Friday, June 26, 2009
New church home at last
Finally transferring my membership to a different church, as soon as my previous church provides some required paperwork. A church that sticks to the historic liturgy (still TLH!), actually believes what our confessions say, and attempts to practice those beliefs as described--which of course places it squarely outside the LCMS mainstream, especially in this Ablaze!® city.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Looking for an authentic Lutheran church?
Sometimes I find that I'm going to be out of town on a Sunday, and when possible, I like to find a good Lutheran church to attend. These days it seems like "good" is the hard part. To help with this, I have devised a test that I now apply to church web sites.
Of course it's not foolproof, and a person seriously looking for a church home should dig deeper. Especially, a church should not be ruled out simply for failing this test.
I call it the SAILO test, which stands for Surprisingly Accurate Indicators of Lutheran Orthodoxy. There are two indicators--two things to look for on a church's web site:
Of course it's not foolproof, and a person seriously looking for a church home should dig deeper. Especially, a church should not be ruled out simply for failing this test.
I call it the SAILO test, which stands for Surprisingly Accurate Indicators of Lutheran Orthodoxy. There are two indicators--two things to look for on a church's web site:
- A link to Higher Things, OR
- A mention of private confession "by appointment" or at a specific regularly scheduled time.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
"Awesome God" Reexamined
This has been bugging me for a while...and by "a while" I mean four years--literally since I first became a Lutheran. I just never bothered bringing it up to anyone because I figured it wasn't one of life's great problems.
I still don't think it's one of life's great problems, but for some reason I feel like bringing it up now. :o)
For some reason, Lutherans love to pick on the song "Awesome God." I have a few guesses about why, and some of them I even agree with. And yet I wonder how many people who criticize this song even know the lyrics, or have any idea how it is sung. I happen to believe that we are doing ourselves a disservice--in fact, making ourselves look downright foolish and ignorant--by holding up this of all songs as an example of bad worship practice.
Before we examine this song, I would like to make some observations about contemporary worship. Our objection to contemporary worship is not a stylistic, but theological. So let's take a look at the theological issues surrounding contemporary worship.
All contemporary worship, whether its participants acknowledge this fact or not, is based on a Pentecostal doctrinal framework in which praise and worship are the means by which God's Shekinah Glory is brought into the church. It is said that the Holy Spirit moves through this praise and worship, to prepare us for serving God. The theology is thoroughly synergistic, and the structure normally seen carries a strong Pelagian tone; and this is why all Lutherans must reject it.
Liturgical worship, on the other hand, is based on the traditional Christian framework in which we are dead in our sins, and the Word of God is spoken over us bringing us back to life in fulfillment of Ezekiel 37:1-14. Everything the congregation does in liturgical worship is a response to the Word. Starting with the processional cross carried up the center aisle, continuing with call to repentance at the start of the service, through every step down to the benediction and closing hymn, the congregation is responding to the Law and the Gospel.
So now that we've covered matters of theology and how it is reflected in the content and structure of our worship, I present to you "Awesome God." Lay aside your reactions to the song's informal and colloquial style, examine it honestly, then you tell me which type of worship this song is most at home in, theologically. Please note the fact that this song is sung responsively (the congregation's part is in italics).
Oh, when He rolls up His sleeves
He ain't just puttin' on the Ritz
Our God is an awesome GodThere's thunder in His footsteps
And the Lord, He wasn't jokin'
And lightning in His fists
Our God is an awesome God
When He kicked 'em out of Eden
It wasn't for no reason
That He shed His blood
His return is very close
And so you better be believin' that
Our God is an awesome GodOur God is an awesome God
And when the sky was starless
He reigns from Heaven above
With wisdom, pow'r and love
Our God is an awesome God
In the void of the night
Our God is an awesome GodHe spoke into the darkness
The judgment and the wrath
And created the light
Our God is an awesome God
He poured out on Sodom
The mercy and grace
He gave us at the cross
I hope that we have not
Too quickly forgotten that
Our God is an awesome GodOur God is an awesome God
He reigns from Heaven above
With wisdom, pow'r and love
Our God is an awesome God
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
*Sigh*
Those who have read some of my earlier posts knew that I've been moderately dissatisfied with my church. I've now made an absolute decision to leave. I know of at least two, possibly three other churches that would be probably be better options for us at this point.
