Convention Notes from the Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod

Editor's Note: This information has been compiled from official information and reports coming out of the WELS convention. The reporter was not on site to observe the convention.

The Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod (WELS) held its biennial convention on the week of July 29–August 1. The convention was held at Martin Luther College, the synod's pre-seminary and teacher training college in New Ulm, Minnesota. The convention establishes programs, fiscal policies and goals, and broadly directs the synod's ministry and outreach plans.

According to pre-convention memoranda and news, this convention has several major issues before it in addition to its regular business and duties, but by far the issue that has generated the most interest and discussion is on the matter of which English Bible translation—if any—should be adopted for use by the synod particularly in its publications and educational resources.

The NIV 1984, the official Bible translation currently used in WELS publications, is being phased out and replaced with a new version, the "NIV 2011." A WELS' "Translation Evaluation Committee" (TEV) was created to research the NIV 2011. The same committee has also researched many other versions, including the English Standard Version (ESV) and the Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB).

In the report it prepared for the convention, the TEV outlined two options that it sees for deciding which Bible translation to use in WELS publications going forward. Option 1: WELS adopts NIV 2011 for use in materials produced by Northwestern Publishing House. Option 2: WELS does not adopt a single Bible version for use in its publications at this time. NPH uses whichever version of these three (ESV, HCSB, NIV 2011) seems best for the passage cited and the publication in which the biblical text will appear ("eclectic approach").

The 2011 convention also resolved that, as a possible alternative, the synod should consider producing a new translation by Lutherans. A "Translation Feasibility Committee" (TFC) was created to research the legal, technical, and economic feasibility of WELS creating a confessional Lutheran translation of the Bible and/or producing a study Bible with notes to accompany the translation that WELS chooses to use in its publications.

The report that the TFC submitted for the 2013 convention concludes, "Perhaps the question should not be, 'Can we do it?' but, 'Must we do it?' If the people of our synod believe that there is no existing translation of the Bible that can serve our preaching, teaching, and publishing needs, then we'd trust that the Lord would help us find the resources and overcome the obstacles to carry out what is sure to be a very challenging project. But if an existing translation or translations can serve our needs, it would save the time and expense, not to mention the potential disruption to our ministerial education system, to use an existing translation."

Justification and the Pastor's Daily Work

Confessional Lutheran theology sets Lutherans apart from other theologies. What impact, if any, does this have on the parish pastor? How does Lutheran theology shape the daily work of the pastor? Particularly, what does justification have to do with parish practice? This question, Rev. Scott Murray suggests, could use some more attention. See below for an introduction to his thoughts on the matter.

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Confessing the Truth of Jesus

Jesus puts the question to his disciples, a question that will not go away: "Who do men say that I am?" Whether on the History Channel, in popular magazines, scholarly seminars, or chance conversations, it is an enduring inquiry, this question about Jesus. The disciples chime in with their speculative answers: "Some say John the Baptist, some Elijah, or Jeremiah or one of the prophets." 

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The Missing Trait: A Response to “11 Traits of Churches That Will Impact the Future"

— Ryan J. Ogrodowicz

An article written by Carey Neuwhof, “11 Traits of Churches That Will Impact the Future,” contains eleven characteristics of churches he believes “will have a significant impact a decade from now.” Society is rapidly changing, he notes, and so the church needs to accommodate and act according to the change. He limits that change in his premise, “Don’t get me wrong, we don’t need to change the message. Just the method. One is sacred. The other is not.” The logic here is easy and common. Method lacks divine quality, so we’re free to experiment as long as the message remains intact. Experimentation is for adapting to culture-to capture its fleeting attention for the sake of getting people in the doors. Method is the bait leading to the more important message. The latter is sacred; the former is not, at least according to the author.

The premise gives the illusion no relationship exists between message and method other than the latter should lead to the former. Method leads to the message rather than being derived and governed by the message, a subtle but noticeable difference.

Traits #1 and #3 pertain to a pastor’s ability to make decisions over and above the preferences of a congregation, all compassionately done for the sake of the unchurched: “When you learn to say no to the preferences of some current members, you learn to say yes to a community that is ready to be reached.” And such decisions need to be done in haste. “Can your church or organizations make quick decisions? If not, amend your constitution so you can. If the congregation needs to vote on everything, just realize this is going to be your Achilles’ heel when it comes to making the changes you need to make.” Allow me to translate: a pastor’s preferences override the preferences of the congregation because when it comes to outsiders, he knows best and should make decisions over and above a pesky voter’s meeting.

There is no disputing that voter’s meetings slow things down, and that a top-down approach is more expedient. But congregational votes exist for a reason. They keep sinful pastors in check from doing something potentially harmful for the church, and they give everyone an opportunity to see what’s going on, pray about the matter, consult Scripture, discuss, pray again, and vote. It’s a process, but one that forces Christians to exercise patience, prayer, discipline, and the consultation of Holy Scripture before casting an important vote. Under Carey’s model expediency certainly wins, but at the cost of a congregation’s Christian duty to make sure things are done in decently and in order (1 Cor 14:40).

Trait #2 appeals to outsiders with the call to be “outsider focus.” “Churches that become passionate about people outside their walls will be far more effective than churches that are passionate about keeping the few people they have inside their walls.” Translation: be more passionate about outsiders than those you already have.

As a pastor, I am passionate about keeping God’s sheep, and unapologetically so. Jesus tells Peter three times in John 21 to feed his sheep. Who are the sheep but the ones the Holy Spirit has called, gathered, enlightened, and sanctified by the gospel? The pastor is charged to feed the sheep, and what they are fed makes all the difference. A congregation should never be taken for granted and neglected for the sake of outsiders. They need constant care, feeding and protection because the devil is always seeking to devour the sheep of Christ. Christians of all stripes face trials and temptations, sin, and the devil, and so every week they need God’s forgiveness and healing by his grace in Christ. Rather than calling pastors to focus on one group or the other, Christ’s words are simple: “feed my sheep” (John 21:17). And when the pastor feeds by teaching the words of Jesus, Jesus is present (Matt 28:20).

A top-down power structure allows for change and experimentation in the worship service. Being able to quickly tailor the experience to meet a changing culture is the goal pastors can reach when they are free to play with the service unhindered by congregational preferences. In trait #9 Carey extols the “high value of experimentation” while dismissing anything reeking of tradition. Experiential trial and error will help the church to discover what works and what isn’t “producing results.” As to the nature of those results, we’re left to speculate. This relates to the final trait “a tailored experience, not a tailored message.” Here the reader is brought full circle to the original division of method and message only now “method” is replaced with “experience.” It’s no surprise that Carey, given his penchant for change and adaption, emphasizes the experience of the church goer; appealing to an evolving culture is the thrust of the article. Granted, first impressions are important, for people do cast judgments based on experiences. Cold shoulders and unfriendly faces don’t bode well for visitors, Christian or not. Furthermore, a worship service done in a sloppy, haphazard manner can be a stumbling block, and certainly not indicative of the pastor charged to do his best to be a “one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth” (2 Tim 2:15). There are no biblical commands for vestments and candles, stained glass and organs, and so churches can opt to remove such “obstacles” to appeal to those more inclined towards bands and spotlights, jeans and suits. As long as the message remains the same, the church is at liberty to tailor the experience, or so the argument goes.

Against this premise, an intimate relationship between method and message does exist, to the degree that one can affect the other. When churches begin emphasizing experience and change in order to appeal to culture, doing whatever it takes to tickle the senses and offer something palatable to the masses, such methodologies can affect the message. I’m not convinced the attempt to be relevant can be as easily segregated from the sacred message as Carey and others suggest. If a church spends all her waking hours appealing to people’s perceptions and emotions, discussing change and relevancy, who is to say this approach won’t bleed over into how the message is handled? Relevant experience runs the risk of leading to a relevant message; and by relevant I mean making the hearer comfortable and smug, confident and proud, without fear of sin and need of a savior. This flies in the face of the sacred message convicting of sinners, cutting to the heart, and showing our desperate need for a gracious savior given by God’s grace in Jesus Christ. When pastors do things like zip line in church, host erotic dancers, and talk about sex after the blaring music of Ozzie Osborne, are we really supposed to believe such experiments have no effect on how people perceive the message? (See alittleleaven.com for examples). The quest for experimentation has no boundaries as churches conjure up more relevant ideas to capture culture’s attention while promising to deliver the sacred message. We’re told the secular is supposed to point to the sacred. I’m not buying it.

