A 32-year old ode...

I was going through some papers and pictures from my former life (1st vocation; I'm now on my 3rd) and I came across a poem I wrote out at sea 32 years ago (June 12, 1985, to be exact). Never said I was a poet (okay, maybe a closet one, but I'm not ready to "out" myself just yet...).

For what it's worth, I bring you

The Troubled Sailor

The night is now over
And daylight has come
And I am one day closer to death
I just close my eyes
Because I cannot decide
If living or dying is best

Dwarfed by a universe
I don't understand
I am all that is left of my hope
Nothing but water
And sky every day
My will to survive tries to cope

The warmth from above
From sun or from God
Keeps me afloat in this sea
But twilight has come
And a star stares at me
It isn't quite sure what it sees

All Rights Reserved.

Getting across the moat...

“Tell the truth, or someone will tell it for you.” [this quote is universal, but recently credited to chick-lit author Stephanie Klein in the current issue of Reader's Digest]

And He got up and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Hush, be still.” And the wind died down and it became perfectly calm. --Mark 4:39 (NASB)

The purported Klein quote provides the backdrop for this post (yes, I know, it's been long overdue-- more than a month!) (tsk tsk). And this post is a quasi-follow-on to my last post 38 days ago, Once I walked to North Dakota...

Somewhere along the way, a person begins to build a moat around the castle and over time fills it with preconceived notions, such as those about vocations. To illustrate, a quick quiz: What comes to mind when you think of... A police officer? A car salesman? A kindergarten teacher? An NFL player? A politician? A Republican? A Native American? President Trump? A service member deployed in the Middle East? A Muslim woman in a hijab? A Roman Catholic priest? A pastor?

It's that last one that I want to zero in on. In church or out, church member or not, everybody seems to have their own definition of pastor, regardless of church or denominational affiliation. Since leaving the seminary, I have encountered at least a dozen different attitudes and vibes from as many folks. One encounter yesterday surprised me. My wife was preparing a devotional for her coworkers that included Mark 4:39 (above). She asked me matter-of-factly if the Greek word "quiet" in the ESV translation of Jesus' words spoken to calm the sea actually meant "hush." She was assuming that my level of Greek acuity (okay, that's definitely the wrong word, but it colors this anecdote nicely) included a fastest-gun-in-the-West recall of a given New Testament verse in the original Koine Greek, followed by a quick mental juxtaposition of more common English translations from various Bible versions... Flattered as I was for a split second, I responded "I don't know." "What do you mean you don't know?! You took Greek in seminary, didn't you?"

Just to set the record straight, I know enough biblical Greek to work competently with it... I can barely recall Bible verses in English, much less in their original language(s-- Hebrew is nearly a lost cause).

Anyway. As I was helping my wife with her question, it occurred to me that there are probably more-- a lot more-- like her who ascribe certain expectations (I was going to say gifts or, maybe, superpowers, but thought better of it) to a pastor. I think she was just as surprised at my initial response to her inquiry as I was at the question itself...

Well, of course I went right to BDAG (if you have had no dealings with New Testament Greek, then "BDAG" will mean nothing to you and that's okay). So Jesus' words from this verse in the original Greek are Σιώπα, πεφίμωσο. And this is typically translated as “Quiet! Be still!”

The first imperative means, in the simplest sense, to be quiet/silent; however, I learned something new as I was looking into BDAG-- there was a reference to The Epistle of Barnabas (an anonymous 4th century, extra-canonical theological writing that attempts to reconcile the New Testament with Judaism), verse 10:3, in which the same Greek word is used for "silent":

He mentioned the swine for this reason: you shall not consort, he means, with men who are like swine, that is to say, when they have plenty they forget the Lord, but when they are in want they recognize the Lord, just as the swine when it eats does not know its master, but when it is hungry it cries out, and after receiving food is again silent.

I didn't see "to hush" as a translation, but there are often nuances in translating, so...

The 2nd word is literally "to muzzle." But it is used in a few places in the Bible in the meaning of "to be silenced." More nuancing here, as Jesus likely wouldn't have meant "Be muzzled!" in His command to the raging storm and tossing sea...or maybe that's exactly what He meant...

Really, one could write an entire sermon on this verse and why it is translated this way or that way.

But back to preconceived notions. Everybody has a moat. Even my wife (she keeps hitting me with the drawbridge...). Some are harder to get across than others.

El SEÑOR te bendiga y te guarde.

Once I walked to North Dakota...

There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God says, in the end, “Thy will be done.” --C. S. Lewis, from The Great Divorce

Perhaps I should claim false advertising with regard to this post's title, or at least admit to leaving off the punchline. The title provides a nice launch point into the everyday phenomenon of how differently each one of us processes what we hear and see in the world around us-- even those of us with the same "label"...

Yesterday I went out for a lengthy, solo death march (if you're just now peering into this blog for the first time, then the aforementioned phrase is a case in point) during which I crossed three rivers, the St. Mary, the Maumee, and the St. Joseph. If I leave that factoid as it is, you will interpret it based on a) personal experiences (bias), b) a knowledge of rivers in northern Indiana, c) what you know about me, or d) none of the above, and so can't help but be impressed by such a bold statement.  :)

The fact is, I walked just under 9.5 miles and near the confluence of those three rivers in Ft. Wayne, there are walking paths that cross bridges over each of the rivers (in very close proximity to one another). So with added information, my feat, perhaps, loses any luster.

One's worldview can skew the truth. So what comes to mind about me when you read the following statements, whether they are true or not (and are intentionally mentioned together): Texas is my home. I do not vote Democrat. I go to a Lutheran church. I have a second language. My daughter was born in Spain. The highest game I ever bowled is a 279. I once crossed the Red River and walked to North Dakota...

And if you interacted with me in real life, what would my actions say about me to you? And if you knew of me by a "label" (i.e. Lutheran), how would my treatment of others speak of an entire group? Would I be considered stereotypical? Or would my actions challenge your preconceived notions about me and my affiliations with others?

Much of the trouble in this world has to do misunderstanding, in particular about those verboten party topics: sex, politics, and religion. Ethnic and cultural differences may lead to household-strength intolerance, but industrial-strength hatred and bigotry is the result of the deadly combination of ignorance and fear. Therefore, a snap decision and rushed judgment can lead to an unfortunate, misinformed conclusion.

Now think for a minute. What conclusion can be drawn from what you say, how you interact with others, who you hang with? The answer is simple (enough)... With every step you take, every move you make (..."every breath you take, I'll be watching you"...The Police), you reveal the location and condition of your heart at any given moment in time.

What's the point? Well. Not all Muslims are terrorists. There is no such thing as progressive Christianity. Recalcitrant sinners come in all shapes, sizes, and orientation (including heterosexuals-- take a look around). Lutherans are as Roman Catholic as Presbyterians. Not everyone thinks like you (or I) do. Not everyone who doubts is weak...

Listen. Consider (the facts at hand). Respond in kindness, not in judgment. Get the rest of the story before drawing a conclusion.

And I really did walk to North Dakota, in 2007. And I crossed the Red River which separates North Dakota and Minnesota (I walked from the western border of Moorhead, Minnesota, into Fargo, North Dakota, across the bridge over the Red River...not the same Red River that separates Texas from Oklahoma). Once again, added information doesn't change the facts, just the color...

