Eroding Christian Freedom?
Below are four quotes, taken from three different eras, past, present, and proposed future, that represent the attitude of the Lutheran Church–Missouri Synod towards its member congregations. As you can see, our proposed future is one of possible servitude if left unchecked. Now is the time to speak out. A freedom lost is not so easily regained. Don't let your freedom in Christ to be taken away, or we'll be "walking together" in handcuffs and leg irons.
...according to the constitution under which our Synodical union exists, we have merely the power to advise one another, that we have only the power of the Word, and of convincing. According to our constitution we have no right to formulate decrees, to pass laws and regulations, and to make a judicial decision, to which our congregations would have to submit unconditionally in any matter involving the imposing of something upon them. Our constitution by no means makes us a consistory, by no means a supreme court of our congregations. It rather grants them the most perfect liberty in everything, excepting nothing but the Word of God, faith, and charity. According to our constitution we are not above our congregations, but in them and at their side.
PRESENT
Article VII, 1. of the current LCMS Constitution:In its relationship to its members the Synod is not an ecclesiastical government exercising legislative or coercive powers, and with respect to the individual congregation’s right of self-government it is but an advisory body. Accordingly, no resolution of the Synod imposing anything upon the individual congregation is of binding force if it is not in accordance with the Word of God or if it appears to be inexpedient as far as the condition of a congregation is concerned.Bylaw 1.7.2 of the current LCMS Constitution:The Synod expects every member congregation of the Synod to respect its resolutions and to consider them of binding force if they are in accordance with the Word of God and if they appear applicable as far as the condition of the congregation is concerned. The Synod, being an advisory body, recognizes the right of a congregation to be the judge of the applicability of the resolution to its local condition. However, in exercising such judgment, a congregation must not act arbitrarily, but in accordance with the principles of Christian love and charity.
PROPOSED FUTURE
The change proposed by the Blue Ribbon Task Force on Synod Structure and Governance in its “Walking Together: The LCMS Future” document:The task force proposal clarifies and affirms that the Synod expects every member congregation of the Synod to respect its resolutions and to consider them of binding force on the assumption that they are in accordance with the Word of God and that they are applicable to the condition of the congregation.
Random pickings from a Lutheran pastor devoted to the life of Christ in the Body of Christ for the life of the world.
10 September 2008
A Must Read (and Strong Caveat)
Scott, over at "Stand Firm," has posted this must-read column on the proposed "restructuring" of LCMS polity. I quote his post here in its entirety to help "spread the word."
Once again, kudos, dittos, and hearty "Amens" to Fr. Hollywood - this time for his post on "Christology from the Mouths of Babes." Here are a couple of paragraphs to whet your appetite and lead you to read his entire post for this wonderful pearl of wisdom:
Little children instinctively seem to understand that the pastor, the preacher, the one who is always talking about Jesus, the one who wears churchly vestments, stands in the front of the church, and makes the sign of the cross - is somehow inextricably linked to Jesus.
Maybe this is why our Lord says we must become as little children to inherit the Kingdom. When we get older, many of us no longer see a man in persona Christi, but rather a hireling, a functionary, a guy with a job. We begin to see the minister not for who he is and for Whom he acts (ontologically), but rather for what he does (functionally) - and then we are quick to posit that anyone else can do the same job. We begin to see ordination as nothing more than a quaint little ceremony and the ministry as merely a function that can be carried out by vicars, "lay ministers," DCEs, and lay elders. After all, lots of people are "ministers" who have a "divine call" - not just "ministers of religion - ordained" (as the bureaucrats would say).
05 September 2008
Homily - Trinity 16
Dying to Live 1 Kings 17:17-24 & Luke 7:11-17
In his book, Dying to Live: the Power of Forgiveness, Pastor Harold Senkbeil says this: “There’s only one bottom line in this world of ours: Death.” He also goes on to say: “Ultimately, all of life is lived graveside. We are all dying—from the youngest newborn to the oldest nursing-home resident. We might be dying to live, but we’re all dying.”
