Warts and all. . .

Some have been saying that if you are doing live streaming or video during the pandemic, you better not stop.  Some have been bragging that their attendance online is greater than their attendance in person.  Some have even wondered aloud if it is worth it to go back to in person services.  There is a little truth in everything but not much in these statements.

Live streaming and video was never to be a substitute for in person worship.  In emergency times you use emergency means and the rush for pastors to be social media personalities and for worship you can tune into (as well as tune out of) was in response to lock downs and orders that prevented the Church from assembling together.  I am not at all sure that continuing what was done in an emergency is either wise or prudent.  But I am mostly a Luddite (hence the blog) and so what do I know?

Online attendance numbers are grand.  Until you look below the surface, anyway.  For all the high fives and thumbs up, dig underneath and you find the technology has warts.  Few folks watch the whole video.  Few watch it without fast forwarding to the good parts.  In the end, you may celebrate high numbers of people who watch a few minutes but if you think that these people are with you to the benediction, wake up and smell the roses.  Social media may be good for a few things but these things must be accepted warts and all.

Worship is something that cannot be done online.  There is no such things as virtual communion, virtual prayer, or virtual singing.  I am not even sure that listening online can be counted on except for virtual communication and we know how effective that can be.  To presume that people will continue to retain loyalty to and support a congregation whose door they do not darken is risky business.  To presume that people who watch are really being reached, catechized, or nurtured to maturity of faith and life in Christ requires you to swallow hard.

So I have presumed nothing about the video we have posted except that people know we are still here.  I am thankful that 36% watch to the end and that hundreds and hundreds tune in for a minute or two or three.  But I am not ready to say this is a great thing.  A tool, perhaps.  An effective tool?  Still to be determined.  But a substitute for meeting together (even with some physical distance!), never.

If Ye Love Me. . .

Sermon for Easter 6A, preached on Sunday, May 17, 2020.

    The words of our Lord in today's Gospel are not so popular with us.  That is in part because we have gotten over the idea that we need to change anything for anybody -- from spouse to employer, what you see is what you get.  We presume that real love means accepting people as they are.  So, here I am God.  Warts and all.  Sins and all.  Sinful desires and all.  Take me as I am or leave me.

    Instead of worrying about what we ought to be thinking, saying, and doing, we worry more about God’s response.  If we could rewrite the Gospel we would direct it very differently:  “Jesus, will you love me when I don’t keep Your commandments.”  You note there the “when” we don’t keep Your commandments because we really don’t expect to and therefore we don’t try very hard to keep them.  But the Gospel for today is not directed to what Jesus will or will not do.  It is instead directed to Christians like you and me, those who have been baptized into Christ and who confess faith.  “If you love me, will you keep my commandments?”

    Coming in the wake of how many weeks of a shut down economy and a church constrained by viral threat, it seems downright rude for a pastor to begin a sermon by challenging our sincerity or wondering about our will power in trying to keep the commands of God.  But that is exactly what I have to do today.  For this is some thing that should haunt all Christians.  Not why it is so hard to keep God’s commandments but why we don’t want to keep them or try very hard to keep them?

    I will admit that I am tired.  In the past several months I have preached more than 100 sermons and been here from early morning until late afternoon with Pastor Ulrich trying to keep things going and the church doors open for God’s people.  I am not complaining.  BUT that is my job.  I am not doing you or the Lord any favors by being here and doing my job.  But that is also true of you also.  Keeping God’s commandments is not doing God a favor or earning a reward.  It is doing what God has set you free to do.  It is doing what God has given You the Spirit for.   It is the job of the Christian and this is the fruit of the faith that we confess and God’s work in us through His Word and Sacrament.

    The sad reality is that we don’t think about this enough.  We think a great deal about what God is or is not doing for us.  We love to blame Him for what is wrong but we don’t think that much about what we ought to be as His children.  I am not at all suggesting that we presume that being perfect or sinless is within our grasp but being better is not the enemy of being perfect.  We have forgotten that the goal of hearing the Word and receiving the Lord’s body and blood is not simply that we believe in Jesus Christ but that we live in Him the new life that He has given.  This means desiring what is good and right and true and struggling to depart form those things that are not. 

    We see this in Jesus.  His love for His Father in heaven was not a matter of words but of desire and deeds.  From His temptation before the devil to the final steps in His walk to the cross, Jesus is not about His will but the will of the Father to save us.  He insists He is here not to do His own will or bidding but the will of Him who sent Him.  The works He does are not His own but the Father's.   Jesus shows His love for us not with hugs or little gifts or sweet words.  He shows His love for us by keeping the commandments and then counting that righteousness for you and me.  He shows His love for us by carrying our burden of sin to the cross and dying in our place the death that was ours to die.  He shows His love for us by rising again so that we might be people of hope.

    Our love for God ought to mirror the pattern of Jesus love for the Father.  We value God’s commands and we live by what God defines as good and what God condemns as evil.  Our love for God means the desire of our hearts has changed and our attitude toward God’s commandments is different.  His Word is not something we fear or a burden we do not wish to bear but the delight of our hearts and the object of our lives.  Jesus spoke at length about the shape our love is to take and the fruits of that love that glorify the Father.  It would do well for us to pay attention.

    Sometimes the sad truth is that we come to God’s House to get the forgiveness He has promised but we leave without the desire to become the new people His grace makes possible.  Jesus says “Whoever has My commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves Me.”  The faithful are forgiven.  But the faithful should also desire to sin less and to do good more – NOT because these works will purchase our salvation or pay God back for His mercy but precisely because the Spirit is at work in us teaching us to love what is good and right and true and to hate what is evil.

