The Gottesdienst Crowd

TGC 127 — Trinity 14 Sermon Prep

This episode is devoted to the Gospel reading for Trinity 14, Luke 17:11–19.

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[Gottesblog] A Reply to the Texas District Paper on Internet Communion — Larry Beane

A Reply to the Texas District Paper on Internet Communion

Here is the video of the recent three-martini Texas District convention.

Someone shared this with me as a chance to respond to the “Bible Study” that begins at roughly 1:09 and ends at 2:04. The official title is “The Church in a Post-Covid World,” but that’s not really what it is about. It is, in fact, an advocacy and apologia for “internet communion.”

The presenter is the Rev. Zach McIntosh of Concordia Lutheran Church in San Antonio. He seems like a nice, bright guy. And I have to say that I like the fact that he’s a McIntosh. His Highlander ancestors probably fought with mine in the wars of Scottish independence with a confederation known as the Clan of Cats. I have to give him props for that, especially as we Celts are dreadfully outnumbered by Germans in our synod. Having said that, the cuisine in Texas and Louisiana beat anything cooked up by Scots or Germans.

That said, I have to give him a demerit for lecturing about Holy Communion (part of his argument for internet communion is the profound importance of the Holy Sacrament) given that his congregation only celebrates it on the first Sunday of the month. I cannot even grasp it. Not counting holidays, that’s twelve times a year. That sounds like starvation rations to me. My little congregation offers the Holy Sacrament more than a hundred times a year. Perhaps Pastor McIntosh can give a presentation to his own congregation on Article 24 and the importance of the Holy Eucharist and its frequent reception. I notice that other advocates of home-internet communion tend to be pastors of churches that practice infrequent communion. I have no explanation for this.

All that said, Pastor McIntosh is open and honest that this is indeed a position paper more than a Bible Study. He presents it based on four “theses.” A thesis is part of an argument. And during the course of his talk, he openly admits that the real question behind the paper, that is the real thesis statement is: “Is it possible for a local church to rightly participate together in a livestreamed Word and Sacrament service while remaining in their individual homes?” And he is open about his answer: Yes, he is “sympathetic” to the idea of a livestreamed “Word and Sacrament” service. He also admits that the service of the Word is not really problematic, but the service of the Sacrament is the actual controversial issue. And that it is.

His four theses are:

1. The Church is Invisible.

2. The Church is Confessional.

3. The Church is Inter-Spatial.

4. The Church is Fraternal.

    

The Church is Invisible

This is really nothing more than the assertion that faith is invisible. He cites Eph 5:33, AC 7&8, he quotes Luther using the term “invisible,” and cites 1 Cor 6:19 and 1 Pet 2:5.

The Church is Confessional

He explains the development of the ecumenical creeds and the Lutheran confessions. He argues that although the Bible, Creeds, and Confessions never address remote electronic worship, we can use these resources to discern whether we should or should not make use of such technology. One statement that he makes is “There was no Mass when the New Testament was written.” This is simply untrue. Jesus established the Lord’s Supper “on the night when He was betrayed.” St. Paul, in 1 Cor 11, explains that the Words of Institution were already a tradition that was handed over to him when he was writing the letter in about 55 AD. Indeed, the Sacrament of the Altar was being celebrated by the apostles on a weekly basis very early on, according to Acts 2:42, when none of the New Testament had even yet been written. Pastor McIntosh refers to this very verse later on.

This thesis that “The Church is Confessional” is really just a premise to use the confessions to make arguments regarding administration of the Sacrament. For some reason, he omitted the longest treatment of the Divine Service and Holy Communion in the Book of Concord: Article 24 in the Augsburg Confession and the Apology.

The Church is Inter-Spatial

This is where the rubber meets the road, as they used to say in Akron, Ohio. This word “inter-spatial” is a neologism coined by the presenter just to make the obvious point that the Church is both universal and local. He addresses the universality of the Church by appealing to the Una Sancta of the Nicene Creed. More accurately, the Church is “catholic.” The word “Universal” is a weak translation of καθολικός, which comes from two words: κατά (kata - according to) and ὅλος (holos - the whole).

Catholicity not only means that the Church is more than simply the local congregation, it means that the Church is una owing to a wholesomeness and fullness of doctrine. And it is ironic that he should appeal to the Church’s catholicity to argue for communion celebrated by either laymen speaking the verba, or the remote words of a pastor who is not present for the consecration. This is as un-catholic as you can get. It is sectarian, as no historic communion that confesses the Real Presence ever had, or has, practiced this, or confessed a doctrine that allows it.

Pastor McIntosh points out the both/and nature of the universality and the locality of the Church by comparing it to an interstate highway that is both within states, and crosses state lines. I think this illustration betrays him, as we are talking about roads that actually exist in space and time. You cannot be on Interstate-10 and not exist somewhere physically. If I’m in a Zoom session in Iowa, then I’m not on I-10. Roads are incarnational. The fact that the road is in California doesn’t negate the fact that when I’m driving to Baton Rouge, I’m in Louisiana.

He uses the term “ecclesiis sanctorum” from Jerome’s Latin of 1 Cor 14:33. He translates this as “multiple churches with many holy ones.” “Sanctorum” is a genitive plural. It is better translated as “churches of the saints,” as does the ESV. Of course, there are multiple churches in the sense of local congregations, even as there is one holy catholic and apostolic Church (una sancta). This reality has nothing to do with internet communion.

