May we look to the Lord in prayer.
Lord, as we assemble together in Thy presence, we do bow our hearts before Thee, acknowledging Thee as the Lord of the heavens and of the earth, acknowledging Thee as our Lord, as my Lord.
And we do want to lift Thee up because Thou art the only name that is worthy to be praised. God has given Thee a name that is above every name, and to that name every knee shall bow. Everything confess that Jesus is Lord.
And we do confess Thee as our Lord, as our King, as our all. We do come into Thy presence to hear Thy word. We ask Thee, Lord, that by Thy Holy Spirit, Thou wilt quicken every one of us, that we may hear Thy voice speaking to us intimately, personally, and draw us closer to Thyself, because Thou art worthy.
We do commit this time into Thy hands, and to Thee be the glory, in the name of our Lord Jesus. Amen.
The theme of our time together is the unfolding of God’s recovery work in the church. And I am burdened with illustrating this recovery work of God in the church with the lives of five men.
Now, brothers and sisters, we do know that whenever God does work in the church, for the church, for Himself, He always looks for vessels—human vessels fit for His use. Now, these human vessels are but earthen vessels. It is the treasure in these vessels that reveals the surpassing greatness of the power of the glory.
Whatever God desires to work in the church among His people, we find, first of all, God will work that in these lives. God first works in these lives, and then out of these lives God will work in the church. So these lives are like seeds that God has sown on the earth.
And this is the way that God always does His work. Because of this, we feel that we may illustrate the unfolding of God’s recovery work in the church with these lives. But we hope that our attention will not be upon these men. Our attention will be upon that treasure that is in these earthen vessels.
Now, because of our limited time, we choose among many five epoch-making vessels of God. These men are Martin Luther, Count Zinzendorf, John Wesley, John Nelson Darby, and Watchman Nee.
So this morning we would like to share together before the Lord the life of Martin Luther.
We go back to April 18, 1521 A.D. The occasion was the Diet of Worms. There was the general assembly of the Holy Roman Empire, called together by the newly crowned Emperor Charles V.
And the main issue before this Diet of Worms was the issue of the word of God versus the tradition of man; the liberty of conscience versus the tyranny of authority.
On the one side was a monk, a university professor, a preacher of the gospel of Jesus Christ, whose name was Martin Luther. He was summoned to appear before the general assembly, before the emperor, before six electors of the empire, before the dukes, the counts, the princes, the marquises, the papal legates, and before dignitaries of all ranks—before ambassadors of many countries.
In other words, he was summoned to appear before a fair representation of all the power of both the empire, the state, and the church.
A question was put before him: “Will you retract, or will you not?”
That is, would Martin Luther retract that which he had written concerning faith and good works, about the tyranny of the papacy, against individuals who desired to defend the Romish tyranny and to destroy the faith?
Upon this, Luther replied with no hesitation, saying:
Since your serene majesty and your high mightiness require from me a clear, simple, and precise answer, I will give you one. And it is this: I cannot submit my faith either to the pope or to the councils, because it is clear as day that they have frequently erred and contradicted each other. Unless, therefore, I am convinced by the testimony of Scripture and by the clearest reasoning, and unless they thus render my conscience bound by the word of God, I cannot and I will not retract; for it is unsafe for a Christian to speak against his conscience.
Then he looked around the assembly, in whose hands his life was, and he declared:
Here I stand. I can do no other. May God help me. Amen.
Now, these words sealed the course of the Reformation.
Martin Luther was born on November 10, one hour before midnight, in 1483 A.D., at Eisleben. His father, John Luther, was an upright man—diligent, industrious, frank, and carrying the firmness of his character even to obstinacy.
His mother, Margaret, possessed all the virtues of a good, pious woman. Her modesty, her fear of God, and her prayerful spirit were particularly remarked.
Now, the reformer remarked later on, “My father was a poor woodcutter, and my mother sometimes had to take wood upon her back and carry it in order to bring us children up. My parents suffered and endured a lot for us children.”
As soon as Martin Luther was old enough to understand, his parents tried to impart to him the knowledge of God, to train him up in the faith and in the fear of God, and to mold him into Christian character.
The father would often be found kneeling by the side of this little child, praying aloud for his son—that God would keep his son, that his son might remember God’s name, and one day might be used for the spreading of the truth.