Churches so intent on appealing to culture overlook a key tenet in secular business models: packaging matters. In trait #11, Carey makes the point that despite how we experience receiving a gift, the gift is the same. The experience of online shopping as opposed to going to the mall doesn’t affect the gift itself. It’s true: diamonds are diamonds whether they come in a refined case or brown paper sack. But that’s not how jewelry companies think and rightly so. The reality is the wrapper prompts us to judge what’s behind. Look at books. Dust jackets don’t just protect, but they exhibit flashy advertisements enticing the would-be reader to pick up the book and investigate. Jewelers don’t place diamonds in zip lock bags and paper sacks, but in felt cases of silky, cushioned insides highlighting carefully placed gems. Steve Jobs labored over the packaging of the Macintosh because in his eyes the box pointed to and underscored the content. To him it was worth redoing a box some fifty times before finally settling on a polished result ((Walter Isaacson, Steve Jobs, 134)). I doubt Zondervan, Tiffany & Co., and Apple would fall for anyone arguing that the way a gift is packaged and experienced for the first time doesn’t affect the product.

On the contrary, it matters a great deal and not because of the content, but also on account of the person engaging the content. This is a matter of subjective versus objective. How a subject perceives the object is important. If someone on the street approaches me with a brown bag full of shiny crystal-like stones and says they’re real diamonds, I’m going to be reticent to believe. Take me into a high-end jewelry store, and I’ll have no trouble believing the carefully displayed, tested, and marked stones are exactly what they’re claimed to be. There is a mindset in the church that the holy, sacred message, the oracles of the almighty living God, should be seen as a precious diamond despite being wrapped in contemporary trappings such as high-powered rock bands, spotlights, videos, theatrics, and erotic love. This type of packaging and experience does little to convey to the hearer that a holy God is present, to whom we offer “acceptable worship with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire” (Heb 12:28–29).

Change may be in the wind, but a certain constant aspect of human nature cannot be overlooked: people are sinners. People are corrupted by sin from conception, in rebellion to God, wicked and unrighteous the moment their life begins. All this talk about change and accommodation shrouds the paramount problem of man that is his sinful nature. Those who are lost live in darkness. Those who live in unbelief live with the “wrath of God” upon them (John 3:36). Those dead in trespasses will not be born again by gimmicks, charades, and staying on top of trends, but by the Holy Word of God-the efficacious, powerful Word that gets no press in Carey’s article and other articles of the same vein. “11 Traits of Churches That Will Impact the Future” painfully fails to highlight and unpack the intimate relationship between message and method, thus creating the perception that methods can be derived from a source other than the sacred message. Not one of Carey’s traits mentions the nature of preaching and its impact. And perhaps that’s the greatest travesty in this. The Greek verb from which the English “to preach” is derived occurs some sixty times in the New Testament! One would think that a church serious on impacting the world would at least give a passing mention of the nature and importance of preaching. Sadly, of all the traits suggested, rightly handling and preaching the “word of truth” is not one of them.

God’s word has always been put into the mouths of his servants to strike the heart of the hearer. His word, capable of bringing creation into being, also creates what doesn’t come from within the flesh, the miracle of faith (Rom 10:17). If a church wants to make an impact, then she should emphasize and labor to preach the word, the sacred message through which the Holy Spirit enlivens hearts to believe and trust in the mercy and forgiveness of God. And this impact will be anything but pretty. The world never takes kindly to the word of God and Christian conviction. Just look at the martyrs. Or Jesus when he says “I chose you out of the world; therefore the world hates you” (John 15:19). When the world hates the church, she’s doing something right. The article left me without the sense that the word of God undergirds these traits even though their goal should be to highlight and convey the word of God to a sinful world. Perhaps this is telling in and of itself. I wonder if there’s the assumption that every church has the message down pat, and so there’s no need to discuss it. Or maybe we’d rather avoid discussions on scripture and doctrine. Then again, it may be we lack faith in the efficacy of the word, hence the nauseating emphasis on methods and practice coming out of many religious circles.

The world is going to change, but sin remains the same. The world will always rejoice over Christian blood. The devil will roam to devour, and cosmic evil will threaten. Despite how culture changes, there is real danger facing the church that man cannot overcome. We desperately need to know what our true weapons are and be equipped for battle, because when it comes, the wisdom and musings of man are destined to fail. The word of God stands forever. It can never be absent in the church’s discussion on impacting the world.

The Rev. Ryan Ogrodowicz serves as pastor of Victory in Christ Lutheran Church in Newark, Texas.

As an extension of LOGIA, BLOGIA understands itself to be a free conference in the blogosphere. As such, the views expressed on Blogia are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of LOGIA’s editorial board or the Luther Academy.

Book Review: Die Erlanger Theologie

Editor's Note: As an extra for the Eastertide 2013 issue of LOGIA, we are posting this book review from the Eastertide 1997 edition of LOGIA. If you'd like to purchase a copy of all the back issues of LOGIA, please click here. Die Erlanger Theologie (no. 67 in Einzelarbeiten aus der Kirchengeschichte Bayerns). By Karlmann Beyschlag. Erlangen: Martin-Luther-Verlag with the Verein für bayerische Kirchengeschichte, 1993. 295 pages.

Since the nineteenth century, the theological faculty at the University of Erlangen has been the citadel of confessional Lutheranism. In the 1940s and 1950s, students from America and other foreign countries streamed to Erlangen, attracted by the world theological leadership of its university.

But after the deaths of Elert and Althaus, a reaction set in the theological faculty as well as in the Lutheran churches of Germany. The teachings of Karl Barth, the Barmen Declaration, and the “Confessing Church” began to suppress confessional Lutheranism. Principles of the Union Church, including intercommunion and open communion (Leuenberg Concord), were accepted by the Lutheran churches. A much less talented group of theologians replaced the great ones at Erlangen. Several of these sought notoriety by denouncing Elert and Althaus. In 1971, they succeeded in having the traditional subscription of the Lutheran Book of Concord abolished at Erlangen. Since then, Erlangen has been the launching pad for attacks upon the Lutheran Church and its symbolic books. The special target of their assaults has been the Lutheran distinction of law and gospel and the doctrine of the two realms.

The significance of this new book is that Karlmann Beyschlag, a pupil of Elert and Althaus, has written both a brilliant historical work and a strong defense against many falsehoods that have been leveled against these stalwart Lutherans.

The author begins by delineating the background of Erlangen theology, stemming from the Awakening Movement of the nineteenth century. Important impulses came from Christian Krafft, Carl von Raumer, and the earlier thinker Johann Georg Hamann. He then gives sketches of the most important theologians at Erlangen.

First is Adolf von Harleß (1806–79), who was both an important scholar and a powerful church leader. As theologian he was the founder of Erlangen theology and one of its most important writers; as churchman and friend of Löhe he was able to separate the Lutheran and Reformed parts of the Protestant state church and to create a confessional Lutheran church in Bavaria (33–57). Next, Beyschlag discusses the greatest Erlangen theologian of the nineteenth century, Johann Christian Konrad von Hofmann (1810–77), giving a brilliant presentation of his complicated thought. Hofmann made a deep impression upon several Americans, including the Dubuque theologian Johann Michael Reu.

Within the scope of this theology came the “Erlangen School,” a movement that built upon the theologian’s personal experience of salvation and emphasized the Lutheran Confessions. Beginning with Harleß and explicated through Höfling, Hofmann, Thomasius, Delitzsch, Theodosius Harnack, von Zezschwitz, Schmid, and Frank, the movement spread from Erlangen to the universities of Leipzig, Rostock, Greifswald, and Dorpat. The “Erlangen School” as a specific theological movement ended with the death of Frank in 1894, but another important theological program was to appear at Erlangen in the twentieth century, building upon the earlier movement.

In a separate chapter, Beyschlag characterizes a group of church historians at the university who did not really belong to the “Erlangen School” movement, especially Theodor Zahn, Albert Hauck, and Reinhold Seeberg. He then discusses three other important historians: Gustav Plitt, Theodore Kolde, and Karl Schornbaum.

In chapter 7 he presents “the second blossoming of Erlangen theology” (143–203). This movement began with the criticism of the old “Erlangen School” by a pupil of Frank, Ludwig Ihmels. Without rejecting the importance of the religious certainty of the theologian, Ihmels warned that not human experience but divine revelation must be the true basis of a sound theology (143–145). Beyschlag names three great men in the rebirth of Erlangen theology: Otto Procksch, Werner Elert, and Paul Althaus.

The Old Testament scholar Procksch, who was a very strong teacher as well as writer, renewed Hofmann’s conception of Heilsgeschichte. Unfortunately, Procksch’s important theology of the Old Testament was not published until after his death (1950), so that it was already superseded by the fine work of his pupil Walter Eichrodt (148). Procksch is remembered equally for his firm confessional Lutheranism and for his determined stand against the Nazi movement.

Beyschlag ranks Elert and Hofmann as the two most important Erlangen scholars in the past two centuries. He describes Elert as “the totally unclerical man who, in his outward appearance, looked more like a general in civilian clothing than a theologian” (151). Elert, “like all intellectual giants,” was “an uncommonly complicated character, who was just as easily offended as he was polemically feared” (151–152). He cites the remark of Trillhaas: “Elert had not a single friend with whom he had not at least once had a sturdy fight” (151).

