anniversary of the European Reformation – specifically Luther’s action in nailing his 95 theses to the door of Wittenberg church. Accordingly a series of abridged extracts from J H Merle d’Aubigné’s The History of the Reformation in the Sixteenth Century is planned. This – from volume 1 – is the first.
In His death [Christ] hangs like a malefactor upon the cross, but as Jehovah He bestows paradise upon the dying robber.
[Jesus Christ] has borne the curse of the law and perfectly obeyed all its precepts. All His obedience becomes ours by believing the testimony of the Father concerning His Son and trusting in Him. The most guilty child of Adam, whether he be Jew or Gentile, becomes perfectly righteous the moment he believes in the work of Christ. This glorious plan of salvation vindicates the law, exalts the character of God, and reconciles mercy with justice.
Robert Haldane