Background to the Sermon
I preached this sermon on 31 October 2010 to commemorate Reformation Sunday. As I prepared the sermon, I tried to focus on the abuses that marked the church at the time of Luther’s revolt. The Roman Catholic Church of the 21st century is not the church of the 16th century. Indeed, some of the abuses that distressed Luther were addressed by Rome before the end of the 1500s. Of course, there remain major differences between Roman Catholics and Protestants, the issue of authority being the most significant. But, today, in contrast to the age of Luther, we are better equipped to discuss our differences without resorting to force or acrimony.
If you want to read more about the Reformation and Protestantism, I’d recommend Alister McGrath’s Christianity’s Dangerous Idea.
Bulletin Board Changes World
Romans 1:16-17
According to the account learned by every Texan growing up, during the siege of the Alamo, Col. William Travis addressed his men, telling them that it was unlikely reinforcements would arrive in time to save them. Travis then took his sword and drew a line in the sand, telling the men that anyone who wanted to leave should cross the line. None did.
As widely told as the story is, many historians believe it never happened. One historian doubted Travis drew the line because "Buck" Travis would have never imagined any of his men would ever want to leave his command--even in the face of death. Others feel the evidence is just too scarce. In the end, the typical Texas attitude toward the story was voiced by yet another historian who said, “I believe the line was drawn in the sand whether the line was drawn in the sand or not.”
On 31 October 1517, an Augustinian monk named Martin Luther nailed 95 theses to the church door in Wittenburg, Germany. Some historians doubt it happened. I’m among those who take the same attitude most Texans take toward Travis’ line in the sand. We believe the theses were nailed whether the theses were nailed or not. Of course, you may be asking, “So what?”
Swiss-born Philip Schaff spent almost half a century, from 1844 to 1893, teaching church history in the United States. Schaff begins his volume on the Reformation with these words: “The Reformation of the sixteenth century is, next to the introduction of Christianity, the greatest event in history. It marks the end of the Middle Ages and the beginning of modern times.”
While in the history of thought it is difficult to name the birth date of most truly important movements, 31 October 1517 is as good a date as any to say the Reformation began. Remember that date. Martin Luther is usually credited with beginning the Reformation when, on that date, he nailed 95 those theses or propositions to the church door. Luther is probably the best known of those calling for reform but there were many others who were spiritually dissatisfied and ready for something new. Something new turned out to be something old.
Since his story is both typical and unique, I’ll take a moment are review it.
Martin Luther was born in Saxony in 1483 into the home of a prosperous miner. In 1505, while still in his early twenties, he received the MA from the University of Erfurt. He planned to study law, a profession his father had chosen for him. Then, one night as he was riding through a storm, a nearby bolt of lightning caused his horse to throw him and the panic-stricken Luther to cry out, “Saint Anne, help me. I will become a monk.”
True to his promise, in 1506, Luther became a monk in the Augustinian order. In time, he was ordained a priest and began serious theological studies. In 1512, he received the Doctor of Theology degree at the University of Wittenburg, where became a teacher.
Outwardly, Luther’s career in the church was stellar. In only a few years, he had gone from novice to professor of Biblical studies at one of Germany’s newest universities. Inwardly, however, Luther was spiritually dissatisfied. Though he was a diligent priest and scholar, he had no peace of soul. In his own words, he constantly wondered “when will I find a gracious God.”
Luther pursued the most rigorous of behavior to try to find peace with God but it eluded him. He wore his confessor out with the minutia of his confessions. Finally, his superior in the monastery advised him to give up being so introspective and focus his attention on the Scripture and theology. He did. From, the Scripture Luther began to get a different understanding of God’s righteousness.
To put the matter simply, Luther discovered the church had lost sight of the message of the gospel. Grace had become a commodity to be earned through the sacraments and righteousness a quality to be attained by good works. Luther felt he had never quite done enough.
But through his biblical studies, Luther began to get a new understanding of God. God yearned to give salvation to all who trusted him. Our self-effort could do nothing toward attaining God’s favor. Instead, we are justified by faith, faith alone. The work of Christ is sufficient for our salvation; we can add nothing to what he has already done.
All of this might have remained Luther’s private discoveries had it not been for a church renovation program back in Rome. Pope Leo X was renovating St Peter’s cathedral and needed cash—a lot of it—to get the job done. So he approved a campaign to sell indulgences. An indulgence was a way to escape time in Purgatory, that place between death and heaven where even the best Christians went to be purged of sins that remained after baptism. Indulgences had first been offered to crusaders and now they were made available to everyone. You could buy one for yourself and one for an already dead relative.
Johan Tetzel was the pope’s representative in Saxony. To sell the indulgences he used some surprisingly modern methods, such as advertising jingles: “As soon as the coin in the coffer rings, the soul from purgatory springs.” Tetzel used guilt to sell his product. It would be a hard-hearted man who could resist the appeal that for just a few coins he could end granny’s torment.
Luther was incensed at what he considered a travesty. He believed indulgences were unbiblical. He believed the way to heaven was through faith. He doubted the pope could do anything about the condition of the departed and if he could why didn’t he simply empty Purgatory instead of trying to make money.
