p. 19 | The Publication of Luther’s Theses

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Apr 28, 1910

The Publication of Luther’s Theses

THE day on which the monk of Wittenberg posted up his “Theses,” occupies a distinguished place among the great days of history. It marks a new and grander starting-point in religion and liberty. The propositions of Luther preached to all Christendom that God does not sell pardon, but bestows it as a free gift on the ground of the death of his Son; the “Theses,” in short, were an echo of the song sung by the angels on the plain of Bethlehem fifteen centuries before: “On earth peace, good will toward men.”

Luther acted without plan—so he himself afterward confessed. His arm would have been unnerved, and the hammer would have fallen from his grasp, had he been told that its strokes would not merely scare away Tetzel and break up the market at Juterbock, but would resound through Christendom, and centuries after he had gone to his grave, would be sending back their echoes in the fall of hierarchies, and in the overthrow of that throne before which Luther was still disposed to bow as the seat of the Vicar of Christ.

Luther’s eye did not extend to these remote countries and times; he looked only at what was before him—the professors and students of the university; his flock in Wittenberg in danger of being ensnared; the crowd of pilgrims assembled to earn an indulgence—and to the neighboring towns and parts of Germany. These he hoped to influence.

But far beyond these modest limits was spread the fame of Luther’s “Theses.” They contained truth, and truth is light, and light must necessarily diffuse itself, and penetrate the darkness on every side. The “Theses” were found to be as applicable to Christendom as to Wittenberg, and as hostile to the great indulgence-market at Rome as to the little one at Juterbock. Now was seen the power of that instrumentality which God had prepared beforehand for this emergency—the printing-press. Copied with the hand, how slowly would these propositions have traveled, and how limited the number of persons who would have read them! But the printing-press, multiplying copies, sowed them like snowflakes over Saxony. Other printing-presses set to work, till speedily there was not a country in Europe where the “Theses” of the monk of Wittenberg were not as well known as in Saxony.

The moment of their publication was singularly opportune; pilgrims from all the surrounding states were then assembled at Wittenberg. Instead of buying an indulgence, they bought Luther’s “Theses,” not one, but many copies, and carried them in their wallets to their own homes. In a fortnight these propositions were circulated over all Germany. They were translated into Dutch, and read in Holland; they were rendered into Spanish, and studied in the cities and universities of the Iberian peninsula. In a month they had made the tour of Europe. “It seemed,” to use the words of Myconius, “as if the angels had been carriers.” Copies were offered for sale in Jerusalem. In four short weeks Luther’s tract had become a household book, and his name a household word in all Europe.

The “Theses” were the one topic of conversation everywhere—in all circles, and in all sorts of places. They were discussed by the learned in the universities, and by the monks in their cells. In the market-place, in the shop, and in the tavern, men paused and talked together of the bold act and the new doctrine of the monk of Wittenberg. A copy was procured and read by Leo X in the Vatican.

The very darkness of the age helped to extend the circulation and the knowledge of the “Theses.” The man who kindles a bonfire on a mountain top by day will have much to do to attract the eyes of even a single parish. He who kindles his signal amid the darkness of night will arouse a whole kingdom. This last was what Luther had done. He had lighted a great fire in the midst of the darkness of Christendom, and far and wide over distant realms was diffused the splendor of that light; and men, opening their eyes on the sudden illumination that was brightening the sky, hailed the new dawn.—J. A. Wylie, “History of Protestantism,” pages 266, 267.