Logia
a journal of lutheran theology
EVANGELISM AND THE GOSPEL
holy trinity/july 1993
volume II, number 3
ei[ ti" lalei',
wJ" lovgia Qeou'
logia is a journal of Lutheran theology. As such it publishes articles
on exegetical, historical, systematic, and liturgical theology that promote
the orthodox theology of the Evangelical Lutheran Church. We cling to
God’s divinely instituted marks of the church: the gospel, preached
purely in all its articles, and the sacraments, administered according to
Christ’s institution. This name expresses what this journal wants to be.
In Greek, LOGIA functions either as an adjective meaning “eloquent,”
“learned,” or “cultured,” or as a plural noun meaning “divine revelations,” “words,” or “messages.” The word is found in  Peter :, Acts
: and Romans :. Its compound forms include oJmologiva (confession), ajpologiva (defense), and ajnv alogiva (right relationship). Each of
these concepts and all of them together express the purpose and method
of this journal. LOGIA is committed to providing an independent theological forum normed by the prophetic and apostolic Scriptures and the
Lutheran Confessions. At the heart of our journal we want our readers to
find a love for the sacred Scriptures as the very Word of God, not merely
as rule and norm, but especially as Spirit, truth, and life which reveals
Him who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life—Jesus Christ our Lord.
Therefore, we confess the church, without apology and without rancor,
only with a sincere and fervent love for the precious Bride of Christ, the
holy Christian church, “the mother that begets and bears every Christian
through the Word of God,” as Martin Luther says in the Large Catechism (LC II, ). We are animated by the conviction that the Evangelical Church of the Augsburg Confession represents the true expression of
the church which we confess as one, holy, catholic, and apostolic.
THE COVER ART is from the West Center Window of St. Lorenz Lutheran
Church, Frankenmuth, Michigan. Founded in  by a small group of
German immigrants sent by J.K.W. Löhe, this congregation later
became one of the charter members of The Lutheran Church—Missouri
Synod. Löhe’s hope was that these immigrants would demonstrate to
the Indians and all others with whom they might come in contact, “Wie
gut und schön es ist bei Jesus sein” (“How good and beautiful it is to be
with Jesus”). The portion of the window pictured is of the congregation’s first pastor, The Rev. Friedrich August Crämer, and Chief Pemassikeh of the local Chippewa tribe. After speaking together, the chief
asked Pastor Crämer and his settlers to “Teach my people the truth.”
About this endeavor, Pastor Crämer later wrote:
“I am most anxious to tell you about . . . the Indian children who have
been entrusted to us for schooling and instruction and of whom we
have already by this time baptized  . . . Surely, anyone who has ever
had the opportunity to observe the likes of these little savages in their
woods . . . who would then see them hurry first into our German
school . . . and heard how full-throatedly they join in the German
morning hymns and the prayer . . . but later come to the instruction in
religion and English, as they recite the Lutheran Small Catechism in
their own mother tongue . . . who would spend a Sunday here and see
how most of them first voluntarily attend our German services and
very devoutly pray the Our Father and the Creed with us, but then
one and all sing hymns in the Indian language in their own services
. . . would have to rejoice wholeheartedly with us because of this and
would thank God that He has made us worthy to be agents of His
mercy to these poor children . . .” (Moving Frontiers, CPH, , pp.
-). Photo by Rummel Studios. Used by permission.
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EDITORS
Michael J. Albrecht, Copy Editor—Pastor, St. James Lutheran Church,
West St. Paul, MN
Joel A. Brondos, Logia Forum and Correspondence Editor—Pastor,
St. John Lutheran Church, Vincennes, IN
Charles Cortright, Editorial Associate—Pastor, Our Savior’s Lutheran
Church, East Brunswick, NJ
Scott Murray, Editorial Associate—Pastor, Salem Lutheran Church,
Gretna, LA
John Pless, Book Review Editor—Pastor, University Lutheran Chapel,
Minneapolis, MN
Erling Teigen, Editorial Coordinator—Professor, Bethany Lutheran
College, Mankato, MN
Jon D. Vieker, Technical Editor—Pastor, St. Mark’s Lutheran Church,
West Bloomfield, MI
SUPPORT STAFF
Brent W. Kuhlman, Development Manager—Pastor, Faith Lutheran
Church, Hebron, NE
Timothy A. Rossow, Subscription Manager—Pastor, Emmanuel
Lutheran Church, Dearborn, MI
Läna Schurb, Proofreader—Ypsilanti, MI
Rodney E. Zwonitzer, Advertising Manager—Pastor, Emmanuel
Lutheran Church, Dearborn, MI
CONTRIBUTING EDITORS
Ulrich Asendorf—Pastor, Hannover, Germany
Burnell F. Eckardt, Jr.—Pastor, St. John Lutheran Church, Berlin, WI
Charles Evanson—Pastor, Redeemer Lutheran Church, Fort Wayne, IN
Ronald Feuerhahn—Professor, Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, MO
Lowell Green—Professor, State University of New York at Buffalo, NY
Paul Grime—Pastor, St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, West Allis, WI
David A. Gustafson—Pastor, Peace Lutheran Church, Poplar, WI
Tom G.A. Hardt—Pastor, St. Martin’s Lutheran Church, Stockholm, Sweden
Matthew Harrison—Pastor, St. Peter’s Lutheran Church, Westgate, IA
Steven Hein—Professor, Concordia University, River Forest, IL
Horace Hummel—Professor, Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, MO
Arthur Just—Professor, Concordia Theological Seminary, Fort Wayne, IN
John Kleinig—Professor, Luther Seminary, North Adelaide,
South Australia, Australia
Arnold J. Koelpin—Professor, Dr. Martin Luther College, New Ulm, MN
Gerald Krispin—Professor, Concordia College, Edmonton, Alberta,
Canada
Peter K. Lange—Pastor, St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, Concordia, MO
Cameron MacKenzie—Professor, Concordia Theological Seminary,
Fort Wayne, IN
Gottfried Martens—Pastor, St. Mary’s Lutheran Church, Berlin, Germany
Kurt Marquart—Professor, Concordia Theological Seminary, Fort Wayne, IN
Norman E. Nagel—Professor, Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, MO
Martin Noland—Pastor, Christ Lutheran Church, Oak Park, IL
Wilhelm Petersen—President, Bethany Seminary, Mankato, MN
Hans-Lutz Poetsch—Pastor Emeritus, Lutheran Hour, Berlin, Germany
Robert D. Preus—President Emeritus, Concordia Theological Seminary,
Fort Wayne, IN
Clarence Priebbenow—Pastor, Trinity Lutheran Church, Oakey,
Queensland, Australia
Richard Resch—Kantor, St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, Fort Wayne, IN
David P. Scaer—Professor, Concordia Theological Seminary,
Fort Wayne, IN
Robert Schaibley—Pastor, Zion Lutheran Church, Fort Wayne, IN
Bruce Schuchard—Pastor, St. James Lutheran Church, Victor, IA
Ken Schurb—Professor, Concordia College, Ann Arbor, MI
Harold Senkbeil—Pastor, Elm Grove Lutheran Church, Elm Grove, WI
Carl P.E. Springer—Professor, Illinois State University, Normal, IL
John Stephenson—Professor, Concordia Seminary, St. Catharines,
Ontario, Canada
Walter Sundberg—Professor, Luther Northwestern Theological
Seminary, St. Paul, MN
David Jay Webber—Pastor, Trinity Lutheran Church, Brewster, MA
William Weinrich—Professor, Concordia Theological Seminary,
Fort Wayne, IN
George F. Wollenburg—President, Montana District LCMS, Billings, MT
logia
a journal of lutheran theology
holy trinity/july 1993
volume II, number 3

 ..............................................................................................................................................................

Eujaggelisthv": Evangelist?
By John M. Moe .........................................................................................................................................................................................
A Lutheran Strategy for Urban Ministry: Evangelism and the Means of Grace
By Robert W. Schaibley..............................................................................................................................................................................
The Method of Meta-Church: The Point of Truth and the Points that Trouble
By Kenneth W. Wieting............................................................................................................................................................................
A Call for Manuscripts..............................................................................................................................................................................
Reaching the TV Generation: Meeting the Challenge of Short Attention Spans
An Interview Moderated by Ken Schurb.................................................................................................................................................
Liturgical Worship for Evangelism and Outreach
By James Tiefel..........................................................................................................................................................................................
A Confessional Lutheran Encounters American Religion: The Case of Friedrich Conrad Dietrich Wyneken
By David A. Gustafson .............................................................................................................................................................................
“How Christ Is Denied”: A Sermon by C.F.W. Walther
Translated by John Nordling ...................................................................................................................................................................
 
Paul Alliet: Origins of the Wisconsin Doctrine of the Ministry • David Scaer Responds...........................................................................
Robert Nordlie: In Defense of The Goal of the Gospel • Joel Brondos Responds for LOGIA ......................................................................
 .........................................................................................................................................................................................
Review Essay: Pray for the Increase of Preaching against Satan
Luther, Man Between God and the Devil. By Heiko Oberman
Themes and Variations for a Christian Doxology. By Hughes Oliphant Old
How to Reach Secular People. By George G. Hunter, III
Confessional Lutheran Dogmatics: Eschatology. By John Stephenson
Scripture within Scripture. By Bruce G. Schuchard
BRIEFLY NOTED
  ..........................................................................................................................................................................
Your God Is Too Big • Pearls before Swine • Instruction or Religious Entertainment?
Effective Fishing • Gottesdienst and Evangelical Identity • The Joy of the Divine Service
The Quest for Urban Hope • Meta-Church: Pastors as CEO’s • Misconceptions in Evangelism
The Night of the Living Reconcilers • Either/Or • Tell Me, Pastor
CORRESPONDENCE
j
■ Blessings in the name of Jesus who
calls us out of darkness into his marvelous light!
I’m writing to ask permission to reprint
the article “The Church: Hospital or
Gymnasium?” by Rev. Ken Schurb. This
is an excellent article concerning the
means of grace as taught in the Lutheran Church. I’m sure many members of
our congregation could benefit by reading it.
I would also like to convey to you that
LOGIA is an excellent journal. And as
soon as I can personally afford the subscription fee, I’ll be sending it in. Thank
you for your time and labors on behalf
of those who read it and gain from its
articles.
Rev. John W. Wernecke
Alden, Iowa
■ I am reading with great appreciation
the Epiphany/January  copy of
LOGIA. The articles on the church and
ministry present a timely restoration of
the biblical and confessional teachings
of the Evangelical Lutheran Church on
the divine office of the word and sacraments. They are pertinent for our times.
I shall await with eager anticipation for
future issues and commend LOGIA to
fellow pastors here in Australia.
■ I fear a scruple will be injected into
the consciences of those who read Reinhard Sanders’ book review of “The
Lord’s Supper in the Theology of Martin Chemnitz,” by Bjarne W. Teigen
(LOGIA, Vol. II, no. , pp. -).
It is a service to point out “dogmatic
deficits within the Lutheran Church” (p.
). However, to say that “every kind of
sacramental adminstration is to be
rejected where the remains of the consecrated elements are not consumed with
the communion service” (p. ) is not
helpful. That is a pious opinion of the
author (Teigen), and possibly other
Lutherans, but it is still an opinion.
Chemnitz also said, “Each queen
appears most beautiful to her own king”
(The Lord’s Supper by Chemnitz, trans.
J.A.O. Preus. St. Louis: CPH, , p.
).
Concerning the “remnants” (reliquiae)
or “receptionism,” and for another
review and explanation of Chemnitz’
theology, see J.A.O. Preus’ review essay
on Teigen’s book in the Concordia Journal, October , Vol. , no. , pp. . And finally, read as much Chemnitz
as you can.
Rev. Thomas E. Engler
Staten Island, New York
Bruce W. Adams
Glengowrie, South Australia

LOGIA CORRESPONDENCE AND
COLLOQUIUM FRATRUM
We encourage our readers to respond to
the material they find in LOGIA—
whether it be in the articles, book
reviews, or letters of other readers. Some
of your suggestions have already been
taken to heart as we consider the readability of everything from the typeface
and line spacing (leading) to the
content and length of articles. While we
cannot print everything that comes
across our desks, we hope that our new
COLLOQUIUM FRATRUM section will
allow for longer response/counterresponse exchanges, whereas our
CORRESPONDENCE section is a place for
shorter “Letters to the Editors.”
If you wish to respond to something in
an issue of LOGIA, please do so soon
after you receive an issue. Since LOGIA is
a quarterly periodical, we are often
meeting deadlines for the subsequent
issue about the time you receive your
current issue. Getting your responses in
early will help keep them timely. Send
your CORRESPONDENCE contributions to:
LOGIA Correspondence,  N. Eighth
St., Vincennes, IN, -, or your
COLLOQUIUM FRATRUM contributions to
LOGIA Editorial Department,  Plum
St., Mankato, MN, .
LOGIA TAPE PRODUCTIONS
Numerous lectures and free conferences are held each year
dealing with various topics related to our Confessions and
parish practice. Sometimes these presentations have a relatively small audience due to remote locations, limited promotion,
and schedule conflicts. LOGIA Tape Productions is one way of
surmounting such hurdles, extending the benefits of these lectures and conferences to you.
When tapes of conference speakers are made available to
LOGIA, we reproduce them and serve as a clearing house for
those who are interested. Listening to these tapes while driving
or devoting a quiet hour to study in the morning can be most
refreshing! One can gather from these tapes resources for sermons, catechesis, and Bible studies, or even recall the substance of pertinent lectures from seminary days.
TITLES CURRENTLY AVAILABLE
What Does It Mean to Be a Pastor?—Keynote Address
Dr. A.L. Barry..............................................................
Catechetics and the Royal Priesthood
Rev. Peter Bender........................................................
What Does It Mean to Be a Pastor?—Panel Discussion
Rev. Paul Burow, Moderator......................................
What Does It Mean to Be a Pastor?—Exegetical Study
Dr. Jonathan Grothe...................................................
The Challenge to Lutheran Identity
Rev. David Gustafson .................................................
The Church’s Song in the Small Congregation
Dr. David Held............................................................
Prayer: Public and Private
Dr. Kenneth Korby .....................................................
Called and Ordained: A Theological Forum—Pastoral Practice
Dr. Kenneth Korby .....................................................
Sermons on Catechesis
Dr. Kenneth Korby .....................................................
✁
Called and Ordained: A Theological Forum—Confessions
Dr. Norman Nagel.......................................................
Liturgy and Catechesis
Rev. John Pless .............................................................
Closed Communion and the Liturgy
Rev. John Pless .............................................................
Sexuality, Marriage, and Family (4 tapes)
Rev. Robert Schaibley ................................................
Liturgy As the Life of the Church
Rev. Harold Senkbeil ...................................................
Called and Ordained: A Theological Forum—Panel Discussion
Rev. Jon Vieker, Moderator ........................................
The Problem of the Image of God
Dr. James Voelz ...........................................................
Called and Ordained: A Theological Forum—Scriptures
Dr. William Weinrich .................................................
The Male Pastor Representing Christ
Dr. William Weinrich .................................................
Called and Ordained—Complete Set ( tapes) ..................
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Eua
j ggelisth"v : Evangelist?
JOHN M. MOE
j
TIMOTHY IN  TIMOTHY : IS
translated: “Do the work of an evangelist.”
Although “evangelist” seems to be a natural translation for eujaggelisthv", I believe it to be, at best, misleading. In
Studies in Words C.S. Lewis wrote,
P
AUL’S ADMONITION TO
COMmonly
The dominant sense of any word lies uppermost in
our minds. Wherever we meet the word, our natural
impulse will be to give it that sense. When this operation results in nonsense, of course, we see our mistake
and try over again. But if it makes tolerable sense our
tendency is to go merrily on. We are often deceived. . . .
I call such senses dangerous senses because they lure
us into misreadings.
The word whose dominant sense is likely to “lure us into
misreadings,” or in this case mistranslating, is not eujaggelisthv" but rather “evangelist.” The dominant sense of the
word “evangelist” is something like “one who works primarily
to bring those outside the church to Christ.” When we
encounter the word “evangelist” in the translation of  Timothy : the natural impulse will be to give it that sense. Anyone
who has attended a seminary or done any reading in the literature of evangelism since the advent of the Church Growth
Movement has seen these words from Paul’s pastoral letter to
Timothy used to show that Paul lays on the pastoral office a
responsibility for evangelism outreach. That claim is only valid
if Paul wrote e[rgon poivhson eujaggelistou' with something
very like the dominant sense of our English “evangelist” in
mind.
Of course, it is not always proper to translate a New Testament Greek word with its English derivative. In Luke : the
Greek has ∆Apelqovntwn de; tw'n ajggevlwn ∆Iwavnnou. English
readers would be shocked to read “After John’s angels had left.”
Here Lewis’ observation, “When this operation results in nonsense, of course, we see our mistake and try over again,” takes
effect. We see clearly that ajggevlwn must be rendered “messengers” and that the dominant sense of its English derivative
“angels” would completely distort Luke’s meaning.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JOHN M. MOE is pastor of St. John Lutheran Church, Rosemount,
Minnesota.

Nonsense is not the result of translating eujaggelisthv"
with “evangelist” in  Timothy :. Rather, this “makes tolerable sense” and “our tendency is to go merrily on” assuming
that Paul is telling Timothy (and by application, all those who
hold the pastoral office) to “do the work of an evangelist.” The
question is: Does eujaggelisthv" indeed bear the meaning
brought to mind by the English “evangelist”? Certainly in handling the word of God we must be careful that we are not lured
into deception by the dominant meaning, or “dangerous
sense” to use Lewis’ term, of the English words used in translation.
Eujaggelisthv" is not a common word in Greek usage.
Outside the writings of the Christian church “it is attested only
on a poorly preserved inscr. from Rhodes . . . where it means
‘one who proclaims oracular sayings.’” “In the early church
the evangelists were regarded as successors of the apostles.”
There are but three occurrences of the word in the New
Testament—Acts :, Ephesians :, and  Timothy :. In
Acts : Luke writes that Paul stayed with “Philip the evangelist, who was one of the seven.” Here eujaggelisthv" is used to
distinguish this particular Philip from others. We can learn no
more about the meaning of eujaggelisthv" from its use here
than we can learn about Nazareth from the fact that Jesus is
designated Jesus of Nazareth. However, what is recorded about
Philip in the book of Acts does give us some insight into the life
and activity of one whom the Scriptures call an eujaggelisthv".
Philip is listed among those “seven men of good reputation, full of the Holy Spirit and wisdom” (Acts :), appointed
and ordained by the apostles for the business of the daily distribution. He is among those scattered by Saul’s persecution of
the church who “went everywhere preaching the word”
(eujaggelizovmenoi to;n lovgon; Acts :). Philip went to Samaria
and ejkhvrussen aujtoi'" to;n Cristovn (preached the Christ to
them; Acts :). Luke records the activities of Philip among
non Jews in Samaria, with the Ethiopian, and his preaching of
the gospel in the cities along the coast from Azotus to Caesarea
where Paul was to stay with him years later. What Philip the
evangelist does is to preach (khruvssw and eujalggivzomai) the
Christ to them.
The recipients of Philip’s preaching in Acts  are Gentiles.
But if he went to preach in places where the Christ was
unknown because he was an eujaggelisthv", there is no indica-


tion of that in the Scriptures. Luke says that he goes to Samaria
because he has been run out of Jerusalem by the persecution of
Saul. He preaches the Christ to the Ethiopian by the specific
direction of the Holy Spirit. Years later the Apostle Paul stays
with him in Caesarea. We can only speculate about his activities in the meantime and we are not told anything about his
activities at the time when Paul stays with him.
All we can say with certainty about Philip is that he
preached (khruvssw and eujalggivzomai) the word and the
Christ, and both of these verbs are used of the preaching of
others (e.g. Paul) who are not called eujaggelisthv". Anything
beyond this would have to be in the realm of speculation.
In Ephesians : eujaggelistav" are included among the
gifts of the risen Christ to His church kai; aujto;" e[dwken tou;"
me;n ajpostovlou" tou;" de; profhvta" tou;" de; eujaggelistav"
tou;" de; poimevna" kai; didaskavlou". All that can be learned
here about any of the offices mentioned (besides their being
gifts of the Christ) is their ranking from apostles to
pastors/teachers.
Beyond the fact that the eujaggelisthv" is a preacher of the
word of Christ ranked between the apostles and pastors the
Scriptures leave us uninformed. Our understanding of Paul’s
use of eujaggelisthv" in  Timothy : must be largely
informed by its context. In the pastoral epistles we get a rather
clear picture of the office of pastor. He is the shepherd of a
flock, the preacher and teacher who by word and example leads
that collection of God’s people over whom he has been given
responsibility. The church, all believers, is to “make disciples of
all nations.” But the responsibilities of the pastor, as defined by
the pastoral epistles, are all directed to the church which he is
called to serve. The whole thrust of the pastoral responsibility
is perhaps most clearly summarized in Paul’s words to the
elders from Ephesus in Acts :: “Therefore take heed to
yourselves and to all the flock, among which the Holy Spirit
has made you overseers, to shepherd the church of God which
he purchased with his own blood.”
It would be a very sudden and unexplained change of the
whole tone and tenor of the pastoral responsibility if Paul
intended the dominant sense of the English word “evangelist”
when he wrote toward the conclusion of  Timothy, e[rgon
poivhson eujaggelistou'. Friedrich puts it well in his article on
eujaggelisthv" in the Theological Dictionary of the New Testament:
The evangelists continue the work of the apostles.
They are not just missionaries, for, as eujaggevlion is
congregational as well as missionary preaching, so
the leader of the community can also be called
eujaggelisthv" ( Tm :). His task is khruvssein to;n
lovgon ( Tm : ).
The dominant sense of the word “evangelist,” “one who
works primarily to bring those outside the church to Christ,”
makes it a very poor translation of eujaggelisthv" in  Timothy
:. As we noted earlier with Philip, the preaching of the Word
is the one activity of the eujaggelisthv" which the New Testament clearly portrays. If we meet the word “evangelist” in our
translations of  Timothy : we are likely to go “merrily on,”
as Lewis says, assuming that Paul is speaking of missionary
activity which is the privilege of the whole church. The pastoral
responsibility is “to shepherd the church of God which he purchased with his own blood.” Dr. Luther’s translation seems
faithful to the text and context: “Thue das Werk eines evangelischen Predigers”—“Do the work of a gospel preacher.”
LOGIA
NOTES
. C.S. Lewis, Studies in Words (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, ), p. .
. This definition is, I think, a good expression of the common understanding of what is meant by the word “evangelist,”
the “dominant sense.” It is not intended to reflect a proper
biblical understanding of divine monergism in conversion.
. Gerhard Friedrich, “eujaggelisthv",” Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, ed. Gerhard Kittel, trans. Geoffrey
W. Bromiley (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. B. Eerdmans,
) II, p. 
. Kittel, p. 
. “The Gospel is not just missionary proclamation: Col
:: to; eujaggevlion pavrestin; 1 Cor :: eJstavnai ejn tw/'
eujaggelivw/. It does not merely found the community; it also
edifies it.” Kittel, p. 
. Kittel, p. 
. This is my own attempt to translate both Luther and
Paul. The following, from current English translations, are listed for comparison:
“Make the preaching of the Good News your life’s work”
(Jerusalem Bible).
“Bring others to Christ” (Living Bible).
“Work to spread the gospel” (NEB).
“Do the work of one who preaches the gospel” (NEV).
“Do the work of an evangelist” (NIV).
“Go on steadily preaching the gospel” (Philips).
“Do the work of an evangelist” (RSV).
“Do the work of a preacher of the Good News” (TEV).
A Lutheran Strategy for Urban Ministry
Evangelism and the Means of Grace
ROBERT W. SCHAIBLEY
j
Hispanic. The school population is  percent black,  percent
Asian,  percent white and  percent Hispanic. The pastoral
staff—sr. pastor, visitation pastor (part-time, retired), pastoral
assistant (part-time, seminary professor)—and the teaching
staff (eight full-time, one half-time) are all white. The laity can
be categorized in the following four groups: (A) the old-time
families (mostly white, many of whom moved out of the neighborhood many years ago); (B) school family converts from the
’s and ’s (mostly black, many of whom also have moved
out from the immediate neighborhood in recent years but
maintain their memberships largely out of interest in the
school); (C) recent converts and transfers over the past five years
(roughly an even number of whites and blacks, with a lesser
number of Hispanics and Asians, who live throughout the city
and represent the “mission results” of the ministry described in
this paper); and (D) the seminary community (professors and
staff, who represent more permanent members, plus many student families who stay with us from two to four years). Both
the seminary community and the more recent converts/transfers are highly supportive of this present strategy. Lesser but
growing appreciation may be found among the school family
converts, and considerable resistance still exists among some of
the old-time families.
I. HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION
A. PREAMBLE
T
HIS PAPER OUTLINES THE STRATEGY BEING EMPLOYED IN THE
worship life of a Lutheran inner-city congregation in
Fort Wayne, Indiana. The congregation’s location is
nearly at the very center of whatever actually is found in Fort
Wayne which fits what one might picture as “inner-city/ghetto.” In our town this includes: run-down (or even abandoned)
homes, government-run public housing projects, graffiti-covered store-fronts, prostitution, crack houses, street-corner
drug dealers, random drive-by shootings, broken homes, and
high concentrations of unemployment, alcoholism and family
violence. Our immediate neighborhood is  percent black, 
percent white,  percent other (including Hispanics and
Asians). Five years ago, almost everyone in the neighborhood
was seeking a way out of it. Today, there are some hopeful
signs of neighborhood recovery and pride emerging.
In this neighborhood sits Zion Evangelical Lutheran
Church. Zion was started as a Lutheran school (an extension of
the mother church, St. Paul) in . In , a congregation
was organized by  families who were summarily transferred
out by St. Paul, together with the deed to the land on which the
school building had been erected. By , a large Gothic
church building was dedicated, which still exists in excellent
physical condition. The congregation soon altered its all-German character by absorbing a large influx of ethnic Macedonians, an early sign of the continuing cosmopolitan nature of
Zion membership. The original school building had been
removed when a large three-story brick parish hall, built in the
s, was renovated into a modern school facility. This renovation was part of a congregational investment of more than a
half-million dollars, completed in the early s, as part of a
conscious decision to stay in the present location in response
to the fast-changing neighborhood of those days. Today,
Zion’s baptized membership of  ( communicants) is 
percent white,  percent black,  percent Asian, and  percent
B. PASTORAL PERCEPTIONS OF MINISTRY
Prior to my arrival at Zion in , my predecessor operated with a different strategy. In many ways, he sought to implement the strategy of the Church Growth Movement. However,
one of the key concepts of Church Growth strategy, the
“homogeneous group,” simply does not fit this congregation.
Therefore, my predecessor supplanted the homogeneity principle with “multiculturalism.” The worship life was conducted
according to the tastes of the members and potential members
(a Church Growth strategy), but given the multiple cultures in
the congregation, it was necessary to balance these interests
and tastes in the conduct of congregational life at Zion. What
resulted, as I discovered upon arriving at Zion, was an inherently unstable situation of three separate cultures existing
alongside one another, which seemed mostly to be held together by “shared negative empathy” (in this case, by seeking to
align groups A and B against the interests of group D). In addi-
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ROBERT W. SCHAIBLEY is pastor of Zion Lutheran Church, Fort Wayne,
Indiana.

     

tion, and even more important, it seemed to me that to view
the congregation as a “multicultural” entity was to overlook a
basic characteristic of Christ’s church, namely its “transcultural” or even “metacultural” nature. This distinction is vitally
important, and I thought that it called for a different approach
than that of my predecessor.
The key to my predecessor’s approach was found in programs and persons: programs to meet needs and persons to
find their identity by involvement in the programs. Worship
was viewed as one such program among many others. Volunteerism became the theme of the life of the church at Zion. To
my way of thinking, this approach fits well with the basic
Church Growth assumptions about the sociological, man-centered nature of the church. This approach fits well with the
concept of multiculturalism. If I bought into Church Growth
assumptions, and if I bought into multiculturalism, there
would have been little to criticize or to change in my predecessor’s approach. And there would have been little reason for me
to consider the divine call when it came. But I do not buy into
Church Growth assumptions; I do not buy into multiculturalism. For my part, I consider Church Growth assumptions, and
multiculturalism as a Church Growth strategy to be contrary to
a Lutheran understanding of the gospel and of the church.
The church in its final, eschatological reality is “metacultural,” i.e., in the eschaton, the church is the overarching reality
of all that is human; the church is our ultimate culture ( Cor
:; Col :). The church in its present, existential reality is
“transcultural,” i.e., in this present age, the church is our true
culture and citizenship, beyond which, in our separate cultures, we are but foreigners and aliens; the church is our consummate culture (Gal :; Eph :-). It is striking how the
diversity of membership at Zion lends itself to an empirical
expression of the transculturality of the church. But this
expression does not come forth when we work with the concepts of “balance” and “mutual coexistence.” Rather, this transcultural reality comes forth when we work with the concept of
unity with those expressions of historical Christianity which
have already transcended historical and cultural realities. The
theological realities which transcend the history of the church
are the word and sacraments (lex credendi—the principles of
faith), and the transcultural expression of these realities has
been the historic liturgy of the church (lex orandi, lex credendi—“the principles of worship express the principles of faith”).
Simply put, our worship life reflects, expresses, reinforces and
teaches the faith of the worshipers. If worship is an extension
of cultural realities and cultural differences, then what gets
reflected, expressed, reinforced, and taught is the centrality of
these differences. Since these differences are human differences, worship becomes man-centered (anthropocentric)
rather than God-centered (theocentric). The goal I have adopted in my pastoral tenure at Zion is to strive for a church life
which, at every possible place, and especially at worship,
reflects what is Christocentric rather than what is anthropocentric, what is transcultural rather than what is multicultural, and what is “catholic” (meaning that which transcends
space and time) rather than what is contemporary. My reason
for this goal is that such an approach is faithful to our confes-
sional understanding of the church. For those more pragmatically inclined, I should add that the expected result of aiming at
this goal is that by engendering a transcultural experience of
the church we will foster the continuance of the cosmopolitan
character of Zion congregation, and that in being faithful to
the confessions and the catholicity of the church, we will in fact
meet the true spiritual needs of the people whose lives we
touch, regardless of their particular culture.
II. GETTING AT THE NATURE OF WORSHIP
A. THE SCRIPTURAL BACKGROUND OF WORSHIP
Why do we Christians gather for worship? Why do we do
“this worship thing”? Answers to these questions abound.
Everyone has reasons. Most of these are simply individual (or
secondary) reasons, and that’s okay. But, if worship is ultimately God’s thing, then only theological (or primary) reasons
can justify what it is that we do in worship. So, from a biblical
point of view, what is it that is most essentially true about the
church at worship? Luther leads us to note worship as part of
God’s design, and that design embraces his command, his
taught example, his promise, and his stated desire. In Scripture
we find a pattern of worship flowing out of God’s design.
The church in its present, existential
reality is “transcultural . . .”
) We see that mankind, by nature, is a worshiping being.
Indeed, all creation worships God. Mankind consciously worships God. This nature of a worshiping being is a sign of God’s
design. This feature of man’s innate creatureliness is at the
foundation of the notion that worship has sociological components, as the Church Growth movement strongly asserts.
) After the fall in the Garden of Eden, mankind continues
to display the nature of a worshiping being, but now all human
worship is by nature pagan, sinful and distorted.
) In the children of Israel, God reestablishes a worshiping
community under his own covenant of divine commitment to
them. God gives them both the law and the sacrificial system as
channels through which to express, in an “authorized” manner, mankind’s innate nature as a worshiping being. In so
doing, God establishes, out of nothing, a new culture, an essentially religious culture unlike any other at that time. This religious culture was not to exist for its own sake, but to be a light
to the gentile nations of the world. Thus, what begins with the
creation of a people of his own making is God’s design for a
transcultural religion.
) Israel’s response to her God was to turn his system of
grace into legalism, a worship system of human behaviors
evolving to meet the “felt needs” of the people. Both the temple
and the sacrificial system became perverted into behaviors to


both manipulate God and please the people. God’s response
was sure: Gone was the Temple, the Ark of the Covenant, and
therefore his sacrificial system, as the children of God were led
off into exile in Babylon.
) Despite the return to Jerusalem and the rebuilding of
the temple, the nation continues and even expands its humanoriented approach to religion and worship, due in no small
measure to Israel’s renewed interest in the Book of the Law
which soon degenerated into legalism. Israel at the time of
Christ had become thoroughly legalistic in its understanding of
worship.
Therefore everything in the Christian
church is so ordered that we may daily
obtain full forgiveness of sins through
the word and through signs appointed
to comfort and revive our consciences
as long as we live.
) Thus it is that the New Testament message aims straight
at legalism in worship. In John , Jesus points out that the key
to worship is not legalism. In that sense, Jesus teaches that true
worship is not found in place or behavior. Rather, the key to
worship is found in “Spirit and in truth.” Yet, at the same time,
the New Testament teaching on worship does not reflect an
absence of place: “day by day, attending the temple together
and breaking bread in their homes” (Acts :), “not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some” (Heb :).
) Then, what place? The answer is: that place where the
congregation congregates around the gospel, the water of Baptism, and the Sacrament of the Altar. Why here? Because it is
here, where believers gather around word and sacrament, that
the “Spirit and truth,” of which Jesus speaks, is to be found:
“The Spirit is the witness, because the Spirit is the truth. There
are three witnesses, the Spirit, the water, and the blood, and
these three agree. If we receive the testimony of men, the testimony of God is greater; for this is the testimony of God that he
has borne witness to his Son” ( Jn :-).
Thus, the New Testament establishes the foundation for
worship in the church of Christ. The apostolic church receives
from Christ, and teaches to us, that there is a worship life that
is desired by God for his redeemed people.
B. THE CENTRALITY OF WORSHIP
Why is worship central for developing a Lutheran understanding of the church, and thus a Lutheran approach to urban
ministry? Because worship is where we experience the Lutheran definition of the church. As Luther reminds us in the Smalcald Articles, “a seven-year-old child knows what the church is,
namely, holy believers and sheep who hear the voice of their
Shepherd” (SA, III, XII, ). To put it another way, the church is
believers gathered around the church’s marks, the word and
sacrament. Thus, this context we call “worship” is the context
where we experience the church. In the Large Catechism,
Luther describes the church at worship this way: “I believe that
there is on earth a little flock or community of pure saints
under one head, Christ. It is called together by the Holy Spirit
in one faith, mind, and understanding. It possesses a variety of
gifts, yet is united in love without sect or schism. Of this community I also am a part and member, a participant and copartner in all the blessings it possesses. . . .”
Further we believe that in this Christian church we have
the forgiveness of sins, which is granted through the holy
sacraments and absolution as well as through all the comforting words of the entire gospel. Toward forgiveness is directed
everything that is to be preached concerning the sacraments
and, in short, the entire gospel and all the duties of Christianity. Forgiveness is needed constantly, for although God’s grace
has been won by Christ, and holiness has been wrought by the
Holy Spirit through God’s word in the unity of the Christian
Church, yet because we are encumbered with our flesh we are
never without sin.
Therefore everything in the Christian church is so ordered
that we may daily obtain full forgiveness of sins through the
word and through signs appointed to comfort and revive our
consciences as long as we live (LC, II, -, -).
This Christian church, by virtue of its definition, is manifested in this world where believers are gathered around the
word and sacraments. That means that the church is manifested in this world in the context of what we call “worship.”
Therefore, worship is the vital starting point for developing a
Lutheran understanding of the church, and thus a Lutheran
approach to urban ministry.
III. GETTING AT A
LUTHERAN UNDERSTANDING OF WORSHIP
A. SOME ASSUMPTIONS ABOUT “PROPER WORSHIP”
In this paper I shall refer to the goal of worship shaped by
a Lutheran understanding of the church as “proper worship.”
In using the term “proper” I wish to stress the fact that control
is not the issue here; message is the issue! As my pastoral assistant at Zion, Dr. James Bollhagen, likes to remind us, “The real
danger in worship planning is a danger of message, not of control: Theology can suffer in the worship planning process!” The
concept of “proper worship” involves the following points:
) The nature of proper worship is cross-cultural and crossgenerational. This is because the nature of the church, which is
seen in the context we call worship, is cross-cultural and crossgenerational. St. John reminds us that Christ spoke of the
cross-cultural nature of the church: “I have other sheep who
are not of this fold, I must bring them also” (Jn :). St.
Matthew, citing what we now call “the great commission,”
reflects the cross-generational nature of the church.
) The nature of proper worship is grace-oriented, not
response-oriented. This is so because the church, being founded
on sola gratia, is grace-oriented, not cooperation-oriented. Perhaps no premise concerning the church and her mission is
more misunderstood than sola gratia. “Response” is not the
     

purpose of grace, for if it were, then “grace would no longer be
grace” (Rom :), but simply some sort of “aid” or “potential.” Grace is not a means to a greater end. Grace is the end
itself, the tevlo" of the salvation of our God. The “means of
grace” connect people with this grace, this tevlo" of the salvation of our God. This grace of God is powerful in its effects, but
these are “effects of result,” rather than “effects of purpose.”
Only thus is it true that salvation is by grace alone, that is, by
grace without cooperation.
) Proper worship in a Lutheran sense is distinctly different
from worship in the general Protestant, Reformed, modern
“Evangelical” perspectives of worship. Proper worship is not: a)
re-enactment; b) parallel activity with the divine; c) a social
gathering (the gospel is offensive on the social level,  Cor :;  Cor :-); d) group therapy; or e) schooling.
told us that a mutual agreement on family values, the importance of mission outreach, and even a high view of the Bible,
do not represent the essential oneness that one might think;
after all, we share all of these themes with such non-Christian
sects such as the Mormons, the Jehovah’s Witnesses, and the
Moonies, among others. There is, in fact, a serious and substantial difference between the Evangelical and the Lutheran
understanding of the Bible. Nevertheless, many conservative
Lutheran pastors and congregations became quite open to
worship influences from the Evangelicals, despite the fact that
the approach to worship which flows from the Evangelicals’
understanding of the Bible is fundamentally different from the
approach to worship which flows from a Lutheran understanding of the Bible.
Here is how one’s understanding of the Bible affects worship. There is a space-time gap between the salvation-event of
Christ and the contemporary life of the Christian. Both the use
of the Bible and the expectations of worship are what the
church uses to fill that gap between the “then and there” and
the “here and now.” Present-day Evangelicals maintain the following approach to filling the space-time gap:
) The key to filling the space-time gap is to bring about a
change inside of man. One is capable and responsible in the
realm of salvation. God initiates and helps one in this process,
but one must make that change, the decision, the leap of faith
(“let go and let God,”etc.).
) Ultimately, this is an intensely personal struggle. One
must wrestle within oneself, and make the spiritual discovery
which closes the gap between the sinner and the Savior. This
discovery is one of perceiving both the “meaning for me” and
the “feeling for me” of Christ.
) Therefore, since this is an intensely subjective thing,
both the work of conversion (evangelism) and the subsequent
Christian life require just the right person who will be able to
persuade, attract, convince, etc., this particular individual, thus
enabling this individual to decide, leap, let go, etc.
) Therefore, as worship is a primary environment of the
message of Christianity, a primary environment for bridging
the space-time gap, the worship environment must be conducive to the subjective moment for the individual in which
one finds within oneself new depths of joy, peace, assurance,
confidence, insight, etc. When this inward experience is felt,
then one says, “I’m getting fed.”
) Meanwhile, since both the conversion and growth
stages of the Christian life are subjective in nature, where the
gospel, the worship life, and the church’s ministry boil down to
having a fortuitous impact on one’s psychological state, it is
necessary to get away from the dangers of total subjectivity by
turning to the Bible as a repository of objective principles for
Christian living. Thus, sermons in this Evangelical setting,
often labeled “expository sermons, based on the biblical text,”
seek to distill from the text certain valid “biblical principles”
which are then applied to “current issues facing peoples’ lives
as Christians.”
Thus, undergirding the experience of Evangelical worship
is their understanding of the Bible as an inerrant Book of Principles for Living, a Book of the Laws of Life.
B. HOW THE “EVANGELICAL” UNDERSTANDING OF
THE BIBLE AFFECTS WORSHIP
The first connection between modern Evangelicalism and
our own worship life has to do with a common failure among
us to discern the substantial conflict between the Evangelical
and the Lutheran understanding of the Bible. Twenty years ago
we in the LCMS experienced a terrible but inevitable struggle
over the nature of the Bible. And that which prevailed was the
continuation of the historic Christian belief that the Bible is
God’s inerrant word.
Nevertheless, many conservative
Lutheran pastors and congregations
became quite open to worship
influences from the Evangelicals,
despite the fact that the approach to
worship which flows from the
Evangelicals’ understanding of the
Bible is fundamentally different from
the approach to worship which flows
from a Lutheran understanding of the
Bible.
In this struggle, many discovered other Christian believers
who held to the same belief that the Bible was God’s inerrant
word. Most of these others were conservative Christians, such
as Baptists, Mennonites, Charismatics, Pentecostals, Fundamentalists, Christian Reformed, all of whom identify themselves as “Evangelicals.” A new closeness was felt with these fellow Christians, not only because of their regard for the Bible,
but also for their interest in “missions and evangelism,” and a
return to “family values” in society. With this closeness came a
new level of interest in their worship. Something should have


