The Goose and the Swan continued
1521
In the year 1521, in the public room of a small country Inn on the road that traversed the great Thuringian forest three travelers were sharing the blazing and cheerful fire of the establishment. Two of the travelers were friends, merchants who were passing through the region in the normal course of their trade while the third, a dark and heavily muffled man who had been left there temporarily by his companions the night before was unknown to them. The landlord (for so keepers of such an establishment were called at this time) seemed surprised when one of the merchants broke out with the news that all the country was repeating.
“Well I guess we all knew it was coming. Luther’s dead by now, you know.”
“Is he then sir?” asked the host. “And how came you by that information?”
The merchant smiled indulgently at the host’s simplicity.
“Know landlord, that we who travel about the country converse with many and can better judge the truth of what we hear than you of more stationary pursuits.”
“He was taken on the road from Worms, where he had seen the emperor.” Volunteered his companion. “Twelve armed knights in the pay of Rome snatched him in broad daylight off the public highway.”
The landlord looked at the muffled stranger in surprise as if waiting for him to answer the merchants, and the stranger’s eyes seemed to smile as he asked, “And have you this for certain then my friends? Is Luther really finally taken?”
“It is certain friend, at least as certain as the report of every traveler we passed from Bohemia to Saxony can make it.”
“That is to say,” said his companion, “not certain to the degree that the law would allow, there being as you know, no certainty of murder without a corpse.”
“But this Luther,” continued the stranger, “Is he really such a loss as your sad faces seem to indicate? For I have heard that for all his talk he is just another heretic.”
“Another heretic sir?” answered the smaller of the two men hotly, “Another heretic? aye, heretic I suppose is ever what they call anyone who would restore the church to the days when an endless river of gold didn’t flow from the Germans, down the valleys and over the alps to enrich already wealthy Italian bishops. Does that make him a heretic sir?”
“Nay, calm yourself my good friend, for I meant no disrespect to anyone.” answered the stranger smiling. The astonished host continued to stare at the stranger for a moment before shaking his head and putting another log on the blazing fire to return behind the bar where he listened from there, intending not to intrude himself any further upon his customers.
“So” continued the muffled man, “Is that what all this controversy is about then? A dispute about money or trade?”
“Sir as you appear to be a man of quality I need not tell you that these unhappy dissensions that have set German against Roman originated in the teachings of the church and such like, which it hardly becomes me, as a layman, to speak.”
“Yes but can you not at least tell me something of them, from a layman’s point of view? asked the muffled man. “I‘ve been away for awhile you see.”
“Well I can.” said his friend. “The whole trouble started over money.”
“Ah?”
“Yes but not just money.”
“What he means,” his friend cut in, “is that the whole thing started over that pardoner fellow who came through the country a while back. Luther, you see was a pastor and took offense at his parishioners going over to buy pardons from the pope’s man when they could have stayed home and he would gotten them forgiven for half the price.”
“At this the stranger’s eyes widened in surprise and after a second had passed he burst out laughing.”
“Is that true then, mine host?” he asked, looking in the direction of the landlord. “all this controversy over who gets paid for the forgiveness of sins?”
“Not to gainsay mine honored guests sir,” Answered the inn keeper reluctantly, “for what they say is partly true, but as we are in the vicinity of Wittenberg I should know something of Luther, and can say that Dr. Luther never took money for showing men where to go to get their sins forgiven.”
“So do thou tell us then, which part is true?”
“To be sure sir, the pardoner, that is to say, the monk, John Tetzel by name came preaching that you could buy your relatives out of purgatory and into heaven by purchasing an indulgence, for which the holy father would be pleased to release them as soon as the money was paid.”
“But would not the holy father release them in mere Christian charity, supposing he had the power that you speak of?”
“Well, sir that is for the priests, the monks, and the bishops to decide and not for poor simple folk like myself.”
“But I do think it for yourself, Hans Tapsman, and for every simple Christian to decide.” said the stranger turning serious. “Hath not God given us his word and commanded us to diligently study it?”
During this time the two merchants studied the stranger’s looks and were aware that they may have said too much already in a country where to speak your mind was not always the most prudent or safest course. Fearing that they had spoken too rashly before an ecclesiastic sent by Rome they seemed suddenly more wary.
