A mighty fortress is our God,
A sword and shield victorious;
He breaks the cruel oppressor's rod
And wins salvation glorious.
The old satanic foe
Has sworn to work us woe!
With craft and dreadful might
He arms himself to fight.
On earth he has no equal.
No strength of ours can match his might!
We would be lost, rejected.
But now a champion comes to fight,
Whom God himself elected.
You ask who this may be?
The Lord of hosts is he!
Christ Jesus, mighty Lord,
God's only Son, adored.
He holds the field victorious.
Though hordes of devils fill the land
All threat'ning to devour us,
We tremble not, unmoved we stand;
They cannot over pow'r us.
Let this world's tyrant rage;
In battle we'll engage!
His might is doomed to fail;
God's judgment must prevail!
One little word subdues him.
God's Word forever shall abide,
No thanks to foes, who fear it;
For God himself fights by our side
With weapons of the Spirit.
Were they to take our house,
Goods, honor, child, or spouse,
Though life be wrenched away,
They cannot win the day.
The Kingdom's ours forever!
-Lutheran Book of Worship 229; Text by Martin Luther
[taken from A Contemporary Translation of Luther's Small Catechism]
A mighty fortress is our God,
A trusty shield and weapon;
He helps us free from every need,
That hath us now o'ertaken.
The old evil foe,
Now means deadly woe;
Deep guile and great might,
Are his dread arms in fight;
On earth is not his equal.
With might of ours can naught be done,
Soon were our loss effected;
But for us fights the Valiant One,
Whom God Himself elected.
Ask ye, who is this?
Jesus Christ it is,
Of Sabaoth Lord,
And there’s none other God;
He holds the field forever.
Though devils all the world should fill,
All eager to devour us.
We tremble not, we fear no ill,
They shall not overpow'r us.
This world’s prince may still,
Scowl fierce as he will,
He can harm us none,
He’s judged; the deed is done;
One little word can fell him.
The Word they still shall let remain,
Nor any thanks have for it;
He’s by our side upon the plain,
With His good gifts and Spirit.
And take they our life,
Goods, fame, child and wife,
Though these all be gone,
Our victory has been won;
The Kingdom ours remaineth!
[Let these all be gone,
They yet have nothing won;
The kingdom ours remaineth.]
Traditional and Well Known Version
[translator? Apparently Frederick H. Hedge in 1853]
A mighty fortress is our God,
A bulwark never failing;
Our helper He, amid the flood
Of mortal ills prevailing:
For still our ancient foe
Doth seek to work us woe;
His craft and power are great,
And, armed with cruel hate,
On earth is not his equal.
Did we in our own strength confide,
Our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side,
The Man of God’s own choosing:
Dost ask who that may be?
Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth, His name,
From age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.
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.
That word above all earthly powers,
No thanks to them, abideth;
The Spirit and the gifts are ours
Through Him who with us sideth:
Let goods and kindred go,
This mortal life also;
The body they may kill:
God’s truth abideth still,
His kingdom is forever.
translator Thomas Carlyle
[source]
1 A safe stronghold our God is still,
a trusty shield and weapon;
he'll keep us clear from all the ill
that hath us now o'ertaken.
The ancient prince of hell
hath risen with purpose fell;
strong mail of craft and power
he weareth in this hour;
on earth is not his fellow.
2 With force of arms we nothing can,
full soon were we down-ridden;
but for us fights the proper Man
whom God himself hath bidden.
Ask ye who is this same?
Christ Jesus is his name,
the Lord Sabaoth's Son;
he, and no other one,
shall conquer in the battle.
3 And were this world all devils o'er,
and watching to devour us,
we lay it not to heart so sore;
they cannot overpower us.
And let the prince of ill
look grim as e'er he will,
he harms us not a whit;
for why? his doom is writ;
a word shall quickly slay him.
4 God's word, for all their craft and force,
one moment will not linger,
but, spite of hell, shall have its course;
'tis written by his finger.
And though they take our life,
goods, honour, children, wife,
yet is their profit small;
these things shall vanish all:
the city of God remaineth.
translator Jos. A. Seiss.
[source]
A mighty fortress is our God,
A trusty shield and weapon;
He helps us free through every need
That hath us now o'ertaken.
The old murd'rous foe
Now means deadly woe;
Much craft and great power,
Are his dread arms for war;
On earth is no one like him.
By our own strength we naught can do,
Full soon would come destruction;
But for us fights the Hero true,
Of God's own self's election.
Who's He, would ye wist?
He's called Jesus Christ,
Lord of Sabaoth,
The only God in truth;
The field He must hold surely.
And were the world all devils o'er,
Who'd fain devour and end us;
We're still not so o'erwhelmed with fear,
The victory must attend us.
This world's price so fell,
May threat'n as he will,
Still full safe are we;
For judged and banned is he;
One little text can stay him.
The Word they shall let stand for aye,
Nor thanks be to them for it;
'Tis He upholds us 'mid the fray,
With his good gifts and Spirit.
If they take our life,
Goods, name, child and wife,
Let all this be done!
They yet have nothing won;
And we still have the Kingdom.
translator Thos. C. Porter.
[source]
A Tower of Strength our God is still,
A good Defense and Weapon;
He helps us free from all the ill,
That us hath overtaken.
Our old, mortal Foe
Now aims his fell blow,
Great might and deep guile
His horrid coat-of-mail;
On earth ls no one like him.
By might of ours can naught be done;
Our fate were soon decided–
But for us fights the Champion,
By God Himself provided.
Who is This, ask ye?
Jesus Christ! 'Tis He!
Lord of Sabaoth,
True God and Saviour both,
Omnipotent in battle.
Did devils fill the earth and air,
All eager to devour us,
Our steadfast hearts need feel no care,
Lest they should overpower us.
The grim Prince of Hell,
With rage though he swell,
Hurts us not a whit,–
Because his doom is writ;
A little word can rout him.
The Word of God will never yield
To any creature living;
He stands with us upon the field,
His grace and Spirit giving.
Take they child and wife,
Goods, name, fame and life–
Though all this be done,
Yet have they nothing won;
The Kingdom still remaineth.
translator Phil. Buttmann
[source]
Arx flrma Deus noster est
Is telum, quo nitamur;
Is explicat ex omnibus
Queis malis implicamur.
Nam cui semper mos,
lam ter terret nos,
Per astum, per vim,
Saevum levat sitim;
Nil par in terris illi.
In nobis nihil situm est,
Quo minus pereamus;
Quem Deus ducem posuit,
Is facit ut vivamus.
Sein quis hoc potest?
Jesus Christus est,
Qui, dux coelitum;
Non habet aemulum;
Is vicerit profecto.
Sit mundus plenus daemonum,
Nos cupiant vorare,
Non timor est; victoria
Nil potest nos frustrare.
Hem dux saeculi!
Invitus abi!
In nos nil potes,
lam judicatus es;
Vel vocula te sternat.
Hoc verbum non pessum dabunt,
Nec gratiam merebunt.
In nobis Christi spiritus
Et munera vigebunt:
Tollant corpus, rem,
Mundique omnem spem:
Tollant! jubilent!
Non lucrum hinc ferent;
Manebit regnum nobis.