C. HOW THE LUTHERAN UNDERSTANDING OF THE
BIBLE AFFECTS WORSHIP
The Lutheran approach to worship is distinctly different
because the Lutheran understanding of the Bible is not that of
an inerrant book of the Laws of Life, but rather an inerrant
book of Christ, a book which gives life through the gospel of
Christ. As Luther put it: “The Bible is the cradle that brings us
Christ.” Therefore, to the Evangelical understanding of the
Bible, with its subjectivelyoriented worship, the Lutheran must
say: “But this is not biblical Christianity!” And when asked,
“How do you know?” we must respond, “We know from the
way in which the New Testament church used the Old Testament.” The New Testament nowhere draws principles for living out of the Old Testament, unless it means to sharpen and
Thus, undergirding the experience of
Evangelical worship is their
understanding of the Bible as an
inerrant Book of Principles for Living,
a Book of the Laws of Life.
broaden them as to clearly accuse one and all of sin, so as to
drive us to Christ. In other words, even as with the use of Old
Testament law in service to the gospel, the New Testament
everywhere draws on the Old Testament as that which points
to Christ and the gospel. In so grounding the entirety of biblical revelation in the person and work of Christ, the Bible as the
book of life in Christ rejects the subjectivity of feelings, decisions and leaps of faith, and instead offers objectivity, real outside-of-us assurance and focus for life.
From this book of life in Christ comes a different answer
to the space-time gap. Christ ordained his church to bring to
us, through time and space, his own objective forgiveness and
power. The proclaimed gospel, holy Absolution, holy Baptism,
the Eucharist are the objective things which Christ has instituted and supplied to us in the environment of his church at worship. These objective things shape our worship. Christ comes,
in our worship, through his means. We bring nothing about; it
doesn’t matter whether we feel anything or not. Christ,
through his means, proclaimed and administered through the
church’s ministry, bridges the space-time gap.
The most objective grace of all is the Lord’s Supper. Here,
under the objective realities of bread and wine, is hidden not
only the divinity of Christ but also his humanity. But the biblical promise of Christ himself, that his body and blood are there
for us Christians to eat and to drink, bestows on us Christ’s
objective grace and real forgiveness.
D. EVANGELICALISM VS. LUTHERANISM ON THE GOSPEL
At the very center of the difference between Evangelical
worship and Lutheran worship (not to mention the difference
between the Evangelical and the Lutheran understandings of
the Bible), is a subtle but important distinction in the under-
standing of the gospel. In Evangelical theology, the gospel is
information—information that there is forgiveness in Christ
and information on what to do to be assured about forgiveness. In Lutheran theology, the gospel is the actual delivery of
the forgiveness of sins in its very proclamation. Each form of
the gospel delivers this forgiveness in its own unique way. Baptism brings forgiveness into my life history. The proclaimed
gospel brings forgiveness to my ears and mind. Absolution
brings forgiveness to my conscience. The Sacrament of the
Altar brings forgiveness, life and salvation to my very body.
The distinction operative here between the Evangelical and the
Lutheran understanding of the gospel can be illustrated by the
following example. Grandfather sent you a letter which tells
you that he will give you $,. You take the letter to the bank,
only to discover that the bank, while happy over your good
fortune, will not recognize your grandfather’s letter as legal
tender. Grandfather’s letter provides information about the
$, but it does not provide the $,. On the other hand,
when Grandfather’s letter includes a cashier’s check for $,,
Grandfather has not only given information, he has delivered
the money itself. The Evangelical view of the gospel treats it as
information only; the Lutheran view understands that the
gospel, in its objective forms, delivers the forgiveness itself.
These differences concerning the proper understanding
and use of the Bible, and especially concerning the gospel itself,
are determinative of the nature of the worship life we find in
the church. Lutherans understand that we have in the church’s
worship that which truly deserves the label “the full gospel,”
for the true full gospel is proclamation, Baptism and Eucharist
—Spirit, water and blood. Our worship is “full gospel worship”
when it is objective, with Christ, gospel and sacraments set at
the very center of church life; and the space-time gap is objectively bridged right where we gather in worship. But if, as the
Evangelicals assume, there is no such thing as this Lutheran
kind of “full gospel,” then there is only one alternative for our
worship experience. If gospel, Baptism and Eucharist don’t
actually bridge the space-time gap, then the church must do
what stimulates the interest, the emotions, the feelings, to
bridge the gap. If the full gospel of word and sacrament is
silenced so as not to beckon sinners to come unto Christ, then
the church must draw notoriety to itself for the sake of beckoning sinners, for the sake of the message to be communicated,
and for the “feeding of the flock.” This temptation to ministry
by notoriety is at the heart of the temptation of Christ in the
wilderness! Thus it is that previously alien and unknown practices have invaded Lutheran worship, including the following
actual occurrences in Lutheran congregations:
a) An Easter Eucharist, with champagne for the chalice,
where the following responsive sentences were included: Pastor—“This is the feast of the Resurrection. Christ is risen.”
(The cork is “popped” off the champagne bottle.) People—
“He is risen indeed”;
b) A “Clown Communion Service” where the pastor
dresses as Bozo;
c) An “Annual Polka Communion Service” where the
entire congregation dresses Bavarian;
d) A “Relaxed Communion Service” where the pastor
     

dresses only in shorts and casual shirt “because of the heat so
that we can all relax as we receive communion.”
If in our worship we are dealing only with the reminders
of the “then and there,” if we are dealing only with a gospel of
information, and if we are dealing only with a Bible of Laws for
Living, then perhaps a clown suit, a pair of clergy shorts, or a
champagne bottle might help bridge the gap. But if what we
have in word and sacraments around which we gather is in fact
the real thing, the true “full gospel,” the real presence of the
incarnate Christ here and now, then clowning around only distracts from the real thing!
their differentiation from their family, they adopt the clothes,
the attitudes and the specialized language of their peers. (And
woe to the parent who attempts to co-opt the differentiation by
adopting the latest language style of their teenage offspring!)
Clearly, the realm of shared experience and language serves as
the bedrock of group cohesiveness.
Berger and Luckmann identify the second level of subculture cohesion as the realm of commonly held maxims, or
declared truths, which inform the world view of those in the
subculture. These commonly held maxims serve as the slogans
to remind us of what differentiates us from them. Every social
organism capable of sustaining its life in the midst of cross-cultural experiences, and capable of reproducing itself in the
midst of intergenerational experiences, furthers that capability
by the functioning of declared truths which define the cognitive parameters of group identity, which truths the members of
the social organism accept, assert and restate (or, as we Lutherans would put it, “believe, teach and confess”).
Finally, Berger and Luckmann identify the third level of
subculture cohesion as the realm of recognized expert influence. Social organisms which exhibit intercultural and intergenerational staying power have recognized experts, whose role
it is to clarify and explain the declared truths, to oversee the
passing on of language, experience and maxims to subsequent
generations, and to interpret the appropriate group interaction
with, and response to, outside influences and other cultures.
IV. THE LUTHERAN LITURGY
AND TRANSCULTURAL CHRISTIANITY
At Zion Evangelical Lutheran Church of Fort Wayne, as a
central element of an urban ministry, we focus on the use of
the historic Lutheran liturgy and a highlighted sacramental
focus in worship. The most basic reason we do so is simply that
it is the proper thing for Lutherans everywhere to be doing.
That is the case I have attempted to set forth in Part III above.
However, that is not the end of the story. A second reason
that we are addressing the challenge of inner-city ministry by
focusing on the worship life of our cosmopolitan congregation
is because the historic Christian liturgy serves to inculcate the
realities of transcultural Christianity by engendering a cohesiveness among the members of the congregation. This cohesion, created over time, connects members of the congregation
both to each other and to the church through history. All
churchly cohesion depends upon the work of the Holy Spirit, is
based upon the unity of the church in Christ, and is furthered
by mutual trust in the gospel. Yet it also is true that such cohesion among Christians manifests itself in certain interpersonal
realms which we can discern and encourage. Three such interpersonal realms have been identified and analyzed in the seminal work on the question of how subcultures develop their
cohesiveness, The Social Construction of Reality, by Peter Berger
and Thomas Luckmann (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday and
Co., , ). I intend to draw on the work of Berger and
Luckmann in order to illustrate how it is that these three
realms of interpersonal cohesion are involved in the liturgical
life of the historic Christian church.
A. THREE FACTORS OF COHESION
Berger and Luckmann research the way in which social
organisms form, live, and reproduce themselves over generations. They have identified a three-level social organization
which provides the cohesiveness for intergenerational and otherwise cross-cultural life of a given social organism. The most
basic level for social cohesion is that realm of shared experience
and language. This principle is easily affirmed, being recognized as an element of interpersonal cohesion in every human
set of relationships from the family to this year’s most desirable
high school clique. People stick together by shared languages
and shared experiences. In family studies, we call shared experiences “family bonding.” When teenagers attempt to express
B. COHESION FACTORS APPLIED TO THE CHURCH
These three factors of social cohesion illustrate how the
church holds together as an interpersonal organism. Let us first
take the shared experience of worship. This cannot be just any
form or expression of worship, or the subculture of focus
moves from historic Christianity to religion in general. Furthermore, if forms or expressions of worship major in the
shared experience of a particular subculture of a particular
community, worship subtly moves even further away from the
shared experience of historic Christianity, toward a mere religious flavoring for the otherwise secular community subculture.
. . . the historic Christian liturgy serves
to inculcate the realities of
transcultural Christianity by
engendering a cohesiveness among the
members of the congregation.
Now, perhaps one might argue that such a situation is fine,
in that it allows opportunity within the secular community to
invite people into a setting where the gospel can be proclaimed
and the Holy Spirit can work. In the short run, such might be
the outcome. But in the long run, which requires some intergenerational transmission process, a church cuts out one third
of that transmission process by forsaking the shared experience
of the church’s past, from which they received the gospel in the


first place. Let me at this point paraphrase the wonderful
observation of G.K. Chesterton, namely that the church is the
one true democracy in the world because she does not disenfranchise her members simply because they happen to be dead!
The Christian church herself is the gathering, over history, of
the faithful around the word and sacraments. She has a long
history. She is a single organism. She is today comprised not
only of believers on earth but also, as we remind ourselves each
week in the preface to the Lord’s Supper, “all the company of
heaven.” As members of the church in these last days of the
th century, we must recognize that we are always the new
kids on a very long and very well-populated block, when it
comes to matters of church life. In understanding what is
involved with our shared language as a transcultural organism,
it must include due regard for the shared language of worship
which has extended over time and space. That shared language
includes the historic Christian liturgy.
Evangelicals tend to expect these
commonly held maxims to involve
how-to or fix-it sermons, complete
with a closing altar call.
The second level in Berger and Luckmann’s thesis on
social cohesion involves the realm of commonly held declared
truths. Most people, from the streets to the media to the comedy stage, can mimic and make fun of various types of preaching. This activity “works” because people come to expect certain types of declared truths from the pulpit. Evangelicals tend
to expect these commonly held maxims to involve how-to or
fix-it sermons, complete with a closing altar call. This is so for
reasons we have discussed above. But, what sort of declared
truths come out of a worship life shaped by the shared experience of the historic Christian church? The answer is: the
gospel, for only the gospel has sustained the church through
both centuries of time and countless episodes of heresy. The
affirmations which ought to be second nature to the members
of the community, which ought to be disturbingly missed in
their absence, comprise the proclamation of the gospel, the
declaration of the forgiveness of sins, the actual affirmations of
the real presence of the real Christ and his real forgiveness, life
and salvation.
Berger and Luckmann’s third level of social cohesion
involves the realm of recognized expert influence. The recognized expert influence for the church, formally speaking, is the
prophetic and apostolic Scriptures. As Lutheran Christians, we
express our understanding of what the Scriptures teach in the
Lutheran Confessions. And in terms of the daily life of the congregation, these sources of the recognized expert influences are
sustained among us through the teaching function of the office
of the holy ministry. It is the pastor’s responsibility to clarify
and explain the “declared truths” of the gospel, to oversee the
passing on of language, experience and maxims of the church
to subsequent generations, and to interpret the appropriate
interaction on the part of congregational members with, and
their response to, outside influences and other cultures.
The pastor must do this, not on the basis of his own interests, abilities, or insights, but on the basis of his ordination and
installation vows of fidelity to the Scriptures and the Lutheran
Confessions. Thus, the pastor takes a role in the worship services which is supported by his wider activities in and among
the members of the congregation. If his is to be the working of
this third level of social cohesion while in the worship services,
then his wider functions among members must be one in
which he majors in the teaching role (broadly understood) of
clarifying and explaining the gospel, overseeing Christian education in the congregation, and inculcating in future generations (both the young and the newly initiated into the life of
the congregation) a growing regard for the life, history, teachings and ways of the one holy, catholic, and apostolic church.
In Scriptural terms, this role for the pastor is that of bishop. If
the pastor chooses to assume some other role in his interactions with the congregation, be it the roles of “Herr Pastor,”
“Big Daddy,” “Good Buddy,” “Fuzzy Wuzzy,” “Chief Poobah,”
or just “Mr. Step-n-fetch-it” for the congregation, this third
realm of social cohesion will direct people’s interests and commitments away from the transcultural nature of their congregational life, toward some more social or personal wants and
needs. And the congregation, as church, slowly devolves into
the congregation as a merely human and temporary special
interest society.
C. IMPLICATIONS OF THE FACTORS OF COHESION
These observations concerning the three levels of social
cohesion also serve to enlighten us on what it is that happens at
each level. At the first level, the effect of the shared experience is
not to inform but to absorb. The desired effect of the liturgy is
that, over time, the participants become absorbed in the experiences and language of the church. The technical term for this
level of shared experience is leitourgia. At the second level, the
effect of the declared truth is not to teach, but to proclaim. The
gospel’s desired effect is that, over time, the participants become
more and more aware of the forgiveness of sins as an environmental reality in their lives through the church service. The technical term for this level of commonly held truth is kerygma. At
the third level, the effect of the “expert influence” is to provide
cognitive perspective on all that they experience both in and outside of the transcultural experience as the church. The technical
term for this level of expert influence is didache.
What is unique about Lutheran worship is at the very least
the formal acceptance of the orthodox content of the three levels discussed above. There are three other expressions of the
historic liturgy to which our people might be exposed: Roman
Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, and Episcopal/Anglican. All share
some reasonable facsimile of the leitourgia. What has been
altered in each of these other expressions is one or more of the
other two realms. Roman Catholicism has altered the kerygma,
both Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy have versions of the didache which are expanded by non-scriptural
sources of “holy tradition,” and the Episcopal Church largely
has lost both kerygma and didache. Today, however, the jury is
     

out as to whether the Lutheran advantage here will be merely
formal rather than actually present in the congregations.
One final caveat. There is much written and spoken these
days about increased mobility on the part of our members,
combined with a decreasing sense of denominational loyalty. I
do not intend to defend denominationalism, per se. But I
think that we need to understand among our members the
decreasing sense of loyalty to one’s confirmation vows to suffer
all, even death, rather than to fall away from this church, that is
the church of the Lutheran Confessions. I believe this decline
in loyalty, this increased potential in our members to churchshop and church-swap across confessional boundaries, is
explained by the loss of cohesion as discussed in this paper.
When the liturgy is abandoned for that which seems contemporary and attractive for the moment, and when the gospel
gets displaced or sidelined by the proclamation of such topical
wonders as “How to Pray More Successful Prayers,” and such
expository gems as “Principles for Balancing Your Budget
According to Proverbs,” and when pastors take the role upon
themselves of being anything and everything but the apostolic
representative of Christ among the members of the congregation, then it is no wonder that the cohesiveness is gone, and the
members’ children, if not the members themselves, are likely
to wander into other pastures.
not as an add-on option, but as the place where the entire sermon was heading from the beginning. Hymns, anthems, etc.,
also aim at this goal of gospel predominance.
V. CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS
A. APPLICATIONS IN THE REALM OF LEITOURGIA
As we plan for the worship life of our congregation, the
historic liturgy becomes a key element for inculcating a sense
of transcultural oneness in the congregation and with the
church at large. Liturgical and sacramental influences in worship draw us, over time, into a sense of community with the
one holy, catholic and apostolic church. Liturgical worship (or
“high church” as it is often described by those who would disparage it) provides this most basic realm of interpersonal
cohesion in a way that no other strategy for conducting worship can do. In our experience at Zion, adult converts have
observed, repeatedly and independently, that they have “found
their roots” in the worship life of the congregation.
B. APPLICATIONS IN THE REALM OF KERYGMA
The sermonic material presented at Zion intends continually to major in proclamation. Certainly there are some didactic aspects to most sermons, and occasionally a sermon may be
significantly didactic (usually with regard to some catechetical
theme). But always we seek to apply the advice of C.F.W.
Walther that the “gospel should have general predominance”
in the congregation. To this end, our sermons do not use the
gospel as the tool for the greater goal of Christian living, Christian giving, or what have you. The gospel ends each sermon,
C. APPLICATIONS IN THE REALM OF DIDACHE
The way the pastor understands himself influences the
way he conducts himself. Many people have their own ideas of
who the pastor is or ought to be. Some of these many ideas are
to be found in my congregation. Fine! I hope they will learn a
different view. But these collections of society-influenced views
of the pastoral office do not shape my view. The Lutheran
Confessions identify the nature of the pastoral office, and
therefore, as Christ’s representative, as the bishop of souls, as
the current occupant of the apostolic office of the ministry at
Zion, I seek to conduct my entire ministry in such a way that
my presence in the worship service scripturally and confessionally fills the realm of “recognized expert influence,” with
the result of encouraging further cohesiveness among the
members of the congregation, thus furthering the transcultural
character of this congregation.
D. TWO ANECDOTAL OBSERVATIONS
A long-time member of Zion has noted a change in seating patterns of worshipers over the past five years. Five years
ago, he observed, most of our black members sat in the back of
the church. Now, they are much more spread out within the
building. I might add that no effort, formal or informal, has
been conducted to integrate the seating pattern at Zion. I
believe that the change in worship life to emphasize the
“shared experience” of the historic liturgy has influenced subtle changes in attitudes within the congregation. I also believe
that the reintroduction of the Lutheran Reformation practice,
every-Sunday Communion in our main service, has encouraged such changes in attitudes.
Several years ago, my wife and children visited Grandmother over a weekend, and together they attended services in
a small LCMS congregation. During the singing of the Gloria
in Excelsis, my youngest son, then about three years old, began
to pull on his mother’s arm. When she turned to him, somewhat disgusted for the interruption, he told her, “Jesus not
here!” After a few seconds of puzzling, my wife realized that
this little one had noticed the absence of a feature of the liturgical life of his home congregation, namely the procession of
the cross of Christ through the nave and into the chancel during the entrance hymn/Introit. While missing the point that
Christ is present among us at worship by his promise, not by
our actions (even actions of the processional), my young son
had discerned, without any lessons in liturgics, the symbolical
message of the processional cross. His sense of place and purpose in the worship life of the congregation was being shaped
by the liturgical actions in the Divine Service as they were
being absorbed through his participation.
LOGIA
The Method of Meta-Church
The Point of Truth and the Points that Trouble
KENNETH W. WIETING
j
“META-CHURCH” HAS BECOME COMMONPLACE.
“Meta” means change, and the change envisioned by
this process is that cell groups of approximately 
people become the central unit in the life of the church. Carl F.
George’s Prepare Your Church for the Future is the foundational writing for the Meta-Church philosophy. This philosophy is
increasingly being discussed in Lutheran denominations,
whether ELCA, ELS, LCMS, or WELS. This paper is in
response to George’s book, to a Meta workshop entitled
“Developing an Effective Small Group Ministry,” and to the
video entitled “Church Extension through Leadership Development.”
T
as pastor make committed and even organized efforts to befriend and invite others to receive the gifts of God in word and
sacrament. I pray that God multiplies such efforts in his church.
HE TERM
THE POINTS THAT TROUBLE
But there are serious problems with seeing the MetaMethod as the instrument for that multiplication. These problems begin with its scriptural base and they extend to its treatment of such doctrines as the pastoral office and the ministry,
worship, prayer, and ultimately the very focus of the life of the
church itself—the gospel.
This paper does not take issue with the importance of
Christians showing love to one another: a love that sees an
“empty chair,” a love that forgives, a love that includes
accountability. And this paper does not deny that those who
have embraced George’s book may have done so with a sense
of urgency and a sincere desire to do more in the areas of outreach and inreach within the church.
But this paper does deny that the Meta-Method shows the
tender love and care that it trumpets for itself. This paper does
deny that the Meta-Method can be harmonized with the Scriptures and our Lutheran Confessions. Meta’s philosophy of
changing the gifts of God to meet felt human needs is, at the
deepest level, a denial of God’s tender love and care.
THE POINT OF TRUTH
In this age of individualism, of apathetic and mindless
staring at an idol called TV, of the disintegration of the family,
of the energetic pursuit of trivia (sports, possessions, fashions,
fun), the “felt need” described by the Meta-Method philosophy
is indeed a point of suffering.
That basic “felt need” stems from the fact that there are
many individuals who do not have a close circle of care and
support. There are many individuals who do not communicate
regularly or significantly with others. There are many individuals who feel little sense of accountability to parents or family or
fellow Christians. That Christian congregations should be
aware of this reality is important. That Christian individuals
should have an attitude of invitation and welcome and caring
service to newcomers is also important. That those gifted with
God’s love and forgiveness in word and sacrament should have
the desire to assist in connecting others to God’s gifts is both
God-given and God-pleasing. That those so connected should
show committed acts of love to one another is good and right
and proper. As the post-communion collect expresses it, “We
give thanks to you, Almighty God, that you have refreshed us
through this salutary gift, and we implore you that of your
mercy you would strengthen us through the same in faith
toward you and in fervent love toward one another; through
Jesus Christ, your Son, our Lord. . . .” I rejoice as those I serve
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KENNETH W. WIETING is pastor of Luther Memorial Chapel, Shorewood, Wisconsin.

THE POINTS THAT TROUBLE: SCRIPTURE
The foundational Scripture passage for the Meta-Church
model is Exodus :-. At the suggestion of his father-inlaw Jethro, Moses appointed able men (who feared God, who
hated dishonest gain, who were men of truth) to be heads over
the people in groups of tens and fifties and hundreds and thousands. These leaders were appointed to judge the minor disputes so that only the difficult disputes came to Moses.
The word for “judge” used here is “Shaphat” and in this
context it has the sense of deciding controversies and laying
down the law. The people came to Moses as God’s visible representative with matters of contention and uncertainty. And
with a few hundred thousand sinners contending for “their
rights,” the case-load had debilitating effects. The docket was
overflowing. As Jethro expressed it in verse , “You will surely
wear out, both yourself and these people who are with you, for
the task is too heavy for you; you cannot do it alone.”
   -
That God cared about such matters is clear to see in the
commandments he would soon give regarding stealing and
coveting and marriage (Ex ). But this conflict resolution in
social affairs was not central to the kingdom work of Jesus.
When the man requested Jesus to make his brother divide the
inheritance with him, Jesus’ response was, “Man, who appointed me a decider (judge) or divider (arbiter) over you?” (Lk
:,).
It was in this political realm of Israel’s life, her life as a
nation with societal needs and governing problems, that Moses
appointed judges over the smaller groups. The Keil-Delitzsch
Commentary notes that these men were heads over thousands,
hundreds, fifties and tens in the manner of a military organization on the march. Keil-Delitzsch also notes that these divisions were according to the fathers (heads) of families and
leaders of the tribes of families. In Arabic, for example, the
term “the ten” is used to signify a family. Numbers : and
Deuteronomy :- are biblical commentaries on these
groupings.
When we understand this background, the application
which the Meta-Method makes of this passage reveals itself as a
misapplication. From male heads of families and tribes deciding matters of contention in the civil realm, the Meta-Method
extrapolates application to male or female leaders of cells (different from family) in the spiritual realm. Thus, the MetaMethod somehow changes judges of civil law into ministers of
the gospel.
Closely related to this misapplication is an omission of
what is recorded in Exodus  and . It was here that Aaron
and the Levites were set apart to be the priestly ministers of the
gospel. This omission in the Meta literature and the misapplication of Exodus  noted above are key factors in the unscriptural redefinition of the office of the holy ministry that takes
place under the Meta-Method. That area will be addressed in a
later section.
It is important to note one more key point before leaving
our consideration of Exodus :-. While Moses did delegate the judging of items of contention to the heads of families
and chiefs of tribes, he retained for himself the instruction of
the people in the statutes of God and the way they must walk
(verse ).
A second biblical basis given for the Meta-Method is
found in Acts :. It reads, “And every day, in the temple and
from house to house they kept right on teaching and preaching
Jesus as the Christ.” In this verse, “they” clearly refers to the
apostles, who in verse  were flogged and ordered to speak no
more in the name of Jesus. But rejoicing that they had been
considered worthy to suffer shame for his name, they (that is
the apostles) kept right on teaching Jesus as the Christ in the
temple and from house to house.
This passage describes the public proclamation of the
word in the temple by the apostles. It also describes instruction
in the house churches by the apostles. There is nothing in these
verses about lay-led instruction in cell groups as the foundation for the church. In fact, these verses make it very clear that
it was not lay leaders but rather the apostles doing the teaching,
even house to house (see also Acts :).

One presenter at the Meta workshop spoke of understanding Isaiah : in light of Acts :. Isaiah : reads, “Yet
those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will
mount up with wings like eagles.” It was the vision of this presenter that the early Christian church knew no bounds because
like the eagle in Isaiah : it had two wings. One wing was
public worship and the other was lay-led small groups meeting
house to house. He said that when Christianity became legalized under Constantine, it became associated with a building
and lost the cell groups. This was set forth as the reason that
“everything went downhill from there.”
Contrary to this vision, students of church history understand that the early church did in fact know many bounds.
Right from the start, the church was beset with divisions and
suffering and set-backs. A fair reading of Acts : also shows
that it was not lay-led cell groups which were spoken of here. It
was rather instruction by the apostles, house to house. The
vision of this Meta presenter concerning the two wings of Isaiah : is not based upon a scriptural exegesis of that text.
And the same holds true for Acts :. Any attempts to introduce lay-led cell groups into the context of this verse are artificial attempts that run contrary to what is clearly described.
What was happening in Acts : was rather a joyous continuation of what is described in Acts :.; that is, the early church
was mightily devoted to the apostles’ doctrine and the Lord’s
Supper, and the prayers and the fellowship that grew from
these gifts. This apostle-led word-and-sacrament ministry was
present in house churches.
. . . the application which the MetaMethod makes of this passage reveals
itself as a misapplication.
THE POINTS THAT TROUBLE:
THE PASTORAL OFFICE AND THE MINISTRY
Once you have read the apostles out of their teaching
office and Moses out of his teaching responsibilities in Exodus
:, the redefinition of the pastoral office in the MetaMethod follows in close order.
Augustana XIV describes the work of the called pastor as
preaching and teaching and administering the sacraments.
But the Meta-Method does not see the administration of the
mysteries of God (his word and sacraments) as the purpose for
the pastors God calls to serve his people. Both the book and
the Meta workshop spoke of the pastor’s role as “vision casting” and “goal imaging.” George compares the senior pastor to a chief executive officer (CEO) and states, “the CEO’s
greatest resource is the broadcast of vision at worship services,
at staff meetings, and at VHS gatherings.” He describes what
he means by vision casting on page . There he explains that
“vision” centers on the importance of cell-group ministry.
Vision casting includes such exhortations as, “Go for it. Make


it happen! Believe the Lord for great things!”
Contrast this Meta picture of a pastor with the picture set
forth in the ordination rite in the Lutheran Agenda. It
includes such Scripture passages as  Timothy :-, :-, 
Timothy :,  Peter :-, and Acts :. Herein God sets
forth that a pastor is to be the husband of but one wife and able
to teach. Herein the pastor-to-be is reminded that he is to
watch his life and his doctrine closely because if he perseveres
in them, he will save both himself and his hearers. Herein the
pastor-to-be is admonished to preach the word, in season and
out of season, to correct, rebuke, and encourage with patient
instruction. Herein the pastor-to-be is admonished to be a
shepherd of the church of God, to guard himself and the flock
that is under his care.
The shepherding role of the pastor as
set forth in the Scriptures has really
dissolved into the management
techniques and vision-casting abilities
of a chief executive officer.
Among other things, the pastor-to-be is asked if he will
faithfully instruct both young and old in the chief articles of
Christian doctrine and if he will forgive the sins of those who
repent. The pastor-to-be is also asked if he will conform his
teaching and life to the Lutheran Confessions as these are
found in the Book of Concord. Augustana V holds that God
instituted the office of the ministry, that is, he provided the
gospel and the sacraments. Through these as through means,
he gives the Holy Spirit, who works faith, when and where he
pleases in those who hear the gospel.
This scriptural picture of a pastor from the ordination rite
cannot be harmonized with the sociological picture of a pastor
as set forth by the Meta-Method. Consider the following differences. While the Scriptures exhort the pastors to shepherd
faithfully, the Meta-Method stresses that lay people do the pastoring. While the scriptural base for a pastor’s ordination
stresses teaching, the Meta-Method places teaching and pastoring in opposition and stresses that pastoring supersedes teaching. While the Lutheran Confessions speak of the ministry as
the administration of the gospel and the sacraments, the MetaMethod speaks of ministry as caregiving in cells one to
another. The senior pastor or professional worker in this
model is the vision caster. And the first priority of this visionary professional is not preaching Christ crucified (1 Cor :). It
is rather the promotion and multiplication of small groups.
While the ordination rite stresses the shepherd’s supervision of
the souls in the flock given to his care, the Meta-Method states
that “pastors are sometimes afraid to commission lay ministers
to supervise cells for fear they will lose their strokes for being
the only chief.” While the Bible states that God appointed
some to be pastors and teachers (one office—Eph :), the
Meta-Method states, “In times past, ministry has been focused
on a title, a role, or a job description. . . . Now more importance
is paid to the need for ministry which can be done by anyone
from the community of ministers known as the church.”
The Meta-Method is of course using the word “ministry”
in a very broad way. Unlike Augustana V, the word “ministry” is taken without the definite article and applied to any
avenue of loving service or caring support. And in fairness, this
is done frequently by many who mean well by such use and
who do at the same time treasure and faithfully contend for the
office of the holy ministry.
But one result of unclear talk about the ministry is seen in
the conclusions of the Meta-Method. The shepherding role of
the pastor as set forth in the Scriptures has really dissolved into
the management techniques and vision casting abilities of a
chief executive officer. As George stated on page , “Everyone needs a new perception of paid pastors.”
The BFMS Meta video made the additional statement
that some feel only those who have risen from an X (leader of
ten) to an L (leader of fifty) to a D (administrator who can
resource five hundred people) should go to the seminaries.
Since the X’s and L’s and D’s can be male or female, this does
not speak clearly or lovingly about the unscriptural action of
women assuming the office of the pastor.
In addition, this societally based Meta requirement would
have prevented such prophets of God as Noah and Jeremiah
from studying at our seminaries. Their faithfulness in preaching the word of God notwithstanding, they just didn’t have the
management training and vision-casting skills to fill the ark or
the pews. They simply weren’t X’s who could acquire followers.
The continual emphasis on a cell made up of ten or fewer
people in the Meta-Method caused me to give considerable
thought to a particular cell of eight people in the Bible. When
the glorious claim was made for the Meta-Method that it is “a
blueprint for unlimited growth,” it caused me to ask what
Noah had done wrong. He was a preacher of righteousness (
Pt :) with a cell of eight. And his cell saw no numerical
growth and multiplication through decades of his faithful leadership and service. Did Noah have no love and give no thought
to an “empty chair” in his cell as he proclaimed the gospel
and built God’s ark? And do we give no thought to the Bible’s
witness that as it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the
coming of the Son of Man (Mt :ff.)? And do we give no
thought that God’s salvation of the eight in the flood “corresponds exactly” to baptism that now saves us ( Pt :,)?
Any talk about preparing the church for the future in
Noah’s day was centered on the ark and the flood. And any talk
about preparing the church for the future in our day must be
centered in baptism, the “antitype” of God’s salvation of eight
in the flood. In sharp contrast, George gives the sacrament of
baptism only passing reference. His sweeping doctrinal innovations are not unrelated to his description of baptism as a
token of the community’s acceptance. This replacement of
God’s sacraments with sociological methods does not show
tender love and care to Christ’s church. Such treatment of baptism and the ministry by George highlights the foundational
differences between the Meta-Method and our Lutheran Confessions. They are, in fact, differences that penetrate to our very
understanding of the gospel itself.
   -
THE POINTS THAT TROUBLE: THE GOSPEL
Romans : describes the gospel as the power of God for
the salvation of all who believe. Romans : states that faith
comes by hearing and hearing by the word of Christ. Those
who believe the gospel are to love one another, but the power
for faith is the gospel of Christ, not the love of the people. Contrary to this, the Meta workshop held forth a model mission
statement that, in effect, made our love the power of salvation.
The heart of that model was this statement: “It is our goal in
everything we do to love people to Christ.” That goal makes
the gospel of Jesus Christ a new law. The claim that we can
“love people to Christ” is really a different gospel. It trumpets
the thought that the gospel is something we do rather than
something God has done in Christ and now freely gives. The
focus is, without question, off Christ’s action and on the Christian’s action.
But the gospel is Christ’s action, not ours. It was his action
in the past and it is his action in the present. The gospel is not
only Christ’s winning of our redemption on Calvary, but also
his distribution of the gifts of forgiveness that he won for us
there. And just as the incarnate Word laid himself humbly in a
manger and swaddling clothes at Bethlehem, so the incarnate
Christ lays himself humbly in water and bread and wine and
word today. The sacraments are the “visible word” as we confess in Apology XIII.
The Holy Lamb of God, about to step to the cross to shed
his holy precious blood, distributed that same blood to his disciples. And he said “keep on doing this.” The gospel is not our
love but his love coming so close as to feed us with the very
body and blood once sacrificed on the cross. And the testimonial given as his love works in this way is not about our lives,
but about his death ( Cor :). And yet in the face of this
miracle, people yawn and our sinful natures kick and squirm
and whine. And program after program gives sixty-second lip
service to the miracle of the visible word while spending sixty
minutes or six hours or thousands of dollars in other places.
Our Confessions make clear that the gospel is outside of us
and that our works cannot do what God has ordained the
gospel to do. Apology VII/VIII helps us understand the amazing
nature of the gospel as it describes its relationship to the ministry: “We confess . . . that the sacraments are efficacious even
when evil men administer them, for the ministers act in
Christ’s stead and do not represent their own person, according to the Word (Lk :), ‘He who hears you hears Me.’” A
pastor’s faith or feeling does not add to or take away from the
efficacy of the gospel rightly preached and the sacraments
rightly administered. Christ is present to feed his people where
he has promised to be. He works through the means of grace
with such tender love and care that even the unworthiness of
his servants does not weaken the gift.
While the Bible repeatedly encourages us to love one
another and others, neither pastors nor their parishioners have
the power to “love people to Christ.” To claim for ourselves the
power that God attributes to the gospel is not showing tender
love and care to our Lord or his church. And tragically, such a
claim pulls our attention away from God’s loving service to us,
his gospel gifts.

THE POINTS THAT TROUBLE: WORSHIP
That’s why the center of the church’s life is worship and
not the cell group and not even our own earthly families.
That’s why worship among us has always been called the
Divine Service (Gottesdienst). In worship, God serves us with
the life-giving and life-sustaining gifts of his gospel. This truth
is not apparent to common sense or to the “felt needs” of
human emotions. And, as will be shown, it is a truth that is
denied by the Meta-Method.
Our confessions state that the chief worship of God is to
acknowledge our sins and to seek forgiveness, and to receive
God’s offered blessings. They also hold that the chief worship of God is to preach the gospel. For these reasons, baptism is properly included in divine worship, for therein God is
giving himself. The invocation spoken at the beginning of
divine worship simply calls upon the presence of the living
God who gave us his name and his kingdom in our baptismal
waters. Because worship is receiving God’s gifts, confession of
sin and absolution are properly included in our worship. The
forgiveness given is not man’s idea but the gift of Christ given
by the command of Christ. Jesus himself is present and
bestowing the gift—the pastor simply acts in his stead.
In worship Jesus comes to meet us as his gospel is read and
proclaimed. In worship Jesus utterly and totally gives himself
to us in the sacrament of Holy Communion. So often it is said,
“I wish I could get closer to God,” and yet so seldom is it realized or proclaimed that God nowhere promises to come closer
than he does right here—so close, in fact, that the Lord of the
universe feeds us sinners with his body and blood. Divine worship is a step into reality because the Lord of heaven and earth
is present to give his gifts just as he has promised. It is not the
reality of “felt needs.” But it is the reality of “divine presence”
and “divine gifts,” even when our feelings don’t match the
gifts.
Our Confessions make clear that the
gospel is outside of us and that our
works cannot do what God has
ordained the gospel to do.
The Meta-Method, however, takes a “felt needs” approach
also in the realm of worship. George makes these statements
about worship: “Cell groups will seem to lack significance if
they’re not joined to (or alternated with) a praise celebration of
worship.” He compares worship to “participation” in the
cheering at a football game and says, “. . . a sense of significance
emerges in the consciousness of the group, an apprehension
that God is accomplishing something big enough to be worthy
of their involvement and investment. Finally, celebrations provide an opportunity for special events (drama, guest speaker or
musician, and so on) not available to a small group assembled
in a home.”
Thus, in George’s foundational writing for the MetaMethod, worship has nothing to do with the center of life or of

