Chapter Seven - The Diet of Worms

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Diet of Worms

THIS WASN’T A joke.

This was an imperial trial, called by Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor himself.

The setting: Worms, Germany.
The event: The Diet of Worms, 1521.
The charge: Heresy.

Martin Luther was summoned to appear before the Emperor, Church officials, and the nobility of Europe. Not to debate. Not to explain. Just to recant.

When he arrived, the table was stacked with his books. A representative asked two questions:

1. Are these your writings?
2. Will you recant them?

Luther asked for time to think.
They gave him one day.

He spent the night in prayer.
Shaking. Sweating. Wondering if this would be the end.

The next day, he returned. And did not recant.

He admitted the books were his.
And then, in the face of absolute power, he delivered the words that would echo for centuries:

“Unless I am convinced by Scripture and plain reason, I do not accept the authority of popes and councils, for they have contradicted each other. My conscience is captive to the Word of God.

I cannot and will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe.

Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me. Amen.”

Silence.
Then chaos.

The Church had failed to silence him.
The Empire had failed to scare him.
And now they had a problem.

Because according to imperial law, Luther should be burned.
But politically? Religiously? Culturally?

Killing Luther might make him a martyr.
Letting him live might make him a movement.

Charles V issued the Edict of Worms, declaring Luther an outlaw. Anyone could kill him, legally, without consequence.

But before that could happen, Luther vanished.

Not because he ran.

Because someone kidnapped him. On purpose.