After days of debate in the German town of Worms, the Holy Roman Emperor asked Martin Luther one more time, “Do you recant, or do you not?”

Papal authorities had been after Luther ever since he nailed 95 statements to the Castle Church door in Wittenberg, Germany, on October 31, 1517. The Ninety-five Theses attacked the religious miscreants who traveled the German countryside hawking spiritual favors for money (indulgences) to build St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. One of the worst was John Tetzel, who announced that purchasing his indulgences would make the sinner purer than Adam himself had been before the fall. Those who wanted to free their deceased loved ones from eternal ambiguity were promised, “As soon as the coin in the coffer rings, the soul from purgatory springs.”1

Martin Luther’s blood boiled as the pope built his pet project out of the pockets of penniless German peasants by selling them forgiveness only God could provide. Luther believed the Scriptures taught that Jesus Christ’s suffering and death on the cross had already paid the price of salvation. No one should try to exact further payment. The price had been paid. God’s grace could not be bought. So Luther grabbed parchment and hammer, and with a pen as his sword, he marched toward a battle for truth.

Pope Leo X tried to dismiss the ruckus as simple bickering between the monks and derided Luther by saying that he must have been drunk when he wrote the Theses and that he would certainly come to his senses once he became sober. But Luther was neither drunk nor willing to change his mind. He stood firm as the church pummeled him with verbal artillery in debates and councils — called diets. At the famous diet in the city of Worms, Germany, Luther was called upon to renounce his “heretical” theology. Surrounded by his fuming enemies, Luther proceeded to answer. A hundred years earlier, papal representatives had asked John Huss the same question. Huss had responded that he would not recant “even if you kindle the fire for the burning of my body before my very eyes.”2 His wish was quickly granted.

With a possible death sentence hanging over his own head, Luther announced,

I must be bound by those Scriptures
which have been brought forward by
me; yes, my conscience has been taken
captive by these words of God. I cannot
revoke anything, nor do I wish to; since
to go against one’s conscience is neither
safe nor right: Here I stand, I cannot
do otherwise. God help me. Amen.
(emphasis added)3

Nothing much has changed, has it? In today’s world where polls dictate decisions, principles take a backseat to popularity, and the greatest sin is to offend others, celebrities still take the place of real leaders. Martin Luther shows us that true leaders fear their consciences more than the crowd, stand on convictions rather than slipping into compromise, and value truth over tolerance.