    Do you note the contrast here?  The disciples – including us – are afraid that we will be left all alone.  Jesus’ concern is not that we will be left alone but that we will forget His commandments and fail to walk in them.  Now that ought to stir something inside of us.  There is no chance Jesus will abandon us.  Zero.  But there is a great chance that we will give up knowing, loving, and desiring to be His or to walk in His ways.  It is for this reason that Jesus promises us the Spirit, the Helper or Comforter.  He will manifest Jesus to us and will manifest in us the will and desire to love His commandments and to walk in them.

    Love and keeping the commandments are simply two facets of the same thing.  Obedience is the shape of love.  I do not know why it is so hard for us to think this and I struggle with it every bit as much as anyone.  Yet it is not something we can escape faith, under the prompting of the Spirit, will manifest itself in love for God, for the ways of God, for the things of God, and for the commandments of God.  And this faith and the obedience of faith will result in the end of fear – both fear of God and fear for ourselves.  As John says in his first letter:  “Perfect love casts out fear.” 

    Friends, we have spent weeks hiding out from a viral threat that is unseen.  We have surrendered our fears and our wallets and our lives to rules and guidelines and orders about where we can go and what we can do.  And now some of that burden is being lifted.  We want to be safe.  But there is sometimes and often a tension between our fears and our faith.  Each of us wrestles in our own way with this.  But the threat to us lies not in the possibility of God abandoning us.  The threat before us lies in our abandoning God, surrendering our faith to fear, choosing to love God without listening to Him, and loving Him without walking in His ways.

    O people, dearly loved by God, do not be afraid of God’s will.  Do not be afraid of His commands.  For our faith and love for God are demonstrated most profoundly when delight in His Word and walk in His ways, confident that God will never abandon us and living out every day the courage the Holy Spirit puts in us.  God seeks not the death or destruction of any but that all come to the knowledge of His Son and live.  Of this we can be sure.  Now we will demonstrate to each other and to the world around us, that we believe these words and will walk in His ways, living not from fear but from faith and not for selfish interest but in love keeping His commands.

    May the Lord make it so.  May the Spirit focus the desire of our hearts on all that is good and right and true.  May our wills submit to His will and our purpose to His purpose.  May love not be a matter of words but of the inclination of our hearts in faith and the direction of our lives shaped by His commands.  Amen.   

Communion outside of the Mass. . .

Certainly one of the fruits of the liturgical movement has been more frequent communion.  This has been true for all the liturgical and sacramental churches.  I had thought that this was universally heralded as a good thing.  Some, apparently, are not so sure.

Recently a piece in Forum Letter by the astute Gil Meilaender struck me as not so astute as I have come to expect from him.  In it he berates all the emphasis upon the Sacrament of the Altar and equates it with that dreaded word, clericalism.  Among other things he says:  "By making celebration of the Lord's Supper the sine qua non of the church's life during this time of pandemic, it happens that pastors also magnify their own importance." 

Meilaender is not alone.  Other Lutherans have also been quick to point to a fairly recent past when the Divine Service was, as I loved to call it, a half-mass or dry mass because it ended at the offertory and skipped everything from the Sursum Corda to the ite missa est.  These voices have been quick to tell us to slow down and give up the anxiety about not being together in the Lord's House.  They have talked about the sufficiency of the Word (as if that was really what this was about) and the fact that love for neighbor might mean foregoing even the Sacrament and the weekly assembly on the Lord's Day.  Again, the implication is that pastors are upset because it might seem that they are not all that necessary.  I am not sure whose egos are getting in the way here but after working patiently and indigently for decades to make sure that the Divine Service was Word and Sacrament, it is more than a problem of pastor's self-importance to now suggest that it was never all that big a deal in the first place.

Surprise.  Surprise.  Rome is having a similar conversation.  Some are suggesting that the meal emphasis of the Mass (whatever that means) was not all that helpful and may even obscure the real meaning of the Mass and that for many centuries people communed less frequently without that much of a problem.  Further, some are suggesting that communion within the Mass is not or need not be normative and communion outside the Mass is worth restoring again.  Some Romans have suggested that for a time reception of Holy Communion outside the Mass will once again be the norm.  Maybe so but as a Lutheran I find it odd and curious that there is a problem with people expecting to receive Holy Communion in the Mass and that the only real solution to the pandemic problem and its aftermath is less frequent communion. For some the real center of the Mass is the sacrifice and not the sacramental eating and drinking.  Perhaps Rome was tolerating more frequent communions and the expectation of communion within the Mass when the real problem is that communion actually gets in the way of what the Mass really is -- at least for Rome.

By the way, there are Lutherans who are objecting to Lutherans receiving the Sacrament outside of the Mass (Divine Service) because the Sacrament is either not all that necessary, the pastor is not a private chaplain to a few, or private communions betray the very essence of what the Divine Service truly is.  A Eucharistic fast, in other words, is preferable to many small services multiplied enough to make sure any and all who wish to attend may attend.  My response is that it seems we have some talking to do. . .

Rome will need to figure out where the expectation of communion within the Mass is a bad thing or could be a bad thing or not, whether or not frequent communion obscures the meaning of the Mass.  Lutherans will need to figure out whether or not the and in the middle of Word and Sacrament means what we think it means or not.  I refuse to suggest that the times in which the Sacrament was offered very occasionally and seldom represents anything but a low point in Lutheran sacramental theology and piety.  I am not sure I was ever all that important to anyone but my family but my conscience is clear with respect to finding ways to keep the church doors open during this pandemic and serving those who wish to come the Word preached and the Sacrament administered (as many times as necessary until all who desire to receive both have received both).  To those who might think otherwise, finding a way for this to happen is not an exercise in ego any more that declaring a Eucharistic fast is a choice borne of sinful self-importance.  But I suspect that such conversations will not happen once things return to enough of the normal that parish life is busy with the usual.

