Having a chat with the Devil about fear

In 1527 Martin Luther provided some theological and practical thoughts on how Christians should respond to the plague. The Black Death (bubonic plague) had swept across Europe several times since its initial appearance in 1350 brought there through trade with Asia. It was discovered in Wittenburg in August, the university was closed, and the students sent home. Luther was busy so he stayed, but in November replied to a pastor on what Christians should do. Luther was always very practical, and of course, people of that era didn't know about bacteria (lived in the intestines of rats and could be transmitted to animals or humans through fleas) or how the disease was spread, but he did know what Scripture said about helping one's neighbor.

He provides almost a script in confronting fears, horror and disgust when caring for the sick (it was a truly ugly, disgusting way to die). His advice is useful when confronting fear of any kind:

When anyone is overcome by horror and repugnance in the presence of a sick person he should take courage and strength in the firm assurance that it is the devil who stirs up such abhorrence, fear, and loathing in this heart. He is such a bitter, knavish devil that he not only unceasingly tries to slay and kill, but also takes delight in making us deathly afraid, worried, and apprehensive so that we should regard dying as horrible and have no rest or peace all through our life. And so the devil would excrete us out of this life as he tries to make us despair of God, become unwilling and unprepared to die, and, under the stormy and dark sky of fear and anxiety, make us forget and lose Christ, our light and life, and desert our neighbor in his troubles. We would sin thereby against God and man; that would be the devil's glory and delight. Because we know that it is the devil's game to induce such fear and dread, we should in turn minimize it, take such courage as to spite and annoy him and send those terrors right back to him. And we should arm ourselves with this answer to the devil:


"Get away, you devil, with your terrors! Just because you hate it, I'll spite you by going the more quickly to help my neighbor, I'll pay no attention to you.

I've got two heavy blows to use against you. The first one is that I know that helping my neighbor is a deed well-pleasing to God and all the angles; by this deed I do God's will and render true service and obedience to him. All the more so because if you hate it so and are so strongly opposed to it, it must be particularly acceptable to God. I'd do this readily and gladly if I could please only one angel who might look with delight on it. But now that it pleases my Lord Jesus Christ and the whole heavenly host because it is the will and command of God, my Father, then how could any fear of you cause me to spoil such joy in heaven or such delight for my Lord? Or how could I, by flattering you, give you and your devils in hell reason to mock and laugh at me? No, you'll not have the last word! If Christ shed his blood for me and died for me, why should I not expose myself to some small dangers for his sake and disregard this feeble plague?

If you can terrorize, Christ can strengthen me.

If you can kill, Christ can give life.

If you have poison in your fangs, Christ has far greater medicine.

Should not my dear Christ, with his precepts, his kindness and all his encouragement, be more important in my spirit than you, roguish devil, with your false terrors in my weak flesh? God forbid! Get away, devil. Here is Christ and here am I, his servant in his work. Let Christ prevail! Amen.

The second blow against the devil is God's mighty promise by which he encourages those who minister to the needy. He says in Psalm 41:1-3, "Blessed is he who considers the poor. The Lord will deliver him in the day of trouble. The Lord will protect him and keep him alive; the Lord will bless him on earth and not give him up to the will of his enemies. The Lord will sustain him on his sickbed. In his illness he will heal all his infirmities."


Are not these glorious and mighty promises of God heaped up upon those who minister to the needy? What should terrorize us or frighten us away from such great and divine comfort? The service we can render to the needy is indeed such a small thing in comparison with God's promises and rewards that St. Paul says to Timothy, "Godliness is of value in every way, and it holds promise both for the present life and for the life to come" I Tim. 4:8. . . [and continues for more pages] from "Whether one may flee from a deadly plague," in Martin Luther's basic theological writings, ed. by Timothy F. Lull, Fortress Press, 1989, p. 736-755

A note with this passage says Luther suffered a severe attack of cerebral anemia in 1527 followed by deep depression which may be one reason for the mild tone!

The 2005 edition of this title has been google scanned.