19. Ready to Face the Pope’s Representative
J H Merle d’Aubigné
No doubt, in the midst of the biblical labours to which he devoted himself with fresh zeal, Luther sometimes forgot Rome and the ecclesiastical court before which he was to appear. Yet his thoughts always returned to that formidable tribunal before which his implacable enemies had summoned him. With what terror would such thoughts have filled a soul whose object had been anything else than the truth! But Luther did not tremble; confident in the faithfulness and power of God, he remained firm and was ready to expose himself alone to the anger of enemies more terrible than those who had kindled John Hus’s pile.
This is a further abridged extract from d’Aubigné’s The History of the Reformation in the Sixteenth Century, vol 1, continued from last month. That article told of Philip Melanchthon’s background and him joining Luther in Wittenberg.
Hus was a reformer from before the Reformation, who had great influence for good in Prague and was sent to be burnt at the stake by the Council of Constance in 1415.
A few days after Melanchthon arrived, and before the decision of the Pope to transfer Luther’s place of trial from Rome to Augsburg could be known, Luther wrote thus to Spalatin: “I do not require that our sovereign should do the least thing in defence of my theses; I am willing to be given up and thrown into the hands of my adversaries. Let him permit all the storm to burst upon me. What I have undertaken to defend, I hope to be able to maintain, with the help of Christ. As for violence, we must yield to that, but without abandoning the truth.”
Luther’s courage was infectious: the mildest and most timid men beheld the danger that threatened this witness to the truth, and found language full of energy and indignation. The peace-loving Staupitz wrote to Spalatin in September 1518: “Do not cease to exhort the prince, your master and mine, not to allow himself to be frightened by the roaring of the lions. Let him defend the truth, without anxiety either about Luther, Staupitz, or the order. Let there be one place at least where men may speak freely and without fear. I know that the plague of Babylon, I was nearly saying, of Rome, is let loose against whoever attacks the abuses of those who sell Jesus Christ. I have myself seen a preacher thrown from the pulpit for teaching the truth; I saw him, although it was a festival, bound and dragged to prison. Others have witnessed still more cruel sights.”
At last the order to appear before the cardinal-legate at Augsburg arrived. Luther now had to deal with one of the princes of the Roman Church. All his friends entreated him not to set out. They feared that even during the journey snares might be laid for his life. Some busied themselves in finding a place of refuge for him. Staupitz was moved at the thought of the dangers to which Luther would be exposed. He would do everything in his power to save him. Accordingly he wrote from Salzburg: “It appears to me that the whole world is enraged and combined against the truth. The crucified Jesus was hated in like manner. I do not see that you have anything else to expect but persecution. Before long no one will be able, without the pope’s permission, to search the Scriptures and look there for Jesus Christ, which Jesus Christ commands. You have but few friends; I would to God that fear of your adversaries did not prevent those few from declaring themselves in your favour! The wisest course is for you to abandon Wittenberg for a time and come to me. Then we shall live and die together.”
From different quarters Luther received the most alarming news. Count Albert of Mansfeld bade him beware of undertaking the journey, for several powerful lords had sworn to seize him and strangle him or drown him. But nothing could frighten Luther. He had no intention of profiting by Staupitz’s offer; he would not go and conceal himself in the obscurity of a monastery at Salzburg; he would remain on that stormy scene where God had placed him. It is by persevering in despite of his adversaries, by proclaiming the truth aloud in the midst of the world, that the truth advances. Why then should he flee? This expression of the Master, whom he desires to serve and whom he loves more than life, re-echoes incessantly in his heart: “Whosoever . . . shall confess Me before men, him will I confess also before My Father which is in heaven”.
