# Der Lutheraner_St. Louis Missouri_1846 10 13_S20
# AI translation — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

ad mandatum Domini Papae proprium, that is, "on the Pope's own command."

The negotiators then went back in to the haughty friar and asked him to grant Myconius's wish, saying he was a young man of spirit and eloquence and worthy of such a favor above all others. But they came back once more with the same answer, "of the helping hand, which alone was able to obtain the indulgence." Myconius, however, replied to them: "You do a wrong to me, a poor man. God and the Pope do not wish to exclude me from grace, and you turn me away for the sake of a few pennies." Then the proposal was made that he should at least give something and, so that "the helping hand" would not be entirely lacking, that he should give at least one groschen. Myconius answered that he did not have one, that he was poor. At last he was told to pay only six pfennigs; but again he answered that he did not have even one pfennig. Then they stepped aside and conferred among themselves. Two things in particular troubled them. If they let him go without the indulgence, they had to fear that they might bring a storm down upon their own heads, should the matter somehow become known, since the letters did indeed contain the clause pauperibus gratis, that is, free to the poor. On the other hand, they thought, he really ought to give something, for if others heard that letters of indulgence were being given away for free, the whole crowd of poor students and beggars might come flooding in and all would want the indulgence for nothing. So they came up to him again, and one of them offered him six pfennigs, which he might then give to the commissary: in this way he would help build St. Peter's Church in Rome, help wage war against the Turks, and would share in the grace of Christ and of the indulgence. It was then as though the Spirit came upon our Friedrich Mecum, and he answered boldly: "If I wanted a purchased indulgence, I could at any rate sell a book to pay for it. But I want it for nothing and for God's sake alone; or else you yourselves must answer to God for having, for the sake of six pfennigs, set aside the salvation of a soul in which God and the Pope were both willing to let a share in the forgiveness of sins be given." They finally asked who had sent him; but he answered, as was indeed the truth, that no one had advised or driven him to it, but that he had come of his own accord, trusting only in the free forgiveness promised in the letter, to bring this request. Once more he was offered a letter of indulgence for six pfennigs, which he was to buy. But he wanted, from the one who held in the Pope's name the power to forgive sins for nothing, the free forgiveness of his own sins; and so he was dismissed.

He was indeed saddened that he had not obtained what he wanted, and yet he also rejoiced again "that there was still a God in heaven who would forgive the penitent their sins without money and for nothing." Bathed in tears, he came to his lodging and his little sleeping chamber, and took the crucifix which always stood on his table, set it upon the bench, and threw himself down upon the ground before it.

The substance of his prayer was that God would be his Father and forgive him his sin; that He might do with him as He willed; and since those men would not be gracious to him without money, that He Himself would be a gracious God and Father to him. He felt as though transformed; all earthly things became repugnant to him, and he even seemed weary of life itself; the one thing he desired was to live with God and to please Him. But who was to teach him this? The Word, the life and light of men, lay buried across the whole earth in the thickest darkness of foolish human ordinances. Of Christ one heard scarcely a word, or else He was portrayed as a stern judge whom hardly His own mother and all the saints in heaven, with bloody tears, could appease. Yet the Holy Spirit instilled hope in his heart that God would be gracious to him. He deliberated for several days what he should do. Then he thought of the order of monks, of whose hidden and great holiness he had heard — how, withdrawn from all the corruption of the world, they served God day and night, lived temperately, justly, and chastely, read Mass, sang psalms, fasted, and prayed.

After he had called upon God for several days to guide his decision, he finally shared it with his teacher, the rector Andreas Staffelstein, and asked him for his advice. The latter agreed at once and advised him to enter the Franciscan monastery, which was then newly built; he also went with him at once to the monks, praised his spirit and piety, and said that he had always had hope for him, that he would become a truly devout man. Myconius wished only to lay the matter before his parents first, of whom he was the only son; but the monks taught him, from Jerome, that one must flee to the cross of Christ even if it meant trampling father and mother underfoot; and likewise that whoever puts his hand to the plow and looks back is not fit for the kingdom of God. In many other ways, too, they troubled his conscience, and told him that he could never be saved for all eternity if he did not seize the grace offered him from heaven. Thereupon he promised to return within three days and begin his time of probation.

So it came to pass that in the year of Christ 1510, on the day after the Feast of the Division of the Apostles, which was the 15th of July, at two o'clock in the afternoon, he went to the monastery in the company of his teacher, a few fellow students, and several devout women. At its gate he explained to his companions the reason for his decision, namely, that he wished to serve God and to please Him for eternity as much as he was able, to renounce all sins, and to live in repentance. He bade them farewell, and they all, with tears, wished him God's blessing. So he entered the monastery. Even in later years he could say of this step: "You know, my God, that I speak the truth, and that I did not wish to lead an idle life, nor to serve my belly, nor to shine by any semblance of holiness, but to please You, to serve You — that was, in that time of dense darkness, my anxious longing." Whether he found in the monastery what he sought, the following chapter shall teach us.
(To be continued.)

Does Old Lutheranism Lead to Rome?

"I have, thank God, become so fully certain of this matter, that wherever a pastor does not, with all his strength, set himself against the Pope and the bishops; does not with pure doctrine attack and contradict their human teachings and commandments — whether he remain thereby alive or die — he cannot be saved." Luther to Nic. Hausmann, in the year 1521. (See Works, Halle ed., X, 1880.)

We live in an age which indeed calls itself enlightened, but in which, as far as religion is concerned, an ignorance prevails that must astonish us; and this holds true even of those who call themselves Lutheran. If one now asks a Lutheran, for instance, what difference exists between the Lutherans and the Reformed, what is the usual answer? Most say that the difference, so far as they know, consists in this: that the Lutherans pray "Vater unser" ("Our Father"), while the Reformed pray "Unser Vater" ("Our Father," in the reversed word order); and that the former use wafers at the Holy Supper, while the latter use ordinary bread. Naturally, therefore, most people can no longer explain how it is even possible that there should still be Lutherans who will not unite with the Reformed and who refuse to accept the union that is now becoming ever more common. For if there really were no greater difference between the Lutheran and the Reformed Church than most people, in their ignorance, suppose, then indeed those who for that reason refused to hold church fellowship together would have to be raving fools. But the difference between the Lutherans and the Reformed concerns altogether different matters, namely the most holy sacraments, Baptism and the Lord's Supper, the Office of the Keys, the person of Jesus Christ, God's eternal counsel concerning salvation, etc. — in short, as every Lutheran can already see from his Small Catechism, the "chief parts" of the Christian religion. And because these two churches are at odds on these points, a true union between them, so long as the Reformed do not recognize their errors that conflict with God's Word, is impossible; and where preachers, in spite of this — merely to have as many paying church members as possible — establish an outward union, they thereby sin grievously, first against God, whose truth they deny, and then against those still caught in error, whom they thereby confirm in their error. But of this we have already written elsewhere...