Martyrs and Martyrdom in Luther's Theology

At its July 2026 national meeting of pastoral and lay delegates, the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod adopted a "modern day martyrdom" resolution. The text of the resolution does not define "martyrdom." Nor does it try to lay out a Lutheran theology of martyrdom. Apparently, everybody voting on this resolution knew what "martyrdom" means. Even the apparent reason for this resolution--the tragic killing of activist and organizer Charlie Kirk in September 2025--was vague on this key point, merely referring to unnamed people's "suspicions that Kirk's faith played a large role in the attacker's motive" and "concerns" of "many parishioners about growing violence against Christians in America."
So, did Luther have a theology of martyrdom? And, if so, what is it?
The following will outline key aspects of Luther's theology of martyrdom. I'll begin with Luther's view of martyrs in the bible, touch on martyrdom in the history of the church and its relation to doctrinal error, cover the concept of martyrs of the devil, and conclude by discussing how the Christian life in a fallen world that cannot help but be hostile to the gospel is a life of inevitable and constant suffering for the gospel until Christ returns in glory.
Martyrs in Biblical Times
For Luther, "Noah is a martyr above all martyrs." (St. L. Ed. 1:443; see Am. Ed. 2:8.) Why? Because Noah "lived among the ungodly a full six hundred years, not without many serious dangers and afflictions" before the Flood. For "it is much easier and more insignificant to suffer all danger and hardship within one bad hour than to observe and live through so much and such great evil of the world over the course of so many centuries."
Yet Shem by far surpassed even his father Noah "because he had to observe this misery for much longer and lived for about five hundred years after the Flood." (St. L. Ed. 1:693; see Am. Ed. 2:217.) While we today "observe great aversion, misery, and misfortune in the world, we do not observe them for long and for this reason are more fortunate" than Shem, Noah, and the other long-lived believers who lived at the beginning of the world. "All people of all times should justly consider these martyrs and learn from their example to be patient."
Patience under the cross of life in a fallen world, however, is not the same as inaction. And action in this context is not the same as fomenting a political revolution to make the fallen world safe for Christianity. As the fathers daily defended the true church "against offenses, gangs, and sects" by preaching and prayer, so the ministers of the Word today must preach and pray, while learning to endure patiently "the angry raging and assaults of Satan by which he dares to divide and weaken the true church, while strengthening his own church." (St. L. Ed. 1:710-711; see Am. Ed. 2:230-231.)
Compared to the patriarchs in the OT--they lived a life full of afflictions, even as strangers in the land God had given them, while clinging to God's promise of heavenly blessings by faith--"we are delicate martyrs; we sit lazily and enjoy peace and quiet, make use of our possessions, eat and drink in peace." Indeed, "our afflictions are far more insignificant and lighter than the hardships and misery of the saintly patriarchs." (St. L. Ed. 2:190, 196; see Am. Ed. 5:54, 59.)
Martyrs and Their Doctrinal Errors in the History of the Church
Bishop Cyprian of Carthage was martyred in 258 A.D. because he refused to worship the Roman emperors. Luther regarded him highly as an "excellent man and dear martyr." (St. L. Ed. 16:2177; see Am. Ed. 41:44.) Luther noted, for instance, that Cyprian taught that both bread and wine are to be administered to all communicants in the Lord's Supper (Am. Ed. 36:25) and affirmed that Christ's body and blood are present in the consecrated bread and wine (Am. Ed. 37:122-123). Luther also cited Cyprian along with Jerome and Augustine as witnesses for the proposition that--prior to the first "pope," Boniface III (d. 607)--"the Roman bishop was nothing more than a bishop, which is all he should still be." (St. L. Ed. 17:1047; see Am. Ed. 41:290; see also Am. Ed. 59:275.)
Yet despite this appreciation of Cyprian as martyr and teacher of the Church, Luther recognizing that Cyprian "stumbled in pretty serious matters" and falsely "taught and staunchly insisted that the baptized among the heretics had to be baptized again." (St. L. Ed. 16:2176; see Am. Ed. 41:44.) Cyprian moreover claimed that "the Lord must be appeased by our atonement." (Am. Ed. 30:237.)
