On April 26, 1521, Luther left Worms. Ominous clouds obscured his path. But when he stepped out of the city gate, his heart was filled with joy and praise. 'Satan himself,' he said, 'defended the Pope's stronghold; but Christ has made a wide breach. The devil had to admit that the Messiah is mightier.«

"The conflict in Worms," ​​writes a friend of the reformer, "moved people near and far. As the report of it spread through Europe - to Scandinavia, the Swiss Alps, the cities of England, France and Italy - many eagerly took up the mighty weapons in God's Word."

Departure from Worms: Loyal with one caveat

At ten o'clock Luther left town with the friends who had accompanied him to Worms. Twenty mounted men and a large crowd escorted the carriage to the walls.

On the return journey from Worms, he decided to write to the Kaiser again because he didn't want to appear as a guilty rebel. "God is my witness; he knows the thoughts,' he said. “I am wholeheartedly willing to obey Your Majesty, in honor or shame, in life or death, with one caveat: when it goes against God's quickening Word. In all business matters of life you have my unbreakable loyalty; for here loss or gain has nothing to do with salvation. But it is against God's will to submit to human beings in matters of eternal life. Spiritual obedience is genuine worship and should be reserved for the Creator.”

He also sent a letter with almost the same content to the imperial states, in which he summarized what was happening in Worms. This letter made a deep impression on the Germans. They saw that Luther had been very unfairly treated by the emperor and the higher clergy, and they were greatly indignant at the arrogant pretensions of the papacy.

Had Charles V recognized the real value to his kingdom of a man like Luther—a man who could not be bought or sold, who would not sacrifice his principles for friend or foe—he would have valued and honored him rather than condemned him and to shun.

Raid as a rescue operation

Luther traveled home, receiving homage from all walks of life along the way. Church dignitaries welcomed the monk under papal curse, and secular officials honored the man under imperial ban. He decided to deviate from the direct route to visit Mora, his father's birthplace. His friend Amsdorf and a carter accompanied him. The rest of the group continued to Wittenberg. After a peaceful day's rest with his relatives - what a contrast to the turmoil and strife in Worms - he resumed his journey.

As the carriage passed through a ravine, the travelers met five well-armed, masked horsemen. Two grabbed Amsdorf and the carter, the other three Luther. Silently they forced him to dismount, threw a knight's cloak over his shoulders and put him on an extra horse. Then they let Amsdorf and the carter go. All five jumped into the saddles and disappeared into the dark forest with the prisoner.

They made their way along winding paths, sometimes forwards, sometimes backwards, in order to escape any pursuer. At nightfall they took a new route and advanced quickly and silently through dark, almost untrodden forests to the mountains of Thuringia. Here the Wartburg was enthroned on a summit that could only be reached by a steep and difficult ascent. Luther was brought into the walls of this remote fortress by his captors. The heavy gates closed behind him, hiding him from view and knowledge of the outside world.

The reformer had not fallen into enemy hands. A guard had watched his movements, and when the storm threatened to break upon his defenseless head, a true and noble heart rushed to his rescue. It was clear that Rome would be content only with his death; only a hiding place could save him from the claws of the lion.

After Luther's departure from Worms, the papal legate had obtained an edict against him with the emperor's signature and the imperial seal. In this imperial decree, Luther was denounced as "Satan himself, disguised as a man in a monk's robe." It was ordered that his work be stopped by suitable measures. Giving him shelter, giving him food or drink, helping or supporting him by word or deed, publicly or privately, was strictly forbidden. He should be seized from anywhere and handed over to the authorities - the same applied to his followers. property was to be confiscated. His writings should be destroyed. Eventually, anyone who dared to violate this decree was to be banned from the Reich.

The Kaiser had spoken, the Reichstag had approved the decree. The whole congregation of Rome's followers rejoiced. Now the fate of the Reformation was sealed! The superstitious crowd shuddered at the Emperor's description of Luther as Satan incarnate in a monk's robe.