God’s serving us his life-giving gifts. Rather, worship proceeds
from the “felt needs” the cells may have for a sense of significance and for special events—something big enough to be
worthy of their involvement and investment. (One senses that
this distorted perception also affects some who only occasionally worship in our own parishes, and do not feel entertained
or excited by the experience.)
With such a man-centered sociological view of worship,
the life-giving presence of the incarnate Christ could easily be
relegated to an “add on” in mission outreach. It would be consistent with this view to postpone worship until it “feels right”
within a context of human relationships. Such an approach,
however, would be exactly the opposite of that of the early
church which celebrated the liturgy of word and sacrament
religiously as the center of life and as our connection with
heaven. The rigorous catechesis and faithful closed communion practices of the early church did not focus on people’s
“felt needs,” but on their real needs. And yet the greatest
numerical growth of the church came also at this time.
The Meta workshop focused most heavily on worship
within the cell group. The presenter said that cell group worship could include a song, a prayer, a tape, or “you name it,” or
“whatever you dream of, ”or “don’t limit yourselves, be imaginative!”
The BFMS video made the positive statement that divine
worship is the foundation, the place where people receive the
strength they need. However, that one passing remark in an
uncritical, hour-long presentation and endorsement of the
Meta-Method will not greatly assist hearers or readers in sorting out fact from feeling-based fiction.
The BFMS video stated that our choices for the future are
either a program-based church or a people-based church
(Meta). It spoke of these two choices as a spiritual issue and
part of the warfare between Satan and God. Later I would
like to offer a third choice that is directly related to this topic of
worship. That third choice is a promise-based church.
Before going on to the topic of prayer, I would also like to
offer the observation that some of the warfare which the MetaMovement calls for is not against programs. The gospel is not a
program. The ministry is not a program. Divine worship is not
a program. The repeated exhortations within Meta to “trust
the process” do, however, bear witness that Meta itself is a program.
THE POINTS THAT TROUBLE: PRAYER
At the workshop, prayer was emphasized so much that
one listener asked if the reality of word and sacrament wasn’t
being overlooked by the Meta-Method. The presentation on
how prayer was to be done in cells included the following statements. Prayer was said to be the center, the focus, the atmosphere, the glue that holds everything together. Every cell group
meeting was to open with prayer. Every healthy cell group was
to pray for and with its members. Every cell group meeting was
to close with a circle prayer which included the children. This
circle prayer was to be done in all kinds of ways and the participants were to “let their imaginations go.”
These thoughts about free-form prayers in a circle missed

the reality of the first witness to prayer in the New Testament
church. As the Greek text reads in Acts :, the early Christians
were not only devoted to the Apostles’ teaching and to the
Lord’s Supper (breaking of bread) with all their strength, but
they were likewise mightily devoted to “the prayers” (plural).
As the apostles taught and administered the sacrament
house to house, the early Christians were accustomed to pray
not just in any way, but in a certain way. They did in fact have a
liturgy. The psalms of their Old Testament liturgical background no doubt formed the basis of “the prayers.” Acts :
and following is such an example of the early church praying
Psalm .
Divine worship is a step into reality
because the Lord of heaven and earth
is present to give his gifts just as he has
promised.
This is not to condemn the prayers of Christians, one for
another or one with another. But it is to say that when a good
thing (prayer) is elevated above a better thing (God’s word and
sacrament), both things are devalued. It is also to say that when
a circle prayer (in which imaginations are to be let go) is held
up as the centerpiece to the Christian life, something new and
non-scriptural has been introduced. Here, as in other areas, the
Meta-Method has read out of the Scriptures what is there and
read into the Scriptures something that agrees with the sociological emphases of Meta’s philosophy.
It was not by accident that of all the things in the world,
the one thing in which the disciples requested instruction was
prayer. “Lord, teach us how to pray,” they asked (Lk ). And
Jesus did not say, “Use your imagination.” He rather gave them
the prayer of all prayers, the Lord’s Prayer.
THE POINTS THAT TROUBLE: TESTIMONIALS
There are other difficulties with the Meta-Method and its
claims that are serious and far reaching. At the workshop, a
video testimonial was given by an individual who was sincere
and excited about what the cell groups meant to her. She set
forth five ways to “grow your faith” in the cell group and yet
none of the five expressed the one way that God promised to
give and strengthen faith, namely the gospel.
The five steps listed were: ) Challenge each other and set
goals; ) Explain how the Holy Spirit is working in our lives (by
our perception of current experiences); ) Feel the Holy Spirit’s
presence at the meetings (the close-knit group being the evidence); ) Study the Bible as a how-to guide for life; and finally, ) Become involved in other ministries.
With all of the emphasis on the phrase “tender love and
care” in the Meta-Method, one truly hurts that no pastoral tender love and care was given to this individual. A shepherd’s
responsibility to feed and correct was not evident as the law
   -
was credited with the power that is present only in the gospel.
A shepherd’s guiding care was not evident as our common
confession about the Holy Spirit and the means of grace were
sweepingly set aside. One truly hurts also for the snowballing
effect such a testimony can have on the confidence and confession of Christ’s other sheep.
When death comes, our perception of current experiences
will not meet our eternal needs. When death comes, the Bible
as a how-to guide book will not suffice. Story-telling and testimonials are central to the Meta-Method. As is evident in this
example, they have tremendous potential to pull away from
confidence in the word of God, written, audible and visible.
Secular groups and cults also often have a deep sense of closeness and caring love for one another. However, such emotional
closeness and caring support are not certain indications of
God’s presence. Such relationships and current experiences are
not where God asks us to place our confidence. Faith is not
feeling the Holy Spirit’s presence in the closeness of a meeting.
Faith is rather being sure of what we hope for and certain of
what we do not see (Heb :). Faith is receiving God where he
has promised to be (in word and sacrament), even though he is
beyond our sight and sense.
THE POINT OF TRUTH REVISITED
The points of trouble that have been discussed here
(Scripture, the pastoral office and the ministry, the gospel,
worship, prayer, and testimonials) are not an exhaustive look
at the Meta-Method. It is hoped, however, that this look at differences in central areas of the faith will assist readers to more
objectively and carefully consider this philosophy.
As was seen, the claim that the Meta-Method goes back to
a biblical model of lay-led cell groups is not supported by the
Scriptures. And the model of the family that the Bible does set
forth is not discussed by the Meta-Method. The Scriptures do
not speak of an “X” as the head of “ten” after the Method of
Meta. The Scriptures do speak of the husband as the head of
the wife as Christ is the head of the church (Eph :). And
within this context, they speak pointedly of love. “Husbands,
love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (Eph :).
The Scriptures do not speak of lay-led teaching within cell
groups as the center of the spiritual and emotional life of the
church. However, the Scriptures do speak of teaching within
the family. In Ephesians : we read, “Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead bring them up in the training and
instruction of the Lord.” And in Deuteronomy :- we read
that parents are to impress the word of God on their children.
They are to teach and discuss the word of God when they sit at
home and when they travel and when they lie down and when
they get up. Here is not another meeting that keeps families
apart and parents talking to other adults. Here is rather devotion to the apostles’ doctrine in the home throughout the day
and night. Here is what Luther expressed in the headings to the
chief parts of the catechism, “As the head of the family should
teach it in a simple way to his household.”
The Scriptures also mention families in which fathers have
forsaken or not fulfilled their God-given responsibility to teach

their children. Pastor Timothy, for example, received his
Christian formation from his mother Eunice and his grandmother Lois ( Tim :-). The Scriptures do not bear witness
to lay-led cell groups (distinct from family) as the central spiritual and emotional units of the church. Whatever claims are
made for the Meta-Method, this truth must be kept in mind.
The house churches spoken of in Acts were equivalent to
today’s local congregations gathered around word and sacrament.
This does not mean that the church of Christ should not
actively seek to lend spiritual and emotional support outside of
public worship or outside the physical family. This does not
mean that members of the church should be inhospitable to
individuals who have no family or who are in need of help and
support. This has always been the desire of the church as evidenced by the care of the widows as set forth in  Timothy :ff.
There should, in fact, be an “empty chair” attitude within each
family as it gathers around the word of God. There should, in
fact, be a strong desire to include others in receiving the gifts
that Christ gives to his gathered people in worship.
But such efforts should not be efforts of desperation that
set aside central doctrines which Christ has given to his church
out of love. Such efforts should not change the changeless gifts
of the gospel for the sake of felt needs. Such efforts should not
redefine the office of the pastor that God has given to feed his
sheep his gifts of forgiveness. Such efforts should not be based
upon the delusion that the change which confronts baby
boomers today is deeper and more drastic than the change
which confronted the early church.
The Scriptures do not speak of lay-led
teaching within cell groups as the
center of the spiritual and emotional
life of the church. However, the
Scriptures do speak of teaching within
the family.
Consider for a moment the changes in the first-century
church. Consider the change from temple worship to the house
churches. Consider the change from expecting the Messiah to
come to eating his body and drinking his blood until he comes
again ( Cor :). Consider the tremendous change from the
Sabbath day to the Lord’s day as a time to rest and gather for
worship. Consider the change brought about by persecution
and flight from one’s home for the sake of the gospel (Acts ).
Consider the change brought about by the rebellion against
Rome and the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. . Consider the
change as the eye witnesses of our Lord’s life (the apostles) one
by one laid their burden down, as they were martyred for the
faith. Consider also the immorality ( Cor ) and the false
gospels (Galatians) that threatened the early church on every
side. Surely our generation has no monopoly on change or on
“felt needs.”
But amid all this change and decay, amid the suffering so

constant and so deep, amid all the threats to the faith, consider
also the center of life for the early church. As generation after
generation lived and died, the treasures of God remained the
same. The forgiveness, life and salvation earned by our Lord’s
perfect life and sacrificial death were bestowed upon his people. They were bestowed through the humble means to which
he had connected his promise. They were bestowed through
human instruments (pastors) whom he called to serve his people.
PROGRAMS, PEOPLE, OR PROMISE
Finally I would like to focus on the misleading choice that
the Meta-Method holds up between programs and people. I
too believe the church could do with fewer programs. Pastors
and parishioners are often drained of energies by activities and
meetings on every hand. The organizational demands of even
medium-size congregations can pull away from spiritual
responsibilities within vocation and family.
But to picture the future as limited to a choice between
programs on the one hand and people (Meta) on the other
hand is a seriously deficient picture. There is a third choice in
addition to a program-centered church and a people-centered
church. That third choice is a promise-centered church, a
church deeply devoted to God’s promises for the sake of the
people. This promise centered choice for pastors is not “vision
casting,” but responsible public preaching of law and gospel.
This third choice for pastors includes a devotion to the ongoing study of the Bible and to teaching all that Christ commanded (Mt :) both in season and out of season with careful
instruction ( Tim :). This third choice for pastors includes
the celebration of the sacraments according to the Lord’s institution. I believe that efforts to recover the celebration of the
Lord’s Supper as the chief Divine Service every Lord’s day also
come to rest under this choice (Apology XXIV, Luther’s Catechism, and Pastoral Theology). This third choice for pastors means that primary tender love and care efforts are given

to meet the real needs of the people, not the felt needs. This
third choice for pastors means daily repentance and drowning
of the old sinful nature.
This promise centered choice for the people means receiving
God’s gifts in word and sacrament as the center of life and
rejoicing in worship as the place where heaven touches earth.
This third choice for the people means humbly bearing witness
to the hope they have in Christ in the relationships of life and
as they have opportunity ( Pt :). This third choice for the
people means viewing their jobs as gifts from God to support
and build his church on earth through proportionate first-fruit
gifts to the Lord. This third choice for the people means praying the Lord of the harvest to send forth laborers into his harvest. This third choice for the people means showing loving
respect to the shepherds who keep watch over their souls and
who must give an account (Heb :). This third choice for the
people means studying the Bible with their pastors (Acts :).
This third choice for the people means daily repentance and
drowning of the old sinful nature.
This promise centered choice for both pastor and people
means compassion also for the felt needs of others. This third
choice for both pastor and people means counting others as
more important than themselves and looking out not only for
personal interests, but also for the interests of others (Phil
:,). This third choice means loving one another as Christ
has loved us, that is with committed concrete actions.
This promise centered choice is not outwardly impressive.
To the world and even to our feelings it may appear just as
foolish as the building of the ark. It is not something we can
measure with statistics or “felt needs” any more than could be
done in Noah’s day. But because God is faithful to his promises, this third choice is full of tender love and care.
In whatever concern we have for others in Jesus’ name, we
do not show that tender love and care by changing his gifts. To
the extent that the Method of Meta changes his gifts, it is not
the Method of the Master.
LOGIA
   -

NOTES
. Carl F. George, Prepare Your Church for the Future
. George, pp. , .
(Grand Rapids: Fleming H. Revell, ).
. George, p. .
. Dr. Jack L. Giles, Developing an Effective Small Group
. George, p. .
Ministry (Trinity Lutheran Church,  Kimberly Way, Lisle,
. George, p. .
IL - © ). The workshop was led by Dr. Giles using
. George, p. .
his materials and was held at St. John’s Lutheran Church, Rt. ,
. Tappert, p. .
Box , Adell, WI  on February , .
. Scudieri.
. Dr. Robert Scudieri, Church Extension through Leader. George, p. .
ship Development video (LCMS, ). Dr. Scudieri, the Area
. George, pp. , , , .
Secretary for North America of the Board for Mission Services
. George, p. .
(BFMS) of the LCMS, is the video presenter.
. Giles, p. .
. Giles, p.  and George, p. .
. Tappert, pp. , .
. C.F. Keil and F. Delitzsch, Commentary on the Old Tes. Tappert, p. , par. .
tament Vol. : Pentateuch (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans
. Tappert, p. .
Pub. Co., ), p. .
. Tappert, p. .
. Giles. Acts : is not specifically addressed in the print. Tappert, p. .
ed workbook, but it was stressed as a key passage in supple. George, pp. , .
mentary notes given in the presentation.
. Scudieri.
. Giles. Isaiah : is not found in the printed workbook.
. Scudieri.
Like Acts :, it was stressed in the presentation.
. Giles. This thought came from one of the presenters
. Theodore G. Tappert, The Book of Concord (Philadelduring the presentation.
phia: Fortress Press, ) p. .
. Giles, p. . The workbook has a specific section for
. George, p. .
video presentations.
. Giles. The quote was used in the presentation.
. Tappert, pp. , , , , -.
. George, p. .
. Tappert, p. , par. .
. The Lutheran Agenda (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing
. Martin Luther, Luther’s Small Catechism With ExplanaHouse, ) pp. -.
tion (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, ) p. .
. Tappert, p. .
. Norbert H. Mueller and George Kraus, Pastoral Theol. George, p. .
ogy (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, ) p. .
. George, p. .
A CALL FOR MANUSCRIPTS
The editors of LOGIA hereby request manuscripts, book reviews, and forum material for the following issues and themes:
ISSUE
THEME
DEADLINE
Epiphany 
Eastertide 
Holy Trinity 
Reformation 
Piety and Pastoral Care
Hymnody and Confession of the Faith
Potpourri
Preaching and Catechesis
October , 
January , 
April , 
July , 
Send all submissions to the appropriate editors and addresses as listed on the
inside front cover. Please include IBM, Macintosh or Apple diskette with manuscript whenever possible.
Reaching the TV Generation
Meeting the Challenge of Short Attention Spans
AN INTERVIEW MODERATED BY KEN SCHURB
j
CHRISTIAN CHURCH AT THE END OF THE TH CENTURY
faces a somewhat novel challenge in the declining attention spans of people, whether churched or unchurched.
How do we go about securing and keeping attention without sacrificing the integrity of the gospel? This and related issues formed
the subject of a panel discussion including several churchmen with
informed perspectives via telephone conference call on December
, . The present article is an edited transcript of that
conversation. We hope it draws attention to this subject and prods
Lutheran theology and practice toward addressing, constructively
and confessionally, the concerns raised by short attention spans in
church and society.
The moderator of the discussion was LOGIA contributing editor KEN SCHURB, director of the Parish Assistant program at Concordia College, Ann Arbor, Michigan. Other participants, listed in
order of appearance, were:
DALE A. MEYER, Lutheran Hour speaker, International
Lutheran Laymen’s League;
GEORGE F. WOLLENBURG, LOGIA contributing editor and
president of the Montana District of The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod;
JACK GILES, director of Christian Education at Trinity
Lutheran Church, Lisle, Illinois.
T
got to be very visual; I think we’ve got to be visual in everything
we do, especially on the radio—that’s a very visual medium. It
has to deliver a theme, but you just can’t take people through
long, discursive reasoning the way we used to.
HE
GW Just a little comment.… I have a son-in-law who was in
church this morning probably for one of the rare times in his
life, and his comment after the sermon was, “Generally that
was totally disorganized, [it] didn’t follow through on the
thought.” He’d just gotten a whole bunch of disorganization. I
think it’s even more essential, if we talk about attention span,
that there’s got to be good organization to the preaching and
anything that we do.
KS And the organization should be apparent, even if we make
it stick out like a sore thumb so people are sure to pick it up.
GW Yes; if you announce a theme or goal or purpose or whatever, you have to direct yourself toward that. You can’t go off
on side lines or you begin to lose attention.
KS I don’t know if any of you have experience with teaching or
preaching with an outline on an overhead projector or something like that. I did some sermons with the outline printed, in
front of people. I found, somewhat to my amazement, that
they didn’t like it. Most of them said, “We just put it aside and
listen to you anyway.” I’m not sure what to make of that.
KS Do you see short attention spans as a problem?
DM I think we’ve got to operate with sound bites. As much as
we don’t like that idea, that’s where most of the people are and
we’ve got to get sound bites out there. We’ve got to make what
the radio people call “impressions,” just to keep on getting our
point into the people’s attention. And as we do that more and
more, then we can draw them more and more into the teachings of the Scriptures, law and gospel and so on. But I don’t
think we can stick with a methodology of the past generation.
We’ve got to adapt ourselves to what people are used to, but
then use it for our own purposes.
JG We print the sermon outline every Sunday in the bulletin
and in fact we print daily Bible readings the week before to try
to help them prepare for the sermon. Obviously that’s not talking about reaching brand-new people, because someone who
walks in off the street will not have had the time to prepare.
But our people have responded favorably to that, to both the
daily Bible readings based on the upcoming worship theme
and on printing the worship outline.
KS What do you mean when you say “sound bites”?
DM Well, I notice in writing Lutheran Hour messages (which I
was doing before we began this conference call), my paragraphs tend to be much shorter than they used to be. They’ve

KS I think that one of the keys is when people have hit upon
some method that seems satisfactory to them. If they think
they really are gaining something by, say, following the daily
Bible readings, then they’ll continue to do it and probably even
recommend it to their friends.
   
JG I think you’re right. I think much of it needs to be lifeapplication oriented. If it’s only a short attention span problem, that’s one thing; but if the message doesn’t apply to their
life I think the attention span may even be shorter.
KS What do you have in mind?
JG Well, I think whether it’s preaching or teaching, people
want to know, “How is this going to help me live a better
Christian life? How is this going to help me be a better parent?
How is this going to help me in my relationships in the family
and the relationships at work?” And if it doesn’t, I think they’re
more apt to tune out much quicker.
DM I’d like to second what Jack is saying. We had a minor revelation this past year. We had a % increase in responses to
The Lutheran Hour over a nine-month period and the biggest
increase in responses came when we were talking about practical issues—family, marriage, and loneliness (we had one broadcast that got , responses). Those are the hot buttons that
people respond to. Then we had two months when we talked
about such “mundane” things as truth and the reformation of
the church (not really mundane) and the responses went right
down, because people didn’t respond to those issues, as important as those issues are. They know what they’re seeking and
with the short attention spans they want to scratch where it’s
itching. Then that presents all kinds of possible dangers: you
might help them scratch the itch but not get them down to the
central truths which we’re supposed to deliver. The other side
of the coin is that once you get their attention, you’ve got them
in a receptive mode to talk about law and gospel and so on.
. . . you might help them scratch the
itch but not get them down to the
central truths which we’re supposed to
deliver.
KS Do you think that this short attention span problem calls
for us to give even more attention to pre-evangelism? Do we
need to concentrate more on delivering messages which don’t
necessarily include the gospel but will set people up, as you
were hinting there, Dale, to hear the gospel—although what
we’re telling them first is “here are some good ideas on raising
the kids” or whatever?
DM Yes, I think so, although there are all sorts of dangers connected to that. One is that we’d never get around to the real
purpose of the evangelism presentation. In this day and age …
at least with radio, religious people listen to religious
broadcasting. And somehow we’ve got to get to the people who
will not by nature listen to religious broadcasting. I think the
pre-evangelism approach is very important. Now it’s important to make sure that we follow up and that we’re just building the bridge to get the evangelism message delivered.

GW There’s an old rule for getting attention: you have to start
with people where they’re at. Especially in preaching, you’ve
got about thirty seconds from the time that you start, and if
you haven’t gotten attention at that point, you’re not going to
get it. The initial sentences with which you begin are probably
the most important words that you say. You have to start with
people where they are at that minute. If you don’t, if you
haven’t got their attention, you’re not going to get it.
KS Once you speak those initial few sentences of a sermon or
some other form of gospel presentation, what do you do to try
to lengthen people’s attention spans? What kind of resources
do we have that will help us in this effort?
GW First, I think it basically goes back to the fact that you’re
going to have to spend time talking to people. If you don’t, you
don’t know what’s going on in their minds. The second thing:
Rhetoric may have its place. But in communicating with the
spoken word, short sentences and the absence of adjectives are
essential. Adjectives do not communicate, not in spoken
words. And action words, verbs, are terribly important. Short
sound bites are accomplished by using a lot of verbs, not adjectives or adverbs.
DM I’d like to follow up on what George is saying: I think the
outline is critical. I spend more and more of my time working
the outline because once you’ve got their attention up front,
you’re going to have it for a minute or two or three and they’re
going to start to drift and you’ve constantly got to keep getting
their attention back. One of things that I find helpful is strategically placed stories or little one-liners to call their attention
back. I notice when I’m preaching that people do listen to a
story. There’s something about a story that makes them listen
more so than just a logical presentation of whatever the topic
happens to be. The outline, I think, is critical. Part of the task
with the outline is not only addressing the subject (which has
to be done), but also realizing you’re dealing with people here
who aren’t going to be with you through the whole thing and
you’ve constantly got to be calling them back to the topic at
hand.
KS A homiletics professor told me once that a sermon these
days would do well to consist of perhaps four or five mini-sermons, each of which is going to be three to three and a half
minutes long, the development of a sub-theme in itself. You
string them together and get the entire sermon. If someone
only tunes in to you for one of those three-minute segments,
they at least got something there. Reaction?
GW In listening, nobody pays attention for thirty minutes, or
twenty or ten. People move in and out mentally because a
thought may suddenly strike them and they’ll take off in that
direction and come back in. I think that’s what Dale was saying. And that makes it important that you’re not trying to follow some kind of a logical procession of thought so that you
finally make your point only at the end. I think it has to be
made repeatedly.


KS How about other kinds of presentations, in the classroom
or whatnot? I imagine a lot of the same things we’ve said here
certainly carry over. But Jack, I’d particularly be interested in
having you react to this. What do you find that you need to do
in the classroom?
JG Well, dealing with confirmation students on a weekly basis,
I think I can see an impact of the short attention spans there
because it’s definitely tougher for them to stay on task than it
was, oh, twenty years ago, let’s say.
Children need to be taught to make
confession on the basis of the
commandment of God when the
parents use that command. Parents
need to learn how to absolve children . . .
thinking. But that’s what we’re there for—that’s our task.
JG I’m not sure how this transitions from Dale and The
Lutheran Hour into the whole parish ministry—but one of the
key things we focus on here at Trinity is the building of relationships. You were talking earlier about evangelism and we
strongly encourage our members to build relationships with
nonbelievers for pre-evangelism, so that then they will have the
opportunity, at some point in time, to share their faith. And so
we really encourage them to do the spade work so it doesn’t
rest just on the “performance” of the preacher that morning or
something like that. We try to focus heavily on the relationships between the people so that they can connect with one
another. And we try to do the same things in the classroom settings. All the Bible classes that we teach around here have a relational aspect to them and I think that makes a difference.
KS Once I heard a preacher say that one of the reasons why
people have a hard time with private confession is because no
one has ever really listened to them. Does private confession
and absolution play in here at all?
KS What do you do as a result of this problem?
GW Well, we have an individualized program to try to counteract that a little bit. In terms of the bookwork such as reading, and of course memory work, you ask them to memorize
just a little bit and it’s like you’re asking them to memorize the
whole Bible because they just don’t get that kind of thing at
school anymore. So in those areas, we’ve tried to compensate a
little bit by adding some video stuff, some audiotapes and so
forth.
KS Has that helped overall, or hurt, do you think?
JG Well, I’d like to say that it’s helped. I guess you’d have to
ask the students how they feel about it, but I think it’s helped
because we’re trying to use the media that they’re used to. So
we have cassette tapes that they listen to. They bring their
Walkmans in.
GW Do you have a way of checking to see whether the videos
actually do anything to promote learning?
JG We have quizzes after each learning packet and a final major
exam at the end of the year. I’d say that we’re pretty satisfied
with the knowledge that they’re gaining. Our measurements are
not specifically addressed to an individual video but to the
whole concept of what we’re trying to present in that packet.
KS Dale, what do you think?
DM I think the biggest challenge is that we recognize the problem as educators, as pastors, and then make the appropriate
changes. Then that challenges us not to do things the way we
ourselves were raised. But once we recognize that and adjust
our methodology accordingly, I don’t think it’s so difficult.
We’ve got to bring people into a long, more discursive way of
GW I think very definitely it does, but confession has to be
taught. It’s not something that comes automatically because
you say to people, “here’s something which you can use.” I’m
becoming more and more convinced that the place where it
has to be taught is already in the home with a child by the parents. I’ve been devoting some time on my visitations to the
congregations here to dealing with that subject. Children need
to be taught to make confession on the basis of the commandment of God when the parents use that command. Parents
need to learn how to absolve children so that confession and
absolution is something that they grow up with in their own
home. We’re not going to see it in the church unless it happens
there. It seems to me that this is a subject that we need to give a
whole lot of attention to in the training of children and the disciplining of children with confession and absolution. I’m
working up some ideas for my district on that.
KS If there’s one thing we’ve learned from the explosion of literature on cultural literacy it is this: in order to learn more
you’ve got to know something to begin with, and you’ve got to
constantly connect the new knowledge to what is already
known. That too is part of meeting people where they are; not
just meeting people where they are emotionally or affectively,
but also meeting them where they are cognitively. This involves
more than simply speaking in words they can understand. It
means that you are connecting to them at a level where they’re
capable of understanding the ideas that you’re talking about.
What kind of challenges does that present for us in the church,
whether dealing with the unchurched or with people already in
the faith?
DM Before our conversation here I was working on some February Lutheran Hour sermons on the topic of cancer. What
we’re discovering, at least I’m discovering personally, is that
there’s more and more of an onus on the preacher to find out
   
where the people are living at—what they’re feeling, what
they’re talking about, how they’re expressing it. For us to come
in with the jargon of the centuries may not reach them. There’s
got to be a lot of reading, a lot of observation. I think a pastor
ought to spend time down at the local coffee shop watching
people and he ought to be constantly calling on people and letting them send him the clues about how he needs to apply the
word. I think more and more we’ve really got to put significant
time into preaching or teaching. The seminary degree just isn’t
enough anymore. We’ve got to study constantly.
JG One phrase that we use around here probably would make
a pretty good sound bite: “People don’t care about how much
you know till they know how much you care.” I think that’s
what you’re saying, Dale—people need to know that you care
for them as individuals and where they’re hurting and where
the tension points are in their life. And once they know you
care, then the avenue is really open to share the truth of God’s
word with them.
DM There’s an interesting survey done by the American Florists
Association in the Chicago Tribune about a week ago. Seventyeight percent of Americans think that other people don’t care.
So now if the church sends a clear signal that we do care, what a
tremendous opening there is for delivering the gospel.
GW Going back to something from earlier, somebody said
“avoid jargon,” and I think that is absolutely crucial. I hear a few
sermons now and then since I’m not in the pulpit myself very
much any more, and what I hear is theological jargon—phrases
like “justified by faith”—most of which is totally meaningless to
the average listener, even if he is a member of the Lutheran
church. The phrases do not convey meaning. They may be fine
shorthand, technical language for pastors and theologians at
conferences. But in preaching or teaching, those phrases are
almost meaningless in terms of conveying meaning or touching
people where they live in their hearts and their emotions. The
preacher’s or teacher’s job is not to use shorthand. That may be
a necessary help, but your job is always to expand on the thought
behind the shorthand. In other words, what you can say by the
phrase “justified by faith alone” needs to get two paragraphs, not
one sentence, in order to be meaningful.
DM I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that some of this jargon may
be camouflaging the fact that we don’t ourselves know the
gospel all that well and I hear reports from the field of sermons
and presentations that are more pious law than pure gospel.
Do you have any feelings on that?
GW All sorts of them, but time would fail us.
KS I agree, Dale. I think that there is a real problem there. The
gospel is usually made sweet by way of exposition to the degree
that it is already sweet to that person who’s doing the proclaiming. If we really are not living in constant thanksgiving to
God for the forgiveness of our sin, purchased with the blood of
the Son of God, it’s going to be difficult for that to come

through in any prominent way in our own exposition of the
gospel.
GW Somebody mentioned the matter of classroom teaching.
Just a little reflection on that: one of the essential things in
teaching is “start where people are at.” You’ll find out where
they’re at by listening to conversations. I’m not big on cassettes
or videos because they tend to train people to forget. I think
the teacher still has to do the teaching, very simple ways of
hooking things up. The use of a blackboard is an old-fashioned
kind of thing, but like Jesus who bent down and wrote in the
sand, it doesn’t have to be technically as great as our technology today is; very simple things fix points in people’s minds.
They see a word that’s written out, that draws an emphasis.
There has to be a lot of that in teaching any group of people.
You can’t just expect people to sit there as you speak without
doing anything else for fifteen or twenty minutes.
KS I want to give each one of you a chance to take a parting
shot, or offer a word of wisdom.
JG Not necessarily a parting word of wisdom, but you mentioned earlier pre-evangelism and drawing people in through
classes. That’s something that we do try to do at Trinity. We
have a preschool of about  children, about  of whom are
non-members, and one of the things we’ve tried this fall is
moms’ support groups—to help them become better moms,
but also obviously to try to draw them into the church. And yet
I think we need to be careful—I think Dale’s caution is well
taken—that you don’t just keep giving the people the cream
without giving them the meat or whatever. But we’ve found
these activities very effective ways to try to draw people in.
That is where they’re scratching, and if we can address the itch
and bring them into something, then we have a better chance of
sharing the gospel with them than if they don’t come in at all.
GW While we depend on the Holy Spirit to bring the message
of God’s word to the heart and convert the heart, that doesn’t
excuse us for being lazy. It doesn’t excuse us for being unwilling to be scholars in the real sense of the word—scholars
whose curiosity is constantly probing to find out where people
are at, how they understand things, how they feel. The pastor
who says, “I’m not a scholar, I’m just a parish preacher,” is deluding himself that somehow you can do an effective job of
conveying the gospel without being serious about being a
scholar. St. Paul was a scholar of the first note.
DM Two points: first of all, I think the time is ripe for us. The
baby boomers are getting a lot of press now; the Clinton-Gore
administration is filled with baby boomers and this generation
is one of the most spiritual generations America has ever
seen—not necessarily spiritual in a Christian way, but they’re
looking. And the time is ripe. The second thing is I think what
they need, what we all need, is sweet gospel in simple terms
that any one of us can understand: “I can’t make it on my own.
Jesus died for my sins and he’s the only hope I’ve got.” And I
think God put us here to do exactly that at this time.
LOGIA
Liturgical Worship
for Evangelism and Outreach
JAMES TIEFEL
j
INTRODUCTION
PASTOR LUTHER. HE
wasn’t thirty years old when the grim reality hit him
that a good share of his world’s population was
depending on his efforts for its hope of heaven. Their numbers
were staggering; their spirituality was worse. People had almost
no concept of a biblical Christ. Only a few parents had any
ability to pass on to their children even the simplest Christian
doctrine or the most basic Christian morality. The average
man was more interested in food for his table than food for his
soul and, together with the average woman, spent most of the
day scraping for what would be gone by the next day. There
was a fear of hell and a desire for heaven in almost every home,
but the overwhelming point of view held that something
resembling morality could avoid the one and gain the other.
As Luther contemplated reaching these masses, he realized
he would find little help from the organized churches of his
era. He was surrounded by a belly-serving clergy that was
directing more souls away from Christ than toward him.
Church hierarchy was more interested in social and political
endeavors than in spirituality. The mega-churches offered little
more than ceremonial glitz and artistic entertainment.
Things were not much better on the local scene. It was the
rarest shepherd who did anything else but turn searchers
inward, toward their own reaction and response to God. Then
there were the mystics, coming at the people from outside the
church, who joined the language of Christianity to non-Christian superstition, much of which was surely cultic in nature.
Academic circles were infiltrated by humanism. In most cases,
government was devoid of anything resembling moral leadership. When Pastor Luther looked out at the streets of his society, he saw much more than a lethargic church body needing a
little spiritual renewing. Instead he saw millions and more who
required a radical religious transformation. For all intents and
purposes, these were men, women and children who did not
know Christ and his forgiveness by faith and who were bound
by Satan for hell.
P
UT YOURSELF IN THE SHOES OF POOR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JAMES TIEFEL is professor of worship and Christian education at Wisconsin Lutheran Seminary in Mequon, Wisconsin. A version of this article
was delivered to the home missionaries of the WELS in October .

It is impossible to know, of course, how deeply Luther
worked at strategic planning and five-year programs. We have
no idea if he had a master plan in the early s which he felt
would allow him to serve the people of his world. He claimed
no divine revelations (and even the famous Satanic revelation
is probably nothing more than a good story!). He was not
impelled by inspiration in the same way Peter and Paul were.
And his handling of the peasant uprising proves he could be
overly idealistic. The man made mistakes. On the other hand,
we know that he prayed a great deal and that he studied the
Scriptures more. From his writings we gain a clear picture of
his understanding of and attitudes toward the gospel and the
means of grace. More than any of his followers then and now,
he deserved to wear the hat of doctor of theology which he
insisted himself belonged only to the man who grasped the
doctrine of justification.
This is the man we find in the s looking for a way to
proclaim the gospel which, to his joy, he had so recently discovered for himself. He was not a practical theologian at heart;
he was certainly not infallible. But his field was not so different
from ours and he loved the gospel as much as any of us. What
did he do? Where did he begin the monumental task which
stood before him?
He began with corporate worship. Every other proclamation tool except for his translation of the New Testament came
after his work on worship: the catechisms, the Old Testament
translation, the confessions, the sermon books. And what style
of worship did he determine to use? He used the style we call
still today “liturgical.” In both of his worship orders, the Formula Missae and the Deutsche Messe, he employed the timehonored worship order of the western Christian Church, the
liturgy. Along with the liturgy came the historic progression of
the ordinary and the proper, the church year and the Sacrament of the Altar. He was not interested in one traditional
form; the two orders are very different. It was a style to which
he was committed, a style which focused Sunday by Sunday
and year after year on the words and works of Christ, carried to
Christ’s people in word and sacrament.
From the onset, Luther made it clear that this was a purposeful decision, and not at all born out of convenience or
pragmatism. He did not lean toward liturgical style only
because he loved traditional forms. By his choice, he was not
     
going with the flow. He was actually going against the contemporary grain with his worship principles. Ulrich Zwingli was in
the process of setting a standard in Zurich which was decidedly
non-liturgical. There were strong voices even in Wittenberg
urging radical worship reforms. In numerous places throughout Germany other reform-minded pastors were drawing large
followings by rejecting everything but a simple New Testament
style of worship. Luther surely noticed what appealed to the
masses. He also understood how easily the ceremonies inherent in a liturgical style could obfuscate the gospel; they had, in
fact, often replaced gospel proclamation. He insisted that
“when God’s Word is not preached, one had better neither sing
nor read, or even come together.” There were dozens of good
reasons why Luther might have chosen something besides
liturgical form as a vehicle for gospel proclamation, but in the
very first sentence of his very first treatise specifically on the
subject of worship, he made it clear why he was heading where
he was:
The service now in common use everywhere goes
back to genuine Christian beginnings, as does the
office of preaching. But as the latter has been perverted by the spiritual tyrants, so the former has been corrupted by the hypocrites. As we do not on that
account abolish the office of preaching, but aim to
restore it again to its right and proper place, so it is
not our intention to do away with the service, but to
restore it again to its rightful use.
In the introduction to his Latin service, he was even clearer about his determination:
We therefore first assert: It is not now nor ever has
been our intention to abolish the liturgical service of
God completely, but rather to purify the one that is
now in use from the wretched accretions which corrupt it and to point out an evangelical use.
With that lengthy prelude, I refer now to the title of this
essay: “Liturgical Worship for Evangelism and Outreach.”
There is almost a contradiction in terms in that phrase. Not
much of what we read by or about the pastors of growing
churches advocates a liturgical style of worship. David Luecke
insists that “liturgical renewal [in recent history] has not been
associated with a burst of church growth,” and urges liturgical
Lutherans to “package their [gospel] offering better.” Walther
Kallestad, who looks out at more than , worshipers Sunday after Sunday at his Lutheran Community Church of Joy
(ELCA), recently wrote, “If we are absolutely honest—what
most churches do on Sunday morning is not working.” No
pastor who is honestly interested in outreach can avoid dealing
with the implications of that opinion. The fact is, most evangelism-geared pastors don’t need experts to tell them that. In
their own ministries, and even more in the ministries around
them, they see what draws and what does not draw people to
worship. Lutheran pastors are by no means the only pastors
affected by this non-liturgical point of view. The Methodist

editor Keith Pohl recently wrote that he is “afraid the battle is
over.” According to him, the popular, non-liturgical style has
won and has moved to local churches. “I suspect that many of
our churches are copying what they see. ‘Come worship with
us and be entertained.’” So here is the pastor in the last years
of the twentieth century, aching to carry the gospel of Jesus to a
dying world, reaching for forms and methods which allow him
to do that as well as he can. And in the midst of this deep
desire, both conventional wisdom and personal experience are
leading him away from his liturgical moorings.
In numerous places throughout
Germany other reform-minded
pastors were drawing large followings
by rejecting everything but a simple
New Testament style of worship.
What is the connection between our situation and
Luther’s? It surely could not have escaped us that pastors serving at the end of the th century do not face a very different
world from the theologian-reformer who ministered at the
beginning of the th century. The people of our society are
not much more caught up in paganism, hedonism, subjectivism and humanism than were the people of Luther’s era.
There were voices then as there are now advocating a radical
reform of worship styles and principles. Yet Martin Luther,
perhaps our situational brother as much as our confessional
brother, did worship in the form and style called “liturgical.”
Why he did that and how he did that  years ago can be very
helpful to you and me today. The paragraphs which follow
mean to help pastors—those in mission congregations and
those in established parishes—understand the value of liturgical worship for evangelism and outreach, and to assist them in
using it in their ministries.
PART I: LITURGICAL WORSHIP:
THE WORK OF GOD AND THE WORK OF THE PEOPLE
Worship is first of all God’s work (Gottesdienst). The
Greek word that gives us our word liturgy (leitourgevw), as
well as its close companion latreuvw, may emphasize the
response of the believer to God. The first is the more formal
term, signifying a public response; the second is the more general word for serving. What faith-filled people do at worship is
pray, praise and give thanks. And yet, we must not assume that
such activity is the only form of worship, nor even that these
are the highest forms of worship. Believers worship God best
when they listen to him. Luther wrote:
As God at first gives faith through the Word, so he
thereafter also exercises, increases, confirms, and perfects it through the Word. Therefore the worship of
God at its best and the finest keeping of the Sabbath
consist in exercising oneself in piety and in dealing
with the Word and hearing it.


We therefore find two primary ingredients in public worship: God speaking and people responding. Carl Halter coined
what may be the perfect definition of corporate worship when
he wrote, “Worship is a joyful concern with God through
Christ.” God’s people love to hear God speak and they love to
speak to God. Whenever we think about the church’s worship,
we need to keep both of these elements in mind.
When we come to grips with the two-fold nature of public
worship, we will arrive at the conclusion that only Christians
can worship. No prayer, confession, acclamation, not even a
desire to hear God speak, is true worship unless it flows from
faith. When the psalm writer encouraged Israel to “sing to the
Lord a new song” he was urging the people to sing the song
that came from the new heart of faith. Worship which does not
come from such a heart is nothing more than civic righteousness. The Jews of Jesus’ day worshiped without that heart. Jesus
said of them: “You hypocrites! Isaiah was right when he said
about you: ‘These people honor me with their lips, but their
hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain. . . . ’” (Mt
:-). It is not the sound of the worship that counts, but the
source. Jesus told the Samaritan woman: “God is a spirit, and
his worshipers must worship him in spirit and in truth” (Jn
:). The noted liturgical scholar Peter Brunner understood
that God must act before people can act. In his book Worship
in the Name of Jesus, he wrote:
The congregation’s service before God becomes real
by reason of the fact that that God Himself presents
the congregation with the act of service as His gift. If
God does not arouse us to His service through the
Holy Spirit, all that we do in worship remains dead.
It is true that nothing in our worship activity serves
God unless it has first been given to us by God. All
that we do in worship is God-pleasing service only
insofar as it issues from the Spirit poured out over
us.
The very idea of inviting an unbeliever to “worship” is
almost ludicrous. Imagine encouraging a Unitarian to join in
singing “I Know That My Redeemer Lives.” Think of the idea
of leading a Mormon in the Nicene Creed (“God from God,
Light from Light, true God from true God”) or asking an
Arminian Baptist to confess that he is “by nature sinful and
unclean.” “Come join us for worship” is an invitation which, in
many cases, surely borders on encouraging hypocrisy.
It becomes obvious with that review why the Cchurch of
both the Old Testament and the New Testament never considered corporate worship to be an important forum for evangelization. Even in what was likely the greatest mission era of
church history, the first two centuries after Christ, we find the
Savior’s witnesses looking for opportunities to proclaim the
good news away from their public worship. Only after instruction had begun were the non-baptized invited to the word section of the service (the part of the service from introit to sermon was even called the “Mass of the Catechumens”). The
unbaptized were not allowed to even observe the mysteries in
the communion section (the “Mass of the Faithful”) until after
instruction and baptism were done. Referring to corporate
worship, Werner Elert wrote:
Admission was not just for anybody. . . . The gathering for worship in the early church was not a public
but a closed assembly, while the celebration of the
Eucharist was reserved for the saints with the utmost
strictness.
Believers worship God best
when they listen to him.
Despite his deep commitment to the common man and
his determined effort to make liturgical worship something in
which the common man could easily participate, Martin
Luther did not consider the Sunday service to be the primary
entrance level for many in Germany who literally were nonbelievers.
The German service needs a plain and simple, fair and
square catechism. Catechism means the instruction in
which the heathen who want to be Christians are
taught and guided in what they should believe, know,
and do, and leave undone, according to the Christian
faith.
The practice of the New Testament church was not essentially different from that of the Old Testament. Instruction by
the fathers and, later in history, by the rabbis in the synagogue,
preceded participation in the rites of the tabernacle and temple. It can be seen from even a cursory study of church history
that never until the dawn of American Revivalism did the
church consider its corporate worship to be an appropriate
forum for evangelization. Rather, it understood that initiation
into the Christian faith was accomplished more easily through
some form of education.
It stands to reason that worship, which is essentially an
inter-action between God and his people, is not going to work
well as a replacement for witness, which is essentially an action
by God toward people who are not his. Think of the vast difference between worship and witness. Worship expects a response
and is formed in such a way as to demand a response. Witness,
while it prays for a response, accepts only what the Holy Spirit
creates. Because worship involves believers, it sets a full banquet
of God’s means of grace. Imagine trying to witness to a nonbeliever by means of baptism and the Supper! Worship includes
a review of all God’s sacred secrets. Witness demands simplicity
and clarity. Consider the vast differences between the Letter to
the (believing) Hebrews and Peter’s Pentecost sermon to unbelieving Hebrews. Consider as well the difference between Peter’s
sermon and Paul’s witness to the Greeks at the Areopagus.
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The point is that the objectives of corporate worship and
evangelism are not the same. Therefore, the forms and methods used to reach these objectives cannot be the same, either.
No teacher worth his salt would dream of using a twentyminute discourse, emptied of questions and visual aids, to
implant Bible teachings on the minds of a classroom full of
energetic fourth graders. But the worship leader understands
that a sermon works very well for reviewing God’s truth and
for motivating God’s people, especially since the people at worship come from various stages of life and are at various ages
and educational levels. In the same way, the wise worship
leader does not give to the churched what is essential for the
unchurched, and the wise evangelist does not give to the
unchurched what is essential for the churched. Worship is
Gottesdienst; witness is didachv. Both are essential in the faithwalk of the disciple, but each is essential at a different point in
that walk. Church planters need to come to grips with the difference between the two, both as to objective and methods.
Does this mean that pastors and evangelism committee
members ought to stand guard at the doors of their churches
and refuse entrance to any unchurched or non-Lutheran visitor? Of course not. It does mean that we ought not put too
many of our outreach eggs into the corporate worship basket.
We have tended in the past to use a front-door approach
with prospects and searchers, and there was a time when this
was the best approach in most cases. When America was still a
Christian nation, the Christ-centered sermons our pastors
preached to their members satisfied what most visitors wanted.
Although the visitor might have been of a different confessional stripe, he likely as not knew about Jesus and was searching
for a way to heaven. Add to this the observation that a generation ago the WELS was primarily a preaching church. Until the
mid-s our corporate worship was decidedly non-liturgical
and non-sacramental. The order of service in most congregations was very sparse; into the s respected WELS pastors
were denouncing the “high church” liturgy of The Lutheran
Hymnal. Babies were most often baptized in private ceremonies, not in the service. The Lord’s Supper was offered no
more than four or six times a year, and then often in a separate
service preceded by a confessional address. Even if a visitor did
wander into a communion service by chance, our close communion policy was not likely to be so different from that of the
church of his heritage.
Much has changed in fifty years. The historic Lutheran
liturgy has been stuck in our heads since our youth. Churchyear preaching is our ultimate style. Both pastors and people
have come to value the Sacrament and desire to receive it
often. Baptisms are invariably a part of Sunday worship. But in
the same span of time during which the WELS progressed
toward liturgical fullness, the society around it digressed into
liberalism, humanism and hedonism. The average visitor may
come to our churches looking for salvation, but not the kind of
salvation we’re offering. There is a good chance he will not
understand even the simplest theological terms, and whatever
brush he’s had with America’s syncretistic denominations will
have left him totally unprepared for our exclusivity in both
doctrine and communion practices. The front door may still be

a valid entrance point for some searchers, but at the very least
it should be only one of several entrance points. Anywhere a
congregation has come to enjoy the rich fullness of liturgical
worship, a pastor is wise to spend a good share of his time
developing side-door approaches to reach the sheep which are
still not found.
By side-door approaches I refer to anything which is not
corporate worship but which may attract the interest of the
people in the community. Side-door approaches may be molded with either actual spiritual needs or perceived needs in
mind.
The pre-eminent approach in the first-mentioned category
is adult Bible study. Most of our congregations ought to be able
to give to more spiritual searchers several options for finding
answers to life’s questions from the Word. These classes ought
to be taught under optimum teaching/learning circumstances.
Introductions which present real maladies, questions which
lead students into the text of the Bible and discussion statements which allow participants to interact on the basis of
scriptural principles are vital for these classes. Hour-long lectures serve only very specialized situations. Pastors will want to
take a careful look at their Bible Information Classes (BIC) and
determine whether the course’s length and depth is a deterrent
to enrollment. (Our traditional approach to adult confirmation/ instruction has tended to favor long and detailed courses.
Shorter courses can work well if both the pastor and the participant see the BIC as only the first step in a lifelong study of
Scripture. The concept will leave us with poorly trained members only if congregations fail to establish an expanding and
sequential Bible study curriculum.)
. . . it is altogether possible for us to let
worship be Gottesdienst for the sake of
the churched believers, and yet not feel
bound thereby to write off the
unchurched and non-believers.
Side-door entries which are molded to meet perceived needs
are limited only by imagination, the community’s needs and the
congregation’s man- (or woman-) power. Courses on stress
management, successful parenting and loneliness are obvious
attractions in some communities. Day care may be the pre-eminent side-door approach of the ’s. Social opportunities, sports
activities (e.g., aerobics classes) and English language courses fall
into the same category. Obviously, none of these offers a direct
and immediate gospel witness, and none of them dares stand
above the proclamation of the gospel on a congregation’s list of
priorities, but all create opportunities for evangelization.
Pastors who work at developing side-door entrance points
will also lead the sheep they have to be aware of and equipped
for friendship evangelism. When visitors do come to worship,
the apparatus for immediate follow-up by pastor and members
will be firmly in place.


