Reformation: Past and Present
Notes
Transcript
Today is October 31st. And if I were to ask you “What holiday is today?” You might say it’s Halloween, a modern way of referring to “All Hallow’s Eve,” the night before All Saints Day, which is November 1st, where Catholics celebrate and honor all the saints in the church. But you probably weren’t thinking of All Hallow’s Eve, All Saints Day, or even honoring dead saints. You were thinking of costumes, trick-or-treating, and loads of candy.
And some of you may be a little more into church history and a little more Protestant. And you say, “Today is Reformation Day.” And what you’re doing is identifying this day not with All Hallow’s Eve, but with the day in 1517 when Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the Wittenburg door, not realizing that this small act would be the spark that would ignite the protestant reformation.
Friends, Grace Rancho is a protestant church. And we are a protestant church that traces its roots back to the reformation. And though I entirely believe in the sovereignty of God over every human event, and that nothing can thwart his will, I also wonder if we would be here today if Martin Luther never nailed those theses to the door.
In other words, I think modern American Christians don’t quite understand the significance of the Reformation, the significance of the theology discoveries made there, and its enduring relevance for us today. So because today is the 504th anniversary of Martin Luther’s first protest, I thought it would be good to preach an unusual sermon.
I have two goals. As is the goal of every sermon, I hope to make the point of a passage of Scripture more clear. That passage will be Galatians 2:15-16. But what will be unique to this sermon, is that I want to use the story of Martin Luther and the beginning of the reformation to help illustrate and clarify why the point of that passage is so important.
So let me read the passage to you. Galatians 2:15-16 “We ourselves are Jews by birth and not Gentile sinners; 16 yet we know that a person is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ, so we also have believed in Christ Jesus, in order to be justified by faith in Christ and not by works of the law, because by works of the law no one will be justified.”
So let’s rewind to before the Reformation. We’ll divide this sermon into five parts: The Times, The Man, The Discovery, The Confrontation, and the Relevance. Let’s start by rewinding.
#1 The Times. It’s nearly impossible for us to have a proper understanding of the times just prior to the reformation. It’s been called the Dark Ages. William Manchester wrote a history of the era titled A World Lit Only By Fire. We think of that age and we think of gothic architecture, with gargoyles perched above, superstitions, knights, battles, crusades.
Let’s mark a few things about the era. First, the pope. The pope had authority like a king, like an emperor. To be in violation of the pope, and therefore the church, was not only considered wrong but illegal and punishable by death.
The Pope was understood to be the Vicar of Christ, that is, he was Christ's very representative on earth. The church taught that Jesus gave the keys of the kingdom of heaven to Peter and that Peter handed down the keys to the kingdom to every pope that came after him. This is why many Roman catholic paintings or sculptures of Peter will include him holding a key.
Second, Scripture. Second, since the Pope had the authority, Scripture was displaced. The Church did not want people to read the Bible because they wanted the Church to be the sole interpreter of Scripture. No one else was allowed.
Third, Sacraments. Since the Pope was the head of the church, it was taught that through the church one received salvation. The Pope had the power to ordain bishops, who then ordained priests, and they were then given the power to turn on the faucets of grace. Think of the Pope like a fountainhead, and the grace flowing from him down to the bishops, bishops to priests, and the priests to the people in the church. And it was taught that the way these priests turn on the taps of grace was through seven sacraments: 1) baptism, 2) confirmation, 3) the Mass, 4) penance, 5) marriage, 6) ordination, and 7) last rites. You were not taught you needed personal faith in Christ, rather you were taught that through these sacraments grace would flow to you.
They so had a high view of church, but for the wrong reasons. They believe that the church and participation in the church itself was the mechanism through which you received God’s grace.
The Mass, of course, was the center of the whole thing. And at the center of the Mass was the Eucharist, what we call the Lord’s Supper or communion. They taught something called transubstantiation - that the bread and wine literally were transformed into the body and blood of Jesus. And so every time they took communion, Christ’s body was sacrificed afresh on the altar, and God’s anger at sin would be appeased.
This is why in the protestant tradition, though we have crosses, we don’t have Jesus still on the cross. In the Catholic tradition, Jesus is still hanging there. Why? He’s still being sacrificed.
In transubstantiation, the priest would stand before the people, and he would say in Latin (all Mass was done in Latin at that time, even though no one understood Latin), and he would declare “Hoc Est Corpus Meum” - which meant “This is my body.”
