I never believed Luther hurled that inkwell at the Devil – until a night came when I understood exactly why he would.
By Rev. Mark Creech, DHL
RevMarkCreech.org
It’s been said that while Martin Luther was at Wartburg Castle translating the Bible, the Devil himself visited him. Satan, violently opposed to the reformer’s divine mission, sought to tempt, distract, and thwart the work. In response, Luther is said to have snatched up the inkwell from which he was writing and hurled it at the Evil One’s head.
For generations, tourists who visited Luther’s study at Wartburg were shown the dark stain on the wall – the supposed mark where the inkwell struck. Today, many dismiss the story as legend, an embellishment of overzealous admirers. Some explain it away through psychology; others relegate it to allegory. Tour guides no longer mention it, and the stain itself has either faded or been quietly scrubbed away by someone embarrassed by what they deemed the “silliness” of such a tale.
I, too, once chuckled at the story and filed it away as pious folklore – until something happened to me that forever changed my posture toward such accounts.
It occurred during an exceptionally difficult season in one of my former pastorates. One sleepless night, after wandering restlessly through my house while my family slept, I finally settled into a recliner in the living room. That’s when it happened – an experience I can only describe as a place between being awake and asleep. I was not dreaming. I was fully conscious, my senses unusually heightened, yet I was completely immobilized – unable to move.
Then my eyes caught a shadowy, humanoid figure in the corner of the room. The presence radiated hatred – pure, unfiltered malice. It cursed me with a profanity so foul, so venomous, that its very sound turned my stomach. I needed no introduction. I knew instinctively that I was in the presence of a demon.
The entity claimed to have stalked me throughout my life. It recounted episodes when I had nearly died, taking credit for each incident. Most disturbing of all, while the demon remained motionless in the corner, I could feel its breath on my ear.
“I have failed again and again to destroy you,” it said to me, “but I will kill you. I will get you yet.” It repeated this threat several times.
Then, in the midst of the terror, a calm and gentle voice spoke – not audibly, but unmistakably: “Rebuke him in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and he will leave you.” I obeyed. The moment I uttered the words, the wicked presence vanished, and my paralysis lifted.
I know it sounds unbelievable – fantastical even. Some will mock this account as the ramblings of an unbalanced mind. Others will attribute it to stress, exhaustion, or a psychological episode. But I know what happened. It was as real as anything I have ever experienced. For a moment, God permitted me to glimpse an unseen realm -where forces of light and darkness contend, and where spiritual realities influence the visible world.
Shaken to my core, I begged God for understanding. “Why would You allow such a horrifying encounter, Lord? What does it mean?” I prayed.
The answer came with the dawn – not through a voice or an angel, but as a sweet, unmistakable impression from the Spirit of God:
“You fear so much of what you can see, but there are far more fearful things unseen that mean you harm. Yet just as I restrained that demon in the corner and forbade it to touch you – just as I hindered his earlier attempts to kill you – I am with you now as then. Evil cannot lay a hand on you except as it serves your good, glorifies My name, and advances My kingdom. Stop being afraid. Stop fearing the faces of men. None is nearly as terrible as the incarnate evil you witnessed. Trust Me. Fear Me alone, for I am Sovereign over all things.”
That night marked a watershed moment in my life and ministry – a turning point from anxiety to confidence in God’s sovereignty. In the years since, I have faced angry crowds, hecklers, hate mail, hostile legislators pointing their fingers in my face, threatening phone calls, and much more. But none of these have ever equaled the dread of that demonic encounter.
And I learned something vital: God truly does restrain evil. Even the wrath of men is made to praise Him. Satan’s attempts to frustrate God’s purposes ultimately serve to fulfill them.
I might dismiss that night as a fluke. Maybe it was something I ate, or a fevered imagination. But Scripture affirms the reality of such encounters. The apostle Paul wrote: “For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12). Yet Scripture also anchors us in the absolute power and authority of God: “I am God, and there is no other… My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please” (Isaiah 46:9–10).
Martin Luther captured this truth in his great hymn, A Mighty Fortress Is Our God:
And though this world with devils filled
Should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed
His truth to triumph through us.
The prince of darkness grim –
We tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure,
For lo, his doom is sure;
One little word shall fell him.
I am by no means a Martin Luther. Still, because of my own experience – and because of what Scripture teaches – I am far more inclined to believe that Luther really did throw his inkwell at the Devil.
Author’s Note:
In recent days, Tucker Carlson has been excoriated for describing a demonic encounter of his own—an experience many have mocked, dismissed, or used to discredit him. The following testimony was originally published years ago under the title “The Night the Demon Visited.” I have updated and expanded it here as a companion piece to my recent article, “Tucker Carlson, the Devil, and the Mob: When God Draws Near, Darkness Pushes Back.”
Though our stories differ, they both point to the same biblical truth: when God draws near to strengthen His servants, the powers of darkness do not stand idle. They push back—but they cannot prevail.