A phrase I hope not to hear again. . .

Social distancing is a term that everyone knows and it has become part of the vocabulary of our time -- sure to outlive the viral pandemic itself.  Some may secretly happy that this phrase has been coined.  They may be introverts who prefer solitude to company or people who are simply suspicious of others by nature.  But this is less an inconvenience to be suffered temporarily than it might be a signal of the shape of things to come.

Perhaps my concern is colored by the more carefree time in which I was raised.  After all, as a child I was free and safe to roam where I wanted and to gather with friends as I desired.  My brother and I had free rein to go where our legs could take us -- as long as we were home for dinner.  I lived in a small town in which the folks saw themselves aids and extensions of my parents and they did not hesitate to call me out when I misbehaved.  It was a time when people felt the deeply the bonds of community.  I am surely there were places where this was not so.  But the social connections of my childhood were never distant.

We live in a time when social distancing might have been inevitable even without the corona virus.  After all, long before we were required to keep separate we had begun shopping online and waiting at home for our groceries and goods.  We had long ago learned to work from home where and when possible and watched as manufacturing and other jobs gradually declined in favor of robotic technology and the interplay of the office give way to the virtual reality of the internet.  Social distancing was a phrase we learned but its behavior had long ago begun to be normal.

Our neighbors are strangers to us and even the friendship of co-workers is often left at work.  Even in congregations we seek a certain measure of anonymity and distance.  We would rather sit apart than sit too closely in the pews.  We look for the chance to depart without the obligatory greeting of the clergy at the door and the once vaunted tradition of church pot lucks are not what they once were.  We would rather eat what we want by ourselves or in the small company of our closer friends. Social media has become the way we communicate along with text messages or Facetime -- all to replace the face to face contacts and more personal interaction.

Internet communion is the perfect sacrament for social distancing.  It gives us the appearance of intimacy without all the mess of it.  We can be spectators and enjoy the level of intimacy with which we feel most comfortable.  We can judge the whole experience on the basis of what we find enjoyable and meaningful.  We can search the choices to find just the video that suits us and pursue it without the baggage of doctrinal integrity to detract from our preferences.  And then when it is done, we can go back to our solitude and YouTube channels and Facebook memes.  That is just about how we want it.  We are not only socially distant from each other but also from God.  We are spiritual but not overly religious, enjoying the private rites we prefer without having to engage in any real communion.

The day will come when we will not remember corona virus except as an asterisk in a table of past epidemics but I fear that social distancing is a term that will remain with us still.  And that is not something good.  If we have learned to be suspicious enough of others to turn in those who would dare to violate social distancing, we will not quickly forget how to remain apart.

A New Seminary President. . . Updated. . .

Yesterday the electors gathered to interview and then name the next President of Concordia Seminary, St. Louis.  There are those who might suggest that this is no news at all.  Some may even be members of our church body.  The reason is that some have come to believe that seminaries just do not matter like they once did.  They would suggest that we live in a world of online education and that seminaries need to get with the times and switch to online training of pastors.  Residential education has become too expensive, too time consuming, and too difficult upon students who have to leave home or place of service just to attend the seminary.  Certainly living in the shadow of the corona virus has taught us a few things and nearly every school and every kind of school in America ditched in person instruction in favor of online education.  If it worked for the emergency conditions of a pandemic, why won't it work for normal conditions?  In fact, if it saves us money, cuts down on the time it takes to train a pastor, and is easier on the student, why wouldn't we switch to online education in which a seminary and a seminary president are not quite so important or central to the life of the church as they might have been in the past?

That is my point.  Seminaries are vital for the life of the church and for our future.  Residential seminary education is not some antiquated practice but remains the most profound and efficient way to form men into pastors for service to the Church.  In this respect, electing a seminary president is a very important act for the Church.  We are putting the leadership not simply of an institution but of a process by which candidates are prepared for their lifetime of service as pastors of God's people.  All of this is happening in the strangest of times -- from the corona virus and its impact upon the life and health of the congregation to the growing secular character of the world around the pastor and the people in His charge.  Now is not the time to give up on residential seminary education.  Now is the time to strengthen the seminaries and shore up the educational program which prepares pastors for the Church.

In this time of change, we needed a steady hand at the helm and Dr. Larry Rast has proven to have that steady hand.  Concordia Theological Seminary in Ft. Wayne has flourished under his leadership even in times when residential seminaries are under great pressure.  He has done so largely by maintaining and keeping the focus on residential seminary education.

Ft. Wayne is slightly smaller than St. Louis in residential numbers but St. Louis has a huge online student body.  While the Synod authorized this program, it has evolved in ways that many have found troublesome.  Instead of being targeted toward ethnic ministries where pastors are so urgently needed or small and isolated rural congregations or individuals deeply connected to and needed in the places where they now live, this online education program has been used for those who simply do not want to go through residential seminary education.  This is a matter of great concern by a great many within the Synod as well as a challenge for a campus costly to operate and a faculty that must be sized to accommodate this online presence.  I hope and pray that the election of Dr. Rast will give this a thorough review.