He tries to argue for internet communion based on Acts 4:42, 46-47 - “breaking bread in their homes.” Of course, prior to Constantine, nearly all Christian worship was conducted in homes. There is no indication that these services were lay-led, or that the pastors somehow conducted services from afar, perhaps by epistle or messenger or carrier pigeon. And local churches meet in homes to this very day, including parishes of our sister church body, the Siberian Evangelical Lutheran Church. I visited one such congregation in 2015, with a Divine Service held in a parishioner’s apartment. But the Mass was officiated by ordained clergymen who drove a long way to lead the service. It would be unthinkable to our sister church body to conduct a Divine Service over Zoom, or to just have the laity speak the verba over bread and wine themselves - in spite of the reality that it takes a lot of time and money to physically travel. And it was the same way in the LCMS’s frontier days.

Pastor McIntosh cites Luther giving assent to meeting “alone in a house somewhere… to baptize and to receive the sacrament” (AE:53:63-64). But the larger context is not lay-led communion or allowing pastors to somehow consecrate from afar. This quotation comes from The German Mass and Order of Service (1526). In it, Luther identifies three types of “divine service or mass.”

The first is the Evangelical Latin Mass, to be used in a parochial setting where the people speak Latin. The second is the German Mass, which is to be used for “untrained lay folk” who do not speak Latin. And then there is the “third kind of service,” which:

should be a truly evangelical order and should not be held in a public place for all sorts of people. But those who want to be Christians in earnest and who profess the gospel with hand and mouth should sign their names and meet alone in a house somewhere to pray, to read, to baptize, to receive the sacrament, and to do other Christian works. According to this order, those who do not lead Christian lives should be known, reproved, corrected, cast out, or excommunicated, according to the rule of Christ, Matthew 18. Here one could also solicit benevolent gifts to be willingly given and distributed to the poor, according to St. Paul’s example, II Corinthians 9. Here would be no need for much and elaborate singing. Here one could set up a brief and neat order for baptism and the sacrament and center everything on the Word, prayer, and love. Here one would need a good short catechism on the Creed, the Ten Commandments, and the Our Father.

Nowhere does Luther advocate lay-led or remotely-led clerical ministry of Sacraments. He is describing a house-church - obviously where there is no Evangelical parish church to attend. This was certainly the case in many places during the Reformation. Luther is describing what we would call today, a “church plant,” and avers that “the rules and regulations would soon be ready.” In fact, Luther goes on to say that church planting is not his particular thing, but “if I should be requested to do it, and could not refuse with a good conscience, I should gladly do my part and help as best I can.” He adds, “In the meanwhile, the two above-mentioned orders of service [i.e. the Latin and German parochial Masses] must suffice.” He also warns of the risks of such a church, that care should be taken lest it “turn into a sect.”

Pastor McIntosh does finally admit the real crux of the problem: “There’s not a pastor there.” So how does a pastor give care and oversight when he’s not in the same room? He acknowledges the limits of pastoral care even in the same room, such as the pastor’s inability to know about all people who should be excluded from the Christian congregation because of wickedness. He points to St. Paul’s giving pastoral care remotely. And here, I think Pastor McIntosh sinks his own boat.

Giving remote pastoral care is nothing new. But let’s consider how technology has or has not been used. We have audio and video livestreaming today, but we have had the ability to send remote visual and audio images over the air since the 1940s. The LCMS was actually a pioneer in television programming. But no one in decades past, in the Golden Age of television, ever encouraged people at home in the viewing audience to put bread and wine on a TV tray while a televised pastor “teleconsecrated” the elements. There were services for shut-ins, but no suggestion of some kind of “private Mass” with “home communion” over the airwaves.

And before TV, we had radio, the technology of which predates the 20th century. And yet not even during World War I and the 1918 Spanish Flu pandemic was anyone suggesting the use of the pastor’s transmitted radio voice to “teleconsecrate” remote elements. Before radio was the telephone. And even before the telephone, dating back to 1844, Samuel Morse found a way to encode words over telegraph lines. And again, not even in remote frontier locations did anyone even dream of having a pastor send a consecratory telegram or phone in the Words of Institution.

And long before electronic communication, we had pen and ink technology and mail delivery. And this is where Pastor McIntosh defeats his own argument. St. Paul indeed provided pastoral care remotely by means of epistles. But not even in 1 Cor 11 does the apostle ask that the verba be read by a layman over bread and wine outside of the pastor’s sight and control. Rather, Paul preaches the Word and gives catechetical instruction in writing. Baptisms and Eucharists were conducted by “elders” (presbyters) who were appointed for pastoral service in the local churches.

The Church is Fraternal

Pastor McIntosh’s last thesis has nothing to do with the argument other than to try to prevent argument. He uses AC 26:44 “Diversity does not violate the unity of the Church” to argue that whether one uses internet communion or not, this doesn’t affect our unity. He said, “False doctrine, yeah, that’s a problem… but not every diverse practice is evidence of doctrinal disagreement.” And that is true. But it is equally true that not every expression of diversity is evidence of correct doctrine. He should not assume that internet communion is as indifferent as the color of the walls in the parish hall. We are dealing with the consecration of the elements. That is not a matter of “anything goes.” Contextually, Article 26 is dealing with diversity in fasting practices, not with consecrating the elements.

This is a very different matter.

In his conclusion, Pastor McIntosh says, “It’s so important to continue to offer, whether it’s in a cathedral or in a condo, the gifts of God to the people of God” [including] “the reception of the sacraments.” Yes, this is true. And parish pastors typically celebrate Masses in church buildings on Sundays, and often during the week at hospital beds for patients and at kitchen or living room tables for shut-ins. Yes, we do this both “in the cathedral and in the condo,” so to speak. But the point is that we pastors celebrate and consecrate, we preach, baptize, and absolve as circumstances dictate. We don’t just tell the shut-ins to commune themselves. We don’t just facetime them and say “magic words” while they hold the phone over bread and wine. That would be to treat the consecration as ex opere operato.

Pastor McIntosh’s presentation overlooks and omits all of the potential problems of remote consecration - assuming that it is even valid. But let’s say that it is valid for the sake of argument. There are unintended consequences.