Luther took Cyprian's doctrinal errors to be Christ-sent comfort for "us poor sinners" because they showed that Christ's "great saints still had to be humans." (St. L. Ed. 16:2177; see Am. Ed. 41:44.) Indeed, even as Luther acknowledged that Cyprian and other well-established saints such as Augustine, Bernard of Clairvaux, and Francis of Assisi, had fallen into serious errors concerning the gospel, he nonetheless believed that Christ had ultimately preserved them, his elect (Matth. 24:24), to be saved by faith alone, even in their martyrdom. (Am. Ed. 26:459-460; 36:76-77; 38:192-193; 52:191-192, 248-249; 63:238.)
Moreover, Luther distinguished Cyprian's demand of rebaptism for those baptized by heretics from the Anabaptists of his own time. Luther did so by arguing that Cyprian held that the heretics had no sacraments at all, so that they had to be baptized for the first time like the other heathen. "It was therefore his heart's error that he was not giving a second baptism but was baptizing an unbaptized heathen." By contrast, the Anabaptists of the 16th century conceded that Lutherans and Catholics had a true baptism but claimed that rebaptism is required where "it is given or received by unworthy people," such as (presumably unbelieving) infants baptized by Lutherans or Catholics. (St. L. Ed. 16:2178; see Am. Ed. 41:46; see also Am. Ed. 57:148-150, 180.)
Luther also took Cyprian's doctrinal errors as a teaching opportunity to underscore the importance of following Scripture--not the unbiblical opinions of the holy fathers and martyrs--when it came to establishing Christian doctrine. (Am. Ed. 41:45-47.) As noted, the saints often err and should therefore not be turned into free-standing examples beyond Scripture. (Am. Ed. 79:334-335.)
Martyrs in the 16th Century
In his 1525 treatise on Brother Henry of Zütphen (Am. Ed. 32:265-286), Luther painted a vivid picture of the life and martyrdom of Brother Henry, who was a former Augustinian friar like Luther. Luther wrote his treatise to comfort Henry's former congregation in Bremen and to praise and honor God's grace that had granted the gift of martyrdom.
Henry had been kidnapped and lynched after preaching his first sermon at Heide in North Germany in October 1524. While Henry was not the first Lutheran martyr, Luther took the opportunity of his death to underscore the importance of their martyrdom as a certification that the rediscovered gospel "is the right doctrine wherein the right Spirit is given, which [is the doctrine] they taught, believed, died for, and by their martyrdom confirmed." (St. L. Ed. 21a:688.) Indeed, in their martyrdom, we "feel and sense how the Spirit of God proves and confirms his Word with strong and mighty deeds, as has been his custom from the beginning." (St. L. Ed. 21a:688.)
Luther distinguished the deaths of these men as God's martyrs from deaths of false teachers who, because they died for their own misleading doctrines--including works righteousness and free will--"are not God's martyrs, but rather their own and the devil's, just as the heathen died for the sake of worldly rights, property, and honor." (St. L. Ed. 21a: 689-690; see Rom. 5:7.)
By contrast, "to die for God's Word and faith is a costly, precious, and noble death that rightfully belongs to God's Spirit and children alone. For it goes with such dying that one dies for the unrighteous and for the ones who inflicted the death and that one intercedes for them in death, as Christ did," according to Isaiah 53:12. (St. L. Ed. 21a:690.)
Put differently, people die for their convictions all the time. But only those who die for God's Word are God's martyrs while the death of all others is a testament to their own convictions or even to the devil.
In his 1525 treatise on Henry, Luther called upon Henry's fellow believers in Bremen not to be sad or speak ill of his murderers but "to be glad, to thank and praise God who has made you worthy to see and obtain these wonders and graces," indeed "to praise God joyfully on account of the fruit which he produces on earth through their martyrdom." (St. L. Ed. 21a.:691.)