Now, during those days, the philosophy of education was fear. Chastisement was the incentive for study.
So Martin Luther recalled that when he was a child, his parents chastised him and disciplined him very severely. Because of that, it made him very timid. He said his parents thought that they were doing the right thing.
Now, he acknowledged that a child should be disciplined, but the parents should know the character of the child. That is to say, the parents should know when, where, and how to apply the chastisement. And together with the rod, there should be the apple.
When he went to school, he received treatment no less harsh. One morning he was flogged fifteen times. He acknowledged that a child should be disciplined, but they should always be loved.
In his young age at school, he did learn something. He learned by heart the short catechism. He learned the Ten Commandments, the Lord’s Prayer, and a few forms of prayer. And also, of course, a little Latin grammar and so forth.
Now, in this boy, at that period, there was no indication of any religious conviction. The only conviction that could be found in that boy was fear. He said when he heard the name of the Lord Jesus mentioned, he turned pale. Why? Because the Lord Jesus was presented to him as an offended Judge.
At the age of fourteen, his father sent him to study in a Franciscan school at Magdeburg. He was sent out at this young age to a place where he had no relatives and no friends.
So he lived literally in fear of his masters. Most of the time of recreation was spent in begging on the street for his food.
A year later, his father sent him to another school, a celebrated school in Eisenach. Now, there were relatives there in that city, but unfortunately these relatives did not take care of him. Probably they too were too poor to help that boy.
So again, you find young Luther. He had to sing with some fellow students who were poor. They would go out into the streets and sing from door to door in order to obtain a morsel of food. But oftentimes all they got was harsh words and no food.
One day, he was singing on the street, and he had already been rejected by three houses. He was ready to return to his lodging fasting.
As he was walking on the street, he came to the square of St. George. He stopped at the door of a citizen there. He meditated. He reflected. He thought to himself whether he should quit studying and go back to work in the mines with his father.
As he was standing there, suddenly the door was opened, and a lady came out. Her name was Ursula Cotta, the wife of Conrad Cotta.
This Shunammite woman had noticed this young student a number of times in the meeting. She was touched by the sweetness of his voice and his devotion. Now, she had heard the harsh words the people spoke to this young boy. Therefore, she was compassionate toward this boy.
She opened the door, invited him in, and gave him food. Her husband approved of what she did. As a matter of fact, her husband was so pleased with his conversation with young Luther that his family took him in and asked him to stay with them. So his problem was solved.
And this experience made such a deep impression upon Luther that from that day onward, his confidence in God was never shaken, even by later very serious problems.
At the age of eighteen, he went to study at the university in Erfurt, where he studied the masterpieces of antiquity and scholastic philosophy. But even at that period, when he was absorbing these learnings, he did not forget God, because he felt that it was God upon whom he must depend.
So every morning he would pray first. Then he would go to the church to pray. After that, he would apply himself to study. And he would not lose even a moment in study.
He said, “To pray well is half of study.”
Now, he was in the university for about two years. One day he was in the library, looking over the books. He was just looking at the titles of the books, trying to remember the titles and the authors, you know, to know what books there were.
As he was looking at one book after another, he came to a strange book, a rare book he had never seen before. He looked at the title, and the title of the book was The Bible.
Immediately his curiosity was aroused. He looked through the pages, and he discovered things in that book that he had never heard before.
You know, on Sunday he went to church and he heard the Bible read—the fragments of the Gospels and the Epistles—and he always thought that was the whole Bible. He never knew that there were chapters and books in the Bible that he had never known before.
So he was so excited. He went back again and again to look over the pages of that book. Even though at that time he did not yet have the understanding, yet in reading this book he found great joy.
We know that in this Book is the seed of the Reformation.
Now, he was at the time that he got his first degree of bachelor. But because of his excessive labor in passing the examination, he fell dangerously ill. He thought he would die.
Among the people who visited him was a veteran priest. So this young Luther just opened up his heart. He told that priest, “I will soon depart from this world.”
And this priest told him:
My dear bachelor, take courage. You will not die of this illness. Our God will yet make of you a man who in turn shall counsel many. For God giveth His cross upon those whom He loveth, and they who bear it patiently acquire much wisdom.
