Glory and Shame

Continuing from the theme posted yesterday, about "glory."

We're taught in II Peter 1.4 that we become "partakers" of the divine nature. ("Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises: that by these ye might be partakers of the divine nature.")

Our brethren in the eastern churches sometimes speak about this process as "divinization." Rightly understood, that's nothing more than the fact that we will be returned to the divine glory we partook of in the garden, although it's sometimes misunderstood (probably on both sides) as teaching that we will somehow become gods, or become part of God. That's not what they are teaching.

But if we look back to the garden, Adam was deceived by the serpent into eating the fruit which God had commanded him not to eat of. After so eating, Adam and Eve fashion leaves as coverings for themselves, to cover their nakedness. Now the question: what changed? In other words, they were naked before; why the sudden need to cover?

I'm going to guess that Adam in his innocence (that is, prior to the fall) shone as a partaker of the divine glory, much as Christ shone on the mount of Transfiguration. Not that Adam was god there, but he had reflected glory in that state, and what stood out in that state was the shining glory -- not their nakedness. Suddenly, after the fall, their nakedness stood out as a defining characteristic.

This makes more sense after reading Phillipians 3.19: "Whose end is destruction, whose God is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things." Phil. 3 is often incorrectly read as a command against gluttony, which it isn't. Gluttony is a sin, but that's not what St. Paul is talking about here.

In context, St. Paul is speaking about the Judaizers, who tried to force individuals to observe the Jewish law in order to become Christians. "Those whose God is their belly" is referring to those who demand (against Acts 10) that Christians keep the dietary laws of Lev. 11.

Those "whose glory is their shame" are those demanding ritual circumcision as a cost of being a Christian. "Shame" here equals what we euphemistically call "private parts," in other words, the area of the body we normally don't display to the public. The contrast here is glory and shame, and glory (in NT Greek) usually has a connotation of "shining" as in Hebrew.

In other words, Adam had glory, and lost it. He noticed his "shame," and tried to cover the shame.

"The Sons of Kohath": more on Numbers 4

When the text speaks of "the sons of Kohath" (vss. 2, 4, and 15), this is not meaning specifically Kohath's physical children only, although that meaning's not excluded. In Numbers 4, "the sons of Kohath" means those who are his descendants. The Levites were set aside to minister the religious aspects of Israelite life, and the Kohathites were set aside for this sub-specialty in the priestly service.

The phrase "sons of" doesn't always mean physical descendancy in OT usage. Amos 7.14 uses the phrase, but in that sense it means not physical lineage, but one who is a student of the prophets, or trained to be a prophet. In other words, Amos was a herdsman, and like Melchizedek or Christ, he is one not expected to be a prophet. The sons of Levi, the ones who would be expected to be prophets, are mediately called through their physical birth into the Levitical line, but Amos is given an immediate call, while he was herding the flock.

The Glory of God in Numbers 4

God's glory is a continuing theme in scripture. I think that we tend to mis-read the word "glory," and we think of it in terms of what we do, that is that we "glorify" God, meaning we worship Him.

The Hebrew word has a more physical meaning, indicating a glowing. (This would be consonant with the Transfiguration account, when -- Matt. 17.2 -- we are told that Jesus' face shone like the sun, and that His clothing was bright white).

In Numbers 4.15, Kohath and his sons were commanded to bear the instruments of the Tabernacle, but they were not to touch the holy things, "lest they die."

Most people hearing this in our culture hear this as a command that they not touch the holy things, lest they "be killed." But in a sense, the potential death warned against here is a passive one, in the same way that we might warn someone to be watchful on a highway because they might be killed.

God is not waiting to catch the sons of Kohath in order to kill them. Instead, a death in such a situation is a "natural" one, in which the one touching dies as a result of touching something partaking of God's glory. This was the fear in much of the Bible, of dying as a result of contact with God's naked glory, to paraphrase Luther. Note again the disciples in Matt. 17.6: "they were sore afraid." Likewise in Acts 9.3, a light from heaven shines on Saul, who is said to be "trembling" (vs. 6). Note again the physicalness of the description: Saul is not only afraid, he is shaking. Good Pharisee that he is, Saul knows the warning to the sons of Kohath, that people who touch God risk death. Did Saul in that instance know that in persecuting the church, he was touching God by hurting the body of Christ?

When You Think You're Alone in Disliking "Contemporary Worship"

I'm a sucker for journals and diaries. Not that I'm good for keeping them myself (I tend to lose steam) but I enjoy reading those that others write.

At the moment, I'm in the midst of James Boswell's journal of 1762-1763. Boswell later became famous by writing what many folks consider the best biography in English, his Life of Johnson. But in 1762, he was a kid (age 22 or thereabouts) just in from Scotland, enjoying big city life in London.