But it IS a good story (and a good ice-breaker at social functions)!

That's it for now... С Богом, ya'll.

This sets a dangerous precedent?!

“Recycled scrap tire material is not amenable in any way to religious purposes. It is wholly secular. There is no way for Trinity Lutheran to convert rubber protecting children from injury into the advancement of religious doctrines,” attorneys for the church wrote. --from post to the74million.org

The following is the headline of an article posted to the liberal e-zine Slate about a Supreme Court decision last month in favor of the an LCMS congregation in Missouri:

Goodbye, Establishment Clause: The Supreme Court’s ruling in Trinity Lutheran v. Comer threatens to obliterate the divide between church and state

[the actual decision syllabus is here]

Another unnecessary skirmish on the ever-blurring line of demarcation between Church and State.

[and IMHO the Court made the correct decision] [what do you think?]

С Богом, ya'll.

Why are there so many different Lutherans in America?

Teach and urge these things. If anyone teaches a different doctrine and does not agree with the sound words of our Lord Jesus Christ and the teaching that accords with godliness, he is puffed up with conceit and understands nothing. He has an unhealthy craving for controversy and for quarrels about words, which produce envy, dissension, slander, evil suspicions, and constant friction among people who are depraved in mind and deprived of the truth, imagining that godliness is a means of gain. (1 Timothy 6:3-5 ESV)

[The following "newsletter article" was assigned during a course on American Lutheran history.]

Have you ever wondered about the label “Lutheran” (and why/how, if you are reading this in a Lutheran church newsletter, it most likely applies to you)? Have you ever wondered about why of our own church body, The Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod, is so named? Have you ever wondered—or perhaps you were never told—why there are nearly three dozen strands (for lack of a better word) of practicing Lutherans nationwide (that’s more than 8 million Americans), rather than just one post-Reformation, American brand of Lutheranism.

Surely, even the least frequent church-going Lutheran knows where the designation comes from—Dr. Martin Luther hated that any new form of church should carry his brand, so to speak; Luther meant, at least at the onset 500 years ago, to merely make his beloved Roman Catholic Church aware that its improprieties, excesses, and false doctrine obscured the Gospel message and, therefore, its primary mission. (I think the last thing he meant to do was foment a Protestant insurrection that would result in suffering, death, and the fracturing of believers into squabbling sects of differing Christian doctrine.)

It was this Protestant Reformation that tempered those followers of Luther into the first Lutherans, those who agreed with Luther’s teaching, doctrine, and practice, the basis for our Lutheran Confessions, the 1580 Book of Concord. This compendium of 10 confessional documents is the backbone of orthodox Lutheranism and is still upheld by The Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod as “the true and binding exposition of Holy Scripture and serve as authoritative texts for all pastors [and] congregations”; however, and unfortunately, not all Lutheran church bodies in America share such an unconditional subscription. And, ironically, the very book that was meant to keep Lutherans together (concordia is Latin for “one heart”), is at the very “heart” of what would divide the first Lutherans to call themselves American in the early- to mid-19^th century.

Between 1840 and 1875 there were approximately 60 organized Lutheran church bodies in the United States made up of European immigrants (and their descendants) primarily from Germany, Norway, and Sweden. A fledgling Lutheran presence in the 17^th century of Dutch (New York), Swedish (Delaware), and German (Pennsylvania) settlers would eventually give rise in the next century to the first permanent Lutheran “synod” in America, the ethnically German Ministerium of Pennsylvania in 1748. The Latin word ministerium (a group of ministers), would soon give way to a more regular use of the anglicized form of the Greek word synodos, from syn- (together) + hodos (way), meaning assembly or meeting. (Thus The Luther Church – Missouri Synod.)

Author and professor of church history, Mark Granquist, writes in his 2015 book Lutherans in America, that “by 1720, Lutherans had been in North America for about a century…especially in the middle [British] colonies.” In 1740 there was still no English language Lutheran worship—there were Lutherans scattered about. Lutheranism in America was still wholly unorganized. The formation of the Pennsylvania ministerium was founded on Pietism, a German form of Lutheranism that placed the burden of salvation on Man over God’s grace, and condemned formal Christianity that accepted church attendance and reception of the sacrament as an indication of real discipleship and denounced a simple assent to doctrine or a verbal affirmation of confessions or creeds as evidence of true faith. And so the “founding fathers” of the first synod in Pennsylvania tried to blend Pietism and orthodox Lutheran Confessions into a prototypical and distinctly model of American Lutheranism. Over the next 100 years, this model would be shaped and reshaped by the culture of the times, as Lutherans in America would be impacted by other Protestant church movements, particularly Baptist and Methodist, as well as the revivalism that grew out of mission work on the western frontier.

By 1830, English was the preferred language of worship among American Lutheran synods, which were continuing to grow exponentially. In the mid-1800s, Pietism was the undercurrent for much of the anti-Roman Catholic sentiment and a fundamental reason that some of the contents of the Confessions were seen as no longer relevant, especially the original or “unaltered” Augsburg Confession (drafted to address specific abuses in the Roman Catholic Church). It was into this backdrop of controversy and competition that The Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod came on the scene in 1847. Our synod—confessional, ethnically Saxon, German-speaking, and fiercely conservative—began to grow in the Midwest, amid arguments with other synods over unconditional acceptance of the Confessions. There were other controversies, too, such as differing opinions on the doctrines of Election and Real Presence (both topics better addressed separately in future newsletter articles).

Granquist reports that Lutherans in America grew to be the third-largest Protestant church group from 600,000 baptized in 1875 to more than 2 million by 1900, segregated mostly by ethnicity, rather than doctrine. But that would change as not only doctrine, but semantics would create a chasm between the two largest Lutheran church bodies in the U.S. in the 1920s, the more liberal United Lutheran Church of America (ULCA), with its roots in the Pennsylvania Ministerium of 1748 (and created through a series of mergers; through more mergers, it would eventually become a shadow of today’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in America or ELCA), and the Missouri Synod.

While there had been great hope and enthusiasm for a united Lutheran front in America, at least on the part of the ULCA, the controversy over doctrinal subscription would keep the notion of one united American Lutheran Church body beyond arm’s reach. Granquist notes that “most of the midwestern Lutheran groups were generally sympathetic to the use of the terms inerrant and infallible, both because they believed it correctly expressed the nature of biblical authority and because it brought them into harmony with the Missouri Synod on the issue.” The ULCA and others resisted using these terms, and another Lutheran body at the time, the American Lutheran Church, used one, but not the other. The ULCA tried again in 1949 for national unity among the numerous Lutheran bodies, but to no avail.

We in The Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod consider ourselves orthodox Lutherans, as we accept the Scriptures as the inspired and inerrant Word of God, and we subscribe unconditionally to all the symbolical books of the Evangelical Lutheran Church as a true and unadulterated statement and exposition of the Word of God. There are other Lutherans in America who claim the same stance (such as the Wisconsin Synod, the 3^rd largest Lutheran body), but other issues, such as type of hymnal, gender identity, roles of men and women in church, and form of church government, keep us apart.