How’s that for a reality check on this Sunday morning? But it’s true, isn’t it? Every human being on the face of God’s good Earth may be dying to live, but deep down we all know that we’re living only to die. Don’t believe me? Go visit the cemetery. Still don’t believe me? Ponder this: the death rate in this world is always one per person – always has been, always will be – until Jesus returns, that is. A surgeon once gave a lecture to some seminary students. He talked about the great advancements of medical science. Then he told those students: “Do not forget…that with all this advancement, the mortality rate remains 100%.”
Notice how we try just about anything and everything to avoid or deny death—tummy tucks and Oil of Olay moisturizing cream for wrinkles; memberships at Gold’s Gym and youthful clothes to help us “feel young” again; Clairol hair colors and Grecian formula to help keep the gray out. We idolize the vitality of the 15-20 year olds, and we put our older folks in nursing homes so we don’t have to watch them slip toward death. We want doctors and nurses, hospitals and health food stores to keep death at bay. Death haunts us even as our eyes grow dim, our ears grow silent, and gravity seems to pull our body mass from up around our shoulders to down around our waistlines. And we Christians are not immune to this. We even try to hide death from our churches by holding Christian burials in generic, non-religious funeral homes.
In last week’s Old Testament reading the widow at Zarephath prepared to eat her last meal with her son and then die. But God provided food for her, her household, and even Elijah. Today we see that same widow some time later, when her son actually does die. Notice how she kicks and screams when death does come. Is she any different from us? She even blames Elijah, God’s preacher to her: “What have you against me, O man of God? You have come to me to bring my sin to remembrance and to cause the death of my son!” When we face death, we get scared. After all, we face our own sinful condition.
C. F. W. Walther, first president of the Missouri Synod, said this about death: “Death is the most powerful and effective preacher the children of this world have. Though they avoid all churches and despise all preachers of God’s Word, yet one preacher—death—they are compelled to hear. His church is the earth, his pulpit the deathbed, the casket, the hearse, the grave, and the cemetery.” And what sermon does death preach? It painfully preaches what happens when we try to live life without God. That’s the basic human problem. As St. Paul said, “The wages of sin is death.”
Well, after Elijah’s prayer and through his ministry, God brought the widow’s son back to life. And notice how this new life is intimately tied to God’s Word. The widow spoke, not words of blame, but words of faith: “Now I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the LORD in your mouth is truth.” Elijah, the widow, and her son show us God’s pattern. First, we die; then, we live. In the world, we live only to die. But in God’s kingdom, we die only to live.
That’s exactly what Jesus, the Word of God made flesh, shows us today in His miracle. One procession—Jesus, His disciples, and some others—meets another procession, a funeral procession. One is the procession of life; the other, a procession of death. One includes an “only son of his mother,” dead on a funeral cot; the other includes God’s only-begotten Son, the very fountain and source of all life. And notice how Jesus brings life out of death, not just for the dead young man, but also for the widow.
As Jesus approaches the funeral procession, He addresses the widow. You see, her husband had died, and now her only son had died. Her family was gone. Her livelihood was gone. Yet Jesus shows great compassion. His heart goes out to her. He tells her, “Do not weep.” Only Jesus can say that and get away with it, because only Jesus can change her lot. And He does. Remember, He is God-in-the-Flesh. He is the Creator come to re-create and re-enliven His fallen creatures.
Jesus then touches the coffin. It was not a steel box, hermetically sealed to separate death from life. Most likely, it was a cot with a cloth draped over or wrapped around the body. But Jesus touches it nonetheless. And when He touches it, He makes Himself unclean in the death; He identifies Himself with the corpse; He takes the death into Himself.
This only-begotten Son would take all death into Himself when He went to the cross. He went into the very gullet of death to deliver the poison pill—the only poison pill—that could kill death itself. He, the Lord of life, is that poison pill for death. Jesus went into our death in order to free us from it. He died only to come back to life. And in His death, we have life—life with God, life with meaning and purpose, life in this dying world.