In this writer’s opinion, it is altogether possible for us to
let worship be Gottesdienst for the sake of the churched believers, and yet not feel bound thereby to write off the unchurched
and non-believers. A commitment to serve both the mature
and the immature does, however, demand extra work, a degree
of creativity and even, perhaps, a willingness to challenge a few
preconceived notions.
PART II: LITURGICAL WORSHIP:
THE CONFESSION OF THE CHURCH
The theory works pretty well on paper: assign worship to
the believers, evangelism to the non-believers; use the front
door for the churched, the side door for the unchurched. The
reality is not quite so neat. The fact is that the unchurched want
to come to church; they don’t want to enter by some side door!
The contention that America is no longer a Christian
nation is pretty convincing, but there is evidence which seems
to suggest that many of those non-Christians are finding life
pretty empty without Christianity. There are many unchurched people in our society who are searching for answers
which they know only God can give. The trouble is, they aren’t
sure where to find God. To look for him in organized religion
makes a good deal of sense, but they see hundreds of organized
religions on the horizon, each offering God in a slightly different package. The confusion which that segment of society must
feel is obvious, and it is intensified by several additional factors.
These unchurched likely have been churched at least once during their lives. They are unchurched now because their previous church experience failed to give them the answers they
wanted to get. Add to that the likelihood that they are not quite
sure what answers they wanted to get—or, for that matter,
what questions they wanted to ask. There are two realities for
millions of unchurched Americans: Somehow, they do not feel
at peace, and somehow, they feel religion must be able to supply what they’re missing. They have no objective means to
gauge what they’re looking for and no objective means to judge
what God must supply. And so they apply to their spiritual
search the same yardstick their culture has led them to employ
in other areas of life. They look for God in his various denominational appearances with one question in mind: Does this feel
right? Tragically, the narcissism of contemporary American
society has joined forces with the opinio legis. Richard Neuhaus
offers this analysis of the situation:
Truth is measured by what is frequently called
“expressive individualism.” The ability to express
myself, to be in touch with my feelings, to find my
own voice, in sum—To Be Me—this is what matters,
this is substance.
Although David Luecke writes from the opposite perspective, he agrees essentially with Neuhaus’ analysis. We live in a
culture, he contends, that “stresses personal choices to a previously unimaginable degree.” The church growth consultant
Win Arn quotes from a study by the United Methodists which
insists that churched and unchurched alike want a church
where they will feel warm and comfortable.
The implications for today’s pastor are enormous. Here
are the realities he faces:
Most seekers of spirituality have almost no concept of what actually ails the human spirit, i.e., sin as
guilt before God. Therefore, few are ready to hear
about what cures the human spirit, i.e., a forgiving
God. Many have had a try already at a “sin-forgiveness” religion and have found it lacking.
Most seekers are looking for a spiritual experience which makes them feel better about and with
themselves. They are victims of a hedonistic environment which insists, “If it feels good, it must be good.”
Most seekers search for this feel-good spirituality
in church, i.e., at worship. If they fail to find it at one
church, they will look for it at another.
An article in Eternity magazine summarized the situation
like this:
. . . the Evangelical movement has put
an “organized religion” stamp of
approval on a consumer approach to
worship.
Worship . . . fits right into the consumerism that so
characterizes American religious life. Church-shopping has become common. A believer will compare
First Presbyterian, St. John’s Lutheran, Epiphany
Episcopal, Brookwood Methodist and Bethany Baptist for the “best buy.” The church plant, programs,
and personnel are scrutinized, but the bottom line is,
“How did it feel?” Worship must be sensational.
“Start with an earthquake and work up from there,”
advised one professor of homiletics. “Be sure you
have the four prerequisites of a successful church,”
warned another; “upbeat music, adequate parking, a
warm welcome, and a dynamite sermon.” The slogan
is “Try it, you’ll like it.”
The situation would be serious enough if only natural religion were leading society to its experiential concept of salvation. In many ways, however, the Evangelical movement has
put an “organized religion” stamp of approval on a consumer
approach to worship. The worship life of many Evangelical
churches is characterized by a free, informal, charismatic style
which breezily allows the worshiper a warm, personal experience. C. Peter Wagner describes this style of worship like this:
When a lot of people come together, hungry to meet
God, a special kind of worship can occur. That experi-
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ence is what I want to call celebration. . . . The great
camp meetings of a century ago, Finney’s revivals, Billy Graham’s crusades . . . all these operated basically as
celebrations. Christians love to go to them. They are a
lot of fun.
Given the societal scene, does it really surprise you that
Evangelical churches are growing? It doesn’t surprise the leaders of the Church Growth Movement. They notice what kind
of worship attracts the unchurched and suggest that any
church which is interested in growth needs to adopt this free
and informal Evangelical style.
What do these observations have to say to liturgical
Lutherans? Liturgical worship, with its western rite, church
year and sacramental emphasis, can hardly be described as free,
informal or breezy. If Church Growth theory is correct, we
stand to lose most of our visitors for two reasons: they will not
be attracted to our worship and they will be attracted to Evangelical worship. There is a practical concern if there ever was
one!
The situation presents a theoretical concern as well. Have
the Evangelicals and their Church Growth supporters caught
something Lutherans have missed? The LCMS pastor David
Luecke contends that they have in his book Evangelical Style
and Lutheran Substance. Many in his church body and in the
ELCA obviously agree. Richard Neuhaus recently passed on the
rumor that there are more Missouri Synod students doing
graduate work at Fuller Theological Seminary than at the graduate schools of the two Concordias combined. In some cases a
literal war has broken out between the defenders of liturgical
form and those who favor the Evangelical style. The rhetoric
from both camps fills hundreds of pages. And no one ought to
assume that WELS pastors are not carefully and critically
examining both sides of the issue.
If Church Growth theory is correct, we
stand to lose most of our visitors for
two reasons: they will not be attracted
to our worship and they will be
attracted to Evangelical worship.
There is also a theological issue here. Are some trying to
retain a liturgical style simply because that is tradition? And
here is a more serious question: Are we hindering growth
because we have made a law out of what ought to be an adiaphoron? Have we erected a barrier to the Holy Spirit and his
means with our western rite, church year and sacramental
emphasis? This question gets to the heart of the issue: Ought
we change our style for the sake of carrying out the Great
Commission?
The informal, non-liturgical style of worship we find in
Evangelical churches was born out of a determined effort to rescue the perishing. It has its roots in the evangelistic era of the
first and second Great Awakenings. Those sources alone compel

us to consider the validity of the style. Yet, as the following
paragraphs will show, this informal style has as much to do with
Evangelical theology as it does with evangelizing objectives.
Today’s Evangelicals have their heritage in American
revivalism which began in the early decades of the th century.
Revivalism first of all intended to call to repentance the smug
mainliners of the eastern religious establishment and then to
reclaim the vast numbers who had left the east for a better life
on the frontier. The leaders of Revivalism never lacked for zeal.
They were on fire against hypocrisy and for saving. In many
cases unsophisticated and poorly educated, they nevertheless
set the theological standards for religious life on the frontier
and, although they would be surprised to know it, eventually
influenced all of American Protestantism and especially the
Evangelical movement.
From their battles with the eastern denominations these
Revivalists developed a deep distrust of any sort of confessionalism. Like the German Pietists, they determined that the
“orthodox” churches spent too much time with creeds and not
enough time with Christ. But they were sternly committed to
an inspired Bible and established their worship forms with the
simplicity of the New Testament in mind. The Disciples of
Christ leader Thomas Campbell wrote in the s: “Nothing
ought to be received into the faith or worship of the Church or
to be made a term of communion among Christians that is not
as old as the New Testament.”
Revivalism’s dual emphases on the Christ of the Bible and
on the simplicity of the New Testament served well for reaching
the lost, but its anti-creedalism allowed it to become an amalgam of various Reformed emphases. From traditional Calvinism the Revivalists inherited a theological emphasis no Lutheran could accept. The law, to John Calvin the “moral equivalent
of the gospel,” was much more the pattern of salvation than the
mirror of God’s wrath. Rather than release from the guilt of sin,
salvation became primarily freedom from the power of sin, and
Christ, the Son of the Sovereign, became the empowerer of such
freedom. From traditional Arminianism and John Wesley’s
Methodism the Revivalists gained their doctrines of man, faith
and conversion. Free will gave man the ability to make a cognitive decision to choose for good or evil: a choice for evil left him
with guilt before God; a choice for good gave him faith. Combine Calvinism and Arminianism and you have Revivalism’s
emphasis on empirical results: since salvation consists in the
ability to obey the law, and since conversion is man’s free
choice, those who are actually converted will display an obvious
lifestyle metamorphosis. That empirical change became the
guarantee of conversion, the evidence of success. Now add to all
this the general Reformed denial of word and sacraments as the
Spirit’s means of grace, and you begin to understand why the
great Revivalist Charles Finney made the essential test for worship forms a pragmatic one: Does it work to make converts? If
so, keep it; if not, discard it. “Finney and his associates represent
a liturgical revolution based on pure pragmatism,” writes James
White. “The test for worship is its effectiveness in producing
converts.” To this add a dose of th century liberalism and
you have a summary of Evangelical and Church Growth
thought which is not, I think, inaccurate:


Salvation is freedom from whatever keeps one
from a happy life. Robert Schuller says, “Find a need
and fill it.”
Christ is the Empowerer for meeting these perceived needs in Evangelical worship. “Jesus is held up
as the Giver of new life, the Performer of miracles . . .
the source of power for new God-pleasing living.”
Conversion is a free, cognitive choice and is,
therefore, accompanied by empirical evidence that the
choice for salvation has been made and that Christ,
the key to problem solving, has entered the picture.
Not the means of grace, but environment, ambience, and circumstance move people to a cognitive
choice for salvation.
Since conversion includes empirical evidence, the
environment, ambience and circumstance must be molded so that they are able to produce the empirical evidence.
The non-liturgical Evangelical worship style is based on
perfect Evangelical logic: Since salvation is what man perceives
he needs, since salvation is attained by a cognitive decision,
since the decision includes empirical evidence, since the evidence is brought about by environment, ambience and circumstance, people determine the form of worship in Evangelical churches. To put it simply: Culture sets the liturgy.
We have described the contemporary American culture
and its philosophy as being a blend of self-serving narcissism
and the opinio legis. We have pointed out the culture’s disenchantment with a “sin/forgiveness” religion and its antipathy
toward the traditional denominations. We are well aware of
the entertainment industry’s influence. We know about our
society’s lust for leisure, its love of instant pleasure and its
refusal to make lasting commitments. These are the forces
which combine to make our culture what it is. And it is this
culture which determines the style of Evangelical worship!
Given the presuppositions, it is little wonder that Evangelical worship is informal, casual, breezy, laid-back, non-traditional (although often including the nostalgic), encouraging no
commitment and including music in popular styles. Evangelical worship intends to make people happy, to put them at ease,
to allow them to feel good. When they feel good, they will be
eager to give themselves to Christ and so to gain his power for
becoming what they want to become. In many cases, what also
makes people feel good is a de-emphasis on sin as guilt, Christ
as redeemer and God as justifier. The Church Growth guru C.
Peter Wagner writes approvingly of Robert Schuller’s ministry:
He rarely quotes the Bible because he did a research
project some years ago and discovered that unchurched people in Orange County don’t believe the
Bible. So he directs his sermons to their felt needs
such as the family, their job, their financial situation,
their self-esteem or their emotions, explaining how
Jesus can meet those needs.
Wagner’s conclusion? “If you can serve a diet of positive
sermons focused on the real felt needs of the people, you will
be preaching for growth.”
It is not this writer’s intent to present a thorough analysis
of Evangelical and Church Growth theology and methodology.
There are several excellent studies available, and every Lutheran pastor (and many laypeople, for that matter) ought to read
at least one of them. This short summary means to prove the
premise, however, that Evangelical churches are not non-liturgical only or even primarily because they are evangelistic but
because a non-liturgical style matches their theology. Their
style is their substance!
Lutheran pastors need to come to grips with the reality
that not culture but God sets the liturgy. Obviously, I do not
mean that in an absolute sense. Martin Luther reestablished
the New Testament principle that form in worship is the free
choice of the church. When he presented his German order to
the people of his day he wrote, “We heartily beg, in the name of
The informal, non-liturgical style of
worship we find in Evangelical
churches was born out of a determined
effort to rescue the perishing.
Christ, that if in time something better should be revealed to
them (i.e., to other Christians) they should tell us to be silent,
so that by common effort we may aid the common cause.”
But to gain from Luther that, in worship, any style will do, is to
misread Luther. Werner Elert says this about the Reformer:
No matter how strongly he emphasizes the Christian
freedom in connection with the forms of this rite, no
matter how much he deviates from the form handed
down at the end of the Middle Ages, no matter how
earnestly he warns against the belief that external customs
could commend us to God, still there are certain ceremonial elements that he, too, regards as indispensable.
What Luther was not willing to abandon, as both his Latin
and German services show, was the basic structure of the historic Christian rite, which included the church year and the
Sacrament. In short, Luther was committed to liturgical worship. “For among Christians,” he wrote, “the whole service
should center on Word and Sacrament.” The Augsburg Confession and the Apology, composed within a decade after he
established his worship principles, echo Luther:
The Mass is retained among us and is celebrated with
the greatest reverence. Almost all the customary ceremonies are also retained. (AC XXIV, -)
So in our churches we willingly observe the order of
the Mass, the Lord’s day, and the other important
feast days. With a very thankful spirit we cherish the
useful and ancient ordinances. (Ap. VII & VIII, )
We can truthfully say that in our churches the public
liturgy is more decent than in theirs. (Ap. XV, -)
     
The Lutheran fathers understood what their sons need to
understand: The Lutheran Church is not liturgical only, or
even primarily, because this has been its tradition, but because
liturgical worship confesses its theology.
In every way the liturgy points the worshiper away from
himself and his culture and toward his Savior on the cross. The
liturgy always presents sin as damning guilt, Christ as atoning
mediator, God as justifying Father, conversion as free gift and
means of grace as Spirit’s tool. Therefore, the liturgy continually presents Christ in action for the world: “Lord, have mercy,”
“Glory be to God on high,” “I believe in God, the Father . . . ,”
“Holy, holy, holy, Lord God . . . ,” “O Christ, Lamb of God, you
take away the sins of the world.” The liturgy carries the worshiper through Christ’s birth, appearing, victory over Satan,
passion and death, resurrection, ascension and the commissioning of his church. The liturgy offers to the believer what
Christ told the church to offer, his body and blood, given and
shed for the forgiveness of sins. The liturgy does not care so
much how people feel about Christ, how they choose Christ
and what they do for Christ. It cares instead that Christ felt
enough love for the people to choose to give up his place in
heaven and come down to suffer and die. When it comes to the
Christian response, the liturgy expects what God has promised:
“My Word will not return empty, but will accomplish what I
desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it” (Is :).
The liturgy allows for response and even expects response, but
it correctly puts justification before sanctification and allows
the means of grace to promote sanctification according to the
Spirit’s desire and will (“It produced a crop—a hundred, sixty
or thirty times what was sown.” Mt :). In every way the
liturgy presents Christus pro nobis. Compare this liturgical text
(from the Service of Word and Sacrament in the new WELS
hymnal) with the testimonials, lifestyle preaching and popular
music so often found in Evangelical worship:
O Lord, our Lord,
how glorious is your name in all the earth.
Almighty God, merciful Father,
you crown our life with your love.
You took away our sin;
You comfort our spirit;
You make us pure and holy in your sight.
You did not spare your only Son,
but gave him up for us all.
O Lord, our Lord,
how glorious is your name in all the earth.
O Son of God, eternal Word of the Father,
You came to live with us;
You made your Father known;
You washed us from our sins in your own blood.
You are the King of Glory, you are the Lord!
O Lord, our Lord,
how glorious is your name in all the earth.
As liturgical worship confesses what the Lutheran Church
believes about Christ, so it confesses what we believe about the
word. Because Lutherans believe that the Holy Spirit works

through the word to create, maintain and strengthen faith, they
value the “pattern of sound teaching.” And nowhere is the pattern of sound teaching more important than in the forms of
corporate worship. For this reason the orthodox Lutheran
Church of the past and present views its liturgy as a precise
(though not exhaustive) confession of biblical theology.
Someone has properly called the hymnal the “layman’s
Bible,” for it is in hymns and liturgy that the majority of Christians regularly review the teachings of Scripture. Even before
the Reformation the church realized the influence worship
forms had on Christians. Luther’s enemies were convinced
that, by means of his hymns, Luther’s followers were singing
their way into hell. They understood the centuries-old principle lex orandi, lex credendi, i.e., the pattern of worship is the
pattern of faith. It was precisely for the cause of sound doctrine
among the people of the medieval church that the Nicene
Creed was added to the liturgy and the Festival of the Holy
Trinity to the church year. Lutherans have carefully observed
the same principle. In the years following , orthodox
Lutherans in Germany furiously opposed the Prussian king’s
pan-Prussian agenda because they realized that the addition of
only two words, “Jesus said,” before the distribution formula
(“Take eat, this is my body . . . ”) was a sellout to the king’s
Calvinistic citizens. Lutheran leaders in Germany and in the
United States (e.g., Wilhelm Loehe and Charles Porterfield
Krauth) realized that the Lutheran Church could not reclaim
its orthodox heritage and repudiate pietism and rationalism
without the liturgy. The Common Service was the result of
their determined efforts.
In many cases, what also makes people
feel good is a de-emphasis on sin as
guilt, Christ as redeemer and God as
justifier.
Liturgical worship neither insists nor expects that every
congregation will worship in lockstep formation. Not only our
doctrine but also the liturgy itself allows freedom and variety.
But since there is as much value in repetition as there is in variation, the liturgy offers an unchanging core which reviews the
most important teachings of Scripture Sunday by Sunday.
There is room in liturgical worship for some home-made
forms. There may be good reasons to use from time to time
what has not been tried and tested. There may even be a place
for what is avant garde, esoteric, unclear or simplistic. It is precisely so that there might be variety that the liturgy offers clarity in its unchanging core. And the liturgy serves even after false
doctrine has entered the church. Like the unfortunates of
Luther’s era, the poor people in many Lutheran churches do
not hear much of God’s word from their pulpits. But as in
medieval Europe, the liturgy proclaims the word and gives the
Spirit access to human hearts.
With this in mind the church has tended to look to its theologians to design its liturgical rite, just as it looks to theolo-


gians to draw up its confessions. Despite the fact that Luther
encouraged freedom he never expected that all worship forms
would come from the grass roots. The Lutheran Confessions
clearly say that “the congregation of God of every place and
every time has the power . . . to change such ceremonies in
such manner as may be most useful . . . ” (Formula of Concord, Epitome X). They say just as clearly:
Pastors and bishops may make regulations so that
everything in the churches is done in good order. It is
proper for the Christian assembly to keep such ordinances for the sake of love and peace, to be obedient
to the bishops and parish ministers in such matters,
and to observe the regulations in such a way that one
does not give offense to another and so that there may
be no disorder or unbecoming conduct in the church.
(Ap. XVIII, -)
There are good reasons why a standard liturgical core has
value in the church. One which is as important as any is that
not all pastors or worship committees have equal ability to
design worship forms that are clear and precise as well as beautiful and appealing. Luther hesitated to produce a replacement
for the historic Roman rite because he feared shocking the
weak. But he hesitated more because he did not want to
In every way the liturgy points the
worshiper away from himself and his
culture and toward his Savior on the
cross.
encourage a multitude of service orders from “fickle and fastidious spirits who rush in like unclean swine without faith or reason and who delight only in novelty and tire of it just as quickly when it has worn off.” Perhaps you can understand why
Luther added this admonition in his German service:
I would 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.
Liturgical worship expects that the liturgy will be used and
it expects that the liturgy will be right. As those expectations
are met, the Lutheran Church confesses what it believes about
the word.
Liturgical worship confesses what Lutherans believe about
the Christian. This essay has reviewed the New Testament
emphasis on worship as leitourgiva, the people’s work. Luther,
the champion of the doctrine of justification, was also the
emancipator of the believer at worship. To a medieval church
which had removed the action of worship from the believers
and reserved it for a “spiritual” caste of priests, monks and
nuns, Luther thundered:
All Christians are truly of the spiritual estate, and
there is no difference among them except that of
office. Paul says in  Corinthians that we are all one
body, yet every member has its own work by which it
serves the others. This is because we all have one baptism, one gospel, one faith, and are all Christians
alike; for baptism, gospel and faith alone make us
spiritual and a Christian people.
This is, of course, a summary of the doctrine of the priesthood of all believers. Luther made that doctrine come alive by
leading the people to worship by means of both hymns and
liturgy. He produced or borrowed settings for all the songs of
the Ordinary (Kyrie, Creed, Sanctus, etc.). While his versions
were paraphrases, th century Lutherans produced the musical settings of the historic prose texts we use in The Lutheran
Hymnal. Add to the parts of the Ordinary the hymns, recitations (of the Confession and the Creed), responsive prayers
and litanies (and, with the coming of the new hymnal, congregational settings of the Psalms) and you see how the Liturgy
prompts and promotes the people’s work. And the work of the
people is not only directed to God. By means of their participation the people also exercise their part in the ministry of the
gospel as they “speak to one another in psalms, hymns and
spiritual songs.” Consider how different the people’s action is
in liturgical worship and in the non-liturgical forms used in
Robert Schuller’s and D. James Kennedy’s churches!
Liturgical worship confesses what Lutherans believe about
the church. It was already John Calvin who felt few ties to the
church of history; he was not ready to emphasize either the
church’s continuity or its historic witness. He insisted, for
instance, that only Psalms could be sung in worship. His contemporaries maintained that the bread had to be received by
the communicants with their hands and that they had to gather
around the altar table, since such was the custom of the New
Testament. Luther understood that the forms of worship
found in the New Testament were descriptive but not prescriptive. Besides, he knew and valued the church’s historical voice.
Notice how often the fathers are quoted in the Lutheran Confessions. It was deeply comforting to Luther and his Wittenberg associates to know that their church was not a sectarian
renegade, but part of the continuity of the “one, holy, Christian and Apostolic Church.” In , just as he was mulling over
his worship principles, Luther wrote, “We teach nothing new.
We teach what is old and what the apostles and all godly teachers have taught.” With that idea in mind, Luther chose to
retain the church’s historic worship forms.
In the liturgy twentieth-century believers repeat word for
word forms which were repeated by believers in the second
century. In the liturgy Lutheran believers join with unseen and
unknown believers throughout the world. Recently a pastor
said, “When you make those liturgies, make them as different
as you can. I want my people to know instantly when they’re
not in a WELS church!” I wondered to what extreme he want-
     
ed us to go. Shall we eliminate the Apostles’ Creed and the
Lord’s Prayer? The Catholics are singing “A Mighty Fortress”
these days; should we keep that out of our new hymnal? In a
recent essay Prof. Theodore Hartwig presented an eloquent
(and more realistic, I think) summary of Lutheran thought on
this issue:
In matters of outward form, past Lutheran practice
. . . has avoided the sectarianism of going it alone,
being different, striving for the unique. Thus Luther
kept with the church year and the general structure of
the Mass inherited from the medieval church. . . .
Though for confessional reasons, we live in a state of
outwardly divided communions, the Christian
Church nevertheless remains a single, catholic community of believers confessing one Lord, one faith,
one baptism, one God and Father of all.
In this light would anyone want to gainsay that
the sameness of outward form . . . has been a heartwarming and compelling witness to the true unity of
the Church?
Liturgical worship confesses what the Lutheran Church
teaches about the arts and music. Again, the difference between
the liturgical Luther and the non-liturgical Calvin is striking.
In the forward to Johann Walther’s  hymnal, Luther wrote:
Nor am I of the opinion that the gospel should
destroy and blight all of the arts, as some of the superreligious claim. But I would like to see all the arts,
especially music, used in the service of him who gave
and made them. I therefore pray that every pious
Christian would be pleased with this and lend his help
if God has given him like or greater gifts.
Calvin, on the other hand, disallowed all but unaccompanied Psalm singing and never encouraged the artists of Geneva
or of Reformed Europe in any way or form.
The differences between Evangelicalism and Lutheranism
are more subtle, but just as real—and just as in step with the
theological emphasis of each. Lutheranism considers art to be a
part of worship and therefore calls for the giving of one’s best
to God. Whether in music, poetry, sculpture, tapestry, or
painting, whether in historic or contemporary form, Lutherans
bring their art first to God. But Lutherans also bring their art
for the benefit of their fellow believer and employ it in the
church to affect intellect and emotion for the strengthening of
faith. Thus art proclaims Christ and glorifies Christ at the same
time. The mainstream of Evangelicalism looks at art in the
same way it looks at all worship forms, i.e., with pure pragmatism: Does it “work” to meet the culture-influenced needs of
the seeker? Even some Evangelicals despair over this point of
view. Franky Schaeffer has written:
Today, Christian endeavor in the arts is typified by the
contents of your local Christian bookstore-accessoryparaphernalia shop. For the coffee table we have a set

of praying hands out of some sort of pressed muck.
Christian posters are ready to adorn your walls with
suitable Christian graffiti to sanctify them and make
them a justifiable expense. Perhaps a little plastic cube
with a mustard seed entombed within to boost your
understanding of faith. And as if this were not
enough, a toothbrush with a Bible verse stamped on
its plastic handle, and a comb with a Christian slogan
or two impressed on it. On a flimsy rack are stacked a
pile of records. You may choose them at random
blindfolded, for most of them will be the same idle
rehash of acceptable spiritual slogans, endlessly recycled as pablum for the tone-deaf, television-softened
brains of our present-day Christians.
In fact, without making the list endless, one could
sum up by saying that the modern Christian world
and what is known as evangelicalism is marked, in the
area of the arts and cultural endeavor, by one outstanding feature, and this is its addiction to mediocrity.
That’s strong language, but Schaeffer is not the only Evangelical making that kind of statement.
It was deeply comforting to Luther and
his Wittenberg associates to know that
their church was not a sectarian
renegade, but part of the continuity of
the “one, holy, Christian and Apostolic
Church.”
Within the liturgy the Christian artist has opportunities to
give his best to God and his Christ to his neighbor. The liturgy
almost demands music; it encourages the choir and the cantor/soloist. It seeks beauty of language in prayers and hymns. It
has room for respectable designs in architecture, symbolism
and ceremony. In countless ways liturgical worship allows
Lutherans to practice what they preach about art, which is a
gift of God, they say, ad gloriam Dei et aedificationem hominis.
Ought we to adopt an Evangelical style of worship for the
sake of carrying out the Great Commission? Liturgical worship, with its liturgy, church year and sacramental emphasis,
fits with what orthodox Lutherans have believed for more than
four centuries. Neither Luther nor his conservative descendants chose a liturgical style only or primarily for the sake of
tradition, but for the sake of confession. The non-liturgical
style of the Evangelicals is part of the substance of Evangelicalism. I cannot say that every liturgical denomination is also a
confessional denomination, or that everyone who chooses a
liturgical style chooses it for the right reason. Nor can one say
that any conservative Lutheran congregation which opts for a
non-liturgical style is flamingly Evangelical! However, in the
light of the evidence, we can and ought to ask: Why would one
want to adopt the Evangelical style?


This question becomes especially vital when we notice that
even some Evangelicals are beginning to see the emptiness of
their non-liturgical style. A recent issue of U.S. News and
World Report included an article on the growth of liturgical
churches. The article included an observation from a Church
of the Nazarene pastor, Randall Davey.
He found himself becoming increasingly dissatisfied
with what he sees as the “chatty informality” and the
“entertainment orientation” characteristic of much of
evangelical worship. “I felt something was radically
out of focus with a type of service that directed our
attention to ourselves and what benefits we derive
rather than to Christ.”
It seems to me that there is a sad irony in the fact that
some Lutherans seem to be moving toward a worship style
which even longtime proponents of the style have found to be
lacking.
PART III: LITURGICAL WORSHIP:
THE DEMAND FOR THE BEST
If Lutheran congregations retain a liturgical style of worship, are they destined for minimal growth at best and for losses at worst? David Luecke and Walther Kallestad contend that
perhaps they are, as we have noted. They are joined by a chorus
of witnesses from Evangelicalism, from the Church Growth
Movement and from that sector of Lutheranism which has
been influenced by Church Growth thought.
Confessional Lutheran pastors can be comforted in knowing that this “conventional wisdom” is aimed not only at liturgical churches but at any church which takes the message of
Scripture seriously. Conservative Protestants fall under criticism just as often as do liturgical Lutherans. We have reviewed
the close connection between Evangelical style and Evangelical
substance, and that review should have led us to understand
that it is as much the lifestyle salvation which draws the
unchurched to the Evangelicals as it is the non-liturgical style.
Lutheran church planters may be intrigued by Evangelical worship style, but they have no desire to empty themselves of
Lutheran substance. The reality is that the substance may turn
away the unchurched no matter what style we use to package
it. Recently I heard Pastor Robert Nordlie, an LCMS evangelism executive, tell a seminar audience that if we wanted to
eliminate from our worship everything which offends the
unchurched, we would have to eliminate the gospel! Nordlie
contended that Lutherans may as well retain liturgical style
because they are going to proclaim sin and grace anyway. He
insists, by the way, that liturgical churches can grow.
There are many who agree with him. The same issue of
The Lutheran which included Walther Kallestad’s article
“Entertainment Evangelism” featured four growing ELCA
churches which are decidedly liturgical. Randall Davey’s
Church of the Nazarene congregation in Overland Park,
Kansas is growing, too, as U.S. News and World Report noted.
The same article reported the spectacular growth experienced
in the last several years by the Anthiochan Orthodox Church!
Jeffrey Sheler concluded, “While no one expects ritualism to
replace evangelical traditions, there is a clear recognition that
the pendulum has begun to swing in that direction.” Even the
Pentecostals are experimenting with the liturgy, as Christianity
Today reported in September, . Randall Balmer noted that
Evangel Assembly of God Church in Valdosta, Georgia, was, in
, “the only Pentecostal church in the nation to open its service with a procession.” In a recent issue of the Wisconsin
Lutheran Quarterly Dr. John Brug commented on an article in
Bibliotheca Sacra (Dallas Theological Seminary) in which the
author contended that the three aspirations which today’s
church can and must address are the need for transcendence,
significance and community. Brug noted that
. . . the church can best address this need [transcendence] through worship which expresses a mixture of
awe, wonder and joy at the close encounter with the
living God. As Lutherans, we are especially equipped
to address this perceived need for transcendence if we
can communicate a fresh and clear understanding of
the depth and beauty of our worship tradition.
Even Lyle Schaller, the noted consultant and author, has
said that liturgical churches can attract people and grow, but
he added—and right at this point we must take note—they
must do their liturgical worship extremely well.
This question becomes especially vital
when we notice that even some
Evangelicals are beginning to see the
emptiness of their non-liturgical style.
It shouldn’t take a consultant to tell us that. It stands to
reason that God and our neighbor should receive our best as
we worship. But for one reason or another, we have taken our
inherited liturgical style and too often treated it like some
embarrassing old antique: we don’t like it, we don’t know what
to do with it, but we’re stuck with it. I must admit that even
before my work at the seminary increased my sensitivity in this
area, I was appalled too often at how I saw liturgical worship
abused in our congregations. I am not referring to a problem
of actual inability; I am speaking about poor preparation, both
for a specific liturgical service and for liturgical worship in general. It serves little purpose to present some catalog of testimonies, but this little article, clipped from a WELS congregation’s newsletter, illustrates my point:
What do we, the church’s current and future
leaders, accept as tolerable for ourselves and others?
Sundays we “go to church” because “we’re supposed to be there.” We walk in and pick up a bulletin.
Only nine typos this week! The ushers arrive after the
church is already half full. After everyone is seated,
     
they get to the real reason they came: to sit in the
narthex and talk. We enter the nave. Dusty? What is
that under the pew? The light bulb over the cracked
window has yet to be replaced. Then we notice the
quiet. Did the organ conk out again? No, wait, here
she comes, books flying! “What a crazy week! No time
to practice!” No kidding! We stumble through the
first hymn as we take off our coats and comb our hair.
The liturgy begins: “ . . . that we are by nature sinful
and unclean . . . ” The glassy smooth flow is broken by
the Scripture lessons. Is this the first time he’s read
them through? The choir is next. Something akin to
dragging a fingernail across a blackboard. No wonder
the good singers in the church don’t join. The sermon
text is read—and never mentioned again. In  minutes it’s over. It sounded familiar, especially the story
about the doctor’s car. . . . 
Obviously, the problems with worship are not that severe
at every WELS congregation on every Sunday of the year, and
one hesitates to generalize. But Larry Peters has noticed the
same kind of problem in the Missouri Synod which some have
noticed in the WELS. He wrote:
Lutherans have generally not done a great job utilizing the resources for worship their liturgical forms
provide. It is a sad truth that much Lutheran worship
is dull, boring, and seemingly irrelevant. This is an
abuse of the liturgical form and not a proper use of
it.
Anyone who insists that visitors are “turned off” by liturgical worship must first ask himself if it is the liturgy or the way
the liturgy is done which offends. If the charge has any validity
that we have failed to put our best efforts into worship, we have
come to a serious matter. If we give less than our best in worship, we offend God, for we take advantage of his gracious offer
to receive our praise. Furthermore we offend our visitors,
because we give them the impression that it is permissible to
take advantage of God’s grace.
Let’s not dwell on the abuses, however, but rather on better uses of a liturgical style of worship.
Let me begin by suggesting that the time has come to be
done with the proliferation of home-made services and return
to a unified liturgical pattern. For twenty years pastors in our
synod have been coming to the conclusion that the liturgical
service in The Lutheran Hymnal is inadequate for their purposes. The fact of the matter is, it is likely inadequate for all purposes. Unfortunately, we have not had much to replace it. During these last years we have entered what I call the “liturgical
period of the judges, in which everyone does what is right in
his own eyes.” The Lutheran Hymnal has become one of many
worship books and hymnals which pastors use as resources.
These join to become a liturgical salad bar from which we take
a little of this and a little of that. For ten years this writer was as
much involved in this as anyone. Let’s face it: hymnal revision
was long overdue.

Within several months a new hymnal will be ready for use
in WELS churches. Many of our congregations have reviewed
the services which will appear in that hymnal. I sincerely
believe that these new services will serve the needs of outreach
and evangelism.
But if they are going to serve our congregation we will
have to use them. A commitment to use them means that we
have accepted the concept that there is great value in a repeated, theologically precise liturgical core. I have already summarized how that concept squares with our doctrine of the word. I
repeat here that no one is asking for lockstep submission; I
reiterate that both our doctrine and the liturgy allow for variety. But I encourage you with Luther’s own words:
I pray all of you, my dear sirs, let each one surrender
his own opinion and get together in a friendly way
and come to a common decision about these external
matters, so that there will be one uniform practice. . . .
[For] those who ordain and establish nothing succeed
only in creating as many factions as there are heads, to
the detriment of Christian harmony and unity.
Is there, in this advice, the inherent implication that the
new rites prepared for the hymnal are better in one way or
another than those prepared in pastors’ studies? I think not.
But it stands to reason that a committee of seven men with
wide-ranging pastoral backgrounds, with almost two hundred
years of combined experience, and with a deep interest in and a
thorough knowledge of worship forms and theology are going
Anyone who insists that visitors are
“turned off ” by liturgical worship
must first ask himself if it is the liturgy
or the way the liturgy is done which
offends.
to be able to produce something over a period of five years
(with help from critical review and field testing) which has at
least as much value as a form which is composed in a pastor’s
busy office late on a Thursday night. If one is willing to grant
these new services at least an equal value, then the observation
that their use will bring about some liturgical unity in our synod ought to tip the scales in favor of using them.
The second suggestion I want to make has to do with the
differences between liturgical and traditional. There have been
no pleas in this essay for the retaining of The Lutheran Hymnal.
I have indicated that I feel its time has passed. Obviously, there
are valuable jewels in that book which ought to be cherished,
but at present many of them are being stored in linguistic and
artistic styles which are outdated and passe. Let us beware of
hanging on to those styles, even though, for the sake of tradition, many long-time WELS and former LCMS Lutherans
encourage us to do so. The felt need for the “traditional” way


can interfere with vital gospel proclamation as surely as can the
felt need for stress management. It is one matter to retain a
general worship style because it inherently confesses Lutheran
theology; it is another to retain a particular worship form
because it has been our tradition. If David Luecke is thinking
of worship which stubbornly retains forms only for the sake of
tradition, he is probably correct when he writes:
I think Lutherans shape and package their Gospel offering according to the felt needs of only a small segment
of American society. That market is getting smaller. . . .
Can Lutherans package their offering better?
I think we can, and as someone who has seen all of the
new hymnal’s services, I think we have.
Pastors need to lead the way as
congregations strive to place into the
service of the King of kings that which
is an offering worthy of his attention.
My third suggestion concerns not the liturgical core, but
that which surrounds the core. In this basket I include language, music, liturgical art (in brass, wood, tapestry, etc.), symbolism, ceremony and architecture. It would be wise for us to
pay more attention to the gifts God has given to his church
which serve as vessels for our praise and his proclamation. We
have heard the charge that liturgical worship drives away the
visitors. But I wonder how many artistically sensitive searchers
have left a WELS worship service disgusted by cheap, mundane
and trivial language, music and art. We justify too much shoddiness too often. This has to do with what we do as worship
leaders and what we allow as worship leaders. Francis Rossow
wrote:
The foolishness of preaching consists in its content, not
its style. What is foolish is our message, not the manner
of communicating the message. The foolishness of
preaching does not necessitate foolish preaching.
Years ago Martin Marty complained, “More junk, more
tawdriness, more slip-shodhood, more mediocrity is peddled
in church circles than in many others. Yet are we not supposed
to give God our best gifts?” Pastors need to lead the way as
congregations strive to place into the service of the King of
kings that which is an offering worthy of his attention.
Recently, I came across two items which will be helpful in
applying the principle which has been presented in this section
of the essay. First, from Parish Renewal: Theses and Implications
by Pastor Paul Kelm:
Worship must be what the church does best, for in our
worship we minister to the greatest number of our
members and introduce visitors to our Lord. Our worship is still the most apparent statement of the “worth”
we ascribe to our God. The challenge for Lutherans
today is to combine the best of our tradition with contemporary communication, to be both faithful to
Scripture and relevant to contemporary life, to touch
head and heart with the message of sin and grace in an
age of anti-Christian philosophy, to lift refugees from
a jaded generation in praise to their God.
a) Lutherans must strive for the best preaching
possible. That is the product of quality time spent in
text study and sermon preparation. Preachers need
continuing education in homiletics. Those whose
dominant gifts lie in other areas of ministry can benefit from published sermon studies. We need to be
both open to the Lord as we study his Word and open
to improvement in our crafting and delivery of the
message.
b) Lutheran worship should have clear liturgical
progression and a “freshness” each week that is combined with familiarity. That requires easy-to-follow
orders of worship, a “personal” tone by the officiant
and his conviction that corporate worship is much
more than sandwiching a sermon.
c) Lutherans will want to offer the best instrumental and choral music possible. That will mean
training opportunities for church musicians and the
availability of music appropriate to a variety of abilities, occasions and preferences. That may mean more
than one choir where possible, with varied musical
styles. That may mean more than one musical instrument.
d) Lutheran worship should combine warmth
and reverence, avoiding the extremes of cold ritual
and trivial fads. That means attention to detail so that
slip-ups don’t distract our focus. That means also a
style of leading worship that reflects God’s love for
people.
e) The Lord’s Supper should have deep significance and a clear focus on God’s grace. Churches may
need to find better ways to prepare communicants for
the sacrament than the sign-up sheets which have
replaced the confessional service and personal “communion announcements” of an earlier generation.
Secondly, from an essay prepared for the LCMS Commission on Worship by Larry Peters:
It may come as a great surprise to many that
liturgical worship does not mean a rigid formalism.
The goal of liturgy is not to recreate a Gothic cathedral setting or any other ideal. The goal of liturgy is to
provide an outline of what is believed and to give the
local community of believers the freedom to use that
form as elaborately or simply as they choose and their
context allows.
     