For example, if I’m consecrating at the altar, and I misspeak a word, or get tongue-tied, I can simply repeat the verba. This is what celebrants are instructed to do based on the fact that we have been doing this for nearly two millennia, and stuff happens. But what happens if, unbeknownst to the remote celebrant, the Zoom transmission gets garbled, and the pastor’s voice begins to sound like ET on Quaaludes? That happens all the time. So what then? What happens if only part of the verba are heard and the connection drops? What do we tell the viewing audience at home to do with the bread and wine? Are they, or are they not, the body and blood of Christ? It matters. It really does!

And how can the pastor be a “steward of the mysteries” while he isn’t there? The steward was an ancient office dedicated to table service. The steward could water down a diner’s wine if he were getting inebriated, or even cut him off. That’s because he is able to watch and listen and make changes based on feedback. Pastors do something similar when they officiate. They may need to consecrate more hosts, or break some in half. They may need to get stingy with the Lord’s blood at the last table, or they may need to consecrate more. A theoretical remote communion separates the pastor from his vocation of stewardship. He cannot say what is being consecrated and what is not. In my practice, I count out how many hosts I need and only consecrate those in the paten on the corporal. The rest in the ciborium remain unconsecrated. I consecrate only the wine in the chalice, not every drop in the cruet. So I know what is the Lord’s body and blood, and what is not.

If I were not in the room, how would I do this? Is the wine in the glasses on the table the only ones consecrated? What about the bottle on the table? If there is a leftover piece of toast from breakfast on the table, is that now consecrated? These are not inconsequential questions. The Eucharist is not do-it-yourself project. Jesus established an office of steward.

And how is the reliquiae taken care of afterwards? And if an accidental desecration happens, why should we put the burden on laymen, perhaps miles away, when we pastors are the stewards?

And all of the above problems grant the assumption that remote consecration is possible, that this is a valid consecration. One glaring problem is that the pastor’s voice never actually comes into contact with the elements. What comes out of a speaker is a simulation of the pastor’s voice that fools your brain into thinking that it is his voice - not unlike the RCA Victor dog. In the same way, a Zoom image or a photograph is not actually the person, but is rather a simulation of that person that gives an appearance of that person’s presence. Da Vinci’s Last Supper is only a painting. It is not really Jesus and the apostles. I argue that because of this reality, it is physically impossible to consecrate the elements remotely. And even if it were possible, it would still open up a Pandora’s Box of problems.

And this is why we don’t tear down Chesterton’s Fence. This is why we don’t do sectarian things. This is why catholicity is more than just “universality” in the sense that local manifestations of Church are to be found hither and yon.

In times past, there have been wars, plagues, tyrannical rulers, and natural disasters that have impeded the ability of pastors to preach and administer Sacraments. We do what we can with our human limitations, and we accept those limitations as part of our humanity - the same humanity that our Lord Jesus Christ took on at His incarnation. Unlike the technocratic Klaus Schwabs of the world, we don’t look to transcend those human limitations by means of turning ourselves into transhumanistic cyborgs.

The Church is indeed invisible in the sense that faith is not seen by the naked eye. But the Church is also visible, as she gathers around a visible preacher even as faith comes by hearing, heard from someone preaching, one who has been sent (Romans 10). The Church is visible as the administration of the Sacraments is visible, as real, physical bread and wine and water occupy space and time, and we experience them with our bodies by means of our senses. Pastor McIntosh only spoke of the invisible Church, not the visible Church. We must consider both halves of the paradox to get the full picture.

The Church is indeed confessional, and our confessions address the question of who is charged with consecrating the elements (AC 14) and how that is to be done (AC 24, Ap 24). The Church is both local and trans-local - as evidenced by the fact that instead of a single temple, we have altars all over the world with the miraculous presence of God resting on them. And Holy Communion is not called “the Sacrament of the Altar” by our confessions for nothing. The elements are consecrated by the Word by means of one authorized to proclaim that Word - not just any person, and not by a simulacrum of a pastor’s voice. And indeed, the Church is fraternal. It is an act of fratricide to introduce a divisive, sectarian, ahistorical practice in the Church that leaves people in doubt and scandalized, not to mention leaving behind a host of other chaotic consequences in its wake.

At the conclusion of Pastor McIntosh’s “Bible Study,” President Newman pointed out that there just so happened to be resolutions pertaining to internet communion yet to be voted on by the body, and that the CTCR and seminary faculties have already weighed in. And to my knowledge, none of them agree with Pastor McIntosh and President Newman that this practice should be done in our churches.

Hopefully, this whole uproar about internet communion will be nothing more than an eyebrow-raising little episode in LCMS history that future generations will find quaint when they read about the synod’s 21st century history. And in the short term, I hope that our synod will find some way, even with our convoluted polity, to enforce biblical, confessional, and catholic doctrine and practice, and facilitate the restoration of a genuine Eucharistic piety and of yearning for its frequent reception in our churches, an ethos that would make internet communion - not to mention the practice of churches withholding the Sacrament of the Altar for three weeks out of the month - unthinkable.

TGC 126 — The Mortification of Sin

What does the Bible say about killing sin? What role does the Christian play in this? How is this done? What are some practical considerations in the killing of sin? These and other questions, will be answered in this episode, which is devoted to the teaching on killing sin in your life.

Host: Fr. Jason Braaten

Special Guest: Fr. Willie Grills

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TGC 125 — Persuasiveness and Pervasiveness of Feminism

This episode is devoted to the persuasiveness and pervasiveness of feminism in the church. My guest, Adriane Heins (my sister-in-law and former Editor of The Lutheran Witness) and I explore just how pervasive, even in the most subtle of ways, feminism has been in the church, and why it has been so persuasive to those in the church. 