Elert’s early writings were historical and systematic, and were largely devoted to Luther, Melanchthon, the Lutheran Confessions, and subsequent developments in the history of theology. In some way or other, the distinction of law and gospel took an important place in all these writings. ((A balanced evaluation of Elert appears in the new monograph by the Icelander Sigurjon Arni Eyjolfsson, Rechtfertigung und Schöpfung in der Theologie Werner Elerts, no. 10 in new series of Arbeiten zur Geschichte und Theologie des Luthertums (Hannover: Lutherisches Verlagshaus, 1994).)) After 1945 he turned increasingly toward his long-projected history of dogma; however, except for the volume on church fellowship and several important essays, this work lay uncompleted at his death, after which Wilhelm Maurer and Elisabeth Bergsträßer edited an additional volume from the materials that he had left. ((Since Werner Elert is of special interest to American readers, we present here his principal writings. The first major work of Werner Elert, written while he was still head of the Old Lutheran seminary in Breslau, appeared in 1921 under the title Der Kampf um das Christentum; this was an investigation and evaluation of recent philosophy and apologetics, mainly of the nineteenth century. In 1924 appeared the first edition of his Die Lehre des Luthertums im Abriß, which was translated and published by Charles M. Jacobs under the title An Outline of Christian Doctrine, 1927; the second German edition, 1926, was greatly revised and enlarged. Elert’s chief work was his two-volume Morphologie des Luthertums, 1931, of which volume 1 was translated by Walter A. Hansen and published by Concordia Publishing House as The Structure of Lutheranism, 1962. The first edition of his dogmatics, Der christliche Glaube, appeared in 1940; parts of this have been published in English by Concordia Publishing House. His Das christliche Ethos followed in 1949 and was translated and published as The Christian Ethos by Carl Schindler, 1957. The last work that he prepared for publication was Abendmahl und Kirchengemeinschaft in der alten Kirche, hauptsächlich des Ostens, 1954, translated by Norman E. Nagel and published by Concordia Publishing House under the title Eucharist and Church Fellowship in the First Four Centuries. This book interprets communio sanctorum in the Apostles’ Creed as a neuter, i.e., as the participation in the sacraments, and it presents a spirited case for closed communion. An important essay by Elert, Gesetz und Evangelium, 1948, was translated and published by Edward H. Schroeder as Law and Gospel, 1967. Posthumously appeared Der Ausgang der altkirchlichen Christologie, 1957, edited by Maurer and Bergsträßer.)) Elert had a revolutionary concept: whereas previous historians had traced the “beginnings” of a dogma, proceeding chronologically from an early date and working downward, Elert proposed starting with the outgoings or conclusion of a churchly dogma, tracing it back toward its beginnings. Thereby Harnack’s speculations that the development of dogma was the hellenization of Christianity could be refuted by showing instead that the completed dogma represented the dehellenisation of Christian doctrine (176–177).

Before taking up Althaus, Beyschlag briefly characterizes some other important men on the faculty: the Old Testament scholar and widely-respected Rechor magnificus Friedrich Baumgärtel, the church historian and Luther scholar Hans Preuß, the “high Lutheran” church historian Hermann Sasse, the Reformation scholar Wilhelm Maurer, the multi-faceted historian and Luther scholar Walter von Loewenich, the art historian Fritz Fichtner, and the practical theologian Eduard Steinwand, who was also important for his work in the eastern churches (178–181).

Beyschlag gives a thorough presentation on the theology and personality of Paul Althaus (182–203). Althaus taught systematic theology, New Testament, and the theology of Luther. ((The most important works of Althaus are as follows: Die Prinzipien der deutschen reformierten Dogmatik im Zeitalter der aristotelischen Scholastik, 1914. Die letzten Dinge. Lehrbuch der Eschatologie, 1922. Grundriß der Ethik, 1931; 2nd ed., 1953. Die christliche Wahrheit. Lehrbuch der Dogmatik 1947; 3rd ed. 1952. Die Theologie Martin Luthers, 1962. Translation by Robert C. Schultz, The Theology of Martin Luther, 1966. Die Ethik Martin Luthers, 1965. Translation by Robert C. Schultz, The Ethics of Martin Luther, 1972. Althaus also edited a commentary, Das Neue Testament Deutsch, 12 vols., for which he wrote Der Brief an die Römer, 1936; 7th ed. 1953. An important part of his work is also reflected in the volumes of collected sermons which he delivered as University Preacher at Erlangen.)) His systematic theology was characterized by his emphasis upon the First Article (Althaus held “a theology of Creation,” 190–194), a theology marked by the contrast between the original revelation (Ur-Offenbarung) and the revelation of salvation (Heilsoffenbarung), “in which the creator will of God included almightily the revelation of salvation” (191). In the discipline of ethics, this theological concept was expressed in a “theology of orders” (Theologie der Ordnungen). These orders were a part of God’s creation: marriage, family, community, government, and cultural development (199). Althaus did not spare criticism of the Nazis. Referring to Althaus’s Theologie der Ordnungen, 1935, Beyschlag cites Althaus: “Also in the Third Reich, our critical ethics of orders cannot resign and rest at ease,” and then Beyschlag adds: “There now follows a public catalog of vices which is so close to reality that one at least wonders that the book was not immediately forbidden. For under this ‘critical ethics’ falls not only the ‘autonomous legality’ of the state and the economy, but also the idolatry of folk, race, destruction of law, and also eugenics, euthanasia, ‘the destruction of unworthy life,’ etc.” (201). In his “creation theology,” Althaus came into fundamental conflict with Karl Barth. Since the death of Althaus, the followers of Barth, of the old Bekennende Kirche, and of the Union Church have leashed a merciless attack upon both Althaus and Elert for rejecting the Barmen Declaration. ((An example is the attack by Arthur C. Cochrane, a Presbyterian professor of theology at a Lutheran seminary, The Church’s Confession under Hitler (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1962), in which he attacks confessional Lutheranism en masse and takes the intolerant position that only Reformed theology is allowable. He feels that everyone must accept the theology of Barth and the Barmen Declaration. More moderate are the criticisms of Robert P. Ericksen, Theologians under Hitler: Gerhard Kittel, Paul Althaus and Emanuel Hirsch (New Haven: Yale, 1985). Totally irresponsible and intellectually weak are the attacks on Elert and Althaus by the Erlangen professor Berndt Hamm, “Schuld und Verstrickung der Kirche. Voruberlequngen zu einer Darstellung der Erlanger Theologie in der Zeit des Nationalsozialismus,” in Kirche und Nationalsozialismus, ed. Wolfgang Stegemann (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1990), 11–55. Both Ericksen and Hamm lack what American historians call “a historical frame of reference”; instead, they judge and condemn past scholars on the basis of notions contemporary with our time. Ericksen, however, does not write with the malicious invective found in Hamm.))

In view of the attacks upon Elert and Althaus and the allegations that they supported Hitler and National Socialism, Beyschlag presents an excursus, “The Erlangen faculty and the Kirchenkampf ” (160–170). He specifically deals with their statement on the “Aryan Paragraph” and the “Ansbach Resolution” and shows that the former actually protected Jews and that the latter was leveled against the German Christians as well as the Barmen Declaration. He points out that during the long period in which he was dean of the theological faculty (1935–1943), Elert managed to stave off attempts of a Nazi takeover, that he protected professors and students alike from the state, and that Erlangen remained almost the only “intact” theological faculty under National Socialism. In Appendix 8, Beyschlag reprints Elert’s “Report regarding the deanship of the theological faculty of Erlangen 1935–43” (266–286). He wonders why this Report, which obviously clears Elert’s reputation, was officially suppressed for many years. He points out that, in spite of severe pressure over many years that as theological dean he must join the Nazi party or at least the German Christian Movement, Elert stubbornly refused throughout; that not a single Nazi was able to become a regular professor of theology at Erlangen; that Elert as dean and at considerable personal risk protected 40 or 50 students (including Jews) who had been denounced before the Gestapo (161–162; see also 279).

Beyschlag’s book is important for American readers for two reasons. (1) This book is an excellent resource for learning about the confessional Lutheran theology of Erlangen that dominated scholarship in Germany the past 150 years, a subject about which many younger theologians in America are not well informed. (2) Confessional Lutheranism, which has seriously declined since the death of Elert (a decline brought on partly by the dominance of Karl Barth, the Barmen Declaration, and the Union churches, with their attacks upon the Lutheran distinction of law and gospel), receives an important defense in Beyschlag. This book needs to be widely read in America. It is to be hoped that it will be made available in an English translation.

 

Lowell C. Green

State University of New York at Buffalo

Buffalo, New York

NOTES

The Office and the Sacrament

—Prof. John T. Pless

The practice of licensing laymen to preach and administer the sacraments by The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod at its convention in Wichita in 1989 is widely recognized as theologically problematic. Attempts to address the so-called “Wichita Amendment” to the Augsburg Confession, as the late Richard John Neuhaus called it, have been diverse and have, in some incidences, created additional and ongoing difficulties of both a doctrinal and practical nature. Sometimes the debates surrounding the office and the attempt to correct Wichita overlook the fundamental unity of the office.

