The walls of Wartburg Castle that are hiding Luther from the public are about to witness his plan to counter the Pope’s attack. The soldiers of Prince Frederick III have recently saved Luther’s life, shortly after the decisive confrontation in the Diet of Worms. Luther is not in a good mood after the nightmare he had last night. Having an unforgiving face, he speaks with Andreas Karlstadt who is paying a secret visit to his ally in reformation. While speaking rapidly, he paces the room, restless. Andreas, in contrast, calmly sits on a chair.
“The Pope, he… he is the Antichrist. The only way to save Christianity, I thought about it, is to just cut him out entirely.”
Andreas is surprised. “You want to cut out the Pope?!” he asks with a chuckle, “the very center of Christianity, the heir of the 15-century-long tradition established after Saint Peter himself.”
Luther insists with his eyes.
The chuckle gradually disappears from Andreas’s face when he considers it for a few moments. “How?” he asks, this time with a serious voice.
“Sola Fide,” Luther says the Latin word for Faith Only and stops pacing. “There is a thin thread that connects the corrupted body of the Vatican to the pure teaching of Jesus Christ,” he continues with passion while approaching Andreas, “and that thread is Good Deed. The Pope justifies his very existence as the authority who certifies good deeds. That is how the ridiculous doctrine of selling indulgences started in the first place.”
Luther, who by now is right in front of Andreas, kneels before him, holds his hand, and says with begging eyes: “All a common man needs is faith in Jesus Christ, and with that alone, there will be no need for the Pope, nor for his corrupted body of the Vatican. And once again the common man will be free.” Luther’s eyes are impatiently waiting for approval. Andreas, however, shows no indication of that.
Andreas raises both his hands and puts them on Luther’s shoulders. “My brother… oh my poor brother. Are we not going too far?…”
Disappointed by Andreas’s position, Luther breaks the gaze, gets up, and walks away toward the exit door. He has no interest in hearing the next predictable words.
“… Isn’t good deed,” Andreas asks rhetorically, “charity, kindness, and mercy, what the Lord’s message was all about? What would be faith without good deed?”
“With true faith comes the good deed,” Luther cannot resist giving the snappy response while he is leaving the room. His hand on the door handle, he stops, now curious of Andrea’s reply.
There is a beat of silence. Luther can hear Andreas breathing heavily. “True faith?! True faith?! So you meant Sola my Fide; that is your grand solution! All the faiths, despite their differences, encourage good deeds. Good deed is the common core that unites them all. Without that, we would have to baptize in a bloodbath. There will be wars; endless faith wars of who’s got the true one.”
Letting go of the door handle, Luther angrily turns back to Andreas and steps closer to him with each sentence of his response. “Will be? Are we not already at war with the Turks? Don’t tell me you are so naive not to see that these wars between these earthly empires are all about lands, wealth, and greed; they have nothing to do with faith or your precious good deeds.”
Luther is now very near Andreas, pointing his shaking finger at him.
Andreas’s head hangs down. A few moments pass by. He finally responds while moving his head back up. “How about our neighbors?”
“Huh?”
“The Jews,” Andreas says.
Having no response right away, Luther slowly lowers his finger that was pointing at Andreas. A dragging silence is taking over the debate. He finally turns away, approaches the window, and looks outside for a few moments.
Out the window, beautiful birds fly over a pine tree. Closing his eyes, Luther imagines a bright future as he hears the birds singing. “They will convert,” he says finally, eyes still shut. “They must convert. How could they not after they learn about our merciful Lord?”
Luther opens his eyes and turns back to Andreas. “They have been repelled by the unjust practices of the Vatican. They have been pushed away by the inhuman treatment by the common Christians. What Jew would consent to enter our ranks when he sees the cruelty and enmity we wreak on them; that in our behavior toward them we less resemble Christians than beasts.”
Luther smiles when he reads on Andreas’s face that there is no objection against the premise. He continues by delivering his optimistic conclusion. “When they see the open, merciful arms of the Lord,” he says while opening arms, “they will embrace it.” Luther’s eyes beg for approval. The smile, however, gradually disappears from his face when Andreas turns his gaze away. After a long moment of awkward silence, he drops his arms and turns back to the window. “They must,” he mutters desperately. “How could they not?”
Wishful eyes of the reformer watch the birds dancing around the pine tree outside the window.