Honestly, it’s very difficult to translate the label “Lutheran” into a specific description. Of the 30 or so bodies in America, it’s also very difficult to decipher why one operates to the exclusion of others; in The Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod, altar and pulpit fellowship (who is invited to the Lord’s Supper, who is allowed to preach) is based predominately upon “confessional unity.” Is the communicant confessionally sound? Does he or she agree with the Lutheran Confessions as contained in the Book of Concord? Or even know what the Book of Concord is? Does he or she agree with the teachings of our Synod? Can any ordained Lutheran pastor preach from our pulpit?

As a vivid example of the fence between the Missouri Synod and the largest American Lutheran body, the ELCA, comes directly from its website in these statements which they contend justifies their altar fellowship with the Presbyterian Church (USA), Reformed Church in America, United Church of Christ, The Episcopal Church, The Moravian Church, and United Methodist Church:

“Full communion is when two denominations develop a relationship based on a common confessing of the Christian faith and a mutual recognition of Baptism and sharing of the Lord’s Supper. This does not mean the two denominations merge; rather, in reaching agreements, denominations also respect differences.”

I know, all of this perhaps presents our Synod as proprietary among other Lutherans, even among other Christian denominations; however, when the very confessional documents that were presented during the Reformation by Luther and his colleagues and followers to defend God’s Word are altered, ignored, or simply forgotten because popular culture and society deem them legalistic or no longer relevant…well, there can never be unity as long as the world, not God, influence the direction of the Church. It is sad, even regrettable, that the label Lutheran doesn’t hold the same definition for each Christian who wears it.

In the end, our Lutheran label is not as important as our defense of the truth in the face of false doctrine and misleading practice. Our confessions as an exposition of Scripture neither add to or take away from God’s word. If this were the case among all the “Lutherans” in the world, then…well, you get the idea.

С Богом, ya'll.

Baptism, Children, and Heaven...

Before there was Jeff Foxworthy there was Jerry Clower, a Mississippi Baptist lay preacher and story-telling comedian. He used to talk about the time one of his cousins was engaged to a nice Methodist girl from the neighborhood. There was only one thing wrong with this young woman—she had received infant baptism. For the groom’s staunchly Baptist family this simply would not do, she must be properly baptized—as an adult believer by immersion in the river. The young lady politely refused.

Brother Jerry was called in to mediate the situation. Jerry sat down with the couple and the family patriarch. He said to Uncle Jehu, “What if I took Mary Lou out into the river just waist deep? That would be a compromise.” Uncle Jehu said, “No, that won’t do.” Jerry tried again, “What if I take her in up to her shoulders?” Jehu shook his head no. “What about up to her chin?” Again, a vigorous no. “What if I take her in so that just the top of her head is still sticking out of the water? Uncle Jehu shook his head again and said, “Nope, it has to be all the way.” Jerry leaned back in triumph and said, “That’s what Mary Lou’s been trying to tell you—it’s just that little bit on the top of the head that does the trick anyway!”
[from a post to the blog Living Lutheran]

While thumbing through the latest issue of Christianity Today, the following article caught my attention: Do Children Go to Heaven When They Die?: God's love for children is clear in Scripture, but the 'age of accountability' is harder to find. Before I even read a word of the article, I pondered the question a moment. How awful to be a parent and be vexed in such a way!

I find CT magazine interesting-- even, at times, enlightening; however, its pop-Christian culture aspect and Billy Graham Baptist theology roots leave me wondering sometimes. This is one of those times.

This is straight from the LCMS (website FAQs section)...

Why do we baptize children? Three reasons:

1. God's command to baptize (Matt. 28:18-20; Mark 16:16; Acts 2:38). There is not a single passage in Scripture which instructs us not to baptize for reasons of age, race, or gender.
On the contrary, the divine commands to baptize in Scripture are all universal in nature. On the basis of these commands, the Christian church has baptized infants from the earliest days of its history.
Since those baptized are also to be instructed in the Christian faith, (Matt. 28:20), the church baptizes infants only where there is the assurance that parents or spiritual guardians will nurture the faith of the one baptized through continued teaching of God's Word.

2. Our need for Baptism (Psalm 51:5; John 3:5-7; Acts 2:38; Rom. 3:23; Rom. 6:3-4). According to the Bible, all people–including infants–are sinful and fall short of the glory of God (Rom. 3:23).
King David confesses, “I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me" (Ps. 51:5). Like adults, infants die–sure proof that they too are under the curse of sin and death.
According to the Bible, Baptism (somewhat like Old Testament circumcision, administered to 8-day-old-babies – see Col. 2:11-12) is God's gracious way of washing away our sins – even the sins of infants – without any help or cooperation on our part. It is a wonderful gift of a loving and gracious God.

3. God's promises and power (Acts 2:38; Mark 16:16; Acts 22:16; 1 Peter 3:21; John 3:5-7; Titus 3:5-6; Gal. 3:26-27; Rom. 6:1-4; Col. 2;11-12; Eph. 5:25-26; 1 Cor. 12:13).
Those churches which deny Baptism to infants usually do so because they have a wrong understanding of Baptism. They see Baptism as something we do (e.g., a public profession of faith, etc.) rather than seeing it as something that God does for us and in us.

None of the passages listed above, nor any passage in Scripture, describes Baptism as “our work” or as “our public confession of faith.”

Instead, these passages describe Baptism as a gracious and powerful work of God through which He miraculously (though through very “ordinary” means) washes away our sins by applying to us the benefits of Christ's death and resurrection (Acts 2:38-39; Acts 22:16), gives us a new birth in which we “cooperate” just as little as we did in our first birth (John 3:5-7), clothes us in Christ's righteousness (Gal. 3:26-27), gives us the Holy Spirit (Titus 3:5-6), saves us (1 Peter 3:21), buries us and raises us up with Christ as new creatures (Rom. 6:4; Col. 2:11-12), makes us holy in God's sight (Eph. 5: 25-26) and incorporates us into the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:13).

What happens if an un-baptized child dies?

The position of our Lutheran Church on the first point in this question can best be expressed in the words of Dr. Francis Pieper:

"There is some basis for the hope that God has a method, not revealed to us, by which He works faith in the children of Christians dying without Baptism (Mark 10:13-16). For children of unbelievers we do not venture to hold out such hope. We are here entering the field of the unsearchable judgments of God" (Romans 11:33).

What is the basis of such hope? It is this, that God is not Himself bound by the means to the use of which He has bound us. That is to say that while Christ has commanded us to baptize all nations, God can save sinners without Baptism. He did so throughout the entire Old Testament. During the first 2,000 years we know of no special means of grace for little children. At the time of Abraham He instituted circumcision, but He did not thereby provide for little girls. It is for God to determine under what conditions He will receive children into His kingdom.

A most encouraging instance for the Holy Spirit's power to influence even unborn infants in a spiritual way is found in Luke 1:15, 41, 44, where it is stated that the unborn John the Baptist leaped for joy within his mother's womb when the unborn Jesus was brought into his presence by His mother Mary. Behind all this is the all-encompassing Gospel pronouncement that "God

As to the second point we might say: Whether individual Lutheran pastors have ever baptized stillborn children immediately upon their arrival, we do not know, and to our knowledge such practice has never been sanctioned by our church. Nor should it be sanctioned. The means of grace, including Baptism, are for the living only (Heb. 9:27).