Luther recovered from this illness. Because of the Book, his illness, and the words of that priest, a change began to come upon him. But still, there was not that great decision.
He continued his study. In 1505, he was admitted Master of Arts and Doctor of Philosophy. Now he had to determine what he would do for his future. He had to choose his career. He thought he would choose law, because that was his father’s wish.
But God had a different thought for him. Two events happened during that time.
First, one day the news of the assassination of his closest friend, Alexis, came to him. When he heard that his young friend was assassinated, a fear came upon him, and he said, “Lord, what if it is I? If I should die without any warning, what would happen to me?”
Then, in the same year, in the summer, when he came from home to the university, he was already approaching the city of Erfurt. But a thunderstorm suddenly overtook him. The lightning flashed. The bolt struck near his feet. He threw himself to the ground. He was filled with terror. He thought, “This is my day.”
The thought of death, judgment, and fear filled his heart. In his anguish, he made a vow: “God, if You will save me, I will forsake the world and devote myself to You.”
On entering into the city, his resolution was true. Of course, it was a great pain to him to be separated from his parents, from the university, and from his friends.
He told no one, but he invited his university friends to come and have a party one night. It was a very happy party. They had music, they sang, and Martin Luther told no one what he wanted to do. After the party was over, that was his farewell to the world.
In the dark night, he left his lodging. He left his clothes and his books behind him. He took only two books. You may think it strange what books he took. He took Virgil and Plautus—an epic poet and a writer of comedies.
He knocked at the door of the convent of the Hermits of St. Augustine and asked to be admitted. The door was opened and was closed. Luther was separated from the world.
This was August 17, 1505. He was twenty-one years old.
With God at last, he was now about to find that holiness which he had so much desired. He did not know that salvation comes wholly from God. He sought after his own righteousness and was unmindful of the righteousness of God. But in the cloister of Erfurt, he was to learn the truth.
In the convent, he found a Bible chained there. To this Book he returned again and again. Though he still had little understanding of it, it was the most pleasing study to him.
Desiring to attain to holiness, he lived a life of asceticism. He was trying to crucify his flesh by fasting, mortifications, and watches, shut up in his cell like a prison.
He struggled unceasingly against the deceitful thoughts and the evil inclinations of his heart. A little bread and a small herring were his only food.
Yet he did not find in the tranquility of the cloister and in monkish perfection the peace of mind for which he had looked so long. He wished to have the assurance of his salvation. This was a great desire of his soul.
But the fears that had agitated him in the past followed him to the cloister. From the reading of that chained Book, he knew what holiness was, and he longed for it, but he did not find it in his heart nor in his life.
In this state of mind, he was somewhat comforted by his conversations and correspondence with the Vicar General of the Augustinians of all Germany, Johann von Staupitz.
The wasted frame, the melancholy appearance, and yet the earnest, resolute look of the young monk attracted the attention of Johann von Staupitz, the Vicar General.
So Johann von Staupitz talked to him. He assured Luther that he was entirely mistaken in supposing that he could stand before God on the ground of his works and merits; that he got all these things only by the mercy of God, and His mercy must flow to him through faith in the blood of Christ.
He said:
Why do you torment yourself with all these speculations and these high thoughts? Look at the wounds of Jesus Christ, to the blood that He has shed for you; and it is there that the grace of God will appear to you. Instead of torturing yourself on account of your sins, throw yourself into the Redeemer’s arms, trusting Him in the righteousness of His life and in the atonement of His death. Do not shrink back. God is not angry at you; you are angry at God.
Listen to the Son of God. He became man to give you the assurance of divine favor. He says to you, “You are My sheep. You hear My voice. No one shall pluck you out of My hand.”
A ray of light entered into the heart of Luther. Then Johann von Staupitz told him, “Occupy yourself wholly with that Book,” and he gave him a Bible.
Because of his agony and struggle of soul, he fell dangerously ill again. He was sent to the infirmary.
One day he was overwhelmed with despair, and he was visited by an old monk. This man spoke to him of the efficacy of faith. He reminded Luther of that article in the Apostles’ Creed:
I believe in the forgiveness of sins.
Now, these simple words, with the Lord’s blessing, seemed to have turned the mind of Luther from works to faith. Luther knew these words from his childhood. He recited these words, but they were just a form of words to him.