Host: Fr. Jason Braaten

Special Guest: Mrs. Adriane Heins

 

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[Gottesblog] The Future is Now — Larry Beane

The Future is Now

“Based upon the logic I’ve heard from other pastors over the past 15 months, if experts & elected officials declare Climate Change a global emergency, pastors will close their churches again. After all, “gathering isn’t essential”, “we’re not climatologists”, “love your neighbour”, “it’s life or death”, “zoom church is suitable”, “the $ fines will be too high”, & “Rom 13”.
”

— THE REV. AARON ROCK

Pastor Aaron Rock, a Neo-Evangelical minister who serves Harvest Bible Church in Windsor, Ontario, Canada, who wrote the above on Facebook, seems to understand ecclesiology better than a lot of Lutherans - even lacking the belief that what happens at the altar and in the sanctuary during Holy Communion is a literal miracle in which Christ is truly present in His body and blood.

Canada is becoming quite an oppressive state. One recent example is the severe lockdown that went into effect just hours before Easter Sunday this year. On Good Friday, Canadian PM Justin Trudeau acknowledged the “long weekend” (a wonderful euphemism for the holiest day of the year to some two billion people) and that “we’re all going to have to do things differently again this year.”

Article Two of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms guarantees that “Everyone has the following fundamental freedoms: freedom of conscience and religion; freedom of thought, belief, opinion and expression, including freedom of the press and other media of communication; freedom of peaceful assembly; and freedom of association.” Well, sort of. For Article One preemptively takes away those freedoms when the State decides citizens don’t have freedom of religion, thought, belief, opinion, expression, press, assembly and association: “only to such reasonable limits prescribed by law as can be demonstrably justified in a free and democratic society.”

The First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution (the first ten amendments of which are known as the Bill of Rights) does not include such a disclaimer - such a disclaimer implying that one’s “rights” are not rights at all - which come from God - but are actually State grants of privilege. That said, we have seen our governments - federal, state, and local - act as though they did have the Canadian Loophole in them. In fact, many countries - including Communist China - also “guarantee” religious freedom, albeit with the Canadian Loophole. And this shows the real value of such lofty government “guarantees.”

The past couple years caught the Church by surprise, and we learned not only a lot about our governmental leaders, but also about our church leaders. We have learned a lot about ourselves, and what we really believe, teach, and confess regardless of what we say on paper: in Scripture and in the confessions.

Whether or not you agree with Pastor Rock regarding the danger of government overreach related to “climate change,” it is hard to be so Pollyannish as to believe that we will not have future conflicts with the State in whether or not our services are “essential,” whether our God-given rights trump positive law, whether their constitutional limitations are real or only theoretical, and whether or not the Ekklesia (Church) can long exist where there is no ekklesia (assembly). Sadly, some people will never return to assemble with the saints again, seeking instead convenient Zoom sessions that they can watch in their pajamas. We have opened the proverbial can.

But as for future government “emergencies,” we need to start talking about this now. At what point do we comply? And for how long? At what point do we resist openly? At what point do we take the Divine Service underground in defiance of the State? These are questions for individual believers, families, congregations, districts, synods, and the church catholic.

And we confessional Lutherans need to crush underfoot any and all heretical and oxymoronic suggestions such as lay-communion or remote electronic consecration, not to mention granting the State unconditional authority based on a flawed reading of Romans 13. The time to wrestle with these issues is not in the middle of a crisis when pastors, congregations, and families have a window of opportunity to do whatever they want with impunity - whether out of well-intentioned ignorance, or by carefully planned stealth. After all, as the saying goes, never let a crisis go to waste.

Thank you to Pastor Rock for calling Christians to deal with future “emergencies” by talking about them now.

TGC 124 —Trinity 12 Sermon Prep

We’re trying something new on top of our normal podcast episodes. Editors will be having discussions about the upcoming Gospel reading and themes for preaching. The editors taking part will have done some work, but they’re not finished. It’s a sounding board session to help generate ideas, themes, and applications for preaching. It’s a way to get the juices flowing just before we sit down to write. 

This episode is devoted to the Gospel reading for The Twelfth Sunday after Trinity, Mark 7:31-37.

We hope you enjoy it. Let us know what you think. 

Host: Fr. Jason Braaten

Regular Guest: Fr. David Petersen

 

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[Gottesblog] Luecke Contra Baptism — Larry Beane

Luecke Contra Baptism

I would like to thank the Rev. Dr. David S. Luecke for providing a stark contrast between his Church Growth Movement (CGM) approach to liturgy and sacraments vs. what Gottesdienst has been not only advocating, but putting into practice for going on thirty years.

His undated piece “Avoid Sacramentalism in Ministry” from his What Happened to our Churches? blog is a case in point. This article is a valuable example of why Gottesdienst exists, and why the work of pastors and the laity in the ongoing restoration of biblical theology and reverence in worship is not only needed, but is making a difference.

He begins his piece by pointing out that the local Baptist Moody radio station “dropped broadcasts of the Lutheran hour” because of The Lutheran Hour’s emphasis on “Baptism as a key to salvation.” He laments this as a “first-class communications problem,” and the fault for this “error” was “with Lutheran preachers.” He accuses Lutheran pastors of holding to an ex opere operato theology of Holy Baptism divorced from the Word and from the Holy Spirit. Luecke sums up his explanation of how salvation works, that the Holy Spirit works through the Word, and the water merely “visualizes” the Word. He never mentions Jesus or the cross in his mini-presentation of the ordo salutis in his own words.