So. Do children go to heaven when they die? We have every reason to believe that they do. And Christ Himself placed an emphasis on children more than once, for example:

Matthew 19:14 (ESV): But Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.”

Mark 10:14-16 (ESV): But when Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” And he took them in his arms and blessed them, laying his hands on them.

The answer to the question is that we cannot presume to know, but can only remain encouraged by God's Word, in which He reveals Himself to be a God of Grace!

'Indiscriminate vs. Discriminate' Administration of the Lord's Supper

Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a person examine himself, then, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment on himself. (1 Corinthians 11:27-30 ESV)

[Note: This post is an abridged version of a 15-page paper I wrote in April for a professor in a course on the Lord's Supper. The original title is Communion Casuistry: Who is invited to the Lord’s Supper? A better one would have been closer to the title of this post. Two real-life experiences provided me a thesis and are mentioned in the actual paper; I have removed them for reasons of privacy.]

As a future pastor, I, of course, desire to do what is right in the eyes of God, in the stead of Christ, and for the spiritual welfare of those whom I will be tasked with shepherding. What is the best Communion policy? Practice? Just who is invited to the Lord’s Supper?

I read the following statement on the LCMS website, posted to a page emblazoned with the question at hand[1]:

Denominational affiliation ought never be the sole criterion for admission to the Sacrament. When we extend an open invitation to members of congregations in church fellowship with us to commune at our altars, we are simply saying that we believe this membership means that they “know what they seek” and “why they come.” While the Missouri Synod has long recognized the necessity of communing non-LCMS Christians in special cases involving responsible pastoral care[2], our congregations generally ask that those unknown to them speak to the pastor before communing in their congregations for the first time, lest the congregation be guilty of encouraging someone to receive Christ’s body and blood to his or her judgment.

One of the most indelible images forever rooted in my heart and soul is the sight of a pastor sitting alone in a pew, refusing to approach in the Lord’s Table with brother pastors following a pastors meeting that I attended as an intern some years ago. From my point of view, it was the spiritual equivalent of dropping to a knee or turning a back to the flag during the National Anthem. I will never forget how lonely he looked, just sitting there while the rest of us received Christ’s Body and Blood. All I could think was that he was following the Apostle Paul’s exhortation to not partake of the Sacrament in an unworthy manner—did he feel he was not worthy? But he was a pastor, after all, and perhaps he had taken the time to examine himself and…well, no, he was a pastor! With brother confessors nearby… It just did not make sense to me.

In retrospect, confessional unity has to have been the issue that kept him in the pew all by himself.  But how does confessional unity fit into Paul’s exhortation about worthiness? The church in Corinth was not Roman Catholic, nor Lutheran, nor any other denomination or sect. Paul’s letter was addressed to “the church of God that is in Corinth, to those sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints together with all those who in every place call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours (v. 1 ESB),” the Christian Church.

And what, exactly, is meant by confessional unity (as we in the LCMS understand it[3]) as it pertains to a communicant’s worthiness—perhaps the two concepts are not meant to be mutually exclusive of one another. I have found that there are degrees of interpretation of both, as indicated by varied Communion practices from congregation to congregation. Unfortunately for the pastor, but most fortunately for the believer, Communion is not one-size-fits-all, allowing for the exaggerated possibility that each person could potentially become a kneeling casuistry (question of conscience) case!

In a doctrinal paper presented at a WELS conference, author and professor emeritus Armin Schuetze makes the point that “Jesus nowhere commands the church to invite everyone to this Supper. The gospel, the good news, we are to preach in all the world. And regarding baptism Jesus says, ‘Baptize all nations.’ Never, however, does he say: ‘Give my body and blood to everyone.’ It was instituted in the close fellowship of the twelve. It is not for everyone. The Lord has to tell us under what circumstances or to whom this sacrament is a blessing.”[4] And so He did, through the Apostle Paul, whose exhortation in 1 Corinthians is the law of the Communion rail, so to speak.

But Scripture is not the only yardstick used to determine whether a potential communicant may be invited to the Lord’s Table. Is the communicant confessionally sound? Does he or she agree with the Lutheran Confessions as contained in the Book of Concord? Or even know what the Book of Concord is? Does he or she agree with the teachings of the LCMS?

Gregory Lockwood addresses the issue of confessional unity in his commentary on 1 Corinthians, specifically that “the differences between the confessions of faith that define and delineate Christian church bodies may also require that Christians from heterodox communions be excluded from the Lord’s Supper.”[5] I think this alludes to individual Christians, yet all Christians must be considered confessional and the doctrinal divisions in the visible church must be acknowledged with concern to my thesis question: Who is invited to the Lord’s Supper?

LCMS Lutherans insist and confess that the “genuine faith” required for receiving the Sacrament worthily includes a proper understanding of, and faith in, what the Sacrament is; that is, an understanding of the doctrine of the real presence of Christ’s Body and Blood in and under the sacramental elements of bread and wine.[6] I agree that genuine faith is the paramount requirement, and I would hope that every communicant could articulate the doctrine of real presence, but, realistically, most communicants are led to the rail by tradition, as well as faith, and if the Sacrament is administered rightly, they will hear the words “take and eat the true Body of Christ, given for you” and “take and drink the true Blood of Christ, shed for you” with little or no understanding of any doctrine behind them. A rhetorical question now bubbles to the surface—while my human reason cannot grasp the sacramental mystery of Real Presence, I understand what the LCMS teaches about it. If I approach the rail and kneel next to a person who may know less about the Lord’s Table than I, are we participating in bona fide confessional fellowship?

A better way to approach this might be to identify those persons who place their soul in peril by drinking the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner—the unbeliever and the person unwilling to repent. The desire to amend one’s sinful life is produced by genuine faith.[7] The repentant sinner who approaches the Lord’s Table in genuine faith does so, then, in accordance with Scripture per Paul’s exhortation in 1 Corinthians 11:27-29. Lockwood reminds us that Paul did not intend that the overseers of the church in Corinth were to determine who should be invited to Communion, but that right administration of the Sacrament involves pastoral oversight.[8]

I remember serving as an Elder years ago. There was a missionary pastor who was a member of our congregation. Occasionally he would fill in for the senior pastor. During Communion, he would not proffer the host because he could never be sure who was eligible for reception. I thought I understood where he was coming from at the time; however, looking back and knowing what I know now, I would say that no pastor can be certain of every parishioner’s heart and faith, member or not. Is it wrong to believe that an unintentional error during distribution is an error on the side of grace? Certainly no well-meaning, Scripturally-sound confessional pastor would intentionally inflict judgment upon a communicant’s soul—besides, judgment comes from the Lord, not the pastor, well-intentioned or otherwise.

My wife came into this world LCMS; she was raised in the church, attended parochial school, and when we were married I had very little understanding of what it meant to be Lutheran. I was baptized in a Presbyterian church and my family seldom went to a worship service. My experience with Communion was nil until well after we were married. I can recall many a Sunday sitting in the back pew with a baby and a toddler, waiting while my wife went forward to the rail (I remember asking her if she wanted me to go with her and her answer was something to the effect of “you need to take a class first”).