As he was reciting it and repeating it to himself, that old man told him, “This is not a general thing. This is your personal belief.”
Finally, the light entered into his heart. He was delivered from justification by works into justification by faith. And this was the simple story of his conversion.
Now, Luther was not to remain buried and hidden in a convent, because God had a purpose for him. So in 1508, he was invited to be a professor in the newly opened University of Wittenberg.
He was to lecture on scholastic philosophy, Aristotelian dialectics, and physics. But during these years while he was lecturing philosophy in the university, he was studying theology at the same time.
So by 1512, he had passed through all these stages and degrees, and he received the Doctor of Divinity. From that time onward, he changed his lectures from philosophy to theology. And that was his heart’s desire.
He began his lectures with Psalms and Paul. David and Paul, Psalms, Romans, and Galatians were his favorites.
One day, while he was preparing his lecture, he came to Romans 1:17:
The just shall live by faith.
A light, we may say, beyond the brightness of the sun, filled his whole being. The grand doctrine of justification by faith alone he received into his heart as from the voice of God.
He saw that eternal life was to be obtained not by penance, but by faith. So in that light, he gave lectures on the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments.
While he was still in the university—we have to go back a little bit—in 1510, he was sent to Rome on behalf of the Augustinians, the Order of St. Augustine. He traveled to Rome barefooted.
Now, even though he had knowledge and light from the Scripture, from the word of God, as he was in Rome he was greatly disappointed by what he saw: the luxury of the monasteries. There was no piety there.
But still, you find he was so bound by tradition that when he was in Rome, he was like a crazy saint. He visited every church, catacomb, crypt, and saw all these relics and miracles of martyrs.
One day he went to climb on his knees the Pilate staircase, because the pope gave an indulgence to whoever would climb on their knees up the Pilate staircase.
So there was Luther, dragging his body up the stairs. In the middle of it, suddenly he heard a voice like thunder out from his heart:
The just shall live by faith.
He was awakened. He was so ashamed of himself. He stood up. He fled. He returned to Wittenberg.
But he was not ready to reform the church yet. He was not even thinking of leaving the church. He remained a faithful Catholic until 1517.
God’s providence moved in a mysterious way. Luther was not only one who seemed to pioneer an age, but he himself was the child of the age.
It was during the time that Pope Leo X, in order to build the grand cathedral of St. Peter’s and also to replenish his treasury, gave permission to send men to sell indulgences.
Now, I do not know whether you all know what an indulgence is. Simply speaking, indulgence is this: if you buy that indulgence, your sins will be forgiven.
All Germany was stirred. The papal commissioner for selling indulgences was a man named Johann Tetzel.
He created quite a stir. He would arrive at a city with pomp, and there he would erect a red cross with the arms of the pope suspended on it. Then he would ascend the platform, and with good eloquence he would say:
Indulgences are the most precious and the most noble of gifts. This cross, pointing to that red one, has as much efficacy as the cross of Jesus Christ. And I will give you letters, all properly sealed, by which even the sins that you intend to commit may be pardoned.
And you, for a quarter of a florin, will not receive these letters of indulgence by means of which you may introduce into paradise, not a vile metal, but a divine, immortal soul, without its running any risk.
But more than that, indulgences were available not only for the living, but also for the dead. And for that, repentance was not even necessary.
At the very instant that the money rattles at the bottom of the chest, the soul comes from purgatory and flies liberated to heaven.
After much serious deliberation, without consulting any of his colleagues, Luther felt he must do something.
He chose the orderly and usual way of a learned academic disputation. So, on October 31, 1517, at noon, Luther marched boldly toward the cathedral at Wittenberg, and he nailed his ninety-five theses upon the door against the doctrine of indulgences.
He declared to a kindred spirit that he had written these theses with the express desire of setting the truth in the full light of day. He declared himself ready to defend these theses the next morning against anybody.
The germs of the Reformation were contained in these propositions. The pope’s indulgences, said Luther, cannot take away sins. God alone remits sins, and He pardons those who are truly repentant without help from man’s absolution.
The church may remit penalties which the church inflicts, but the church’s power is in this world only; it extends not beyond death. Who is this man who dares to say that for so many crowns the soul of a sinner can be saved?