Now what’s funny about that is that often the priests themselves didn’t know Latin, but it didn’t really matter because none of the people listening didn’t know Latin either. So the priests would sometimes flub the Latin words, and the people wouldn’t know any better. So instead of saying “Hoc Est Corpus Meum,” priests got it wrong and would say “Hocus, Pocus,” and everyone believed the bread and wine turned into the body and blood. And that’s where “Hocus Pocus” comes from. In other words, most people didn’t understand what was happening and likened the mass to some sort of magic trick.
Now they were taught that through their participation in these sacraments, God gave grace to people. And his grace made us more and more righteous. And it was upon our accrued righteousness that we could be saved.
Fourth, Purgatory. So if you trusted Jesus, but did not accrue enough righteousness, it didn’t necessarily mean you went to hell, it simply meant that after you died, you needed to be purged in purgatory. So most souls had no assurance of going to heaven, but they figured they would go to purgatory, where they would suffer for thousands, hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of years, before they would arrive in heaven.
So ordinary people were constantly wondering if they were doing enough to earn the grace of God. Many souls were tormented with despair, devastated by their sin, but unable to be committed enough to overcome it. How do I know if I’ve done my best? What if I could have done more?
Fifth, confession. So at one point the church came up with a great idea: in 1215, the Fourth Lateran Council made a requirement that all Christians must regularly confess their sins to a priest. And if they don’t, well, they will face eternal damnation. The church thought that this would help struggling believers. It did the opposite. Because at confession, the priest would ask questions like, “Are your prayers, alms, and activities done more to hide your sins and impress others than to please God?” or “Have you muttered against God because of bad weather, illness, poverty, the death of a child or a friend?”
And it created a sense of terror in the minds of those trying to be faithful. Jesus was seen as a Doomsday Judge, all-terrible in his absolute holiness, searching the hearts for any presence of sin to condemn. In fact, in Luther’s own town of Wittenberg, before he made his amazing discovery of the true gospel, there was a stone carving upon the entrance to the cemetery that showed Christ seated on a rainbow, as the judge of the world, so angry that his veins were bulging out on his forehead.
Sixth, the Treasury of Merit. Now because grace was conceived as a sort of commodity you could gain through your participation in the sacraments, some people, especially devout people, were actually considered to have accrued more than enough merit to get into heaven. And so the saints had what was called a “Treasury of Merit,” that is, extra merit they earned in their lifetime that they could give to those who needed it. And if the saints gave you some of your merit, you could shorten your time in purgatory. This created a sense of veneration of saints. Jesus was the terrible judge, the saints could help you get out of some judgment.
How could you get the merit? Praying to saints, doing penance, doing good works.
Seventh, Indulgences. These were gifts from the Treasury of Merit given to people who did enough to earn them. In fact, the Pope was allowed to give indulgences to whoever he wanted. You could earn indulgences by doing whatever the Pope said you needed to do. And that would fast-track the soul out of purgatory. For instance, one Pope offered full-indulgences (no purgatory at all) for anyone who fought in the First Crusade. But over time, the Pope’s wanted to build expensive Cathedrals, so they began offering indulgences to anyone willing to give them some cash. You want out of purgatory? Here’s a gift of merit, an indulgence, for $9.99.
Now this is the world Martin Luther was born into. God was silent. The Bible was closed. Christ was angry. Grace was something you had to earn through piety. Or something you could purchase if wealthy. No one knew if they had done enough. Most were terrified of purgatory. There’s a reason they called it the Dark Ages.
#2 The Man: Martin Luther Now this was the world Martin Luther was raised in. His father wanted him to be a lawyer but he was always interested in spiritual things, even as a child. When he was 21, he was caught in a storm on a walk, when lightning struck so close to him that he almost died. Almost without thinking, he cried out, “Saint Anne, help me!” (Saint Anne was the Luther family saint) “I shall become a monk!” And he kept his word, against his father’s will.
He entered the monastery, and there were rules for everything, and he did everything in his power to follow all the rules. At times he would confess his sin for upwards of six hours. And afterwards, the priest would absolve him. But Luther knew the Catholic doctrine: that if his motivation was bad, none of it counted. And it drove him to constant morbid introspection.
On one occasion, he traveled to Rome, the center of Catholicism. He went from holy site to holy site, relic after relic, doing all he could to collect as much merit as he could. One of the best ways to get a bunch of years knocked off your purgatory stay was to climb to Scala Sancta, the staircase they say Jesus climbed to appear before Pilate (28 steps). You’re supposed to kiss each step, repeat the Lord’s Prayer after each one. He did it. And when he got to the top a question came into his mind: “Who knows whether any of this is true?”
