Faith and Duty: Sermons on Free Texts, with Reference to the Church-Year

by L. B. Buchheimer

REFORMATION.

His foundation is in the holy mountains. The Lord loveth the gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob. Glorious things are spoken of thee, O city of God. Selah.—Ps. 87, 1-3.

The history of the Christian Church may be expressed in three words—Formation, Deformation, and Reformation. The first period begins with the story of the shepherds on Bethlehem's plains on Christmas night 1912 years ago, and ended with the establishment of the Church in cultured Europe and Asia and Africa.

As we pass the main occurrences of that first epoch of its formation, before our mind's eye, we see how the infant cause of Christ spreads from Jerusalem round about to the surrounding countries, conquering and to conquer. See how in her course of advancement she meets with opposition the fiercest and bloodiest; see how the blood of her children wets the sands of the amphitheater, and how their bones are crushed by the lions and wild animals of the arena, whilst the ashes of thousands of others strew the funeral pile upon which they died praying, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."

Those were the days of persecution, when the church was despised and rejected of men. And yet, in the indestructibility of her life she overcame that opposition. Yea, as one said, "the very blood of the martyrs was the seed grain of her progress." Before the preaching of Christ fadeth the glories of heathenism, and where once stood in splendid magnificence the pagan temples of heathenish paganism was placed in its simple and sublime beauty the cross. The Galilean, the Carpenter's Son, God's Son, had conquered. The Church, in a word, had been established.

And then the view changes. A new period begins. Across the face of this period there is written in all directions one word. That word is Rome. It is Rome at the altar swinging the censer, Rome on the battlefield wielding the sword; it is Rome in the councils of kings, and Rome in the judge's seat; it is Rome in the professor's chair, and Rome in the children's nursery; it is Rome in the market stall telling what to sell, and Rome in the kitchen telling people what to eat and drink. It is Rome first, last, and all the time.

At Rome, styled the Holy City, the Mistress of the World, sat a triple-crowned dictator. Princes kissed his feet, and held the stirrups for him as he mounted his bediamoned horse. An emperor stands barefoot in the snow of his courtyard suing for forgiveness because he had dared to govern without his sanction, whilst his clergy, monks without number, swarmed in every place, all sworn to stand by him on peril of salvation, and themselves guarded from all reach of law for any crime they may commit. Gigantic, powerful, proud, wicked and wanton, haughty Rome, drunk with shocking abomination! That is the second period, the era of deformation.

Once more the view changes: Antichrist—for none else is the pope—is assailed by a poor, unknown monk in far-away Saxony. "Who minds a monk? 'Tis nothing." But, lo, the monk towers like a giant, and German princes are by his side, while a nation hangs on his lips. Tidings of great joy, like once from Bethlehem's plains, are again spreading from the little town of Wittenberg on the banks of the Elbe. Ninety-five theses nailed up by that monk against the church-door on the eve of October 31, 1517, are borne on the wings of the wind. How they talk about them in London, now in Copenhagen, now in the streets of Jerusalem. Men, women, youths, fearlessly give the lie to the priest whom they had dreaded too much before. Rome startled; she would use her old force. She would suppress the new teaching, which was nothing but the old truth repeated again. Of no avail! "She's judged. The deed is done." The Lord has smitten Antichrist with the breath of His mouth. The world is enjoying once more the pure and abundant Gospel preaching. A new life is upon the nations. The Church has entered upon another epoch. We call it the period of the Reformation. It is the topic of our concern and gathering to-day. And in order that we may duly grasp its meaning and appreciate its blessing, let us observe, on the basis of our text, The glory of the Lutheran Reformation and Church. That glory is threefold: I. a glory of foundation; II. a glory of possession; III. a glory of prospect. And may God help us understand and appreciate!

First, a glory of foundation. The psalmist, referring to the Old Testament Church, speaks of its foundation. So, too, the New Testament Church has its foundation. "Other foundation can no man lay," writes the Apostle, "than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ," the Son of God, God Himself. The work of redemption which He came into this world to perform is the foundation of our religion, our Church.

What our children learn from their Catechism: "I believe that Jesus Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from eternity, and also true man, born of the Virgin Mary, is my Lord, who has redeemed me, a lost and condemned creature, purchased and won me from all sins, from death and from the power of the devil,"—that is the heart and marrow of our faith, its foundation. This was the point Luther made in those ninety-five theses and in all the teachings, preaching, and writing that he did ever afterwards.