The office is inseparable from the means of grace that it is instituted to serve (cf. Matthew 28:16–20; Mark 16:14–16; Luke 24:44–49; John 20:19–23; AC V).

In the view of the New Testament there is but one office which derives its right to existence from the founding will of Christ Himself, namely the *ministerium verbi*, the ’ministry of reconciliation,’ administered by persons bearing varying titles. For practical reasons, it may also, according to the discretion of its incumbents, create special sub-agents for itself. However, titles and sub-divisions are human regulations. The *jus divinum* is confined to the *ministerium verbi*, because it was bestowed on this office, and on this office alone, by the one materially indivisible commission of Christ.[1]

The “ministry of reconciliation” of which the apostle writes in 2 Corinthians 5:18 is singular even as there is one Gospel announcing that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself. Those placed in this one office are “ambassadors for Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:20) making Christ’s own appeal to be reconciled to God. As Elert points out, the nomenclature of the New Testament may vary as the officeholder is identified as evangelist, teacher, elder, overseer, and so forth, but these are not divinely established grades or ranks but ways of speaking of the singular office instituted by Christ for the sake of the Gospel. “For there is only one office of preaching the Gospel and administering the sacraments.”[2]

AC XIV tells how men are put into this office in the way of the *rite vocatus* without which no one is to preach or administer the sacraments. Preaching and administering the sacraments go hand in hand. There is not one office for preaching and another for the administration of the sacraments. The linkage of proclamation and administering the sacraments demonstrates what Elert has identified as the coordination of word and sacrament. Problems come when word and sacraments are split off from each other so that preaching becomes a verbal abstraction or the sacraments become wordless rituals.

The coordination of word and sacraments is expressed in the fact that the one office of preaching has responsibility for the administration of both. The office bearer is entrusted with the stewardship of the mysteries of God according to the apostle: “This is how one should regard us, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. Moreover, it is required of stewards that they be found trustworthy” (1 Corinthians 4:1–2). The preaching of God’s word both calls to the sacrament of the altar and governs its use.

One person must bear the responsibility for the conduct of this concrete worship. If this is to be orderly and really edify the congregation. Its course dare not be determined by opposing or clashing wills. All other wills must cooperate with and merge in the will of one man. The administration of the sacrament of the altar in particular demands one man, who is responsible for the admission to it. Thus every administration of the Holy Communion also includes an act of church government. Therefore the chief form of worship cannot be executed properly without a man, who as shepherd of the congregation, administers the main worship service.[3]

Writing during World War II, Hermann Sasse makes the case for the unity of word and sacrament:

The office of preaching the Gospel is also the office which baptizes and celebrates the Supper. It is also the office of the keys, whether or not this is reckoned among the sacraments, as in the Augustana, or viewed as a special case of proclamation of the Gospel, as happed later in the Lutheran Church. At all costs it is the office of the administration of *the* means of grace, not only of *one* means of grace. And the Lord who left behind these means of grace for his church is also the Lord who instituted the office of the ministry.[4]

More recently Dorothea Wendebourg:

The ministry is one. It is one because its task, the public proclamation of the gospel in twofold manifestation, preaching and the administration of the sacraments is one.[5]

The role of the pastor cannot be viewed in a reductionist way that only applies to the speaking of the words of consecration; the pastor is also responsible for admission/distribution. The practice of having the pastor speak the words of consecration and then have vicars, deacons, or lay persons distribute the sacrament at another time or place cannot be defended on the basis of the Lutheran Confessions.[6] If a layman assists in the distribution in the Divine Service, he should do so by serving the Lord’s blood as the pastor admits to the altar with the administration of the Lord’s body. But it should be recognized that the practice of laymen assisting with the distribution is relatively recent in American Lutheranism and is not known in some areas of the Lutheran world, Madagascar, for example.[7]

The apostolic exhortation for self-examination (1 Corinthians 11:27) does not relieve the pastor of his responsibility as a steward of the mysteries of God (see 1 Corinthians 4:1–2). Also see AC XXIV: “Chrysostom says that the priest stands daily at the altar, inviting some to Communion and keeping others away” (AC XXIV:36, Kolb-Wengert, 71). Nor can the pastor hand this responsibility off to others; it belongs to the nature of his office as overseer. Again Sasse:

The *ministerium ecclesasticum* may also be unburdened of peripheral tasks through the establishment of new offices. That happened already in the ancient church through the creation of the diaconate, or in more recent times by the creation of the office of church counselor, church elder [*Kirchenvorsteher*, *Kirchenältesten*], or whatever else those who lead the congregation may be called. The essence of the *ministerium ecclesiasticum* is in no way impinged upon by these offices. Preaching of the Gospel and the administration of the Sacraments belong neither to the deacons nor to him whom we today call the presbyter. The former have the work of love and caring for the poor. The latter has the duty of helping in the administration of the parish. According to Lutheran doctrine, they do not have a part in church government [*Kirchenregiment*]. For Luther and with him the confessions of our church (AC XIV and XXVIII) mean by church government the exercise of the functions peculiar to the office of the ministry: ‘an authority and command of God to preach the Gospel, to forgive and retain sins, and to dispense and administer the Sacraments’[AC XXVIII:5].[8]

The suggestion of the “Specific Ministry Pastor (SMP) Task Force” that perhaps the Synod establish an “ordained diaconate” where “perhaps they (the ordained deacons) could preach and baptize but not consecrate the elements” (Convention Workbook: Reports and Overtures 2013, 417) splits apart what the Lord has joined together in the one, divinely instituted office. It amounts to attempting to fix one problem (laymen functioning as pastors) by creating another. A more careful solution is needed for which Lutheran theology has the resources.

Prof. John T. Pless teaches Pastoral Theology at Concordia Theological Seminary, Fort Wayne, IN.

As an extension of LOGIA, BLOGIA understands itself to be a free conference in the blogosphere. As such, the views expressed on Blogia are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of LOGIA’s editorial board or the Luther Academy.


  1. Werner Elert, The Christian Faith, 264.  ↩
  2. Edmund Schlink, The Theology of the Lutheran Confessions, 230.  ↩
  3. Peter Brunner, Worship in the Name of Jesus, 237.  ↩
  4. Hermann Sasse, The Lonely Way Volume II: 1941–1976, 128.  ↩
  5. D. Wendebourg, “The Ministry and Ministries” Lutheran Quarterly XV (Autumn 2001), 139.  ↩
  6. Here see, Roland F. Ziegler, “Should Lutherans Reserve the Consecrated Elements for the Communion of the Sick?" Concordia Theological Quarterly (April 2003), 131–147.  ↩
  7. See “Administration, Not Presidency” in Reclaiming the Lutheran Liturgical Heritage by Oliver K. Olson, 36–39.  ↩
  8. Sasse, The Lonely Way Volume II:1941–1976, 128–129.  ↩

Salt & Light: Syncretism?

—Prof. John T. Pless

Jesus says that his disciples are the salt of the earth and the light of the world (Matthew 5:13–14). Salt preserves, but, rubbed into an open wound, it irritates even as it purifies and heals. The light of the world is not concealed under a basket (Matthew 5:15) but enlightens so that “they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:16). There is no question that Lutherans should not be sequestered in their religious ghetto but in the world, in the public square, as salt and light. It is precisely for this reason we must reject syncretism.

With syncretism, the salt loses its saltiness as under the pressure of pluralism distinctions between the truth and the lie are blurred and obliterated. Salt will sting just as the confession of Christ alone will stand in necessary contradiction to the claims of other religious systems. Where truth is confessed, error must necessarily be denied. Letting the light shine means that works of darkness are exposed for what they are (see Ephesians 5:7–11). We are not to have any fellowship with unbelievers for “what communion has light with the darkness” (II Corinthians 6:14–16). Worship with those who do not confess Christ Jesus is a denial of the light. This is not a self-invented Missouri Synod doctrine but the teaching of Holy Scripture. For many in our pluralistic age this is a “hard saying” in the way of John 6:65–66. Yet it is necessary if Christians are actually to remain in the public square as salt and light. Proclamation of the saving truth of Jesus Christ requires also the antithesis, that is, the rejection of all that is not Christ.

Participating in interfaith worship does not allow for the antithesis. Civility prevents the preacher from announcing the truth of Acts 4:12, “Nor is there salvation in any other, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.” Where this proclamation is not made, the salt loses its saltiness and the light is dimmed.