So the Word who is Jesus goes to work outside the village of Nain. He tells the dead young man: “I say to you, arise.” Now, we all know a corpse cannot bring itself to life. Only Jesus can bring life out of death. It’s true physically; it’s even truer spiritually. Just as He did at creation, Jesus spoke, and it happened. Jesus’ words do what they say.
That’s why we keep coming here week after week. Here, as nowhere else in the world, we hear Jesus’ life-giving words: “I forgive you. I love you. I give you life. I will take care of you. I say to you, arise.” We come here to have Jesus stop our daily procession of death. We even get Jesus touching us with His very Body and Blood in the Eucharist! On the cross he took our death into Himself, but in the Eucharist He delivers His pure life to us! Talk about life out of death!
“And the dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother.” Once enlivened, the young man did not keep to himself. Once enlivened, the young man was not to live for himself. He began to speak—no doubt about his newfound life. He was given back to his mother—no doubt to serve and provide for her. That’s what life from Jesus means for us too. Once enlivened, we do not keep our new life to ourselves. No, we get to speak the wonderful deeds of our life-giving Savior to people around us. Once enlivened, we are given back to each other—in our families, in our congregation, in our neighborhoods, in our workplaces. We get to serve each other and others around us with the life that Jesus gives to us.
After Jesus raised the young man and returned him to his mother, the crowd was amazed. They kept glorifying God. Wouldn’t it be great if our world of death would look at the Church and be amazed? Wouldn’t it be great if people trapped in death’s clutches could see a place where true life lives on? That’s exactly why God puts His Church in the world. And like the crowd that day at Nain, the Church spends all her time saying, “A great prophet has arisen among us!” His name is Jesus the Christ. The Church exists for one purpose—to tell the world, “God has visited His people.” Yes, He is here, visiting us right now. God comes to serve us in this Divine Service with His gifts of forgiveness, life, and salvation. What a Savior! What a life!
“And this report about Him spread through the whole of Judea and all the surrounding country.” What a great conclusion! Watch how the report of Jesus—His death and life given to make us alive—will go out when we leave this place. It will go with each of us because we are Christ’s people of life. Enlivened here by Jesus, we will go out and be the breath of life in our daily lives. Instead of living to only die, we are dying to live. And we get to show and tell Jesus’ life in our lives.
Let me close with one final thought from Pr. Senkbeil: “If there’s one thing central to living the Christian life, it is the presence of our living Lord with His church. He fills our worship and our life as well. That’s why we’re always dying to live in this world. Daily dying to sin, yet daily rising in Christ to live a new life.” Amen.
03 September 2008
On "Changeolatry"
HT to Fr. Hollywood (again) for a thoughtful essay on the idol of "change" in our culture and in the Church. If you haven't yet see this post, do check it out.
02 September 2008
Homily - Trinity 15
Tale of Two Liturgies
1 Kings 17:8-16; Galatians 5:25-6:10; Matthew 6:24-34
Our Lord Jesus gives us a strong contrast between two kinds of worship. He tells us: “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.” Two different kinds of service and worship for two different kinds of gods. Let’s call it a “Tale of Two Liturgies.” One liturgy serves the true God; the other liturgy serves the “god” mammon, that is, money.
Just as God’s liturgy has an invocation, so does the liturgy of mammon. Mammon’s liturgy begins in the name of the money and of the stuff and of the loads of possessions. But it does not conclude with a comforting, confident “Amen.” No, invoking mammon concludes with anxious worry. Consider the widow at Zarephath. She had “only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug.” And what did she plan to do with that flour and oil? She was going to fix one last meal for her and her son, and then they were prepared to starve and die. How anxious and worried she was!
God’s liturgy has an opening prayer called the Kyrie. Mammon’s liturgy has its own kind of opening prayer too. It says, “In worry let us long for more goods. Lord, give more stuff.” “For the peace of this world and for our prosperity, let us long for more goods. Lord, give money.” Of course, the lord of this liturgy is not the ever-present Triune God, but the ever elusive god mammon who must be served with nothing but anxiety and worry. The prayer continues: “For the things of the world, for the happiness of having things, and for the security of funds, let us long for more goods. Lord, give good things.” “For our retirement needs and for all stocks and bonds and 401ks, let us long for more cash. Lord, give money.” “Make us rich and prosper us, O lord.” But the prayer to mammon cannot end with a trusting “Amen.” No, it ends with an anxious “Let us worry!”
