Hindenberg Is Our God?

The Lutheran Witness, April 16, 1918, p. 158, reported the following event in light of persecutions which came upon Lutherans who were still speaking (and singing) in German:

In a southern Illinois town a pastor’s beard was painted yellow because he supposedly had led his congregation in a song which elevated Germany’s General von Hindenburg to the status of a god. Actually, the congregation had sung Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott, not Ein Hindenburg ist unser Gott.

The Strict Lutherans

In his 1857 work, Lutheranism in America, W. J. Mann describes as “strict” those who were known as the Old Lutherans. While he notes that he does not approve of everything in which Walther and Grabau espouse, yet he speaks somewhat admiringly of them as we see in the following:

In doctrinal views, these brethren stand on the Confession of that faith which is contained in the Symbolical Books of the Lutheran Church, as far as they are comprehended as a whole, the several parts of which are explanatory and supplementary to each other. They regard the dogmatical system of Christianity, as contained in these books, as being the true interpretation of the Sacred Scriptures. They do not esteem these writings because they emanated from Luther or from some of the other Fathers of the Lutheran Church or because they had once obtained authority in the Lutheran Church or are of importance in connection with its history, but because they cherish the conviction that a better and more correct comprehension of the principal doctrines of the sacred Scriptures has never been produced, nor can be.

They regard a Confession of Faith of absolute necessity to the Church for the Bible is equally in the hands of the Catholic, the Baptist, the Unitarian, and the Quaker. But they read it, each one with his own eyes. Each finds his own peculiar tenets in it. A Church destitute of a fixed interpretation of the sacred Scriptures which she regards as the true one and adopts as her own would be nothing but a confused mass of dogmatical and religious views of mere individuals.

. . . It is a well-known fact that during the last century, in Germany, the decline of the authority of the Symbolical Books of the Lutheran Church, and the rise of rationalistic tendency were simultaneous. At present, we find that in the same country, respect for the Symbolical Books is returning — and with it faith and piety.

Symbols are nothing else than what the original meaning of this word of Greek derivation signifies, namely, a compilation of the principal doctrines of the Creed; they either pronounce the true orthodox Faith, like, as for instance, the Apostles’ Creed, or they give a clear explanation of it, in accordance with the sacred Scriptures, refuting and rejecting the views of heretics, whenever they teach doctrines at variance with the Word of God. This is done with peculiar skill especially by the larger among the writings of the Symbolical Books.

It is easy to perceive what an anomaly it would be to call any modern religious society the Lutheran Church, except it, at the same time, regards that as the Confession of its Faith, which was regarded as such by the Lutheran Church from the beginning. The Lutheran Church certainly holds many doctrines in common with other denominations. But this by no means constitutes her the Lutheran Church; just as little as, on the other hand, a Unitarian can be called a Lutheran, because his ancestors may at one time have been Lutherans.

Byzantine-Rite Calvinist

I had heard of a Byzantine-Rite Catholic . . . but a Byzantine-Rite Calvinist? Does that qualify as an oxymoron?

The blogger, also an author, writes in one post labeled "Christian Democracy in America, Revisited" . . .

In an earlier post I wondered whether the publication of Lew Daly's "Compassion Capital" might represent the mainstreaming of the neocalvinist and neothomist movements in North America. If so, it will likely be a mixed blessing at best, as any account of a religious perspective native to another continent and culture is certain to be riddled with half truths at best and outright errors at worst.

And this from a blog entitled "Notes from a Byzantine-Rite Calvinist"? Still, you may find this blog as politically provocative as its title.

Our Father in Heaven

Martin Luther has given us several different ways to take the Lord’s Prayer to heart, including the Large and Small Catechisms as well as his booklet for Master Peter the Barber on A Simple Way to Pray. Here is one more example how Luther sought to bring an understanding of the Lord’s Prayer to the people as he used it in the Divine Service as found in his German Mass translated in the American edition of his works, vol. 53, p. 78.

After the sermon shall follow a public paraphrase of the Lord’s Prayer and admonition for those who want to partake of the sacrament, in this or a better fashion:

Friends in Christ: Since we are here assembled in the name of the Lord to receive his Holy Testament, I admonish you first of all to lift up your hearts to God to pray with me the Lord’s Prayer, as Christ our Lord has taught us and graciously promised to hear us.

That God, our Father in heaven, may look with mercy on us, his needy children on earth, and grant us grace so that his holy name be hallowed by us and all the world through the pure and true teaching of his Word and the fervent love of our lives; that he would graciously turn from us all false doctrine and evil living whereby his precious name is being blasphemed and profaned.