That doubt niggled at him. But he continued all of his monkish activity, to the extreme. Never sure if he’s done enough. But what set things off was when the indulgence salesman Johann Tetzel came to Luther’s hometown in Wittenberg.
Yes - an indulgence salesman. If the pope would be able to build his great cathedral, he would need cash. How could he do that? Tell people who were terrified of purgatory that if they buy an indulgence, they could either lessen their own or a loved one’s time suffering in purgatory. He would travel around and preach to people. He would say things like: “Don’t you hear the voices of your wailing parents?” But his most famous slogan was: “When the coin in the coffer rings, the soul from purgatory springs.”
This set something off in Luther’s mind. Michael Reeves calls Luther “God’s Volcano.” And it was Tetzel that would set him off. He couldn’t believe that indulgences could be sold for money to build expensive buildings for the Pope. And so, on All Hallow’s Eve, the night before the Roman Catholic church would honor all the saints, October 31, 1517, he made a list of 95 Problems he had with the Roman Catholic church, and nailed it to the church door in Wittenberg. We often think this was an act of dramatic, popular protest. It wasn’t - the church door was the town bulletin board. He wanted a discussion about the selling of indulgences.
What’s interesting is that when Martin Luther posted the 95 Theses, he had not yet rediscovered the biblical gospel. He knew something was wrong, but he didn’t know what was right. He was still stuck in the works-based system. And he began to grow more and more convinced that God actually hated him. And he began to admit that he hated God.
# 3 The Discovery. Luther began to study Romans in the original language. And I want you to turn to the passage that lit him up. Romans 1:17. “For in it [the gospel] the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith, as it is written, ‘The righteous shall live by faith.’”
Here’s how Luther understood this passage. The word “righteousness” in Greek is the same word for justice. And Luther had always understood the verse to be referring to God’s active justice by which he punishes sin. So when he read it, to him it meant, “For in the gospel, the sin-punishing judgment of God is revealed from faith to faith.” And Luther hated the righteousness of God, because he knew that he was a sinner who deserved punishment.
But he couldn’t quite grasp what it meant that the “righteous shall live by faith.” And so he would, alone, in Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany, meditate and ponder and wrestle with this single verse. He became obsessed with it. But then something remarkable happened.
I’ll let Luther tell it in his own words: Though I lived as a monk without reproach, I felt that I was a sinner before God with an extremely disturbed conscience. I could not believe that he was placated by my satisfaction. I did not love, yes, I hated the righteous God who punishes sinners, and secretly, if not blasphemously, certainly murmuring greatly, I was angry with God, and said, "As if, indeed, it is not enough, that miserable sinners, eternally lost through original sin, are crushed by every kind of calamity by the law of the decalogue, without having God add pain to pain by the gospel and also by the gospel threatening us with his righteousness and wrath!" Thus I raged with a fierce and troubled conscience. Nevertheless, I beat importunately upon Paul at that place, most ardently desiring to know what St. Paul wanted.
At last, by the mercy of God, meditating day and night, I gave heed to the context of the words, namely, "In it the righteousness of God is revealed, as it is written, 'He who through faith is righteous shall live.'" There I began to understand that the righteousness of God is that by which the righteous lives by a gift of God, namely by faith. And this is the meaning: the righteousness of God is revealed by the gospel, namely, the passive righteousness with which merciful God justifies us by faith, as it is written, "He who through faith is righteous shall live."
In other words, he came to grasp the central truth of the Reformation: that a sinner is justified not because they accrue a righteousness by participating in the church, the sacraments, adoring the saints, accessing the treasury of merits, confessing to a priest - no. None of those things. A sinner is declared righteous through faith. God gives the sinner Jesus’ righteousness.
“Here I felt that I was altogether born again and had entered paradise itself through open gates.”
I want us to see this truth in another text. Galatians 2:15-16 “We ourselves are Jews by birth and not Gentile sinners; 16 yet we know that a person is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ, so we also have believed in Christ Jesus, in order to be justified by faith in Christ and not by works of the law, because by works of the law no one will be justified.”
Let me unpack this very quick, because it shows the heart of what Luther discovered, and what the heart of the reformation was. Two simple points.
Point # 1: Good works cannot justify anyone.
“We ourselves are Jews by birth and not Gentile sinners” Paul is saying that he’s a Jew, that is, he was born into God’s chosen people, he was born into a society that kept the law, he was circumcised right on time, he was highly educated. And because of all the right things he was, you might think that meant God had accepted him.
