“Having a Form of Godliness, but Denying the Power Thereof: From Such Turn Away.” 2 Timothy 3:5
Luther imagined Rome to be a most holy city. It was necessary for him to see it, and he visited it in 1510.
There was a difference of opinion between Staupitz and seven of the Augustine convents, and Luther was chosen to lay the matter before the Pope.
He set out, crossed the Alps and descended into the plains of Italy. At every step he found subjects of astonishment and scandal. He was entertained in a wealthy Italian convent of the Benedictines. When he saw the splendid apartments, the rich dresses, and the delicate food, he was confounded. Marble, silk, luxury in all its forms — what a sight for the humble brother of the poor convent of Wittenberg! Friday came — a fast day with Roman Catholics — but Luther saw the table with meat. He was shocked, and resolved to speak. “The Church and the Pope,” he said, “forbid such things.” The Benedictines were very angry, and the porter of the convent warned him that it would be dangerous to stay longer. He left this wealthy convent and went on to Bologna, where he became dangerously ill.
Recovered from his sickness, he proceeded on, and, after a toilsome journey under a burning Italian sun, he saw at length the seven-hilled city in the distance. Falling on his knees, he exclaimed: “Holy Rome, I salute thee!” But when he entered the city and saw the great wickedness on every hand, he felt that it was far from holy. He saw that the priests and high dignitaries of the Church made a mock of religion, or else performed their duties with haste and in a mechanical manner. On one occasion he was engaged in celebrating mass, when he found that the priests at an adjoining altar had repeated seven masses before he had finished one. Growing impatient, a priest cried out to him, “Make haste, make haste; have done with it quickly.”
Luther went to Rome a devout Papist, and at first gave himself up to all the superstitions of the Church. He visited the churches and chapels, he believed the falsehoods that were told him, he knelt before the shrines of the saints — he even wished that his parents were dead, so that by his good works he might have the pleasure of delivering their souls from purgatory. One day, wishing to obtain an indulgence, which the Pope had promised to all who should ascend on their knees what is called Pilate’s Staircase, he began slowly to crawl up those steps, when a voice like thunder seemed to speak from the bottom of his heart, “The just shall live by faith.” He started from his knees, and rushed from the spot ashamed of his superstitious folly.
Luther went to Rome, believing that city to be the holiest spot upon earth; he left it with the conviction, expressed in his own words: “No one can imagine what sins and infamous actions are committed in Rome; they must be seen and heard to be believed. Thus they are in the habit of saying, ‘If there be a hell, Rome is built over it’; it is an abyss whence issues every kind of sin.”
This visit was of great importance to Luther, and he afterward said, “If they would give me one hundred thousand florins I would not have missed seeing Rome.”
Having finished the business entrusted to him, he returned to Wittenberg.
The preaching of the young professor had made a deep impression on the Elector, and that prince, and also Staupitz, wished to advance him to yet higher honors. He was therefore made Doctor of Divinity, the Elector generously agreeing to pay all expenses. This was on October 19, 1512. He then solemnly promised to preach the Holy Scriptures faithfully, to teach them with purity, to study them all his life, and to defend them, both orally and in writing, against all false teachers, so far as God should give him ability.
Nobly Luther kept his vow, and not only in the University classes, and in the church, did he preach the gospel, but among private friends he was always anxious to lead them to trust in Jesus and Him crucified.
About this time he became acquainted with George Spalatin, secretary and chaplain to the Elector, a man of great worth, to whom Luther became much attached. Through his hands passed all the business between the reformer and the Elector.
In 1516, Staupitz was sent by Frederick into the Low Countries to collect relics; and Luther was appointed to take his place during his absence, and in particular to visit the convents in his stead.
Among others, he came to the monastery at Erfurt where he had once wound the clock, opened the gates, and swept the church. He was now visiting it as the vicar-general, and we know that he tried to comfort many hearts. He urged the monks to lay aside their books of philosophy and to study the Word of God. Many of the Augustine monks afterward became faithful preachers of the gospel, and so much good followed from this journey that the year in which it took place has been called “the morning star of the Reformation.” He returned to Wittenberg after an absence of about six weeks.
About this time the plague broke out in that town. Many fled, but Luther remained. “You advise me to flee,” he wrote to a friend: “whither shall I flee? If the pestilence spreads, I shall disperse the brothers in every direction; but as for me, my place is here; duty does not permit me to desert my post until He who has called me shall summon me away. Not that I have no fear of death, but I hope that the Lord will deliver me from fear.”
Such was the brave and faithful man who was to attack the giant power of Rome with the sword of the Spirit, the Word of God. As yet, he was full of respect for the Pope and the Romish religion.
Staupitz returned with a valuable supply of relics, and the Elector, greatly pleased, thought to make him a bishop. Luther, who was bold in the presence of the terrible plague, was also bold before the mighty of this world. He wrote to Spalatin telling him that it was wrong, and saying: “There are many things which please your prince, and which nevertheless are displeasing to God.”
In July, 1517, he preached before Duke George of Saxony, in whose States Dresden and Leipsic were situated. The sermon gave great offense to the Duke and his Court, but was made a blessing to a lady of high rank, who, a month afterward, died trusting in Jesus.
O Christ! He is the fountain,
The deep, sweet well of love;
The streams on earth I’ve tasted,
More deep I’ll drink above;
There to an ocean fullness,
His mercy doth expand,
And glory — glory dwelleth
In Emmanuel’s land.