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Satan.
Luther was soon commanded by the authority of the emperor to
return home, and he knew that this notice would be speedily followed
by his condemnation. Threatening clouds overhung his path; but as
he departed from Worms, his heart was filled with joy and praise.
“Satan himself,” said he, “kept the pope’s citadel; but Christ has made
a wide breach in it, and the devil has been compelled to confess that
Christ is mightier than he.” On this journey the Reformer received
the most flattering attentions from all classes. Dignitaries of the
church welcomed the monk upon whom the pope’s curse rested,
and secular officers honored the man who was under the ban of the
empire.
He had not been long absent from Worms, when the papists
prevailed upon the emperor to issue an edict against him. In this
decree Luther was denounced as “Satan himself under the semblance
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of a man in a monk’s hood.” It was commanded that as soon as his
safe-conduct should expire, measures be taken to stop his work. All
persons were forbidden to harbor him, to give him food or drink, or
by word or act, in public or private, to aid or abet him. He was to be
seized wherever he might be, and delivered to the authorities. His
adherents also were to be imprisoned, and their property confiscated.
His writings were to be destroyed, and finally, all who should dare
to act contrary to this decree were included in its condemnation.
The emperor had spoken, and the Diet had given its sanction to the
Luther Before the Diet
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decree. The Romanists were jubilant. Now they considered the fate
of the Reformation sealed.
God had provided a way of escape for his servant in this hour
of peril. A vigilant eye had followed Luther’s movements, and a
true and noble heart had resolved upon his rescue. It was plain
that Rome would be satisfied with nothing short of his death; only
by concealment could he be preserved from the jaws of the lion.
God gave wisdom to Frederick of Saxony to devise a plan for the
Reformer’s preservation. With the co-operation of true friends, the
elector’s purpose was carried out, and Luther was effectually hidden
from friends and foes. Upon his homeward journey, he was seized,
separated from his attendants, and hurriedly conveyed through the
forests to the castle of Wartburg, an isolated mountain fortress. Both
his seizure and his concealment were so involved in mystery that
even Frederick himself for a long time knew not whither he had
been conducted. This ignorance was not without design: so long as
the elector knew nothing of Luther’s whereabouts, he could reveal
nothing. He satisfied himself that the Reformer was safe, and with
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this knowledge he was content.
Spring, summer, and autumn passed, and winter came, and
Luther still remained a prisoner. Aleander and his partisans rejoiced
that the light of the gospel seemed about to be extinguished. But in-
stead of this, the Reformer was filling his lamp from the store-house
of truth, to shine forth in due time with brighter radiance.
In the friendly security of the Wartburg, Luther for a time rejoiced
in his release from the heat and turmoil of battle. But he could not
long find satisfaction in quiet and repose. Accustomed to a life of
activity and stern conflict, he could ill endure to remain inactive. In
those solitary days, the condition of the church rose up before him,
and he cried in despair, “Alas! there is no one in this latter day of His
anger to stand like a wall before the Lord, and save Israel!” Again,
his thoughts returned to himself, and he feared being charged with
cowardice in withdrawing from the contest. Then he reproached
himself for his indolence and self-indulgence. Yet at the same time
he was daily accomplishing more than it seemed possible for one
man to do. His pen was never idle. While his enemies flattered
themselves that he was silenced, they were astonished and confused
by tangible proof that he was still active. A host of tracts, issuing
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The Spirit of Prophecy, vol. 4
from his pen, circulated throughout Germany. He also performed a
most important service for his countrymen by translating the New
Testament into the German tongue. From his rocky Patmos he
continued for nearly a whole year to proclaim the gospel, and rebuke
the sins and errors of the times.
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But it was not merely to preserve Luther from the wrath of his
enemies, nor even to afford him a season of quiet for these important
labors, that God had withdrawn his servant from the stage of public
life. There were results more precious than these to be secured.
In the solitude and obscurity of his mountain retreat, Luther was
removed from earthly supports, and shut out from human praise. He
was thus saved from the pride and self-confidence that are so often
caused by success. By suffering and humiliation he was prepared
again to walk safely upon the dizzy heights to which he had been so
suddenly exalted.
As men rejoice in the freedom which the truth brings them, they
are inclined to extol those whom God has employed to break the
chains of error and superstition. Satan seeks to divert men’s thoughts
and affections from God, and fix them upon human agencies; to
honor the mere instrument, and to ignore the Hand that directs all
the events of providence. Too often, religious leaders who are thus
praised and reverenced lose sight of their dependence upon God,
and are led to trust in themselves. As a result, they seek to control
the minds and consciences of the people, who are disposed to look
to them for guidance instead of looking to the word of God. The
work of reform is often retarded because of this spirit indulged by
its supporters. From this danger, God would guard the cause of the
Reformation. He desired that work to receive, not the impress of
man, but of God. The eyes of men had been turned to Luther as
the expounder of the truth; he was removed that all eyes might be
directed to the eternal Author of truth.
Chapter 8—Progress of the Reformation
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Luther’s mysterious disappearance excited consternation
throughout all Germany. Inquiries concerning him were heard ev-
erywhere. Even his enemies were more agitated by his absence than
they could have been by his presence. The wildest rumors were
circulated, and many believed that he had been murdered. There was
great lamentation, not only by his avowed friends, but by thousands
who had not openly taken their stand with the Reformation. Many
bound themselves by a solemn oath to avenge his death.
The Romanists saw with terror to what a pitch had risen the
feeling against them. Though at first exultant at the supposed death