On October 31, 1517, Augustinian monk and university professor Martin Luther released his Ninety-five Theses, calling into question the church’s selling of indulgences, papally authorized documents that granted the bearer or the bearer’s dead relatives relief from eons in Purgatory.
The handwritten theses soon were replicated through the scandalous social media outlet known as the printing press and before you could say, “When a coin in the coffer clings, a soul from Purgatory springs” (as indulgence-sellers did), the Protestant Reformation was underway.
Of the 95, my personal favorite thesis is #86: “Why does not the pope, whose wealth is today greater than the wealth of the richest Crassus, build this one basilica of St. Peter with his own money rather than with the money of poor believers?”
Bill Leonard
Pope Leo X had issued a special indulgence to raise funds for the construction of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. Reading that thesis, I couldn’t help thinking about Washington, D.C., 2026, and the White House Ballroom, the Reflecting Pool, the proposed “Arch,” and the Kennedy Center.
Glories of the Renaissance
In The History of Christianity (Volume 2) Justo Gonzalez writes that in Luther’s era, “the papacy fell into the hands of men who were more moved by the glories of the Renaissance than by the message of the Cross. Through war, intrigue, bribery and licentiousness, these popes sought to restore and even outdo the glories of ancient Rome. As a result, while most people still believed in the supreme authority of the Roman see, many found it difficult to reconcile their faith in the papacy with their distrust for its actual occupants.”
In the 16th century, to be born in Western Europe was to be baptized into the Roman Catholic Church. As the Vicar of Christ on earth, the Roman pontiff claimed ecclesiastical authority through possession of the “power of the keys of the kingdom” given by Jesus to St. Peter, investing him and his successors with the power to “bind and loose” persons into and out of the body of Christ. By Luther’s time, popes claimed varying degrees of secular authority as rulers of the “papal states” in Italy, even as they sought to bring such power to bear on many European courts. Various Medieval popes did not hesitate to claim authority over “kingdoms of this world,” thereby seeking both religious and secular dominance.
Luther’s Theses, widely circulated, became a public challenge to indulgences, papal supremacy and Catholic orthodoxy. From 1517 to 1521, Luther, still a Catholic monk, faced multiple forums to debate and answer for his views. In January 1521, Pope Leo X excommunicated him, and in April of that year he was summoned to the Diet of Worms, a gathering of rulers of the Holy Roman Empire to answer to the secular powers for his views.
At Worms, Luther’s books were set before him, and he was asked if he would renounce them. His dramatic response, translated by the Luther scholar Heiko Obermann, reads:
Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Holy Scriptures or by evident reason — for I can believe neither pope nor councils alone, as it is clear that they have erred repeatedly and contradicted themselves — I consider myself convicted by the testimony of Holy Scripture, which is my basis; my conscience is captive to the Word of God. Thus I cannot and will not recant, because acting against one’s conscience is neither safe nor sound. God help me. Amen.
Porrtion of an AI Image of Trump as pope, posted on Trump’s Instagram where it was published on May 3, 2025.
Examine our consciences
This Reformation season, we American Christians would do well to examine the state of our consciences. Five hundred nine years beyond Luther’s actions, one can’t help but wonder if the land of the free and the home of Christian nationalism is indeed experiencing another kind of indulgence controversy with a government that touts its Christian heritage while increasingly pushing citizens to conform to a parallel form of socio-religious autocracy.
“Construction of the new St Peter’s Basilica in Rome,” Maerten van Heemskerck, 1536 (Public domain)
Martin Luther confronted an indulgence-selling pope mandating a particular form of Christian orthodoxy for all of Christian Europe. Heresy also was treason, and the sale of indulgences touted papal authority in this world and the next.
In 21st-century America, that model has been revised by a thoroughly secularized president who, along with many of his followers, claims the authority of the divine to oversee a particular type of national Christianity, all with global implications. At times he appears to offer a kind reverse indulgence-selling, such as when he promises midterm voters that if his political party retains majorities in both the House and Senate, the government will pay citizens $5,000 each. Are business executives, corporations and other entities now required or admonished to fund multiple rebuilding, remodeling, “renaissance” projects as an indulgence that provides them the “salvation” of government contracts?
We might also remember that on May 2, 2025, an A.I.-generated photo of the president in papal regalia was posted on social media, some two weeks after the death and burial of Pope Francis. The president denied he was involved in the action but had told reporters days before: “I’d like to be pope. That would be my No. 1 choice.”
In Luther and the Papacy, Scott Hendrix writes, “Luther asserted that his conscience was captive to the word of God and that he could not go against conscience. This was not, however, a modern plea for the supremacy of the individual conscience or for religious freedom. Though already excommunicated by Rome, Luther saw himself as a sworn teacher of Scripture who must advocate the right of all Christians to hear and live by the gospel.”
In 1644, Williams returned to Providence from England with a charter that established Rhode Island as a democracy and left decisions concerning religion to majority rule. (New York Public Library)
Roger Williams
Yet Luther’s assertion of that right to hear and receive the gospel opened the door to the priesthood of all believers and, ultimately, through others, the idea that God alone is judge of conscience, the foundation of religious liberty. And that assertion always sends me running to Roger Williams a century after Martin Luther.
In a superb essay titled “Roger Williams on Liberty of Conscience,” Edward J. Eberle, Roger Williams University School of Law professor, writes that, Williams’ “central argument was for the cause of conscience — that each person is entitled through the medium of conscience to communicate with the divine in matters spiritual, and that no person or authority is entitled to exert force or otherwise coerce the sacred haven of conscience.”
He continues:
From this core thought Williams elaborated on the primacy of conscience, advocating guarantee of conscience on equal terms for all people, regardless of race or gender; toleration of conscience motivated conduct, to the extent consistent with law and order; separation of church from state in order to protect the integrity of each from the other; non-establishment of a church; and treatment of churches and other religious institutions on terms equal to other, secular institutions in society.
Late in life, Roger Williams wrote of his decision to buy land from the Native Americans and found Providence Plantation in the Rhode Island colony: “I desired it might be for a shelter for persons distressed of conscience. I then communicated my said purchase to loving friends who desired to take shelter here with me.”
So in the name of Jesus, Martin Luther and Roger Williams may American Christians ask: “Is our church a shelter for persons distressed of conscience?”
If so, then celebrate that fact.
If not, then let your conscience (and the Holy Spirit) be your guide.
Bill Leonard is founding dean and the James and Marilyn Dunn professor of Baptist studies and church history emeritus at Wake Forest University School of Divinity in Winston-Salem, N.C. He is the author or editor of 25 books. A native Texan, he lives in Winston-Salem with his wife, Candyce.