IN the year 1517 there was a great commotion in Germany. Certain persons were sent round the country from town to town to sell indulgences. It was done with pomp.
Messengers were sent on to the magistrates of any town they visited, to announce the approach of the delegate from the pope. The monks, nuns, schoolmasters, &c., turned out to welcome the messenger, who, with flags flying, amid the pealing of the bells, was escorted to the church. Before him was carried his authority from the pope. In the church they put up a large cross, to which they attached the pope's heraldic arms.
One of those who conducted these sales was more famous than others because he effected more sales. His name was Tetzel, and he was now making his tour in Germany. He entered the pulpits, and addressed the people who flocked in great numbers to the church. Let us hear what he says.
‘“ Indulgences are the most precious and sublime of God's gifts ... Draw near, and I will give you letterer duly sealed, by which even the sins you shall hereafter desire to commit shall be all forgiven you. There is no sin so great that the indulgence cannot remit it.”
Tetzel told them that these indulgences were not only good for the living, but they would also purchase forgiveness for the dead. Would they let their departed parents and friends abide in torment?
“The very moment," said he, "that the money clinks against the bottom of the chest, the soul escapes from purgatory and flies free to heaven.”
“O senseless people, and almost like to beasts, who do not comprehend the grace so richly offered! This day, heaven is on all sides open. Do you now refuse to enter? When then do you intend to come in?. ... In the day of judgment my conscience will be clear: but you will be punished the more severely for neglecting so great a salvation. I protest that though you should have only one coat, you ought to strip it off and sell it, to purchase this grace. Our Lord God no longer deals with us as God. He has given all power to the pope.”
Thus spoke the seller of indulgences. One shudders to write such horrible profanity, but it is necessary for the reader to know what was practiced by the Church of Rome, that he may shun it as he would the most deadly disease: yea, more; the disease may ruin the body, but this heresy would ruin the soul.
Thus, for money they gave a paper, sealed by the pope's seal, which they pretended would confer on the holder forgiveness either for his past sins or for his future sins: for the living or the dead! On the parchment were drawn large figures calculated to excite imagination and fear, such as the hand of Christ pierced with a nail.
The people had to confess their sins, which was soon over, and then they hastened to purchase the indulgence. And here they had to pay according to their rank in life, and according to their income. Indulgences for particular sins could also be purchased. Tetzel charged for perjury nine ducats, and for murder eight.
Only think of the crime of murder being forgiven (as they said) for less than £4! Could there possibly be a more solemn mockery and delusion to souls?
The money came in freely. It was counted in the presence of a public notary and duly registered. It was being collected, they said, for repairing the Cathedral of St. Peter's at Rome.
This crying evil was one of the first with which Luther had to contend. It is easily to be seen that if forgiveness of sins was to be bought with money, there was an end at once of all need of the gospel of the grace of God. But Luther was quite clear that forgiveness was only to be had through faith in the sacrifice of Christ. Therefore this sale of indulgences could be nothing but a lie and a cheat. "A monstrous traffic in the church," said Luther, "presumes to take the place of redemption through Jesus ... It was Himself that He gave—Himself....And a wretched mountebank dares, with bellowing voice, to tender his abominable licenses in the stead of Jesus Christ....but, God willing, I'll beat a hole in his drum.”
The good sense of the people in a measure opened their eyes to the fraud. "How is it," said they, "if the pope has really the power to forgive sins, that he allows any to be lost? Will he for the sake of money allow any to die unforgiven?" Still, there was much need of money, and the traffic went on under the stirring appeals of Tetzel.
To cover appearances Tetzel once posted on the church doors that at Easter indulgences would be granted to the poor gratuitously and for the love of God.
This was at Annaberg in Saxony, and among Tetzel's hearers was young Myconius. He had been taught by his father that "the blood of Christ is the only ransom for the sins of the world," and that "all things are freely given to us by God alone." Now that the indulgences were to be given, he would go and get one. "I am a poor sinner," said he, "and I need a free pardon." “Those only can share in the merits of Christ who stretch forth a helping hand to the church-that is, give their money," said the indulgence sellers. Myconius asked what was meant by the offer of indulgences free that he saw posted up." Give at least a grosch" (about three half-pence), said they. "I cannot," he said. "Only six deniers" (about a farthing), they plead. "I have not even so much," said Myconius. "Listen," said they, “we will give you six deniers." On this Myconius replied with indignation, "I will have none of the indulgences that are bought and sold. If I desired to purchase them I should only have to sell one of my books. What I want is a free pardon, and for love of God. You will have to account to God for having for the sake of six deniers missed the salvation of a soul;" for he believed in the efficacy of indulgences. "Ah, ah," said they, "who sent you to tempt us?" "No one," said Myconius; "the desire of receiving the grace of God could alone induce me to appear before such great lords.”
He left without his indulgence. Their offer of them free had not been real. But he remembered what his father had taught him, and he said afterward that "As I left these people, the Holy Spirit touched my heart. I burst into tears, and, with sighs and groans, I prayed to the Lord: ‘O God, since these men have refused remission of sins because I had no money to pay; do thou, Lord, take pity on me, and forgive them in mere mercy.'.... I felt converted, transformed. What had before delighted me was now distasteful. To live with God, and to please Him, became my most ardent, my single desire."