The liturgy of mammon also has its scriptures – a whole collection of writings designed to give us information, very detailed information, but this collection also inspires us to all sorts of worries and frustrations, and even despair. What are these scriptures used in the liturgy of mammon? Checkbook registers and bank statements, investment prospectus books and those dreaded bills that come due each month like clockwork. We use them for records to be sure, and that’s fine, but these writings so often have another affect on us—they cause us to worry and fret as we wonder how to pay the bills or will it ever be enough.
The liturgy of mammon is a liturgy of anxiety. When we offer our worship to mammon, like the widow at Zarephath, we constantly run back to our jars and jugs, our bank accounts and portfolios, to see if we have enough. And what happens then? We see that we don’t have enough. It really doesn’t matter how much we have or don’t have in those jars and jugs, those accounts and portfolios. It’s never enough. It’s certainly never enough to share with others, because, well, we’re afraid we won’t have enough for – you guessed it – ourselves.
That’s why Jesus must remind us yet again: “Do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Oh, we’d like to think that we can certainly abide by Jesus’ words. “Of course, Lord, I go to church. Of course, Lord, I hear the Bible readings, the sermon, and even take Communion. But, Lord, I do live in the ‘real world,’ and I do need to be concerned about my bank accounts and portfolio and bills.” So Jesus gives a shot between the eyes to humble us: “And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his life?” It’s not the size of our bank accounts that matters. It’s not the number of bills we have that matters. The problem is our anxiety, our worry, our habit of wringing our hands in worry instead of folding them in faith and prayer.
You see, we cannot be curved in on ourselves in fear and anxiety in the liturgy of mammon and at the same time be set free, turned away from ourselves in faith toward God and in love toward our neighbor. So Jesus invites us to leave the liturgy of mammon, the liturgy of anxiety, behind us. In fact, He wants us to die to it. He invites us to His liturgy, the liturgy of faith in the Father. Why, even the world around us lives in this liturgy. The little bird in the air does not worry about her food. No, first thing in the morning she gets up and sings her little heart out as she praises her Creator. Then she flies off to find whatever He has given for food for that day. And the little flowers in the fields and along the roads? They don’t worry either. They’re clothed in those bright, joyous colors. They’re here today and gone tomorrow. And yet they live without any anxiety, because God takes care of them. He gives them all they need to be the flowers He created them to be. “Will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?”
St. Paul reminds us: “the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit” (Rom. 14:17). That righteousness, peace, and joy come from our Lord Jesus who did not worry even as He had no place to lay His head. That righteousness, peace, and joy come from our Lord Jesus who went to the cross to free us from our liturgy of anxiety. As He suffered the blows and insults, He did not worry. As the nails pierced His hands and feet, He was not anxious about what would happen to Him next. As He breathed His last, He entrusted Himself into the caring hands of His Father. And then, as He rose again from the dead, He revealed the righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit for all to trust and enjoy. You see, our Lord Jesus sought first the kingdom of God and His righteousness for us, and now all of His good things are added to us. That’s God’s liturgy—the liturgy of faith, the liturgy of receiving life from Jesus, the liturgy of forgiveness for our worry and anxiety, the liturgy of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.
So the liturgy is truly and literally our best antidote for fearful anxiety and worry. It teaches us to trust our heavenly Father for daily bread. After all, He gave us our true daily bread in His Son Jesus, the bread of life. And He continues to give us our daily bread in the Body and Blood on the Altar. He also clothes us with the garment that can never wear out, that is, the righteousness of Jesus Christ in our Baptism. [And we get to see that garment put on Kiera here this morning.] So, if our Lord Jesus gives our true daily bread of forgiveness and life and our true clothing of righteousness, don’t you think that He will also give us the food and clothing that we need for our pilgrimage through this world? Yes, He will, and that sets us free to focus on the one thing needful: Him and His kingdom.