“I perceive that you are a bit more learned in this matter than at first you would have us believe my friend.” said the smaller man.
“Well I may have studied the scriptures myself in my youth.” Admitted the stranger. “The question is, what do we do, and who do we follow when God’s word goes against the things the church is teaching?”
“But surely,” said the merchant, loosening up, “the church can’t be wrong in what they teach when all they teach has it’s origin in the scriptures?”
“Yes, but how do we simple people know that what they teach is in the scriptures? Hast thou ever read the scriptures thyself my friend?”
“No, to be sure a merchant must follow his calling and leave the priest to follow his, but if you can’t trust the church...” the merchant left off with a laugh.
The stranger’s honest smile showed as he unwound the muffler that had shielded his countenance, at which the two merchants started back before a face that Cranach’s art had made the most famous in Germany and perhaps all Europe at that time.
He pretended not to notice the surprised looks of his companions and continued.
“I have read in the scriptures that when the apostle came preaching to some Jews at a place called Berea, these Jews received him with all courtesy but did not just accept right away the gospel that the apostle preached but rather went home and searched the scriptures to determine whether those things were so, and the Bible,” here the stranger became visibly more animated, “calls them more noble for doing so. What? more noble for holding the holy apostles themselves to the word of God? More noble for not accepting what was taught by the church but holding the church accountable to God’s holy word? Suppose ye, my masters, that these Berean Jews were all rabbis or in ministry? No, scripture indicates that they were simple folk like ourselves, bakers, merchants, and... maybe even an honest inn keeper among them, and yet, they listened to what they heard at church and then went home and studied their own Bibles to make sure what they heard was correct. And God’s word calls them more noble for doing so.” The room was hushed as even the servants had stopped talking in order to attend to the words of the stranger and though the walls and great timbers which supported the old inn were blackened by the smoke of many a fire in the fireplace the man’s face shone in the darkened room.
In the silence that ensued as everyone considered the stranger’s words one of the merchants blurted out artlessly “I should like to be able to read God’s word for myself like that.” To which the stranger quietly replied, “If I have anything to do with it, very soon you shall.”
In the year 1521, in the public room of a small country Inn on the road that traversed the great Thuringian forest three travelers were sharing the blazing and cheerful fire of the establishment. Two of the travelers were friends, merchants who were passing through the region in the normal course of their trade while the third, a dark and heavily muffled man who had been left there temporarily by his companions the night before was unknown to them. The landlord (for so keepers of such an establishment were called at this time) seemed surprised when one of the merchants broke out with the news that all the country was repeating.
“Well I guess we all knew it was coming. Luther’s dead by now, you know.”
“Is he then sir?” asked the host. “And how came you by that information?”
The merchant smiled indulgently at the host’s simplicity.
“Know landlord, that we who travel about the country converse with many and can better judge the truth of what we hear than you of more stationary pursuits.”
“He was taken on the road from Worms, where he had seen the emperor.” Volunteered his companion. “Twelve armed knights in the pay of Rome snatched him in broad daylight off the public highway.”
The landlord looked at the muffled stranger in surprise as if waiting for him to answer the merchants, and the stranger’s eyes seemed to smile as he asked, “And have you this for certain then my friends? Is Luther really finally taken?”
“It is certain friend, at least as certain as the report of every traveler we passed from Bohemia to Saxony can make it.”
“That is to say,” said his companion, “not certain to the degree that the law would allow, there being as you know, no certainty of murder without a corpse.”
“But this Luther,” continued the stranger, “Is he really such a loss as your sad faces seem to indicate? For I have heard that for all his talk he is just another heretic.”
“Another heretic sir?” answered the smaller of the two men hotly, “Another heretic? aye, heretic I suppose is ever what they call anyone who would restore the church to the days when an endless river of gold didn’t flow from the Germans, down the valleys and over the alps to enrich already wealthy Italian bishops. Does that make him a heretic sir?”
“Nay, calm yourself my good friend, for I meant no disrespect to anyone.” answered the stranger smiling. The astonished host continued to stare at the stranger for a moment before shaking his head and putting another log on the blazing fire to return behind the bar where he listened from there, intending not to intrude himself any further upon his customers.