By doing so, Luther called on them to take God's view of this martyrdom in order to see the sufferings and deaths of all true martyrs--including their own, if it were God's will--as something precious that is to be embraced in joy (see 1 Peter 4:12-13), not as something terrible that is to be avoided:
In our time, the form of a truly Christian life has returned. Marked by suffering and persecution, it looks dreadful before the world, but is precious and dear before God's eyes, as the psalter [Ps. 116:15] says: "Precious before the Lord is the death of his saints," and again in Ps. 72:14: "Their blood is precious before his eyes." (St. L. Ed. 21a:688-689.)
It bears underscoring in the face of the prevalence of "prosperity theology" in outward Christianity that martyrdom, suffering, and persecution--not outward peace, health, material prosperity, harmonious families, political power, and institutional security for the church--are "the form of a truly Christian life" (see Rom. 8:17).
Martyrdom--Given by God, not Chosen by Men
As noted in his treatise on Brother Henry, Luther praised God for giving Henry and his congregants the gift of martyrdom for the rediscovered gospel of Christ. He contrasted Henry's suffering for Christ from the deaths of those who suffered for their own theological or political causes.
Elsewhere, Luther quoted St. Augustine: "Suffering does not make martyrs, but the proper cause of suffering makes martyrs." (St. L. Ed. 10:899-900; see Am. Ed. 61:318; see also Am. Ed. 30:239.) Accordingly, Luther frequently criticized those who--in Luther day (like the Donatists at the time of St. Augustine)--chose suffering and martyrdom for themselves, e.g., by voluntarily forsaking their home, family, and child, while the true martyrs are deprived of these good gifts of God by force when given the choice between denying God's Word and hanging on to their early possessions and life. (See, e.g., Am. 23:201-204.)
At the same time, and in keeping with the "form of a truly Christian life" found in suffering and persecution, Luther had harsh words for those who embrace faith in Christ as a way to avoid suffering, as a key to worldly advantages. "Carnal freedom," therefore, has an active and passive component. Put differently, it includes not only the freedom from moral/political restraint to do as one pleases. It also includes freedom from suffering things commonly viewed as unpleasant, such as loosing one's life or possessions for Christ's sake.
[Christ says in John 8:31-36:] Those who firmly stand [with the gospel], they are my true disciples. They are prepared to endure whatever comes their way. The others, who seek only carnal freedom and what advances their own benefit, are nothing but mouth-Christians, liars, false disciples, or illegitimate children.
The Jews also would have gladly accepted the gospel, but without the cross, while remaining in their homes and being free, while giving no one anything, while being subject to no one and not belonging to anyone. But if the gospel were such a doctrine, I would convert the whole world in a single hour! If Christ had given a sack of guilders to everyone as a gift, in addition to a castle or a city, who would then not have remained his disciple? They all would have come running to him, if only he had given them a thousand guilders, even if only he had given them a single guilder, while allowing them to use this money in peace, while giving them free rein to commit sexual immorality and adultery, practice usury, engage in theft, so that they would not have run into any kind of danger for the sake of the gospel and remained without fear of death. Then Christ would have been a fine king!
But he says: "People will be your enemies, and you must be hated for my sake. The world will blaspheme, violate, and kill you; it will begrudge you even the morsel of bread you eat and even a moment of life. You will suffer all these things for my sake." Hearing Christ say this, flesh and blood reply: "Let the devil be a Christian in my stead! You go and be a Christian. Remaining with Christ stinks! It's very costly. It takes a lot; it puts everything at risk." (St. L. Ed. 8:228-229; see Am. Ed. 23:399; see also Am. Ed. 67:111.)
"Prosperity theology" is therefore not limited to a particular theological tradition, a particular country or region, or a particular time in church history. It is therefore not easily (or arrogantly) avoided simply by avoiding a given tradition or country. Rather, it is a theology that makes sense to the flesh, the sinful nature that exists in all humans after the fall: If I am to join the cause of Christ in some way as a disciple, there'd better be in it something for me in this life. Otherwise, why join that cause?
But Christ is not a bread king who offers material prosperity to his followers. He offers them eternal redemption from sin, death and the devil; suffering in this life; and glory in the life to come. For carnal, materialistic "mouth-Christians"--for Luther, they make up the vast majority (90%) of outward Christians--that spiritual path and promise (though exceedingly glorious and comforting to faith) is inacceptable.