With that freedom, St. Paul can exhort us: “Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith.” Let’s go back to the widow at Zarephath. As long as she looked only at her jar and jug, she despaired. But once Elijah exhorted her to look out from herself, to help meet the need of her neighbor, then she had enough. And notice the pattern there. God did not give her a mound of flour or a river of oil. No, He simply gave enough to fit in her jar and jug. But it was enough, and even more than enough, as she poured it out and gave it away.
That’s the liturgy of faith. Since God has promised to provide for our every need, we are freed from focusing on ourselves. Faith gives birth to love, and we get to focus on our neighbors instead of ourselves. Of course, we do good to all people, but, as St. Paul says, we especially do good to our fellow Christians. Their need is our need. Their hurt is our hurt. Let our joy become their joy. That’s why God blesses us with money and stuff—not to serve ourselves, but to serve and be a blessing to those around us.
That’s the liturgy of faith, the liturgy of receiving God’s kingdom, and His righteousness, and other good things. And to all of that, the best and proper response is a hearty, “Amen”— the word spoken with hands open for receiving from Jesus, with hands folded in faith and prayer, and with hands extended to give to our neighbor. Amen. This is most certainly true.
1 Kings 17:8-16; Galatians 5:25-6:10; Matthew 6:24-34
Our Lord Jesus gives us a strong contrast between two kinds of worship. He tells us: “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.” Two different kinds of service and worship for two different kinds of gods. Let’s call it a “Tale of Two Liturgies.” One liturgy serves the true God; the other liturgy serves the “god” mammon, that is, money.
Just as God’s liturgy has an invocation, so does the liturgy of mammon. Mammon’s liturgy begins in the name of the money and of the stuff and of the loads of possessions. But it does not conclude with a comforting, confident “Amen.” No, invoking mammon concludes with anxious worry. Consider the widow at Zarephath. She had “only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug.” And what did she plan to do with that flour and oil? She was going to fix one last meal for her and her son, and then they were prepared to starve and die. How anxious and worried she was!
God’s liturgy has an opening prayer called the Kyrie. Mammon’s liturgy has its own kind of opening prayer too. It says, “In worry let us long for more goods. Lord, give more stuff.” “For the peace of this world and for our prosperity, let us long for more goods. Lord, give money.” Of course, the lord of this liturgy is not the ever-present Triune God, but the ever elusive god mammon who must be served with nothing but anxiety and worry. The prayer continues: “For the things of the world, for the happiness of having things, and for the security of funds, let us long for more goods. Lord, give good things.” “For our retirement needs and for all stocks and bonds and 401ks, let us long for more cash. Lord, give money.” “Make us rich and prosper us, O lord.” But the prayer to mammon cannot end with a trusting “Amen.” No, it ends with an anxious “Let us worry!”
The liturgy of mammon also has its scriptures – a whole collection of writings designed to give us information, very detailed information, but this collection also inspires us to all sorts of worries and frustrations, and even despair. What are these scriptures used in the liturgy of mammon? Checkbook registers and bank statements, investment prospectus books and those dreaded bills that come due each month like clockwork. We use them for records to be sure, and that’s fine, but these writings so often have another affect on us—they cause us to worry and fret as we wonder how to pay the bills or will it ever be enough.
The liturgy of mammon is a liturgy of anxiety. When we offer our worship to mammon, like the widow at Zarephath, we constantly run back to our jars and jugs, our bank accounts and portfolios, to see if we have enough. And what happens then? We see that we don’t have enough. It really doesn’t matter how much we have or don’t have in those jars and jugs, those accounts and portfolios. It’s never enough. It’s certainly never enough to share with others, because, well, we’re afraid we won’t have enough for – you guessed it – ourselves.
