that in the convent she would at least receive a good education. Once there, her options were few. So, although Katherine never aspired to the secluded life of a nun, five years later she was transferred to a convent in nearby Nimbschen and made her vows when she was only sixteen years old.
Even though she hadn’t planned for a life of seclusion, poverty, and chastity, Katherine submitted herself to the rigorous routine of sixteenth-century life in the convent. She received the education of a teacher, learning some Latin at a time when many women could not even read in their native tongue. She learned to cook and garden and sew. She said her prayers and attended church services each day.
When Katherine was in her early twenties, the preaching of a man named Martin Luther began to penetrate the convent walls. Luther was a former monk himself and had left the monastery when he came to believe through his personal study of God’s Word that men were saved by faith through grace alone, and not by works of penance or good deeds or service to the church. His preaching in sixteenth-century Germany was causing quite a stir. The German church was still under the authority of the Roman Catholic pope, and Luther’s words stirred not only those within the church, but the common men and women of Germany as well.
When Katherine and her friends began to consider his words, they appealed to Luther for help in leaving the convent. Many had not come to the service of the church under their own free will and felt it was holding them prisoner. Luther even wrote a letter to several nuns about their plight: “Dear sisters . . . You are correct that there are two reasons for which life at the convent and vows may be forsaken: The one is where men’s laws and life within the order are being forced, where there is no free choice, where it is put upon the conscience as a burden. In such cases it is time to run away, leaving the convent and all it entails behind.” 1
So, on Easter eve in 1523, Katherine and eleven other nuns escaped from the convent at Nimbschen, hidden in the wagon of a merchant named Leonard Koppe. Three of the nuns were returned to the homes of their families. The other nine were taken to Wittenburg, where Luther himself hoped to find them all homes, husbands, or positions of some sort. In the end, all were provided for but one. Her name was Katherine von Bora.
Two years after her escape, Katherine was living still with a family in Wittenburg as a domestic servant. She had fallen in love with a young man who promised to marry her, but his parents objected to her status as a former nun. She was brokenhearted. Luther proposed another arranged marriage for her, but she refused the man he suggested. She wasn’t trying to be difficult, although Luther may have thought so. He found her somewhat arrogant when in fact she was embarrassed by her awkward position.
Still, when a friend of Luther’s came to visit, she hinted to him that Luther might be an acceptable husband to her—partly because it seemed so unlikely, and Luther’s age (almost sixteen years her senior) suggested he might never marry.
When Luther heard her words, he did not take Katherine’s suggestion seriously but spoke of it to his parents when he went home to visit. Instead of laughing about it, his father seized upon the idea. His son was not getting any younger, and the elder Luther hinted that he might like to have some grandchildren!
What started as a kind of jest became more and more attractive to Luther. By marrying Katherine, he could give her the status she needed, give testimony to his own faith, spite the pope, and give his father comfort in his old age.
So the former monk, Luther, took as his wife the former nun, Katherine, on the thirteenth of June 1525. To Leonard Koppe, the man who smuggled his wife-to-be out of the convent, Luther wrote this letter of invitation: “I am going to get married. God likes to work miracles and to make a fool of
Even though she hadn’t planned for a life of seclusion, poverty, and chastity, Katherine submitted herself to the rigorous routine of sixteenth-century life in the convent. She received the education of a teacher, learning some Latin at a time when many women could not even read in their native tongue. She learned to cook and garden and sew. She said her prayers and attended church services each day.
When Katherine was in her early twenties, the preaching of a man named Martin Luther began to penetrate the convent walls. Luther was a former monk himself and had left the monastery when he came to believe through his personal study of God’s Word that men were saved by faith through grace alone, and not by works of penance or good deeds or service to the church. His preaching in sixteenth-century Germany was causing quite a stir. The German church was still under the authority of the Roman Catholic pope, and Luther’s words stirred not only those within the church, but the common men and women of Germany as well.
When Katherine and her friends began to consider his words, they appealed to Luther for help in leaving the convent. Many had not come to the service of the church under their own free will and felt it was holding them prisoner. Luther even wrote a letter to several nuns about their plight: “Dear sisters . . . You are correct that there are two reasons for which life at the convent and vows may be forsaken: The one is where men’s laws and life within the order are being forced, where there is no free choice, where it is put upon the conscience as a burden. In such cases it is time to run away, leaving the convent and all it entails behind.” 1
So, on Easter eve in 1523, Katherine and eleven other nuns escaped from the convent at Nimbschen, hidden in the wagon of a merchant named Leonard Koppe. Three of the nuns were returned to the homes of their families. The other nine were taken to Wittenburg, where Luther himself hoped to find them all homes, husbands, or positions of some sort. In the end, all were provided for but one. Her name was Katherine von Bora.
Two years after her escape, Katherine was living still with a family in Wittenburg as a domestic servant. She had fallen in love with a young man who promised to marry her, but his parents objected to her status as a former nun. She was brokenhearted. Luther proposed another arranged marriage for her, but she refused the man he suggested. She wasn’t trying to be difficult, although Luther may have thought so. He found her somewhat arrogant when in fact she was embarrassed by her awkward position.
Still, when a friend of Luther’s came to visit, she hinted to him that Luther might be an acceptable husband to her—partly because it seemed so unlikely, and Luther’s age (almost sixteen years her senior) suggested he might never marry.
When Luther heard her words, he did not take Katherine’s suggestion seriously but spoke of it to his parents when he went home to visit. Instead of laughing about it, his father seized upon the idea. His son was not getting any younger, and the elder Luther hinted that he might like to have some grandchildren!
What started as a kind of jest became more and more attractive to Luther. By marrying Katherine, he could give her the status she needed, give testimony to his own faith, spite the pope, and give his father comfort in his old age.
So the former monk, Luther, took as his wife the former nun, Katherine, on the thirteenth of June 1525. To Leonard Koppe, the man who smuggled his wife-to-be out of the convent, Luther wrote this letter of invitation: “I am going to get married. God likes to work miracles and to make a fool of
Similar Books