Martyrs of the Devil
As mentioned above, those who do not teach Christ's teachings in the Church are not his martyrs but their own or the devil's martyrs. Yet Luther also detected martyrs of the
devil elsewhere.
For instance, the devil's martyrs are "godless people [who] often endure countless and great misfortune in hopes of short-lived pleasure," e.g., merchants, soldiers, prostitutes, and drunkards. (St. L. 1:263; see Am. Ed. 1:215.)
Those accustomed to see the military and the economy as honorable vocations will likely find Luther's grouping offensive because it puts merchants and soldiers in the same class as prostitutes and drunkards. But a materialistic orientation--undertaking great hardships for the sake of worldly gain--can certainly be powerful across all members of this class mentioned by Luther. Just think of the European sailors, soldiers, and traders who suffered greatly as they robbed and conquered far-away empires for financial gain and worldly glory during Luther's lifetime.
Yet there are also those who--taught that they can become godly by following the law--will become martyrs of the devil, because this futile quest will render them full of despair, fear, and wretchedness, pulled farther and farther from God, Christ--even from the law itself--until they end up in eternal despair in hell. (Am. Ed. 27:8-9; 75:373; 76:7.) Indeed, "every superstition and idolatry truly tortures man" because these martyrs of the devil "unnecessarily impose upon themselves many burdens." (St. L. Ed. 5:781; see Am. Ed. 13:123.)
The devil has greater martyrs than Christ. It's harder for them to earn hell than it is for Christians to earn heaven. The godless do greater, more demanding work. The Christians, however, suffer and have a peaceful, calm heart, while the godless have no rest in the conscience and torture themselves outwardly. . . . What good does it do for them to say: "I meant it so well, prayed accordingly, fasted so much"? For the Turk says the same. (St. L. Ed. 8:144; see Am. Ed. 23:327-328.)
Ultimately, then, suffering and martyrdom cannot be avoided. Either one suffers under Christ's cross as his martyr, while enjoying a quiet conscience at present and a heavenly rest in future glory. Or--trying to earn heaven while actually earning hell--one suffers with an ever restless conscience and lives as the devil's martyr both now and forever. (Am. Ed. 23:359.)
Thus, what makes the difference between Christ's and the devil's martyrs is ultimately faith in the heart, not outward conduct. If there is faith in Christ in the heart, there is peace in the heart even in the midst of severe sufferings, even in a martyr's death. Where faith in Christ is absent, even the most impressive, moral, holy, and outwardly peaceful life and death are worthless and devoid of genuine peace of heart.
The Christian Life: Constant Suffering Until the Last Day
Luther tirelessly underscored that Christ's life, death, resurrection, and sitting at the Father's right hand in glory will not eliminate the enemies of his church on earth until the Last Day. Indeed, while seated at God's right hand in glory, Christ "rules in the midst of his enemies" here on earth until his return in glory (Ps. 110:2).
Who are these enemies? They are "the devil and his scales," that is, tyrants who seek to suppress the gospel and the church "by bloodshed and violence" as well as "sects and false Christians" who seek to do the same "by perverting and falsifying doctrine or by their shameful ingratitude, surfeit, and contempt for the Word." (St. L. Ed. 5:981; see Am. Ed. 13:280-281.)
Luther pointed to the Roman Empire as the prime example of a diabolical tyrant. He expected that this empire alone would deliver "about two million martyrs on the Last Day" (St. L. Ed. 5:982; see Am. Ed. 13:281.)
Luther pointed to the pope as the prime example of doing the devil's work by falsifying Christian doctrine, stating that "it was first the pope who made the best contribution and happened upon the best strategy for weakening Christ's kingdom and strengthening and increasing the devil's kingdom, while doing so under the name of Christ and the church." (St. L. Ed. 5:982; see Am. Ed. 13:281-282.)
