MARTIN LUTHER, the son of a poor miner of Mansfeldt, found peace with God in his early twenties. At the age of eighteen, in 1501, he entered the university of Erfurt, where he out-stripped his fellow-students immediately. Even at that time he could easily have passed before men as a true Christian. He appears to have felt his dependence upon God in everything. His habit was to begin each day with prayer, after which he attended church, and only then did he begin his studies, which he prosecuted diligently all the day without intermission.
It was here at Erfurt, after two years, that Luther for the first time saw a Bible. He dis-covered it in the university library, and on opening its pages he was filled with astonishment. He had, before this, supposed that the prayer-books of the Church contained the whole word of God. But when he turned over the leaves of this complete Latin Bible, his feelings were indescribable. He read and read again, with ever-increasing wonder, and from that day it was to him the Book of all other books the university or even the world possessed. In the language of the Book itself, be " rejoiced " at God's word, "as one that findeth great spoil."
During the course of this same year, young Luther was seized with a dangerous illness. Death stared him in the face, and he was brought to see his unfitness for an event fraught with consequences so solemn. He recovered, however, and, resuming his studies, was made a doctor of philosophy in 1505. According to his father's wishes, he applied himself to the study of law, and began to teach in the university. But all this time, his conscience, enlightened by his meagre knowledge of Scripture, incessantly reminded him of the one thing needful, even the salvation of his burdened soul. He resolved, at last, to make this the one great business of his life, and was confirmed in his resolution by two striking events following each other.
One morning a report reached him that one of his most intimate college friends, named Alexis, had been assassinated. Hurrying to the spot, he learned to his horror that the report was true. Deeply affected, he asked himself, "What would become of me if I were thus suddenly called away ? "
During the summer of 1505, on returning from a visit to the home of his childhood, he was overtaken by a violent thunder-storm, a short distance out of Erfurt. Suddenly, there was a flash and a crash—a thunder-bolt had sunk into the ground at his feet. Luther fell upon his knees in anguish; death, judgment, and eternity rose up before him in all their attendant terrors, and he vowed solemnly before God, if delivered from death, to forsake the world and devote himself wholly to His service. This, according to his then popish ideas, meant to enter one of the various monastic orders.
He reached Erfurt in safety, and, true to his vow, he at once prepared to break the tender ties of family and friendship. After a last evening repast with some of his most intimate college friends, he quietly quitted his lodgings, leaving behind him his books and his furniture, and, alone in the darkness, presented himself at the gate of the convent of the Hermits of St. Augustine. Proud of such an acquisition to their ranks, the monks admitted him gladly. Luther, not yet two and twenty, is buried, as he thinks, to the world and all its evils. The ring he had received from the university when made a doctor of philosophy, he returned, and applied himself hopefully to the most menial work about the convent. He was at once porter, sexton, man-of-all-work, and beggar for the monastery. With his bread-bag on his back he was obliged to go from door to door about the town of Erfurt. But what is servitude and beggary to a man who seeks the salvation of his soul, esteems it above all things on earth, and seeks to obtain it by self-mortification and good works ? " This, he thought, was the way to attain to that humility and holiness which he hoped would fit him for heaven, and at last obtain everlasting happiness.
After a time, at the request of the university, he was released from his menial offices, and the young monk gave himself to the study of the Latin fathers, especially the works of St. Augustine. There was a chained Bible also in the monastery, and to this Luther frequently resorted ; though, the veil being still upon his heart, he understood nothing of the spirit of it as he read the letter.
It would prolong our narrative beyond bounds to go over in detail what Luther voluntarily endured in the monastery. His vigils, fastings and studies, brought him at last to death's door. But still his burdened conscience found no relief. "I am a lost man," he used frequently to cry. He says, "I confessed every day ; but all that was of no use. Then, over-whelmed with dejection, I distressed myself by the multitude of my thoughts. See, said I to myself, thou art envious, impatient, passionate ; therefore, wretch that thou art, it is of no use to thee to have entered into this holy order."