In addition, the chapel is not the center of campus life in St. Louis the way it is in Ft. Wayne.  Since  the liturgical life of the chapel is a significant partner in pastoral formation, this is one area where St. Louis will need to review the practices of the past and the role of the chapel in the life of the community.  One need only point out the full-time staff that assist the liturgical life of the campus community in Ft. Wayne with the single individual in St. Louis to see an example of that difference.

Finally, with whispers throughout the Synod that we may not need two residential campuses, we need a strong individual to advocate for the right path to the future.  While I am not adverse to a chancellor style structure in which a single individual would be President of both seminaries and a certain amount of administrative staff could be trimmed with a unified structure, I am not convinced that this is the right move right now.  It may well be.  Time will tell and those who believe in this will have to make their case.  I can say that I am not in favor of a merger and a single campus.  I do not believe that this will serve the interests of our church body or aid in the training of clergy for our congregations.

Now, of course, the situation has changed.  Dr. Rast, ever the faithful churchman, discerned the calls and elected to remain where he is at Ft. Wayne.  While this is great news for Concordia Theological Seminary, it leaves St. Louis even more up in the air.  Electors meet June 2.  They could elect a president from the remaining candidates or decide to issue a call for new nominations.  We will see what the future holds. . .

SOCIAL distance. . .

I detest that term social distancing.  First of all, it is inaccurate.  It is not social distance that is the object but physical distance.  The CDC is not telling us to button up our feelings and close ourselves off from other people but to observe a set physical distance between bodies.  Whoever came up with the term social distancing was a fool.  The goal is not for us to become super introverts who refuse to look each other in the eye or do not communicate.  The goal is for us to keep some geography between individuals and families when out in public.  But the result has been social distancing – at least for those of the faith.

The rules placed upon churches, not on businesses with that wide definition of essential, but on churches, have stifled the most important social connection we have on earth – our tie to the pulpit and altar of the Lord’s Word and Sacrament.  I have written extensively against the idea that this is an acceptable submission to government and medicine in time of pandemic and do not wish to repeat myself here, however, the cost to the people of God has been greater than we dare admit.  We have been taught not only to keep geographic distance from God’s house and our brothers and sisters in Christ but to be suspicious of them and to fear our assembly around His Word and Table.  In some states governmental officials have actually encouraged tattletales to inform on those who violate the rules.  In others a governor’s order to write down license plates and enforce self-isolation upon those who break the rules has had a chilling effect – even more than the threat from the virus!

No where is this more profound than when it comes to the burial of the dead.  That rite is essentially social, at least in the sense of being the corporate rite of the faithful commending the dead to the mercies of God.  Because of the physical distancing encouraged or ordered upon the people of God, hundreds and thousands of faithful have died without benefit of a public funeral, without the aid and comfort of mourners who accompany their loved ones in grief and hope, and without benefit of the public witness of the Church to the resurrection of the dead and the gift of everlasting life.  I will admit that I do not care all that much about the lives not celebrated – the purpose of the funeral is not to focus simply on the life of the dead but on the One Life that gives hope to those who grieve and a future to those who have died.  Instead, we are left with ten people (I assume the corpse does not add into the body count of those allowed to be present).  Not even an entire family can assemble.

Death is not the only public rite to suffer.  We attended the long scheduled wedding of a neighbor boy who grew up with our own children.  The family from out of town was absent and the chairs across the reception only cried out of the pain of celebrating what is essentially a public event as a private family gathering.  It was early in the pandemic and I can only imagine how many times it was repeated as people watched on screens or listened to audio tracks or simply visited in thought and prayer a rite joining this man to this woman before the Lord and in joyful acknowledgment of His gift of marriage and family.

We had many baptisms planned but only one of them has taken place as I write.  Some were precluded when a neighboring governor forbade his citizens from traveling across the border and others when one or more family members were feared suffering from the virus (they were not) or other reasons.  Baptism is not a private act but a public one – even when not many are present.  The Church gathers around the font to celebrate what the Word promises and water conveys in the mystery of baptismal new birth.  But for many, baptisms, if at all, were small affairs with but the fewest of blood relatives and without the greater assembly of the faithful into which the child was being placed by water and the Spirit.  It is a difficult thing to see something so essential delayed because we were not allowed to gather.

Yes, Jesus says “Where two or three are gathered in My name, there I am with them.”  But that is not meant as substitute for the public gatherings those joined together in Christ on the occasion of the burial of the dead or a wedding or a baptism.  Jesus’ promise is not designed to give us a choice between a couple of folks and many, but to give the assurance that we are not alone – no matter our surroundings.  His words were to give comfort to those times when we could not be together – not when we should not (at least as government and medicine has determined).  There is a difference.  People making a determination that they cannot attend is far different than a government telling them they cannot. 

I long for the day when we can forego that dreaded term and stop looking at those around us as threats to our health and safety.  I fear that the physical distancing will affect our social distance in unhealthy ways for a long time to come.  Nowhere will this be felt more than in the Church.

Little Despots. . .

Not only have governors and other politicians presumed too much their importance.  Bishops have as well.

The Bishop of Knoxville (Roman Catholic) has outlined by what means you may receive the Sacrament in the churches of his diocese.  If you don't follow the rules, you will be asked to leave and must get a permission slip from a mental health counselor before you can return.  Okay.  I made up that last part.  But seriously.  Read it.

In his May 6 decree on the resumption of public Masses, Stika described the “mandatory (non-negotiable)” procedure for distributing and receiving Holy Communion:

“Once you leave your pew/chair you will proceed single file (maintaining 6 feet apart) to the distribution point,” Stika wrote. “Immediately before you reach the distribution point you will remove your protective face mask placing it in your pocket and sanitize your hands with 70% alcohol-based sanitizing gel/solution (which will be on a small table directly in front of the distribution point).”

