NO event in the life of Martin Luther is more extraordinary than that of his victory over the powers of the world and of the church at Worms in April of the year 1521; and, we may almost say, no event in history is more wonderful, for then one man faced the whole might of the world.
Having been cursed by the Pope himself to the fullest extent of his ability, Luther was summoned by the mighty Emperor Charles V.—practically the sovereign of the world—to appear before the Diet convened at the city of Worms, there to give account of himself, and necessarily to retract his doctrines. He had a safe-conduct, which really was of no value with the Pope's party; but Luther knew it was God's will that he should attend the Diet, and thus expressed himself to his friends: "I am called; it is ordered and decreed that I appear in that city. I will neither recant nor flee. I will go to Worms in spite of all the gates of hell and the prince of the power of the air." As he passed through Germany to the city, the inhabitants of whole villages and towns turned out to welcome the bold monk who dared to face the greatest powers on earth for the sake of the Truth of God.
“They will burn you as they did John Huss," said some, who remembered what was the worth of the safe-conduct granted to that martyr. Luther answered: "Though they should kindle a fire all the way from Worms to Wittemberg, the flames of which reached to heaven, I could walk through it in the name of the Lord." As he neared the city, his great friend Spalatin sent a messenger begging him not to enter. Luther's reply was: "Go and tell your master that even should there be as many devils in Worms as tiles on the housetops, still I will enter it.' When at length the old towers of the city arose before his eye, he sat up in his car and sang the hymn of his own composing—
“A tower of strength is God our Lord—
A sure defense and busty guard;
His help as yet in every need
From danger hath our spirit freed:
Our ancient foe in rage
May all his spite display
May war against us wage,
And arm him for the fray,
He that can keep all earth at bay.”
At mid-day the city was reached, and crowds rushed out of the houses to behold the humble monk who braved the Emperor, the Pope's nuncios, the princes and the bishops of Christendom. His car could hardly advance for the mass of people, and it was midnight before he could be alone. Then he opened the casement of his window, and, looking up to the still sky, said: "I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep for Thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety," and took his rest.
In the morning, dressed in his monk's frock, Luther appeared before the grandeur of the Diet. He was dazed for a moment by the array before him—Emperor, electors, sovereigns, dukes and ambassadors, Papal nuncios, archbishops and bishops, not to speak of princes and counts—but he soon regained his calm.
“Martin Luther," cried Eck, the spokesman of the Diet, as he pointed to a pile of some twenty volumes upon the table, "do you acknowledge these books to have been written by you? Are you prepared to retract and disavow the opinions you have advanced in them?”
Luther replied: "Most gracious Emperor, and most gracious princes and lords, the books that have just been named are mine." And then he asked for time to reply to the second question, as it was one which concerned the salvation of souls, and "as it was one in which the Word of God—than which nothing is greater in heaven or earth—is interested.”
The delay requested was but seemly; and the request was granted.
The following morning, early, Luther was upon his knees. Trembling before God—brave before men; absolute nothingness in God's presence—power in the presence of God's enemies. Luther was prostrate in his spiritual conflict. Was God with him? Did God hear him? Had God forsaken him? Such were his longing questions to God. He cried, “Stand at my side for the sake of Thy well-beloved Jesus Christ, who is my defense, my shield, and my strong tower. "Then, after a period of pleading, the darkness lifted, and Luther said,” My soul belongs to Thee! It shall abide forever with Thee. Amen!... O God! help me ... Amen.”
The agony of that early morning is proof that Luther's courage was from God; it was no mere iron human will which bent the Diet to attention-it was the strength which God gave His servant which bowed the mighty to listen to his words.
Calm in his soul, and filled with confidence and courage, Luther on the ever memorable 18th April, 1521, appeared once more before the Diet. He respectfully saluted the Emperor, the lords and the princes. He then declared that even his enemies had said of parts of his writings that they were conformable to Scripture; therefore these he could not retract. Also such parts of his books as attacked the errors of doctrine or evils in the life of the Papacy he could not withdraw, lest if he did so, evils still worse by the means of such withdrawal should be promulgated. As to such parts of his writings as those in which he had treated individuals with little ceremony, he would retract the manner of his utterances. But, he added, let him be but convinced from the Word of God that he was in error, and he would be the first to cast his books into the flames.
Having thus answered the questions of Eck, Luther proceeded to appeal to the great assemblage before which he was arraigned. But he did not plead for himself—far otherwise. He warned the Emperor and the rulers of the judgment to come, and of the certainty that they must stand before God and give an account to Him of their trust. Then, by examples of the overthrow of kingdoms and rulers, of Egypt, Babylon, and Israel, he made them feel their responsibility before God. He was judging his judges, and they stood condemned before the solitary monk they were seated to condemn.
A sound of applause followed his words. He was master—or, rather, God, who in him had spoken, was the Ruler in that assemblage.
Presently, Dr. Eck rose again, and demanded a precise answer: "Will you, or will you not, retract?”
To which Luther replied: "Unless I am convinced by the testimony of Scripture, or on plain and clear grounds of reason, so that conscience shall bind me to make acknowledgment of error, I can and will not retract, for it is neither safe nor wise to do anything contrary to conscience.”
Then turning round to the assembly, he said to the whole company: "HERE I STAND. I CAN DO NO OTHER. MAY GOD HELP ME. AMEN.”
The victory was won.
Luther was asked to withdraw for awhile, and the Diet deliberated. Then he was once more led before the Emperor's throne, and for the third time was asked to give his "Yes" or "No.”
He said he had no other answer to give than that which he had already given. And so he and the Diet parted.
As no recantation could be procured, the opposers of Luther sought to obtain his life. But although the Emperor would have broken his word in company with the prelates, and would have canceled the safe-conduct granted to Luther, the honest German princes (and some of them were Romanists) would hear of nothing so scandalous. Moreover, in and around Worms there were numbers of armed men ready to fight if necessary. But God's way for Luther was not the sword. While the gates were watched, and his end was being prepared, he rode out through the walls at a small exit. He was kept for months in hiding by his friends, and in vain was he searched for by his enemies.
Let us learn in our day our lesson from this grand old story. No battle for God is ever won by compromise. The truth must be maintained at all costs, and the truth held and maintained with a pure conscience, is mighty beyond all the forces of the world.
Let us also, again and again, thank God for Luther's "No." Had he hesitated—had he faltered, the Reformation on the Continent would have failed, and Rome would have been victorious. Oh! may God give us courage in our day to say "No" to all the enemies of the truth.