We always find in Luther and in the Reformation this intrepid courage, this exalted morality, this infinite charity, which the first advent of Christianity had already made known to the world. “I am like Jeremiah,” says Luther at this time, “a man of strife and contention; but the more their threats increase, the more my joy is multiplied. My wife and my children are well provided for; my fields, my houses and my goods are in order. They have already destroyed my honour and my reputation. One single thing remains; it is my wretched body; let them take it; they will thus shorten my life by a few hours. But as for my soul, they cannot take that. He who desires to proclaim the Word of Christ to the world must expect death at every moment.”
The Elector was then at Augsburg. Shortly before quitting the diet in that city, he had paid the legate a visit. The cardinal, highly flattered with this visit promised Frederick that, if Luther appeared before him, he would listen to him in a fatherly manner and dismiss him kindly. The prince ordered a friend to tell Luther that the Pope had appointed a commission to hear him in Germany, that the Elector would not permit Luther to be dragged to Rome, and that he must travel to Augsburg. Luther resolved to obey.
What must have been his feelings as he left Wittenberg for Augsburg, where the Pope’s legate awaited him? Perhaps he was going to his death. But his faith was not a mere outward show; it was a reality. Hence it gave him peace and he could advance without fear, in the name of the Lord of hosts, to bear his testimony to the gospel. He arrived at Weimar on September 28, and lodged in a monastery. One of the monks could not take his eyes off him; it was Myconius. He then saw Luther for the first time; he wished to approach him, to say that he was indebted to him for peace of mind, and that his whole desire was to labour with him. But Myconius was too strictly watched by his superiors; he was not allowed to speak to Luther.
Friedrich Myconius was later a leading Protestant Reformer in central Germany and an intimate friend of Luther.
The Elector of Saxony was then holding his court at Weimar, which is probably why the monks gave Luther a welcome. He was invited to preach in the palace chapel the next day, the festival of St Michael. This was a mark of favour from his prince. He took his text (Matthew 18:1-11) from the gospel of the day. He spoke forcibly against hypocrites, and those who boast of their own righteousness. But he said not a word about angels, although this was the custom on St Michael’s day.
Luther’s courage, as he was going quietly on foot to answer a summons which had terminated in death to so many of his predecessors, astonished all who saw him. Interest, admiration and sympathy prevailed by turns in their hearts. One monk, John Kestner, struck with apprehension at the thought of the dangers which awaited his guest, said to him: “Brother, in Augsburg you will meet with Italians, who are learned men and subtle antagonists and who will give you enough to do. I fear you will not be able to defend your cause against them. They will cast you into the fire, and their flames will consume you.” Luther solemnly replied: “Pray to our Lord God who is in heaven . . . for [the sake of] His dear Son Jesus, whose cause is mine . . . If He maintain His cause, mine is maintained; but if He will not maintain it, of a truth it is not I who can maintain it.”
Luther continued his journey on foot and arrived at Nuremberg. As he was about to present himself before a prince of the Church, he wished to appear in suitable clothes. His own were old and the worse for the journey. He therefore borrowed a garment from his faithful friend Wenceslas Link, preacher at Nuremberg. The letters he wrote from this city show the spirit which then animated him: “I have met with timid men who wish to persuade me not to go to Augsburg; but I am resolved to proceed. The Lord’s will be done! Even at Augsburg, even in the midst of His enemies, Christ reigns. Let Christ live; let Luther die and every sinner, according as it is written! May the God of my salvation be exalted! Farewell! Persevere, stand fast, for it is necessary to be rejected either by God or by man. But God is true, and man is a liar.”
Link and an Augustine monk named Leonard would not permit Luther to go alone to face the dangers that threatened him. They knew his disposition and were aware that, abounding as he did in determination and courage, he would probably be lacking in prudence. They therefore accompanied him. When they were about 15 miles from Augsburg, Luther, probably exhausted as a result of the journey, was seized with violent pains in the stomach. He thought he would die. His two friends in great alarm hired a wagon in which they placed him. On the evening of October 7 they reached Augsburg, and alighted at the Augustine monastery. Luther was very tired but soon recovered.