 “Standing on the floor-marked X (or kneeling at the 6-foot marked locations along the communion rail), you will extend your arms and hands toward the priest/deacon with the palm of your non-writing hand facing up and completely flat supported by your writing hand,” he continued.  The priest, in turn, is to wear “a protective face mask and safety glasses.”

 

Bishop Richard F. Stika of Knoxville, Tennessee, has confirmed in a tweet that the priests of his diocese “will not give Communion on the tongue as per my instruction.” Taking it further, he says that if the person wanting to receive Holy Communion on the tongue “makes a scene,” then “they will be asked to leave and not permitted to return [until] this passes.”

Oh, my.

No loss???

The erudite Fr. Hunwicke apparently is no fan of RCS (robust congregational singing!).  It does not surprise me.  The Traddies of Roman Catholic persuasion see all congregational song as unnecessary at best and unwelcome at worst.  Most are happy enough to have the people sit in silence through the Mass and leave the music to professionals (a choir, even a small choir, or cantor).  I get it.  The hymn is not part of the Mass, at least not since Trent or sometime before.  It does not seem to matter that hymns and hymn singing are older than Trent but I understand it.  Nevertheless, his position and the position of those like him finds it a happy turn of events that some have raised concern about singing and the transmission of the dreaded virus.

I'm not going to crow about 'silver linings' while so many people are dying so painfully from the New Death. But, at least, I do not feel that we are obliged to mourn the criminalisation of RCS.  So Fr. Hunwicke says.  He moved his lips as an Anglican but does not feel he has to as a Roman.  He finds most of the modern hymnody of Novus Ordo dreadful (who doesn't?).  Yet he is ready to lump everything from Savior of the Nations Come to O Sacred Head with Gather Us In or a host of other contemporary Christian songs not worth naming here.  Really?  Talk about throwing out the baby with the bathwater.

He speaks of Anglican disdain for the Eucharist and the (I assume) low church and evangelical side that loves hymn sings.  I am not an Anglican and have never even been to England so I cannot comment on the truthfulness of this assertion.  But his idea that everything outside of Rome (and, again, I presume Orthodoxy) is held together by robust congregational song is ridiculous.  Indeed, the faith has been sustained by robust congregational song.  The sturdy hymns of old and modern ones worthy of their heirs sing the faith into the heart as must as the heart sings them out.  Lutherans rejoice in the robust congregational song not in place or a robust confession but as a means of such confession -- within and outside the context of the Divine Service!  He insists that modern dogma free Protestantism survives because of robust congregational singing but I would say that any dogma that survives the emptiness of modern Protestantism is still there because of the great and sturdy dogmatic hymns that are retained.

Should we collaborate in eliminating this effete and pitiful parody of Christianity?  Fr. Hunwicke asks.  Or, would Christianity be better off without this millstone round our necks [robust congregational singing being the millstone]?  Burn the hymnbooks? he queries.

Strange that such comments come from a former Anglican.  Most of the hymns in my Lutheran hymnbook are English in background.  Most of the favorites of the folks in the pews are English.  Many of the greatest tunes are English.  Hymns get in the way of the faith and are a distraction for the faithful?  Me thinks he doth protest too much.  Perhaps it is hyperbole to entertain with a twinge of truth underneath.  I would hope so.  Otherwise it is an example of why it is that catholic Christians outside of Rome simply do not get Rome at all sometimes.  After all, the perfect Mass must be one online where the priest, assisting clergy, choir, and cantor can do their thing unhindered by the burden of a congregation.  Perhaps, if this is the case, the best Mass of all is one you watch without ever being there in person.  By the way, it certainly makes it easier to make up for that unfortunate option to offer the cup to the laity!  If they are never there, commune outside the Mass, and leave the important stuff to the clergy, it solves soooo many problems.   Or does it?!

Prayer does not live in virtual reality. . .

After spending weeks and months simply trying to keep the doors open, I need to spend some time in thought about the blessings and curses that will follow some of the decisions made along the way.  One of those has been the quickness with which churches have moved to video worship.  This has been a mixed blessing.  On the one hand, videoing the Divine Service has allowed those confined to their homes to know and rejoice that the Church continues to live.  From what I have heard from our members, this has been a wonderful blessing to those not able to attend (whether due to fear of the viral threat or because of comorbidities that make it dangerous).  I will admit that we have intentionally tried not to be too slick in our video expertise.  It is more like a camera replacing a set of eyes than it is a video production.  The sound is not perfect and the focus is not on the pastor but on the chancel itself.  In some respects we have broken all the rules.

The reality is that our people have had a great deal of trouble finding this virtual reality a fitting substitute for being there.  If anything, the videos have only increased the longing for the real thing and made the hunger for the Lord's Word and Table even greater.  All in all I am not sad about this.  That is how video works best -- at least video of the Divine Service.  It gives you the ability to glimpse what is happening in the life of those gathered around the Lord's Word and altar but it does not compete with that reality or even come close to presuming to be that reality.  I know I am not alone in this and I am encouraged when pastors have used video not as a substitute but to complement the focus upon the pulpit and altar.

It is a good thing that our people are offered the Sacrament of the Altar more frequently than ever before and it is a good thing that our people have availed themselves of the blessing of weekly communion.  We may not all recall those days in which the Sacrament was treated like some prefer to encounter a child -- better seen but not heard and, for that matter, better not seen that much either -- the central focus on the Eucharist has come at a cost.  Most of our people know less well the prayer offices that once were much more familiar -- Matins and Vespers at a minimum.  Indeed, I fear that we have become strangers to the shape of our prayer tradition with its focus on the morning and evening offices, the Litany, the Bidding prayer, and the like.  Lutherans once enjoyed the Divine Service as a the main jewel of their life together but not the only one.  It was supported and surrounded by the great prayer offices that had once and still governed our life of prayer.