In fact, Dr. Luecke has a strange articulation of his confession of the Holy Trinity:

All Protestants affirm the Trinity of Three Persons in One God, a concept very hard to understand. Calvinist focus on the First-Person God the Father. Lutherans emphasize the Second-Person God the Son. God the Spirit has been much neglected mostly because his role as Lord and Giver of church life was not needed when lively church life was heavily institutionalized. The rapidly growing Pentecostal movement of the last 100 years features the Third-Person Spirit. For Paul Christ and the Holy Spirit are inter-changeable. He attributes the same function in one place to Christ and another place to the Spirit. For Paul the Spirit is Christ present with us now [emphasis added].

Dr. Luecke’s assertion of Lutheran pastors severing faith from Holy Baptism is a straw man argument. He never sites any source of this apparently rampant false doctrine among Lutheran clergy, in which Baptism is treated as a magic ceremony independent of the Holy Spirit, the Word of God, and presumably, our Lord Jesus Christ who told us to “make disciples” by baptizing them in the first place.

And Dr. Luecke blames the Lutherans (Walt Kowalsky was right!) and acts as if being removed from the Moody radio station is a bad thing. In reality, The Lutheran Hour deserves kudos for not being afraid to confess our theology. Were a Baptist to read the Small Catechism’s seven questions and answers on the Chief Part of Holy Baptism, he would reject it as false doctrine. I was raised in the Baptist Church. I’m grateful for the biblical instruction that I had as a child, as well as learning who Jesus is and why the cross matters. The people of my little Baptist congregation were confessors of the Gospel. That said, Baptists and Lutherans believe entirely different things about Holy Baptism. Moody’s doctrinal statement is utterly silent about the sacraments.

Dr. Luecke admits that Baptists reject infant baptism, mirroring their snarky tone about “sprinkling water on a baby” having nothing to do with one’s “relationship with God.” Dr. Luecke also uses the curious term “water baptism” - a distinction often used among charismatics to distinguish actual baptism from a laying on of hands that accompanies “speaking in tongues” (which they call “baptism of the Spirit”).

As an aside, Dr. Luecke says that he doesn’t have the “gift of tongues,” but he recognizes modern glossolalia as valid in a response to a person who claims to “speak in tongues”:

I did not intend to belittle something that has been a defining feature for millions of enthusiastic believers. I intended just to say that I have not been given that gift. I am appealing to a much broader audience than those who have had the experience of speaking in tongues. I gave my understanding of it as an emotional expression. Many Lutheran pastors have hostility toward charismatics from the conflicts involving charismatics in congregations in the 60s and 70s. I respect charismatics for their energy. Yours is the first expression of your prayer language being very rational. God bless your gift and the Giver.

Moody is also to be commended for their faithfulness to their theology. They recognize what Luecke doesn’t want to: that neo-Evangelicals and Lutherans have incompatible theologies of baptism, and of the sacraments in general. Dr. Luecke longs for a kind of faux unity by having The Lutheran Hour either compromise our theology, or dishonestly put it under a bushel.

Dr. Luecke recognizes the inroads of the liturgical renewal that began in the middle of the twentieth century, as North American Lutherans began to dig out of the Pietist hole that their forbears, trying to fit in with a contemporary Protestant culture, fell into decades earlier - a cultural upheaval when the English language displaced the German during and after World War One. He describes his discomfort with “young pastors” and their “tendency toward sacramentalism” - which he defines as “treating the sacraments as more important than the Word.”

Again, this is a straw man. The problem is actually the opposite of Dr. Luecke’s complaint. While it is still not uncommon for a Lutheran congregation to have a Service of the Word without Holy Communion, I have never heard of a Service of the Sacrament without the Word. Can Dr. Luecke point to a single example of a Lutheran Divine Service that skips the Bible readings, omits the sermon, and heads right into the Eucharist? But we do see, again and again, especially in non-liturgical “church growth” congregations, the omission of the Sacrament rather than the omission of the Word. In some cases, non-liturgical churches boast about their “seeker sensitive” approach that pushes the Sacrament of the Altar to the fringes, perhaps only celebrating it once a month. I cannot imagine how malnourishing such a bland diet would be. It is a repudiation of our confession that Holy Communion strengthens our faith. And this is why Christians from time immemorial gathered on the Lord’s Day for the “breaking of bread” - that is until men of Dr. Luecke’s generation and inclination decided that what we needed was less Holy Communion.

As to the accusation of “treating the sacraments as more important than the Word,” Gottesdienst’s print journal is immersed in the Word of God. I’ve been the sermons editor for more than a decade. Every issue includes sermons. We insist that preaching be bound by, and centered on, the biblical text, the Word of God, as opposed to anecdotes, cutesy stories, emotional glurge, object lessons, or pop culture commentary. We also have regular columns devoted to the exegesis of Scripture. I have been to many Divine Services and other prayer offices at Gottesdienst events. The Word is always powerfully preached and proclaimed. I have never seen Dr. Luecke in attendance at any of them.

This is a common straw man among our critics, that we - as I heard recently - pay more attention to “the proper form of a stole to proclaiming the pure Gospel” - and that this explains the decline of Christianity in our country, in the west, and around the world. This mirrors Dr. Luecke’s Theology of Glory, in which he asserts that the number of the butts in the pews is in direct proportion to the faithfulness of the preacher and the correctness of the church’s method of worship.

The fact of the matter is that the editors and bloggers of Gottesdienst are parish pastors, some having been for decades - not primarily professors, experts in industrial organization, bureaucrats, theorists, academicians, or consultants about how to grow a church. And in the course of years of actual parish ministry, one sees the power of the Word of God, through preaching, through Baptism and the Lord’s Supper, through Confession and Absolution, through praying the Psalms, through the liturgy, on deathbeds, in times of personal and family angst, in tragedy, in bringing Christ to bear in the midst of the Culture of Death and a world that is repulsed by the cross. Actual parish pastors baptize the babies - sometimes with an eye dropper. They also bury the babies and console the grieving parents who are comforted by our emphasis on baptism. They also baptize adults, and in some cases, the elderly. They teach the Word in Bible classes, in youth catechesis, and in sermons - week in and week out. They bring both Word and Sacrament to shut-ins and to the hospitalized. They proclaim the Word of God as their parishioners breathe out their final breath on this side of the grave.

