In January 1546 Martin Luther set out on what was to be his last major journey, to Mansfield, where he had been brought up. He went in the hope of reconciling two brothers who were involved in a bitter quarrel. He was successful and then moved on the short distance to Eisleben, where he had been born. There he preached his last sermon and, just a few days later, on February 18, he passed into eternity, aged 62. He had come to the end of a nearly-30-year ministry during which he had given himself to studying the Word, preaching the gospel, lecturing to students and opposing error.
After his death, someone found in one of Luther’s pockets the beginning of a work he had hoped to write against Roman Catholicism. Clearly, as he approached his end, Luther was still conscious of the danger of various teachings that the Church authorities claimed to be orthodox, yet were false. They were contrary to the Word of God, which is truth from beginning to end and therefore perfectly reliable. He had seen the danger of relying on one’s good works, when the Scriptures teach that “all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags” (Is 64:6). What we would consider our righteous deeds are, in fact, polluted because our best actions are imperfect, for they are stained by sin; they are not done from a heart that seeks the glory of God with absolute consistency. Luther had learned that God’s standard is absolute perfection, a standard he could never attain by his own efforts. He knew from his own difficult experience that no one can find rest for his soul without looking by faith to Christ and His righteousness alone, apart from works.
Further, our righteousnesses are no better than rags; they do not cover us properly – far from it. We need a proper covering, one that will actually cover our spiritual nakedness completely – and that is the righteousness of Christ, the “wedding garment” that God Himself provides. So we are to be altogether dissatisfied with our own rags as a spiritual covering and go to Him for the garment that will make it possible for us to come at last to the marriage supper of the Lamb. This “wedding garment” pictures for us acceptance with God, and accordingly points us to justification, through which sinners have all their sins pardoned and are accepted “as righteous in [God’s]
sight, only for the righteousness of Christ imputed to [them], and received by faith alone” (The Shorter Catechism, Ans 33).
Justification by faith alone is the doctrine commonly associated with Luther. It was to proclaim this teaching of Scripture that he was particularly raised up by God at the beginning of the Reformation. He fought for it by word and by pen, even although he had as a motto: “Peace if possible, truth at all costs”. Again and again, he had taken up his pen to promote the truth of justification by faith alone in the face of a contrary and dangerous doctrine upheld by all the power of a system which had long since departed drastically from the pure truths of God’s Word. And today, whatever superficial changes there have been in Roman Catholic teaching, the decrees of the Council of Trent still remain in place, with all their terrible anathemas. So there is a continuing need to oppose Roman teaching and keep a firm hold of the contrary teachings of Scripture – not least, the doctrine of justification by faith alone.
In another of Luther’s pockets there was a slip of paper with the words, “We are beggars; that is the truth”. As one in whom the Holy Spirit was working, he well knew that he had no spiritual resources of his own to depend on; so he had to keep going to God, for the sake of Christ, to beg for the supply of all his needs, both spiritual and temporal. In particular, he had to beg for grace and for strength to carry out all the varied responsibilities that fell on his shoulders. One can imagine him often taking comfort from the assurance Paul gave to the believers in Philippi: “My God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus” (Phil 4:19) – and, as it is recorded in Scripture, this is an assurance to all believers everywhere in every generation.
Even at the end of his life, Luther knew that he must still come before God as a beggar. He still had nothing in himself on which he could base a claim that he had a right before God to any blessing – whether he had a particular consciousness of his need for pardon, for acceptance with God, for holiness, for God’s care, for His help in some unusually-difficult situation, or for anything else. But he could come as a beggar, acknowledging God’s willingness to hear the cry of His children and trusting also in His infinite resources and power.
The pleas of beggars to their fellow human beings are often refused, but Luther knew that the Most High will not turn away the cry of spiritual beggars; He will not turn away the cry of those who are “poor in spirit” – who confess from their hearts that they can contribute nothing to their salvation and that what they deserve is endless punishment for their sins. Such people can stand alongside the publican that Jesus spoke about; they too say, “God be merciful to me a sinner”. They know something of the meaning of the words, mercy and grace – words which feel appropriate to those who have deep spiritual needs and can contribute nothing to supplying these needs. But they realise that the exalted Saviour has infinite resources and encourages sinners to beg that their needs would be supplied from “His riches in glory”. Even at the end of his days, Luther considered himself no better than a beggar, emphasising to himself that what he was saying was true.
As life was ebbing from his body, Luther was heard to repeat the words of John 3:16 several times: “God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life”. Spiritually Luther was a beggar; he knew that was true and he acted accordingly. Ever since he had first looked by faith to the only begotten Son of God, he knew that there was always One to whom he could go and beg, safe in the knowledge that all his real needs would be supplied.
And now, with his soul about to slip away into eternity, he was taking further believing looks at the Rock on which his soul had been resting for so many years. As he did so, Luther was no doubt taking comfort from that sure promise, “Whosoever believeth in Him [shall] not perish, but have everlasting life”. He was no longer able to study the Bible or lecture on it or preach the gospel or write books or engage in controversy, but as he thought on the needs of his own soul, his mind was focused on the sure Foundation that has been laid in Zion for needy sinners, whatever stage in life’s journey they may have reached.
Of course, Luther was by no means perfect. Others were to follow after who were to have a more accurate grasp of the teachings of Scripture, but they had that grasp because they were standing on Luther’s shoulders. As a result, they were seeing further and more clearly into the land of sound doctrine than would otherwise have been the case. He was raised up as an instrument in God’s hand to begin a wonderful work which benefited much of Europe at the time of the Reformation.
It is rather unlikely that any of us will ever have such opportunities for doing good as he did. Yet however limited their sphere of influence, all believers have opportunities, repeated opportunities, to “come boldly unto the throne of grace” to pray for the spread of the gospel throughout the world, and to plead that the Lord would pour out His Spirit in so great a measure that multitudes everywhere would be converted.
Death lies before us all. We cannot tell how near it may be. Surely then we should be seeking earnestly to turn away from all false ideas and to draw near to the Lord as beggars on the basis of His merciful, infinite provision in Christ for those who have no resources of their own.