The Reformation motto was post tenebras lux, "out of the darkness, light."
What we need to remember for a moment is the darkness.
In fact, I've been given the title for this talk as "What's the Big Deal about the Reformation?"
And the big deal has everything to do with the darkness.
The darkness that had descended upon the church, the darkness that reigned even in culture.
Perhaps to put a little texture on this moment in history of darkness, let's take a visit
to a little town of Halle in Germany.
We're standing in the marketplace, in the shadow of the steeple and the cathedral tower
of St. Mary's Church.
And we hear the cathedral bells chime.
It's time to enter the sanctuary for the Mass.
Now this Sunday in October of 1517 was not a normal Sunday.
We were told that there would be a homily this Sunday in this cathedral in October of
1517.
That's unusual, you see, because usually homilies were only given at Advent and at Lent, and
as far as the parishioners could tell there was no special feast day on this Sunday.
But sure enough they walked into that cathedral, and they heard a homily.
It was a sermon that had been prepared and sent ahead to the minister of that church.
It was written by a monk named Tetzel.
And Tetzel worked for the archbishop of that region, and his name was Albert.
Albert already had an archbishopric.
He wanted a second.
The normal fee for an archbishopric was 24,000 ducats.
I don't know exactly how much money that is, but that was a lot of money.
And it was also against canon law to have two bishoprics.
So to get an exemption and to be able to have a second bishopric, the pope, Leo X, and this
archbishop, Albert of Mainz struck a deal.
For an extra 10,000 ducats, he could have the bishopric.
If 24,000 ducats was a lot of money, 34,000 ducats was really a lot of money.
And enters Tetzel into the story, the enterprising monk.
And he had the advantage of the pope handing over what was at the time called "The Peter's
Indulgence," named ostensibly for the Apostle Peter, but was really named that because it
would be used to finance the building of St. Peter's Basilica in Rome.
And so Tetzel, the marketer that he was, crafted homilies and sent them ahead for parish priests
to preach.
And so, here we are on Sunday morning in St. Marienkirche in Halle.
And it's quite a dramatic sermon.
The priest was told to use drama to tell of the suffering.
"Can you bend your ear to the ground, and you will hear your dead relatives crying out
in pain in purgatory.
How shameful that you sit there, hoarding your guilders," your German coins, "when all
you need to do is give over a few of them, and your relatives will be freed from their
suffering in purgatory.
Our father, Leo X, has made it possible for your relatives to be freed."
People cried out, people fainted.
They were ready to turn over their entire checkbook to make it happen.
Well on Monday, Tetzel's carriage would roll into the marketplace.
You couldn't miss it.
It was preceded by the blowing of trumpets and fanfare.
An entire detachment of the emperor's guards surrounded the carriage.
Banners unfurled.
A table was laid out.
On one end was a chest, and on the other end a pile of indulgences.
And in the middle sat Tetzel.
And he had a jingle, "Every time a coin in the coffer rings," and in German the word
was springt, "a soul…" or klingt, rather, "a soul from purgatory springs," springt in
the German.
And you would drop your guilder in the chest, and Tetzel would pull an indulgence off the
pile and he would stamp it, and he would hand it to you.
And you could get your relatives out of purgatory.
And what's better?
You could get yourself out of purgatory.
With that indulgence, all of your sins, past, present, and future would be paid for.
That little slip of paper that you would preciously fold up and set inside your pocket would be
your assurance of salvation.
In my mind, my mind wanders to a particular member of that congregation, a particularly
astute member.
A member who, from time to time, would latch onto a few words that were said on the rare
occasions that the church would recite the Nicene Creed.
That member would hear these words "propter nos et propter nostram salutem," "for us and
for our salvation, for us and for our salvation."
Why did the priest never preach on that?
Why was that never explained to us, this one who came for us, and this one who offers us
salvation?
Instead, we listen to this clod selling indulgences.
In my mind, I have this person asking almost out loud, "Is there anyone?
Is there anyone who will come and help us, who will explain these words propter nos et
propter nostram salutem?"
Well at the end of this month, on October 31, 1517, there
was an Augustinian monk who came to the aid of those people in Halle, those people who
were caught in the snare of Tetzel's false gospel.
When he posted his Ninety-Tive Theses on the church door, he also sent a copy in the mail
to Albert of Mainz.
And when he sent the copy of the Ninety-Five Theses, he included a letter and in the letter
he said this, "These poor souls, even these souls in Halle, these poor souls believe that
if they were to purchase these letters of indulgence, they would then be assured of
their salvation.
Likewise that souls immediately leap from purgatory when they've thrown a coin into
the chest.
Oh, great God!"