Every Christian, every true Christian, participates in all the blessings of Christ by God’s grace and without a letter of indulgence.
No one appeared the next day at the university to attack Luther’s propositions. But history itself undertook the disputation and defense.
These theses were copied, translated, printed, and spread as on angels’ wings. In a few weeks, they spread all over Germany and Europe.
Now, this papal commissioner, Tetzel, tried to make a reply. In his reply, he just reasserted the power of the pope and the power of the clergy deputed by the pope. He reasserted that these indulgences had the full power of forgiving sins.
So Luther answered him with resolutions explaining his theses. In these resolutions, we find all the principles of the Reformation.
He reaffirmed that justification was by faith alone, without the deeds of the law. So there he was challenging the pope.
In the summer of 1518, the pope summoned Luther to Rome on the charge of heresy and disobedience. Through the good offices of Elector Frederick, this was transferred from Rome to Augsburg.
Because we have limited time, I have to go through very quickly this period. At the Diet of Augsburg, he was asked to retract what he had written, and he refused. He appealed to the universities and to the pope better informed. He still had faith in the pope.
Then, in fear of being arrested, he appealed to the general councils. This was followed by a disputation with Dr. Eck. During that period, Luther said he could not be submitted to the judgment of the pope nor of the council, but the articles of faith must come from Scripture alone.
So this was Luther’s break with the Roman Church.
Dr. Eck was irritated by his defeat in the argument with Luther. So he hurried back to Rome, and he tried to get a bull of excommunication issued against Luther.
On June 15, 1520, the bull of excommunication was issued. Luther’s writings were condemned to the flames, and he himself was delivered over to Satan as a wicked heretic unless he repented and implored the clemency of the pontiff within sixty days.
But in the same year, on December 10, at nine o’clock in the morning, in the presence of a large number of professors and students, Luther solemnly committed the bull of excommunication, with some other writings, to the flames.
He said:
As thou hast vexed the Holy One of the Lord, may the eternal fire vex thee.
Now the problem was with the Holy Roman Empire: whether the Holy Roman Empire would harbor this heretic, or whether the Holy Roman Empire would expel this heretic.
So came the Diet of Worms. Luther was summoned to appear before the emperor of the Holy Roman Empire at the Diet of Worms. He was given a safe-conduct to travel to Worms, because as an excommunicated person, anybody could kill him.
His friends advised him not to go, because this papal paper was not very dependable. But Luther felt he must go.
I shall go to Worms, though there were as many devils there as the tiles on the roof.
So he went there. On April 17, he was summoned before the assembly.
He advanced and stood before the throne of Charles. The sight of so august an assembly appeared for a moment to dazzle and intimidate him. All eyes were fixed on him. The confusion gradually subsided, and a deep silence followed.
To the two questions he was asked, he answered:
As to the first, I acknowledge as mine the books that have just been named, and I cannot deny them. As to the second—that is, to retract—seeing that it is a question which concerns faith and the salvation of souls, and in which the word of God, the greatest and most precious treasure either in heaven or earth, is interested, I should not imprudently answer. For this reason, I entreat Your Imperial Majesty, with all humility, to allow me time, that I may answer it without offending against the holy God.
He was granted another day, but he had to answer by mouth and not by writing.
In the morning of April 18, Luther was not without his moments of trial, in which the face of God seemed hidden from him. His flesh grew weak. His enemies multiplied before him. His imagination was overwhelmed at the sight.
He prayed:
O almighty and everlasting God, how terrible is this world! Behold, it openeth its mouth to swallow me up, and I have so little trust in Thee. How weak is the flesh, and how powerful is Satan! If it is in the strength of this world only that I must put my trust, it is all over. My last hour is come. My condemnation has been pronounced.
O God, O God, O God, do Thou help me against all the wisdom of the world. Do this. Thou shouldst do this. Thou alone. For this is not my work, but Thine; but the cause is Thine, and it is a righteous, eternal cause. O Lord, help me, faithful and unchangeable God.
In no man do I put my trust. My God, art Thou dead? No, Thou canst not die. Thou hidest Thyself only. Thou hast chosen me for this work. I know it well. And Thou, O God, stand at my side for the sake of Thy well-beloved Jesus Christ, who is my defense, my shield, and my strong tower.