I have been at a couple of events in which a hymnal was not available and the leader of the worship asked us to pray Matins together from memory.  It did not take long to realize that many, perhaps even most of us pastors, no longer were able to pray the office together without prompting.  If pastors are not able to pull from memory an office once familiar to us all, how can we expect our people to recall and pray this office as well?  My fear is that it is not merely the office that has been lost but the discipline of prayer itself.  If that is the case, then we have our work cut out for us.  Our life together flowing from and back to the Divine Service should not live in isolation from the prayer offices that once defined us also.  In fact, there is no competition here.  Our life together around the Word and altar of the Lord is the source of our rich lives of prayer and petition.  They do not compete.  In fact, if we are doing well in the realm of the Divine Service, then we have the resources and context to translate that devotion into the life of profound and regular prayer.

It is not for lack of resources or forms.  Just the opposite.  We have prayer books up the kazoo and formats to fit every taste.  We have apps that can help us define and live within the life of prayer that ought to characterize us as the people of God.  We also have an abundance of devotional books that would assist us toward that very goal.  But it just may be that our focus on the visual and our fascination with technology and virtual realities may just sink the fruitful desire to be together in prayer.  Prayer does not live well within a virtual reality that presumes to be the same as this kind of real presence.  It suffers from those who believe that watching is the same as being there.  We ought to have used the time we had to live apart because of a viral threat to rediscover and renew our commitment to building a fruitful and faithful prayer life.  Maybe some did but I fear that most did not.  Now as many, if not most, of us are venturing back to the Lord's House, we may find that having forgotten to practice the presence of God in a rich and deep prayer life, we may need to start all over again, asking the Lord to teach us to pray!

You are. . .

Sermon for Easter 5A, preached on Sunday, May 10, 2020, by the Rev. Daniel M. Ulrich

Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

            Imagine, if you will, that we’re meeting for the first time.  We exchange small talk and slowly begin to introduce ourselves.  You tell me something about you, I share something about me.  We understand this social interaction.  We learn to answer that un-asked question that stands behind introductions: Who are you?

            We easily answer this un-asked question, but we have a hard time when it’s asked out right.  We have to stop and think about who we are; how to describe ourselves.  We answer by describing our relationships.  We identify with our family.  We answer by saying what we do: “I’m a doctor, a teacher, a lawyer.”  We answer by describing clubs or groups we belong to.  There are many different ways that we answer this question, but when you stop and look at these answers, you’ll see that most are based on our connections to other people.

            It’s a natural thing for us to understand who we are based on our relations.  God has made us social beings.  In the Garden, He said it wasn’t good for man to be alone.  All of us understand this, so we seek out social circles.  We pick and choose friends.  We find people who are interested in the same things we are.  We look for groups to belong to.  And we do the same thing in church.

II.        We have a habit of “church shopping.”  We look around to see what a church has to offer us.  Do they sing the songs that I like?  Do they have a large youth group for my children?  Is the pastor witty and entertaining in their sermons?  We look for these kinds of things, and when we find the church that as everything we want, we decide to join.  We choose to be a part of the church…at least that’s what we think.  But that’s all backwards; because we don’t unite ourselves to the Church.  God does it.  Christ does it.

            There are some associations we choose, but many that we don’t.  We don’t choose our parents or siblings or children.  We don’t choose classmates, or co-workers, or neighbors.  And in the same way, we don’t choose the Church.  We don’t choose to be one of God’s people.  In fact, we can’t choose this because we sinners.

We’re born sinners, that’s who we are.  Our sinful heart doesn’t want to belong to God.  We don’t want to be one of His.  We don’t want to be associated with Him.  No, we’re hostile to God, wanting to be on our own, wanting to be our own god.  That’s what the first sin in the Garden was, a rejection of God, choosing to isolate, choosing to take His place.  But in this sin what we really chose was death.  That’s what isolation from God is, it’s death.  Life is only found in connection to God.  It’s only found in connection to Christ.  He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  He is the life giver.  Without Him, there is no life.

It’s by God’s grace and mercy that we’re His.  It’s by the power of the Gospel that we’re brought to life and are made His people.  We don’t choose this.  We don’t pick faith.  The Holy Spirit gives it to us.  As St. Peter says, “Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy” (1 Pt 2:10).  You are one of God’s people.  He has made you His own.  God has mercifully overcome your sin that separates you from Him.  He has overcome the death of your isolation.  Through the sacrificial death of His Son on the cross, He forgives you your sin.  Through the waters of Baptism, He connects you to Christ, to His death and His resurrection.  And through Christ you’re brought to life.  In Christ, your identity is found.

You are a baptized child of God.  You’re joined to Christ, and you’re also joined to all those who are in Christ.  You’re not alone.  You’re part of the Church, part of God’s people.  You’re connected to your brothers and sisters in Christ here at Grace, and you’re your brothers and sisters in Christ throughout the world, throughout time.

The Church is because of Christ.  And the Church will continue to be because of Him, because of His forgiveness.  This forgiveness we desire, knowing that we’re sinners deserving only death.  This forgiveness we receive with repentance and faith, right here, in God’s Church, where His Word is proclaimed and His Sacraments administered, the only place where He gives us these means of grace.  This forgiveness we praise, thanking the Lord and sharing the good news of Christ with those outside the Church, so that others would be brought in through the work of the Spirit.  And this forgiveness we share with each other as united brothers and sisters in Christ.