Much is made of “witness in the public square.” But “witness in the public square” does not equate with “worship in the public square.” We will indeed witness to Christ Jesus in the public square, speaking his truth both prophetically to the powers that be and evangelically to those broken by their sin and victimized by evil. But we will not worship in the public square in such a way as to diminish the clarity of the only saving Gospel. We will be guided by the words of our Lord in Matthew 6:5–6 not to pray so as to be seen by men but pray rather in “our room” which is the church. There in the liturgy we will make thanksgivings, intercessions, and prayers for all people in the way I Timothy 2:1–6. “Worship in the public square” of American pluralism cannot help but be molded into the therapeutic and universalistic nature of civil religion. The context will even shape how the texts of Holy Scripture and Christian prayer are heard and thus undermine the capacity for confession and proclamation of Christ. On the other hand, genuine witness in the public square can take place through discerning dialogue and engaging conversation as well as acts of human care and mercy.

We witness in the public square, but we do not worship there. I asked one of my African students, “What would your people perceive if in your village during a time of drought or famine, the Lutheran pastor appeared alongside of a Roman Catholic priest, the village shaman, and a Muslim cleric in a community prayer vigil, each praying in his own way for favorable weather?” His answer was clear: “We could never do this. It would contradict our witness to Jesus Christ, the only true God.”

Lutherans will show mercy to all who suffer and groan in the travail of this fallen creation regardless of their religion. We will exhibit the compassion of Christ Jesus to those who tremble in the face of indescribable evil in word and deed. We will be the salt and light Christ has made us to be in this dying and desperate world. It is precisely for this reason that we must decline syncretism. Witness in the public square, “Yes!” Worship in the public square, “No.” Both the yes and no enable us to remain salt and light in the world.

 

Prof. John T. Pless teaches Pastoral Theology at Concordia Theological Seminary, Fort Wayne, IN.

 

As an extension of LOGIA, BLOGIA understands itself to be a free conference in the blogosphere. As such, the views expressed on Blogia are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of LOGIA’s editorial board or the Luther Academy.

The Temptation of a Church Growth Culture

—Ryan J. Ogrodowicz

In seminary my theological thinking resembled a refined box of perfect corners and refined edges. Every question had an answer; every situation had an applicable Bible passage. The ministry would be easy, I mused. By dynamic preaching coupled with a sharp understanding of doctrine, people will come in droves, filling the coffers and showering praise for my fidelity to confessional Lutheranism.

Once in the parish, however, I realized what I should have known: abstractions and reality don’t always play well together. Making a quia subscription was easy in seminary. Why? I wasn’t facing firsthand budget concerns, slow growth, and a concerned congregation. Against such obstacles, the right confession hangs in the balance as the devil chisels at your faith and integrity with questions that were previously dismissed out of hand. Am I doing something wrong? What more can I do? How far can I push the envelope? Maybe I should change some things.

It’s hard to be faithful when the old Adam never stops taking inventory and looking for the fruits of his labors. Just a glance at the gap between budgeted figures and year-to-date giving thrusts me into we-gotta-grow mode, as if growth is to be done for the sake of filling the treasury instead of serving sinners. At times it seems as if getting people in the doors at all costs is the end-all solution.

Here’s an example.

At the January voter’s meeting, one of the agenda items was to vote on moving to the Lutheran Service Book (LSB) from The Lutheran Hymnal (TLH). Allegiances were well known, as some strongly desired to retain TLH while others earnestly wanted to move to LSB. Personally, I was ready for the move. The vast majority of the LCMS uses LSB; our Altar Book is already LSB; the rites I use come from the LSB Agenda; we’re almost there, so why not complete the process? Arguments were made and the votes were cast. When the dust settled, the result was this: LSB can be used for everything except Matins, which will be done out of TLH. On hearing this, the old Adam once again put me in a choke hold. TLH Matins? How are we going to grow with this? How will people new to Lutheranism ever learn Matins from a 1941 hymnal? We’re in the 21st century and we need to cater to 21st century mindsets. This is not going to fix our budget issue.

Lord, have mercy. It’s as if I thought God was inhibited from saving because of our liturgical preference.

The truth: God has grown the church well before we went to LSB. And He did it not through gimmicks, practices, and modern hymnals, but through his spoken word. It was through his gospel that people were bestowed faith to believe in our crucified savior Jesus Christ, something human reason and strength cannot do. How foolish it is to think God cannot work through an older liturgy. How foolish it is to think God will work better when we provide emotional stimulation via bands, lights, and lapel mics. But such thoughts are powerful, and the temptation is real to jettison the emphasis on God’s objective means of grace for some human invention just to get people in the door. And the reasons for this, as mentioned, are not always good and godly, but sometimes just financial.

Thanks be to God we have a Savior whose Word never changes, and who speaks to us a freely given and underserved absolution. And we hear something we cannot hear too much of: God is faithful to do what He sets out to do. His Word will not return void, which includes bringing people through the doors to receive the gifts He promises to give.

The Rev. Ryan Ogrodowicz serves as pastor of Victory in Christ Lutheran Church in Newark, Texas.

 

As an extension of LOGIA, BLOGIA understands itself to be a free conference in the blogosphere. As such, the views expressed on Blogia are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of LOGIA's editorial board or the Luther Academy.

How to Raise Girls

—by Gifford Grobien

Feminism has pushed the idea that women are equal to men. According to this logic, the education of girls should be the same as for boys. In contemporary America, this means education for both boys and girls is pragmatic and instrumental: considering my skill set, what will get me the most prestigious and highest-paying job? Young women and men go to college seeking a degree that will serve this goal, while offering the best college experience of peer interaction and social indulgence.

There are problems with this perspective for both young men and young women, primarily in that they view a university degree and college experience as determinative for their lives. They miss a more fundamental appreciation of vocation.

In the Lutheran understanding, vocation manifests in three areas of life: the church, the family, and the political realm. Significant in this division is that an occupation falls under family responsibilities. What one does from nine to five is in support of his or her family relations and responsibilities, whether as a man or a woman. The vocation as a husband or wife, and as father or mother—should they be blessed with children—takes precedence over how prestigious or high-paying any job might be.

This is the case both for men and for women. It is important to oppose the feminist masculinization of the modern woman, yet it is also important to remind men that they have responsibilities to their wives and children that go beyond bringing home the bacon. A family man cannot resolve everything with his wallet, no matter how thick. Buying his children an education and sending them to the best summer camps and vacation spots is a weak—if not destructive—substitute for personally catechizing them and being involved in their maturation and development. A husband has a wife to die for, meaning his time with the boys, in the man-cave, or with his favorite pastime, takes a backseat to serving his wife and developing his love for her.

With regard to young women and girls, one could argue— in reaction to feminism—that they should be educated as homemakers and prepared to raise many children. Formal higher education, in this instance, could be viewed not only as superfluous, but as corrupting. When we ask our daughters what they want to be when they grow up or funnel them into the pragmatic occupational factory of the modern university, we are implicitly training them to seek fulfillment in the workplace and to despise motherhood and family.

I take a slightly different view in opposing feminism. Feminism is inspired at its root by the perceived inferior treatment of women. What better way to undermine this than to explicitly teach a kind of superiority of women? What I am thinking of is a juxtaposition of two biblical texts. The first is the exhortation to husbands in Ephesians 5:25–29:

Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church… .

The second text is from the Lukan account of the Last Supper, 22:24–27:

A dispute also arose among them, as to which of them was to be regarded as the greatest. And he said to them, "The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves.

In considering these together, the husband serves his wife in order to present her without blemish. Like Christ serves the church, the husband serves his wife. The wife is set in the place of the greater one by being served by the husband, who is willing even to give his life for her. I recognize that in the Lukan passage Jesus is overturning notions of greatness by demonstrating that true greatness is in service. My point is that feminism, at least within the church, may be addressed by following Jesus’ lead and overturning the language of greatness in favor of acts of love and service.

The wife, then, is set in the place of greatness by her husband’s service. She is superior as the one who is served. Her fundamental vocational role is to receive this service: to submit to her husband who is active and giving to her in all things. In other words, within marriage, the wife receives all things for her benefit. She needs not clamber for status or recognition; she need not be enslaved by servitude for a paycheck. She is not bound by an occupation or limited by occupational identity. Instead, her life overflows in vocational receiving and giving. She is free to rule her household and pursue her interests in loving service to others. Because she is made free by the service of the husband, she also loves others using her many talents and gifts.

Normally, central to this freedom and love of others is motherhood, yet not in every case. God may not bless every wife with children. Thus, while it is important to prepare women for motherhood, their vocation should not be presented to them as finding its fulfillment in motherhood. Women and wives who are not mothers also fulfill their vocations.

Young women should be taught to love motherhood and to see this as typical to their vocations. Yet motherhood is not the only aspect of a woman’s vocation. St. Paul notes to Titus, “Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled” (2:3–5). Motherhood is central to the typical woman’s vocation, but there are manifold qualities of virtue and industry also to be exercised.

