“Martin Luther,” Johann Eck calls. Luther turns his head toward him.
Luther stands tall in an imperial assembly known as the Diet of Worms. Held in the city of Worms, the assembly of the Holy Roman Empire is called by King Charles V, who himself is present. Although Pope Leo X, who has requested the assembly, is absent, Luther knows well that the Pope is the man behind the curtain.
Johann Eck, Luther’s accuser, interrogates him with quite an aggressive tone. Eck has made a reputation for himself as an extremist prosecutor who takes joy in silencing indignant voices; today is Luther’s turn.
The opposition between the two has been going on for quite a few years, but today is the first and last time that Eck confronts Luther face to face. The most troublesome rebel in the Holy Roman Empire is finally cornered and has no choice but to respond to Eck’s questions. Theologian vs. theologian.
“Martin Luther,” Johann Eck says loudly, “come then, answer the question of his majesty.” Eck points to King Charles V. “Is this collection of books yours, and are you ready to revoke their heresies?”
With a pile of books on the stand before him, Eck turns to the crowd, which consists of bishops as well as government officials. Luther watches him throwing the books on the floor as he names each, like they are pieces of trash. “The 95 Theses, Resolutions Concerning the 95 Theses, On the Papacy at Rome, Address to the Christian Nobility, The Babylonian Captivity of the Church, and On the Freedom of a Christian.” Each time a book is hurled to the floor, Luther’s heart twinges as if someone is stabbing him in the chest.
Luther takes a few seconds to regain his temper. Closing his eyes, he reviews the plan. He then calmly opens his eyes and watches his companion nod when their eyes meet. Luther agrees with his eyes, takes a deep breath, and delivers his long, rehearsed response.
Luther starts slowly, “To answer your first question, yes they are all mine…,” and goes on and on.
“Will you retract the doctrines therein?” Eck interrupts Luther, showing his impatience with Luther dancing around the subject.
Luther makes eye contact with his companion again. He decides to stick to the plan when the companion reassures him with a nod. He takes a deep breath and delivers another well-rehearsed reply, with an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before—Luther is about to crack.
“My books are of three kinds…”
“Would you recant or not?” frustrated Eck shouts, cutting him off. “Deal plainly, not with a horned or ambiguous reply.”
Although agitated by Eck’s reaction, Luther must do his best to contain his emotions. If there is any diplomacy left under his rebellious exterior, this is the time and place to employ it. He scans the crowd, reading their frustrated faces. Their eyes demand a straight response. Feeling cornered by the many menacing glares in his direction, he realizes that he cannot get away with more diplomatic speeches.
Making his war face, Luther looks at his companion, who shakes his head. With his eyes, the companion begs Luther not to do what he is about to do.
Stricken by doubts, Luther turns his head down. This is the moment, he thinks; The moment to prove my faith, my integrity, no matter the consequences. When he decides to proceed, he draws in a deep breath, looks up, and gives a response that is no longer tactful.
“Since then your serene majesty and your lordships seek a simple answer, I will give it in this manner, neither horned nor toothed.”
The audience sits forward in their seats, staring. The emperor stops drinking red wine and slowly brings down the silver cup. The color drained from his face, the disappointed companion covers his frightened eyes with his palms; only if he could do the same with the ears.
“Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason—for I do not trust either in the Pope or in councils alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves—I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the Word of God.”
Luther takes a moment and then shouts in one breath the quote that will become the most known in the history of Protestantism: “I cannot and will not recant anything.” As he is panting, he continues, willing his voice calm. “… since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience.” Luther surveys the crowd while taking a moment to regain his breath. “May God help me,” he says finally, “Amen.”
The court is filled with the murmur of the audience, stunned by Luther’s outrageous response.
Wine has spilled on the ground after the emperor unconsciously crushed the silver cup that he was holding.
Eck turns his gaze back from the emperor’s squinted eyes to Luther. Eck looks more disappointed than angry. Having nothing more to ask Luther, he goes to return to his seat. Before completely leaving the stand, he stops. After a hesitation, Eck turns to Luther and continues but with a softer, advisory tone.
“Martin, there is no one of the heresies which have torn the bosom of the church, which has not derived its origin from the various interpretations of the Scripture. The Bible itself is the arsenal whence each innovator has drawn his deceptive arguments.”
Luther shows no indication of a change in his uncompromising look. Eck, looking disappointed, turns away and leaves the stand.
An awkward silence reigns the court and the stand, which is now empty of any challenger. The silly cough of an audience member is the only sound that dares to break the seemingly never-ending silence.
The archbishop, a diplomatic character, asks the emperor’s permission and comes up to fill the Eck’s place. Turning to Luther, he continues the interrogation.
“Suppose that we made from your books faithful extracts of articles we object to. Would you submit them to a council?”
Fearlessly rigid in his position, Luther’s anger reignites when he looks at his books thrown on the floor. “I would not consent to submit them to a council,” he responds, “for I am certain that the decrees of that council condemned the truth.” Luther turns to the emperor, shouting at the top of his voice: “I would rather lose my head than abandon the divine word.”
His face turned red from fury, multiple veins pop on the emperor’s forehead. The man who sits at his lower right-hand side takes his eyes off the emperor’s furious face and springs up from his seat, shrieking: “Traitor!!! Traitor!!!”
Luther boldly surveys the murmuring crowd’s reaction to his stubbornness. Some cannot remain seated anymore. Each uses his own incomprehensible hand gesture to express his rage. Luther is relieved that those hands cannot reach his throat, for now at least. While pulling his hair, the companion watches them with frightened eyes.
“Gentlemen! Order! Order!” the archbishop yells.
Except for a few, the crowd becomes quiet. “Settle down, gentlemen,” the archbishop yells at those few. “Settle down.” He continues after a moment that the crowd is all quiet. “We, the elites of the Holy Roman Empire, gathered here to hear out Professor Luther’s arguments in a civilized manner. So, let us act as such. Let the man explain himself,” the archbishop says and turns to Luther.
“In what concerns the word of God and the faith,” Luther continues to explain himself, “every Christian is as good a judge for himself as the Pope can be for him; for each man must live and die according to that faith. The word of God is the common heritage of the whole Christian world, each member of which is competent to explain it. The master must follow the disciple if the latter understands the word of God better than he himself does.”
Having the hours-long interrogation failed at breaking Luther, the arch-chancellor, an old man who looks like a ruthless executioner but in chancellor cloth, finishes the assembly. “Since you have not chosen to listen to the counsels of his majesty and of the states of the empire, and to confess your errors, it is now for the emperor to act,” he says while pointing to the emperor.
The emperor’s face split into an evil grin.
The arch-chancellor turns back to Luther after he receives the signal from the emperor. “By his order,” he declares to Luther, “I give you… twenty days, wherein to return to Wittenberg, secure under the imperial safe-conduct.”
The emperor sneers when the arch-chancellor says the word ‘secure’.
“If it’s secure, then I’m an ass,” the companion whispers into Luther’s ear, his voice trembling. People have left the court, and only Luther and his companion remain. “We are dead already,” the companion continues while shivering. “The Pope wants you dead; The emperor’s soldiers will never let us reach home alive.”