So…who are you?  That’s a question we often have a hard time answering, but it shouldn’t be.  God has told us who we are.  Your identity is found in Him.  You are a baptized child of God.  You are forgiven in Christ.  You are part of God’s people, a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation.  You are a member of His Church.  And you are united together with all your brothers and sisters in Christ for eternity.  In Jesus’ name...Amen.

Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

What is the value of life?

Leap year produced an unusual gift.  The German Federal Constitutional Court ruled on a law passed by the Parliament some five years before that prevented “assistance in dying.”  The Court found the law unconstitutional.  It found for a supreme right -- personal autonomy -- that would guarantee the right to make decisions about one’s death and life unhindered from interference by the state.  This would guarantee the right to receive professional assistance in pursuit of the ending of their lives. This ruling has then opened the flood gates, finding for an absolute and unlimited right to suicide “in all stages of a person’s existence” -- a right that did not require life-threatening conditions or suffering to be present.  The court insisted that the freedom to die could not be taken away from anyone by the state for any cause.  Imagine this -- from a nation still haunted by the shadows of a complacent people to the suffering and death of millions, to the presence of an efficient death machine, and a governmental cover for this injustice.  The memories of this troubled history were not enough to prevent it.  Now a court has enshrined it and given it legal standing that is presumably established law.

How far will we go to desecrate God's gift of life?

Living now in the wake of a most unusual Lent and Easter and living in confidence that Christ is risen, this is worth our consideration.  We see the value God has placed upon life by the giving of His one and only Son to suffer and die that we might live.  We are reminded that the lingering effect of the fall in Eden is the temptation to make life cheap.  But God's redeeming work is to give it eternal value.  What a schizophrenic point of view -- to work so hard to preserve some lives and then to decide that others lives can be ended at will?  Makes you wonder about those who insist that everything must be done to prevent the spread of the corona virus and protect the people while insisting that abortion clinics are essential and the lives taken there a more important value than allowing people to worship!

Lord, have mercy.

Putting ourselves in danger. . .

I must admit that I do not quite know what to do with the statement by some that they either don't feel comfortable or safe coming to worship.  I can wrap my head around the idea of not wanting to put others in danger, although that same sentiment should preclude nearly all travel or time outside the home.  But the question of personal safety or the comfort of one's own conscience is another matter.

The reality is that the Church has been open in time of war, pandemic, plague, economic disaster, and any other kind of threat you can imagine.  The Church is not closed for rainy days nor is she open only when the sky is blue and the sun shines brightly.  Looking back over time, you can see this.  The Church did not only keep open her doors but became a refuge for the hurting, the wounded, the fearful, and the threatened.  That is still the case.

Look around the world and you see Christians who risk life and limb to be Christian, to worship in God's House, and to practice their faith.  The world is a dangerous place and not simply because of COVID 19.  It is dangerous because Christ has real enemies and so we have real enemies.  It has never been possible to be Christian and to be safe -- except in the arms of our eternal Savior and Redeemer.  While we Americans may have forgotten this, there are people around the world who know it as the painful reality they face every day and, especially, every Lord's Day.

We fear disease and death and worry this is a cost too great for us to ignore.  So we have stayed home and sheltered in place.  We complain about the cost of such stay at home orders while we play on the internet, watch movies on our big screen TVs, shop online to be delivered to our door, and grab a meal that will be brought to us.  We have given up less than most and yet sometimes we complain the loudest.  And I am speaking about Christians!

Last year our Synod celebrated 125th anniversary of our first foreign missionary.  His story is compelling.  K. G. Theodor Naether was born Setp. 14, 1866, in Bautzen, Germany. He struggled as a child and did not speak until over 3 years old.  Though he had the desire for mission work, he was discourage all along the way.  In mission school he began learning the Tamil language and was commissioned,   ordained, and sent by the Leipzig Mission Society to India on June 30, 1887

He was expelled over a doctrinal controvsery with his sending society and was urged to contact C. F. W. Walther in America and the Missouri Synod.  After a visit, he was called to be an LCMS missionary to India on October 13, 1894.  At a stop in Germany on his way to India, Naether was engaged to schoolteacher Johanna Naumann of Dresden. In December he left for India and she followed a the next year to the town of Krishnagiri in the Salem district where he opened a school for
boys in August 1895.

Other missionaries left the Leipzig Mission to work with the LCMS and help with the India Mission, including Johanna's brother. The Naethers’ suffer the bitter loss of their firstborn son and daughter, both in June, 1899.  Another two daughters were born in 1899 and 1901 but times were tough and they saw no progress in their mission until the first baptism of a local convert in 1900. 

In the first months of 1904 the plague breaks out in the region. Naether buried a mother and her newborn, victims of the plague, and then collapses himself.  Naether wrote his last will and testament and dressed himself for burial and laid himself in the coffin so that others would not have to touch his infected body and died of the plague on February 13, 1904. Johanna gave birth to the daughter Ida on July 26 of that year before returning to Germany.  He was 37 years old.

In numbers, he accomplished little.  After nine years, the entire India Mission accounted to 38 baptized souls, only a few of which were pagan converts.  But by 1958the India Evangelical Lutheran Church was established -- a partner church of the LCMS numbering over 100,000 Christian brothers and sisters in hundreds of congregations and nearly 80 schools.

His sacrifice was unreasonable by every measure except faith.  His courage would be labeled foolishness except by the Lord who used this man in such a profound way.  His death would be a tragic loss except when judged by the fruits of his work -- fruits he never lived to see!