Yet despite the serious efforts of empire and pope to snuff out the church, the devil accomplished nothing. The Christians these devilish "scales" martyred are in heaven, while their torturers lie in ashes and must suffer eternal shame and pain. Indeed, "persecuting Christendom only caused it to increase, grow, and spread," so that even the Romans themselves became Christians. (St. L. Ed. 5:982; see Am. Ed. 13:282.) "This is also why one of the ancient fathers said: The blood of the martyrs is a seed. Where one is executed, a hundred spring up again." (St. L. Ed. 5:286; see Am. Ed. 12:174; see also Am. Ed. 79:362-363.)
If the persecutions and million-fold martyrdom of Christians during the time of the Roman Empire and the height of the spiritual power of the papacy are prime examples for Christ's miraculous preservation of his Church on earth, it's not surprising when Luther describes Christ's victorious rule in his Christians among his enemies as follows:
Even though we must suffer and let ourselves be scratched, bitten, and stabbed, both inwardly and outwardly, we should believe and be certain that this our King shall rule and retain the upper hand over and against all these enemies--the devil, sin, death, the world--who are not properly our enemies but his enemies, who torture us on his account. Indeed, he shall rule and be victorious as follows: Even though his Christians feel that they are highly terrified and utterly weak, that they lie under death and hell, Christ nonetheless wills to be powerful in them by his comfort, strength and victory, joy and life, against the devil's terror, against sin, fear, and mortal danger. And they shall overcome in such battle and prevail by faith and comfort of this word--that he is the Lord and Ruler, even in the midst of his enemies [Ps. 110:2]--so that the sin that terrifies and frightens them shall not condemn them and so that death shall have no power over them. Rather, they shall have forgiveness of sins and redemption from death--that is, eternal righteousness, life, and joy--in this Lord. For he gave, sent forth, and preserved this scepter--the word of the gospel--because he wants to stand by and protect his Christians in their suffering, weakness, struggle, and fears, and because he wants to redeem them at last. (St. L. Ed. 5:980-981; Am. Ed. 13:280.)
The victory of Christians on earth is therefore a spiritual, an eternal victory--won by faith in the promise that Christ will rule in the midst of his enemies. What gives visibility to Christ's kingdom on earth are the means of grace and the fruits of faith, not the visible takeover of kingdoms and principalities by Christians:
In invisible essence, this King sits at the right hand of God. But he rules visibly on earth and works through external, visible signs, which are chiefly the preaching of the gospel and the holy sacraments, as well as the public confession and fruits of the gospel that is believed. These are the true marks by which the kingdom of the Lord Christ and the Christian Church are properly recognized and found, namely, where such scepter--that is, the office of preaching the gospel--is used, as it was carried into the world by the apostles and as we have received it from them. Where people have and hold this scepter, there the Christian Church and Christ's kingdom certainly are, no matter how insignificant and small this little flock might be. (St. L. Ed. 5:972; see Am. Ed. 13:272.)
As Luther put it briefly elsewhere, "the Church is not seen by outward peace but by the word and the sacraments. For where you see a little flock that rightly has the gospel and the sacraments, there the Church is, if only the pulpit and the baptismal font are pure." (St. L. Ed. 7:1283; see Am. Ed. 68:265.) Hence Luther's constant opposition against those who--like Thomas Müntzer and other chiliasts--tempted Christians by teaching (and seeking to establish by force of arms) a worldly kingdom of peace and prosperity, devoid of the ungodly, ruled by Christians for Christians, before Christ's return. (E.g., Am. Ed. 68:271-272.)
This sets Christ's kingdom apart from all other kingdoms: His scepter is not military might or political power. His scepter is the gospel itself. It alone advances Christ's kingdom beginning in Jerusalem, and it alone destroys Christ's enemies. (Am. Ed. 12:63-64; 13:265-266)
What is more, the difference between the glory of Christ the King and the lack of glory among his subjects is extraordinary:
It is a wonderous kingdom that this King sits on high at the right hand of God--where he is invisible, a single, eternal, immortal Person--while his people in this miserable, mortal existence here on earth below are subject to death and all sorts of accidents that may happen to humans on earth, so that we all must be buried and turn to ashes. As a result, this King's power and might--although it is greatly praised here [in Ps. 110] that it is called an eternal, almighty power--looks and appears to be nothing everywhere, because the Christians do not enjoy a better life than other people. Indeed, they are plagued by all manner of sadness and heartache much more than others, not only externally by poverty, misery, and all manner of physical suffering and persecution, but also inwardly by fear, sadness, and being afflicted by sin and death. The godless do not experience these in the same way but are free to disregard them smugly, until their hour of death brings them on. As a result, we are, as St. Paul says [1 Cor. 15:19], the most pitiable people on earth as far as this life is concerned.