The responsibility for planning and presiding at
liturgy is not an easy one. It requires a deep familiarity
with the form, its options and opportunities, and a
close familiarity with the local context, the people of a
given congregation, their culture, and their roots. It is
not enough for Lutherans to hide behind a book or a
liturgical form expecting the unchurched to drop into
the pews informed about and appreciative of the liturgy. We must work to present the form in a way which
neither confuses nor confounds the visitor or new
Christian. Examine some worship bulletins and you
will find an array of directions, references, and technical jargon decipherable only to the active member of
long standing. Lutherans must learn to use common
sense and carefully present the liturgy so that its use is
a joy instead of a burden.
No congregation can do all things well. Choose
carefully what can be done well and build upon it. A
simple, spoken liturgy is a much more eloquent
spokesman for the faith than an elaborately sung
liturgy which is done poorly. If the liturgy requires
too many explanations, page turns, or verbal directions, it will distract and frustrate even the informed
worshiper. Especially in the new mission, printing out
the liturgy and hymns each week may be an important key to the success of the service.
Presiding at the liturgy is a gift which must be
developed. Those leading worship need to remember
that their responsibility is pivotal to the success of the
liturgy. Plan carefully. Choose the themes to be emphasized and use all the resources of the liturgy toward that
purpose. Be deliberate and construct each service intentionally. Effective liturgy and worship is never an accident. Plan for the flow of what is happening and help
the service move logically from one part to another.
No tradition depends more upon the music of
the service than does the Lutheran. Use competent
musicians and be prepared to compensate them adequately and include them in the worship planning.
Rehearse the liturgy with those who will lead it before
the service and iron out any problems prior to the service time. It has been generally assumed by some that
“good Lutheran hymnody” is unsingable while
“gospel hymns” are known and loved by all (except
pastors). There are both good and bad hymns to be
found in Lutheran and Gospel hymnody. Hymns and
choral music should be chosen for the content of the
words, for the way the melody supports the text, and
with an eye toward the musical ability of the parish
musicians and the congregational singers. Good
musical leadership can help a hesitant congregation
through a difficult hymn while even the most singable
hymn can be rendered impossible by weak musical
leadership. If you are using contemporary “Scripture”
songs, there is a difference between good and bad.
Make sure you have an idea of the distinction and do
not abandon traditional hymnody altogether.
Lutherans need to watch their vocabulary. Technical jargon exists in every group. Lutherans must
become “bilingual.” Learn to use the language of
today and especially of the growing Evangelical
churches as well as the traditional Lutheran liturgical
and theological vocabulary. Sermons should express
the faith less in terms of logical truth propositions and
more through picture language. A good sermon not
only appeals to the intellect but paints memorable
pictures upon the canvas of the heart as well. Sermons
should not be directed only to the emotions but
Lutheran preachers need to preach more to the heart
as well as the head. Preachers also need to be more
attentive to the people and become more aware of
how the listener is following the sermon. While some
may be suspicious of preachers in general, most listen
carefully to see if the preacher is genuine (believing
what he says) and personal (identifying with his people and the message he proclaims). Good preaching,
like good liturgy, is seldom an accident. Both require
hard work.
Lutherans need to watch their
vocabulary. Technical jargon exists in
every group. Lutherans must become
“bilingual.” Learn to use the language
of today and especially of the growing
Evangelical churches as well as the
traditional Lutheran liturgical and
theological vocabulary.
Good worship is inspirational. When the liturgy
celebrates the Good News of God’s love in Christ
Jesus, it should encourage, uplift, and inspire. No one
wants to leave the church depressed. Part of the task
of the liturgy is to encourage people to lose themselves in the adoration of God and in the grace God
provides through Word and Sacrament. Reverence
does not mean somber. The liturgy, like the sermon,
will reflect the joy and excitement of the people leading and responding to it. If the people leading worship are stiff, wooden and unnatural, the liturgy will
be stiff, wooden, and unnatural. We need to use the
resources the liturgy provides to build community
through a warm, welcome and natural style. When
the person presiding communicates a warm, comfortable, personable style, then the liturgy will be seen as
warm and welcoming and natural to the people using
it. Those leading worship need to allow some of their
personal excitement and joy to show through as they
preside. An honest smile and an attitude of concern
and affection should not be hidden behind a “pulpit



tone” or a worship personality distinct from the personality of the presider outside the chancel.
We must be aware of who the congregation is. A
congregation of young families is a different congregation than one made up of middle-aged and retired folk.
Those planning worship must be cognizant of those
who will be worshiping and how that affects the liturgy.
Parents with small children cannot be expected to sit as
quietly as an elderly group of people. They cannot juggle hymnals, bulletins, and inserts (can anyone?).
CONCLUSION
Despite everything we know about the slow working of the
word, the Spirit’s own timetable and God’s planting and watering promises, we want our churches to grow. We live in a
growth-oriented society, and, sometimes, even the church
gives the impression that success is gauged by numbers. We are
only being consistent with our culture when we fret about
growth. The fire in our hearts for the lost only makes the fretting more real.
“It is required that those who have been given a trust must
prove faithful.” God calls us to faithfully proclaim Christ
through the means of grace. God calls us to faithfully bring
him our worship and to lead others to do the same. Faithfulness is faithfulness, whether God grants visible success or
whether he does not. God has not asked us to grow the church.
This task he has assumed for himself. He has asked us to be
faithful and promised that, in his own way, he will be fruitful.
I submit to you that we can be faithful in both our proclamation and our praise through the vehicle called liturgical worship, a worship style which retains the core of the historic
Christian liturgy, employs the church year and emphasizes the
Sacrament. I believe this point of view is consistent with that of
Luther (our situational as well as our theological brother), as I
have tried to show. I do not make liturgical style a law, as
Luther did not, but like him I recommend it with what I feel is
sound and scriptural logic. I also believe that history will show
that the liturgy, carefully prepared and pastorally led, has contributed as much to the growth of disciples inside and outside
the church as anything the church has ever done. This is true, I
believe, because the liturgy showcases that which the Holy
Spirit uses to make disciples: word and sacrament. Harold
Senkbeil defends the Lutheran liturgical style like this:
The Lutheran Church has a rich legacy to offer in
its worship. Here is reality, not symbolism. Here we
have real contact with God; not as we come to him,
but as he comes to us. He meets us in the proclamation of the Word. Here the Son of God distributes his
actual body and blood for the forgiveness of sins.
Here the people of God gather to offer him their
thanks, their praise and their prayers. This is the real
thing.
It’s time for a new initiative in worship. People
are longing for God. Where are they going to find
him? In the shifting sands of their inner life or on the
solid rock of his gospel? How are they to offer him
their thanks and praise? With trivial methods borrowed from the entertainment industry or in worship
forms which focus on the praise of God’s gracious
glory? This is the kind of worship which lifts the heart
while it exults Christ. And this is what Lutheran worship does.
Our era is not the first in American church history in
which Lutherans have been intrigued by the growth potential of
a non-liturgical worship style. One hundred and fifty years ago
Lutherans were also casting envious glances at the Evangelicals
(then called Revivalists). Both America’s lone Lutheran seminary (Gettysburg) and its most influential Lutheran voice (The
Lutheran Observer) were advocating the full use of revivalistic
methods in worship. It is interesting (and frightening!) to
note that the same voices were denouncing the Augsburg Confession because it accepted the doctrines of baptismal regeneration and the real presence in the Lord’s Supper! By God’s grace
(and through the efforts of a few of his good men like Charles
Porterfield Krauth and C.F.W. Walther) Lutheranism reclaimed
its liturgy—and its confessionalism.
As other Lutheran congregations explore opportunities for
outreach, they will take note of what those in the vanguard are
doing. They will watch the pattern of those who are most committed to outreach—and many will follow it. By God’s grace
and with the Spirit’s power, may you bring in a rich harvest and
add many to the dignity and destiny of his elect. By God’s grace
and with the Spirit’s wisdom, may you set a course for your
church that will allow it to retain that which truly grows the
church: Christ for us and the Spirit’s means of grace.
LOGIA
     

NOTES
. Martin Luther, Luther’s Works, American Edition
(Philadelphia: Fortress Press, ) Vol. , p. .
. AE , p. .
.AE , p. .
. David Luecke, Evangelical Style and Lutheran Substance
(St. Louis: Concordia, ) p. .
. Luecke, p. .
. Walther Kallestad, “Entertainment Evangelism,” The
Lutheran, May , , p. .
. Martin E. Marty, “From the Editor,” The Christian Century, October , .
. Martin Luther, What Luther Says, E. Plass, ed. (St. Louis:
Concordia, ) p. .
. Carl Halter, The Practice of Sacred Music (St. Louis:
Concordia, ) p. .
. Peter Brunner, Worship in the Name of Jesus (St. Louis:
Concordia, ) p. .
. Brunner, p. .
 Werner Elert, Eucharist and Church Fellowship in the
First Four Centuries (St. Louis: Concordia, ) pp. -.
. AE , p. .
. Richard Neuhaus, “The Lutheran Difference,” Lutheran Forum, Reformation, .
. Luecke, p. .
. Win Arn, “How To Attract First-Time Visitors,” The
Win Arn Growth Report, Number .
. Duane Arnold and George Fry, “Weothscrip,” Eternity,
September, .
. C. Peter Wagner, Your Church Can Grow (Glendale,
Calif.:Regal Books, ) p. .
. James F. White, Protestant Worship: Traditions in Transition (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, ) p. .
. White, p. .
. Luecke, p. .
. C. Peter Wagner, Leading Your Church to Growth (Ventura, Calif.: Regal Books, ), p. .
. Wagner Leading, p. .
. Four studies are suggested:
Harold Senkbeil, Sanctification (Milwaukee: Northwestern, ).
David Valleskey, “Evangelical Lutheranism and
Today’s Evangelicals and Fundamentalists,” Wisconsin Lutheran Quarterly, Vol. , No. .
David Valleskey, “The Church Growth Movement:
An Evaluation,” Wisconsin Lutheran Quarterly,
Vol. , No. .
Robert Koester, Law and Gospel: The Foundation of
Lutheran Ministry With Reference to the Church
Growth Movement,  (Milwaukee: Northwestern Publishing House, ).
. AE , p. .
. Werner Elert, The Structure of Lutheranism, p. 
(translated by Larry Vogel in an article in Concordia Theological Journal).
. AE , p. .
. AE , p. .
. AE , p. .
. AE , p. .
. Martin Luther, What Luther Says, p. .
. Theodore J. Hartwig, “The Creeds in Contemporary
English,” Wisconsin Lutheran Quarterly, Vol. , No. , p. .
. AE , p. .
. Luther D. Reed, The Lutheran Liturgy (Philadelphia:
Fortress, ) p. .
. Franky Schaeffer, Addicted to Mediocrity (Westchester,
Ill.: Good News Publications, ) pp. -.
. Jeffrey L. Sheler, “From Evangelicalism to Orthodoxy,”
U.S. News and World Report, January , , p. .
. Sheler, p. .
. Randall Balmer, “Why the Bishops Came to Valdosta,”
Christianity Today, September , , p. .
. John Brug, “Perceived Needs,” Wisconsin Lutheran
Quarterly, Vol. , No. , pp. -.
. Schaller’s comments were made to a meeting of the
Lutheran Council in the United States of America just before
the formation of the ELCA. They are mentioned by Larry
Peters in his essay. Cf. note # .
. The Lion’s Mouth, newsletter of St. Mark’s Church,
Mankato, Minnesota, February, .
. Larry Peters, Lutheran Worship and Church Growth, an
essay prepared for and distributed by the Lutheran Church—
Missouri Synod’s Commission on Worship.
. AE , pp. -.
. Luecke, p. .
. Francis Rossow, Preaching the Creative Gospel Creatively (St. Louis: Concordia, ) p. .
. Martin Marty, Context, July , .
. Paul Kelm, Parish Renewal: Theses and Implications, a
document available through the Wisconsin Synod’s Spiritual
Renewal office.
. Peters, pp. -.
. Senkbeil, p. .
. E. Clifford Nelson’s church history text, The Lutherans
in North America, includes this quote from an article by Benjamin Kurtz in the December ,  issue of The Lutheran
Observer: “If the great object of the anxious bench [the emotional, revivalistic style] can be accomplished in some other
way, less obnoxious but equally efficient—be it so. But we
greatly doubt this. We consider it necessary in many cases, and
we believe there are circumstances when no measure equally
good can be substituted. Hence we are free to confess that we
go for this measure with all our heart” (italics in the original).
A Confessional Lutheran
Encounters American Religion
The Case of Friedrich Conrad Dietrich Wyneken
DAVID A. GUSTAFSON
j
A
MERICA HAS ALWAYS POSED MANY PROBLEMS TO IMMI-
emphasis on the right to private judgment in matters of biblical interpretation and doctrine. American Protestantism
stressed the necessity of a personal conversion experience,
which was accomplished through revivals, the “New Measures”; it had adopted a sacramental theology that was more
akin to the views of the Swiss reformer Zwingli than those of
Luther or Calvin, in spite of the fact that Calvinism had been a
strong religious force in seventeenth-century America. These
common characteristics are important because they were issues
in what has been called the American Lutheran controversy.
This controversy involved the issue of Lutheranism’s very
identity. The so-called “American” Lutherans, led by Samuel
Simon Schmucker (-), professor at the Lutheran Seminary in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and Benjamin Kurtz (), the editor of a publication called the Lutheran Observer,
were descendants of early Lutheran immigrants. They had
become accustomed to the American religious scene and had
made many accommodations in both theology and worship.
The “American” Lutherans advocated a Lutheranism that possessed the characteristics of American Protestantism. The confessional Lutherans, led by William Julius Mann (-)
and Charles Porterfield Krauth (-), defended traditional Lutheran theology and worship forms. They stated, unequivocally, that Lutheranism in America should be distinctly
Lutheran and not try to imitate or accommodate other religious groups.
This essay deals with another strong advocate of confessional Lutheranism, Friedrich Conrad Dietrich Wyneken (). Wyneken is best known as the man who succeeded
C.F.W. Walther as president of the Missouri Synod. Earlier in
his ministry, however, Wyneken was a pastor in the Synod of
the West, which was connected with the General Synod of the
Evangelical Lutheran Church in the United States, then the
largest Lutheran ecclesiastical body in America. In that context,
Wyneken became involved in what eventually became the
American Lutheran controversy.
German immigration increased in the s. The immigrants
came for many reasons, but many Lutherans moved to America
because they were opposed to the union of Lutherans and
Reformed that had been forced upon them in Germany. These
immigrants were products of the confessional renewal in Germany
and were an important influence on Lutheranism in America.
grants. These immigrants brought with them their
languages, customs and religious beliefs. When they
arrived in America, they found themselves in a new setting and
unfamiliar circumstances. How would they adjust? What
changes would be required of them? How many and what kind
of accommodations would they have to make? The process of
acculturation is called Americanization. Every group of immigrants had to deal, in one way or another, with that crucial
issue; conflict was almost inevitable as members of each group
chose different ways to make a home for themselves in their
new country.
Lutherans also faced this conflict as they struggled with
what it meant to maintain their faith in the new land. Should
they strive to maintain their distinctive confessional identity,
or should they give up that identity and become more like the
various religious groups that dotted the American landscape?
Protestantism was a prominent force in America. All of
the established churches of Europe were represented in America, as well as the various separatist and dissenting groups that
had fled persecution in Europe to find a safe haven in the new
world. Add to these groups that originated in America, such as
the Mormons, and the result was a religious pluralism
unknown in Europe. No state church commanded the allegiance of the citizenry; the various groups existed side by side,
each attempting to win numbers to its fold. Freedom of religion was a reality in America. People could choose to belong to
any church or they could choose not to belong at all.
American Protestants, however, shared a common vision
of America. From its beginnings, America was viewed as the
fulfillment of the millennial hope. American Protestants
believed that the Protestant empire in America would bring
about the millennium. Although Protestantism in America was
divided into many segments, it was, to some extent, unified
because the various denominations possessed certain common
characteristics. American Protestantism was vehemently antiCatholic; it was strongly individualistic—as evidenced by the
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DAVID A. GUSTAFSON is pastor of Peace Lutheran Church, Poplar,
Wisconsin. His book, Lutherans in Crisis, has recently been published
by Fortress Press.

     
Wyneken was among those immigrants. He was born in
Verden, Hanover, Germany—the son of a Lutheran pastor. He
began his formal education in the local gymnasium. He completed his theological studies at the Universities of Göttingen
and Halle. Wyneken tutored a young nobleman and then
became rector of the Latin School in Bremerford. He decided
to go to America after reading about the plight of the Lutheran
immigrants in theological journals and church papers. He
arrived in America in .
After a short stay in Baltimore, Wyneken received a commission from the Pennsylvania Ministerium to serve as a missionary in Adams and Allen Counties, Indiana. A pastor
named James Hoover had served in the area and had organized
two congregations in and around Fort Wayne, but he died after
only two years of service. Both parishes wanted Wyneken to be
their pastor, but he went into western Indiana, organizing several congregations in that part of the state.
In the many letters he sent to Germany, Wyneken
expressed his concern about the need for more missionaries to
serve the German immigrants. Four missionaries responded
and came from Germany in -. In , Wyneken went
to Germany to recruit more workers and to receive treatment
for a throat ailment. While there, he gave presentations on the
religious life in America, which included a demonstration of
the “New Measures” to his audience. Wyneken advocated a
confessional Lutheranism and had great appreciation for liturgical forms, which he saw as alternatives to American camp
meetings and the “New Measures.”
Wyneken remained in Europe until  and, as a result of
his work in Germany, he gained assistance for the cause of the
German immigrants in America. Wilhelm Löhe, noted for
sending German pastors to America, helped that cause by
organizing the Nothilfer (emergency helpers) program. An
accelerated pastoral training program was also established
through which men and their families could come to America,
receive additional theological education at Fort Wayne, and
then go into the missionary work.
Wyneken’s pamphlet, Die Noth der deutschen Lutheraner
in Nordamerika (The Distress of the German Lutherans in
North America), is an important work because it deals with
the process of Americanization and expresses concern over
the religious condition of German Lutherans in America.
Written in , it was published about a year after Wyneken
arrived in Germany and was designed to explain to Germans
what was happening to German Lutherans as they settled in
America. The earliest edition was published in the Zeitschrift
für Protestantismus und Kirche. This German church paper
was published at Erlangen and edited by Professor Gottlieb
Christoph Adolf von Harless (-), a noted proponent
of confessional Lutheranism. The first American edition
appeared in the church paper Die Lutheranische Kirchenzeitung, published in  at Pittsburgh by Pastor Friederich
Schmidt.
Wyneken began The Distress with an emotional appeal for
Lutherans to come to the aid of the German people who had
gone to America. He continued by speaking of “the misery of
your Lutheran brothers in America.”

Wyneken first pointed out that German Lutherans in
America were without the blessings of the church. Many who
had moved into the cities had fallen into all sorts of vices and
had no discipline. Others, who had rid themselves of the bonds
of the church, lived in outward respectability but were without
God, the church and hope. Wyneken stated that the pastors in
America had to concentrate on the people in the congregations, which left those outside the congregations with no one
to see to their spiritual needs. Missionaries were needed to
reach them. Such conditions left these people vulnerable to
“hirelings” who fed the people lies and who were imposters.
Wyneken used as an example one “self-made clergyman” who
had been unmasked as a child molester. Imposters abounded,
and people accepted them, without asking for credentials,
because they needed a preacher.
Impiety was commonplace because there was no one to
preach the gospel to the people out on the frontier. Wyneken
observed: “Bibles and prayerbooks are, unfortunately, often
also left at home since the people have lost the taste for them
through ‘enlightenment,’ and it isn’t even worth sticking out
one’s hand for the improved catechisms and watered-down
hymnals. No preacher comes to shake them out of their earthly
striving and thinking, and the voice of the gospel has not been
heard for a long time.”
Under these conditions, even if there was a spiritual longing, that longing soon disappeared. Wyneken cited several
examples of “gross indifference.” Wyneken was concerned that
hundreds were being deprived of what was necessary—baptism, preaching, and the sacrament of the body and blood of
Christ. Without sermons, instruction and someone to confirm
the children, there could only be one result—German heathens!
Wyneken advocated a confessional
Lutheranism and had great
appreciation for liturgical forms,
which he saw as alternatives to American camp meetings and the “New
Measures.”
Wyneken gave a realistic description of conditions on the
frontier: “The area in which our German people settle is getting even larger, the number of those suffering spiritual need
continues to grow; and it is getting harder and harder to watch
over this tremendously large region and help lessen the misery.
Therefore my appeal to your hearts: Help in the name of Jesus!
Help because the need is ever urgent. What will become of our
brethren in ten or twenty years if there is no help?”
The second section of Wyneken’s work concerned
Lutheranism’s enemies in America—sects and the Roman
Catholic Church. Wyneken described a number of native sects,
of which the Methodists were the most numerous. He then
turned to the “New Measures.” He described the activities that
occurred at protracted meetings—the moanings and groan-


ings, the anxious bench, the “most awful gyrations and gestures.” Wyneken commented: “The sects regard these striking
occurrences, although they continue to be repeated again and
again, as an act of the Holy Spirit; I have, however, never been
able to overcome a horror for the demonical power at such
happenings.” Wyneken observed that the Lutheran congregations were suffering because of these practices—“Everything
takes its peaceful, quiet course in accordance with the written
Word. Suddenly a sectarian preacher comes bursting into the
congregation and, with noise, screaming and howling,
announces the judgment they must fear if they do not honestly
convert.”
“Bibles and prayerbooks are,
unfortunately, often also left at home
since the people have lost the taste for
them through ‘enlightenment’. . . .”
Wyneken believed such practices were disastrous. They
caused people to question their faith; they caused people to
trust in their own emotions and deeds instead of the promises
of God; they resulted in people being confused, wondering if
their “conversion” was genuine. Finally, the congregations
experienced disruption and the sobriety disappeared. Those
who had not come to the “new life” were despised, people
judged one another, parties were formed, the devil had entered
the church. Wyneken noted that the sects held the sacraments
in contempt, whereas Lutherans understood the sacraments as
things that build up, hold the congregation together, and nourish the people. In the sects, baptism ceased to be a cleansing
from sin and a washing of regeneration and became a mere ceremony where one confesses one’s faith and repents. Holy Communion was nothing more than a commemorative meal with
which one could dispense. Wyneken commented: “To them the
sacraments are mere signs in the shallowest sense, and infant
baptism is decreasing more and more in America, being viewed
as an un-Christian abomination, as the main cause of all ruin
and death which has broken out over Christianity!”
Wyneken regarded the Roman Catholic Church as a threat
because of its solidarity and endless resources. Unlike Lutherans, the Roman Catholic Church had a surplus of priests and
supplied their people with both priests and churches. Roman
Catholic schools and hospitals were also evidence of Catholicism’s strength. Wyneken believed that the Roman Catholic
Church could grow in America because of the freedom there.
He also noted that it lumped all other groups together as
“Protestants” and then proceeded to show the inconsistencies
of Protestants.
Even though Wyneken was wary of the Roman Church, he
saw similarities between the plight of Lutherans and Roman
Catholics. Both were attacked by Protestants, who criticized
the doctrines of Holy Communion, Baptism, the church, confession and the Office of the Keys. Wyneken observed that
“Protestants” could not distinguish between Lutheran and
Roman teachings. There were differences, however, and
Wyneken saw the Roman Catholic Church as a threat to
Lutheranism. Wyneken feared the “Roman threat” and
believed that only the Lutheran Church could defeat the
Roman Church.
Lutheranism in America suffered from internal shortcomings and lacked external unity. Pastors were few, and synods
were large. Wyneken used the Synod of the West, to which he
belonged, as an example, a synod that encompassed four states.
Following his discussion of the common problems faced by the
Lutheran church in America, Wyneken analyzed the General
Synod. Wyneken felt that the General Synod “for the most
part, embraces opponents.” Regarding most of the Englishspeaking Lutherans, he said: “While they are enthusiastic about
the name ‘Lutheran,’ they most shamelessly and impertinently
attack the teachings of our church and endeavor to spread their
false doctrines, chiefly with regard to Baptism and Communion, in sermons, and particularly through their publications
and newspapers.” Wyneken stated that these Lutherans were
defenders of the “New Measures” and he felt they were
Methodistic in their approach to conversion. In Wyneken’s
opinion, the seminary at Gettysburg would become a tool to
help destroy the church if it did not change. Wyneken also
thought that attempts at union between Lutherans and
Reformed would only result in laxity and indifference regarding doctrine.
Wyneken believed his distress call was a matter of survival.
In particular, he feared that the “Methodistic spirit” would
soar and infect most of Christendom. America was the battleground, and the task of Lutherans in America was to halt the
missionary efforts of the Baptists and Methodists. He asked his
German audience to look to the future. If German Lutherans
were unwilling to act, people would fall into the hands of the
sectarians and their intoxicating emotions on one hand or the
“willing Roman mother” on the other. He noted: “The Roman
Church also offers enough to keep the flickering eyes of the
power of imagination and spasmodically craving emotion
occupied, even if it can neither satisfy a Christian’s deep longing nor the heart of its deepest needs.” Scripturally and confessionally faithful preachers were needed to create a union of
orthodox synods. Wyneken noted that a change was occurring
in that direction, and he put forth the vision of a unified
Lutheranism that would witness to America, Germany and the
world. He advocated sound training of pastors who would
work together, introduce the old Lutheran worship services,
follow the services, introduce private confession, and affiliate
all the congregations with synods.
Friedrich Wyneken’s The Distress of the German Lutherans
in North America is an often overlooked but perceptive evaluation of the problems that faced German Lutheran immigrants
once they reached America’s shores. It is a classic statement of
the problem of Americanization from one who personally
experienced that phenomenon and who ministered to others
who were undergoing tremendous changes in their own lives as
a result of their coming to America.
The immigrants were confronted with a religious climate
that was completely foreign to them. After coming to America,
     
the immigrants ran the risk of losing faith altogether or falling
into the hands of the various sects with their strange, unLutheran practices such as camp meetings and what Wyneken
called the “carryings-on” of revivals.
Wyneken was convinced that the Lutheran church he
encountered in America had adapted to American ways to the
point where the immigrant could hardly tell the difference
between it and the other American religious groups. He
charged the leaders of the General Synod and the seminary
with capitulating to the American religious climate. He
claimed that the General Synod was rapidly becoming just
another American “Protestant” church; it possessed no Lutheran distinctiveness. Wyneken believed that the General Synod
was, in fact, hostile to genuine Lutheranism.
While in Germany, Wyneken became acquainted with
Wilhelm Löhe. Löhe heeded Wyneken’s plea and was responsible for sending many German pastors to America to minister
to the German Lutherans there. Wyneken, in the Zeitschrift für
Protestantismus und Kirche, also attacked the General Synod
saying that it was “Methodistic” and was encouraging a union
of Lutheran and Reformed churches in America.
These attacks by Wyneken did not go unnoticed by the
General Synod. At its meeting in Philadelphia in , the synod instructed its Committee of Foreign Correspondence to
prepare an address to the various Lutheran bodies in Europe,
especially in Germany, calculated to remove false impressions
regarding the General Synod’s doctrine and practice. The
synod also assigned to that committee the task of preparing “a
clear and concise view of the doctrines and practice of the
American Lutheran church.”
Wyneken believed that the General
Synod was, in fact, hostile to genuine
Lutheranism.
Wyneken represented the Synod of the West at that convention and was an active participant. A resolution rejoicing
that the American Tract Society had extended its operation to
the German population caused “considerable discussion.”
Wyneken moved that the resolution be stricken; his motion
lost. The report of the Committee on Christian Union led to
an “animated and somewhat protracted debate.” Wyneken
opposed a resolution that stated: “Resolved, That the idea of a
Christian Union on the basis of the word of God, that will so
far harmonize the church of Christ as to give success to all the
objects of temporal, social and moral happiness, contemplated
in the gospel, is an object most truly noble in itself, and deserving the best efforts of purist philanthropy.” The resolution
passed by a vote of  to .
In the context of these debates, Wyneken challenged the
General Synod to prove the Lutheran character of its doctrine

and practice by submitting such works as Samuel Schmucker’s
Popular Theology and Portraiture of Lutheranism and Benjamin
Kurtz’s On Infant Baptism and Why are You a Lutheran? to Dr.
Rudelbach, Professor Harless, and other German Lutheran
theologians for judgment regarding the orthodoxy of their
contents. He then demanded that the General Synod either
renounce the name Lutheran or reject as un-Lutheran the
“American” Lutheran views as represented in the writings of
Schmucker and Kurtz. Neither of Wyneken’s proposals were
positively received.
After the convention in Philadelphia, Wyneken severed his
connection with the General Synod. He wrote to Löhe: “I
should have been happy if, by the acceptance of the second
proposal, my character would have been branded in Germany
as that of a liar and defamer. However, since the General Synod
rejected both proposals, I again had to repeat publicly that she
is harboring and nurturing false doctrine. As an honest man
and a Christian, I wished to declare war against her, although it
may seem silly to her, since I am only one insignificant individual. I desired to tell her in advance that I would do all in my
power to oppose her influence, especially that I would warn
against her, so that the few in Germany who are on the side of
the truth do not bother with her.”
In , Wyneken joined the newly formed Missouri Synod. At Philadelphia, Wyneken was virtually a lone voice, but
his words were a portent of what was to come.
Ten years later, in , the American Lutheran controversy engaged the General Synod. The Definite Platform was
published that year. This document attacked the traditional
liturgy, denied traditional Lutheran beliefs regarding the sacraments and offered an “American Recension” of the Augsburg
Confession, which would replace the Unaltered Augsburg
Confession as the standard for the General Synod. The Definite
Platform attempted to make the “American” Lutherans’ doctrinal stance the official position of the General Synod and contained provisions to discipline those who did not comply. By
that time, however, an increased confessional consciousness
had arisen in the synod, which, in part, helped to defeat the
Definite Platform. The defeat of the Definite Platform did not
end the controversy; tensions between the “American” Lutherans and the confessional Lutherans kept the controversy alive.
The controversy continued until , when the confessional
party left the General Synod and formed the General Council
of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in the United States.
Friedrich Conrad Dietrich Wyneken was a prophet
because he clearly saw the difference between the position of
the “American” Lutherans and a Lutheranism that was loyal to
its confessional heritage. He was committed to a confessional
Lutheran church in America, which would be reflected in its
doctrine and liturgical forms. Anything other than this he
deemed un-Lutheran, nothing more than another American
Protestant church. Wyneken fully recognized that maintaining
a confessional Lutheran identity would be a struggle in America. Almost  years later, nothing has changed; the struggle
goes on.
LOGIA


NOTES
Convened in Philadelphia, May , , p. .
. This controversy is the subject of my book, Lutherans in
. Proceedings, p. .
Crisis: The Question of Identity in the American Republic (Min. Proceedings, pp. ,.
neapolis: Fortress Press, forthcoming). Material in this essay is
. Proceedings, p. .
taken from that study.
. Baepler, p. .
. A sketch of Wyneken’s life can be found in Walter A.
. The Minutes of the  convention do not mention
Baepler, A Century of Grace: A History of the Missouri Synod
Wyneken’s statements, nor do they contain the records of any
- (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, ) pp. other speeches. Adolph Spaeth, Charles Porterfield Krauth, 
.
volumes (New York: The Christian Literature Co., ) I, p.
. Friederich Conrad Dietrich Wyneken, Die Noth der
deutschen Lutheraner in Nordamerika (Pittsburgh: Druckerei
 says with regard to that convention: “The publications of
der lutherischen Kirchenzeitung, ). Translated by S. Edgar
the American Tract Society, as well as those of the American
Schmidt and published in English by Concordia Theological
Sunday School Union, and the extension of the former’s operSeminary Press, Fort Wayne, Ind., .
ations to the German population, are cordially indorsed [sic],
. Wyneken, p. .
in spite of the opposition of the staunch Lutheran, Wynecke
. Wyneken, p. .
[sic].” For another account, see F. Bente, American Lutheran. Wyneken, p. .
ism,  volumes (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, ) I,
. Wyneken, p. .
p. .
. Wyneken, p. .
. George Fritschel, Quellen und Dokument zur Geschichte
. Wyneken, p. .
und Lehrstellung der ev.-luth. Synod von Iowa u. a. Staaten.
. Wyneken, p. .
Chicago, p. . Cited in Baepler, A Century of Grace, pp. -.
. Wyneken, p. .
. Definite Platform, Doctrinal and Disciplinarian, for
. Wyneken, p. .
Evangelical Lutheran District Synods; Constructed in Accordance
. Wyneken, p. .
with the Principles of the General Synod (Philadelphia: Miller
. Proceedings of the Thirteenth Convention of the General
and Burlock, ).
Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in the United States,
“How Christ Is Denied”
A Sermon
C.F.W. WALTHER
Translated by John Nordling
j
“M
AY GRACE, MERCY, AND PEACE, WITH TRUTH AND LOVE,
man [Jesus] to anyone in Jerusalem they answered, “We can’t
help but speak what we have seen and heard!” (Acts :).
We find such zealous confession among the Christians
throughout the first three centuries after Christ. No funeral
pyre, no sword yet dripping with the blood of the confessors,
no gaping lion jaws, no pain or torture, could prevent the firmly believing Christians from confessing—even before the most
ferocious dictator—“We are Christians!” Even weak women
and tender maidens, mere children, in fact, set themselves with
their fearless and rock-like confessions of faith over against all
the threats of powerful people here on earth.
And when the Reformation occurred some  years ago,
what happened then? Why the gospel came to light again in
thousands and thousands of hearts! The confession of truly
believing Christians resounded boldly from thousands and
thousands of lips! Though the bishop of Rome angrily hurled
down his anathemas at the evangelical Christians, though the
emperor proclaimed his most terrifying imperial bans against
them, though the confession, “I am a Lutheran Christian,” met
with danger to life and limb—yet people could not be quiet
about that which burned so hotly within their hearts. At that
time also was King David’s statement true: “I believe, therefore
I speak.”
If we now compare our times to this, do we not have to cry
out: Oh! Where have you gone, you splendid, golden times of
the true confessors? Is not Christ now much rather slandered
than confessed by most of those who call themselves Christian?
Do not most so-called Christian preachers deny that Christ is
true God and the reconciler of all sinners? To be sure there
have been occurring great and magnificent awakenings of faith,
even among us Germans; but where is the frank confession of
the whole truth we find among the first Christians and also
among our fathers? Is it not demanded of a Christian nowadays that he recognize and confess that each faith is equally
valid? And is not that person frequently denounced as being
arrogant and proud who insists on confessing: “God has led
me to find the truth, against which everything else is an error?”
Indeed, people often say, “True, Christ ought not to be denied.
But why do you insist on rejecting another person’s position
who does not happen to believe just the way you do?!”
My dear friends, if people knew what it really means to
deny Christ, they would not dare to talk like this. As a matter
be with you all from God the Father, and from the
Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the Father. Amen.”
Brothers and sisters, beloved in Christ Jesus!
“I believe, therefore I speak.” This is what David says in
Psalm . By this he testifies that true faith must express itself
with the mouth. The prophet Jeremiah says something quite
similar to this in the th chapter of his prophecy. When he
had prophesied to the apostate people of Israel and received for
this nothing but the most bitter mocking and ridicule, Jeremiah had at first decided to keep quiet. “Yet,” he goes on, “his
word is in my heart like a fire, locked up in my bones. I was
weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot” (Jer :).
From these two examples we see that true faith is nothing
other than a flame aroused in the heart of a man by God himself. Wherever this faith is really burning it forces itself a way,
like a blazing fire, and bursts out into the fiery confession of
the mouth.
Experience also proves that this is the case. Sometimes in
the history of the church this faith has blazed up more than is
usually the case; at times like this we find among Christians a
special zeal for decisive and candid confession. With what zeal
do we see the holy apostles seizing every opportunity to express
what was alive in their hearts! With what joy do we hear St.
Paul, bound though he was in chains, confessing Christ, the
crucified one, before governors Felix and Festus, before King
Agrippa and his royal wife Bernice! With what fearlessness do
we see the apostles Peter and John, standing before the Sanhedrin at Jerusalem, crying out to them: “You leaders of the
people, you elders of Israel! Let it be known to you and to all
the people of Israel that at the name of Jesus Christ of
Nazareth, whom you crucified, this man is standing healthy
here before you! This stone, rejected by you builders, has
become the Cornerstone” (Acts :-). And though they were
frightfully threatened to stop proclaiming the name of this
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JOHN NORDLING is pastor of Grace English Evangelical Lutheran
Church, Chicago. This sermon for the Fourth Sunday in Advent on
John :-, entitled “Von der Verleugnung Christi,” is translated
from Walther’s Amerikanisch-Lutherische Evangelien Postille Predigten, CPH, .


of fact, Christ is more frequently denied than people realize.
Therefore, let me talk to you about what it really means to
deny Christ.
TEXT: JOHN :-
[The confession of John the Baptizer that he is not the Christ]
In the Gospel chosen for today it is reported how John the
Baptizer was at one time under great temptation to deny
Christ. Yet it is also said of him in this connection: “He confessed and did not deny.” This leads me to speak to you concerning How Christ is Denied. I would like to share with you:
) How people deny Christ; and ) Why we should not allow
ourselves, under any circumstances, to deny Christ.
PRAYER
O Lord Jesus Christ, you who for our sakes held to the good
confession before Pontius Pilate, forgive us wherever we have,
to this point in our lives, denied you—often without even
being aware of this. Help us, in these last troubled times, to
continue in true faith and in joyful confession of your pure
gospel—to the very end of our lives. Awaken us to this through
the preaching of your holy word. For your holy name’s sake,
Amen! Amen!
I.
My dear friends. If we know how Christ ought to be confessed, then we also need to know how Christ can be denied;
for the opposite of confessing Christ is denying him. Here it is
impossible for us to go the middle way and take no side whatsoever. This is exactly what Christ was talking about when he
said, “Whosoever is not with me is against me, and whosoever
does not gather with me scatters” (Mt :). In our Gospel for
today John the Baptizer is set before us as an example of a true
witness and confessor of Christ.
This man had spent his entire youth in the Judean wilderness. Clothed in a rough garment of camel’s hair, John had, in
a truly noteworthy spirit of self-denial, just managed to eke out
a wretched existence on locusts and wild honey. He had not
performed such external abstinence to attain a special saintliness or merit; rather, he had adopted this peculiar lifestyle to
catch the eye of the people to whom he was to preach by the
call of God himself.
On account of his extraordinary appearance John quickly
drew the eyes of the entire nation to himself; and when he now
finally reached his manhood, he began to preach repentance,
proclaiming the nearness of the long-awaited messianic kingdom and baptizing those who believed his preaching. There at
once arose the idea among the people that perhaps John himself was really the promised Messiah, or at least Elijah. They
thought that in the days of the Messiah, Elijah would come to
life again, the great prophet who—according to the prevailing
superstition of the time—would appear together with the Messiah himself. So greatly did a respect for John the Baptizer grow
with each passing day among the people that even the highest
authorities had to ascribe honor to John. They dispatched a
distinguished embassy of priests and Levites to him with the
question, “Who are you?”

Now if John had answered, “I am the Christ, I am the
promised Messiah,” then no doubt the already excited people
would at once have paid homage to him as their long-awaited
Savior and King; no authority would have been able to stop a
tumultuous riot from breaking out—had John set himself up
on a pedestal in the eyes of the people. It seems as if the
embassy itself expected no other answer. But what does John
say? The passage reads, “Yet he confessed and he did not deny,
indeed he confessed, ‘I am not the Christ’” (Jn :). With this
John withstood the first temptation to deny Christ publicly and
openly.
. . . he also denies Christ who denies
any truth of the gospel, however
unimportant that truth might seem to
be . . .
Still the ambassadors continued to ask him: “‘What then?
Are you Elijah?’ He said, ‘I am not.’” But they kept asking:
“‘Are you a prophet?’ And he answered, ‘No’” (Jn :).
It is certainly quite amazing how John could keep saying
“No!” to these questions. For was not John, according to
Christ’s own admission, really the Elijah who was supposed to
precede the Messiah? And was he not likewise—also according
to Christ’s own testimony—in fact a prophet, indeed, much
greater than all the prophets? He certainly was, at least in a certain sense. Yet now John denies both possibilities!
From the way that John carries himself here we see how
careful we ought to be in the confession of our faith. The Jews
were supposing that John really was the Elijah who had already
lived once before; the only reason why John was called Elijah,
however, is because he was a man “in the spirit and in the power” of Elijah. Therefore he answered his questioners in the
same sense in which they had themselves posed the question;
yet he did not answer them underhandedly, according to the
proper sense of the question which he alone recognized, or
which he could have “read in” to the question as phrased.
The same is true of his answer to the question as to
whether he was a prophet. John, of course, really was not a
prophet—not in the sense in which the ambassadors had posed
this question. That is why he answers a decisive “NO!” to their
question, without the slightest hesitation. In this way he sought
to avoid the slightest ambiguity in his confession.
Still the ambassadors continue on and say, “‘Who are you,
then? For we have to bring an answer to those who sent us.
What do you say for yourself?’ [John] said, ‘I am the voice of
one crying in the wilderness, “Make straight the way of the
Lord”—just as Isaiah the prophet said’” (Jn :-).
From this answer we see how earnestly John had had to
think out an answer so that he might not deny the truth in
even the slightest way. This is what made his questioners so
angry. For John had, of course, not only said that he was a her-
   
ald, a forerunner of the Messiah; but he had also intimated that
this person was present—right here, right now, for this very
purpose: to prepare hearts for the Messiah through the preaching of repentance! Those priests and Levites would have to
have heard this message with wrath for they certainly had no
idea that Messiah’s kingdom was an invisible kingdom which
people can enter only through repentance. They certainly did
not believe that to receive the Messiah they themselves had first
to repent.
The earlier civility of those ambassadors now turned
threatening. Now they said: “Why, then, do you baptize if you
are not the Christ—nor Elijah, nor a prophet?” (Jn :). John
joyfully seizes the opportunity, however, to make an accurate
confession regarding the despised Jesus of Nazareth—that this
was the one who was the Christ or the Messiah—and also that
he, John himself, was among the subjects of this Messiah’s
kingdom. So John answers: “I baptize with water. But among
you stands one whom you do not know. He is the one who
comes after me, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy
to untie” (Jn :-).
My dear friends, from this wonderful example of an
extremely faithful confessor of Christ we can now understand
how Christ still can be denied among us. Just think: If John had
answered his questioners with the statement, “I am the Christ,
just as the people think,” then he would have denied Christ
publicly and openly.
Therefore, those who regard and explain Jesus as a mere
human being are guilty of public denial still today—no matter
how wise or how excellent a human being he might have
been—yet who deny that he is the promised Savior of all people, true God and true Man in one person, who died on the
cross to make reconciliation for our sins; such people are at the
same time denying, of course, that anyone can stand justified
and sanctified before God himself by believing in Jesus, who is
the Messiah! The very number of such deniers of Christ in our
day, in churches and in schools, and among the common people, is legion.
But also to these public deniers of Christ belong those
who, to be sure, confess Christ with their mouths—yet who,
through lives spent in open and public sin, testify that they
really desire to have no heart fellowship [Herzensgemeinschaft]
with Christ. Such faithless confession really is no confession at
all, of course—just a banging of steel and a ringing of bells.
Yet the example of John the Baptizer shows us still more.
When he was asked, “Are you Elijah?” or “a prophet?” John
was obligated to have no part in the error which the Jews had
connected to this question. So he had to answer such misguided questions with an unmistakable “NO!” So we see that he
also denies Christ who denies any truth of the gospel, however
unimportant that truth might seem to be; also, he is a denier of
Christ who helps confirm errors, however harmless such errors
might seem to be.
Think of the implications this has for our time! Are not
quite a few of the opinion nowadays that they certainly are true
confessors of Christ—just because they are not actively denying that Christ is the Son of God and Savior of the world? Yet,
using John as an example once again, we see that this certainly

is not enough for true confession. For this it is necessary that
one confess everything as true which Christ has said.
Whoever, therefore, is willing to confess Christ as the Son
of God, yet—either out of arrogant reason or out of fear of the
world—denies that there is a real devil, or that the entire Bible
of the Old and New Testaments is really God’s word, or that a
human being is completely reborn in holy baptism, or that in
the holy Lord’s Supper the body and the blood of Christ are
truly present and received by every communicant—whoever, I
say, denies any one of such truths as these, however insignificant this should seem of the things which Christ did publicly
teach—this person, I say, denies the entire Christ himself and
his word and makes him through this act into a complete liar.
Why there is even more to the matter than this! For John,
as we have seen, avoids even the slightest ambiguity in his confession. Therefore, whoever while confessing the truth does
this double-mindedly, in an effort to dodge the ridicule of an
antagonist, for example; or who makes his confession in such a
way so that he can himself think true about it, yet antagonists
also can continue to persist in their own deluded ways of
thinking; he who does not make his confession so clear that
outright enemies also have to know precisely what he himself
actually believes—such a double-minded confessor, I say, is
nothing other in God’s eyes than a public denier of his Lord
and Savior.
We see that John did not conceal the truth, even though
he well knew that this would be particularly offensive and
aggravating to his questioners. John knew, in fact, that the
mere truth of his having come to proclaim, “Prepare the way of
the Lord,” would arouse the wrath of his questioners particularly; for this would point out to everyone that they by nature
were not capable of receiving the Messiah. It also would set
their sins squarely before their faces and proclaim to all the
world that they had no righteousness. Such proclamation
would make it clear to everyone that even these respectable
priests and Levites would all have to repent.
From this it is clear that Christ can
even be denied through merely keeping
quiet about the truth.
From this it is clear that Christ can even be denied through
merely keeping quiet about the truth. Whoever makes his confession in such a way as not to lose his friendship with the
world, yet keeps precisely those truths quiet which he knows are
hateful to the world; or whoever suppresses his confession of
the truth because he knows that peace between people and temporal unity with false believers otherwise may well be disturbed;
or whoever esteems his friendship with the world and peace
with other people of more worth than Christ and his truth—
such a one, I say, also belongs among the deniers of the Lord.