That’s why Jesus must remind us yet again: “Do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Oh, we’d like to think that we can certainly abide by Jesus’ words. “Of course, Lord, I go to church. Of course, Lord, I hear the Bible readings, the sermon, and even take Communion. But, Lord, I do live in the ‘real world,’ and I do need to be concerned about my bank accounts and portfolio and bills.” So Jesus gives a shot between the eyes to humble us: “And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his life?” It’s not the size of our bank accounts that matters. It’s not the number of bills we have that matters. The problem is our anxiety, our worry, our habit of wringing our hands in worry instead of folding them in faith and prayer.
You see, we cannot be curved in on ourselves in fear and anxiety in the liturgy of mammon and at the same time be set free, turned away from ourselves in faith toward God and in love toward our neighbor. So Jesus invites us to leave the liturgy of mammon, the liturgy of anxiety, behind us. In fact, He wants us to die to it. He invites us to His liturgy, the liturgy of faith in the Father. Why, even the world around us lives in this liturgy. The little bird in the air does not worry about her food. No, first thing in the morning she gets up and sings her little heart out as she praises her Creator. Then she flies off to find whatever He has given for food for that day. And the little flowers in the fields and along the roads? They don’t worry either. They’re clothed in those bright, joyous colors. They’re here today and gone tomorrow. And yet they live without any anxiety, because God takes care of them. He gives them all they need to be the flowers He created them to be. “Will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?”
St. Paul reminds us: “the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit” (Rom. 14:17). That righteousness, peace, and joy come from our Lord Jesus who did not worry even as He had no place to lay His head. That righteousness, peace, and joy come from our Lord Jesus who went to the cross to free us from our liturgy of anxiety. As He suffered the blows and insults, He did not worry. As the nails pierced His hands and feet, He was not anxious about what would happen to Him next. As He breathed His last, He entrusted Himself into the caring hands of His Father. And then, as He rose again from the dead, He revealed the righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit for all to trust and enjoy. You see, our Lord Jesus sought first the kingdom of God and His righteousness for us, and now all of His good things are added to us. That’s God’s liturgy—the liturgy of faith, the liturgy of receiving life from Jesus, the liturgy of forgiveness for our worry and anxiety, the liturgy of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.
So the liturgy is truly and literally our best antidote for fearful anxiety and worry. It teaches us to trust our heavenly Father for daily bread. After all, He gave us our true daily bread in His Son Jesus, the bread of life. And He continues to give us our daily bread in the Body and Blood on the Altar. He also clothes us with the garment that can never wear out, that is, the righteousness of Jesus Christ in our Baptism. [And we get to see that garment put on Kiera here this morning.] So, if our Lord Jesus gives our true daily bread of forgiveness and life and our true clothing of righteousness, don’t you think that He will also give us the food and clothing that we need for our pilgrimage through this world? Yes, He will, and that sets us free to focus on the one thing needful: Him and His kingdom.
With that freedom, St. Paul can exhort us: “Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith.” Let’s go back to the widow at Zarephath. As long as she looked only at her jar and jug, she despaired. But once Elijah exhorted her to look out from herself, to help meet the need of her neighbor, then she had enough. And notice the pattern there. God did not give her a mound of flour or a river of oil. No, He simply gave enough to fit in her jar and jug. But it was enough, and even more than enough, as she poured it out and gave it away.
That’s the liturgy of faith. Since God has promised to provide for our every need, we are freed from focusing on ourselves. Faith gives birth to love, and we get to focus on our neighbors instead of ourselves. Of course, we do good to all people, but, as St. Paul says, we especially do good to our fellow Christians. Their need is our need. Their hurt is our hurt. Let our joy become their joy. That’s why God blesses us with money and stuff—not to serve ourselves, but to serve and be a blessing to those around us.
That’s the liturgy of faith, the liturgy of receiving God’s kingdom, and His righteousness, and other good things. And to all of that, the best and proper response is a hearty, “Amen”— the word spoken with hands open for receiving from Jesus, with hands folded in faith and prayer, and with hands extended to give to our neighbor. Amen. This is most certainly true.