That his kingdom may come to us and expand; that all transgressors and they who are blinded and bound in the devil’s kingdom be brought to know Jesus Christ his Son by faith, and that the number of Christians may be increased.

That we may be strengthened by his Spirit to do and to suffer his will, both in life and in death, in good and in evil things, and always to break, slay, and sacrifice our own wills. That he would also give us our daily bread, preserve us from greed and selfish cares, and help us to trust that he will provide for all our needs.

That he would forgive our debts as we forgive our debtors so that our hearts may rest and rejoice in a good conscience before him, and that no sin may ever fright or alarm us.

That he would not lead us into temptation but help us by his Spirit to subdue the flesh, to despise the world and its ways, and to overcome the devil with all his wiles.

And lastly, that he would deliver us from all evil, both of body and soul, now and forever.

All those who earnestly desire these things will say from their very hearts: Amen, trusting without any doubt that it is Yea and answered in heaven as Christ has promised: Whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you shall receive it, and you will [Mark 11:24]. Amen.

Secondly, I admonish you in Christ that you discern the Testament of Christ in true faith and, above all, take to heart the words wherein Christ imparts to us his body and his blood for the remission of our sins. That you remember and give thanks for his boundless love which he proved to us when he redeemed us from God’s wrath, sin, death, and hell by his own blood. And that in this faith you externally receive the bread and wine, i.e., his body and his blood, as the pledge and guarantee of this. In his name therefore, and according to the command that he gave, let us use and receive the Testament.

Whether such paraphrase and admonition should be read in the pulpit immediately after the sermon or at the altar, I would leave to everyone’s judgment. It seems that the ancients did so in the pulpit, so that it is still the custom to read general prayers or to repeat the Lord’s Prayer in the pulpit. But the admonition itself has since become a public confession. In this way, however, the Lord’s Prayer together with a short exposition would be current among the people, and the Lord would be remembered, even as he commanded at the Supper.

I would, however, like to ask that this paraphrase or admonition follow a prescribed wording or be formulated in a definite manner for the sake of the common people. We cannot have one do it one way today, and another, another way tomorrow, and let everybody parade his talents and confuse the people so that they can neither learn nor retain anything. What chiefly matters is the teaching and guiding of the people. That is why here we must limit our freedom and keep to one form of paraphrase or admonition, particularly in a given church or congregation — if for the sake of freedom it does not wish to use another.

Making Repentance Fun

Tom Raabe’s satire hits close to home in his book, The Ultimate Church: An Irreverent Look at Church Growth, MegaChurches, & Ecclesiastical “Show-Biz”(Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing House, 1991. These little vignettes are as entertaining as they are exposing and are well worth squeezing into your already over-crowded bookshelf. The following appears on pages 29-32.

It’s finally happening. After all those years of dreary, vapid, monotonous church services, at long last we’re finally putting some life into our worship. No longer are we slaves to a prescribed liturgy week in and week out, but now worship is celebration, a gala event replete with chancel drama, liturgical dance, dialogue sermons, and anything that’s new, exciting, meaningful, and relevant. Neither are we bound to a traditional hymnal anymore, as guitars and synthesizers offer commonplace accompaniment to contemporary praise music.

Everybody has a children’s sermon these days. The passing of the Peace is de rigueur in most churches, with the more liberated ones opting for a kiss of Peace in its stead. Worshipers feel no compunction whatever against whooping it up when the spirit (small "s") moves them during a service. People clap in church as if they were at a ball-game. Pastors deliver multimedia homilies; they roam the sanctuary as they preach; they offer monologue sermons, discussion sermons, audience-participation sermons. And parishioners dance in the aisles, break into small groups, and voice their liberation from the pews.

Yes, it took a couple hundred years, but finally the scales have fallen from our eyes, and we can see that the conclaves in the big rooms with the funny benches and funny windows that we go to every Sunday are not atrabilious exercises in somber redundancy anymore. They are alive happenings now, “with it” celebrations where anything goes. Worship these days has finally come around to being what worship always should have been — fun!

However, there remains one area of worship where the shackles of tradition have yet to be unloosed — one integral part of the service still untouched by the revolution.

I speak of repentance — the confession of sins.

Oh, those indefatigable, guilt-inducing words — how ponderously they lay on our lips: “I, a poor; miserable sinner; confess. . . all my sins and iniquities. . . offended Thee . . . justly deserve temporal and eternal punishment . . . heartily sorry for them . . . sincerely repent of them It’s enough to get a guy depressed, these doleful, heavy-hearted phrases, underscoring all sorts of sordid, unpopular; theological concepts.