He belongs to that wretched class of Jewish leaders of whom we
read: “Many even among the leaders believed in him; yet
because of the Pharisees they did not confess their faith for fear
that they would be thrown out of the synagogue. For they loved
praise from men more than praise from God” (Jn :-).
Finally, when John was asked about the cause and authority of his baptism he did not merely say that the Lord had called
him to this task. No, John used this opportunity to testify to his
own most intimate association with Christ and with Christ’s
kingdom! From this we see that also those deny Christ who
deny his kingdom on earth—namely, who deny his true
church. How many deniers of Christ there are by this definition, especially in our time—even people who desire least of all
to deny Christ! Nowadays many people, intending actually to
be fervent Christians, stand up and confess their allegiance to a
sect to all the world; yet they could care less about standing up
and confessing the true, rightly believing church of Jesus Christ
here on earth!
Don’t many so-called and even real believers pledge themselves to such factions—even though they realize that errors
are taught therein, that the true gospel is distorted at many
points, and that truth and error in hodgepodge fashion are tolerated as having equal weight? Many, even among those who
wish to be regarded as true converts, still are nevertheless
ashamed to pledge themselves to the small band of true believers who have remained single-minded to what Christ says. It is
for this reason that Christ proclaims them alone as his true disciples. It must finally come to pass in these last times that
Christ’s body itself is torn into many different parts and that
those just ones who earnestly long to be Christ’s very own, yet
without even realizing it, in fact deny him!
II.
Now let us consider why we should, in the second place,
not allow ourselves to be moved to conscious denial of Christ
by anything in this world.
My dear friends, John the Baptizer had more cause to deny
his faith than anyone ever has. In the first place, these were the
most distinguished people in the entire nation of Israel who
were putting their questions to him; secondly, had he been
willing to deny his faith, he actually had a chance of being
enthroned himself as the Jewish king over Israel. On the other
hand, as he was unwilling to deny his Lord, there could only be
hatred, persecution, imprisonment, and ultimately a violent
death. Why, John enjoyed such popularity in the eyes of the
Jews that, had he been willing to cover up the truth a little bit,
he might actually have been able to save more lives than if he
were to force people away from himself and from the entire
affair of Christ by rigorously pressing his points.
But what did John do? Neither enticements nor threats,
neither joy nor sorrow, neither glory nor shame, neither life
nor death, hope nor fear, good nor evil could compel him to
deny his Lord and Master—not through the slightest doublemindedness nor through keeping quiet about anything. Why?
Because he remained faithful to God’s command that he be
Christ’s herald—namely, that he be the voice crying in the
wilderness, “Prepare the way of the Lord.” It was love for his

Savior and for lost brothers and sisters which compelled John
to be so faithful—as well, ultimately, as God’s earnest threat
that no one should add to, or detract from, God’s word. For
whoever throws the Lord’s word away must himself be rejected
by the Lord.
Look at those reasons why we too should not allow ourselves to be moved to conscious denial of Christ by anything. If
we really desire to be Christians we have, first of all, the calling
of simply being the heralds of Christ and of glorifying his name
in our words and deeds—in fact, in our entire lives. The second commandment requires of every person that he not take
the name of the Lord in vain—and this is in fact what happens
each and every time Christ is denied. We ask for God’s assistance in proclaiming his name before all the world as often as
we pray the First Petition of the Lord’s Prayer—that of hallowing God’s name. And when we were baptized so long ago, we
were at that time enlisted into the army of Christ’s soldiers, so
that we might fight for his glory under his banner.
Is it not a most detestable fraud to
suppose that by denying the truth we
can show love to our neighbor—when
it is precisely the truth alone which
really sets him free and thus makes
him holy?
As often as we deny Christ, therefore, just so often do we
transgress God’s holy commandments, scoff at our own Lord’s
Prayer prayed each day, break our baptismal vow, and abandon the hosts of true believers standing under the cross of
Christ. We become instead faithless deserters who have sold
out to the camp of God’s enemies, the world and even the devil. If our reason should suggest that we deny even one such
truth of our Savior—keeping up a fine pretense all the while—
we must constantly consider God’s commandments, and our
own [baptismal] vow, as being much more important—to say
nothing of God’s grace to us and our eternal blessedness.
Yet even if we had not already promised faithfulness to
Christ, or even if God had not already commanded such faithfulness from us, yet the love and thankfulness which we owe
Christ would move us not to deny him. Is it not disgraceful
when human friends are ashamed of each other and deny each
other behind their backs? How much more disgraceful is it,
then, when we deny our best Friend in heaven and on earth,
who gave up his life for us—indeed, who gave up heaven and
its majesty for us—who went to such trouble to rescue us from
death and hell through a life chock-full of disgrace and suffering and ultimately through the shedding of his blood to the last
drop upon the cross? That One who, for our salvation, “held to
the good confession before Pontius Pilate”( Tim :)—even
though he knew that he would be whipped for this, despised,
spat upon, crowned with thorns, and ultimately be hammered
   

to the cross. What small thanks for this love is ours, even when
our confession might be connected to a little bit of disgrace!
Further, are we not indebted to our brothers and fellowredeemed in Christ never to deny Christ or his truth? Does not
Jesus say, “The truth will make you free”? (Jn :). Are we not,
therefore, constantly beholden to our neighbor—to confess the
full truth to him? Is it not a most detestable fraud to suppose
that by denying the truth we can show love to our neighbor—
when it is precisely the truth alone which really sets him free
and thus makes him holy? Finally, Christ not only has given a
wonderful promise in his “Whoever confesses me before men,
him shall I confess before my Father in heaven” (Mt :), for
he also has added the most frightful threat to this Scripture:
“. . . but whoever denies me before men, him shall I also deny
before my heavenly Father” (Mt :); and, “If anyone is
ashamed of me and of my words, of this one shall the Son of
Man be ashamed when he comes in his glory and that of his
Father and his holy angels” (Mk :).
Please note, my dear hearers, that nothing could help us,
even if we through denial should be able to acquire the favor of
all people, the treasures of all the world and, indeed, the entire
world itself! Ultimately we would lose all this in death; and
after dying we then would discover that we had thrown away
our very souls and blessedness; why we would have to be lost
forever and ever! Woe, eternal woe to Peter himself had he not
in his heart—through the bitter tears of repentance—lamented
the fact that he had denied Christ! For even he would have
been lost eternally.
On the other hand, how would we really be harmed—even
if we ourselves, like John the Baptizer, would have to shed our
own blood rather than deny our Lord even with one word?
Would we not then inherit eternal life? Would we not receive
eternal glory for temporal shame, eternal joy and blessedness
for temporal pain? All right then! May our hearts in faith put
Jesus first, before everything else. Yet not only our hearts but
also our mouths—indeed, everything which we are and have.
For is not Christ entirely here already through faith? Yet if we
should confess him in such faith as this, we then will acquire
the ultimate results of faithfulness—namely, our eternal
blessedness. For Christ will pledge himself to us in heaven and
he will be completely ours though we continue still to be here
on earth—both in seeing him face to face and in the enjoyment
of his presence. For this is what the apostle testifies through the
Holy Ghost: “As one believes in his heart, so is he justified; and
as one confesses with his lips, so is he saved” (Rom :).
May Jesus Christ help us to maintain our good confession
of him, he who is the beginner and the finisher of our faith.
Amen! Amen!!
LOGIA
THE 26TH ANNUAL
REFORMATION LECTURES
October -, 
Bethany Lutheran College
S.C. Ylvisaker Fine Arts Center
Mankato, Minnesota
Lecturer: ROBERT A. KOLB
Concordia College, St. Paul, Minnesota
“Studying the Bible under Luther:
Luther’s Influence on Cyriakus Spangenberg”
Lecture I: : a.m. Thursday, October 
Learning to Drink from the Fountains of Israel:
Cyriakus Spangenberg Learns Hermeneutics
from Luther
Lecture II: : p.m. Thursday, October 
Covered with Christ’s Righteousness:
Cyriakus Spangenberg Learns the Gospel from Luther
Send Registration to:
Reformation Lectures
Bethany Lutheran College
 Marsh St.
Mankato, Minnesota 
Advance registration, .
Registration at the door, .
Lecture III: : a.m. Friday, October 
Village Pastors and Peasant Congregations?
Cyriakus Spangenberg Learns about Parish Life and Pastoral Care from Luther
COLLOQUIUM FRATRUM
“Through the mutual conversation and consolation of the brethren...”
Smalcald Articles III/IV
j
PAUL ALLIET: ORIGINS OF THE WISCONSIN DOCTRINE
OF THE MINISTRY
In his excellent article, “The Integrity of the Christological
Character of the Office of the Ministry” (Logia, Epiphany ),
David Scaer made two points to which I would like to respond.
In Dr. Scaer’s article, the current Wisconsin Synod doctrine of the church and ministry is traced to professors August
Pieper and John Schaller of the Wisconsin Synod’s seminary. It
would appear, however, that the distinctive Wisconsin Synod
doctrine originates with Prof. J.P. Koehler, also a member of
the seminary faculty and a contemporary of A. Pieper and
Schaller. On pages - of his History of the Wisconsin Synod, Koehler traces the matter back to discussions of the
teacher’s call in the Manitowoc Conference of the Wisconsin
Synod in the s. Koehler refers to further discussions in the
s in mixed Wisconsin-Missouri conferences in the Manitowoc-Sheboygan area, and at the time of the Wisconsin-Minnesota-Michigan federation in . By the time of those conferences Koehler seems already to have presented the later Wisconsin Synod doctrine. At the time, according to Koehler, Prof.
Hoenecke—then the director of the Wisconsin Synod seminary—“did not reject the suggestion; however, he did not agree
to it either but said that it was worthwhile thinking over”
(Koehler, History, p. ). Hoenecke died in ; his Dogmatik, published posthumously, presents the doctrine of the
church and ministry in agreement with F. Pieper rather than in
agreement with J.P. Koehler.
Upon Hoenecke’s death, Schaller succeeded him as director of the seminary, joining Koehler and Pieper on the faculty.
For some time thereafter Schaller and Pieper continued to present the doctrine of the church and ministry in the same way as
Hoenecke had followed, in agreement with Prof. Francis
Pieper. Later, however, Schaller and A. Pieper were won over
to the doctrine which Koehler had expressed, so that by , in
an article on Walther’s Die Stimme unserer Kirche in der Frage
von Kirche und Amt, Prof. A. Pieper speaks in agreement with
Koehler (History, p. ). On the same page Koehler explains
that the press of other duties prevented him from giving attention to the question of the doctrine of the church and ministry
in print, so that it fell to A. Pieper and Schaller to present the
matter in public. In that sense, Koehler acknowledges that “I
can now appreciate Pieper’s expression ‘meine Amtslehre’.”
Another point which Dr. Scaer raises is the matter of how
Wisconsin and Missouri lived with the division on such an
important issue. Part of the answer is to be found in the fact
that the break was not a clear one along synodical lines; both
synods continued to have individuals holding to the other synod’s doctrine. Another consideration is that the Thiensville
Theses of  were presented as a reconciliation of the differences. (By the time of the Thiensville Theses, Koehler and
Schaller were no longer involved. Schaller had died in ;
Koehler had been removed from Wisconsin’s seminary faculty
in  in connection with the Protéstant Controversy.) Finally, as the s went on, other matters increasingly claimed
center stage in Wisconsin-Missouri dealings.
Pastor Paul Alliet
Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church
Appleton, Wisconsin
DAVID SCAER RESPONDS:
Regarding the observation that members in the WELS and
the LCMS held to the other’s official position: an essay in Lutheran Quarterly shows that “liberals” in the ELCA and “conservatives” in the LCMS hold virtually to the same positions on church
and ministry. We are dealing with a truly cross-synodical issue.
Pastor Alliet has traced the historical origin of this idea of
identifying the ministry with church in the WELS. I can only
think that in America this was inevitable and perhaps now irreversible. New England town meetings are governed by the
principle that those present for any given meeting may legislate
for the entire group. Religiously this is “congregationalism.”
Religious congregationalism blended with the democratic
principles of the American and European Enlightenment, and
so our churches sometimes appear in their governance as no
different from neighborhood or community associations. If
Roman imperialism left its mark on the pope, so we suffer
under an infusion of culture with roots in Anglo-Saxon law
and th-th century philosophy. If the electorate can dispose
of presidents of the United States, certainly congregations can
view their pastors in the same way. We have lost something.
This will not be the last we will hear of these issues, but
when a view has the support of WELS, ELCA, and LCMS, dislodging it will be difficult.
Dr. David P. Scaer
Concordia Theolgical Seminary
Fort Wayne, Indiana

 
ROBERT NORDLIE: IN DEFENSE OF THE GOAL OF THE
GOSPEL
As one author (along with Philip M. Bickel) of The Goal of
the Gospel: God’s Purpose in Saving You, reviewed by Harold
Senkbeil in his review-essay “Famine in Lutheranism” (Logia,
January ), I must dispute his very serious charge that our
book is both “dangerous” and “deadly.” Such a grave accusation must be based on a just and scholarly analysis of the
book’s content. Allow me to demonstrate that Senkbeil has given the readers of Logia anything but a scholarly analysis of our
book, and that the charges which he makes against it are false.
The Goal of the Gospel was not written by members of “a
generation of Lutherans fed on the spiritual junk food of
American pop religion,” as Senkbeil’s essay may be understood
to imply. Approximately fifteen months were spent by the
authors intensively searching the Scriptures, studying together
for about ninety minutes two mornings each week. As a result,
ours is a book deeply immersed in the word of God, which
meticulously strives to be faithful to the whole counsel of God!
This relates directly to one of the first charges made by
Senkbeil, that “The word and sacrament have lost their luster.”
Note some of the things we authors have to say about the
means of grace—word and sacrament. (The emphases are
added, the numbers are references in the book.)
We can know the blessings of obedience only by
the grace of God through faith in Jesus Christ. Only as
the Holy Spirit empowers us by the Gospel, only as
He guides us by God’s Word, can we begin to obey
God’s will. That’s why God’s Word is so important to
the goal of obedience (22).
In the act of justification, God declares us righteous because of what Jesus has done for us—not
because of what we do. Sanctification is the daily obedience to God’s will that flows from our justifying
faith in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. But until we use
the Gospel power of Word and Sacrament to motivate
sanctification (obedience), the church can’t grow (82).
In connection with the sacrament of Baptism, Senkbeil
goes on to make the accusation that “the link Baptism accomplishes between the believer and the saving work of Jesus is given short shrift, while the emphasis is on the obedience of the
believer.” Please note the following quotations which repeatedly emphasize that our sanctification (obedience) is God’s work
in us:
Spiritual heart transplants prove just as difficult
to perform. Try as we may, we cannot transform our
sinful hearts into obedient ones. The only surgeon
who can is the Lord who promised, “I will remove
from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of
flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you” (Ez :-)
().
How does this transformation occur? Well, it is as
easy to explain as any other miracle. It happens purely
by the grace and power of our loving God who wishes

not only to redeem us but also to rehabilitate us. Having united us with Christ through Baptism, the Lord
shares all his experiences with us. He has died; we
died to sin. He rose again; we have new life. (p. ).
How will we ever bear such fruit? Can we produce a harvest on our own power? Not at all, for Jesus
warns, “apart from me you can do nothing.” The
power to live for God must come from God himself
(p. ).
Senkbeil also charges that in The Goal of the Gospel “the
link between justification and sanctification” has evidently
been lost. This accusation is startling, since precisely the opposite is the very thesis of our book. Consider the following:
We need to keep the Gospel and its goal united at
all times. They must be working together. Justification
and sanctification are inseparable (p. ).
Lutheran theology emphasizes the need to separate and distinguish between justification (the
Gospel) and sanctification (the goal of the Gospel).
This is a crucial skill, for it helps us avert dangers such
as works righteousness and perfectionism. However,
in the previous four chapters we learned that the Bible
not only teaches the Gospel and the goal of the Gospel
but also constantly unites the two, intertwines, and
associates them. And miraculously, the Scriptures do
this without mingling, mixing, or confusing them.
Justification and sanctification remain distinct and
unique, even though they are joined together. For theological purposes, at times we need to distinguish
between them; but in the final analysis, “What God
has joined together let man not separate.”
Since God has joined the Gospel and its goal, we
need not ask whether to join them but only how we can
join them properly and accurately. Unfortunately, we
sometimes disconnect justification and sanctification,
treating them as though they were opponents rather
than sisters. We attempt to store them in two hermetically sealed containers, as though they were volatile
materials that will explode upon contact. We fail to
see that God intends them to be volatile—his power
for salvation (Rom :) and the power from on high
that makes us witnesses to the ends of the earth (Lk
:; Acts :). Rather than separating these explosive
substances, God longs for us to unite them ().
Senkbeil maintains that “Lutherans who take the Confessions seriously will be angered by this book.” The authors of
The Goal of the Gospel do take the Confessions seriously. The
position we espouse in our book is entirely scriptural and confessional (as CPH’s doctrinal reviewers also concluded). Consider the following quotations from the confessions on the goal
of the gospel:
Of course good works are necessary. We say that
eternal life is promised to the justified, but those who


walk according to the flesh can retain neither faith nor
righteousness. We are justified for this very purpose,
that being righteous, we might begin to do good works
and obey God’s Law (Ap IV:, Tappert, p. ).
It is also taught among us that good works should
and must be done, not that we are to rely on them to
earn grace but that we may do God’s will and glorify
him. It is always faith alone that apprehends grace and
forgiveness of sin. When through faith the Holy Spirit
is given, the heart is moved to do good works (AC
XX:-, Tappert, p. ).
Senkbeil’s implication is that the authors teach what the Confessions deny (SD III:). By no means do we teach that faith
justifies only because righteousness is begun in us by faith!
Consider the following:
Trusting God’s friendship and love, Abraham
obeyed and thus did indeed “fulfill” God’s word
accounting him righteous (Jas 2:2-24). So faith was
fulfilled in obedience, even if justification was
declared without obedience (p. 75).
Senkbeil claims that the problem with the thesis of our
book lies in the fact that obedience is considered the goal of the
gospel. That is, however, exactly what the Scriptures teach. The
clearest example of this comes from Ephesians :-. “For it is
by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not
from yourselves; it is the gift of God, not by works, so that no
one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in
Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance
for us to do.”
No one could ask for a more clear or concise statement of
the gospel itself than is found in Ephesians :-. Having clearly stated the gospel, however, Paul immediately furnishes the
answer to the question “Why?” or “For what purpose?” even
though he does not overtly ask it.
Why has God saved us by grace through faith? The Greek
preposition ejpi; is used “of purpose, goal, result.” Of course,
Senkbeil’s argument is that good works, sanctification, or obedience may be the result of the gospel, but certainly not the
goal or purpose for which God saved us. If we had to rely on
ejpi; alone for our argument, one might still be able to make
such sense.
Paul, however, uses yet another Greek preposition in this
verse which makes the matter even more plain, that is, iJvna.
The word iJvna is used “in final sense to denote purpose, aim, or
goal; in order that; that.” Thus, Paul says that we are saved by
grace through faith “for good works which God prepared
beforehand in order that we might walk in them.” If God prepared these works in advance for us to carry out in our daily
lives, then they must not be only the result of the gospel, but
also God’s goal or purpose in saving us by the gospel of his
grace.
His goal in calling you to faith was not only to
save you, but also to equip you for righteous living, to
use you and all believers to convey to all peoples his
message of mercy in Christ, and to bring glory to
himself by all that you do. This is the goal of the
Gospel and God’s goal for you personally (p. ).
Many more quotations could be cited to refute these and
other criticisms by Senkbeil. Let it suffice to say this: The Goal
of the Gospel is neither a “dangerous” nor a “deadly” book,
unless it proves deadly to the false notion of “cheap grace” and
dangerous to the kind of complacency about our new life in
Christ that is all too common among Christians. This author
hopes that the readers of our book will give it a much fairer
hearing than did Harold Senkbeil.
Dr. Robert Nordlie
Hillside, Illinois
JOEL BRONDOS RESPONDS FOR LOGIA:
In his rejoinder, Robert Nordlie claims that his book
would be deadly and dangerous to cheap grace and complacency. He and Philip Bickel apparently wish to get unproductive
church members to be stirred up by pointing them not merely
to the gospel, but to the goal of the gospel. Nordlie’s rejoinder
shows that he is surprised and perplexed that Harold Senkbeil
should be so harsh when the authors’ motives are so good.
Nordlie rejects Senkbeil’s argument that sanctification is
merely the result of the gospel but is rather the telos (my word)
of the gospel. We are then led to ask: if the goal of the gospel is
sanctification, is it an attainable goal? Won’t it always be an
unmet goal because sanctification is never complete in this life?
If sanctification is the primary goal of the gospel, then justification is only secondary—only a step up to the former. For Bickel and Nordlie, Christ crucified is important, but it is only a
means to an end.
By intimating that “God gives a power, but we must use it”
Nordlie has in effect divorced justification from sanctification.
This is indicated as he points us to the very thesis of his work:
“Since God has joined the Gospel and its goal, we need not ask
whether to join them, but only how we can join them properly
and accurately. . . . God longs for us to unite them.” If gospel
and goal are already joined, then what is the point of asking
how they may be joined? If God has joined the gospel and its
goal, why does he “long for us to unite them”? Thereby Nordlie
betrays the separation even if he with other words parrots some
“Lutheran” idea that justification and sanctification ought not
be separated. Such felicitous inconsistencies do little to reassure that the link between justification and sanctification has
not indeed been lost or at least obscured in this work.
Justification and sanctification are likewise separated in
this way: when something seems to be lacking in sanctification,
one ought to conclude that something is wrong with justification, thereby the link. Nordlie, however, would lead us to concentrate on sanctification to get sanctification back on track,
thereby the break. Practically speaking, if a Christian becomes
slothful and lazy, should we urge him by the exhortations of
the word to try harder or should we urge him to confess his
sins so that life and Spirit may be breathed into his ears and
heart through the words of holy absolution?
 

Nordlie also shows that a little grammar and syntax can be
a dangerous thing when he refers to iJvna as a preposition rather
than the conjunction that it is. Perhaps it was just an oversight,
but telltale items like this lend credence to a charge of pseudoexegesis and contrived semantics which impose things upon
the text which aren’t really there for the sake of proving his
thesis.
Luther tells the story about a preacher who got sick just
before he was to preach. At that moment a person came to him
and offered to preach for him, and hastily paged through a
book and sketched a sermon. Still, he preached so excellently
and earnestly that the entire congregation wept. At the close of
the service he said, “Do you want to know who I am? I am the
devil. I have preached so earnestly to you in order that I might
be able to accuse you all the more justly and severely on the day
of your judgment to your greater condemnation if you have
not lived according to it” (AE :).
If sanctification is the goal of the gospel, then Satan will
have something to accuse people of on the day of judgment.
He will keenly point out the failure to meet the goal of the
gospel. We would much rather dwell on that which is completed in Christ and cling to it, knowing the joy which cannot help
but serve one’s neighbor in love as it looks to God in faith.
Because Nordlie fails to do that, because he insists that “faith is
fulfilled in obedience” (p. ), Senkbeil’s apprehensions are not
his alone.
Joel A. Brondos
Vincennes, Indiana
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REVIEWS
“It is not many books that make men learned . . . but it is a good book frequently read.”
Martin Luther
j
Review Essay
one of the few books he hoped would be preserved for posterity, Luther calls upon his fellow believers to pray every morning
and evening: “Let thy holy angel be with me, that the wicked
foe may have no power over me.” Oberman brings home to us
what this really meant to Luther, quoting from his  preface
to his Latin works: “Reader, be commended to God and pray
for the increase of preaching against Satan. For he is powerful
and wicked, today more dangerous because he knows that he
has only a short time left to rage” (; AE ,). Oberman’s
provocative elucidation of Luther’s judgment will cause every
Lutheran to examine his own inner theological beliefs and convictions (here especially with respect to the doctrine of angels):
Pray for the Increase of Preaching against Satan
Luther, Man between God and the Devil. By Heiko A. Oberman, translated by Eileen Walliser-Schwarzbard, Yale University Press, , .. Paperback edition: Image Books-Doubleday, , .
It is now three years since the Yale Press published Prof.
Oberman’s challenging monograph on Martin Luther. On
learning that it had finally appeared as a paperback, I pulled it
off the shelf for a second look. The New Yorker review (February , ) was right on target: “A remarkable study combining realism and literary adroitness that brings us close to
Luther. . . . Above all, this portrait conveys Luther’s power: the
intensity of his faith, the coherence of his thought, the force of
his personality.”
As I worked through the book a second time, it occurred
to me that I had not seen reviews in the conservative journals
which one would have expected in view of the conservative
stance taken by this distinguished international Luther scholar.
A quick check found no reviews in the following quarterlies:
Lutheran Quarterly, Concordia Theological Quarterly, Wisconsin
Lutheran Quarterly, and the Concordia Journal. The Lutheran
Synod Quarterly (September ) carries a perceptive and
knowledgeable review.
Why this absence? One would think that Dr. Oberman’s
stature as one of the foremost international Luther scholars,
and the fact that in  he was the recipient of the “Historischer Sachbuchpreis” for the German edition of this book, would
have led some historian or systematician connected with these
periodicals to evaluate the volume. In mentioning this phenomenon to a practical-minded layman in the book business,
he suggested that the answer may lie in the possibility that
these publications did not receive free copies for review. Heaven forfend! But is there some mysterious reason for this lapsus?
“Today” means that Luther not only discovered
the Gospel but also roused the Devil, who is now raging terribly and gaining the unprecedented power of
absolutely new satanic proportions. . . . The closer the
Righteous One comes to us on earth through our
belief in Christ, the closer the Devil draws, feeling
challenged to take historically effective countermeasures. . . . Transforming Luther into a forerunner of
enlightenment means dismissing this warning of the
Devil’s growing superiority as a remnant of the Dark
Ages. . . . “The Spiritus Sanctus gave me this realization in the cloaca.” If this is the site of the Reformation discovery, man’s powerlessness is joined by
ignominy. . . . The cloaca is not just a privy, it is the
most degrading place for man and the Devil’s favorite
habitat. . . . But no spot is unholy for the Holy Ghost;
this is the very place to express contempt for the
adversary through trust in Christ crucified (pp. ).
Admittedly, mine was not a scholarly investigation, but on
pulling off the shelf a couple of recent Luther biographies, I
checked to see how they treated Luther and the devil. One
(publication date ) carries no reference to the devil in its
index. This is probably the most widely used text in Lutheran
colleges. Another biography () has in its index a large
number of references to Luther and the devil. After quoting a
bit of Luther’s satire on the Cardinal of Mainz containing a reference to “the beard of Beelzebub” (p. ), the author
reminds us that “modern Lutherans anxiously stress that the
I.
Oberman immediately confronts us with a theological
challenge in his title: “Man between God and the Devil.”
Luther, of course, literally believed in angels, good and evil. In



devil was no more than a literary adornment for the satirical
piece. It is a question which the reader should judge for himself
as we proceed.” For our further information, the author in a
note observes that “the editor of the WA  takes some pains to
make this point, p. . The translator of the modern English
edition of Luther’s Works (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, )
vol. , p. , faithfully relays the opinion.”
October ,  was a notable day for the Gettysburg
Lutheran Theological Seminary. On that day (St. Michael and
All Angels’) Associate Professor of Church History, The Rev.
Leigh D. Jordahl, bade public farewell to the angels (good and
evil):
What can we say today that we really mean and
believe . . .? To be sure, we have our own mythology
and five hundred years from now much of what we
believe as true will have an air of total unreality about
it. But in any event our mythology is totally different
than the mythology of the ancient world. And we had
better admit that or else give up trying to preach
entirely. What shall we do then with that “strange
world of the Bible,” that world of devils and demons
and demon possession, that world which could really
mean it when it talked about “your adversary, the
devil who walks about as a roaring lion seeking whom
he may devour”—that on one hand, and, on the other, could talk (as we still do when we sing the Te
Deum) about cherubim and seraphim? . . . For better
or for worse, modern men (and that certainly
includes us) simply don’t believe in these things any
more.
apologetically misconstrued if his conception of the devil is
dismissed as a medieval phenomenon and only his faith in
Christ is retained as relevant or as the only decisive factor” (p.
). The doctrine of the angels is not fundamental to the
Christian faith; it does not hold a central position in the order
of salvation. Saving faith is faith in the forgiveness of sins for
the sake of Christ’s vicarious satisfaction, faith in the grace of
God who justifies the ungodly without the deeds of the law, by
faith. Still Luther unequivocally confessed his faith that the
devil and his hosts were personal, spiritual beings, utterly
depraved, the driving force behind the wickedness of this
world. Luther draws his doctrine from the Holy Scriptures,
confessing no more and no less than what Scripture reveals.
Since Scripture, for example, does not set forth the elaborate
hierarchy of the Middle Ages (nine choirs of angels, etc.),
Luther regards such matters as speculation because there are
no plain and sure testimonies of Scripture for them (AE , p.
f.).
St. Paul warns us that “We wrestle not against flesh and
blood, but against principalities and powers, against the rulers
of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in
high places” (Eph :). He has detailed for us the entire dread
power of our antagonist. But even though they are not “flesh
and blood,” we are not helpless. Oberman succinctly summarizes for us the doctrine of the gospel as it is offered in word
and sacrament: “As powerful as the devil is, he cannot become
flesh and blood; he can only sire specters and wallow in his
own filth. The manger and the altar confront the devil with the
unattainable. Both the demonic, intangible adversary of God
and the Son of God are present in the world, but only Christ
the Son is corporeally present” (p. ).
More recently, a professor of religion and philosophy at a
prominent midwest college, which for nearly  years has
marched under the banner name of the Reformer himself,
opined that modern culture urgently needs “a myth that links
moral teachings of religion with the scientific facts of life.”
Judeo-Christian myths won’t do any longer, for “they include
archaic views of the universe, a presumption that humans are
the center of existence, and the stories of Jesus’ resurrection
and of Moses bringing God’s Ten Commandments down from
the mountain.” The professor, “a church-going but skeptical
Lutheran,” “suggests that we start all over and create a new
myth—a ‘noble lie’ that squares with what is known scientifically, something that is convincing though it may not be factual” (Washington Post, June , ).
Oberman has correctly sensed what is going on among
theologians and pastors who carry the name of Luther but have
distanced themselves from Luther’s theology: “In all modern
classrooms and textbook treatments of Luther, the Devil is
reduced to an abstraction: be he a figment of mind or time.
Thus the Evil One, as a medieval remnant, can be exorcised
from the core of Luther’s experience, life, and thought” (p.
 f.).
One need not read far into Oberman before realizing that
the doctrine of the devil was for Luther a non-negotiable doctrine: “Luther’s world of thought is wholly distorted and
II.
In this biography Oberman sets up some guideposts to
help us understand Luther. Early on we find this road sign: “To
understand Luther, we must read the history of his life from an
unconventional perspective. It is history ‘sub specie aeternitatis,’ in the light of eternity; not in the mild glow of constant
progress toward heaven, but in the shadow of the chaos of the
last days and the imminence of eternity” (p. ). As this short
summary will show, the author gives the central themes of
divine revelation as understood by Luther. Fear of the law and
God’s holy wrath: “If I could believe that God was not angry at
me, I would stand on my head for joy” (p. ). The substitutionary atonement of Christ for the sins of the world: “Luther
attests to the birth of Christ in the filth of the world. The Son
of God was truly born into the flesh, into the blood and sweat
of man. He understood men because he experienced—to the
bitter end—what it means to be human” (p. ). The gospel
and justification: “The ‘alien word’ is the gospel which is not
‘my own’ but which I must hear spoken ‘to me.’ The Christian
can be justified in the sight of God only through trust in the
extraneous righteousness of Christ and not through his own
righteousness. Likewise a Christian can only be promised absolution, the word of forgiveness ‘from the outside.’ He cannot
trust his own conscience, and the confusion will only increase
in view of the fast-approaching end” (p. ). Baptism and the

Lord’s Supper: “Baptism performs the ‘joyful exchange’
through which a sinner receives the righteousness of Christ
and Christ takes over his sins; and all of this is not simply
‘cheap,’ it is free” (p. ); “Before I would have mere wine
with the fanatic, I would rather receive sheer blood with the
Pope” (p. ; see AE , p. ); “not the emphasis on faith but
the ‘dependence on the Word’ separates Luther from Zwingli”
(p. ).
Oberman quotes Luther’s observation which has been so
objectionable to both Catholics and Protestants: “Life is as evil
among us as among the papists.” He then adds these explanatory thoughts: “Luther was by no means indifferent to the general decline of morals, but moral rearmament is not the primary goal of his reformation. . . . The heart of the Reformation is
the recovery of sound doctrine—only true faith will lead to the
renewal of life. Here Luther reveals his own vision of ‘reformation’—as unusual in his own day as it is troublesome for modern times” (p. ). Confessional Lutherans today will have to be
sure that they are not permanently infected with “Lutheran
Pietism”—that is, if they are going to be authentic Confessional Lutherans, they must not let sanctification become the mark
of the church.
III.
Oberman limns out for us another guidepost for getting a
more exact portrait of Luther: “We can encounter Luther only
where he was convinced he stood and not where he approximates the temper of our time. And that, as he plainly says in
the concluding remarks of his treatise against Erasmus, is in
recognition of man’s powerlessness before God” (p. ). In
this section which he has titled “Luther and Fundamentalism”
(pp. -), the author develops two points based on his
analysis of The Bondage of the Will (). Here, I believe, one
must take firm exception to Oberman’s conclusions.
His first conclusion: “It is through this needle’s eye that all
the threads of the Reformation discovery run: ‘justification by
faith alone (sola fide), the preaching of God’s Word alone (sola
scriptura), and trust in God’s grace alone (sola gratia).’” I agree
wholeheartedly with the summary as far as it goes. But Luther
has a fourth point in his Bondage which is not mentioned: the
gratia universalis. The principle of sola fide is not rightly understood until it is seen as anchored not only in the sola gratia but
also the gratia universalis, the gracious disposition of God in
Christ which extends over all men without exception.
Throughout his entire treatise on the enslaved will Luther
deals with two concepts: God’s revealed will and his hidden will.
Oberman rightly quotes Luther: “God and the Scriptures are
two different things, as different as Creator and creature” (p.
; AE , p. ). There is much of God’s essence and work of
which we know nothing and which he has willed to withhold
from us; “It is our business, however, to pay attention to the
word and leave that inscrutable will alone, for we must be
guided by the word and not by that inscrutable will” (AE , p.
). Luther elaborates: “It is therefore right to say, ‘If God
does not desire our death, the fact that we perish must be
imputed to our own will.’ It is right, I mean, if you speak of
God as preached; for he wills all men to be saved [ Tim :],

seeing he comes with the word of salvation to all, and the fault
is in the will that does not admit him, as he says in Matt. ”
(AE , p. ). Only the gospel’s assurance of gratia universalis
can comfort the sinner: “It is an evangelical word and the
sweetest comfort in every way for miserable sinners, where
Ezekiel [:,] says, ‘I desire not the death of a sinner but
rather that he may turn and live’”(AE , p. ).
Erasmus apparently had used these very texts here
adduced by Luther against Luther’s declaration of the monergism of grace, for Luther answers him:
Here nothing could have been more inappropriately quoted in support of free choice than this passage of Ezekiel, which actually stands in the strongest
opposition to free choice. For here we are shown what
free choice is like, and what it can do about sin when
sin is recognized, or about its own conversion to God;
that is to say, nothing but to fall into a worse state and
add despair and impenitence to its sins, if God did not
quickly come to its aid and call it back and raise it up
by a word of promise. . . . This Word, therefore, “I
desire not the death of a sinner,” has as you can see no
other object than the preaching and offering of divine
mercy throughout the world. . . . (AE , p. ).
The sinner for his assurance must have sola gratia, for he
truly is “powerless.” But at the same time for his assurance he
must have gratia universalis because that is a word of mercy
offered to the whole world. So sola gratia and gratia universalis
must remain intimately united. And no part of it lies within the
dreadful hidden will of God, for “he [Ezekiel] is here speaking
of the preached and offered mercy of God” (AE , p. ).
Here we must deal with the God Incarnate, for it is he “who is
speaking here: ‘I would . . . you would not.’ God Incarnate, I
say, who has been sent into the world for the very purpose of
willing, speaking, doing, suffering, and offering to all men
everything necessary for salvation” (AE , p. ).
But where does one find the God Incarnate? The Incarnate
himself says: “Search the Scriptures; for in them ye think ye
have eternal life, and they are they which testify of me” (Jn
:). Now Luther holds that the teaching of Scripture is clear
and decisive. There is, he says, “an external judgment, whereby
with the greatest certainty we judge the spirits and dogmas of
all men, not only for ourselves, but also for others and for their
salvation. . . . This is what we earlier called ‘the external clarity’
of Holy Scripture. Thus we say that all spirits are to be tested in
the presence of the Church at the bar of Scripture” (AE , p.
 f.).
So, there is a fourth thread (besides sola fide, sola Scriptura,
and sola gratia) that runs through the needle’s eye of Luther’s
Reformation discovery: gratia universalis, that God wills all
men to be saved.
This takes us to the second point Oberman raises in examining Luther’s Bondage: “Who has ever succeeded in overcoming the basic conflict between God’s omnipotence and man’s
freedom without opening an even greater abyss?” (p. ). To
put the question in another way: “Why are not all men con-

verted and saved, seeing that God’s grace is universal and all
men are equally and utterly corrupt?” Luther’s answer is that
we cannot: “God must therefore be left to himself in his own
majesty, for in this regard we have nothing to do with him, nor
has he willed that we should have anything to do with him. . . .
It is our business, however, to pay attention to the word and
leave the inscrutable will alone, for we must be guided by the
word and not by that inscrutable will” (AE , p. ). For
Luther it is a fatal lack in the Diatribe that it does not distinguish between God himself and God revealed: “The distinction
I make—in order that I too, may display a little rhetoric—is
this: God and the Scripture are two things, no less than the
Creator and the creature are two things” (Oberman ; AE ,
p. ). There can be no doubt that for Luther this is a decisive
theological point that he separates the hidden and the revealed
will: “To the extent, therefore, that God hides himself and wills
to be unknown, it is no business of ours” (AE , p. ).
Oberman calls this fundamental distinction of Luther’s a
“historically innovative principle [which] forms the surprising
basis of his response to Erasmus, in which we can also find a
new and crucial point of departure for present-day theology. It
is this principle that distinguishes Luther from the biblicism of
both his own and later eras” (p. ). In this context Oberman
connects “biblicism” with the term “fundamentalism.” Both
are to the general public pejorative terms. They both connote
in general a mentality obscurantist and anticultural. More
specifically, they denote belief in verbal inspiration and the
infallibility of the Scripture. Fundamentalism also carries other
denotations which do not properly divide the two doctrines of
law and gospel, but regard Scripture as a sort of legal codebook to mold the lives of men, and also a belief in an eschatology of dispensationalism and premillenialism. Oberman
implies that Luther in his early years was a “fundamentalist,”
as, for example, when he appeared before the emperor at
Worms in : “This is what the Scriptures teach . . . and so do
I. Here I can yield to no one” (p. ). “In Luther’s earliest
known works the normative authority of the Bible is never
called into question” (p. ). The reader is left to infer that in
Luther’s later years he did not stand on the same basis as he
had at first.
Over the years reams have been written on Luther’s doctrine of the Scriptures, and this is not the place to consider all
the points raised. But one should not be too ready to assume
that Luther waffled on his position on Scripture in later years. I
just re-read his “Treatise on the Last Words of David” ()
and couldn’t help noting that the text is liberally sprinkled with
statements like this: “Thus we attribute to the Holy Spirit all of
Holy Scripture and the external word and the sacraments
which touch and move our external ears and other senses” (AE
, p. ; see also pp. , , ). Of course, the chief doctrine revealed in the Scripture is that of Christ and his work (Jn
:), a truth Luther often repeats. But for Luther Scripture is
also its own authority for doctrine. Oberman is not correct in
his statement that “the Bible contains only one truth but it is
the decisive one: ‘that Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, died for
the sake of our sins, and was resurrected for the sake of our
righteousness’” (p. ). His reference is to the Smalcald Arti-