After a moment of silent struggle, he continued:
Lord, where stayest Thou? O my God, where art Thou? Come, come. I am ready. I am ready to lay down my life for Thy truth, patient as a lamb, for it is the cause of justice. It is Thine.
I will never separate myself from Thee, neither now nor through eternity. Though the world should be filled with devils, though my body, which is still the work of Thy hands, shall be slain, be stretched upon the pavement, be cut to pieces, reduced to ashes, my soul is Thine.
Yes, I have the assurance of Thy word. My soul belongs to Thee. It shall abide forever with Thee. Amen. O God, help me. Amen.
After he had prayed, Luther found a peace of mind. He then read the word of God, looked over his writings, and sought to prepare the answer in a well-suited way.
The thought that he was about to appear before the emperor and the whole empire to testify to Jesus Christ and His word filled his heart with joy.
And of course, what he confessed we have already read in the beginning:
Here I stand. I can do no other. May God help me.
On April 26, Luther left Worms for Wittenberg. On May 26, the imperial edict was issued. It gave legal force to the bull that the pope had issued.
In this imperial edict, Luther was denounced as a devil in the dress of a monk, and the ban was pronounced upon him. It commanded the burning and forbade the printing, publication, and sale of his books; the sheltering and feeding of his person and that of his followers; and directed magistrates to seize him wherever he might be found and to deliver him over to the emperor, to be dealt with according to the penal laws against heretics.
But when Luther was on his way back, on May 4, suddenly a noise was heard. Immediately, five horsemen, masked and armed from head to feet, pulled Luther out of his carriage, put him on a horse, threw a cloak over him, and within a second disappeared into the forest.
An hour before midnight, these horsemen came to the bottom of the hill, and Luther was taken to be kept in the castle at Wartburg.
Rumors spread all over Europe: Luther had fallen into the hands of his foes. But actually, it was a clever scheme by Elector Frederick.
He knew that the safe-conduct was only for three weeks, and after three weeks he was afraid for the life of Luther. Yet he did not want to disobey the emperor. So he secretly made plans to take Luther out of the scene.
So Luther was, as it were, imprisoned in that castle. They changed his dress, dressed him like a knight, and called him Knight George.
During the past few years, Luther was in the center of the struggle, but now he was suddenly taken out of the scene. It shows that the Reformation is not the work of man; it is the work of God. Because even though he was not there, the work went on.
Luther was in the castle for nine months. During his leisure, he did the greatest work he ever did: he translated the whole New Testament into German.
He made the Book available not only in church and in school, but in homes. Reformation does not depend upon the reformers. Reformation depends upon the word of God.
After nine months, he returned to Wittenberg to resume the leadership. In 1525, on June 11, Luther married. He married an ex-nun.
He was happy in this union. He said, “The best gift of God is a pious and amiable wife, who fears God, loves her family, with whom a man may live in peace, and in whom he may safely confide.”
In 1546, on January 28, Luther returned to Eisleben. Even though he was quite ill at that time, he still participated in all the conferences until February 17.
On retiring that evening, he grew worse. He prayed:
O my Father, Thou the Lord, the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, Thou the source of all consolation, I thank Thee for having revealed unto me Thy well-beloved Son, in whom I believe, whom I have preached and acknowledged and made known, whom I have loved and celebrated.
I commend my soul to Thee, O my Lord Jesus Christ. I am about to quit this terrestrial body. I am about to be removed from this life. But I know that I shall abide eternally with Thee.
He then repeated three times:
Into Thy hands I commit my spirit; Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord, God of truth.
He closed his eyes and fell back on his pillow. Efforts were made to revive him, and the question was put to him, “Father, do you die firm in the faith you have taught?”
Luther opened his eyes, looked at Dr. Jonas, and replied firmly and distinctly, “Yes.”
He then fell asleep. His breathing became more and more faint. At length he sighed deeply, and the reformer was gone.
Shall we pray?
Yeah, Heavenly Father, we do worship Thee because of Thy love for Thy beloved Son and Thy love for Thy church. Thou hast raised up this man to be a vessel in Thy hand, to bring Thy people into the light of justification by faith.
We do thank Thee for this gift that comes from Thee, and we want to give Thee thanks in the name of our Lord Jesus. Amen.