30 August 2008
"Blog of the Week" Honor & What's in This Name
"Blog of the Week" Honor
I was just informed that this blog was selected as one of the Issues, Etc. picks for "Blog of the Week" on 29 August 2008 (See it listed here on this date). Thanks for the honor, Todd! (Even if it was merely for posting words from Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a quote that I have appreciated and used for guidance and teaching for many years now. :-)
What's in This Name?
In his comments, Todd said that he would not even try to explain what the name of my blog - "RAsburry's Res" - means. Well, let me help him out by going back to my very first blog post from one year ago. Yes, we're coming up on my first anniversary - 1 September 2007 - of taking the plunge into the blogosphere. Who'd have thunk it! :-) You can find my "historic" (yeah, right!) first post here. Here's the explanation for my blog's title:
I was just informed that this blog was selected as one of the Issues, Etc. picks for "Blog of the Week" on 29 August 2008 (See it listed here on this date). Thanks for the honor, Todd! (Even if it was merely for posting words from Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a quote that I have appreciated and used for guidance and teaching for many years now. :-)
What's in This Name?
In his comments, Todd said that he would not even try to explain what the name of my blog - "RAsburry's Res" - means. Well, let me help him out by going back to my very first blog post from one year ago. Yes, we're coming up on my first anniversary - 1 September 2007 - of taking the plunge into the blogosphere. Who'd have thunk it! :-) You can find my "historic" (yeah, right!) first post here. Here's the explanation for my blog's title:
A word about the title of this blog is surely in order. "RAsburry" - my first initial and last name - has become my trademark of sorts, especially via email. And since many blogs choose to use Latin to show their purpose and direction, I couldn't resist throwing in just a little Latin. In Latin "res" means "things, matters, affairs." So, putting the two terms together, this blog is about matters that strike my fancy, matters theological and churchly, matters weighty and important, even matters humorous and light-hearted - matters that will hopefully interest others and bear witness to the God of forgiveness, life, and salvation.
The matters that interest me most concern the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, for the life of the world - the life that I have received as a pure gift by God's boundless mercy in the forgiveness of sins, the life that I have vowed to deliver to the people whom God has given me to shepherd. This blessed life from the Holy Triune God comes in the Body of Christ, the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. His life in His Body gives new meaning and purpose for all other matters ("res") in all of life.
27 August 2008
Christ Builds His Church
A little something that will appear in my congregation's September newsletter and just happens to speak quite well to the current and quite predominant (sadly so) views of "growing churches" and "mission work" in the LCMS:Christ Builds
After Peter confessed Christ to be “the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16), our Lord Jesus gave this great promise: “I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build My church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Matthew 16:18). Of course, Jesus was referring to “the rock” (petros) of Peter’s confession.
Note what Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer said about Christ building His Church:
“It is not we who build. [Christ] builds the church. No man builds the church but Christ alone. Whoever is minded to build the church is surely well on the way to destroying it; for he will build a temple to idols without wishing or knowing it. We must confess—He builds. We must proclaim—He builds. We must pray to Him—that He may build.
“We do not know His plan. We cannot see whether His is building or pulling down. It may be that the times which by human standards are times of collapse are for Him the great times of construction. It may be that the times which from a human point of view are great times for the church are times when it is pulled down.
“It is a great comfort which Christ gives to His Church: you confess, preach, bear witness to Me and I alone will build where it pleases Me. Do not meddle in what is My province. Do what is given to you to do well and you have done enough. But do it well. Pay no heed to views and opinions. Don’t ask for judgments. Don’t always be calculating what will happen. Don’t always be on the lookout for another refuge! Church, stay a church! But church, confess, confess, confess! Christ alone is your Lord; from His grace alone can you live as you are. Christ builds” (Life Together).
26 August 2008
From "Missiolatry" to "Missionalism" & That Pesky Exclamation Mark(!)
A few years ago Pr. Weedon gave us a poignant essay on "missiolatry," that is, worshiping the mission (as opposed to worshiping, and focusing on, the Savior). Now Pr. Wilken gives us an incisive essay on "missionalism," that is, the ideological movement of being "missional" (whatever that is, especially under the odd grammar of "Ablaze!").