cles II,I, (Tappert, p. ). But here Luther did not say that the
“Bible contains only one truth.” What he did say was: “the first
and chief article is” (“Hie ist der erste und Häuptartikel”), a
clause which certainly allows for secondary articles. As a matter
of fact, we have noted that Luther got his doctrine of the angels
from the Scriptures. More specifically, Luther can directly
identify Scripture’s word with God’s, and hence a source for all
doctrines. If the Enthusiasts had believed that the Verba were
God’s words, “they would not call them ‘poor, miserable
words,’ but would prize a single tittel and letter more highly
than the whole world, and would fear and tremble before them
as before God himself. For he who despises a single word of
God certainly prizes none at all” (AE , p. ).
When Luther asserted against Erasmus that “God and the
Scripture are two different things, as different as Creator and
creature” (p. ; AE pp. , ), Oberman finds this to be a
“historically innovative principle . . . in which we can also find
a new and crucial point of departure for present-day theology.
It is this principle that distinguishes Luther from the biblicism
of both his own and later eras” (p. ). This “innovative principle” is apparently different from the sola scriptura principle
which Luther had expressed in his early days. Oberman is no
doubt correct in his observation that “for us in the twentieth
century the application of the Reformation principle of sola
scriptura, the Scriptures alone, has not brought the certainty he
anticipated” (p. ).
But I fail to see how the “innovative principle” (whatever
it may be) can be of any help to modern man who rejects the
sola scriptura principle. Luther would not accept any other
principle. When Erasmus informs him that he would accept
any religious dogma on the authority of the Scriptures and the
Church’s decisions, Luther asks him: “What are you saying
Erasmus? Is it not enough to have submitted your personal
feelings to the Scriptures?”(AE , p. ).
Luther, in making a distinction between God and his
Scripture, is obviously referring to God’s hidden will and his
revealed will: “As we have already said . . . we have to argue in
one way about God or the will of God as preached, revealed,
offered, and worshiped, and in another way about God as he is
not revealed, not offered, not worshiped” (AE , p. ). God
has revealed his will to mankind in Scripture. We have “something to do with him insofar as he is clothed and set forth in his
word” (AE , p. ). But if we reject that source, then the only
other source is God in his bare majesty: “But in this regard we
have nothing to do with him, nor has he willed that we should
have anything to do with him” (AE , p. ). The revealed
will of God does not show us how to reconcile God’s judgment
and mercy, and we shall never discover it in the hidden will.
God as he is preached is concerned with the truth that “sin and
death should be taken away and we should be saved. For he
sent his word and healed them [Ps :]. But God hidden in
his majesty neither deplores nor takes away death, but works
life, death, and all in all. For there he has not bound himself by
his word, but has kept himself free over all things” (AE , p.
).
Luther was well aware that twentieth-century men as well
as those of the first century and the sixteenth will reject the

revealed will of God. He calls to our attention the case of the
Sadducees who said there was no resurrection. When Christ
put them to silence by quoting specific texts from the Scriptures, the multitude was astonished at his teaching. With
respect to the Sadducees, however, Luther poses a rhetorical
question: “But did they give up their own opinions?” (AE , p.
). The source of this rejection is “hereditary sin” which is so
deep a corruption of nature that reason cannot understand it.
It must be believed because of “the revelation in the Scriptures” (SA III,I,). Giving up the sola scriptura principle as the
Sadducees and the twentieth-century scholars have done leaves
man under the curse of Adam’s primal sin “through whose disobedience all men were made sinners and became subject to
death and the devil” (SA III,I,). The only thing that will save
them is solus Christus found only in the sola scriptura. In an
Easter Monday sermon on Luke :- Luther preaches also
to present-day theologians: “Christ, before they knew Him
proved fully and clearly from the Scriptures that it behooved
Christ to die and to rise again from the dead. . . . We must be
led to rely on the word that is sure and cannot deceive, as here
these two men and all others afterwards were directed to the
Scriptures.”
IV.
So far we have seen the image of Luther as he reveals himself in his most profound theological treatises. It is all a part of
him, but there is also another aspect of him that emerges from
his literary remains and the observations of his contemporaries. Although he lived in the expectation of the imminent
coming of the last day, he did not become a recluse but lived a
normal day-to-day existence with his contemporaries. He
would plant his apple tree in the morning even if he knew that
the world was coming to its end that very evening. Oberman
does not fail to illustrate how Luther not only prayed for the
daily needs of his life, but also received them with thanksgiving. For example, his defense of marriage and his actual marriage to Catherine von Bora have in years past been strongly
condemned by Roman Catholic historians, but today they are
probably more open to all Luther has written on the subject:
“Matrimony befits everyone. It is a divinely noble business. . . .
But it is the god of this world, the Devil, who so slandered the
marital state and has made it shameful” (p.  f.).
In his To the Christian Nobility Luther urges several practical reforms, e.g.: “Is it not wretched that we Christians continue to allow public whorehouses?” (p. ; AE , p. ). Here
Oberman warns us against thinking that these practical suggestions for reform constitute the Reformation: “Reformation is
God’s ultimate intervention.” The civil government cannot
bring about a life reformation in these last days: “Only one
weapon is left: the preaching of a powerless Christ, and him
crucified” (p. ).
It is important to recognize that Luther cannot be classified either as medieval or modern. Oberman acknowledges
that though Luther’s attitude toward the Jews remained
medieval, “he never took over the medieval hatred for the Jews
as ‘murderers of Christ’ which subjected them ‘in a Christian
spirit’ to the rage of the mob.” The  Wittenberg Hymnal

already contained a verse “which though not expressly attributed to Luther, was so similar to what he wrote and preached
over the years that it must be regarded as written by Luther’s
hand:
Our great sin and sore misdeed
Jesus, the true Son of God, to the cross has nailed
Thus you, poor Judas, as well as all the Jews
we may not upbraid inimically,
for the guilt is ours” (p.  f.).
It is obvious that the monograph is grounded on solid,
extended research which takes into consideration the work of
contemporary scholars. Oberman wears his scholarly apparel
with easy grace. He is a veteran Ivy Leaguer as well as a seasoned player in the International League of Savants. So it is fascinating for us bush-leaguers to peer over his shoulder as he
analyzes where Luther might fit in today: “What kind of job
would he be suited for?” If there were an opening at Heidelberg, Marburg, or Harvard, “he would not likely be offered a
professorship there. It is the Erasmian type of ivory-tower academic that has gained international acceptance” (p. ). If
there were somewhere an open chair at Harvard, “it would be
futile to look for his name among the applicants—one must
follow a call.” And here Oberman footnotes for us Luther’s letter to Spalatin from the Wartburg urging that Melanchthon be
called to preach in Wittenberg: “For he ought not seek such a
duty, but he must be urged and called by the congregation . . .
to do not only what is useful only for himself but rather what is
profitable for many” (AE , p. ).
Should he be “shortlisted” by a department of religion at
Harvard, they would probably shift him from Professor of Biblical Theology to the present-day field of practical theology.”
For that Oberman suggests that he would be “too conservative
and far too pious, as well as being too Catholic in approach.”
But he “would be an indisputably successful teacher.” As a faculty colleague he would be “irksome and an unpredictable ally
in faculty politics.” Significantly, “the modern trend toward
ecumenism would cause him particular problems because he
would not be prepared to suppress those questions that divide
Christians.” For further enlightenment to help you ascertain
whether you would invite Luther into your circle of advisers,
just buy a program and read all about it.
When one has come full circle in attempting to grasp the
essence of Luther, one sees that he was a realist about the certainty and the universality of death and that to the end of his
life he was constantly caught between the threats of the law and
the consolation of the gospel. In , writing against Latomus,
he gives expression to this state: “I say that sin and trust [in
God] are simultaneously present in us and all our works as
long as we are in this world” (AE , p. ). Therefore we are
exceedingly grateful to Oberman that at the conclusion of his
study he refers us to Luther’s hymn “Nun freut euch lieben
Christen gemein” (“Dear Christians, One and All Rejoice”) as
“an eloquent but unmistakably autobiographical statement of
this tension” (p. ). Stanzas two and three vividly portray his
fear of the law of God and the power of the devil:


Fast bound in Satan’s chains I lay,
Death brooded darkly o’er me,
Sin was my torment night and day,
In sin my mother bore me.
Themes and Variations for a Christian Doxology: Some
Thoughts on the Theology of Worship. By Hughes Oliphant
Old. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.
My good works so imperfect were,
They had no power to aid me;
My will God’s judgments could not bear;
To hell I fast was sinking.
Oberman marvels how Luther can make “involved theological
thoughts . . . come alive and broadly understandable.” But he
warns that the existential framework is easily misunderstood if
it is inferred that the “sickness unto death was now past and
overcome.” That is true indeed. At the same time the hymn’s
dominant theme is the joyful proclamation that the Son’s
Almighty power doth work unseen,
He came in fashion poor and mean,
And took the Devil captive.
Ergo,
Dear Christians, one and all, rejoice;
Proclaim the wonders God hath done,
How his right arm the victory won;
Right dearly it hath cost him.
NOTES
. Luther references will be to Luther’s Works, American
Edition, Concordia Publishing House and Fortress Press, , hereafter cited as AE.
. James M. Kittelson, Luther the Reformer—The Story of
the Man and His Career (Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing
House, ).
. H.G. Haile, Luther—An Experiment in Biography (Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Co., ) pp. , .
4. Winter Bulletin, , Lutheran Theological Seminary,
Gettysburg, PA.
. Martin Luther, Sermons Of Martin Luther, Vol. II,
Lenker Edition (Grand Rapids: Baker, reprint, no date given)
pp. , .
Bjarne Wollan Teigen
Mankato, Minnesota
In the spring of , Hughes Oliphant Old was invited to
lecture at the University of Dubuque (Iowa) Theological Seminary. In the preface of his book he states he went in to those
lectures with “the incentive to sit down and try to think out a
simple, clear, and basic theology of worship, something of
interest to serious theological students whose primary aim was
to go out into the pastorate and lead the people of God in
Christian worship” (ix). His book is the result of those lectures.
Old divides his book into six chapters. In the first chapter,
“Doxology as the Theology of Worship,” he begins by defining
what worship is. Here he defends his constant use of the word
“doxology” in defining worship because, he says, “The name
doxology commends itself because it presses us to go beyond
mere cultic acts and rituals and to see all these things in terms
of the serving of God’s glory” (p. ). Already here he begins to
show his Reformed understanding of worship. Old asks what
we are supposed to be doing when we assemble for worship
and rightly suggests that we go beyond “feeling good about
worship.” He says, “There is something objective about worship that makes it more real than our feelings about it.” He
suggests that many have found that “something objective” in
what worship does for the people. The argument (which he
opposes) is that worship does some sort of good for those who
attend; that worship is primarily for the purpose of providing
moral instruction that makes for better citizens and therefore a
better society.
Old counters: “To be sure, worship is a service, but it is a
service to God. In the German language the word most commonly used for worship is Gottesdienst—that is, ‘the service of
God’” (p. ). His intent, then, is to show how our worship
serves God’s glory (p. ).
It is apparent that Old does not understand Gottesdienst.
God does not need us in order to be served, in order to be glorified. Our Lutheran fathers understood Gottesdienst to be primarily the service of God to the people. “Faith is that worship
which receives God’s offered blessings. . . . It is by faith that
God wants to be worshiped, namely, that we receive from him
what he promises and offers” (Apology IV, ). And again,
“The greatest possible comfort comes from this doctrine that
the highest worship in the gospel is the desire to receive forgiveness of sins, grace, and righteousness” (Ap. IV, ).
Lutherans understand worship, not in terms of giving something to God, but in terms of receiving from God his good and
gracious gifts.
Following his discussion of what worship is, Old then
moves into the five distinctive categories of doxology he wishes
to emphasize. In the first, Epicletic Doxology, he comes closest
to a Lutheran view of worship. He says rightly that “the very
act of calling upon God’s name” (in time of need) “is itself
worship” (p. ). Examples are given from Scripture, from the
church fathers and from hymnody of this calling upon God for
help. He spends a good deal of time focusing on the Reforma-

tion period and its emphasis on calling upon God. He lauds
Luther’s Great Flood Prayer for baptism (AE , p. ) as an
exemplary act of worship.
The one question this reviewer had with this particular
chapter was in its title. Is “epiclesis” the appropriate word for
calling upon God in time of trouble? I had always understood
epiclesis to be a liturgical, more appropriately, a eucharistic
prayer which called upon God the Father to send the Holy
Spirit on the bread and wine of the Lord’s Supper to change
them into the body and blood of Christ (see The Early Liturgy
by Josef A. Jungmann, University of Notre Dame Press p. ).
Can epiclesis also mean invocation?
Chapter three, “Kerygmatic Doxology,” equates worship
with proclamation and proclamation with acclamation. Here
Old sees worship in terms of the recognition of the presence of
God and a response to that presence. Examples include the hallel psalms and the tris hagion of Isaiah  (and our own liturgy).
In his chapter “Wisdom Doxology,” Old begins very hopefully with a discussion of the value of Scripture’s wisdom. He
says, “The Wisdom theology was scholarly, meditative and
moral. Its approach to doxology, therefore, encouraged a disciplined study of the Scriptures as the revelation of the divine
Wisdom that enlightens all human life” (p. ). But, unfortunately, he regresses to show his Reformed colors. Old finds
“wisdom” manifest in Calvin’s understanding of the Lord’s
Supper: “Just as it is the Holy Spirit who makes Christ present
in the sacrament to those who believe ... the eucharistic presence of the word is manifest when it is received by faith and
lived in holiness” (p. ). That hurts the eyes of a good Lutheran.
In the final chapter, “Covenantal Doxology,” Old once
again misses the Lutheran mark. Perhaps the greatest example
of this comes when he tries very hard to enlist Luther in his
argument for the idea of covenant as worship. He points to
Luther’s The Babylonian Captivity of the Church (AE ), and
to his Treatise on the New Testament, That is the Holy Mass (AE
) and sees in them “the Reformer delving more deeply into a
covenantal theology of the sacraments” (AE , p. ). Yet in
both of those Luther uses the word “diatheke” in terms of testament and not covenant. Luther does not see it as God doing
his part and we doing our part. For Luther God simply leaves
us a gift in the testament of his body and blood.
It is too bad Old is not able to see worship more in terms
of this gift and less in terms of our work. There is much in this
book that is worth reading, but one must first understand who
is serving whom.
The Rev. Rick Suggitt
St. Paul Lutheran Church
Sac City, Iowa

How to Reach Secular People. By George G. Hunter,
Nashville: Abingdon, .  pages. No price given.
III.
The Lutheran, inasmuch as he defines the Christian as one
who believes in Christ’s propitiating work for his salvation, and
who by that faith lives eternally, will find this book deeply
troubling. For not once in this book is the Christian even
remotely defined in this way. Rather, for George Hunter, and
presumably for those whom he quotes voluminously, a Christian is one who has been given power to live a radically different
life in this world.
This is a different gospel, and must be understood as such.
How to Reach Secular People is not about drawing people to
faith unto eternal life; it is about drawing people to faith which
will change their current behavior. “Secular,” for Hunter’s purposes, describes first and foremost a set of behaviors. Its opposite—“Christian”—is similarly defined. Consequently, this is
not a book with eschatology in mind. And because of this, the
book seems to have succumbed to the very secularization it
decries. It lives in this life only.
George Hunter repeats the now-axiomatic warning that
the world isn’t like it used to be, and that the churches had better face up to this fact. But the Lutheran reader must truly
reject the notion posited here that it is enough to say that people have been reached for Christ when they come regularly to
church and stop putting pornography in their VCRs. Hunter,
and those he quotes, do not view forgiveness of sin as the goal
of Christ’s work, but as preparation for a different goal—a lawkeeping, joyfully obedient life.
Perhaps it is time to assert forcefully that “churched” or
“reached” or “de-secularized” people are those who gather
together to receive forgiveness for actions and thoughts arising
from a nature which lives in opposition to the divine will, and
time as well to reject just as forcefully the notion that
“churched” people are those who gather to be moved into an
obedient lifestyle. Ken Schurb noted previously in this journal
that this is the difference between believing the church to be a
“hospital” or a “gymnasium.” The pastor who believes the latter must read this book; he who believes the former wastes his
time with this book.
The Rev. Andrew Dimit
Lutheran Church of Christ the King
Duluth, Minnesota


Confessional Lutheran Dogmatics: Eschatology. By John
Stephenson. Fort Wayne: International Foundation for Lutheran Confessional Research, . Page count unavailable.
If you have read and enjoyed the excellent study published
by the CTCR in , The End Times: A Study of Eschatology
and Millennialism, then you will take pleasure in this recent
volume of Confessional Lutheran Dogmatics. John Stephenson’s
book confesses the apostolic faith contained in Holy Scriptures
and expounded in the Lutheran Confessions. With a genuine
confession of faith there is a polemical character. The book
separates pure doctrine from false doctrine. The errors of the
left (critical scholarship) and the errors of the right (fundamentalist dispensationalism and reconstructionist postmillennialism) are condemned.
The book is divided into three parts. The first part
includes three chapters. The first relates the general apostasy of
our time in the forms of the historical critical method and the
feminist, process and liberation “theologies.” The second chapter defines the term “eschatology” in a narrow and broad sense.
It also summarizes and critiques the representative critical
scholars and their views of eschatology: “consistent” (Weiss
and Schweitzer), “realized” (Dodd), and “inaugurated” (Jeremias and Cullmann). The third chapter presents realized and
inaugurated eschatology in Holy Scripture and the Book of
Concord. Stephenson explains: “Eschatology is realized in the
work of Christ to such a degree that the Day of Judgment has
already taken place in the Cross (Jn :). While the assumed
manhood of Jesus is to be lauded as the adorable paradigm of
realized eschatology, Christians as the subjects of justification
and sanctification are aptly to be regarded as the workmanship
of inaugurated eschatology.” Thus, Christians long for the consummation of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper in death and the
resurrection of the dead.
The remaining two sections of the book deal with microcosmic eschatology (the end of man), and macrocosmic eschatology (the end of the world). These parts include topics such
as: temporal death, the immortality of the soul, the intermediate state of souls, the signs of our Lord’s coming, the parousia,
eternal damnation and the heavenly life of the blessed.
This book is most practical for the Lutheran pastor. It correctly confesses that the end times came in principle but not
without remainder through the incarnation, life, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus Christ. Then Stephenson always
makes the connection that the end time gifts won for us by
Jesus are distributed in the Divine Service by means of the
veiled forms of words, water, bread and wine.
Consequently, every Lord’s Day is a proleptic, yet hidden
manifestation of Judgment Day. In holy baptism there is death
and resurrection (Rom ). The Large Catechism confesses that
baptism gives “victory over death and the devil, forgiveness of
sin, God’s grace, the entire Christ, and the Holy Spirit with his
gifts.” In confession and absolution the penitent receives the
pastor’s forgiveness as from God himself. Thus, in holy absolution the verdict of the Judge is heard in the present. That same
forgiveness is bestowed in the Sacrament of the Altar as the
Lord gives us his body and blood. The parousia is anticipated
in this sacrament because Jesus really comes to his church. The
Divine Service with its divine verdict of justification through
the word and sacraments is Judgment Day in miniature. This is
the “now” of eschatology. It is lived under the cross (Mt :) and appropriated by faith, not sight (Rom :-).
God’s justification of the sinner accomplished at Calvary,
bestowed through the lowly means of grace in the Divine Service, will be consummated at the parousia. Only then does the
believer move from a life under the cross to a life of glory
where he dwells with God forever in the new heavens and new
earth with a resurrected body. Seen in this light eschatology is
not some isolated and irrelevant doctrine. Instead, it is a gospel
article because it has the gospel (justification by grace through
faith) as its center. As a gospel article Stephenson points out
that “the church’s main task vis-a-vis bodily death and its terrors is pastoral and evangelical: the verbal and sacramental
communication of the forgiveness of sins for Christ’s sake
through faith, the justification of the ungodly which alone permits any sinners to fall asleep in confidence and hope.” There
is nothing more helpful for the parish pastor and nothing more
comforting to the troubled conscience of the parishioner than
this life-saving gospel.
Rev. Brent W. Kuhlman
Faith Lutheran Church
Hebron, Nebraska
Scripture within Scripture: The Interrelationship of Form and
Function in the Explicit Old Testament Citations in the Gospel
of John. By Bruce G. Schuchard. (Society of Biblical Literature:
Dissertation Series, Number ), Atlanta: Scholars Press, .
In his introduction, Dr. Schuchard states, as the dissertation title indicates, the “chief goal of this investigation will be
to characterize in detail the interrelationship of form and function in the explicit Old Testament citations in the Gospel of
John” (p. xiii). Schuchard recognizes the validity of scholarly
concern for the usage of the Old Testament in other parts of
the Old Testament, the usage of the Old Testament in the New
Testament and the usage of New Testament passages in other
parts of the New Testament but sets a more carefully defined
and manageable goal. He focuses on the Gospel of John
because of the uniqueness of the Old Testament material it utilizes and the manner in which the material is used.
The monograph identifies and examines thirteen explicit
Old Testament citations in the Gospel of John. They are :;
:; : and ; :; :-, , and ; :; :; :, 
and . Because no discrete Old Testament passage is cited in
John : and ; :; : and :, the verses are excluded
from the study. In this reviewer’s opinion, the reasons for
exclusion seem arbitrary, especially with regard to : and ,
and limit the effect of the study. A necessary result is that for a
comprehensive study of Johannine Old Testament citations
commentaries must supplement this work. The book has an
extensive bibliography but no index.

Schuchard’s method is to give first a brief introduction
considering the Johannine context of the citation, the existence
of parallel pericopes or treatment of similar subjects in the
New Testament and elsewhere, the existence of parallel references to the same Old Testament passage and the introductory
formula. The introduction is followed by a detailed preliminary investigation. The preliminary work investigates the Old
Testament passage cited, comparison of the Johannine citation
of extant textual traditions, scholarly opinions, and
Schuchard’s own preliminary hypothesis. Each investigation
concludes with a detailed investigation of the interrelationship
of form and function of the citation followed by Schuchard’s
concluding remarks concerning how and why John deviates
from the textual tradition he cites. The methodology is carefully followed throughout the study and makes for easy reading
and analysis.
In brief, Schuchard draws two important conclusions.
First, “there is in John’s citations tangible evidence for the use
of one and only one textual tradition, the OG [Old Greek]” (p.
xvii). Schuchard follows L. Greenspoon, “The Use and Abuse
of the Term ‘LXX’ and Related Terminology in Recent Scholarship,” BIOSCS  () p.-, and uses OG rather than
“LXX” to refer precisely to the first Greek translation of the
Bible. Schuchard’s second conclusion is that “John has purposefully edited the Old Testament passages he cites.”
In many ways, the dissertation builds on and is a dialogue
with methods and insights of M.J.J. Menken. Since Menken’s
insights are found in seven essays published in various journals, Schuchard’s review serves also as a helpful collection and
summary of Menken’s work. On the one hand, Schuchard
expands on Menken’s work because Menken has published an
analysis of only half the explicit Old Testament citations in
John. On the other hand, the dialogue with Menken seems to
limit the discussion. This reviewer wishes there had been more
rigorous debate with Raymond Brown, Rudolf Schnackenburg
and other scholars.
Chapter three, “Bread from Heaven” (p. ) provides an
interesting review of the monograph’s methods. Schuchard
begins by noting that the introductory citation suggests that
John : refers to only one Old Testament passage. Analysis of
Exodus :,; Nehemiah : and Psalm  (): leads to
two conclusions. “() Ps  (): is closer to what one finds in
John : than in any of the other possible sources that have
been considered by scholars. () Every feature of John’s citation can be traced to this passage and to its immediate context”(p. ). John’s usage of the passage is a product of “conscious intent” rather than “faulty memory”(p. ).
Schuchard’s analysis of the preceding context demonstrates that Jesus rejects the human presumption of his opponents that their conduct merits a miracle. When Jesus dismisses their claim, they hold up Moses to support their understanding. Since God is the non-specified subject in Psalm
():, that verse best fits the crowd’s intent of drawing a
comparison between Jesus and Moses. As the preceding context points to the Psalm by the (faulty) interpretation of the
crowd so the Psalm provides the best basis for understanding
the words which follow John :. The Johannine intent is evi-

dent in that “The precise form of this citation has been made to
correspond formally to the language of the verses which follow
it and explain its significance”(p. ). As an interesting aside,
Schuchard notes that his discussion “does not rule out the possibility that John understood his own church’s participation in
the Eucharist to be an integral extension and concretization of
the import of what is expressed in John ”(p. ). Schuchard
summarizes the chapter by stating that “John’s care in constructing this citation only serves to confirm the likelihood that
he recalls Psalm : OG.”
Schuchard’s judgments are precise but did not create complete confidence in this reviewer. Since Borgen and other
scholars have suggested that Psalm (): may itself be a
poetic interpretation of Exodus :, the Johannine citation
may be more complicated. For example, Schuchard points to
Johannine usage as the reason why ejk tou oujranou' cannot be,
as P. Borgen thinks, a reference to Exodus :. Schuchard
clearly states his own opinion but his opinion would be more
convincing if it had debated other points of view with more
vigor. This reviewer thinks that there is still room to debate
Schnackenburg’s statement, “It is therefore impossible to state
whether the evangelist is deliberately using a composite text or
altering a single passage to suit his purpose” (Rudolf Schnackenburg, The Gospel According to St. John, New York: Seabury
Press, vol. , , p.).
In review of the entire monograph, Schuchard performs a
valuable service on two fronts. On the exegetical level, his
detailed labor is helpful. On the scholarly level, his review of
Menken’s diverse works is also beneficial. Some readers will be
frustrated because Schuchard seldom enters the redaction critical debate on what, for example, stems from Jesus and what is
Johannine editing. Schuchard is more successful, in this
reviewer’s opinion, in showing how the OT passages were edited than in explaining why they were so edited. My opinion is
not intended to point to a flaw of the book but simply to state
that the monograph has more value for literary than theological concerns. Nevertheless, this Lutheran theologian greatly
appreciates the final words of the book: “Thus John employs
Old Testament citations as discrete, concrete illustrations of his
Gospel’s larger scheme to convey John’s conviction that the
entire Old Testament testifies to Jesus (:, -). Jesus,
therefore, has fulfilled all Scripture and is himself its ultimate
significance”(p. ).
Dr. Robert Holst, President
Concordia College
St. Paul, Minnesota


BRIEFLY NOTED
On Being a Christian: A Personal Confession. By Henry P.
Hamann. Adelaide: Lutheran Publishing House, .
This concise and conversational exposition of the Christian faith “from the point of view of one who, as a convinced
Lutheran, holds that to be a Lutheran and to be a Christian are
not in any way matters of tension”(p.), turned out to be Henry Hamann’s last will and testament to the church. Hamann
provides an apologetic for Lutheran theology set in a devotional tone. On Being a Christian is an excellent text for an adult
Bible class.
Major Themes in the Reformed Tradition. Edited by Donald K.
McKim. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, .
A compendium of essays organized under seven headings:
Foundational issues, theological themes, ecclesiological expressions, sacramental studies, liturgical dimensions, missiological
motifs and theological interactions. A very helpful introduction to Reformed theology and church life by leading representatives of that tradition, mostly from a neo-orthodox perspective.
Resident Aliens: Life in the Christian Colony. By Stanley
Hauerwas and William Willimon. Nashville: Abingdon Press,
.
Two Methodist theologians from Duke team up to write a
provocative critique of the church’s life and mission in North
America. Willimon and Hauerwas defend the thesis that “the
church is a colony, an island of one culture in the middle of
another” (p. ). A challenge to those who think that Christians
must cease to be “aliens” in order to evangelize the world.
Must reading.
Essays for the Church (two volumes). By C.F.W. Walther. Saint
Louis: Concordia Publishing House, .
The first volume contains convention essays by Walther
from - including such treatises as Gerhard on baptism,
confessional subscription, justification, adiaphora and communion fellowship. Volume two covers the last years of
Walther’s life (-) and is primarily devoted to a series of
Western District convention essays entitled “The Doctrine of
the Lutheran Church Alone Gives All Glory to God, An
Irrefutable Proof That Its Doctrine Alone is True.”
Martin Luther and the Long Reformation: From Response to
Reform in the Church. By James G. Kiecker. Milwaukee:
Northwestern Publishing House, .
Professor Kiecker sets the Reformation in the context of
the men and movements which preceded it, providing brief
but accurate sketches of primary reformers. The final chapters
are devoted to the post-Reformation developments of orthodoxy, pietism and rationalism, as well as the contemporary
challenges of liberalism and secularism. An excellent overview
of church history for the laity.
Our Great Heritage (three volumes). Edited by Lyle W. Lange.
Milwaukee: Northwestern Publishing House, .
The editor notes, “This three-volume collection of essays
is an attempt to preserve for future generations the great heritage which has come down to us from our fathers” (Vol. I, p.
xiii). A few of the treatises are by key WELS theologians of the
past (i.e., John Schaller, August Pieper and John P. Meyer), but
most are by contemporary professors and pastors. The essays
are organized around six themes: scripture, doctrine of God,
anthropology, Christology, soteriology and eschatology.
JTP
Logia Forum
SHORT STUDIES AND COMMENTARY
YOUR GOD IS TOO BIG
that where people are looking for God in greatness, wisdom
and strength, they will miss him altogether. Not in the wind.
Not in the earthquake. Not in the fire. These were too big for
Elijah. In the still, small whisper. . . .
If you wish to make God big, you are free to do so. If you
wish to confront the Lord God in his awesome splendor and
majesty, you are welcome to it. But as for me and my house,
we will just stay here with Christ the Lord who comes to us
finite creatures by becoming graciously small and who defends
us by felling the old evil foe with the one little word.
So, let others rant and complain if they think our confession is too narrow or our God is too small. We cannot survive
a God who is any larger. We cannot be comforted by a God
who is any bigger than him who is the living Christ confessed
in the Book of Concord.
JAB
“Now when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover, during
the feast, many believed in his name when they saw the signs
which he did. But Jesus did not commit himself to them,
because he knew all men and had no need that anyone should
testify of man, for he knew what was in man” (Jn :-).
J.B. Phillips claims to have written his book, Your God Is
Too Small, for church members who were letting inadequate
conceptions of God prevent them from catching a glimpse of
the true God. Another author, Jan Linn, has taken this a step
further in a popular work, What Ministers Wish Church Members Knew (Chalice Press, ). In behalf of contemporary
grass roots theology, Linn with all seriousness posits maxims
like: God is and always will be bigger than what any of us ever
thinks, and God is always larger than any human thoughts
about God.
Implicit in Linn’s statements is the judgment that a
denominational confession is too limited and confining for the
Lord God Almighty. He suggests that liberals, conservatives
and all those in between shouldn’t be so dogmatic about theology: defining Christianity merely serves to present too narrow
a picture of the big God—and the disputes which result damage the Christian witness in the world.
With regard to God, we may ask whether bigger is really
better. In response to Phillips and Linn who commend the
sovereignty of a big God, we commend the graciousness of a
small God.
Our comfort is not that God is big. Our comfort (and
even greater awe) is that the big God became small. He became
small like us, taking on flesh and blood for our sakes. And he
got even smaller. Humiliation can make us feel so short that
we could sit on the edge of a dime and still swing our legs, but
his humiliation was even smaller in the eyes of the world
which rejected him, in the eyes of his Father who forsook him.
He who became small for our sakes now comes to us in
small ways. A little water and a few words. A little bread and a
little cup; his body and his blood. We are too small for him to
come to us in his bigness. It is gospel where he comes to us in
the small ways of word and sacrament.
We ought not try to make these gracious means big by
adding things to them. God did not become small with the
intent that we should make him bigger by our rituals. Our
greatest delight is in the small things which are so small that
heaven and earth cannot contain them. That is to say: a smallness that is greater than greatness, a foolishness that is wiser
than wisdom, and a weakness that is stronger than strength so
PEARLS BEFORE SWINE
In his treatment of the Sermon on the Mount, Luther comes to
grips with Matthew :, a passage which isn’t often considered in
evangelism manuals. It is in this context that he takes note of
those who call themselves Evangelical but are not.
Do not give dogs what is holy; and do not throw your pearls
before swine, lest they trample them underfoot and turn to
attack you (Mt :).
The situation of a Christian who is supposed to speak and
preach the word of God and to confess it by his life is really a
dangerous one because of the people. He has good reason to
become impatient because the world is so infinitely evil and
because he lives in it surrounded by snakes and all kinds of
vermin. That is why he declares: Be careful not to throw what
is holy before swine and dogs, for they might trample it underfoot or turn to attack you. By this he intends to show them and


to teach them a lesson. Wherever they go to preach in public
before a crowd, they will find dogs and swine who cannot do
anything but trample on the gospel and then persecute the
preachers.
Now, who are the ones that trample on what is holy and
turn against us? This, too, happens in two areas, both in doctrine and in life. In the first place, it is the false teachers that do
it. They take our gospel and learn it; thus they get our jewel
and precious treasure in which we are baptized and live and of
which we boast. Then they go back where they came from and
start preaching against us and turning their snouts and teeth
against us. Our sectarian fanatics used to keep very quiet when
the pope was raging and ruling and you never heard a peep out
of them. Now that we have run the danger of opening the path
and of liberating them from the tyranny of the pope, and now
that they have heard our doctrine and can imitate our preaching, they go out and turn against us. They become the worst
enemies we have on earth, and no one has ever preached as
badly as we though without us they would not have known
anything about it.
In the second place, the situation is the same with regard
to life. This is true most of all among us where there is contempt or boredom with the gospel and where things have progressed so far that a preacher can hardly make a living anymore. Squire Bigwig out in the country monopolizes all the
land and keeps the preachers in such a way that they cannot
help losing their taste for preaching. He makes them his servants so that they have to preach and do what he wants. After
him comes a Squire Skinflint in the cities of Tom, Dick, and
Harry. They maintain that they do not want any gospel or
word of God. Yet it is from us that they got their freedom from
the tyranny of the pope and all their other possessions, even
the outward ones. Now they would like to drive us out into the
country along with our gospel, or to starve us out.
Well, there is nothing we can do about it. We have to put
up with these snakes, dogs, and swine surrounding and corrupting the gospel both in doctrine and in life. Wherever there
are faithful preachers they always have to take this. Such is the
fortune of the gospel in the world. If it should ever develop
again that people like the pope and the bishops have control—
I have often predicted this, and I am afraid that it may happen
all too soon—then the gospel will be eliminated altogether and
trampled down, and its preachers will be done for. The gospel
has to be a doormat for everybody and the whole world walks
over it and tramples it underfoot, along with its preachers and
pupils. Now, what are we going to do about it? “Do not throw
it,” Christ says, “before swine and dogs.” “Yes, dear Lord, but
they already have it. Since the proclamation is in public and is
broadcast into the world, we cannot keep them from coming
across the gospel and taking it for themselves.” But this still
does not mean that they have it, and, thank God, we can keep
them from getting at what is holy. They may perhaps get the
shells and the husks, that is, the freedom of the flesh. But all of
them—dogs or swine, bigwigs or misers or peasants—shall be
prevented from getting a single letter of the gospel, though
they may read all the books and listen to all the sermons and
get the idea that they know it thoroughly.