Let us tear down the university as an idol, while acknowledging that it need not be utterly discarded. Let us restore the central place of vocation to the family so that men and women see their focus and dedication is to love and serve their families, and employment is only one way of doing this. For women, especially, let us free them from their slavery to the masculinity of feminism. Free them from the assumption that they are bound to a paycheck, that they are bound to an occupation from which they must make their living. Instead, let men be men. Let the men of their lives provide for their bodily needs, so that they may be free to rule their households and to love others.

What do I teach my daughters? To cherish and give thanks for this freedom they have as women. That they do not need to worry about where their food or clothing or shelter will come from. As their man, I will always provide for them, as God gives me strength, until they are married. Then their new men, their husbands, will provide for them. Does this mean they will never work outside the home? Probably not, although they could choose to remain in the home as they desire. Yet it means, as God provides daily bread, they will never HAVE to work outside the home. Such work would be a free choice, a way a woman chooses to love and serve others.

I teach them to hope for and look forward to motherhood, for there is no greater earthly blessing than children. I teach them that they have great responsibility in nurturing and raising these children, and that the Lord gives his word and strength that all children would be cared for and saved. I also teach them that, whether they marry or not, it is possible that God will not grant them children. And even in such a case, they still have the vocation to love. I teach them that there are many whom they may love and serve with their gifts, whether the church as a congregation, individuals in the church with various needs, their neighbors in the political realm, or their extended family. There will always be others to love.

So I encourage them to pursue the education that they desire. They all have various interests, whether music, computer programming, art, cooking, or sports. My wife and I teach them these things, and we help them to learn these things. The university is not an idol; they will not attend the university because it will give them a diploma or a higher paying job or a social experience. It is unlikely that they would attend a university away from home, and they will not attend a university away from home without a man whom I trust to serve them in my stead. They will not live in a dorm.

But they are free to study what they want. They are free not to go to college, and they are free to go to college. They are free to pursue whatever education will help them to love others better. And that is the way we talk about education.

Feminism teaches girls to overcome misogyny with masculinity. Feminism actually succumbs to misogyny because it sets forth masculinity as the only way to live a fulfilled life. Restore femininity by raising girls to be feminine. Raise girls to be free.

The Rev. Dr. Gifford Grobien is Assistant Professor of Systematic Theology at Concordia Theological Seminary, Fort Wayne, Indiana.

Book Review: Theology is Eminently Practical

Pless
Pless

Theology is Eminently Practical: Essays in Honor of John T. Pless. Edited by Jacob Corzine and Bryan Wolfmueller. Fort Wayne, Indiana: Lutheran Legacy Press, 2012. Paper; 272 pages. Click here.

These fourteen essays by Concordia Theological Seminary (CTS) alumni pay tribute to the thirtieth anniversary of the ordination of their teacher, John Pless, who is well known to LOGIA readers and those who uphold confessional Lutheranism. The high academic caliber of these essays testifies to the outstanding education offered at Ft. Wayne—a benchmark due not only to the faculty’s academic stature or to library resources, but also to the quality of the students. The essays are somewhat eclectic, but, in general, focus on issues broadly related to apologetics, the use of reason in Christian theology, aspects of the Christian life, the work of Christ, and Christian theology. While these forays are products of young theologians, it does not mean the essays lack weight. Just the opposite: they are meaty, vigorous, wise, and daring. Several of the papers had been developed originally for CTS’s “Luther Seminar,” a group of faculty and students facilitated by Prof. Pless for presentation and discussion on Luther and Lutheran theology.

Originally raised in The American Lutheran Church, Prof. Pless was persuaded to join The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod due to the efforts of Norman Nagel. Prof. Pless was called as the LCMS campus pastor for University of Minnesota for nearly two decades. Naturally he had a concern for apologetics. Since the summer of 2000, he has taught pastoral theology at CTS. He expresses a passionate commitment to law and gospel preaching and ministry and those who support that view, a voice in right-to-life issues, and a critic of liberal trends in American Lutheranism.

To summarize the essays, we start with Peter Brock who makes a case for apologetics among Lutherans. Apologetics encourages faith and helps with evangelism. For instance, it helps counter hostile objections to faith and can offer arguments for the historicity of the resurrection. Even so, it has its limits. As David Scaer notes, faith is grounded finally in history not logic. Even appealing to evidences from science is limited in its apologetic prospects since science produces knowledge that is ever under constant review. Most importantly our audience, as the late Kurt Marquardt noted, is composed of “condemned criminals searching desperately for escape” but who seldom want the gospel to rescue them (27). For Brock, apologetics is best understood as a secular task of the baptized. Following C. S. Lewis, Brock concludes that the “best apologetics in which Christians can engage will be the best secular work such Christians can produce” (29).

Roy Axel Coats offers an interpretation of Johann Georg Hamann’s political theory, showing how Hamann finds autonomy as a basis for government to be inadequate. Hamann’s work is done in conversation with that of the Enlightenment thinker Moses Mendelsohn. Both Mendelsohn and Hamann seek a path to political theory beyond the voluntarism of Hobbes, based on individual’s agreeing to establish a political state, or the essentialist approach of Leibniz, in which government is etched into human nature. What Hamann sees in Mendelsohn, however, is a stance more Hobbesian than what Mendelsohn intends. Mendelsohn’s political theory grounds the basis for society in the individual agent’s will (42). What he ignores, as Hamann points out, is that the basis from which social contracts can be formulated—reason—is mediated through language (43). Mendelsohn’s approach to government is far too simplistic. Ultimately, for Hamann, Jesus Christ is the Word by which all created reality holds together.

Jacob Corzine raises the question: from where have the Reformation “solas” come? He notes that there is no standard list of solas and that there is often a hidden agenda when someone favors one list of solas over another. A thorough list of proposed solas include: sola gratia, sola fide, sola scriptura, solo verbo, solus deus, solus Christus, and (new for me) sola experientia. Corzine shows how contemporary German thinkers such as Jüngel, Beintker, and Beutel situate the solas within preestablished commitments. Interestingly, while sola gratia and sola fide have long histories in the Lutheran tradition, the triad of solas can be traced to the work of Theodore Engelder who, in 1916 advocated three: sola gratia, sola fide, and sola scriptura, the latter a likely confessional Lutheran response to modernism’s rejection of scriptural inerrancy (67).

With pastoral sensitivity, Michael Holmen comments on Romans 1–3, focusing especially on the phrase “let God become true and every man a liar.” Given that people tend to be hypocritically pious (self-justifying), if we are to apprehend Christ our savior and thus justify God in his words, it will only happen by agreeing with God against ourselves (79). Thereby our salvation renders all the glory to God.

Jason Lane takes on the critical supposition claiming that since Luther called James as an “epistle of straw” we are not required to maintain the trustworthiness of the Bible. Lane skillfully points out that Luther only seems to reject James. In fact, he preached on James, affirmed that James shows that faith leads to new impulses and good works (93), and finally interpreted Abraham in his Genesis commentary as an example of the working out of such a Jamesian approach to good works within the life of faith (97).

Benjamin T. G. Mayes points out the weakness of Wolfhart Pannenberg’s doctrine of the atonement that is due primarily to Pannenberg’s Hegelian, panentheistic belief that God will not fully be himself until the ultimate fulfillment of all in the eschaton. Given this philosophical commitment, Pannenberg’s view of the gospel does not square with that of historic Christianity.

Finnish pastor Esko Murto situates prayer within the context of battle—the believer as a battlefield between God and the devil. He notes that for Luther the creation is spiritual, a mask (larva) of God, but given the devil’s contention throughout the world, the masks of God are countered with larva diabolic. Christian prayer must pray against such evil powers (137).

Steven Parks examines Johann Gerhard’s classic Loci Theologici as “pastoral care.” Of course, for some, that is a counterintuitive claim. However, Parks makes it clear that the “greatest of dogmaticians” offers pastoral care especially in his polemics (154). He guards the flock from the wolves of false doctrine.

For Mark A. Pierson, Luther’s view of grace is no more compatible with Thomas Aquinas’s than it is with nominalists such as Duns Scotus, William of Ockham, and Gabriel Biel. Luther’s Against Scholastic Theology is directed as much against Thomas Aquinas as the nominalists (168). In common with the nominalists, Thomas affirms the exercise of free will and cooperation in our pilgrimage toward God. Pierson wants us to understand that for Luther, the problem about reason in our relation to God is not reason per se, but reason under the control of the bound will that wants to take credit for believing in Christ (167).

David R. Preus shows how the Wittenberg theologian Balthasar Meisner (1587–1626), following Luther, was able to show how philosophy can serve theology. “Since one branch of learning operates with a set of principles that is different from another (geometry deals with shapes and sizes, whereas arithmetic involves the study of quantities), the one cannot deprive the other of its unique properties. Likewise, theology, which assumes the grammar of Scripture and teaches salvation and eternal life, may no more rescind the laws of physics than physics may annul the promises of the Bible” (190). Each discipline can honor its unique sphere making a mixture between them unnecessary.