And in fact, we are so focused on the Word of God, we use the traditional liturgy!

Your Lutheran Service Book (LSB) has the biblical references embedded in the liturgy on every page. The Church has used the liturgy for well over 1,500 years precisely because the liturgy is grounded in the living Word of God. In fact, the deviants from the liturgy are those who move away from the Word into the realm of either reason (as many of the Reformed do), emotion (as many neo-Evangelicals do), phony signs and wonders (as many Pentecostals and Charismatics do), or magisterial mysticism (as many Roman Catholics do).

Dr. Luecke suffers from the Grass Is Always Greener syndrome - as do many cradle Lutherans who take their treasure for granted. As a convert, I see the futility of lusting after popularity by adopting worship alien to our confessions. I have been there, and done that - with all of its strengths and weaknesses. The reality is that we have the best of both worlds in our Lutheran confession: a rigorous cruciform theology informed not by direct revelation, the magisterium, or by a complex matrix of popes and councils, not by logic and reason, not by ginned up emotion and navel-gazing, but by the Word of God, sola scriptura. And we retain the biblical practice of baptismal regeneration and of the Lord’s own words concerning His Supper (as the great I AM proclaims the great THIS IS), as well as retaining the biblical practice of Holy Absolution according to our Lord’s institution. Dr. Luecke presents a false either/or dichotomy that offers us only option A) The Word or option B) the sacraments, without an option C) all of the above. And in fact, the real, fully-lived Christian life is not a multiple choice quiz, but rather an essay, a narrative, that is, the Gospel of Jesus Christ: His incarnation, birth, ministry, passion, death, resurrection, ascension, and the consummation of His coming again in glory.

I would agree with Dr. Luecke if his critique were a caution against the danger falling into ex opere operato (seeing baptism and all other liturgical acts as a work severed from faith). For this warning is strewn about the Book of Concord. It is one of the chief criticisms of Rome. And where I see it is in the good intention of grandparents whose faithless children will not baptize or raise their own children in the faith. And so pious grandparents, lovingly desperate for the salvation of their grandchildren, will sometimes inquire about bringing their grandchildren to church to baptize them independent of the parents’ wishes or intention to raise them as Christians. Sometimes grandparents will ask about doing a sort-of secret emergency baptism themselves (a situation so common that an episode of All in the Family depicted Archie Bunker doing this very thing). Their motivation is love. But we have to gently remind them that baptism is not a silver bullet, that faith matters, that like a seed that is watered, the ongoing life of the seedling requires ongoing care lest it die. Those with any time in the pastoral office has had to encounter this real-world situation.

But Dr. Luecke is instead condemning those who worship by means of the liturgy, in “traditional churches,” and especially in “highly liturgical churches” and their pastors who emphasize Holy Baptism in the life of the Christian.

Dr. Luecke refers back to Dr. Luther’s famous dictum that when he was tormented by the devil, he would made the good confession: “I am baptized.” Dr. Luecke cautions, “This can be taken to mean he relied on the act of water baptism for his identity as a believer.” This shows that Dr. Luecke doesn’t understand the Lutheran confession of Holy Baptism. Baptism is our identity as a believer. It is how disciples are made. It is the objective declaration of God of His objective work of regeneration. Otherwise, Dr. Luther would not refer back to it, but would rather exclaim, “I have faith.” The problem is that faith is subjective. It is impossible to quantify. Holy Baptism is objective. It is binary: you either are, or you are not. And Holy Baptism delivers faith. Nowhere in the Scriptures are we taught to sever the two, nor are we to treat baptism as a mere human act publicly acknowledging our faith (as is the Baptist confession). Rather, we confess baptism as “the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit.” To be baptized is to be born again. And in our first birth, we draw our first breath in the world. In our second birth, we draw our first breath in eternity. How can a Lutheran remove baptism from his identity? Baptism and faith are intertwined, but it is baptism that is the objective, extra nos reality to which a person whose faith may be tried and frayed can point. And that reality delivers faith as a gift. The remembrance of baptism strengthens our faith. Faith is not substitute for baptism. This is a theology alien to our Lutheran confession.

I remember listening to the radio on a long drive across the entire state of Pennsylvania and the only thing I could pick up was a religious station. A Baptist pastor was preaching a thunderous fire-and-brimstone sermon, but at one point in his preaching, he broke down in tears. He could not determine if his faith were sufficient. He was broken and demoralized, and had no objective means of faith, nothing outside of himself and his own sinful works to which to anchor himself. This is the crabgrass that Dr. Luecke is peering at over the fence, convincing himself that it is greener. And it is, like the “sign” of “speaking in tongues,” a navel-gazing subjective self-validation of one’s salvation as opposed to the objective, divinely-focused nature of Holy Baptism as a reality of the New Birth in a Christian’s life.

Dr. Luecke criticizes the mid twentieth century rediscovery of the liturgy as a blessing to the faith and life of the individual Christian and of the Church, as a “wrong turn.” He creates another straw man that emphasizing “renewing the forms and rituals of public worship” is antithetical to “the Word of God itself” and to “relationships.”

This is not only factually untrue, it is a weird display of mental gymnastics.

