Dramatis Personae: Luther
Bishop
Scholar
Innkeeper
Innkeeper bustles, doing innkeeper kinds of things. She pauses to dust the painting, then stares at the painting for a moment, lost. Reverie broken by knock on door. Goes to answer.
Innkeeper: Come on in, sir, do take a seat and rest a while. I see you are a scholar; aren’t you a long ways from your university? What brings you all the way out here to my tavern?
Scholar: It is actually your tavern I’ve come to see. That painting here, above the table, is one I’ve studied for a long time and have finally tracked down to your inn.
Innkeeper: Oh, that? I’m holding it here for a friend of mine who will take it to the Staatliche Museen zu
Scholar: It does deserve to be seen. What do you know of this painting?
Innkeeper: Sighs I love looking at this painting, but I hate to say it, its origins are unknown to me. I don’t even know what amazing man painted it.
Scholar: Smiles That would be the Dutch painter Pieter Bruegel the Elder. He painted this one in 1559 on an oak panel—but of course, you can see that, as well as the beautiful oil paint he used.
Innkeeper: Ah, so that’s why it’s so heavy!
Scholar: So true. This one depicts over a hundred proverbs on one canvas.
Innkeeper: I knew that. The poor man hitting his head against the brick wall always strikes me on a busy night here at the tavern. Speaking of which—
Door knock again.
Innkeeper: Two this time, and quarreling so! Please, sirs, sit down here with this good scholar. I’m sure you’ll have plenty to talk about.
Bishop: That’s for sure! This fool Martin Luther has been trying to convince me that I should get a wife!
Innkeeper: Really? But you are a man of God. How can he say you could possibly ever have a wife?
Scholar: Interesting. . . with all due respect, your greatness, it really does not make much sense to me how we see so many holy men lose the benefits of family life for their ministry.
Luther: We see also how many a poor priest is encumbered with a woman and children and burdened in his conscience, and no one does anything to help him.
Innkeeper: Oh, I’ve heard of such scandals shared many a night over brimming cups of ale here in my tavern. Rumors abound that this, that, or the other man might the son of a priest. What do I care, so long as they continue to stay here and pay me their fines?
Scholar: You know, your painting here has a pun for the supposedly unmarried—the man who marries under the broomstick lives without marrying at all.
Luther: What a wonderful painting. It puts proverbs in a beautiful setting that the commoners can understand. I approve of this.
Bishop: But the subject matter is so dull. The people should not be wasting their time with silly proverbs when they should be contemplating the wondrous teachings of the church, which the beautiful works in any cathedral can communicate well as this.
Scholar: Why don’t they just read it all?
Innkeeper: Because not all of us can read, remember? Most of are quite intelligent, but never had the benefit of your university training.
Luther: Anyway, I digress. According to the ordinances of Christ and His Apostles, every town should have a minister or bishop, as
Bishop: Yes, I am a bishop, get on with it. . .
Luther: . . . and this minister should not be forced to live without a lawful wife, but should be allowed to have one, as St. Paul writes, saying that “a bishop then must be blameless, the husband of one wife. . . having his children in subjection with all gravity.
Bishop: points to picture. . . Like this proverb implies, if you are not meant to be their keeper, will you let geese be geese. Do not interfere in matters that are not your concern. Another proverb concerns the question as to why geese go barefoot, it explains that there is a reason for everything, though it may not be obvious. As the Pope says, “. . .”
Luther: The Pope! Snorts Has not the Pope often erred? Who could help Christianity, in case the Pope errs, if we do not rather believe another who has the Scriptures for him?
Scholar: Hmm, if the blind lead the blind, both will fall into the ditch. I understand you perfectly, Luther.
Innkeeper absentmindedly finds the place on the painting.
Bishop: But the Pope is infallible!
Luther: It is a wickedly devised fable—and you cannot quote a single letter to confirm it—that it is for the Pope alone to interpret the Scriptures or to confirm the interpretation of them.
Innkeeper: I recognize you now! You’re that rabble-rouser, the one who caused the Peasant’s Rebellion! You carry fire in one hand and water in the other—you claim to be giving us independent thought, but instead, 80,000 are dead because of your teachings. Do you know how long it took me to build up this business after the Peasant’s Rebellion? I thought I believed you, too, but not now with so many of my friends, family, and loved ones dead.
Scholar: Peasants fought for scholarly reasons?
Innkeeper: Surely you should be aware of this!
Bishop: My church was all but destroyed by this rebellion!
Luther: I never wanted any of this to happen; I just wanted to give the people a greater knowledge of God. Don’t you want that, too, your greatness?
Bishop: All they need to know are the teachings and the authority of the church.
Scholar: He who eats fire shits sparks. Do not be surprised at the outcome if you attempt a dangerous venture.
Innkeeper: I don’t know. After the rebellion, I don’t think I know anything any more. It would be a comfort to be further taught of God, to understand why all this suffering happened. The times are changing. You should hang your cloak to the wind, your greatness, change your perspective a bit more with the changing times, and listen more to the people you serve in the name of God.
Bishop: What can smoke do to iron? There’s no point in trying to change the unchangeable. “The grass withers and the flowers fade, but the word of the lord remains forever.”
Luther: Than why does the church change it with the practice of indulgences? Do you, perhaps, follow the proverb that says that love is on the side where the money bag hangs? Can God’s free love be bought by indulgences? If that is true, then you tie a flaxen beard to the face of Christ, hiding deceit under a veneer of Christian piety.
Scholar: How interesting. Didn’t Christ have to pay for our sins, in a sense?
Luther: Which means they’re already paid for, and don’t need to be paid for again.
Innkeeper: So you mean all the money I’ve spent to send my dead husband heavenward is wasted? Grace is free?
Bishop: The world is turned upside down; everything is opposite of what it should be!
Scholar: Wry Smile So then, you do not wish to follow the very scriptures that give you your job, your greatness? It sounds like shoddy study to me. It would seem as though you are a pillar-biter, a religious hypocrite like the one pictured here.
Innkeeper: I hate to play on the pillory or attract attention to your shameful acts, but as much as I may agree with Luther and the honorable scholar here, I do not want trouble in my tavern. If you men wish to argue, please step outside. I’ll have no name-calling, especially when none of you have ordered anything this entire time. You shoot a second bolt to find the first, or repeat your foolish actions by wasting my time and my money. Either pay to stay or leave.
Scholar: But I see bears dancing! I’m starving!
Bishop: I find the dog in the pot here. It is too late to prevent the trouble that comes at the church, I suppose, and furthermore, to prevent the trouble of being tossed out of an inn. Please, can’t you spare a bishop some supper?
Innkeeper: The sow pulls the bung. Your negligence rewards you with this disaster.
Luther: I’m hungry, too! We will be able to tie the devil to a pillow! Through obstinacy, we will overcome!
Scholar: A wall with cracks will soon fail.
Innkeeper: All right, all right, my management’s just fine. What will you be having for supper, then?
All three: FOOD!