My daughter has been in confirmation class since September. Two things came to my attention that she had been taught recently, which have destroyed my confidence in the instruction she is receiving:
First, she was taught that the manna given to the Israelites is for us a moral object lesson, to teach us to rely on God and not demand more than He gives us. Now I do believe that the events of the Old Testament are rich in meaning and that it is often a mistake to teach one to the exclusion of others. However, manna is a type of the Eucharist. Duh. How could they omit that?!
I was already feeling uncomfortable about this, then this evening I found out she'd been taught that the entire church building is the sanctuary, and that "sanctuary" means place of refuge. In this context, that is simply not true, and this teaching diminishes the Sacrament. "Sanctuary" comes from the Latin "sanctuarium" and it means "holy place." The most obvious related word is "sanctified." The terminology comes directly from the Holy of Holies in the Jewish temple, and it refers to the focal point of the nave, where the altar is located. In most churches this is the highest part of the platform at the front of the nave.
The idea of a "place of refuge" comes from an old tradition where priests would hide fugitives behind the screen (eastern rite?) to protect them from capture; any connection between this and the sanctuary's actual purpose is at least secondary, and perhaps entirely coincidental.
Now I don't expect everyone to be familiar with all these facts; but if they aren't going to provide the details, then they need to be silent and certainly not give false information. This stuff actually matters, because identifying the location of the altar as the sanctuary means something. It's where Jesus is. That's what the Eucharist is all about. My church does believe that...don't they?
Someone tell me: Am I overreacting here?
My daughter has been in confirmation class since September. Two things came to my attention that she had been taught recently, which have destroyed my confidence in the instruction she is receiving:
First, she was taught that the manna given to the Israelites is for us a moral object lesson, to teach us to rely on God and not demand more than He gives us. Now I do believe that the events of the Old Testament are rich in meaning and that it is often a mistake to teach one to the exclusion of others. However, manna is a type of the Eucharist. Duh. How could they omit that?!
I was already feeling uncomfortable about this, then this evening I found out she'd been taught that the entire church building is the sanctuary, and that "sanctuary" means place of refuge. In this context, that is simply not true, and this teaching diminishes the Sacrament. "Sanctuary" comes from the Latin "sanctuarium" and it means "holy place." The most obvious related word is "sanctified." The terminology comes directly from the Holy of Holies in the Jewish temple, and it refers to the focal point of the nave, where the altar is located. In most churches this is the highest part of the platform at the front of the nave.
The idea of a "place of refuge" comes from an old tradition where priests would hide fugitives behind the screen (eastern rite?) to protect them from capture; any connection between this and the sanctuary's actual purpose is at least secondary, and perhaps entirely coincidental.
Now I don't expect everyone to be familiar with all these facts; but if they aren't going to provide the details, then they need to be silent and certainly not give false information. This stuff actually matters, because identifying the location of the altar as the sanctuary means something. It's where Jesus is. That's what the Eucharist is all about. My church does believe that...don't they?
Someone tell me: Am I overreacting here?
Sunday, April 19, 2009
The Sacrament of the Altar
NOTE: This was originally posted as a note on my Facebook account. I am posting it here because if anyone is still reading this blog, they might find it interesting.
A friend of mine recently posted on Facebook a quote from the movie Donnie Darko, saying that every living creature dies alone.
Well, I have never seen the movie; but the quote, taken completely out of context, inspired this note. Especially, it got me to thinking about the question, must any Christian die alone?
Many Christians would automatically say, without a second thought, that of course we don't die alone: After all, we have Jesus. I absolutely agree with this, but it does seem like some questions could be raised here.
If there is any truth in the statement that every living creature dies alone, it is found in the fact that even if you are surrounded by loved ones, they are not going with you. It is your own journey.
Likewise, there may be people on the other side waiting to welcome you, but they are also not making the journey with you. You pass through death alone to meet them.
A question I don't recall ever hearing asked is, how is Jesus different? Obviously, being God is kind of a big deal, but that fact doesn't really answer the question. Jesus is still a man just as He was when He walked on the earth. (If you don't agree with this, then you and I have deep theological differences that won't be resolved in a Facebook note.) So if He is a man, and He's not standing right here in the flesh, experiencing your death with you as you die, aren't you still dying alone?