Both pastors warn us about focusing on "the mission" rather than on the Savior and His Good News of sins forgiven and life restored. If you haven't yet seen either of these essays, I highly recommend them for your reading, your pondering ... and your saving for posterity. I'll simply "second" everything they say...
...and then add these random thoughts:
The best way to carry out the mission that Christ gave to His Church is not to focus on the mission, but to focus on Him. When we focus on our heavenly Bridegroom and the life and salvation He brings, we will quite naturally and gladly speak with others about our "eternal engagement" to Him (just as any delighted bride-to-be will show off her engagement ring without needing to be goaded on by anyone else).
When it comes to the official "Ablaze!" theme verse, I puzzle over the choice and use of Luke 24:32, especially the key sentence: "Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?"
When we read the context of these Emmaus disciples, they just *did not* get it; they were slow to catch on that Jesus was with them on the road. In fact, Jesus had said, "O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken!" (Lk. 24:25) even as He stood with them. Then He had to give them a crash course in Biblical theology as they walked. Then, even after that crash course, the Emmaus disciples still did not realize that it was the risen Lord walking with them. They only realized it in - yep, you guessed it - the breaking of the bread. Then comes their "aha! experience."
But the burning hearts? Is that not their own self-admission that they were slow to catch on? Surely that's not the message that the hawkers - er, I mean, "promoters" - of "Ablaze!" want to send, is it?
And speaking of theme verses, I still think that the "Ablaze!" theme verse ought to be Malachi 4:1 (in the ESV, of course ;-): "For behold, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble. The day that is coming shall set them ablaze, says the Lord of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch." As we learn early on in life, we must use extreme caution when handling fire. After all, matches are no toys.
And as for those pesky little exclamations marks, well, thanks, Pr. Wilken for reminding us of our proper grammar and use of the English language!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :-)
Both pastors warn us about focusing on "the mission" rather than on the Savior and His Good News of sins forgiven and life restored. If you haven't yet seen either of these essays, I highly recommend them for your reading, your pondering ... and your saving for posterity. I'll simply "second" everything they say...
...and then add these random thoughts:
The best way to carry out the mission that Christ gave to His Church is not to focus on the mission, but to focus on Him. When we focus on our heavenly Bridegroom and the life and salvation He brings, we will quite naturally and gladly speak with others about our "eternal engagement" to Him (just as any delighted bride-to-be will show off her engagement ring without needing to be goaded on by anyone else).
When it comes to the official "Ablaze!" theme verse, I puzzle over the choice and use of Luke 24:32, especially the key sentence: "Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?"
When we read the context of these Emmaus disciples, they just *did not* get it; they were slow to catch on that Jesus was with them on the road. In fact, Jesus had said, "O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken!" (Lk. 24:25) even as He stood with them. Then He had to give them a crash course in Biblical theology as they walked. Then, even after that crash course, the Emmaus disciples still did not realize that it was the risen Lord walking with them. They only realized it in - yep, you guessed it - the breaking of the bread. Then comes their "aha! experience."
But the burning hearts? Is that not their own self-admission that they were slow to catch on? Surely that's not the message that the hawkers - er, I mean, "promoters" - of "Ablaze!" want to send, is it?
And speaking of theme verses, I still think that the "Ablaze!" theme verse ought to be Malachi 4:1 (in the ESV, of course ;-): "For behold, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble. The day that is coming shall set them ablaze, says the Lord of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch." As we learn early on in life, we must use extreme caution when handling fire. After all, matches are no toys.
And as for those pesky little exclamations marks, well, thanks, Pr. Wilken for reminding us of our proper grammar and use of the English language!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :-)
25 August 2008
Praising Pericopes
Here's a great little piece by Mollie over at GetReligion.org on why pastors should stick with and preach from the lectionary no matter who's in the pews, be it a politician (her focus), a visitor, a babe in Christ, or a long-time member. Thanks, Mollie!
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