In his case the refusal of an indulgence sent him to God, where he found both pardon and peace without money and without price. He became a Reformer and a friend of Melanchthon.
At another place the wife of a shoemaker bought an indulgence, and soon afterward she died. It was the custom then for the surviving relatives to have prayers or a mass said for the dead, the payment for which helped to support the clergy. Well, in this case it was noticed that the husband did not ask for prayers or a mass, and he was summoned by the curate before the judge for contempt of religion.
“Is your wife dead?" asked the judge.
“Yes," said the husband.
“What have you done for her?”
“I buried her, and commended her soul to God."
"But have you not had a mass said for the salvation of her soul?”
“I have not: it was not necessary. She went to heaven at the moment of her death."
"How do you know that?”
The husband produced the indulgence, and there sure enough it was stated that the woman at death would not go into purgatory, but would go straight to heaven.
“If the curate pretends," said the shoemaker, "that after that a mass is necessary, my wife has been cheated by our holy father the pope; but if she has not been cheated, then the curate is deceiving me." Such an argument was unanswerable. The shoemaker was acquitted.
Others turned the sale of indulgences into ridicule. A Saxon gentleman who heard Tetzel's preaching at Leipsic went to him and asked if he could grant an indulgence for a sin he wanted to commit. "Certainly," said Tetzel; "I have full power from the pope to do so." Mark this reply. This was not simply a forgiveness; it was more strictly an indulgence—a liberty to commit sin! Can anything be conceived to be more horrible or further, from godliness? "Well," said the gentleman, "I want to take some slight revenge on one of my enemies, without attempting his life. I will pay you ten crowns if you will give me a letter of indulgence that shall bear me harmless." This was too good an opportunity for Tetzel to let slip. Yes, he would do it, but not for ten crowns, he wanted much more than that. They struck their bargain at thirty crowns (about £3 15s). The gentleman got his indulgence and went his way.
Soon after, Tetzel left Leipsic. In passing through a wood between Jüterbock and Treblin a body of men surrounded him and his party, gave him a beating, and carried off the chest of money paid for indulgences. Tetzel was indignant, and brought an action before the judges. The gentleman who had bought the above indulgence (for it was he and his servants, who had attacked Tetzel) produced it in court. The indulgence bore the signature of Tetzel himself, holding the bearer harmless. What could the judges say? Duke George was very angry when the case was reported to him, but when the document was produced he ordered the accused to be set at liberty. It appeared to be a joke, and was perhaps so intended; but it was a great deal more. Here was a man who had authority from the pope to give permission for any one to sin, and to go unpunished both in this world and in the world to come! If Tetzel had lost his life in the affray, would he not have paid the just penalty of his profanity?
As an instance of the shameful way in which the poor people were deluded and imposed upon, the following is recorded. Tetzel had been at Zwickau with his indulgences, but was about to leave, when the chaplains and their subordinates begged him to give them a farewell repast. Tetzel was nothing loth, but unfortunately the money was already counted and sealed up. But they should not go without their feast, so in the morning he had the big bell tolled; people ran to the church, supposing something important had happened. "I had intended," said Tetzel, "to take my departure this morning, but last night I was awaked by groans. I listened: they proceeded from the cemetery. Alas it was a poor soul that called me and entreated to be delivered from the torment that consumed it. I have therefore tarried one day longer that I might move Christian hearts to compassion for this unhappy soul. Myself will be the first to contribute, but he who will not follow my example will be worthy of all condemnation." Who could turn away from such an appeal? They knew not but that that soul was one of their relatives. The gifts were readily given, and Tetzel and his friends sat down to the feast thus provided for them by the poor of Zwickau!
How the question of the sale of indulgences came practically before Luther was as follows. It is the habit in the Church of Rome for persons to go to the priest, and confess their sins. The priest, according to the nature of the sin, demands penance; and then on their complying he gives them absolution, or declares them forgiven. Well, it so happened that Tetzel in his tour came near to Wittenberg, and many went from thence and bought his indulgences. Some of these afterward came to confess to Luther, who still acted as priest. He demanded of them repentance. But they said, No, they need do no penance, because they had purchased an indulgence. He told them plainly it was all a delusion, and he insisted on their ceasing to do evil, or he could not absolve them.
They hastened back to Tetzel, and told him that a monk had treated his letters with contempt. Tetzel was much enraged, and, to strike terror into the hearts of the people, he caused fires to be made in the streets and declared he had orders to burn the heretics who should oppose his work.
Thus was Luther fairly brought into conflict with the Church of Rome. He did not wish it, but he could not see the people misled and cheated, and give his sanction to it. He believed God had called him to "defend the truth of the gospel," and he must speak out. He preached a sermon against indulgences, and plainly told the people they ought not to buy them.
But he must do more. He drew up ninety-five propositions, called theses against indulgences, "and on a feast-day when there were great crowds flocking into Wittenberg, he nailed them to the church doors. We can give only one or two of them. They were in the rough style common to the age.
