On Reformation Sunday, Charles Sebold steps back from Luther's biography to ask what the church looked like before him, in "Do Your Best, and God Will Do the Rest." Luther did not stand outside a corrupt system throwing stones; he was the most faithful man inside a sincere system that could never tell him he was forgiven. Beginning with the 1505 thunderstorm that drove the young law student into the Augustinian monastery, the lesson surveys the medieval church: one Latin liturgy and Bible few could read, a papacy claiming submission to Rome was necessary for salvation even as Avignon and the Great Schism left Christians guessing which pope to obey, and a Council of Constance that burned Jan Hus despite his safe conduct. Grace had become an economy of sacraments, penance, purgatory, the treasury of merit, and indulgences, with Wittenberg's 17,443 relics promising nearly two million years of remission, yet no one could ever know whether he had done enough. Underneath it all lay Gabriel Biel's teaching that God does not deny grace to those who do what is in them, the medieval form of "Do your best, and God will do the rest." For an honest man examining his own heart, that offered no assurance. Assigned to lecture on the Bible, Luther found in Romans 1:16-17 and Habakkuk 2:4 that the righteousness of God is not the standard that condemns us but the gift God gives, for God justifies the ungodly. The gospel is not a better version of "do your best"; it is an entirely different message. The Reformation did not invent grace but set a burning lamp back on its lampstand, and every believer must root out "do your best" from his own heart.