“So” continued the muffled man, “Is that what all this controversy is about then? A dispute about money or trade?”
“Sir as you appear to be a man of quality I need not tell you that these unhappy dissensions that have set German against Roman originated in the teachings of the church and such like, which it hardly becomes me, as a layman, to speak.”
“Yes but can you not at least tell me something of them, from a layman’s point of view? asked the muffled man. “I‘ve been away for awhile you see.”
“Well I can.” said his friend. “The whole trouble started over money.”
“Ah?”
“Yes but not just money.”
“What he means,” his friend cut in, “is that the whole thing started over that pardoner fellow who came through the country a while back. Luther, you see was a pastor and took offense at his parishioners going over to buy pardons from the pope’s man when they could have stayed home and he would gotten them forgiven for half the price.”
“At this the stranger’s eyes widened in surprise and after a second had passed he burst out laughing.”
“Is that true then, mine host?” he asked, looking in the direction of the landlord. “all this controversy over who gets paid for the forgiveness of sins?”
“Not to gainsay mine honored guests sir,” Answered the inn keeper reluctantly, “for what they say is partly true, but as we are in the vicinity of Wittenberg I should know something of Luther, and can say that Dr. Luther never took money for showing men where to go to get their sins forgiven.”
“So do thou tell us then, which part is true?”
“To be sure sir, the pardoner, that is to say, the monk, John Tetzel by name came preaching that you could buy your relatives out of purgatory and into heaven by purchasing an indulgence, for which the holy father would be pleased to release them as soon as the money was paid.”
“But would not the holy father release them in mere Christian charity, supposing he had the power that you speak of?”
“Well, sir that is for the priests, the monks, and the bishops to decide and not for poor simple folk like myself.”
“But I do think it for yourself, Hans Tapsman, and for every simple Christian to decide.” said the stranger turning serious. “Hath not God given us his word and commanded us to diligently study it?”
During this time the two merchants studied the stranger’s looks and were aware that they may have said too much already in a country where to speak your mind was not always the most prudent or safest course. Fearing that they had spoken too rashly before an ecclesiastic sent by Rome they seemed suddenly more wary.
“I perceive that you are a bit more learned in this matter than at first you would have us believe my friend.” said the smaller man.
“Well I may have studied the scriptures myself in my youth.” Admitted the stranger. “The question is, what do we do, and who do we follow when God’s word goes against the things the church is teaching?”
“But surely,” said the merchant, loosening up, “the church can’t be wrong in what they teach when all they teach has it’s origin in the scriptures?”
“Yes, but how do we simple people know that what they teach is in the scriptures? Hast thou ever read the scriptures thyself my friend?”
“No, to be sure a merchant must follow his calling and leave the priest to follow his, but if you can’t trust the church...” the merchant left off with a laugh.
The stranger’s honest smile showed as he unwound the muffler that had shielded his countenance, at which the two merchants started back before a face that Cranach’s art had made the most famous in Germany and perhaps all Europe at that time.
He pretended not to notice the surprised looks of his companions and continued.
“I have read in the scriptures that when the apostle came preaching to some Jews at a place called Berea, these Jews received him with all courtesy but did not just accept right away the gospel that the apostle preached but rather went home and searched the scriptures to determine whether those things were so, and the Bible,” here the stranger became visibly more animated, “calls them more noble for doing so. What? more noble for holding the holy apostles themselves to the word of God? More noble for not accepting what was taught by the church but holding the church accountable to God’s holy word? Suppose ye, my masters, that these Berean Jews were all rabbis or in ministry? No, scripture indicates that they were simple folk like ourselves, bakers, merchants, and... maybe even an honest inn keeper among them, and yet, they listened to what they heard at church and then went home and studied their own Bibles to make sure what they heard was correct. And God’s word calls them more noble for doing so.” The room was hushed as even the servants had stopped talking in order to attend to the words of the stranger and though the walls and great timbers which supported the old inn were blackened by the smoke of many a fire in the fireplace the man’s face shone in the darkened room.
In the silence that ensued as everyone considered the stranger’s words one of the merchants blurted out artlessly “I should like to be able to read God’s word for myself like that.” To which the stranger quietly replied, “If I have anything to do with it, very soon you shall.”
posted by Jimmy Stanfield | 5:43 AM
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