The evening of October 31, 1517, was typically crisp and cool in the insignificant German town of Wittenburg as a black-garbed Augustinian monk privately made his way to the Castle Church. No neophyte this friar: he had an earned Doctorate of Theology, was an ordained priest in the strictest of Roman Catholic orders, and had lectured for five years on Bible subjects. With swift, determined strokes, he nailed a logically constructed, yet grossly inflammatory document, to the church door. His action was not dramatic, simply the normal method of inviting debate. But within a fortnight, all of Europe was echoing the sound of his hammer. A month later, its hardly audible taps had become sledge hammer blows to the citadel of the Roman Catholic Church. For this priest was none other than Martin Luther; and his document written in Latin, the Ninety-five Theses. His first fusillade against Rome was launched and the Reformation had begun.

Europe was ripe for reformation. The rapacity and degeneracy of the Papacy fueled the winds of reform stirred earlier by the teachings of Wycliff in England, Hus in Bohemia, the Brethren of the Common Life along the Rhine, and Savonarola on the Italian peninsula.

The Papal Schism (1378-1418) was not that far removed that it was forgotten: the ludicrous spectacle of two and, at times, three popes anathematizing one another made mockery of papal claims for unity and uninterrupted succession. Moreover, the widespread exposé of two medieval forgeries, the Pseudo-Isidorian Decretals and the Donation of Constantine, surreptitiously designed to bolster Papal claims, made for more mockery of the institution. The vindictive execution of John Hus and the senseless burning of the exhumed bones of John Wycliff upon the orders of the Council of Constance (1414) served as grim reminders in every university of the diabolical powers of a secularized church.

And how could the Papacy hide the fact of its own involvement in simony, rapacity, pluralism (the holding of multiple church offices), and absenteeism. The pope concurrent with Luther, Leo X (1513-1521) of the notorious Medici family, received the tonsure as a boy of seven, was made archbishop at eight, and cardinal-deacon at thirteen. He was also a canon in three cathedrals, rector in six parishes, prior in three convents, abbot in thirteen additional abbeys, and the bishop of Almalfi… AND HE DERIVED REVENUES FROM THEM ALL!¹ What a target for Luther and the Reformers! How could they miss! 

But in the Reform to come, the axe would be laid to the root. Moral reform was not its object. Moral reform is no substitute for doctrinal reform; in fact, true moral reform cannot be realized apart from doctrinal reform. The guns of the reformers would target two major issues: what is the church and how is one saved. And for their authority, they turn to the Scriptures. The structure of the medieval church would be shattered by their insistence that doctrine and practice be based solely upon the authority of God’s Word; not on tradition, popes, or church councils. Sola Scriptura is the common cry of Martin Luther, Ulrich Zwingli, John Calvin, and lesser-known Anabaptists like Conrad Grebel and Felix Manz.

Every reformer named in this article was originally part of that system. Luther and Zwingli were ordained priests. Melanchthon, Calvin, Grebel, and Manz were university trained humanists in the Erasmian mold (as was Zwingli): all of their academic pursuits were under priests who were thoroughly catholicized; Roman Catholicized.

My interest in this article is to demonstrate that by returning to the Scriptures, particularly in their origninal languages (Hebrew and Greek), all came to the same basic conclusion as to how a sinful member of the human race can be just or right before God: that is, by grace alone (sola gracia), through faith alone (sola fide), through Christ alone (sola Christo). And might I add – without the church alone! Sola fide, sola Christo, sola gracia, sola scriptura, were the common denominators of the Reformers.

Wittenberg at this time was an insignificant village of only 2,000 to 2,500 inhabitants. The whole length of the town was only nine-tenths of a mile. The river Elbe flowed on one side and a moat surrounded the town on the other. Its name was taken from the fact that it was built on a sand belt, hence "White Hillock," Witten-Berg.

The chief glory of the village was the university built by Frederick the Wise, the Elector of Saxony, who would later become a protector of Luther. Frederick sought in this newly founded academy to rival the prestige of the century-old University of Leipzig, and under this impetus in 1511 invited three new professors to join the faculty. One of them was Martin Luther.

Quartered in a tower of the Augustinian monastery, Luther set about early to learn and teach the Scriptures. In 1513, he lectured on the Psalms. Psalm 22, which begins, "My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?" was particularly gripping. Luther tells that the alienation from God that Christ, the unique Son of God, experienced at Calvary when God placed the sins of the world upon him was similar to the rejection that Luther was experiencing in his relationship with God. Christ had suffered what Luther had suffered, or more accurately, Luther was beginning to be stirred by the real meaning of Christ’s sufferings on the cross. "Why should Christ have suffered?" reasoned the young Monk, "That I should suffer is reasonable, for I am a sinner; but he was the sinless Son of God. What is the full significance of his rejection by God?"