Verse 16: “Yet we know that a person is not justified by works.” We will all stand before the judge one day, and we will either be deemed righteous or unrighteous. The righteous will enter the kingdom of God, and the unrighteous will be condemned.
How can you know if you have that righteous status? Some Jews of Paul’s day, and the Catholic church of Luther’s day, and even Luther himself, had become convinced that the way one attained righteousness before God was through works. You participate in the Mass. You confess your sins. You bank on the treasury of merit. You pray to the saints. You climb the Scala Sancta.
Paul says, “No one is justified by works.” Luther’s commentary on this section goes like this: With Paul we absolutely deny the possibility of self merit. God never yet gave to any person grace and everlasting life as a reward for merit. The opinions of the papists are the intellectual pipe-dreams of idle pates, that serve no other purpose but to draw men away from the true worship of God. The papacy is founded upon hallucinations.
If you read the Reformers, they can’t help taking jabs at the pope whenever they get a chance. It’s sometimes quite funny.
No one is made righteous by their works. All our attempts at becoming righteous are in vain. Even if you had all the best works in the world, even if you’re the most upstanding person to have ever lived, even if you’re a hero, a moral masterpiece, our good works simply cannot justify. Isaiah says that all our good works are like filthy rags. They can’t justify.
In fact, Paul says later in verse 21 that if justification is by the law-keeping, then we nullify grace and the cross is meaningless. No works, no merit, no law-keeping, no deeds justify.
Point # 2: People are Justified by faith in Jesus Christ. Paul is making an incredible claim. You are not saved by being good, but by resting entirely on the merit of Christ. Faith in Jesus, that is, the full embrace of who Jesus is and what he has done for sinners in his death, burial, and resurrection, is all a person needs to get the righteousness required for heaven.
You could put it this way: salvation is a gift for the guilty, not a reward for the righteous. It’s not for those who work for it, it’s for those who stop working for it, and put their faith wholly in Jesus who alone will save them.
Luther’s Galatians commentary again: The true way of salvation is this. First, a person must realize that he is a sinner, the kind of a sinner who is congenitally unable to do any good thing. "Whatsoever is not of faith, is sin." Those who seek to earn the grace of God by their own efforts are trying to please God with sins. They mock God, and provoke His anger. The first step on the way to salvation is to repent.
The 2nd part is this. God sent His only-begotten Son into the world that we may live through His merit. He was crucified and killed for us. By sacrificing His Son for us God revealed Himself to us as a merciful Father who donates remission of sins, righteousness, and life everlasting for Christ's sake. God hands out His gifts freely unto all men. That is the praise and glory of His mercy.
Ah. Justified by faith alone. By faith I get remission of sins, I get Christ’s righteousness, I get everlasting life. And that flew in the face of the entire world in which he lived.
# 4 The Confrontation. Luther so deeply grasped the significance of this that he was willing to stand alone and defy the popes, bishops, priests, councils, and edicts.
It’s like it suddenly clarified everything for Luther. Christ is the head of the church, not the pope. Scripture is the final authority, not the tradition of the church. And if we are saved by the merits of Christ, there’s no such thing as a treasury of merits. And if Christ’s atonement is complete, why do we keep re-sacrificing Jesus in the Mass?
And here’s a big one: If Jesus’ death was full atonement for sin, then why would anyone trusting Jesus need to be concerned about purgatory?
Well, Luther began writing books and tracts and articles like a madman. He preached around 120 times a year, which is roughly once every three days. In 1520 he wrote 120 works, and eventually, his teachings caught the attention of the pope.
Luther was inevitably heading toward a conflict with the Church. Finally, in the summer of 1520, the pope issued what they call a “bull,” that is a papal edict. And describe Luther like a wild-boar ruining the Lord’s vineyard. And it gave Luther 60 days to repent or be excommunicated.
How did he respond to the bull? He burned it. In public. And it sent a shockwave through Europe. One historian writes, “It is scarcely possible for us in the twentieth century to imagine the thrill that went through Germany, and indeed through all Europe, when the news spread that a poor monk had burnt the Pope’s Bull.”
So the next year he was summoned to the Diet of Worms. The poor monk Luther was brought forward, and all his hundreds of books were set before him. Luther was then asked if he would retract his teachings. His response was epic, and has become the stuff of legends: He said,
“Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason (for I do not trust either in the pope or in councils alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves), I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted, and my conscience is captive to the word of God. I cannot and I will not recant anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience. I cannot do otherwise, here I stand, may God help me. Amen.”