Luther exclaims.
"In this way, Excellent Father," addressing Albert, "souls committed to your care are
being directed to death.
A most severe reckoning has fallen on you above all others is indeed growing.
For this reason, I could no longer keep silent about these things.
A human being does not attain security about salvation through indulgence preachers.
Christ nowhere commanded indulgences to be preached, but He strongly commanded the gospel
to be preached.
Therefore, what a horror!
What a danger to a bishop!
If while the gospel is being silenced, he only permits the clamoring of indulgences
among his people and is more concerned with the sales of his indulgences than he is with
the gospel of Jesus Christ."
Do you know what Luther actually writes at the bottom of this letter?
He says, "But what can I do?"
Luther did it.
By the grace of God and the mercy of God, Luther did exactly what he needed to do.
The answer was right there in those Ninety-Five Theses.
I don't have time to read all ninety-five to you.
I'll just mention two.
Number 56, "The true treasures of the church are not sufficiently preached or known among
the people of God."
What an indictment that Luther lays at the feet of his church.
These people who were living in darkness, and the church was to be the light of salvation.
And yet the true treasure of the gospel was not even talked about and little known among
the people.
Oh, how they longed to have someone come and tell them about this God-man, who for us and
for our salvation came and lived a sinless life, and kept the law, and atoned for our
sin and satisfied God's wrath.
How they longed to hear that message from the pulpits of the church across Europe, and
the pulpits were silent to the message of the true gospel.
In number 62, Luther simply says, "The true treasure of the church is the most holy gospel
of the glory and grace of God."
And that's what Luther could do, and that's what Luther did.
Into the darkness, Luther preached the light of the gospel, the gospel of the grace and
the gospel of the glory of God.
We need to return to Halle.
We've left a few things unresolved there, so let's go back.
For some reason, Albert of Mainz liked Halle, and it was one of his bishop's seats, but
he liked being there.
But the people did not like him, and they heard what was happening over in Saxon, Germany,
over in Luther's region, and they heard about the freedom and the truth and the beauty of
the gospel.
And they complained against the preaching that they were hearing.
It took some years, but finally by 1541, by 1541, Albert simply vacated the pulpit.
At this time, it was known as "The Market Church of Our Dear Lady" in Halle.
Its towering twin steeples are still there to this day, casting their shadow over the
market square.
Well, we need to back this story up to 1519.
There was a young scholar, very much like Martin Luther.
He had been trained at the University of Erfurt and at Wittenberg and had taught at both back
and forth, just like Luther in the 1510s.
And in 1519, he was at Erfurt and he was detached as an official delegation from Erfurt to be
present at the Leipzig Disputation.
This was the debate that Luther wanted, the debate with Eck, the debate in which Eck forced
Luther into the corner to declare sola Scriptura.
How do you proclaim these things, Luther?
These things that are contrary to our church?
By what authority do you stand on?
And Luther would say, "My authority is the Word of God, and we cannot declare any doctrine
that is not found within its pages."
Eck is responsible for sola Scriptura.
He helped Luther articulate it in 1519.
And Luther was so compelling and so persuasive that Justus Jonas, the scholar from Erfurt,
was immediately convicted and immediately with Luther.
He resigned his post at Erfurt and went to Wittenberg and was by Luther's side.
And when Luther published his first hymnal, not really a hymnal, a song book.
It had eight hymns in it.
Was it—you had more hymns in your first hymnal, Dr. Sproul.
It had eight, and four of them were by Martin Luther, and two of them were by Justus Jonas.
You can see why Luther liked this guy.
And when Luther heard that the pulpit at Halle was vacated, this made his day.
This is a beachhead in the region that was dominated by Tetzel and by Albert.
This is the region that started it all.
And so immediately, Luther dispatches Tetzel, or dispatches, rather, Justus Jonas to this
place where Tetzel used to reign.
And in 1541, Jonas stepped into the pulpit at Halle and preached the gospel, the gospel
of this God-man who came propter nos et propter nostram salutem.
What's the big deal about the Reformation?
I can't believe at Ligonier we're even asking that question.
The big deal is this.
There is only one thing.
There is only one thing that can chase away the darkness, and it's the light of the gospel.
And it was needed in the sixteenth century, because no doubt darkness reigned in the sixteenth
century.
It's as if the truth were right there present, but hidden.
And God was pleased to use the Reformers, even a monk like Martin Luther, to bring the
light of the gospel into the darkness of the sixteenth century.
And may we simply have a prayer before God that if He did it before, may He do it again,
for there are many in darkness.
There are many in our own day in darkness.
A new darkness has descended, it seems like, and it will only be chased away by the light
of the gospel.