But because this Lord Christ sits on high at the right hand of God, and because his is not a kingdom of death or sadness and misery but a kingdom of life, peace, joy, and redemption from all evil, it must be that those who are his will not remain in death, fear, terror, affliction, and suffering but must be plucked out of death or the grave and all misery and become alive again in soul and body. (St. L. Ed. 5:936; see Am. Ed. 13:240.)
If Christ therefore "rules in such a way that he redeems from the devil, sin, and death--to whom all humans are subject and from whom no creature can help them--and bestows heavenly, imperishable goods, eternal life, eternal peace instead," his "government neither bestows nor exists for the sake of this life. It is not about how to gain or keep money or possessions, or how to achieve or preserve temporal peace. Rather, it is concerned about having a Lord who helps us even after this life, lest we remain in death and condemnation." (St. L. Ed. 5:935-936; see Am. Ed. 13:239-240.)
Thus, because Christ's kingdom of grace is essentially spiritual in nature, it does not yield any special political privileges or material benefits for Christians as Christians on earth. As Luther noted, Christians are often worse off than unbelievers. Being a member of Christ's church is therefore not an insurance policy against hardships or suffering in this world. It is, in fact, a magnet for all kinds of hardship and suffering. Luther, accordingly, identified suffering and the cross Christians must endure for Christ's sake (Matth. 5:11) as an external mark of the true Church of Christ on earth. (Am. Ed. 41:164-165.)
At the same time, "all temporal things--i.e., the might and power of the whole world--are subject to [Christ's] power, so that he can dispose of them as he pleases, so that the princes and lords must be subject to him and may not act beyond the limits he has established for them." (St. L. Ed. 5:937; see Am. Ed. 13:241.) But unlike his visible rule in his church by the means of grace and the fruits of faith, Christ's rule over the temporal life and political powers is invisible and incomprehensible, although we can know from Romans 8 that Christ exercises it for our eternal good. (Am. Ed. 57:290-292, 299-301.)
Put differently, while God has revealed his gracious will to us in the gospel or the means of grace, he has not revealed to us how he will order and rule our temporal lives. Our fate in this world--including suffering and martyrdom--will therefore not necessarily make sense to us along some clear rules, such as sin leading to punishment in this world or righteousness leading to reward in this world. He has only disclosed that he will rule our temporal lives--including our worldly possessions, health, success, and the fate of the political communities we belong to--for our eternal good (see Rom. 8:28).
Above all, as noted, our earthly lives as Christians will not reflect Christ's heavenly glory in a way that is visible in earthly power, glory, and success. Rather, we will fall prey to Christ's enemies and will be subject to failure.
This is precisely the great offense that causes reason and all the wisdom of the world to stumble: For if this Christ were such a king, seated at the right hand of God, he should not rule in this way. And if it is to be God's kingdom in name and reality, reason says (always judging and criticizing God's works), then he would not let the Christians be so weak and suffer that they are attacked and plagued by everyone. How does he allow it that the good are oppressed while the evil are on top of the world, although he is supposed to be the Wisest, the Best, and the Most Powerful? If he is good and just, why does he overlook so much injustice and allows it to happen? . . .
