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The year was 1525, and Europe buzzed with religious upheaval. Martin Luther had already nailed his theses to the Wittenberg door eight years earlier. Reformers across Europe challenged Catholic teachings and practices. Yet in the Swiss city of Zurich, a group of believers, later known as Anabaptists, felt the Reformation wasn’t going far enough.

These men and women called themselves simply “brethren.” They embraced the reformers’ call to return to biblical Christianity. However, they believed reform was moving too slowly and compromised too much with worldly powers.

Martin Luther never intended to start a new denomination. The Augustinian monk simply wanted Rome to stop selling salvation in the form of indulgences. Yet, his challenge to Rome’s authority set in motion reforms and divisions that reshaped Christianity

October 31, 1517 marked the beginning of something Luther never envisioned. He posted ninety-five theses on Wittenberg’s castle church door, challenging the Catholic Church’s practice of selling indulgences. Indulgences supposedly reduced punishment for sins in purgatory, enriching papal coffers while exploiting desperate believers.

By the late medieval period, the Roman Catholic Church had become Europe’s most powerful institution. It crowned kings, shaped laws, and claimed spiritual authority over millions of souls. Yet beneath this impressive facade, serious problems had taken root.

Wealthy families bought church positions, bishops collected salaries from regions they never visited, and priests sold salvation itself. The Church owned vast estates while preaching poverty, and at one point, three different men claimed to be pope simultaneously.

In this environment of spiritual compromise, courageous voices began to rise. Two men stood out as proto-reformers: John Wycliffe in England and John Huss in Bohemia (modern-day Czech Republic). They lived generations before Martin Luther would nail his theses to the Wittenberg door, but they lit fires that would eventually consume medieval Christianity as Europe knew it.

By the late Middle Ages, the Roman Catholic Church was the most powerful institution in Europe. It shaped laws, crowned kings, and claimed authority over the people. But behind its authority and rituals, corruption had taken root. Many ordinary Christians had grown uneasy, knowing that something had gone terribly wrong.

Over time, the Church had gained wealth, land, and influence. With that power came temptation. Leaders began to treat spiritual positions as tools for personal gain. Instead of serving the people and pointing them to Christ, many used the Church to enrich themselves, reward their families, or control politics. Jesus warned about this: “You cannot serve God and money” (Mt 6:24). But by this point, money had clearly taken the lead.

Imagine you’re a first-century disciple of Jesus who time-travels to the year 1050 A.D. You attend a local church, but after the assembly ends, you’re bewildered. You’re not even sure you met with fellow disciples. So much has changed—doctrine, structure, and worship—that the church looks almost nothing like the one Jesus started. Over the past 1,000 years, doctrinal drift has made the church of the 11th century nearly unrecognizable.

What began as a grassroots movement of house churches had become two rival institutions: the Roman Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox churches. Both had developed layers of ritual, hierarchy, and doctrine unknown to the apostles. While the name “Christianity” remained, many core teachings and practices had shifted. Sometimes radically.