Mark Preus shows that our original righteousness was destroyed by Adam’s sin, and thus no sinful man can propitiate God’s wrath. Christ’s atonement is absolutely necessary if sinners are to be saved and express the truly human vocation of praising our Creator.

David Ramirez presents the phenomenon of evangelical Catholicism as found in recent decades in North America. He highlights a distinction between the Neo-orthodox type found in the Society of the Holy Trinity from that of Concordia Theological Seminary, who appeal to the standards of orthodoxy. Both are to be contrasted to high church liberals found in the ELCA and who support various unscriptural decisions in the ELCA.

Holger Sonntag notes that in opposition to Catholic views of sanctification and antinomian rejection of sanctification, Luther contends that we need to exhort people to good works that constitute Christian love.

In the concluding article, Bryan Wolfmueller accentuates one of Pless’s favorite topics, law and gospel preaching as able to overcome the devil’s hold on the conscience.

The most important book a teacher will ever write is that of his impact on his students’ lives. That alone makes this collection a powerful tribute to John Pless. More importantly, each essay in its own way witnesses to Christ.

Mark Mattes

Grand View University

Des Moines, IA

Fanaticism is Not the Answer

–Prof. John T. Pless

In a very instructive essay of 1965, “The Ecumenical Challenge of the Second Vatican Council,” Hermann Sasse wisely observes: “We have been too much influenced by a certain type of sectarian Christianity which for a long time flourished in America. The sect cannot wait; it must have everything at once, for it has no future. The church can wait, for it does have a future. We Lutherans should think of that.”

I have pondered these lines from Sasse often these last few days, watching and hearing charges and countercharges within the LCMS. The president of The Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod attempted to deal with a difficult and problematic incidence of syncretism. He attempted to address the pastor involved “in the spirit of gentleness” (Galatians 6:1). Admitting that he had mishandled the case, failing in his efforts, and causing additional pain for a community that had already endured much suffering, President Harrison repented and asked for forgiveness (see video here or text version here). Stirred with self-righteous indignation, some launched violent verbal attacks even calling for his “impeachment.” The ex-president of the Synod fanned the flames even more by suggesting in a widely distributed letter that he would be available to stand for election if nominated by February 20.

Zealous defenders of syncretism do so in the name of compassion. Speaking to a situation in his own church body, the ELCA, Steven Paulson’s observation also fits Missouri’s liberal Pharisees: "[T]he ELCA has become enthusiasts, fanatics, who swallow the Holy Spirit, feathers and all. They are not immoralists; instead they are on a quest for a greater holiness than yours—and you ought to be ready, since they are ready to fight you on this particular matter.” Paulson continues “At the root of this fanaticism lies a confusion of law and gospel, and so a demonic lie—that justification is by love—unconditional love.” Fanatics cannot be convinced from the Scriptures. Their righteousness is already established and, make no mistake about it, they are on a crusade, and they cannot wait. They must have the church of pure and unconditional love now and nothing, not even the First Commandment, dare stand in the way.

But the problem does not reside with Missouri’s liberals only. Those of us who rightly recognize how lethal syncretism is to authentic Christian witness can also be lured into fanaticism. There are voices from the right, criticizing President Harrison for not acting decisively or even for having the audacity to repent and apologize. They want a church free of the leaven of syncretism and they want it now. No waiting on the Word to do its work, no imploring the Lord of the church to look down in mercy on this poor, wretched, and miserable band of sinners known as the Missouri Synod. Instead there should be an apocalyptic show down. The church cannot wait. This is a fanaticism to be repented of.

The New Testament bids us be “sober-minded” (1 Tim 3:11; 2 Tim 4:5; 1 Pet 1:13; 1 Pet 4:7). Rather than becoming intoxicated with a fanaticism to the left or the right, we pray the Lord would give us minds of discernment rooted and grounded in the Holy Scriptures that do not overlook or brush aside the real threat of which the Newtown prayer vigil was a symptom of, namely, the pluralism of American civil religion that requires an even more stringent “no” to unionism and syncretism of every stripe. Indeed, it is for the sake of witness in the public square that we will decline to worship there. Fanaticism is never the answer; faithfulness is.

 

Prof. John T. Pless teaches at Concordia Theological Seminary, Fort Wayne, IN.

Faithful before God and Man

The recent storm of controversy over Rev. Robert Morris’ apology for participation in the Newtown, CT worship service reveals several common misunderstandings. If reporters had looked more closely into the events, the letter from Rev. Robert Morris and the letter from Pres. Matthew Harrison both make it very clear that no “censure” or “reprimand” was given, but the apology was freely offered and accepted. Other misunderstandings come from a difficult tension that arises during times of tragedy, such as the shootings in Newtown, CT. Church leaders must struggle to 1) be faithful before God and 2) faithful to those with whom they share a confession. Here's an essay from Werner Elert that reflects on some of these truths below. By way of introduction to this essay from Werner Elert, Prof John T. Pless comments:

"Robert Preus once described Werner Elert (1895–1954) as one of the 'the three most significant confessional Lutheran theologians of our century.' (( see Letters to Lutheran Pastors, Volume I by Hermann Sasse, p xiii)) Like Sasse, Elert was no sectarian but widely engaged in ecumenical conversation. His ecumenical engagement was fueled by his recognition that truth must be confessed and error rejected. In 1927, Elert gave this short essay at a meeting of the World Conference in Lausanne. It was published in Faith and Order: Proceedings of the World Conference, August 3–21, 1927, 1927, edited by H.N. Bate (New York: George H. Doran, 1927), 13–18. There is much in this essay that is still timely nearly 90 years later. Especially note the Erlangen theologian’s accent on the confession of the truth necessitating a rejection of error. Timely, indeed, in light of defenses being offered for the Newtown prayer vigil."

PROFESSOR DR. WERNER ELERT

University of Erlangen (Lutheran)

I

“He that is of the truth heareth my voice," saith the Lord. If we are of the truth we follow where He calls; and He calls us to unity. So following, we are at one in Christ, and—which is the same thing—we are one in the Truth, for Christ called Himself the truth. Conversely, if we are not one in the truth, we are not at one in Christ. Therefore, all who seek for union in Christ must examine themselves whether they are in the truth. Truth indeed is not a thing which we can possess like a book which may be opened or closed at will. We can possess truth only in an act of recognition, which no wilfulness of our own can affect. To recognise truth is to feel its compulsion; and this yielding to the compulsion of truth is faith. Faith is, indeed, more than this: in faith we receive our individual deliverance, the forgiveness of sins. Only in virtue of this faith are we members of the one Holy Catholic Church. But what binds Christians into a oneness that transcends individuality is the objective force of that truth in which we, through faith, come to have a share.

Since faith and truth are so closely linked, whenever truth is obscured faith is imperilled, and with it our membership of the Church of Christ is imperilled also. We must, therefore, allow ourselves no communion with error: truth and error can enter into no concordat. When truth is involved there must be no compromise. The early Councils were right in appending a rejection of error to the positive clauses in which they expressed and acknowledged the truth. Not infrequently, perhaps, they failed to distinguish rightly between the true and the false: still, they did believe in truth, even though they discerned it only in part. They knew that truth is no child of this world: that truth betokens its presence, as Kierkegaard said, by a challenge. There can be no recognition, no confession of truth without a recognition and rejection of error. To say this is not to demand a heresy hunt. We love those who err, as our Lord and Master loved them. But unless we would deny the truth, we must combat their errors.

The task laid upon the Church to discern between the true and the false becomes more complicated as the centuries pass on. History evolves ever new forms of error which seek to disguise themselves in the luminous garb of truth. This is a process which we are unable to reverse, nor can we silently evade the problems which it creates. As soon as they are asked, the questions raised by the subjects of this Conference demand to be answered. It is, therefore, our desire that this Conference, seeking the unity of Christendom, may find it in the truth, and that it may express the truth in plain terms, making no compromise with error.

II

The true cannot be discerned from the false until both are expressed. Wherever the need has been felt to make a common acknowledgment of truth as a basis of unity, it has always been found possible in the Church of Christ to discover terms which gave undisguised expression to that truth. This is the meaning and origin of the Creeds, Confessions and dogmas which are held to be valid, universally or locally, in Christendom. Our convictions, indeed, do not permit us to admit the existence of laws of belief. Councils cannot determine what must be believed: they can only establish what is believed.

I ask leave now to speak from the standpoint of the Church to which I myself belong: believing that the sense in which I declare my adhesion to the idea of this Conference is of cardinal importance.

It is true that the special Confessions of the particular Churches are in one sense divisive. But they did not create the divisions which they express: these already existed. Nor have they been merely divisive. They divide because error always dogs the steps of truth. Yet their primary purpose was not divisive but unitive. The Confessions have always expressed the common convictions of a multitude of individuals. And, further, they have served to hand on the convictions of one generation to its successors, and thus to form not only a link between contemporaries, but also a bond of unity between successive epochs and generations.