Well, why does he act this way? These dabblers and "masters" are not to know or understand this about God and his word and work. Rather, in their dabbling and "wisdom," they are to become fools [Rom. 1:22] and mislead themselves. But this is indicated for the Christians that they may learn true divine wisdom in which he wants to be known. For things happen in this way because this kingdom is to be a kingdom of faith, in which God rules wondrously--in a way that is different from what humans understand and comprehend--namely, by hiding his wisdom, power, and might from all reason. He wants to prove these by their opposite, which all people call foolishness and lack of power, even altogether nothing, so that it may become known that, as St. Paul says in 1 Cor. 1:25, things, which in his word and works are like foolishness, are wiser than the wisdom and intelligence of all people, and things, which are like weakness with him, are stronger than the strength and might of all people. In this kingdom, he shall and wants to be called a God and Savior--not of the strong, mighty, wise, and saints (as reason seeks and depicts him) who do not need this God--but of the weak, unwise, insignificant, miserable, and afflicted poor sinners who really need such a God and Savior [Matth. 9:12; 1 Cor. 1:26-30]. In this way, he makes them strong in weakness, righteous and joyful while experiencing the terrors of sin, alive and blessed in suffering and death, as he says in 2 Cor. 12:9: "My strength becomes stronger through weakness." (St. L. 5:949-951; see Am. Ed. 13:253.)
It is therefore by faith in Christ--not by political power--that Christians participate in Christ's rule as King of the whole universe, including his kingship over sin, death, and the devil, by which all these enemies--including suffering, earthly kings, and even tyrants--are theirs and must serve them for their spiritual, eternal good (Am. Ed. 13:241). Luther
explained this in his 1520 treatise on Christian liberty:
Any Christian is so exalted above all things by faith that he, by virtue of this spiritual power, absolutely is a lord over all things, so that nothing at all can harm him in any way. Indeed, all things are subject to him and are forced to serve him toward salvation. Thus Paul says in Rom. 8[:28]: "All things work together for the good of the elect." Likewise, in 1 Cor. 3[:21-23] he says: "All things are yours, whether death or life, whether things present or things to come; but you are Christ's." Not that, by virtue of some physical power, any of the Christians is placed over all things to possess and manage them, as some churchmen madly rage (for this pertains to kings, princes, and humans on earth), when we see in the experience of this life that we are subject to all, suffer much, and even die. Indeed, the more Christian a person is, the more he is subject to evils, sufferings, and death. We see this in Christ, the firstborn prince, and in all his brothers, the saints. Spiritual is this power which rules in the midst of enemies [Ps. 110:2] and which is strong in afflictions. This is nothing other than that strength is made perfect in weakness [2 Cor. 12:9]. And from all things I can derive gain for salvation to the point that even cross and death are forced to serve me and cooperate with me toward salvation. For this is the lofty and eminent authority and true and omnipotent power, a spiritual dominion, in which nothing is so good, nothing so evil that it does not cooperate with me toward good, if only I believe. Yet, because faith alone is sufficient for salvation, I need nothing except faith exercising the power and dominion of its freedom in all things. See, this is this inestimable power and freedom of the Christians. (Weimar Ed. 7:57; see Am. Ed. 31:354-355.)
But why is there this constant, implacable enmity between Christ and his enemies, between Christ's kingdom of grace and the world? Why does the world not tolerate or eagerly embrace Christ and his grace? Luther's straightforward answer points to sin in violation of the First Commandment that must reject the gospel concerning the righteousness of God in favor of its own righteousness:
[The world] does not want to lose its righteousness. It does not want its wisdom to be put to shame. Indeed, it does not want to let go of its glory and might. And, to put it briefly, it does not want to, and cannot, keep the First Commandment but struggles against it with all the powers of its will and intellect and commits all its possessions and goods to this fight.
It should love God and prefer him over all things, but it loves itself and its own possessions. It should raise up and rely on God's righteousness alone, but it venerates its own righteousness so highly that it does not care about God's righteousness at all. This is why, as the monkey loves its own offspring, so the world loves only that which belongs to the world. That's what gives the world joy. That's what it is proud of. That's what inflates itself. Everything else--the things that are outside of the world and are only known by faith--it carelessly neglects and treads underfoot as an unknown treasure. (St. L. Ed. 5:96; see Am. Ed. 12:19-20.)