The pronouncements made in scripture about our relationship with Jesus are fairly astounding when you stop and think about it. One might even say they're a bit "out there." Isaiah 53:4-6 says:
The question many people fail to ask is how this is possible. I don't mean to suggest that we could ever understand this to its fullest extent; but surely we need to define how these promises are applied to you and to me.
If we don't identify the means by which the promises are received, one of two things is likely to happen: Either doubt will linger because there is no way to verify that any particular one of us receives the promises; or else we will skirt the problem by looking at salvation as a metaphor, denying its real, physical and incarnational power.
The idea of such means of grace seems to be taken for granted throughout the New Testament. We see it in Paul's letters where he frequently speaks of how salvation was brought to people through the words he preached. We see it in how the apostles, especially Peter, write of Baptism's saving power. But perhaps the most vivid of all are Jesus' own words in John 6:30-58. I will leave it to the reader to look this up, but I will include this quote starting at verse 56:
Now I will draw the reader's attention to another passage of scripture, that being 2 Corinthians 4:6-10:
I will preface my remarks here by pointing out that this passage is not about the Lord's Supper. It would be a mistake to treat the text as if it were addressing that issue directly. But what is striking here are the assumptions Paul is making about the nature of our relationship with Jesus.
He says that we are carrying in our bodies the death and life of Jesus. In our bodies! He could have said in our spirits, or in our hearts; but he says in our actual bodies.
What Paul describes here certainly appears to be, at least in one sense, a fulfillment of the passage in Isaiah where we are told that the Messiah has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. And Paul's words assume a means of grace: that we are carrying Jesus within our very bodies.
To me, passages such as this lend overwhelming weight to the belief that when we receive the Lord's Supper, we are actually receiving Jesus Himself. There is a great mystery at work here, for there is truth in the old saying that you are what you eat. If we, to use Jesus' own words, eat Him, just what is going on here? Jesus is immortal; if we receive Him into our bodies, He remains a living person.
It is an ancient tradition of the Church that in the Lord's Supper, the entire miracle of the Incarnation is made present. This includes Jesus birth, death, resurrection, and all other aspects of His human experience. And so the same Jesus who is crucified for us, becomes a part of our own bodies.
As we are united with Him in His death, so He is also united with us. (He said, "He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.") No longer is bearing our griefs or carrying our sorrows a metaphor or a spiritual concept; our crucified Savior actually lives inside us, in the flesh, experiencing with us every grief and sorrow we face.
And greatest of all, because Jesus' body and mine are united, when I die I will not be alone. God Himself will be with me, carrying me through that death which He already faced on my behalf.
A friend of mine recently posted on Facebook a quote from the movie Donnie Darko, saying that every living creature dies alone.
Well, I have never seen the movie; but the quote, taken completely out of context, inspired this note. Especially, it got me to thinking about the question, must any Christian die alone?
Many Christians would automatically say, without a second thought, that of course we don't die alone: After all, we have Jesus. I absolutely agree with this, but it does seem like some questions could be raised here.
If there is any truth in the statement that every living creature dies alone, it is found in the fact that even if you are surrounded by loved ones, they are not going with you. It is your own journey.
Likewise, there may be people on the other side waiting to welcome you, but they are also not making the journey with you. You pass through death alone to meet them.
A question I don't recall ever hearing asked is, how is Jesus different? Obviously, being God is kind of a big deal, but that fact doesn't really answer the question. Jesus is still a man just as He was when He walked on the earth. (If you don't agree with this, then you and I have deep theological differences that won't be resolved in a Facebook note.) So if He is a man, and He's not standing right here in the flesh, experiencing your death with you as you die, aren't you still dying alone?
The pronouncements made in scripture about our relationship with Jesus are fairly astounding when you stop and think about it. One might even say they're a bit "out there." Isaiah 53:4-6 says:
Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions,
he was bruised for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that made us whole,
and with his stripes we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned every one to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.
The question many people fail to ask is how this is possible. I don't mean to suggest that we could ever understand this to its fullest extent; but surely we need to define how these promises are applied to you and to me.
If we don't identify the means by which the promises are received, one of two things is likely to happen: Either doubt will linger because there is no way to verify that any particular one of us receives the promises; or else we will skirt the problem by looking at salvation as a metaphor, denying its real, physical and incarnational power.