And that’s where Protestantism was born. Luther’s whole life was lived articulating, explaining, defending, and working out the implications of the reality of justification by faith alone. This new discovery lit up Europe. I can read the Bible myself? I can come directly to Jesus? I can know that he forgives me sin? I can rest my head on the pillow without being worried about centuries upon centuries of torment when I die? Yes! You can entrust yourself entirely to Jesus!
Many years later, in 1546, when Luther was on his deathbed, he was surrounded by some friends and colaborers. He was asked a question: “Are you ready to die trusting in your Lord Jesus Christ and to confess the doctrine which you have taught in his name?”
It’s as if everyone is standing on the edge of a cliff, and far below is a net, but no one yet has jumped to see if the net will hold. And someone says to Luther, are you sure yuo are willing to entrust yourself entirely to the net? “Are you ready to die trusting in your Lord Jesus Christ and to confess the doctrine which you have taught in his name?”
Yes, was his clear, unhesitating answer. About this moment, Michael Reeves writes, “Soon after, he took his last breath. There was no priest present, there were no sacraments administered, and no last confession was made. Instead there was simple confidence before God. It was all testimony to how his teaching had changed things.”
In other words, he renounced all other works, all other merits, all other hopes, and rested his eternity on Jesus Christ.
Oh sinner, you can do the same, just as we have. We don’t trust ourselves, our works, our merit, our rituals, our religion, our pedigree, our family, our intelligence, our nobility. We trust in Christ alone. And when we stand at death’s door, we will face eternity banking everything on Jesus Christ.
The Lord’s Supper
We now have the privilege to take the Lord’s Supper. We are not, in this moment, re-sacrificing Jesus. No, his sacrifice was complete, and his work was finished on the cross. We participate this morning in remembrance of what he did.
But who should partake? Some Christians believe that if they feel convicted over their sin, they should not participate. Christian, this is not a good reason to participate. The Lord’s Supper is not for those who feel good about their spiritual success. It’s for those who know their spiritual failures, and in humble repentance, are trusting Christ’s full atonement. If you feel sorrow for your failures and your sin, come, and eat, and personalize these words: “This is my body, broken for you.” And “your sins are forgiven.”
Other Christians feel they shouldn’t participate if they’re not feeling it. They’re simply distracted, unfocused, and unable to honor the table as they ought. I don’t believe this is a good reason to refrain. The table is meant to help the distracted sinner, it’s meant to grab hold of all his senses, and help him focus on the gospel. If you’ve been distracted, use this time to let Christ grab your attention as he ministers to you through his sacred meal.
In other words, the Table is for sinners. But not all sinners - repentant sinners. If you are a repentant sinner, and have made your repentance visible in baptism, Jesus invites you to share a meal with him, he wants you to remember his great love, how his body was broken for you, how his blood was shed for you, and he wants you to sense the fullness of security in his care.
As Michael plays, go ahead and get the elements and return to your seats.
A few brief lessons from his life.
First, Scripture must always be our authority. Christ is the head of the church, and he mediates his rule through his word, and if his word is displaced by popes, bishops, priests, or traditions - or in our day, fads, trends, techniques, and other forms of pragmatism, we will lose the gospel.
Second, Scripture is powerful. Listen to Luther, later in his life reflecting on how the Reformation got started: “Take myself as an example. I opposed indulgences and all the papists, but never with force. I simply taught, preached, and wrote God’s Word; otherwise I did nothing. And while I slept, or drank Wittenberg beer with my friends Philipp and Amsdorf, the Word so greatly weakened the papacy that no prince or emperor ever inflicted such losses upon it. I did nothing; the Word did everything.”
Third, doctrine matters. The Reformation was fundamentally a clash of doctrines. Theology proper, bibliology, Christology, hamartiology, soteriology, ecclesiology. One of the outcomes of the reformation was this Latin cry: “Ecclesia semper reformanda est.” The church must always be reformed. The idea is that the church must always be letting Scripture be reshaping and reforming it.
Last, you can know for sure that you are saved! This is why the Reformation was like a long-awaited sunrise after a dark, cold night. The corrupt system of works-righteousness made people constantly afraid of judgment and punishment. There was no assurance that you could die and go to heaven. Even if you were trusting Christ, there would be thousands, maybe millions of years suffering in purgatory. Luther revealed that the gospel is free, that it’s a message about grace, and justification is complete and final because it’s based on the righteousness of Christ! You can know for sure you’re going to heaven!