In this hour of peril, God made a way out for His servant. The Holy Spirit moved the heart of the Elector of Saxony and gave him wisdom for the plan to save Luther. Frederick had let the reformer know while still in Worms that his liberty might be sacrificed for a time for his security and that of the Reformation; but no indication had been given as to how. The elector's plan was implemented with the cooperation of real friends, and with so much tact and skill that Luther remained completely hidden from friends and enemies. Both his capture and his hiding place were so mysterious that for a long time even Frederick did not know where he had been taken. This was not without intention: as long as the elector knew nothing about Luther's whereabouts, he could not reveal anything. He had made sure the reformer was safe, and that was enough for him.

Retreat time and its benefits

Spring, summer, and fall passed, and winter came. Luther was still trapped. Aleander and his fellow party members rejoiced in having extinguished the gospel light. Instead, Luther filled his lamp from the inexhaustible store of truth, to shine forth with brighter brilliance in due course.

It was not only for his own safety that Luther was taken off the stage of public life according to God's providence. Rather, infinite wisdom triumphed over all circumstances and events due to deeper plans. It is not God's will that His work bear the stamp of one man. Other workers would be called to the front lines in Luther's absence to help balance the Reformation.

In addition, with every reformatory movement there is a danger that it will be shaped more humanly than divinely. For when one rejoices in the liberty that comes from the truth, one soon glorifies those whom God has appointed to break the chains of error and superstition. They are praised, praised and honored as leaders. Unless they are truly humble, devoted, selfless, and incorruptible, they begin to feel less dependent on God and begin to trust in themselves. They soon seek to manipulate minds and curb consciences, and come to see themselves as almost the only channel through which God sheds light on his church. The work of reform is often delayed by this fan spirit.

In the security of the Wartburg, Luther rested for a while and was happy about the distance from the hustle and bustle of the battle. From the castle walls he gazed at dark forests on all sides, then turned his eyes to the sky and exclaimed, 'Strange captivity! In captivity voluntarily and yet against my will!' 'Pray for me,' he writes to Spalatin. “I want nothing but your prayers. Don't bother me with what is said or thought about me in the world. Finally I can rest.«

The solitude and seclusion of this mountain retreat had another and more precious blessing for the reformer. So success didn't go to his head. Far was all human support, he was not showered with either sympathy or praise, which often lead to dire results. Although God should receive all praise and glory, Satan directs thoughts and feelings toward people who are merely God's instruments. He puts her in the center and distracts from the providence that controls all events.

Here lies a danger for all Christians. However much they may admire the noble, self-sacrificing deeds of God's faithful servants, God alone is to be glorified. All wisdom, ability and grace that man possesses he receives from God. All praise should go to him.

Increased productivity

Luther was not content with the peace and relaxation for long. He was used to a life of activity and argument. Inactivity was unbearable for him. In those lonely days he pictured the state of the Church. He felt that no one stood on the walls and built up Zion. Again he thought of himself. He feared he would be accused of cowardice if he retired from work, and he accused himself of being lazy and lazy. At the same time, he performed seemingly superhuman things every day. He writes: »I am reading the Bible in Hebrew and Greek. I would like to write a German treatise on auricular confession, I will also continue to translate the Psalms and compose a collection of sermons as soon as I have received what I want from Wittenberg. My pen never stops.”

While his enemies flattered themselves that he had been silenced, they marveled at the tangible evidence of his continued activity. A large number of treatises from his pen circulated throughout Germany. For almost a year, protected from the wrath of all adversaries, he admonished and censured the prevalent sins of his day.

He also rendered a most important service to his countrymen by translating the original text of the New Testament into German. In this way, the word of God could also be understood by the common people. You could now read all the words of life and truth for yourself. He was particularly successful in turning all eyes from the Pope in Rome to Jesus Christ, the Sun of Righteousness.

From Signs of the Times, 11. October 1883