. . . The art that Christ is teaching us here, therefore, is
how to separate ourselves from any such hog or dog we may
see. . . . [They] will hold in esteem both the dear word and
those who preach it and gladly listen to it. Where this is not so,
we shall regard them as swine and dogs and tell them that they
will get nothing from us. Meanwhile we shall let them read and
listen and lay claim to the name Evangelical, if they choose, the
way I have to do with certain bigwigs and towns. This much is
sure: Whoever despises the office of the ministry will not think
very highly about the gospel. Since they trample the ministers
and the preachers underfoot and treat them more cruelly than
the peasants treat their hogs, we shall take back our pearls and
see how much of the gospel they will have without any thanks
to us. If you can trample the word of God and its preachers
underfoot, he can trample you underfoot as well.
. . . It must not be this way among Christians. Those who
have honest and pious hearts should highly esteem their ministers and preachers in all humility and love, for the sake of
Christ and of his word. They should regard them highly as a
gift and jewel given by God, more precious than any temporal
treasure or possession. Similarly, true and pious preachers will
faithfully seek only the welfare and the salvation of all people.
They will not impose any burden on them, either in their consciences or even outwardly in their temporal possessions and
physical existence. Whoever despises them should know that
he is not a Christian and that he has lost the treasure once
more.
Our preaching and admonition is for everyone who will
accept it and agree with us. Whoever refuses to do so and yet
uses the name of the gospel or the pretense of Christian brotherhood to despise us and to trample us underfoot, against him
we use the art of letting him keep the pretense but actually taking everything back, so that he has nothing left at all. We have
the command to separate ourselves from such people. We do
not enjoy doing it and we would have preferred to have them
stay with us. But since they refuse, we must let them go and
not let them ruin our treasure or trample it underfoot (AE
:-).
INSTRUCTION OR
RELIGIOUS ENTERTAINMENT?
The following excerpt is from the preface to Gerald Bray’s Creeds,
Councils, and Christ, a reprint of the Concordia Theological
Seminary Press, ., pp. -.
Conservative Christians have lost a sense of worship. It
has generally been assumed that modern translations of the
Scriptures and free forms of service would make it easier to
worship God. In fact, the reverse has proved to be the case. It is
no longer possible to use one version of the Bible as a common
point of reference, and different translations of the same passage are just as likely to cast doubt on the text as they are to
illuminate it. Enforced spontaneity in worship has led to awk-
 
wardness and confusion, and contributed to an atmosphere in
church which many find painfully irreverent.
At a deeper level, many otherwise conservative Protestants
have accepted these changes in complete ignorance of the fact
that the Authorized Version of the Bible and the Book of Common Prayer were composed after the Reformation with the
express purpose of conveying the Reformed understanding of
biblical doctrine. One may agree that they are far from perfect,
and accept that their modern substitutes are often superior on
many points of detail, but the latter come nowhere near the
classical texts in their desire to promote the distinctive teaching of the Reformation. On the doctrinal level they often fall
down badly, though most conservatives have hardly noticed.
This is because conservative Christians have also lost a sense of
doctrine.
The confusion and uncertainty surrounding our public
worship has its roots in a widespread failure to appreciate the
importance of Christian doctrine. The modern church has
been so concerned to extol the virtue of love that it has ignored
the claims of truth, and conservatives too have fallen into this
trap. Our churches proclaim a gospel which too often is
grounded in personal experience and is only vaguely related to
theological principle. There are exceptions of course, but our
most gifted evangelists are more likely to be noted for their
repertoire of memorable anecdotes than for their deep grasp of
Christian truth, and this tendency is reflected in popular tastes.
Light-weight biographies and potted commentaries far outsell
serious works of theology, and those who preoccupy themselves with the latter are liable to be branded as bigots or bores
(or both!). Conservative Christians cannot escape from the
charge that they have replaced instruction in the things of God
with religious entertainment, and that the doctrinal backbone
to their preaching is decidedly weak. Many have no idea that
creeds and confessions are an essential aid to Christian growth,
and that the quality of our spiritual life is directly dependent
on our understanding of spiritual truth. They do not know
that the great centuries of the Church have been marked not
by an aversion to doctrine and theological controversy, but by
a passion for these things.
Of course controversy can be unpleasant and divisive, but
the New Testament is full of it, and the great arguments of the
past have seldom diminished our respect for the truths for
which men fought and died. Conservative Christians need to
recover a sense of their heritage, both in order to be able to
defend it more intelligently and in order to be able to enjoy it
as a living reality in their spiritual experience today.
EFFECTIVE FISHING
“Follow me and I will make you fishers of men” (Mt :).
Depth finders, sonar, tackle boxes, scented lures, graphite
poles, and bass boats that cost more than the homes affordable
for low-income Americans: this is what some associate with
“fishing.” Then there are those who would sit on a grassy bank

under a willow with a bamboo pole and a can of worms. Is one
fisherman more effective than the other or are both reliant
upon some factor which cannot be humanly controlled?
And what about those would-be fishers of men? At this
thought, some instantly picture congregations paying thousands of dollars in church growth consultant fees, printed
materials, video production and projection equipment, and all
the rest. The intent is that they will be better fishers of men
with all the extras—as though fish are happier to be caught by
high-tech fishermen than by a bumpkin with a bamboo pole.
But is this a reliance on men rather than on God? Is this suggesting that the effective means for evangelism are not located
in the means of grace but in motivational, manipulative methods?
In fishing, the setting of goals is arbitrary and not in itself
conducive to a better catch. In fact, it may be more conducive
to disappointment and discouragement. The equipment-laden
fisher sets the goal: “I’m going to catch ten fish today.” The
other goes out without any goals, just for the joy of fishing. On
that day, the former nets five and the latter nets four. Is the
former better off for having set a goal? Did the goal make him
a more effective fisherman? Or did it merely lead to disappointment because he only caught half of his goal?
Some of these fishers of men are intent on using a huge
dragnet, like mass telephoning. It doesn’t matter if nonrespondents have been irritated by the inconvenient interruption of just one more phone solicitation. For the sake of the
gospel, it is worth irritating such people, just as it’s okay to kill
a few stray dolphins in nets intended for a profitable catch of
tuna.
The disciples had fished all night when the Lord came to
them (Jn ). They were trying to be as effective as they possibly could. Was their failure to catch fish the result of their
being ineffective or inept fishermen? The catching of fish was
not in their effectiveness, but in what was given by their Lord.
Just so, talk about “effective” evangelism is not gospel talk. The
establishing of goals is not essentially gospel work. We are not
concerned with being effective—we are happy to receive whatever the Lord causes to be gathered in through simple means
that are meet, right and salutary in the joy of gospel fishing.
With a bit of imagination, what has been said of fishermen
can also be said of farmers. A farmer can only plant and fertilize. But unless the Lord gives the increase, all his investment
comes to naught. Oh yes, there are farmers who take pride in
their ability to get more bushels per acre than their neighbors—and pastors who take pride in having more converts
than their neighbors. How pleasing is such pride before the
Lord? Sometimes in spite of himself, the farmer has an abundant crop—and the farmer with all his fertilizers and insecticides, soil sampling, up-to-date tractors and combines and
irrigation equipment can go bust.
Whatever the imagery, our delight as fishers of men or
sowers of the gospel does not rest in effective means but in gracious means, not in our effectiveness but on our heavenly
Father’s graciousness for the sake of his Son, our Lord Jesus
Christ.
JAB

GOTTESDIENST AND
EVANGELICAL IDENTITY
That North American Lutherans have no real understanding of what it means to be Lutheran appears to be almost
axiomatic. Those for whom the Lutheran Church is part of
their family heritage come largely from an agrarian background; they are the descendants of immigrants who came to
this country for a variety of reasons. Some, as was the case with
the Saxon immigrants, came for the purpose of finding a home
where they could be Lutherans rather than members of a
church combining Lutheran with other confessional backgrounds. Others came to escape what they thought to be the
repressive spiritual atmosphere of Lutheran state churches
which they believed were inimical or hostile to true and pious
spirituality.
Countless others came for largely economic reasons, and
they looked for the Lutheran Church in this country to be
largely congruent to what they had known in Europe. All of
them tended to define and describe themselves in terms of the
backgrounds from which they had come. Some of them determined to maintain the culture, customs, and linguistic heritage
of their own ethnic groups. Others sought to maintain that
heritage in modified form, in church and home, while otherwise relating themselves to the English-speaking communities
in which they found themselves. Others early saw a need to
integrate themselves culturally and ecclesiastically to the larger
community. A notable example of this was the attempt to promote the Definite Platform of American Lutheranism which
provoked such a strong reaction almost one hundred and fifty
years ago.
The proposals of the Definite Platform were plainly premature. For a variety of reasons the vast majority of American
Lutherans in  were not ready to abandon the sacramental
position of Lutheranism, adopt the “New Measures” of the
Protestant churches, and abandon catechesis in favor of
revivalism. The majority of Lutherans at that time still defined
themselves in terms of Lutheran churches in which such things
played no part. The writings of Charles Porterfield Krauth and
Beale Schmucker sought to reinforce a Lutheran consciousness among these people, albeit with a kind of Anglo-Saxon
patina. Later writers, such as Theodore Schmauk, Charles Gerberding, and Henry Eyster Jacobs sought to maintain that consciousness in a time when Lutherans were relating themselves
more and more to the larger spiritual milieu, at a time when
the Augustana Synod and some other immigrant groups were
reaffirming their ethnic context.
Perhaps the most decisive factor in the Americanization of
American Lutheranism was World War I. Lutherans realized
that they were Americans and began self-consciously to relate
themselves to American Protestantism, and pattern their public worship and self-characterization on that basis. Divine Services held in the original languages of the various Lutheran
synods continued to maintain the traditional usus in liturgy,
chant, and vestments. Pastors who had chanted the liturgy and
wore eucharistic vestments or the traditional Talar in those

services now officiated at English-language services in which
they wore a Geneva gown and never chanted. English-language
translations of the national liturgies of the various German and
Scandinavian groups quickly gave way to the Common Service, which represented a kind of Anglicanized version of
materials gleaned from authentic Lutheran sources. Kneeling
for prayer and making the sign of the cross ceased to be typical
Lutheran practices.
Characteristically, North Americans, unclear about their
place in American society, began to take on the characteristics
of the dominant American Protestant churches. On the eastern
seaboard, it was clearly the Episcopal Church which represented the religious establishment, and Lutherans in the East began
to note the Lutheran background of the Book of Common
Prayer, Lutheran influence on the Reformation of the Church
of England, the congruence of Anglican forms with the Lutheran church orders, and earlier cooperation between some elements in the Church of England and German Lutheranism.
Lutherans built churches in English gothic style (complete
with chancel choir stalls), Lutheran pastors assumed the vesture of Episcopal priests, etc. In the middle west, the so-called
heartland of American Lutheranism, where Methodism and
Presbyterianism predominated, Lutherans self-consciously
patterned their worship and vesture upon the model provided
by those churches. As an elderly parishioner in Detroit told me
some three decades ago, congregations were told that the old,
Lutheran ways were “un-American” or even “Roman
Catholic” and must therefore be cast aside. It was during this
period that congregations came increasingly to abandon or
curtail the use of the chalice at Holy Communion, in favor of
the thoroughly American individual cups. Even terminological
changes were made—with the typical Lutheran distinction
between Lutheran and other Konfessionen giving way to the
colorless term denominations.
Having adopted for themselves the chameleon-like practice of assuming the outward characteristics of more dominant
groups, Lutherans are now no longer sure of who they are or
where they stand. The early years of the ELCA merger have
seen a major struggle between those (Easterners) who believe
that church’s primary self-definition ought to be made with
reference to the Episcopal Church and those (Middle-Westerners) who opt for identification with Presbyterianism and
general American Protestantism. The LCMS, which has largely
forced itself into association with so-called Evangelical Fundamentalism, is now being pushed to free itself of any vestige of
its traditional ecclesiastical, liturgical, and even ministerial heritage, and wed itself permanently to the Evangelical self-understanding.
My thesis is that doctrinal theology plays only a minimal
role in all this. It is a sociological problem. Not that theology is
thought to be unimportant; theology is thought to be irrelevant to it. I really doubt that the majority of people in ELCA,
WELS, ELS and LCMS would self-consciously deny anything
they learned in catechesis, but the fact of the matter is that they
learned very little indeed, and what little they learned has not
informed their spirituality very deeply. Other factors have been
far more determinative. In this respect, the situation is much
 

the same as it was during the hey-day of Lutheran Pietism. I
believe that Pietism was not a reaction to orthodoxy, but a further development of that later orthodoxy which gave all the
right answers but forgot the urgent questions which those
answers had addressed. Orthodoxy became quite pro forma. As
a young pastor I quickly noted from home visits that the same
people who professed a strong commitment to Missouri Synod
Lutheranism and its liturgical and hymnic heritage almost
invariably listened at home to “Religious Favorites by Tennessee Ernie Ford” or had on their pianos religious songs of
the Rodehever, Lake Winona type.
What can we do about it? First, those who are called to
serve the Lord and his church in positions of importance and
influence must themselves be sure of their understanding of
Lutheranism as a valid and catholic confession. They must
know what is basic to Lutheranism, so that legitimate cultural
and societal expressions of it can develop. Second, catechesis
must once again predominate, in place of the pep-rally kind of
revivalism that has become so characteristic of synodicallysponsored worship experiences. The people need catechesis,
and we give them dog and pony shows. Third, better hymnic
and liturgical materials must be provided by synodically affiliated publishing houses, materials which pastors and people
can use as is.
Creative Worship (CPH) is a good idea gone bad because it
ignores the Lutheran liturgical tradition. Now we must radically alter it, so that it provides confessions which confess sins,
absolutions which absolve sinners, and benedictions which
bless. If for no other reason, the Commission on Worship
needs to be brought back to full strength, with a full time executive director. Besides, such material will make lots of money!
CJE
THE JOY OF THE DIVINE SERVICE
In a recent Minnesota South district supplement to the
Lutheran Witness, President Lane Seitz writes:
I am sure you are familiar with the name Paul
Harvey. He is a well-known radio broadcaster. Over
the years I have enjoyed listening to his news broadcasts. His content, style, and voice make his an interesting radio program.
He was reporting about a survey that had been
conducted concerning people’s church-going habits.
The response of a teenager is what caught my attention. She stated that she went to church a couple of
times, but came out feeling worse than when she went
in, so she stopped going.
I have wondered since that day how many other
people have had the same experience. Undoubtedly
quite a few. More important, though, is how many
people might have had that experience in your
church. To put it a different way, do people feel better
when they come out of your church than they did
when they went in?
While it is somewhat dangerous to depend on
your feelings, it is safe to say that a person should feel
better when they come out of church than when they
went in. That is the nature of the Gospel—the Good
News of God’s salvation in Jesus Christ. It makes us
feel better because it announces to us what God has
done for us—how He loved us in eternity and
planned our redemption in the fullness of time.
. . . Having served as a parish pastor for a number of years, I know it is not easy to provide a meaningful worship experience each week. It takes work—
hard work—on the part of a number of people. But
it’s worth all the effort it takes if people feel better
when they leave church than when they came. And
it’s easy to know when that’s true because they’ll
come back for more of that Good News.
Seitz is right. It is dangerous to depend on our feelings as
an indicator of whether the divine service has hit home. This
article, however, has done more to intensify the danger than to
alleviate it.
As Seitz describes it, one might imagine that those who
came to Jesus would have felt better after talking with him
than when they first came to him. That was not always the case
for Jesus (or his apostles). In fact, there were some who were
all pumped up to serve Jesus when they came but left him
completely deflated (e.g., Mt :-; Jn :-).
In the divine service, Jesus Christ presents himself
through the word of his law and in the word of his gospel. It is
not unrealistic to think that every Sunday there will be people
who will leave the service feeling less “happy” than when they
came in. That could very well be true because they came in
looking for a different Jesus than the one who is present
through the means of grace. Our Lord describes gospel seeds
falling upon more infertile places than fertile (Mt :-).
Those who want to provide a meaningful worship experience will have plenty of hard work trying to keep everybody
happy. Those pastors not only have the hard work of keeping
the congregation enthusiastic and upbeat; they will have to
keep themselves enthusiastic and upbeat and therein lies the
greater potential for burn-out. In order to avoid that burnout, many will turn to sermon illustration books or to the latest church growth gurus. At that point, the living word of God
has taken a back seat. Then they search for what works and is
effective apart from the means of grace.
It is a different kind of hard work which fills the hungry
with good things but sends the rich away empty (Lk :).
“Worship” becomes hard work only when humans are
attempting to be creative by the power of their own illustrative
imagination rather than relying upon the divine service wherein the Lord is doing his creating by the dynamis of the word.
One has a greater concern for the proper distinction between
law and gospel rather than worrying about preaching that is
ineloquent ( Cor :-).


The gospel rightly preached does not always make people
happy. That is because many souls are looking for a different
gospel than Christ crucified ( Cor :). They are looking for a
different life than that which dies daily to the self, taking up
the cross to follow Jesus. We ought not conform the divine
service to the emotional cravings of those for whom Christ
crucified is a stumbling block or folly ( Cor :). We ought
not conduct the liturgy or evangelism efforts on the basis of
surveys or exit polls, even if they are quoted by Paul Harvey.
The “somewhat” dangerous attention to feelings that Seitz
nonetheless commends becomes the vociferous opposition of
the most recent student body president of Concordia Theological Seminary. Students who follow in his wake lobby the
administration. They wish to do away with the orders of service which fail to be “enthusiastic.” They prefer to infiltrate
our congregations with lithe liturgies and blithe forms of
protestant worship in the hopes that no one will ever leave
their churches feeling worse than they did when they came in.
Paul Harvey, as Seitz relates, would lead us toward a joy
which is incurvatus in se, curved in on itself. Those who measure the divine service on the basis of how they feel after
church are looking to something within themselves. This is
diametrically opposed and contrary to a joy anchored in an
objective gospel which is extra nos, outside of us. Such a gospel
grants a faith which believes and returns even if hearts and
feelings are speaking exactly the opposite. That is the evangelical concern which moves us to catechize people before they
attend the divine service, rather than merely hoping to leave
them with some affectation after their departure.
JAB
THE QUEST FOR URBAN HOPE
I guess I heard the bottle smash behind me long before I
felt the glass hit my leg. I looked back in the direction it came
from and there standing before me was one of the kids from
my summer basketball program. He was an alright kid, I
thought. Looking at him now, there was something different.
It was his eyes.
The eyes of the children in the inner city are not the eyes
of children at all. There is an emptiness not of stupidity or
ignorance. It’s more like an emptiness of despair. Children’s
eyes are supposed to be bright eyes that look to the future with
admiration and hope.
The inner city (Detroit in my experience) has killed hope.
It is the greatest casualty of the urban war. A war that raises up
gangs and teaches children to hate. Hope dies away in the city
with rising unemployment, a harsh economy and racial tension. To hope is to look to the future. Essentially the future is
unimportant to people of the inner city. They need to worry
about today. How are they going to put bread on the table? Are
their children going to make it home from school?
The concerns of the children are no less temporal. They’re
hungry and need love. Often they have single-parent families
who have to work so much that they spend most of their time
alone in a locked-up, unheated home where the sound of
fights echoes from the streets. Hope has died in the inner city
and has taken trust with it. These two casualties are the result
of uncertainty, the result of not knowing what tomorrow will
bring or if tomorrow will ever come.
There is, however, a small voice amidst the din and rancor
of hopelessness and despair. That voice is heard through the
church which holds forth the word of life in the midst of a
dark and perverse generation. That voice longs to bring fullness to empty eyes and hope to hopeless lives, but the voice
itself is threatened. If it is silenced, so also is any opportunity
to give birth to the new hope which is found in Christ alone.
The voice of the gospel is threatened because inner-city
congregations are dwindling. Why are the people of the inner
city moving out? Why are inner-city congregations, who ten
and fifteen years ago had to set up chairs in the aisles, now asking people to sit up front so they can sing together?
If the church wishes to find the answers to these and other
questions, she had better start by looking at home. She had
better start by evaluating what is happening in the churches in
the inner city. The people aren’t just leaving the churches
because of the overwhelming guilt of watching the offering
plate go by and not being able to put anything in it. There is
more to it than that. The people depend on churches. The
churches used to be a stronghold of hope because the churches
were consistent. The churches have changed. No longer do
they represent steadfast continuity.
When churches began to feel the economic hardships of
the times, they imagined that a change in style might be more
uplifting (perhaps thinking that uplifted people might be people who would put a little more in the offering plate). Their
thinking went something like this: All week long these people
are the downtrodden. On Sunday they should be uplifted.
Unfortunately, the church has turned to the wrong means for
accomplishing that.
The church has begun to do a week-to-week variety worship figuring that variety will be the uplifting ingredient that
keeps people coming back. Wrong! The people neither need
nor want that kind of variety. In a world of inconsistency and
uncertainty, what the people need and want is a form they can
count on. What people need is a liturgy that will bring some
stability to their lives. They need to learn the repetitiveness of
the confession to understand that we all sin much. They also
need the forgiveness. The liturgy is a wonderful witnessing tool
in the inner city if it’s consistent. When the people don’t know
what’s coming next, they get frustrated and head for the door.
As a practical matter, the consistency of the liturgy is invaluable and irreplaceable.
What about the music? How are we to gear the music in
the inner city? That question is answered in the same way that
one gears the music in Pierce, Nebraska. The inner-city congregation doesn’t need inner-city music to fill its pews. It needs
music that is different from urban rap, rhythm and blues. It
needs music that acts like a flag to which people may be drawn
in the heat of the battle. The question has been asked, can you
take the organ into Harlem? The answer is no. You have to
 
take the organ into Harlem if you want Harlem to go into the
church! I know this doesn’t follow the prevailing wisdom of
the silver screen as depicted in Sister Act, but let Hollywood
believe what it wants. It is even less suited to deal with urban
hopelessness than with the down-and-out in Beverly Hills.
Go to the inner city. The thriving congregations are those
which offer not only a hot meal and a warm bed but also a
consistent liturgy with reverent music. The means of grace in a
consistent setting offers stability to frightened children and
hopeless parents who are tossed about from day to day with
uncertainties. Thus the inner city will find hope not in a
church which imitates urban culture, but in a church which
points to an eternal city of an altogether different character.
Vicar Robert D. Weller, Jr.
Trinity Lutheran Church
Palo Alto, California
META-CHURCH: PASTORS AS CEO’S
Carl George, in his book Preparing Your Church for the Future
(Revell, ), follows a pyramid kind of approach to the ministry. As one can note from the following excerpts, the pastor is at
the top of the pyramid—primarily as a pat-on-the-back visionmeister. The “important” things are accomplished through “cell
leaders.” This may seem very efficient, but is it truly evangelical?
A change in how one views the office of the holy ministry also
necessarily alters one’s doctrine of the means of grace, their
administration—and the very gospel itself. Walther’s description
of the office must be discarded—and a new resolution is needed to
rescind the LCMS’s previous synodical agreement so that Kirche
und Amt is no longer representative of their churches.
Rev. Brad Hoefs commends this very picture to our churches
in his recent Lutheran Worship Notes article (Spring , Issue
No. ), “Training Keepers of the Welcome Mat.” Compare his
allusion to workers at McDonald’s (p. ) to George’s McDonald’s
illustration near the end of this excerpt.
The church leader of the future will look more like a
music director than a bureaucratic leader. The symphony conductor deals with a large group, but enjoys the assistance of
sectional leaders for the strings, woodwinds. . . . Within those
groups are subleaders represented by the positions of first
trumpet . . . and so on. Various sections rehearse separately,
and much work goes on outside of the gatherings of the entire
orchestra. That’s how a Meta-Church functions. Its decentralization creates a flat organizational chart. The CEO may be at
the top of the structural configuration, but the heartbeat and
ministry center of the Meta-Church universe is where the X
[cell groupleader] is. . . . In a large church the senior pastor’s
position is much like a CEO (chief executive officer) in a business organization. CEO’s make only a small percentage of a
corporation’s decisions. Most CEO’s, for example, have a say
in, at most, ten percent of hiring changes. A CEO’s major
influence comes through vision-casting. Similarly, in a Meta-

church, the CEO’s [i.e. the pastor’s] greatest resource is the
broadcast of vision at worship services, at staff meetings . . . [p.
].
Whether a church is a cat-size fellowship of fifty or a
beyond-huge, metropolis-wide gathering of mice, its CEO’s
overriding message will still be directed at the X [cell leader],
saying, “Bless you, because you are the key to everything.
Don’t call the church staff first. We’re always available for
backup work, coaching work and referral work. God will use
you. You lay hands on the sick. You prepare them to receive
the blessings of the Spirit of God.”
. . . Unfortunately pastors in churches of less than  are
often so in love with providing primary care to their sheep that
they can’t bear to turn them loose. Until these shepherds learn
to measure their worth in different terms than those to which
they’ve been accustomed, they won’t radically empower cell
leaders. They’ll remain content to let their sheep pay them to
minister.
Those pastoring churches of  or more are likelier to
demonstrate the commitment and ability necessary to delegate
ministry to cell group leaders. These “ranchers” [yee hah!]
make the best candidates for a successful metamodel transition
[p. ].
. . . What management structure sees to it that the churches have a proliferation of ministry-centered nurture cells?
Meta-Church theory teaches that the central leadership task of
the church, after hearing from God, is the development of
laypeople who can minister the grace of God in its many forms
and, as a result, create obedient disciples of Jesus Christ who
apply the truths of the Bible to their everyday lives.
Church infrastructures do not simply happen. The
McDonald’s hamburger chain can deliver a piping-hot Quarter Pounder in less than one minute at the counter only
because of a methodology it has fervently, consistently, and
intentionally orchestrated. Its most critical person isn’t the
manager, but the minimum-wage teenager, man, or woman,
who has been trained to get that fresh hamburger to the customer. An entire system, involving millions of dollars of
research, thousands of careers, has been coordinated and
focused on making that one transaction between customer and
counter-person successful. If the last person to handle the customer’s order fails to perform his or her task, the entire franchise chain’s plan for service is torpedoed.
The significant church of the future is one that utilizes
nonclergy leadership as the primary medium through which
the gospel is propagated and the whole organization of staff
and lay leaders as the means by which one hungry person is
helped by a small group of others. In other words, the church
of the future will embark on a revolution in how its “business”
is perceived. Radical changes must occur at every level if lay
ministers of home-care groups are to be effective and supported in their work. I firmly believe that the God of creation has a
better plan for the health and wholeness of his people than the
traditional church is currently delivering. I have seen that dramatic transformation occur as pastors in every size church
organize their life, time, and vision around those activities that
produce lay ministers [p. ].

MISCONCEPTIONS IN EVANGELISM
Originally published in  under the title Grundsätze evangelischer Verkündigung, Hans-Lutz Poetsch’s book was translated
by H.P. Hamann and republished as Basics in Evangelism by the
Lutheran Publishing House of Adelaide, Australia, in . What
follows are some excerpts from that work.
What is meant by evangelism is not so easily defined. In
the past one hundred years, the understanding of the term has
moved from simply the spreading of the gospel where it has
not yet been heard to “an offering of salvation in Jesus Christ
that calls for decision.”
A century ago, Lutherans in Germany (as elsewhere) were
inclined to equate evangelization with foreign missions. In
fact, a well-known lexicon in  described it simply as “the
theory and history of foreign missions.” The necessity of evangelistic work among the masses estranged from the home
church was clearly passed over as irrelevant.
However, as apostasy, unbelief and moral decay made
inroads within the evangelical church itself, the necessity for
evangelistic work on the home front was seen, and such activity often became part of what was known as “inner missions.”
This evangelistic work which grew up was often carried out
independently of the official preaching program of the church
or of the ecclesiastical organization (P. Rahlenbeck, Realencyclopädie, p. ). And it was regarded as typical that such evangelistic proclamation could be carried out by zealous laymen as
well as by ordained clergy (particularly in America and other
English-speaking countries).
In , the th Congress of the Central Committee for
Inner Mission of the German Evangelical Church addressed
itself to this situation. In defining its position, it declared
(among other things) that, to meet the critical situation in
which large sections of the people were not being reached by
the regular pastorate and other agencies of the church, “there
is need of an extraordinary proclamation of the Word of God.
This public proclamation, which freely takes on different
forms depending on differing conditions, and which is not tied
to the local pastorate nor to regular formal services of local
congregations, is called evangelization.”
While it saw this activity as the task of pastors and candidates for the ministry “specially gifted in this direction,” it recognized also a place in it for “approved laymen.” However, it
emphasized that it was the organized church’s task to arouse
and develop “the gift necessary for the work of an
evangelist,”and that all evangelistic activity be firmly linked to
the organized church. “Uncontrolled evangelization” (that is,
evangelism in a vacuum, by persons or organizations independent of the church) was rejected and attacked.
Nowadays, when we think of evangelism, it is just this
rejected concept of “uncontrolled evangelization” which is
seen as typical by many people. And because of the theological
positions that lie behind many evangelistic movements of our
day, evangelism is often simply identified with the “call to
decision.” Such an understanding was unknown to the Reformation. For it, the spreading of the gospel meant more than

this—and something different as well. This may be the reason
why Pietism is frequently seen as the real mother of evangelism.
Churches in the confessional mold strongly opposed the
Pietistic groups and their representatives, for Pietism’s stress
on the life of faith and sanctification represented a change in
emphasis from the prevailing teachings of these churches. The
Pietistic streams plainly regarded personal intensity of faith
(fides qua creditur, the faith of the heart) as more important
than the confession of the clearly-defined content of faith (fides
quae creditur, the faith which is believed). In the polarization
which followed, the churches placed more and more emphasis
on the objective assertions of faith while the Pietistic movement clung to its separateness, and developed its own way of
thinking, continually facing the danger of splitting into more
and more new groupings—a danger which often became reality.
And yet it is true, as the history of the church makes clear,
that fruitful evangelistic action resulted where Pietism influenced the churches. For example, the revival movement of the
th century in Germany, the foundation of many diaconal
institutions and services, and the beginnings of “inner missions” through the efforts of Johann Heinrich Wichern, would
hardly be thinkable without Pietism. Where these revivals took
on a conscious confessional attitude at a later stage of their
development, they soon left the Pietistic sphere of influence. . . .
Such reciprocal blessings, however, as a rule have not led to the
point that either Pietism or the churches have given up their
specific character. The churches, in Europe at least, have a
more institutional stamp, and are held together by that fact as
well. Among the evangelicals, the following powerful influences should be noted: ) a synergistic understanding of conversion, ) a low estimate of the sacraments, ) a more or less
indifferent attitude in relation to the church and its confession,
and ) chiliasm (millennialism)—often of quite a crass kind.
All these have their effect on the understanding of evangelism
and evangelistic proclamation. As far as the churches are concerned, the trend once was to make the objective assertions of
faith all-important; but now this has given place, by way of
acceptance of a plurality of opinions concerning the faith, to
real divergences in the very central contents of the faith. At the
same time, an excessive emphasis on the institutional side of
the congregation and the church has remained, linked in turn
to a tendency to look within in order to find identity. . . .
Misconceptions concerning the content and the character
of evangelistic proclamation can be seen where the nature and
the scope of the biblical gospel have not been rightly grasped.
THE MORALISTIC MISCONCEPTION
This crops up wherever the improvement of moral conditions in the world is made the secret or openly acknowledged
goal of proclamation. The understanding of the gospel to be
found in liberalism, rationalism, and humanism leads to such
a wrong development. Jesus Christ is no longer the Redeemer,
but becomes more and more a pattern and an example to be
emulated. So the “third use” of the Law is surreptitiously made
in some way binding even on those far from Christ. In this
 
connection, questions have to be raised over against the
“kerygma” concept espoused by Bultmann and his followers—
and others, as well. All opinions which can be grouped under
the catchword “social gospel,” including the dissipation of
Christianity into socialism, belong to this disastrous false
understanding. The opposition by Christian groups concerned
about the fundamentals of the faith (“confessing groups”) to
laws permitting abortion, to the toning down of laws concerning marriage, or to the use of schools for the propagation of
some ideology like Communism, must also be mentioned—
that is, if it is brought to the pulpit during evangelistic functions with the intention of bringing about a better general
moral tone in society. There may well be reasons which can
lead churches or other organizations to express themselves
critically on morality in political, social, or economic affairs.
But that has nothing to do with evangelistic proclamation,
even if witness to the gospel is not completely excluded from
such criticism. The situation is certainly different when examples of the brutalization of morals are held up to those
addressed—the “second use” of the law is here involved—to
bring them to understand their true situation before God.
This moralistic misconception is met also where good
works are pointed to as the means of eternal salvation instead
of the gospel—or in close connection with it. . . .
And all attempts to make humanitarian activity, concern
for one’s fellowman, aid for developing countries, the struggle
against discrimination of every kind, etc., the real task and
message of the church in this present age are especially to be
rejected as false opinions. They are based on a wrong understanding of the commission of Christ given to his own in this
world, and they miss the essence of the gospel. They can be
considered in connection with the life of sanctification of
Christians, be approved in that connection, and in certain circumstances even be adopted. But in the realm of evangelization and mission, they are out of place because of their own
stated purpose.
THE CULTURAL MISCONCEPTION
This misunderstanding is to be met above all in the foreign mission field, where the conviction is frequently found
that aboriginal races (in the African bush, for example) must
be first brought to the cultural level of Western nations before
they are capable of accepting for themselves the gospel of Jesus
Christ.
Evangelistic preaching is not immune from such thinking.
Frequently reference will be made to the fact that the standard
of living of nations which have been Christianized is much
higher than that to be found in other peoples who are under
the control of heathen religions or, maybe, modern ideologies
(like Communism, for example). By a similar argument, it is
pointed out that the Christian, bound by his faith to a conscientious performance of the commandments of God, also lives
better than others: His family life is OK; self-control in the use
of resources for luxury and pleasures of various kinds helps
him to use money more wisely; faithfulness and reliability in
his job guarantee him employment and chances of promotion;
time and energy spent in the study of the Bible and instruction

in the Christian faith lead in most cases to intellectual stimulation and greater openness to human culture in its various
aspects; etc. All these possible (not always actual) accompaniments of the faith are not the purpose or primary goals of the
proclamation of the gospel. Reconciliation with God through
Jesus Christ and the gift of new life through God’s Spirit, the
comfort of a good conscience, and quiet trust in God even in
the most difficult conditions, are the specific gifts that are
granted with the gospel. A preaching of the gospel that does
not make clear distinctions at this point can thrust a person
into serious spiritual trials, if that earthly prosperity so confidently awaited on the basis of the promises expressed by the
evangelist does not eventuate for him despite all his endeavors.
THE PSYCHOLOGICAL MISCONCEPTION
I have in mind here the attempt to support the working of
the Spirit of God, and to compel faith, with the help of psychological insights or even “tricks.” It may be possible to attain
certain emotional effects in this way, to produce mass psychoses, or even to bring about “apparent conversions” by such
influencing of the human will. Such practices, however, do not
lead to spiritual change of the individual, for what is not
worked by the Spirit of God is to no purpose.
The gospel is not given power by manipulations of the
psyche, but is perverted by them. In this connection we may
think of “agitation,” of methods of group dynamics aimed at
changing personalities, of ecstatic music and sounds leading to
a form of ecstasy, of the use of suggestion in word and sound.
These may all seem for a time to have the results aimed at by
evangelism; in reality, they have been borrowed from heathen
religious practices or from purely human, ideological conceptions, and these in turn have developed from agnostic or atheistic prejudices or presuppositions.
THE SYNERGISTIC MISCONCEPTION
This misunderstanding also has to do with human support of the divine activity to bring men to salvation. But it
believes that the Holy Spirit presupposes this ability in men,
and that we are in the position to cooperate in our salvation. It
is not taken into account that, according to the clear assertions
of the New Testament, only the believer wants to cooperate
with God, and only the believer can so cooperate, the Holy
Spirit leading him. This cooperation is in the area of the sanctification of life (Phil :-). Evangelistic proclamation does
not presuppose such faith, but aims at the creating of such
faith; and here man can do nothing to help. It is important to
distinguish sharply between what the biblical statements say
concerning conversion and what they say concerning sanctification . . .
The question should probably be asked in this connection
whether we are not too free with our use of the term “conversion,” biblical though it is. Should we not rather make a distinction between that term and what Martin Luther describes
as “daily contrition and repentance” in the Small Catechism?

THE NIGHT OF THE
LIVING RECONCILERS
It was a typical Missouri Synod autumn, in the year . At
St. Feuerkirk Lutheran Church in Milwaukee, one Pastor Z.
Wingli was newly installed, and all the people were delighted.
This man was full of vim and vigor, and sure to bring in the people, for he was above all else interested in making this church’s
Primary Ministry the evangelizing of the people still outside the
church’s walls. His was to be no mere Maintenance Ministry, for
he was concerned with Church Growth above all. The only trouble with Pastor Wingli was that he wasn’t so sure he liked the
Lord’s Supper too much, because it tends to alienate unbelievers.
Within a year, plans were underway to have a great and
powerful Igniter Event in his congregation: a kickoff of sorts for
all the New Ideas for Witnessing and Evangelism which Pastor
Wingli had been teaching his people with great zeal. Igniter Sunday finally came, and with it, a host of New Ideas came to the
surface for inauguration. Among them were the old standard
New Ideas, like throwing away the hymnal and dumping the
liturgy, but there was also a new New Idea, which came up in
Pastor Wingli’s sermon. He had determined to do something
serious about the Lord’s Supper, rather than simply to let it fall
into disuse. Pastor Wingli was a brave man, and was unafraid of
speaking his mind. He discovered that the Lord’s Supper is a
great impediment to Church Growth only if it is seen as something mysterious. No, no, said he, there can be nothing at all
mysterious about the Lord’s Supper. Rather, the people must
begin to think of it as a wonderful expression of what the church
is all about. What it really is, said he, is a Symbol of our Unity and
Inclusiveness in Christ.
Generally the people liked what they heard, for they were
quite a growth-minded sort. The only trouble came from a
group of dissidents who had studied their catechism a bit. They
said, “Wait a minute; this is wrong,” and took their concerns to
the Circuit Counselor, whose name was the Rev. L. Uther. Now
Pastor Uther, quite unlike Wingli, tended to be rather stubborn
about doctrinal purity, especially when it came to the Sacrament.
So he went to talk with Pastor Wingli, in an attempt to set him
straight. But alas, Pastor Wingli was all too convinced of his new
New Idea, and had no intention of changing, even if he said so
with a great big smile on his face. Pastor Uther, after several
patient and careful attempts to show Pastor Wingli his error,
finally determined that he was left no recourse but to charge Pastor Wingli with false doctrine. What this meant for the Missouri
Synod in  was that he submitted a formal request to the District for a Reconciler, to begin the Reconciliation Process.
According to the established procedure, the District Secretary dutifully selected a Reconciler, a Mr. B. Ucer, who dutifully
directed Pastors Wingli and Uther to attempt an informal reconciliation again. But Uther had by now come to the opinion that
Wingli was nothing but an enthusiast, a Schwärmer, and hence
nothing reconciliatory was accomplished. Thus Mr. Ucer was
forced to arrange for a formal meeting, and during the next
month the three men met in a politically neutral room whose
furniture and setting were all carefully arranged ahead of time by

Mr. Ucer, all with the intent of making the disputants comfortable, so comfortable that they would forget about their quarrelling and reconcile. The meeting went along very amiably, and
Ucer was optimistic about the prospects of reconciliation, until it
became clear that in spite of the friendly atmosphere and coffee,
L. Uther was quite unwilling to retract his charge that Wingli was
teaching false doctrine and must stop.
Thus the Reconciliation process was forced to continue.
Now it fell into the hands of the Synod Secretary, who selected
the members of a Dispute Resolution Panel. Nine names were
taken from a blind draw, submitted to the parties for editing, and
then back to the Secretary for selection of the final three Dispute
Resolution Panel members. Of the nine names, only three were
to Uther’s liking, and Wingli, as was his right according to procedure, had them all removed. Of the remaining six names, three
were chosen in another blind draw: O.E. Clampedius, Carl Stadt,
and H. Onius. All three, it turned out, were lawyers, and none
had ever been to a seminary, though Onius’ husband had been to
one once.
At the formal hearing, held in the little politically neutral
town of Marburg, Kansas, it quickly became evident that Wingli
was more than willing to be nice. The trouble, it seemed to everyone present, was with Uther, who by now was mostly angry. He
said Wingli had a different spirit. Uther had even requested an
opinion from the CTCR on the Lord’s Supper, and the CTCR
had affirmed Uther’s position, but the Dispute Resolution Panel,
after careful consideration of all things, determined that the
essence of the dispute was not really theological at all. Rather, the
trouble was with Uther’s stubborn personality. So, one month
after the meeting, the Panel issued its final decision: Uther must
learn to be more gentle and friendly, and stop complaining about
the way Wingli preaches. Uther quickly objected, saying the
CTCR agreed with him, but the Panel replied, “We don’t think
that matters so much, and besides, what we say is final.”
When the District President heard, he at once requested a
rehearing on strictly theological grounds: Wait! Wait! Isn’t the
Lord’s Supper the body of Christ? But the Panel, according to their
synodically given rights, denied the request. Then a whole host of
Uther sympathizers rallied behind Uther. They took out their
Augsburg Confessions, and said, Wait a minute! Look: Article
XXVIII,  says that the jurisdiction to judge doctrine and to reject
doctrines contrary to the gospel belongs to the office of the ministry
by divine right. You three Panel members aren’t even pastors. You
haven’t even gone to seminary. Why, you’re just a bunch of lawyers.
And we were all told, back in , that this new Reconciliation
process was going to make the Missouri Synod’s dispute resolution
procedures more biblical. This just isn’t right! But the Dispute Resolution panel was Resolute. They had done their job. The case
was closed.
So Pastor Wingli went back to Milwaukee. The following
year Uther died, and the vacancy was given to Wingli, who
immediately began catechism instruction there. Two years later,
after a long vacancy, a new pastor finally accepted their call to
succeed their beloved Pastor Uther. His name was the Rev. C.
Alvin.
BJE
 

EITHER/OR
ism as an ideology, noting that pluralism is perniciously exclusive of certain voices (i.e., voices that speak in favor of absolute
truth claims). America’s “culture wars,” according to Jenson,
are in reality wars about the biblical God who is indeed a jealous God, a God who provides rescue from antecedent religions. Jenson worries that our churches have lost contact with
the anti-pluralist character of Israel’s Scriptures, and as a result
offer approaches to “evangelism which try to persuade the
pagans that we are just like them.”
“Keeping the Faith: An Orthodox Perspective” was an
essay in theological method by Paul Wesche of St. Herman’s
Orthodox Church in Minneapolis. Fr. Wesche noted that “new
models of God lead to new models of humanity, Christ, ecclesiology and soteriology. The root cause of new heresies today is
the assertion that God cannot be known as he is.” ln a paper
that was poetic and passionate, Wesche anchored the apologetic task within the liturgy, for it is here that the church
comes to know her God.
The conference was brought to a conclusion with a paper
by Carl Braaten, the Executive Director of the Center for
Catholic and Evangelical Theology. Speaking on “The Gospel
for a Neopagan Culture,” Braaten urged the church to muster
the weapons of history, kerygma and dogma against the gnostic challenge of neopaganism. “Whether we live or die as a
church in North America will be determined by the sturdiness
and fullness of our christology,” Braaten contended. It was
from this christological foundation that Braaten observed that
Pietism (and its child and heir, the Church Growth Movement) is fertile soil for the new paganism. “The relevant
church” said Braaten “is sowing the seeds of its own irrelevance.”
For information regarding the availability of the papers
presented at “Either/Or,” contact the Center for Catholic and
Evangelical Theology,  Endwood Trail, Northfield, MN
. The Center is planning a conference entitled “Reclaiming the Bible for the Church” for June -,  on the Saint
Olaf campus. Information on this conference may be obtained
from the same address.
JTP
Carl Braaten and his associates at the Center for Catholic
and Evangelical Theology in Northfield, Minnesota served up a
meaty fare at a conference organized under the theme
“Either/Or: The Gospel or Neopaganism” (April -, ).
The presenters, representing Roman Catholic, Orthodox,
Methodist and Lutheran traditions, offered insightful critiques
of the new paganism that dominates modern culture and
seems to seep, often undetected, into the churches, poisoning
worship and mission.
Former bishop of the LCA James Crumley delivered a
keynote address on “Setting the Church’s Agenda.” Crumley’s
remarks were candid and to the point: “Most things said to be
ecclesiastical are not grounded in ecclesiology. The criteria
used to measure the effectiveness of the church are perhaps the
greater part of the problem.” Drawing on Leslie Newbigin’s
The Gospel in a Pluralistic Society, the former bishop lamented
the loss of nerve that allows a church to become servant to
sundry causes. We wish Crumley would have followed through
with a Lutheran ecclesiology rather than one shaped by Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry in his reflections on the ELCA’s
move toward altar and pulpit fellowship with the Reformed.
Church historian Robert Wilken of the University of Virginia used patristic writers to call the church away from the
tentativeness of much contemporary religious discourse to the
knowledge of God that we are given in Jesus Christ. “The
church has no mandate to make up things as it goes along,”
declared Wilken. We can only wonder how Wilken and other
ELCA participants at this conference would apply this principle to the innovative practice of placing women in the pastoral
office. Even at a free theological conference in ELCA territory
there are some questions that dare not be asked.
Perhaps the most intriguing paper was given by a
Methodist theologian, L. Gregory Jones, on “The Psychological
Captivity of the Church.” Jones noted that the most influential
religious figures in contemporary society are not theologians
but therapists. Therapy has become a substitute for the gospel
and the church is held captive by the dominance of this false
gospel. The truth of the gospel is replaced by therapeutic technique. Psychological inventories take priority over doctrinal
and spiritual canons in the certification of seminary graduates.
Jones called for the church to leave psychology to the psychologists and return instead to the classic means of pastoral care
grounded in the eschatological nature of the apostolic gospel.
Joseph A. DiNoia of the Dominican House of Studies in
Washington, D.C., has distinguished himself as an opponent
of the universalism of Paul Knitter and John Hick. In a paper
entitled “Christian Universalism: The Non-Exclusive Particularity of Salvation in Christ,” DiNoia attempted to preserve the
particularity of Jesus Christ as the only way of salvation with a
lively hope for the eternal welfare of those who die without
faith in him. Key to DiNoia’s argument was a progressive view
of justication as elevans et sanans with its correlative doctrine,
purgatory. The means of grace and faith were conspicuously
absent from this paper.
Robert Jenson’s paper “The God Wars” dissected plural-
TELL ME, PASTOR
“How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel
of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!” (Rom :).
O Pastor, how I rejoice to hear you preach the precious “word
of reconciliation”—to hear that “though my sins be as scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow” (Is :).
But tell me, Pastor. Is it because that precious word is so
precious that you preach it so sparingly? Or have I so successfully masked my sinful nature that you are deceived into thinking I have no need to hear it?
Yet that can’t be so, can it? You know me too well. You are
not deceived by my faithful attendance, my knowledge of the
scriptures . . . not even by my service to the church! You have
suffered the sharpness of my tongue, have witnessed my fool-

ish pride, and you know that I am a sinner! Why, then, do you
deny to me the “hearing of faith” that I might be confronted
with my sinful nature and be led to repentance by “the gospel
of peace”? Why not Law and Gospel preaching?
O Pastor, who has bewitched you, as Paul might say, that
you would forego preaching the “glad tidings of good things”
in favor of a host of lesser messages? Why would you preach
sanctification without a clear view of the cross, the sovereignty
of God without the assurance of his grace in Christ Jesus, or
the right and God-pleasing understanding of such issues as
abortion, euthanasia, evolution, and situation ethics—all apart
from the “the preaching of the cross”?
Is it not the cross that makes sanctification possible? Is it
not God’s grace in Christ Jesus that enables us to please our
sovereign God? And is it not the preaching of the cross that

strengthens and empowers us to meet the challenges and
temptations of our daily lives? Indeed, without the cross,
might we not have all the “right” views, yet with pharasaic certainty, spend our eternity in hell?
So, Pastor, I beg of you to lay bare my sinful nature. With
“the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God” (Eph
6:17), cut deeply so that the infection of sin in me might be
exposed to the healing balm of the “gospel of peace.” Cut
deeply, lest I perish in a corruption of works righteousness!
Paul had it right (by inspiration, of course!) when he
declared: “For I determined not to know anything among you,
save Jesus Christ, and him crucified” ( Cor :).
William Fellows
Waterford, Michigan