Read it in his own words:

These new insights became the fountainhead, the well spring, of Luther’s theology. The salient ideas presented in his lectures on Psalms and Romans would be refined and developed as his theology matured, but the key issues of absolute forgiveness through the unmerited grace of God made possible by the redemptive work of Christ on the cross remain the heart of what he taught and believed. Luther had discovered the truth of the Pauline doctrine of justification by faith alone in Christ alone. In turn, it becomes the chief doctrine of his theology.

The degree to which one’s theology is accurately related to solid exegesis of scripture is the degree of its accuracy. In other words, accurate theology is totally dependent on accurate exegesis of God’s Word. Luther’s accurate study of God’s Word led him to a biblical, hence true, understanding of justification. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of his understanding of baptism.

Infant or pedo-baptism is nowhere found in the Bible. Luke, the writer of the book of Acts, clearly demonstrates the place of water baptism in the preaching of the Apostles (including Paul); for he informs us that every person in Acts who heard and believed the gospel got baptized. But they did so because they were saved, not in order to get saved. Moreover, the only persons baptized were believers: children to be baptized had to first believe the gospel. Obviously, this excluded babies.

The Magisterial Reformers (Luther, Zwingli, Calvin) all fall short in this regard. None reject the baptism of babies despite its lack of scriptural support. Of the three, Luther’s ideas are closest to the Roman Catholic doctrine of baptismal regeneration. Zwingli and Calvin regarded water baptism as a sign and seal of covenant promises and potential regeneration. But this is not the only doctrine carried over from Roman Catholicism. All three took on the spurious doctrine of amillennialism; all three promoted the idea of state churches, just as did their Roman counterpart. Of the reformers, only the anabaptists totally rejected infant baptism. They saw the church as an absolute, voluntary assembly that must have no identity with the state; and, as opposed to amillennialism, accepted the scriptural teaching of the premillennial second advent of Jesus Christ.

Back to Luther’s doctrine of baptism. In his famous tract (one of three written in 1520) The Babylonian Captivity of the Church, this beloved Reformer gives evidence that his theology had developed in many areas. Under attack is the sacramental system of the Roman Church by which she controlled the Christian from the cradle to the grave. He writes of Rome’s perversion of the Lord’s Table and then expresses his views on water baptism: the other five Roman sacraments he totally rejects. My point is that by 1520 Luther had stated his understanding of water baptism, and it is very similar to that of Romanism. This conflicts with justification by faith.

In 1529, at the behest of Philip of Hesse who was attempting to reconcile the positions of Luther and Zwingli, Luther drew up fifteen articles as a basis of discussion at the famous Colloquy at Marburg. On the failure of this conference, these were revised as the Articles of Schwabach and became the basis of Lutheran doctrine. In 1530, they were expanded by Melancthon into the Confession of Augsburg at the request of Emperor Charles V in view of a Diet he was to summon. Thus, by 1530, we have a written doctrinal statement of Luther and his followers.

"Of Justification," Article IV of The Augsburg Confession reads:

So far so good: every Reformer would agree to this statement on justification. But included in The Augsburg Confession is the following statement on baptism (Article IX):

The conflict between these two statements is obvious: to be justified by faith in the work of Christ requires faith alone in Christ alone on the part of the one being justified. How can baptism then be necessary to salvation? And how can babies have faith? Justification by faith categorically excludes water baptism.

Luther was challenged about this and here is one of his responses:

Luther sounds consistent. It is in his defense of infant baptism that his consistency breaks down and confusion is introduced into his doctrine of soteriology (salvation). Lutheranism eventually succumbs to Arminianism wherein the Believer has no security. If one can be saved today and lost tomorrow, then justification by faith loses its significance.

Martin Luther was a trailblazer, the pioneer of a biblicism that swept Europe in the early part of the sixteenth century which eventually shattered the citadel of Roman Catholicism. By translating the Scriptures into German, he brought the Word of God within reach of the common man and even paved the way for the educational process that would enable him to read God’s Word. His courageous stand at the Council of Worms, bolstered by his confidence in the Word of God, led others to follow. We still thrill at his dynamic and brave conclusion before his royal and ecclesiastical accusers who held his fate in their hands:

I salute Dr. Martin Luther for blazing the trail that eventually led to a return to the Scriptures as the final authority for faith and practice for believers.

Ron Merryman served the Lord in Bible colleges for 11 years, 3 of those as Acting President of Western Bible College. He also pastored Holly Hills Bible Church in Denver, Colorado, for 14 years. Ron currently teaches in the G.I.B.S., a ministry of Duluth Bible Church.