After worshipping some months, I decided that, if being Lutheran meant taking Communion, then that is what I have to do. So I did. I followed my wife somewhat surreptitiously to the rail one Sunday, knelt beside her, and when the pastor got to me with the wafers the scowl on his face was totally unexpected! My wife lectured me and then spurred me on to make an appointment with the pastor who could better answer my questions about all the fuss—and, honestly, I just wanted to be a part of all that was going on at the service. I really enjoyed worship and I wanted to have the same experience that my wife and others were having during the Sacrament. Again, looking back, the question still remains: Did either of us—the pastor by giving or I by receiving—place my soul in peril? Though not yet formally instructed, I believed then what I was hearing, that I was receiving the Body and Blood of Christ, my Savior who died for me on the Cross. I believed then that my faith in Christ would mean that when I died I would go to Heaven. Was I in confessional unity with the others who were invited to receive the Lord’s Supper? Did I act unworthily by inviting myself (in a manner of speaking) to the rail? (Of course, I know now that the answers to both these questions are “no” and “no,” and I realize that I put my pastor in an awkward position, which I regret. But I add this experience to help focus the bigger question at hand.

Who is invited to the Lord’s Supper? Perhaps the answer lies in the pronoun “you,” on which Luther keys in how the communicant understands for whom Christ died[9]:

Therefore, when you consider who they are of whom he says “for you,” you will discover that it is for you and me, together with all human beings, that he died. But if we are the ones for whom he died, it must follow that we were subject to sins, death, hell, and the devil, even as the words clearly convey: “Shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” If sins are present, then certainly death is also present; if death is present, then certainly hell and the devil are present. Such consideration therefore helps you to thank him more diligently and to participate in the sacrament more readily in honor of his suffering, for what heart can comprehend with increasing adequacy what a benefit and grace it is that one is redeemed from death and the devil, from sins and all evil, and is righteous, alive, and blessed without one’s merit and help, only through the blood and dying of the Son of God? Still, he desires nothing in return other than praise and thanks, and that we acknowledge and believe it and do not despise it so shamefully or disregard it.

Who is invited to the Lord’s Supper? Maybe the answer can better be found in a different question: Who is not invited to the Lord’s Supper? Luther, quoted in the English translation of Commentary on Luther’s Catechisms by Albrecht Peters, enumerates certain conditions beyond abject unbelief and unrepentance that would preclude reception of the Lord’s Supper, chiefly “those who are cold and careless, who use Christian freedom as a cover for their disinterest with respect to God; the impudent and wild, who discount their sins and grace.”[10]

However, the Christian Church is not in the business of not inviting or turning away sinners, and ought not to do so, whether at the front door or at the altar. Yet the Communion policy from congregation to congregation is far from homogeneous (and, in some congregations, may even seem capricious). The few LCMS churches my wife and I visited about a year ago had differing Communion practices—at one we were asked about our church background, at another no one inquired about our beliefs, and still another had an open practice, during which the pastor supervised but did not distribute (one of the assistants distributing the Body was a woman).

Franz Pieper wrote, “But it is a strange thing that diversities and divisions should appear within Christendom. For the Christian Church has only one principle of cognition, namely, the Word of Christ, given by Christ to the Church through His Apostles and Prophets, only one source of the saving knowledge, therefore only one doctrine, one faith.”[11] It is as if confessional unity is in the eye of the beholder, or, perhaps, the blind eye of the beholder. In general, the LCMS policy opposing the practice of open Communion is quite clear and easy to understand: “‘Open Communion,’ the admission of individuals to the Sacrament with minimal or no concern for Baptism, repentance, faith, self-examination, or unity of confession, is intolerable for any who take seriously that our Lord gave the Supper only to his disciples (Matthew 26:20), Paul’s plea that a church be of one mind or judgment and without division (1 Corinthians 1:10), and his insistence on self-examination and discerning the Lord’s body (1 Corinthians 11:27-28).”[12] Yet a glance at a service bulletin’s Communion statement—if a congregation even publicize one—will hardly contain the word “intolerable,” but will likely offer a friendly, albeit generic, explanation of who is welcome at the rail. I offer my current congregation’s statement as an example:

We welcome communicant members and confirmed Lutheran guests (or those who have received instruction in the Lord's Supper) to examine their faith and receive Jesus' body and blood in the Lord's Supper. We Invite you to read and agree with the statement on Holy Communion[13] printed on the attendance cards. Please speak with one of the pastors or any Elder If you have questions. We invite all non-communing guests, especially children, to come to the Communion rail and cross your arms to receive a blessing.

My congregation is not unique. There is no mention of the LCMS or Baptism (or confessional unity), neither in the bulletin statement nor on the attendance card.

I think that a widely published (newsletter, website, etc.), more concise statement would help to alleviate misunderstandings. The pastor should point it out in every service. And on-going catechesis would help to cement such a policy in place. I particularly like the nuts and bolts of this LCMS example statement (verbose as it is):

The Lord’s Supper: God’s Word teaches the real presence of Christ’s body and blood invisibly in, with and under the bread and wine for the forgiveness of sins. We take seriously the spiritual care of those who commune at our altar. The Word of God states that no one offend against Christ and His Word by denying His true presence and its promise and seal of forgiveness. Because those who eat and drink our Lord’s body and blood unworthily do so to their great harm (see 1 Corinthians 11:27-29), and because Holy Communion is a confession of what is taught and believed at this altar (1 Corinthians 11:26), any who are not yet instructed, in doubt, or who hold a confession (beliefs) differing from that of this congregation (that is, belong to another church body or denomination) and yet desire to receive the sacrament, will want to first speak with the pastor before communing. As a courtesy, guests from sister congregations of the LCMS or from congregations of the American Association of Lutheran Churches (AALC) are also asked to introduce themselves to the pastor before communing.

I have accepted my first Call and want to become the best pastor I can be for the Lord and to the people I will serve. I want to serve with integrity and the trust of the Church that raised me and the parishioners who called me. I intend to teach, preach, and, especially, administer the Sacraments in conformity with the Confessions and God’s Word.

While the gospel is to be preached to "all nations,” the Lord's Supper is intended only for certain Christians. It was given to nourish and strengthen those who already know Christ as their Savior. The Lord has placed restrictions on its use. These the church is to observe lest someone receive the sacrament unworthily and bring judgment on himself. The practice of close Communion is rooted in Scripture. The pastor, called as steward of God's mysteries (1 Corinthians 4:1), administers the Lord's Supper for the congregation. The Lord bids him watch for the souls of the flock (Hebrews 13:17) and warn them against sin (Ezekiel 3:17-21), responsibilities that he must remember in his stewardship of this Sacrament.

Who is invited to the Lord’s Supper? I as the pas­tor must know who for sure, according to Scripture, but I know there will be sticky wickets to get through! But a well-crafted, doctrinally sound Communion statement will help, one that is consistent with Lutheran teaching and practice and encourages visitors to speak with the pastor before communing. Preaching and teaching about sin, repentance, and forgiveness will likely foster a healthy Communion culture within the congregation. Lockwood’s’ reminder that Paul in 1 Corinthians 11 does not forbid anyone from the Lord’s Table is important, and leads to a simple enough rule of thumb regarding Paul’s Communion policy[14]: Before you continue communing change these sinful ways; don’t commune if they still exist.