And the people, quite understandably, are not enamored with this type of material. Consider the ordeal we subject them to, dragging out their dirty souls for inventory every week and finding — without fail — that they do not meet the supernal requirements. All that groveling, all that mental and emotional prostration — let’s face facts, people do not get into that scene. No wonder they aren’t coming to church.

It’s a pity we can’t simply write the whole business out of the Service — just forget about it and get on with being happy. But, alas, we are Christians. The Bible does have a few words to say about repentance and forgiveness, so we have to keep some of this stuff in. But nobody said we had to make it so depressing.

The solution to this problem is simple: We must make repentance fun. If our theology prescribes that we do this confession thing, we might as well make it something that people can get into.

However; changing minds in this area is difficult — so high have the walls of resistance been built. Bringing a congregation into the fresh rays of new meaning is bound to be a tough sell. But it can be done.

A variety of innovative methods can be used, including the passing of mirrors down the pews, followed by spoken confession, or the artistic rendering of individual transgressions via canvas and oils, finger paints, or even crayons. Such methods are far superior to the incantatory droning from pastor and people currently used in most faith communities.

However, lest the penitential environment grow too cumbrous during any of these Soul-searching activities — and this incidentally represents a real concern, because we all know the kind of guilt trip repentance can lay on a person — the pastor would be well-advised to bring perspective back into the proceedings. My recommendation is to apply great quantities of happy-face stickers to the kneelers as constant reminders to worshipers that repentance is not some lugubrious hand-wringing exercise of blame, but that, an contraire, it is fun.

Perhaps the most effective means of rendering repentance enjoyable, however; is the role-playing sermonic drama. Here’s how it works:

At a foreordained point in the sermon, the pastor; pausing to espy a forewarned parishioner reading his bulletin in an ostentatious manner, points toward the play-acting miscreant and reprimands him from the pulpit: “Byron Beanface! You’re not listening to my sermon!” The congregation will likely gasp in outrage, and the inattentive parishioner raises his back in feigned anger.

A parishioner from the other side of the sanctuary, again a willing player in the drama, then yells, “None of you people over there are listening. You’re all lousy Christians!” to which a retort such as “Oh yeah? At least we have our eyes open during the sermon” is issued from the first side. That comment is followed by something like “We close our eyes because it helps us to listen better,” from the second side, which is answered by, “Then why do you have them open during the prayers?” from the first side, which in turn draws a response of “How do you know we have our eyes open during the prayers unless your eyes. are open, too?” from the second side, and so on, back and forth.

The pastor, for his part, need do nothing more to stoke the fires of acrimony than lean over the front of the pulpit, point randomly at individual parishioners, and scream, “You whited sepulcher!” “You stinking hypocrite!” “You lousy, smelly sinner!” and such like, over and over again.

If handled properly, the scenario can easily escalate into a vigorous, Comminatory shouting match, with participants from both sides of the sanctuary rising to their feet to castigate, en masse, those of the other side. When the anger has reached an acceptable level, the creative pastor then descends from the pulpit in the irenic splendor of a circus clown suit, into which he has furtively changed while in the pulpit, and juggles a few Bibles. This readies the group for the Absolution. And what of this necessary part of the service? Must it whither into obsolescence through the usui staid pronouncement of forgiveness? Not if the pastor is smart and creative.

The Absolution must be made fun, too.

Difficult though it is within the constructs of some liturgies, Absolution can be rendered in an effective and meaningful manner. One soul-releasing moment shines brightly in my memory. During a service once, the fellow sitting next to me fell victim to intense feelings of guilt. The Absolution had been pronounced, yet he sat moping in the pew, head bowed, shaking from side to side. He represented a disgusting reminder of the power of false guilt. So, at the pastor’s direction, a group of parishioners descended upon him, picked him up, and to a spontaneous ovation carried him on their shoulders once around the congregation in a sort of victory lap for forgiveness, after which they deposited him in a nearby locker-room shower, turning on the water and cleansing him ritually. It was a beautiful moment.

Sure, it wasn’t all that much fun for the guy — he had a five-hundred-dollar suit on — but it imbued the ritual with meaning and brought home the significance of the Absolution in a very real way to the congregation as a whole. Be it Confession or Absolution, repentance or forgiveness, when we can render these abstractions palpable and active-in short, fun-then we know that we’ve done our job.

Send them away happy. They will come back.