For ritual doesn’t take away from relationships. In fact, all forms of relationships involve ritual. For example, I don’t know if Dr. Lueke is married or not, but if so, I would be willing to wager that this entrance into a sacred relationship with his wife was accompanied by ritual, and it was probably quite traditional. She probably wore a wedding dress as opposed to a pair of blue jeans. Likewise, he was probably wearing, if not a tuxedo, some form of suit and tie (a form of male vesture dating back to the Pagan French Revolution). The wedding service was likely liturgical, as opposed to being ex corde. Interestingly, in my experience, weddings are an example in which Baptists actually follow a more liturgical form than the usual loosely-liturgical Sunday service. Words are read out of the book, and the couple and the pastor engage in a formal rote recitation.

And likewise, married- and family-life involves a lot of rituals. I don’t know if Dr. Luecke has children or not, but if so, I would bet that every year on the natal anniversary of his wife and children, the family would gather for a liturgy of sorts, a ritual involving a special meal, candles, and the singing of a particular traditional song. And far from standing in opposition to the idea of relationship, such rituals are like glue that bonds relationships. I wonder what Dr. Lueke thinks of the traditional ritual of celebrating one’s baptismal birthday with the lighting of a candle and saying certain prayers. And of course, there are many social liturgies, like the Pledge of Allegiance and the National Anthem, fireworks on the fourth, handshakes, retirement dinners, clinking glasses together in a toast, the seventh-inning stretch, the starting pistol at the beginning of the race, clapping at the conclusion of a recital, eating popcorn at the movie theater, etc. All of these rituals foster relationships. They do not impede them.

In the Church, we often refer to the Lord’s Supper as “Holy Communion.” It is a “communion,” a ritual act of relationship between believers and God as well as believers to each other. How liturgy is seen in opposition to such relationships beggars belief. Nearly every act of human relationship involves rituals, formal and informal. Social iconoclasm leads only to the breakdown of civilization and the destruction of the faith - not to mention a destruction of relationships through deracination and atomization, creating a vacuum to be filled with a selfish desire for personal entertainment and the treating of “butts in the pews” as an impersonal, ego-driven barometer of faith and faithfulness.

Dr. Luecke displays a shocking ignorance of history and of the Bible itself by arguing that “the roots” of our liturgical rituals:

go back to the fourth century when the now-official Christian church began adopting special rituals, robes, and parades with incense of pagan worship. Pagan worship was meant to impress the gods, so they would look favorably on human efforts. Quality was important for that purpose. Emphasizing those rituals led to the sacramentalism that forms were more important than the Word of God itself.

And herein lies the heart of the matter of Dr. Luecke’s iconoclastic rebellion against the liturgy and the sacraments - and to be blunt, his rebellion against the Word of God itself. While some of our specific clerical vestments have their roots in the Greco-Roman world of our Lord, the apostles, and the Pagan (and later Christian) Roman Empire, the idea of liturgical vestments when ministering in the presence of God is an Old Testament idea. That which Dr. Luecke dismissively calls “robes” and other liturgical accoutrements are, per his argument, of Pagan origin to “impress the gods.” If Dr. Luecke were to read Exodus and Leviticus, he would learn what God’s preferences are.

When He appeared to Moses in the burning bush, God instructed Moses to remove his sandals, as this was a place of holiness - set apart from the ordinary because of the miraculous presence of God. He did not tell Moses “come as you are” or champion casualness as a virtue in the presence of God.

And our Lutheran confession of the Lord’s Supper is that it is a miracle, that Jesus is truly present in an incarnate, physical form occupying space and time. It is His same body born of the Virgin Mary, the same blood shed on the cross. It is not a symbol. It is not a “spiritual presence.” It is a miraculous manifestation of God in our midst: God in our sanctuary, God on our altar, God given to us to eat and drink and take into ourselves bodily, according to His Word and institution. This is why our churches are called “sanctuaries” - holy places - no less holy than the Holy of Holies in the tabernacle and temple. Why we would treat this most sublime gift and reality with anything less than complete awe and wonder and reverence can only be described by one word: disbelief.

When the time came for the Lord to dwell among His people by means of His miraculous presence, the Lord Himself instructed that a beautiful tabernacle be constructed, with specific instructions for top quality items of beauty to be used in a liturgical setting. The priests were to be vested as they carried out their ministry, with fine linen, gems, and colorful cloth of superlative workmanship. God’s house was to be adorned in the finest of silver and gold and other metals, with beautiful fabrics and artwork. And there are also liturgical instructions regarding ordinations, daily and weekly worship, and an annual calendric cycle. And it is impossible to read the Lord’s worship preferences and not come away convinced that God prefers liturgy, ritual, beauty, reverence, and yes, “quality” when it comes to His presence on earth. There are no examples in Scripture of the miraculous presence of God being accompanied by come-as-you-are casualness and an entertainment emphasis.

And there was also incense. Incense is a powerful image, the use of which is mandated in Old Testament worship, is referred to in Psalm 141 as symbolic of prayer, was presented to our Lord by the Magi, was part of our Lord’s ritual of His burial, and is also mentioned numerous times in the Book of Revelation. Incense is not of Pagan origin, but Pagans copied it from the worship of the true God. The words “incense” and “frankincense” appear 110 times in the ESV translation, including both God’s delight in it, as well as his condemnation of it being offered to false gods, or even to Himself by those who were not called to lead worship.

Dr. Luecke’s brand of de-emphasis of baptism, his anticlericalism and his innovationism is the real problem in the Church. It must be stamped out by constant and consistent catechesis (including by the teaching that happens by means of ceremonies), by a renewed biblical literacy, by a rediscovery of our Book of Concord and our Church History, by liturgical preaching, by embracing not American sectarianism but our Evangelical Catholic confession of the traditional, unchanging, apostolic faith, and by rejecting the idea that popularity is what determines righteousness. This latter one is the rotten fruits of the Church Growth Movement’s libido numerandi and lusting after the ego-stroke of big churches and big budgets. Can you imagine if we raised our children to cultivate a desire to be popular? Would we advise our sons to do drugs? Would we advise our daughters to be promiscuous? Why do CGM advocates embrace worldly popularity as a gage of “church success.” Have they not read our Lord’s words?

Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.

These two verses are a repudiation of Dr. Luecke’s entire career as a CGM advocate. I would posit that if he has baptized one baby in the course of his ministry, he has done more good for the growth of the kingdom than his entire corpus of books and articles. And when our Lord returns to this decimated, fallen world finding only a remnant of believers, He will not scold us for not being worldly enough, with our churches being too small, with not enough butts in the pews - but will commend His Bride for her faithfulness to His Word, promise, and command:

Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.

TGC 123 — [Special] The Brotherhood of the Ministry

This is a special edition of the podcast. It is a recording of the second keynote presentation from The Bugenhagen Conference in Racine, Wisconsin given Tuesday, July 27. The title was The Brotherhood of the Ministry. 

 

Host: Fr. Ben Ball

 

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TGC 122 — [Special] Consider the Ant: Overcoming Sloth with Zeal

This is a special edition of the podcast. It is a recording of the final keynote presentation from The Bugenhagen Conference in Racine, Wisconsin given Wednesday, July 28. The title was Consider the Ant: Overcoming Sloth with Zeal. 

 

Host: Fr. Jason Braaten

 

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[Gottesblog] On Gran Torino — Larry Beane

On Gran Torino

I used to enjoy movies, that is, before they all became preachy and “woke,” eager to push a Critical Theory Neo-Marxist narrative, and turning Christians and other demographic groups, into villains.

In 2008, as the Hollywood Revolution was moving into overdrive, and as filmmaking was quickly descending into the septic tank, actor/director Clint Eastwood produced a gem of cultural iconoclasm: a movie truly worth watching, called Gran Torino.

Eastwood plays the main character, Walt Kowalski, a crotchety Korean War veteran who lives in a changing suburban neighborhood in Detroit. His once-white neighborhood is being repopulated by Hmongs, who are people of a stateless Southeast Asian nationality who live in Cambodia and Vietnam, and who allied themselves with South Vietnam and the Americans during the Vietnam War. Many Hmongs were resettled as refugees in the United States following the communist takeover of Vietnam after the US withdrawal. In fact, at my baptism in 1982, I was given the washing of regeneration and renewal with seven other adults: all Hmong.

There is an interesting conversation in the film between Kowalski and his neighbor Sue (the young adult Hmong woman whom he rescues from a dangerous situation). She explains to him about the Hmong, and said that “the Lutherans” resettled them in the United States. The Roman Catholic character Kowalski retorts with the memorable line: “Everybody blames the Lutherans.”

Without resorting to spoilers, the theme of the movie is sin and redemption - with clear and unmistakable Christological symbolism. The persistent Roman Catholic pastor is actually a heroic figure in the movie, unlike the usual Hollywood paradigm of presenting Christians and clergy as predators or criminals. Father Janovich, who recently buried Kowalski’s wife, nags Kowalski to unburden himself in confession, knowing that his soul is scarred by incidents that happened in the war. There is imagery of the baptismal font that Eastwood places into the picture at crucial moments. There is also the symbolism of the cross and of blood - though the movie is not gratuitously violent or gory (though it does have a good bit of profanity, just so you're aware).

The title comes from the name of the car that Kowalski not only owns, but had assembled in his days as a Detroit Ford auto worker. It symbolizes a kind of freedom and innocence of an era that has passed. The car becomes the object of an attempted crime, later, a symbol of friendship, trust, forgiveness, and love - and once more as the physical manifestation of redemption, of returning to the state of freedom and innocence.

The movie deals with racism, but not in the usual stilted, politically-correct, scoldy, cartoonish way that has become the norm, but rather in a refreshingly human and sympathetic way that allows for forgiveness and growth - one at odds with the current Social Justice Warrior approach of cancel culture, of the perpetually-offended, and the destruction of people’s lives.

Kowalski’s character is complex and authentic: a man who is brutally honest, bearing the scars of warfare, bigoted, but one whose bigotry is overcome by human contact and his own sense of honor. He finds common ground with his Hmong neighbors over and against the hypocrisy of his own kith and kin. The movie is also filled with ethnic humor, which shows the clear distinction between the playful and even affectionate acknowledgement of ethnic and cultural realities between friends vs actual racism. This honest portrayal of normal collegial banter has been panned by contemporary viewers who are scandalized by the words used in the film. Of course, they cry that the film is “racist” - when in fact, it is the diametric opposite. This misrepresentation is because our immediate culture is afraid of normal, human interaction and is on a hair-trigger looking for forbidden thoughts at every turn, even vilifying, if not criminalizing, normal interpersonal interaction. Of course, in the real world of sanity and normalcy, friends, colleagues, and co-workers recognize our differences, and we acknowledge them with humor across the board, equally, instead of the current politically-correct paradigm of banning all such humor and replacing it with genuine, targeted, and debilitating hatred against certain “acceptable” demographic targets for genuine racism and abuse.

Gran Torino cuts through all of that, and presents a normal, complex, lovable man underneath a gruff exterior while making use of clear imagery of the atonement and the sacraments to show God’s transformative mercy at work.

The movie is funny, touching, gritty, honest, and uplifting, but not in the usual contrived Hollywood way. The end of the film comes around to the beginning, as most great storytelling does. It is a master class for Social Justice Warriors to learn the difference between actual racism and healthy human banter and affectionate humor that naturally emerges where people are free. It is also a confession of the atonement, of redemption, of the forgiveness of sins, of love, and the peace that surpasses all understanding.

If you have not seen the film, I highly recommend it. And never forget the dictum: “Everybody blames the Lutherans.”