Are we strong enough to endure our trials with the same courage and confidence in God's sufficient grace as missionary Naether and his family?  Imagine the contrast between people afraid to come out to worship and a missionary who knew the risk and took that risk for the sake of the Kingdom.  I am not at all suggesting that we cast precaution to the wind and ignore medical advice.  But I am asking if our faith is strong enough to let us leave our homes and rejoice to gather again as the people of God around His Word and Table.  There is risk in everything, good people, and the only real safety lies in the arms of our Savior.  I hope and pray that when the day comes and the doors open again, we will not continue to fear the dangers out there or risk going where there are no guarantees but the Lord's and resume our life together within His house, around His Word, and kneeling at His altar.

Nobody knows the troubles I've seen. . .

Sermon for Easter 5A, preached on Sunday, May 10, 2020.

    Though few of us have actually sung the words, every one of us has thought them.  "Nobody knows the troubles I’ve seen, nobody knows my sorrow. . . Nobody knows but, Jesus."  And those who read my Facebook page, Tweets, and Instagram feed.  Because we love to complain and misery loves company!
    Troubles touch the lives of everyone and troubled hearts keep us up at night and weary during the day.  There are those who would try to tell you Christians do not suffer from troubles in life or troubled hearts.  In fact, I believe it is just the opposite. Christians face not only the ups and downs of this mortal life and a world set against Christ and His promises, Christians also face the constant temptation and trials of the devil.
    If we are honest, we will admit that there are days when we are so low, the best we can do is go through the motions.  Like robots, we mask our feelings and trudge on through.  But our Lord Jesus knows the score.  He has heard the litany of our complaints and experienced the trials and troubles of life first hand.  He has not only listened to our prayers for clean hearts but also for the joy of our salvation to fill our empty lives.
    These words were spoken in the conversation Jesus had with His disciples in the Upper Room.  Were His disciples were also troubled.  Of course, they were!  Jesus had just told them that He would be betrayed by one of them, suffer the agony of the cross, and die for the sins of the world.  The context of His words is minutes from it happening.
    Were they troubled?  You bet.  If this was going to happen to the Son of God, what was going to happen to them?  If Jesus dies, where is their future?  If their tomorrow was going to look like the one Jesus had spoken of, they were not sure they wanted it to come at all.
    Well, guess what.  We are just like them.  We have yearned for the day when our lives would return to normal and now the news is warning of another corona virus spike.  Just when we thought it was safe to get a hair cut or eat a bite out, we are left wondering if we ever want to go out again.  Are we troubled?  You bet we are.
    Jesus does not ignore our fears but speaks directly to them.  He does not simply say “Let not your hearts be troubled” or “don’t worry.”  He does not dismiss our fears.  He says “Believe in Me... Trust in Me...”  We might wonder how believing and trusting in Jesus will change what threatens us.  The disciples wondered that too.  Many years ago I visited an older man in the hospital.  He was dying whether he was in the hospital or not.  I comforted him with the hope of the resurrection and eternal life.  His response was “Pastor, I know when I die I will go to heaven but I don’t want to die!”  If Jesus cannot assure us we have the today we want, we are not sure we want to settle for an eternal tomorrow and if He can help at all.
    But that is the point.  It is precisely BECAUSE Jesus has suffered, died, and risen again, that we have a today and it is only because He died and rose that we have any future at all.
    What sin did was not only to steal your future,  but to steal your present.  He left you alone in sin, alone in fear, alone in pain, alone in sorrow, and alone in death.  But Jesus has come to take on our sin, to address the power of fear, to carry our pain, to suffer in our sorrow, and to die the lonely death so that we might pass through death to our eternal life.
    Jesus has something to give us because He died our death and because He lives the life death cannot steal.  He predicted His death and resurrection not to give His disciples another things to worry about but to bring an end to their fears.  Because He lives, we live.  We live now the life that job loss, family turmoil, grief, fear, and even viral pandemic cannot over come.  And we live today the beginning of the new and eternal life that can never be taken from us.  It all began in baptism.
    Sin has stolen our sense of perspective.  The troubles that follow Christians come from the belief that this life is the most real life of all and that if this life is not pretty close to our dreams, we have lost something we can never regain.  But it is just the other way around.  The most real life of all is that life that death cannot overcome and this is the life we have in Christ.  To lose everything in this life but to have eternal life is not to settle for a consolation prize but to get everything that matters.  To live is Christ and to die is gain, said St. Paul.
    Like Thomas we ask “But how, Lord? When, Lord?”  The answer is faith and trust.  We do not need to know the next day if we know eternity.  We do not need to see the path through tomorrow, only to know the One who forged that path to eternity.  Sure, like Philip, we want signs and proof but we have THE sign in the cross and THE proof in the witnesses who saw the risen Lord.  That is what Jesus is saying: I am the sign.  He does not show us the way.  He is the way.  He does not reveal the truth.  He is the truth.  He does not give us the life.  He is the life.  If we have Jesus, we have all things.
    Troubled hearts are not overcome by answers or signs or good surprises or improvements in the fight against COVID 19. Troubled hearts are overcome only by trusting in Jesus and having faith in His death and resurrection.  When Jesus tells troubled hearts to believe in Him, He is not distracting us from how real our suffering is, He is pointing us to joy and peace that is more real than our pain.  The reason peace passes understanding is not because it is not real.  It passes understanding because of the suffering, death, and resurrection of One has come the hope and peace sturdy enough for a world to know and rejoice in.  In the name of our blessed Savior, Amen.