We Lutherans have, therefore, followed the activities of the World Conference on Faith and Order with close attention. The members of our Church present here to-day are in sympathy with the general aim and the work of this gathering. We thank God it has been possible to assemble a Council of the Christian Churches in which the problems of belief, doctrine, dogma, are to be taken quite seriously into consideration. We fear, indeed, that the discussions now about to begin will disclose differences of grave import. But we rejoice that the evil of disunion is here to be grasped by the roots. Our chief Confession teaches thus: Ad veram unitatem ecclesia satis est consentire de doctrina evangelii et administratione sacramentorum. Nec necesse est ubique esse similes traditiones humanas seu ritus ab hominibus institutos. We are glad, therefore, to note that the unity of Christians will be sought for in a consensus de doctrina evangelii. For history has shown us that there are spurious modes of unity which offer an illusory oneness in which true Christian unity, unity in the truth, is not found. We come, therefore, not as individuals, but as a great and world-wide community with centuries of history behind it. Indeed, we own our oneness with all those who in any age have confessed the Christian faith as we profess it. And thus our second desire for this Conference is, that the great unity towards which it strives may not destroy existing unities, but may rather, like a mother, gather within one home the mature and independent children of the house.

III

We believe that such a respect for existing unities does not imply the enduring perpetuation of confessional division. As far as our Church is concerned, this would only be a real danger if our Reformers in the sixteenth century had purposed to found a new Church and to cut themselves off from the Church Catholic. It was not so. Our chief Confession lays stress upon our agreement with the Church of antiquity, and it was thus that our theologians in the seventeenth century persisted in claiming membership of the true Catholic Church. The man who joins in the affirmations of the confession of our Church must have the will to be a Catholic Christian. Desiring, moreover, as we do, to find ourselves in agreement with the sound faith of the Church in all centuries, we give our assent to the development which history has brought. With all Christians we believe that Holy Scripture has Divine authority, as the document and evidence of the historical revelation of God. But we are convinced that it is impossible to reproduce the conditions and order of primitive Christianity as the Bible reflects them. It is for this reason that the leaders of the Lutheran Reformation would not consent to destroy the existing fabric of the Church, or to set in its place a structure framed on the pattern of the primitive Church. They knew that to do so would be Utopian. Therefore, while determined to do away with usages and teachings which seemed to them to stand in contradiction with the Gospels, they pursued a conservative policy wherever no such aberrations were concerned. And thus they were able to link themselves on to the dogma of the mediæval Church at all points where they observed no contradiction with the Gospels: they took over many liturgical forms; they translated the hymns of the mediæval Church into their own language; and they preserved much of the episcopal constitution of the Church.

It is upon this assent to the facts of historical development that the great tolerance of our Church in outward and temporal things is based. We tolerate much variety of constitution and rite; and we yield to each other mutual recognition as equal members of the orthodox Christian Church, because we agree in one and the same confession of belief.

Our third desire for this Conference is, therefore, this: that varieties in constitution and rite may form no hindrance to that affirmation of unity in the truth, which it is our desire to achieve, and we feel in particular that all those forms which give external expression to our unbroken relationship with the ancient Church have a special claim upon our sympathy.

Patres reverendissimi! Fratres carissimi! The call of unity has been sounded. We have heard it and count ourselves bound in duty to obey. I have attempted to tell you what it is in this call that specially moves us, and have spoken from the standpoint of the Lutheran Church. I have done so because I believe that no one can abandon the standpoint of his own Church without losing his relation­ship to the Church of Christ in general. But we also believe that the best contribution we can bring to the deliberations of this Conference consists in the truths and the experiences which we have gathered in the Church which is our home. The great inheritance handed down to us by the fathers of our Church includes the will to Catholicity; and I trust that this will to Catholicity has made itself plain to you all in the words that I have spoken.

There are two responsibilities of which we are gravely conscious—our responsibility before God, and our responsibility before those whose faith we share. We, therefore, ask the help of the Holy Spirit that the great hour of this Conference may find us not narrow-hearted, not contentious, not self-assertive, not faithless or of little faith, but broad-minded, peaceable, conscious of high responsibility, filled with faith and with the wisdom of God.

 

UPDATE: For an update on the situation from all the involved parties, please click here.

A Lament from the Ruins

Prof. Pless preached this sermon at the LCMS Life Conference on January 23, 2013.

Text: Job 30:16–24

This evening’s text from the Book of Job puts us with Job in the midst of the ruins, teaching us how to lament—that is, how to cry out to God. In a day when worship is judged effective and meaningful if it is upbeat, inspirational, celebratory, and positive, there is not much room for lament.  It is far too negative, too depressing to meet our refined taste for liturgies that are affirming, creative, and exciting. But where the church lacks the capacity for lament, a fragile human optimism replaces the hope which does not disappoint and the praise of God becomes shallow and empty. In fact, we may even praise ourselves under the guise of adoring God.

We stand with Job tonight who knows God’s judgment and wrath cannot be evaporated by wishing them away. We stand with Job, tossed about by a God who plays rough with his children to paraphrase Luther. We stand with Job who does not explain away the hidden work of God—his inscrutable ways which as Luther said often appear as those of a mad axe man let loose in the forest, chopping and hacking way. We stand with Job, slimy and muddy in the mire of our sin, ourselves like him “dust and ashes” and bound for death.  We grieve over a wrecked society where the murder of children is considered a fundamental human right and the elimination of the injured or aged is thought to be an act of compassion.  We stand with Job, whose complaint is not merely about faceless forces or evil, a decadent culture, a cancerous secularism, or corrupted enemies; His complaint is directed to the Almighty God who, he says, “has turned cruel to me.” We stand with Job who is not asking for an answer to the riddle of evil but for the Lord’s salvation.

Hence Job’s lament: “Yet does not one in a heap of ruins stretch out his hand, and in disaster cry for help?”  We know, of course, something about life in the middle of devastation.  The ruins among which we live, move, and have our being is not a bombed out Dresden of crumbling, charred buildings but of a land where death is regularly administered under the most clinical of conditions.  In fact, the ruins are hailed as monuments of enlightened progressiveness. We may indeed reflect on how we have come to such a time as this where the weakest of our neighbors are the most endangered. We may look for reasons for the shifts in morality and the denial of truths once held to be self-evident. We might well look at strategies to recover and restore the recognition of the inherent value of human life and God-given dignity.  We may seek venues for teaching and advocacy. This is all well and good. But tonight we are not here for that. Tonight we are here to stand with Job, with outstretched hands praying in the midst of a disaster.

Our prayer, like that of Job, is nothing other than a lament. It is a protracted “Kyrie, Elesion!” It is a plea for God’s own mercy; his compassion. Lament might be described as prayer in those times when God leaves “the wound open” to use the words of Oswald Bayer. It is not a self-directed whine, but a prayer addressed to God himself.  Job’s lament is not the whimper of one who sees himself victimized by society or circumstances, but one who has a God-sized problem. Listen again to his lament: “God has casted me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes. . . .You [that is, God] have turned cruel to me; with the might of your hand you persecute me. You lift me up on the wind, you make me ride on it, and you toss me about in the roar of the storm. For I know that you will bring me to death and to the house appointed for all the living.”  Job’s lament is directed to God who is his judge, his critic, who stands by, gazing on his shame but does not act, at least not yet.

Like Job, we lament before the God who leaves the wound open. We lament before the God who certainly has the power to bring an end to all that contradicts his will. We lament before a God who has the power to put down the mighty from their thrones, close abortion clinics, and reverse the hearts and minds of those who institutionalize evil. God instead leaves the wound open.

In the fullness of time, Job’s lament was answered. The redeemer whom Job confessed that he would see in his own flesh and with his own eyes has come into this ruined world where we live.  The Book of Hebrews tells us that this Jesus, God’s own Son, was given to lament: “In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears to him who was able to save him from death” (Heb 5:7).  This Jesus is the Word of God come in our flesh to bear our sin and be our Savior. He is God’s own answer of grace and truth, of life and salvation, through the forgiveness of sins to God’s wrath revealed from heaven against all unrighteousness. Jesus’ wounds—his side split open by a Roman spear and his nailed-pierced hands and feet—are forever the foundation of our confidence to live in a world where God leaves the wound open.

In that confidence we live and work, repenting of frustration and weak resignation. Bringing our exhaustion, unbelief, and fatigue to his cross, we have his promise: “Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt 11:28).  Resting in the wounds of this Jesus and alive in the hope that his resurrection guarantees, we stand in the midst of the ruins calling upon the Lord in this troublesome day, knowing that he will hear and he will hear and that our lament will be answered “for the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will be our shepherd and he will guide us to the springs of living waters, and God will wipe away every tear from our eyes” (cf Rev 7:17).

The peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus to life everlasting. Amen.

 

Prof. John T. Pless teaches at Concordia Theological Seminary, Fort Wayne, Indiana.