These arguments and others were in the 95 Theses that Luther nailed to the church door. By the way, this was not an act of sacrilege. The cathedral door was used as a kind of bulletin board to announce upcoming events. Luther was proposing a public debate on the issue. He probably didn’t expect it to go much further than the university lecture hall. He was wrong.
The theses were copied, translated, printed, and spread throughout the territory. In time, his opinion of indulgences caught the attention of the church authorities. In 1520, the pope issued a statement denouncing Luther and his teaching. Luther burned it in a public ceremony which was probably the most flagrant defiance of authority imaginable. Life for western Christians would never be the same. In 1521, Luther was ordered to explain himself by Emperor Charles V. The meeting took place at Worms. It was here Luther concluded his defense with the words:
“Unless I am convinced by the Scriptures or by clear arguments (since I believe neither the Pope nor the Councils alone; it being evident that they have often erred and contradicted themselves), I am captive to the Holy Scriptures, and my conscience is bound by the word of God: I cannot and will not recant anything, since it is unsafe and dangerous to do anything against the conscience.”
Some reports say Luther added the word, “Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me. Amen”
The die was cast and the Protestant Reformation rolled on without stopping. There would be other leaders: Philip Melanchthon, John Calvin, Ulrich Zwingli, Menno Simons, and others. Other groups beside the “Lutherans” (a term Luther is said to have disliked) would follow; the Baptists appearing nearly a century after Luther posted his theses. They would have different distinctives but all of these groups would share common themes traceable to Luther’s revolution.
· The Bible alone is the foundation for Christian belief and practice. Historically, Protestants have termed this as sola scriptura.
· Salvation is the free, unmerited gift of God, available to all. Sola gratia Protestants say. Salvation is by “grace alone.”
· The avenue to this gracious salvation is through “faith alone,” sola fide.
· Each believer may enter a relationship with God, enjoying communion and forgiveness, without any other human mediator, a principle the Protestants called “the priesthood of believers.” Protestants would insist there is no distinction between priest and laity.
What do we owe Luther and the others? What did the movement they began pass on to us?
We sing differently because of the Reformation. Congregations were allowed to sing, not just trained choirs.
Our churches have a member most Christians before the Reformation had never imagined: the pastor’s wife.
The sermon became a hallmark of the worship service. Preaching replaced rote liturgy.
Let’s look at another change in more detail.
How many of you have a Bible with you? If you didn’t bring it, you probably have at least one at home.
Some of you have spent a lifetime studying it. Some of you have just begun to explore discover what it offers. When you’ve lost a loved one, you’ve turned to the Bible for comfort. When you’ve faced an ethical decision, you’ve found guidance from the Scripture. When you’ve been puzzled about God, the Bible has given you insight into his way with the world.
Now, imagine that Bible were only available to you in Latin. It’s true John Wycliffe translated the Bible into English before Luther but the Church did its best to suppress his work. But once the Reformation was in full swing, the Reformers made every effort to make the Bible available in the language of the people. Luther, himself, translated the Bible into German.
A hallmark of Protestantism was the trust that each believer could interpret the Bible for himself or herself.
Nina Hacker says:
But without the Protestant Reformation, you probably wouldn't be sitting in this church today, and you most certainly would not have an English-language Bible in every pew. It is thanks to the blood of the martyrs that in our time you can own and read the Bible in peace and freedom. Many of us today don't even know that in 1486 the Archbishop of Mainz issued an edict threatening to excommunicate anyone who translated or circulated the Bible. Or that in 1536 William Tyndale was burned at the stake for translating the Scriptures into English.
You see, before the Protestant Reformation, the common people everywhere were absolutely forbidden to read or interpret the Scriptures. In Greek and Latin, these were not to be translated, and no one was permitted to explain the Word of God except a priest.
Of course, today, our Roman Catholic neighbors can buy Bibles in a variety of translations with study aids to help them study the Bible on their own. I think that’s great. I hope they remember to say thanks to their Protestant neighbors for thinking up the idea.
For a little while now I’ve been trying to define some universal truths about the church in society. Before I close, I want to share some of them with you. Each is illustrated in the story of the Reformation.
Here they are in an early form. The Reformation illustrates the truth that…
--the church suffers recurring bouts of amnesia.
--no matter how appealing the idea may seem, when the church and the state are wed the marriage is disastrous.
--the church must always struggle to maintain a healthy balance between spirit and structure, form and freedom, tradition and innovation.
--in the church God has used individuals of both genders, regardless of their social, economic, educational, and national backgrounds to advance the Kingdom.
--on balance, society has been more blessed than cursed by the church’s presence.
--the church consists of saints whose saintliness sometimes lacks clear demonstration.
--no matter how compelling the evidence, it is always too soon to publish the church’s obituary.
Conclusion: Some Baptists insist we aren’t Protestants. Most who say that are either ignorant of history or are simply playing word-games.
We ought to be grateful to those martyrs who sometimes gave their all to promote the gospel of grace and to liberate men and women to find peace with God, freed from the impossible demands of salvation by works.
We should be pleased to have our names linked to their names.
We should be grateful to God for inspiring "a poor, emaciated monk" to take a stand challenging a Goliath that would have made the Philistine warrior seem like a flea.
Above all we should be thankful that by faith we can all find that gracious God.