I read the following statement in a WELS textbook I used in a seminary class: “Whoever holds membership in a heretical church must first clarify his confessional position before being received at the Lord's Table. It must be clear that he cannot promiscuously receive communion in two churches with diverging confessions.”[15]

I have to agree that a communicant cannot serve two masters, in a manner of speaking. I am quite aware of the fact that the LCMS considers all other Lutherans with whom there is no altar fellowship heterodox (and many other Christian churches downright heretical) and I can certainly understand why.

In the course of researching and reading for this paper, asking a lot of questions, and listening to the lectures and comments in class, I have encountered differing opinions about (and definitions of) “open” and “close(d)” Communion practices and what awaits me in Parrish life. I do not believe that there are few gray areas in the care and feeding of the souls of one’s congregation; on the contrary—I fully expect to face a wide range of issues, attitudes, and traditions.

I happened across one pastor’s blog post[16] that would seem to confirm that, while on paper the management of communicants may seem to fall within a prescribed set of guidelines, in reality the need for vigilance is greater than ever in the world today. The following was posted by a Ft. Wayne seminary graduate with nearly 20 years in the ministry (and who, coincidentally, is the officiant in today’s chapel service):

One of the thorniest issues any LCMS pastor has to deal with is admission to the Lord’s Table. As pastor of a congregation in the inner suburbs of a major metropolitan area that sees frequent visitors for work, military service, and vacation, I’ve had all of the following kinds of experiences, sometimes on the same Sunday:

·        Someone communes and I later realize I should not have allowed it

·        Someone refrains from communing when I would have allowed it

·        Someone is discretely asked about their church membership and/or confession but takes offense even when they are admitted to the communion

·        Someone is given a blessing instead of the Sacrament but is profoundly gracious about it

There are numerous issues at work, but the most challenging is the utter disconnect between our culture’s emphasis on individual piety vs. the concern of closed communion practice with church membership/fellowship among churches.

It may be that, upon examination [a visitor] might give the right answer to any doctrinal questions we would ask in determining what makes an individual a worthy communicant (see the Small Catechism and especially the Christian Questions with their Answers). But the issue is not simply a matter of the individual’s faith, but also the public confession of their church body. That’s the point of closed communion: altar fellowship is church fellowship.

It’s unpleasant, and rare indeed is the pastor who in any way enjoys turning someone away from the Sacrament. In certain cases, people end up regularly attending my Missouri Synod congregation regularly (either every Sunday for a few months to a year, or on repeated visits to the area for work or family) where there is no local congregation with which their home church is in fellowship (e.g., they are a member of a micro-synod). What to do? The closed communion formulations came about in a simpler age, where people moved around far less, and where there were not so many denominations.

A few years ago I had occasion to speak with one of these potential communicant’s pastor (formerly ELS) about how we should handle this challenge. He said something that I haven’t been able to shake: “Church membership is an important, but not the only, consideration in admission to the Supper.” Part of me wants to embrace that. Another part of me thinks it would just enable me to take the coward’s way out.

An epilogue…

The pastor who sat by himself as the rest of the circuit pastors went to the Lord’s Table has since broken ties with the LCMS and is now serving an independent congregation (which may or may not be Lutheran) of about two dozen followers. I still do not know what happened to cause a schism in doctrine between him and his brother pastors.

Who is invited to the Lord’s Supper?  As I close, I must carefully consider my thesis question, from this point on, which has given me much to pray about.

---

[1] "Who Is Invited to the Supper of Our Lord?," LCMS News & Information, June 17, 2014, accessed April 24, 2017, https://blogs.lcms.org/2009/who-is-invited-to-the-supper-of-our-lord-2-2009.

[2] The 1967 LCMS Convention resolved that “pastors and congregations of The Lutheran Church–Missouri Synod, except in situations of emergency and in special cases of pastoral care, commune individuals of only those Lutheran synods which are now in fellowship with us” (Res. 2-19). This position was reaffirmed in 1986 when the Synod resolved “that the pastors and congregations of The Lutheran Church–Missouri Synod continue to abide by the practice of close communion, which includes the necessity of exercising responsible pastoral care in extraordinary situations and circumstances” (Res. 3-08).

[3] "Denominational Differences," LCMS Frequently Asked Questions, accessed April 23, 2017, https://stlukesmanhattan.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/Denominational-Differences-Lutherans.pdf; confessional unity is defined as “[the preservation of] the integrity of witness to the gospel of Christ as it is revealed in the Scriptures and confessed in the Lutheran confessional writings.”

[4]Armin W. Schuetze, "Joining Together In Prayer And The Lord’s Supper: The Scriptural Principles of Fellowship Applied to Prayer and Holy Communion," WLS Essays, accessed April 23, 2017, http://www.wlsessays.net/bitstream/handle/123456789/3064/SchuetzeJoining.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y.

[5] Gregory J. Lockwood, 1 Corinthians (Saint Louis: Concordia Pub. House, 2000), 404.

[6] Admission to the Lord's Supper, Commission on Theology and Church Relations report, The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod (1999), 36.

[7] Admission to the Lord's Supper, 38.

[8] Lockwood, 403.

[9] Luther’s Works, Vol. 38, 125.

[10] Albrecht Peters, Thomas Harvey Trapp, and Gottfried Seebass, Commentary on Luther's Catechisms: Baptism and Lord's Supper (Saint Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2012), 209.

[11] Franz Pieper, Christian Dogmatics, Vol. I (Saint Louis, MO: Concordia Publ. House, 1953), 22.

[12] Guidelines for Congregational, District, and Synodical Communion Statements, Report, Commission on Theology and Church Relations, The Lutheran Church - Missouri Synod (2014), 1.

[13] Prepared communicants for the Lord's Table are believers who REPENT of their sins, wanting to turn away from them; BELIEVE in Jesus as their personal Savior for full forgiveness of all their sins and in the presence of His body and blood in the bread and wine; INTEND to grow, by the power of the Holy Spirit, in a more committed life with Jesus and His Church.

[14] Lockwood, 403.

[15] Armin W. Schuetze and Irwin J. Habeck, The Shepherd Under Christ: A Textbook for Pastoral Theology (Milwaukee: Northwestern Pub. House, 1981), 85.

[16] "Communion refused?," Esgetology, February 06, 2013, , accessed April 24, 2017, http://www.esgetology.com/2013/02/06/communion-refused/.

'¡Qué padre!' (or 'You'll never look at a goat the same way again...')

For the devil smelled a rat, and perceived that if the languages were revived a hole would be knocked in his kingdom which he could not easily stop up again.

