# Der Lutheraner_St. Louis Missouri_1846 10 13_S19
# AI translation — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

Der Lutheraner.

"God's Word and Luther's teaching shall never pass away."

Edited by C. F. W. Walther.

*

Volume 3.

St. Louis, Mo., October 17, 1846.

Terms: The Lutheraner appears once every two weeks, at a subscription price of one dollar for out-of-town subscribers, who must pay half of this in advance and bear the postage themselves. — In St. Louis each single issue is sold for 5 cents.

Friedrich Myconius.

An instructive and edifying life story, newly retold from old writings.

First Chapter.

Of Myconius's Youth and His Dealings with Tetzel.

The mining town of Annaberg, in the Saxon Erzgebirge, is certainly not unknown even beyond the borders of Saxony. It was founded in the year 1496, for the sake of the rich silver mines in that region, by the later Duke George (the Bearded) of Saxony; it grew quickly, and received, already in its first years, a learned school.

At this school, which seems to have become renowned within a short time, we find in the year 1510 a devout young man named Friedrich Mecum, or, as he is more often called after the custom of his time — when people liked to give names a Latin ring — Friedericus Myconius. He was the child of honest and pious parents, born in Lichtenfels, a small town in Franconia, in the year 1491, on St. Stephen's Day, that is, the second day of Christmas. After attending the school of his native town for six years, he came in his thirteenth year to the Latin school at Annaberg and remained there another six years. That he not only studied diligently there, but that the salvation of his soul also lay close to his heart, is shown first and best by the dealings he had, in the year fifteen hundred and ten, with the notorious indulgence-peddler Tetzel, whose shamelessness opened the eyes of many people, and, as is well known, of our own Luther as well.

Myconius himself relates: "At that time there was a preaching friar named Johannes Tetzel, the great clamant (crier), commissary, and indulgence-preacher in Germany. He preached in vast sums of money, all of which he sent to Rome, throughout Germany, and especially at the new mining town of St. Annaberg — where I, Friedrich Mecum, myself heard him for two years — a splendidly large amount of money was raised. It is scarcely believable what this unlearned and shameless friar dared to claim. He said that if someone had committed the greatest possible offense and merely put money into the Pope's indulgence chest, the Pope would nonetheless have such power in heaven and on earth that he could forgive it, and that whatever he forgave, God too would have to forgive. Likewise, that if people would only promptly put in their money and secure grace and indulgence, all the mountains around St. Annaberg would turn to solid silver. Likewise, that as soon as the coin rang in the collecting-basin, the soul for whom it was put in would fly straight up to heaven that very instant. So great a thing was his indulgence held to be. And there were inquisitors who banned and burned anyone who spoke a word against it. And the indulgence was held in such high honor that when the commissary was brought into a town, the papal bull was carried before him on a cloth of velvet or gold, and all the priests, monks, the town council, schoolmaster, pupils, men, women, maidens, and children went out to meet him with banners and candles, with singing and procession. Then all the bells were rung, all the organs played, he was escorted into the churches, a cross was set up in the middle of the church, the Pope's banner was hung upon it, and, in short, God Himself could hardly have been received more splendidly.

After Tetzel had carried on his business in this way for two years, he began around Pentecost of the year in question to threaten that he would take away the cross and close the opened gates of heaven, and that afterward eternal life and the forgiveness of sins would never again be had so cheaply. Everyone should therefore consider the salvation of his own soul and of his departed loved ones. Now, he said, was the acceptable time and the day of salvation. Letters were also posted on the church doors, stating that, out of special grace, the letters of indulgence would no longer be sold at as high a price as before, but more cheaply. And at the very end it was written: 'To the poor they shall be given free, for God's sake.' This was the reason our Friedrich came to deal with Tetzel.

His father had taught him the Ten Commandments, the Lord's Prayer, and the Apostles' Creed, and had made him pray diligently. He had also told him that everything comes from God, and that God would protect us if we asked Him diligently for it. Likewise, that Christ's blood was the ransom for the sins of the whole world, and that every Christian must hold this faith, and that Christ's blood was despised if one doubted it. The papal letters of indulgence, he said, were nets to catch the money of the ignorant; eternal life and the forgiveness of sins could by no means be bought with money, and the priests were in error when they taught otherwise. But because Myconius now heard in the sermons only the indulgence being praised, and heard nothing of Christ's merit and satisfaction, he came to think that only those had a share in Christ's death who had either earned it through good works or bought it with money. So he remained uncertain whether he should believe his father or the priests; yet he believed the priests more. Only this kept turning over in his mind — that the forgiveness of sins either could not be obtained at all, or else that money had to be paid, and this even by the very poor. Therefore the clause at the end of the papal letter pleased him greatly: "To the poor, free, for God's sake." And since, after three days, the cross was to be solemnly lowered and the steps to heaven taken down, he felt himself powerfully compelled in spirit to go to the commissary and lay his request before him. The next day, toward evening, he went to the house of Johann Pflock, where Tetzel was staying with his retinue, and asked, in Latin, that he, as a poor man — just as it stood in the letter — be granted complete forgiveness of sins, with no exception whatsoever, and be given a papal letter of indulgence as confirmation. The priests were astonished that the young man could speak Latin, which was something rare in those days, and went at once in to Tetzel to report what he wanted and to put in a good word for him. After long deliberation they came back out with the answer: "My son, we have laid your request before the commissary, and he says that he would indeed gladly grant it, but that he cannot, even if he wished to, for such a grant would be entirely void and as good as none at all: for it stands expressly in the papal letter that only those can share in that rich indulgence who extend a helping hand" — that is, who pay money. To this Myconius replied that in the letters posted on the church doors that same Holy Father had commanded that the indulgence be given to the poor for free, for God's sake, and that it stood there,