Luther therefore rooted the enmity between church and world not in what many Christians today consider to be the worst parts of this world--behaviors such as abortion and homosexual marriage. Instead, as a theologian of the cross (1 Cor. 1-2), Luther rooted this implacable enmity in the best parts of the world--the world's striving for righteousness, wisdom, goodness, strength, and glory. The world, therefore, must reject Christ because it pursues its own good things, not because it pursues bad things.
That's also why Christians must suffer and become Christ's martyrs for as long as they live in a fallen world, i.e., until Christ returns. And this constant suffering of Christians is precisely what demonstrates that Christ's visible kingdom is a kingdom of faith, not of sight. Just as Christ's glorious divine nature was hidden under his humble, suffering, and dying human nature, so his glorious reign at God's right hand is now hidden under the suffering of his body on earth. In this sense, Christian suffering is unavoidable and necessary because Christ's glorious reign must remain hidden under its opposite until he returns in glory on the Last Day to reveal the foolishness of the world.
Yet even while Christians suffer, they laugh with God at the devil and the ultimately futile raging of the world against Christ's gospel (Ps. 2:4). Why? Because they know by faith that "at God's right hand sits the one who has made satisfaction for my sins and who has overcome and cast down [the devil] in his flesh," even Christ himself. (St. L. Ed. 5:106; see Am. Ed. 12:27-28; see also Am Ed. 13:241.)
Thus, while the gospel brings the spiritual freedom from sin, death, and the devil, it does not bring the carnal freedom for sinning. Neither does it bring the carnal freedom from suffering for Christ. While Christians rejoice in Christ's omnipotent rule over sin, death, and the devil--and participate in this rule by faith in Christ--they (as Christians) do not control the kingdoms of this world and their amazing resources in a political or physical way.
Summary
While Luther recognized martyrs of Christ at all times of human history after the fall, he does not see martyrdom as an invitation to rubberstamp whatever a given martyr might have done or said. Scripture is and must remain the Church's queen.
Additionally, Luther recognized that all sorts of people are willing to die as martyrs for their convictions, even if those convictions have nothing to do with Christ. In fact, the devil's martyrs will often display more spectacular suffering and works for their goals than Christ's martyrs. But Christians will always suffer and die in this world with a calm conscience because the world, especially when it seeks to be good, righteous, and holy, will always clash with the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Being a Christian is therefore no mandate to rule the kingdoms of this world consistent with Christ's glorious rule in heaven. It is a mandate to lead a life of service, of humbly following Christ's earthly life that ended on the cross.
That's because the gospel does not ennoble human striving for the good in this world by giving us what's even better in heaven. Rather, the gospel proclaims Christ's righteousness, goodness, and holiness that must be embraced by faith in Christ. Because this gospel declares God's judgment over human strivings for what is good, it is rejected by the world and therefore results in suffering and martyrdom on part of the Christians.
It cannot be different in this fallen world. That's why there is no need to go seek suffering by leading an austere life etc. on a voluntary basis. The enemies of the gospel--political tyrants as well as doctrinally corrupt Christians--will soon enough take God's gifts from us, if God so wills it.
In this way, Christ's suffering church on earth continues, and is, the suffering body of the ascended Christ (Acts 9:4). Avoiding suffering when God sends it is not only a form of carnal freedom. Because this avoidance is incompatible with faith in Christ, it also ejects those embracing such freedom from Christ's suffering body on earth and therefore excludes them from Christ's glorified body in heaven.
Indeed, "we must through many tribulations enter the kingdom of God." (Acts 14:22.) That was true for Noah and Shem in the centuries around the Flood. It was true in the first century for Paul, Barnabas, Stephen, and others--including Christ himself. It was true in the 16th century for Luther, Brother Henry, and others. It is true now. And it will remain true until Christ returns.
The gospel brings the joyful freedom from sin. It also brings the joyful freedom for service and love. It even brings joyful freedom for suffering and death. Indeed, contrary to the world's abhorrence of suffering and death (especially for God's spiritual, eternal gifts of forgiveness, life, and salvation in Christ's name), the death of his saints for the gospel is precious in God's sight.
That is why faith in Christ gladly embraces it when our heavenly Father sends it in his grace.