In proportion then as we value the gospel, let us zealously hold to the languages. And let us be sure of this we will not long preserve the gospel without the languages. The languages are the sheath in which this sword of the Spirit is contained; they are the casket in which this jewel is enshrined; they arc the vessel in which this wine is held; they are the larder in which this food is stored; and, as the gospel itself points out, they are the baskets in which are kept these loaves and fishes and fragments. If through our neglect we let the languages go (which God forbid!), we shall not only lose the gospel, but the time will come when we shall be unable either to speak or write a correct Latin or German. As proof and warning of this, let us take the deplorable and dreadful example of the universities and monasteries,in which men have not only unlearned the gospel, but have in addition so corrupted the Latin and German languages that the miserable folk have been fairly turned into beasts, unable to speak or write a correct German or Latin, and have well-nigh lost their natural reason to boot.

It is inevitable that unless the languages remain, the gospel must finally perish.

--Martin Luther, excerpted from his 1524 treatise To The Councilmen Of All Cities In Germany That They Establish And Maintain Christian Schools

שלום עליכם ("Shalom Aleikhem!", "Peace be upon you!") 

So, what do Spanish, a talking goat named Black Phillip, and this Hebrew greeting have in common?

"I'm a baaaaaaaad goat."

Absolutely nothing, really; however, I thought I might spend some quality time posting here in Indiana on this Father's Day about languages (since I'm still batchin' it with the cat while my wife is in Texas on business and able to spend time with our extended family)... Why? Well, it really has more to do with my present change of vocation and impending change of geography, than anything else. But the real catalyst is a witch. Confused? Keep reading...

The current seminary course I'm taking deals with history, and last week's discussion dealt with the first European immigrants to the New World, practically all of whom were Protestant Christians who brought their religious beliefs with them. One night last week, on the recommendation of the professor, I watched The Madness of King George (about George III, who reigned during the Revolutionary War), which I had not heard of and thought was very good-- I recommend it, even if you couldn't care a whit about history! Anyway. Last night I did a search on "history" through Google Play and among the titles was one that seemed more suited to the horror genre, The VVitch, which (!) came out two years ago. Well, turns out that the original title was The VVitch: A New-England Folktale. So before I paid, I looked it up and found out a few interesting things about it. The film's writer-director did in-depth research on the period of the story, early 17th century, down to the clothing, living conditions, lighting (natural and candle), customs and superstitions, and dialect of English spoken by Puritans at the time. Actually, it was a pretty good movie, all things considered (good acting, great cinematography, building suspense, etc., though a tad gory in some places)...

The drawback to the director's efforts toward near-authenticity comes in the dialogue-- the dialect is an English one, replete with Early Modern English second person pronouns (as clear, thy, thee, etc.)-- which is difficult to understand in some parts of the film. (Except when Black Phillip speaks-- he's clear as a bell...) There's a very good post about all of this on the blog The Past in the Present.

I got up this morning still dealing with a sinus infection (it feels like dry pocket from a tooth extraction, but in my sinus cavity) and after a pill-poppin' frenzy and a couple of cups of coffee, I decided to work on a reboot of what little Spanish ever knew in preparation for the Rio Grande Valley. One of the websites/apps I recommended to my high school Russian students is Russian Pod 101, and there's also a Spanish Pod 101. My entire Spanish language career consists of being in a 7th grade Spanish class in NJ long enough to learn the alphabet before my family moved to Texas and then I somehow escaped any classroom instruction in any foreign language through high school (though kids in most places in Texas can get enough Tex-Mex to be dangerous). Some 20 years later, I took the equivalent of two college semesters' worth of Spanish, at the same government language school where I was assigned as a Russian instructor, just to see if how I would do on a proficiency test. I came up average in Reading and "functional" in Listening. A speaking test wasn't offered. (Just as well.)

Now it's almost 20 years after that, and I feel like I'm back at square one. So this morning I dabbled in español for about an hour... As I moved through some of the podcast and video content, vocabulary and grammar started to come back to me, but, man o man (not mano a mano), do I need work!

Oh yeah, the "¡Qué padre!" in the post title is nothing more than an exclamation in one of the videos that reminded me of my Spanish instruction while still in the Navy-- in Mexican Spanish it means "Cool!" (or even "How cool!").

And about the Hebrew greeting to open this post? Well, that's a horse (or goat, maybe) of a different color entirely...

My seminary program requires only Greek of the two biblical languages typically assigned to four-year students (and I took intensive Greek-- "Greek Boot Camp," as it's referred to so endearingly around campus). Last semester I got the idea that since I'd still be at the seminary for the remaining two courses over the summer, why not see if I could just sit in on Hebrew 1? So I bought the books and on the first day of class (last Monday), I realized what I had done. What was I thinking?! Summer Hebrew is just as intensive as Summer Greek! As the graduate assistant was at the board going through the Hebrew alphabet, dageshes and all, I made the decision to NOT bite off more than I could chew and postpone any Hebrew instruction for the foreseeable future...at least as foreseeable as today.

The Master's Seminary of the non-denominational, but very Baptist-y, Grace Community Church (pastored by John MacArthur) offers a free online Hebrew 1 course (+ materials). This morning I tried-- and very much liked-- the first lesson (though each is over an hour long). One of the first things the professor did was to give the class some rudimentary everyday Hebrew, thus the שלום עליכם above. I don't know how devoted I can be to an hour of Hebrew from time to time, but I'm going to give it a try. In the meantime, I remain a little more savvy in a Romance language... Here, I'll show you:

After I finish this post, I'm going to text my wife ¡Te quiero a morir! (lit. "I want you to death!", but a Mexican idiom that translates "I love you very much!"). That's about all the Don Juan (or Don Quixote-- I always get them mixed up) I have in me...

...for now. [evil grin]

Остерегайтесь говорящих козлов!

[Okay, I can see that was uncalled for. "Beware of talking goats!" in Russian. But do. Beware. Talking goat...bad. Talking donkey...good (can see an angel...ref. Numbers 22). Talking horse...Mister Ed.]

To all of you Dads out there, Happy Father's Day! (BTW, any smooth-talkin' hablo-un-poco-de-español hermano can be a father, but it takes much more to be a Dad!)

Peace out, ya'll.

P.S. My eldest daughter sent me a link to a webpage explaining the origin(s) of Father's Day. Check it out...

'The truth is stranger than fiction, judgy-wudgy!'

So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” They answered him, “We are offspring of Abraham and have never been enslaved to anyone. How is it that you say, ‘You will become free’?” Jesus answered them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed." (John 8:31-36 ESV)

[That's Curly swearing in to testify in the Three Stooges short, Disorder in the Court.]

The more I learn about what others-- even "other" Lutherans (meaning in no other sense than not Lutheran Church - Missouri Synod)-- believe and what taste the very designation "Lutheran" leaves in the mouths of Christians and non-Christians alike, the more fascinated I become! (Luther never envisioned "Lutherans," but a reformed (little r) Roman Catholic Church; in fact, he disliked the label altogether.)

I started my penultimate seminary course on Monday, the history of Lutherans in America. I'm enjoying it, as well as the "textbook" we use, Lutherans in America: A New History, written by an ELCA professor and published in 2015. It's so insightful, I've placed it at the top of my good reads list (at right). The seed planted by Luther 500 years ago has sprouted more than a few trees of questionable fruit-- this book is a ride through the cultural, ethnic, geographical, civic, religious, and language issues that European Lutherans faced in the New World, then as part of the predominately English-speaking Colonies. Imagine you're among Lutheran arriving in a place with a different climate, indigenous peoples, other immigrants from different cultures and languages, and a dearth of pastors. And add conflicts with the British and the French, as well as theological differences with Anglican Episcopalians, Protestant Reformed, and Lutherans with differing doctrine and practice, and, likely, an altered (forsooth!) Lutheran Confessions... Well, it's very easy to see why there are so many different Lutheran strains in existence.