At length, when so reduced by his austerities that one might have almost counted his bones, his case came under the notice of John Staupitz, the superior of the Augustinian order. This good man had himself passed through a course of "will-worship and humility and neglecting of the body" (Col. 2: 23), similar to Luther's, and had obtained peace at last by simple faith in Christ, God's only Saviour. So he understood the poor, half-starved monk thoroughly, and attempted to draw him out of himself and his works to trust in Christ and His atoning sacrifice.
"It is vain," complained Luther, "that I make promises to God ; sin is always too strong for me."
"Oh, my friend," replied the vicar-general, "I have vowed to the holy God more than a thou-sand times that I would live a holy life, and never have I kept my vow. I now make no more vows ; for I know well I shall not keep them.
If God will not be merciful to me for Christ's sake, and grant me a happy death when I leave this world, I cannot with all my vows and good works stand before Him ; I must then perish."
When Luther expressed to him some of the legal reasonings of his mind, he said, "But why do you distress yourself with these speculations and high thoughts ? Look to the wounds of Jesus Christ, to the blood which He has shed for you ; it is there you will see the mercy of God. Instead of torturing yourself for your faults, cast yourself into the arms of your Redeemer. Trust in Him, in the expiatory sacrifice of His death. Do not shrink from Him ; God is not against you ; it is you who are estranged and averse to God."
Much more his venerable guide said to him. These instructions, with the Scriptures, which Luther now read in a new light, helped him much in understanding God's "simple, artless, unencumbered plan" of saving sinners.
The light, however, did not come instantaneously. He still had to pass through much exercise ere obtaining solid, abiding peace. "Oh, my sin ! my sin my sin I " he groaned one day in the presence of Stanpitz. "Well, would you be only the semblance of a sinner, and have only the semblance of a Saviour? " was the wise reply. "Know," continued the vicar-general, "that Jesus Christ is the Saviour of those even who are real and great sinners, and deserving of utter condemnation."
The young Augustinian obtained settled re-pose for his conscience in the second year at the convent He lay very sick and almost in despair when an old monk visited his cell to speak with him. Luther told him all, and the old man repeated this article of the so-called Apostle's Creed : "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." "I believe," repeated Luther, "I believe in the remission of sins." "Ah," said the aged monk, "you must not only believe that David's or Peter's sins are forgiven ; the devils believe that. The commandment of God is that all men believe that sins are remitted to them."
"From that moment," says D'Aubigné, "the light shone into the heart of the young monk of Erfurt. The word of grace was pronounced, and he believed it. He renounced the thought of meriting salvation, and trusted himself with confidence to God's grace in Christ Jesus.
"Luther did not at once perceive the consequence of the principle he admitted ; he was still sincerely attached to the Church of Rome, and yet he was, thenceforward, independent of it ; for he had received salvation from God Him-self, and Roman Catholicism was virtually extinct to him. From that hour Luther went forward ; he sought in the writings of the apostles and prophets for all that might strengthen the hope which filled his heart. Every day he implored help from above, and every day new light was imparted to his soul."
There is little more to add. It should be remarked, however, that unlike Peter Waldo, Luther did not arrive at an understanding of God's gospel without assistance from man ; the former obtained light immediately from the Holy Scriptures, without assistance from others. Scripture itself abounds with instances of these "diversities" of the Spirit's "operations." Christ is the end, aim, and object of all. He is the only Saviour from sin and sin's consequences; and if the sinner but learns this in his soul, it matters little whether he obtained this knowledge from the Scriptures directly, or indirectly by the assistance of others. Our Lord, in His wondrous prayer, mentions those who should believe on Him through His disciples' word (John 17: 20).
Make it your care to believe on Him, dear reader, to the saving of your soul. His word of encouragement to every sin-burdened soul is : "FEAR NOT; ONLY BELIEVE."