“Those who fancy themselves sure of their salvation by indulgences will go to the devil with those who teach them this doctrine.”
“The true and precious treasure of the church is the holy gospel of the glory and the grace of God.”
These theses soon attracted attention, and a crowd collected round the church doors. One who got near read them aloud clause by clause, and as he read the people freely made their remarks. Some called out "True, true;" others exclaimed "Heresy, heresy." Thus were men's minds stirred up and the question of indulgences was fairly discussed.
But the theses were not only put up at the door of the church, they were printed, and those who had flocked to Wittenberg on the feast-day returned with a copy of Luther's theses, and they soon became known, and spread all over the country and to Rome in a few days, causing a great commotion wherever they went. Who was this that presumed to call in question what the pope was doing by his agents? It was a poor monk, but a monk led on by God.
The theses were by many hailed with delight. They had sighed over the gross abuses of the traffic, but had not dared to speak out: they rejoiced that some one had the courage to do so.
Others, who did not condemn them, were alarmed; Frederick the Elector was very uneasy. Luther was in his dominions, and who could tell where such a fire once kindled might not spread to? The bishop wrote to him, begging him not to write any more on the subject. The heads of his own monastery came to his cell and entreated him not to bring disgrace upon their order. Luther's answer was noble: "Dear fathers, if the thing is not of God, it will come to naught; if it is, let it go forward." They were silent. To others who greatly blamed him he wrote, "If the work is of God, who shall stop it? If it is not, who can forward it? Not my will, not theirs, not ours; but Thy will, Thine, Holy Father, who art in heaven.”
Still so many and so loud were the reproaches cast upon Luther that for a time his heart failed him. He had hoped the truth of his theses would have commended them to many; but the few who at first commended them were soon silent, and nothing was heard but the reproaches of the opposers. He tells us of his fear and trembling. Who was he to be in contest with the authority of the church? He was greatly dejected-almost in despair.
Tetzel took up the controversy in a formal manner. He first answered Luther's sermon, and then issued some counter-theses against those of Luther. We give three of them.
“Christians should be taught that they should place more dependence in matters of faith on the Pope's judgment, expressed in his decrees, than on the unanimous opinions of all the learned, resting merely on the interpretation of scripture.”
“Christians should be taught that the judgment of the pope, in things pertaining to Christian doctrine and necessary to the salvation of mankind, can in no case err.”
“Christians should be taught, that there are many things which the church regards as certain articles of the catholic faith, although they are not found either in the inspired scriptures or in the early Fathers.”
Nothing can be more destructive of the faith than to insist that the pope cannot err, and to set his judgment above and independent of scripture. Yet this doctrine they plainly put forth.
But Tetzel would not be put down. He had a scaffold erected, and after preaching against Luther, and declaring "the heretic ought to be burnt alive," he cast his theses and sermon on to the scaffold and set them on fire.
After this Tetzel employed persons to distribute his own theses over the country and a number of copies were sent to Wittenberg. The students of the University loved Luther, and no sooner did they hear of the arrival of the messenger than they surrounded him, and by fair means or foul possessed themselves of all his copies-about eight hundred. They then posted bills saying that the theses would be burnt publicly in the market place at two o'clock. At that hour crowds came together, and amid exclamations of joy the papers were burnt. This was done altogether without Luther's consent, and he much regretted the act. It helped to widen the breach.
Luther was next attacked from Rome itself. Sylvester Prierias, master of the pontifical palace, wrote an attack against Luther. It most shamelessly set the teaching of the Roman church and of the pope above scripture.
Luther could not be silent when the scripture was thus contemned. He saw the pith of the whole controversy lay now in a small compass; it was, is scripture to have the first place, or is the church and the pope? Luther exalted the scripture, and quoted from Gal. 1:88But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed. (Galatians 1:8): "Though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that we have preached unto you, let him be accursed." He closed with these words, "What if I were to lose my life? Christ still lives; Christ my Lord, and the Lord of all, blessed forever. Amen."
Luther was afterward attacked by Dr. Eck, who hitherto had been his friend. This grieved Luther much, and he desired to be silent, but his friends constrained him to reply.
In the year 1518 there was to be a general meeting of the order of the Augustines held at Heidelberg, and Luther was invited: His friends strongly advised him not to go, fearing he would fall into the hands of his enemies, but Luther would not allow himself to be hindered from any path of duty. Here was a means of spreading the truth, and he must go. He arrived safely, and in order to bring before his brethren the questions then agitating the church he drew up some propositions (which he called "paradoxes") for public discussion. We give two or three.
“Man is not justified who does many works; but he who, without having yet done works, has much faith in Christ.”
“The law says, ' Do this,' and what it enjoins is never done: grace says, ' Believe in Him,' and immediately all is perfected.”
“The love of God finds nothing in man, but creates in him what He loves. Man's love is the gift of His well beloved.”
Five doctors replied to Luther, but with moderation; all were interested and listened with attention, some were certainly helped and blessed. The truth was spreading. Seeds were then sown which sprang up after Luther had returned to Wittenberg. Among those who benefited by this discussion was Martin Bucer, who afterward took a prominent place among the Reformers.