The idea of such means of grace seems to be taken for granted throughout the New Testament. We see it in Paul's letters where he frequently speaks of how salvation was brought to people through the words he preached. We see it in how the apostles, especially Peter, write of Baptism's saving power. But perhaps the most vivid of all are Jesus' own words in John 6:30-58. I will leave it to the reader to look this up, but I will include this quote starting at verse 56:
He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so he who eats me will live because of me. This is the bread which came down from heaven, not such as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live for ever."
Now I will draw the reader's attention to another passage of scripture, that being 2 Corinthians 4:6-10:
For it is the God who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.
But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, to show that the transcendent power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.
I will preface my remarks here by pointing out that this passage is not about the Lord's Supper. It would be a mistake to treat the text as if it were addressing that issue directly. But what is striking here are the assumptions Paul is making about the nature of our relationship with Jesus.
He says that we are carrying in our bodies the death and life of Jesus. In our bodies! He could have said in our spirits, or in our hearts; but he says in our actual bodies.
What Paul describes here certainly appears to be, at least in one sense, a fulfillment of the passage in Isaiah where we are told that the Messiah has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. And Paul's words assume a means of grace: that we are carrying Jesus within our very bodies.
To me, passages such as this lend overwhelming weight to the belief that when we receive the Lord's Supper, we are actually receiving Jesus Himself. There is a great mystery at work here, for there is truth in the old saying that you are what you eat. If we, to use Jesus' own words, eat Him, just what is going on here? Jesus is immortal; if we receive Him into our bodies, He remains a living person.
It is an ancient tradition of the Church that in the Lord's Supper, the entire miracle of the Incarnation is made present. This includes Jesus birth, death, resurrection, and all other aspects of His human experience. And so the same Jesus who is crucified for us, becomes a part of our own bodies.
As we are united with Him in His death, so He is also united with us. (He said, "He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.") No longer is bearing our griefs or carrying our sorrows a metaphor or a spiritual concept; our crucified Savior actually lives inside us, in the flesh, experiencing with us every grief and sorrow we face.
And greatest of all, because Jesus' body and mine are united, when I die I will not be alone. God Himself will be with me, carrying me through that death which He already faced on my behalf.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
No Line On The Horizon
U2's new CD is more explicitly Christian than a lot of sermons we hear nowadays.
'nuff said.
http://www.atu2.com/lyrics/lyrics.src?VID=167&SID=876
'nuff said.
http://www.atu2.com/lyrics/lyrics.src?VID=167&SID=876
Further Reflections on BJS
Sometimes I wish I hadn't posted something--or at least not in the manner I did. Much of my last post, or maybe all of it, should perhaps have been in an email to the BJS people. On the other hand, maybe it will reach readers from BJS who would never have seen such an email, and so it could be a good thing anyway.
On further reflection, and especially after receiving a kind email about the matter, I must say that I actually understand a little of the position BJS is in. I served for a few years as an admin on a site (with a *far* less important theme) where one aim was to provide a safe haven for people tired of toxic web forums. Maintaining a healthy, constructive atmosphere took an extraordinary amount of behind-the-scenes work; for several of us it became a full-blown part-time job.
After a few years I was burnt out and had to quit, and was heartbroken to see the culture I'd worked so hard to develop come unraveled. No, I wasn't anyone special, and there are others who could have kept it going if they'd been in the right place; but developing and maintaining a good forum culture takes a kind of dedication and understanding that few people ever really get a handle on.
So brothers, I do get it. Really! Been there, done that.
On further reflection, and especially after receiving a kind email about the matter, I must say that I actually understand a little of the position BJS is in. I served for a few years as an admin on a site (with a *far* less important theme) where one aim was to provide a safe haven for people tired of toxic web forums. Maintaining a healthy, constructive atmosphere took an extraordinary amount of behind-the-scenes work; for several of us it became a full-blown part-time job.
After a few years I was burnt out and had to quit, and was heartbroken to see the culture I'd worked so hard to develop come unraveled. No, I wasn't anyone special, and there are others who could have kept it going if they'd been in the right place; but developing and maintaining a good forum culture takes a kind of dedication and understanding that few people ever really get a handle on.
So brothers, I do get it. Really! Been there, done that.
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