On my drive to class this morning, I was listening to the local hard-right news and talk station on the radio and they played a clip of Ted Nugent (popular 70s rock guitarist/singer and now the rusting hood ornament for the NRA) blathering on about the congressmen coming together in their annual baseball game as a show of brotherhood and a united stand for what makes this country great (or something like that). Anyway, he made an all-American sounding statement (underlined) that my mental DVR captured:

[From Fox News website story] Nugent also said he is encouraging his "friends [and] enemies on the left in the Democrat and liberal world that we have got to be civil to each other, that the whole world is watching America, where you have the God-given right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, and we have got to be more respectful to the other side."

Two thoughts occurred to me near-simultaneously (I know, you're amazed that they didn't kill me...hah ha). First, Nugent's sentiment reflects that of the majority of Americans (or "a-MUR-kens"), who were taught that a) this country is "One nation under God" and, in a deceivingly similar-sounding verse penned by Thomas Jefferson in our Declaration of Independence, b) "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness." Second, Jefferson, like many of the founding fathers, was a Deist. What's a Deist? Well, loosely defined, a Deist is a person who subscribes to the theory that the Creator of the universe and all things in it reveals Himself in the immutable laws of nature...that is, God created the world then disappeared, leaving behind a whole lot of clues; that we can seek and, theoretically, "find" God through the apps He's built into us (endowed us with), such as a conscious, reason, sexuality, etc.

So it was the "God-given right" part of Nugent's proclamation that caught my ear. But that's not what Jefferson said, though it may very well have been what he meant. I have no doubt that the founding fathers' vision and planning for their new republic was guided by Providence and the final result was prodigious (coalescing 13 individual colonies into one country, built on democracy and individual freedoms)... But for Jefferson, as Peter S. Onuf (Thomas Jefferson Memorial Professor of History at the University of Virginia) writes, the natural world was like a great book, made legible to scientists (or “natural philosophers”) through its predictable and lawful patterns. Enlightened men who discerned nature’s laws could begin to master the world, promoting the improvement of man’s lot and fulfilling God’s original intentions for His creation. The Declaration of Independence is one of the most eloquent documents ever produced, but its-- Jefferson's-- theology is a product of its time, the Enlightenment faith in a rational, law-governed world created by a “supreme architect” or cosmic “clockmaker.”

Nowhere in Scripture does God reveal to us that we have been given rights to anything, much less life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Does God desire such things for us? Of course! And we had all of those things (and more!) before sin entered the picture. The term itself, "right," is often wrong. As a noun, a right is "a moral or legal entitlement to have or obtain something or to act in a certain way" (so sayeth dictionary.com). A moral or legal entitlement. And the words right and entitlement are strange bedfellows-- the latter a battle cry for so many in a postlapsarian world in which, honestly, we are entitled to absolutely nothing from God. That we're even here to think about it is a GIFT from God, and that's only because of His love for His wayward creations in the work of Christ Jesus. 

Let's look at "right" in a more secular and familiar way. Would we say that a legal heir to an estate is entitled-- has the right of claim-- to an inheritance? Sure, and this is an example of a legal or a civic right, which can be exercised or not. Ultimately, a right is the ability to decide for one’s self; to make a choice. Exercising a right is always a choice. Choosing to not exercise it is still a choice; a decision based upon thought. And that is the core of all inalienable rights, according to the Voices of Liberty website. Lutherans believe and teach that God has given Man free will in earthly matters, i.e. life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness; however, Man has no say-so, or rights, or before God (ref. Augsburg Confession, Article 18). We cannot even come to faith on our own, contrary to popular misconception (and popular Christian doctrine).

In the same radio discussion, the topic of "absolute truth" came up. There was a group bemoaning that for the Millennial generation there are no absolute truths. Everything is relative and experience-oriented. I would agree (with their bemoaning) and add that there are older folks moving through this world-- like that angry, disenfranchised guy who shot up the Republicans' baseball practice-- for whom absolute truth is corroborated by other like-minded thinkers, and, in my humble opinion, accepted through emotion rather than reason. Social media is burning absolute truth at the stake.

One of the most profound statements in all of the Bible is made by Pontius Pilate in the form of a rhetorical question in John 18:38. In Pilate v. God, Jesus tells him (matter-of-factly, I like to think) "The reason I was born and came into the world is to testify to the truth Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.” Pilate, somewhat dejectedly, but very honestly, responds "What is truth?"

There's a pretty good website about Lutheran theology, LutheranReformation.org, where I found this: To many twenty-first-century minds, the claim that there is objective truth is regarded with deep suspicion. To suggest that there is one, and only one, absolute truth about God is regarded by many today as absurd, foolish, ridiculous, or the sign of an intolerant and weak mind. Sadly, even many modern Christians now view claims of truth and certainty with a good deal of suspicion. But truth and falsehood are real. It is possible to know truth and it is necessary to reject all errors that contradict the truth. God reveals absolute truth in His Word.

I'm not at all knocking science or philosophy, Man's unquenchable thirst for answers. But how much of what the world tells us is a certainty? For me, absolute truth can only be vetted through faith. An absolute truth is a truth that is the same everywhere, all the time. Like the world is round. AND like the same world is broken, disordered, and full of fear (of both the known and unknown). The cause is the disease of sin for which there is only One cure:

[Lutherans] believe, teach, and confess that the unregenerate will of man is not only turned away from God, but also has become an enemy of God, so that it only has an inclination and desire for that which is evil and contrary to God, as it is written (Genesis 8:21): The imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth. Also (Romans 8:7): The carnal mind is enmity against God; for it is not subject to the Law of God, neither, indeed, can be. Yea, as little as a dead body can quicken itself to bodily, earthly life, so little can man, who by sin is spiritually dead, raise himself to spiritual life, as it is written Ephesians 2:5: Even when we were dead in sins, He hath quickened us together with Christ; 2 Corinthians 3:5: Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think anything good as of ourselves, but that we are sufficient is of God. (ref. Epitome of the Formula of Concord, Article II)

Okay. You can file this post under "Proselytizing on a Friday Afternoon." I hope I made a point or two-- when you hear the Ted Nugents express what appears to be an actual absolute truth, be careful. Or you might wind up with Cat Scratch Fever... (Now that's an absolute truth, Millennials.)

¡Vaya con Dios (not con Deists), ya'll!

P.S. On the topic of absolute truth, a pastor responded to a question about God and civil government on a blog with these words:

If there is no God, then you are correct, this world should essentially be live and let live. But, if there is a God, as billions around the globe would argue there is, then He is the One who has the say of right and wrong, not us. We can say and do as we please, but ultimately, if truth is up to us, then He’s not really God is He? If He exists, if He created this world, then He is the source of all life and truth, and we play by His rules. You may certainly disagree with me on this, but someday we will find out truth isn’t relative. Either you’re right, or you’re wrong.