On Sunday, May 15, 1763, he wanted to hear a well-known preacher preach. This was his first mistake: don't go to church because of the preacher. That's not all we're there for, not that it's unimportant, but it shouldn't be our first consideration. But -- like most of us, and like me -- Boswell broke the rule, and went to hear Dr. Blair preach in what was known as a dissenting service: a parish that disagreed with the Anglican service.

Boswell was feeling particularly in need of church that day: he went to 3 services. (He wasn't always so faithful: many diary entries recount his searching for prostitutes. As Ecclesiastes reminds, there is indeed nothing new under the sun).

But here is his story for the day:

"SUNDAY, 15 May. I was in an excellent calm and serious mood. I attended divine service in Ludgate Church with patience and satisfaction, and was much edified. I then dined at honest Cochrane's, after which he and I and two other gentlemen went to Dr. Fordyce's meeting in Monkwell Street and heard Dr. Blair preach. I thought this would have done me good. But I found the reverse. Blair's New Kirk delivery and the Dissenters roaring out the Psalms sitting on their backsides [in other words, sitting while praying!], together with the extempore prayers [prayers made up as the pastor went along, not prayed from the prayer book], and in short the whole vulgar idea of the Presbyterian worship, made me very gloomy. I therefore hastened from this place to St. Paul's, where I heard the conclusion of service, and had my mind set right again."

House Churches

When I speak of "house church" here, I'm not meaning house church as it is used in contemporary parlance. "House church" often has a kind of denominational meaning, meaning groups that use the concept of home meetings as a doctrinal statement. Usually, it's a thinly -- sometimes not thinly -- disguised legalism that says it's somehow sinful to meet in church buildings.

What I mean by "house church" is very small, often start-up congregations meeting in homes because a house is the building that's available. Many congregations start up this way, and there's certainly nothing wrong with it: we have precedent in the New Testament: see I Cor. 16.19, Acts 20.20, Romans 16.5, Colossians 4.15, and Philemon 1.2.

Given the demise of orthodoxy, I wonder if churches meetings in homes is a wave of the future. It may not always be ideal: congregations this small can be rife with pettiness and divisions. But we must never forget that large congregations have issues, too. The secret for keeping the "unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace" (Ephesians 4.3) is the twin poles of faithfulness and forgiveness, in whatever setting God has placed us.

Let me sketch out what I'm thinking about. A small congregation of perhaps 5 to 10, maybe more, maybe less. A pastor who is bi-vocational (in other words, he works another job to support himself and his family, on the assumption that such a small congregation is unable to pay him much, if at all). Either acapella music or accompanied by guitar, flute, or a keyboard there in the house.

I'm inviting comments on this. Would you feel comfortable (assuming such a congregation is orthodox, both in doctrine and liturgy) in such a setting? Would you go to such a congregation? And if you are a pastor, would you feel comfortable in a call to such a congregation?

On the Demise of Used Bookstores

When I was a child, there weren't many bookstores where I lived. People then -- 1960s, 1970s -- bewailed the demise of literacy, and thence the demise of bookstores.

But now in 2007, there are lots of wonderful bookstores: think Borders, Barnes and Nobles, among many others. Not to mention such on-line sellers as Amazon.

Paradoxically, used bookstores are dying. Some are selling, and will, I suspect be different after they are sold. I'm specifically think of The Bookstore in Chapel Hill, NC, where I have spent many a pleasant hour, and many a dollar. The store is being sold, owing to the retirement of the owners. I wish them well. They have done a fine job. But I am not a very good customer any more. I don't go very often, and I suspect I'm like many folks: I do virtually (sic) all of my shopping on-line. It's become easy to find the old books I'm looking for in Amazon or other such, and I just don't care to spend much time browsing the shelves. Not to mention that Google and others are scanning in huge numbers of out-of-print, out-of-copyright books.

Will there be brick-and-mortar used bookstores a hundred years from now? 10 years from now? I hope so. But I wonder about their future. But I am thankful that it's easy to get the theology books I want, far easier, and far less expensively than even 20 years ago.

Niche Marketing for Churches

Most businesses specialize. Victoria's Secret doesn't sell bib overalls, McDonalds doesn't sell caviar, and your local landscaper doesn't do interior design.

So how does this relate to churches?

Most church members would like to see more members. At our best, we know that these folks need the gospel, and that their faith would be strengthened by being in church. At our worst, it's depressing to see empty pews, and we would just like to have more folks there on Sunday.

And we wonder how to get folks in. Let me suggest a unique idea: the way to get more members is by using a historic liturgy, law and gospel preaching, faithful administration of the Sacraments, and historic hymns.

This is the opposite of what most people suggest. I'm not saying that this is the only thing you should do. A friendly reception by members, a caring pastor -- all of these things are important. But folks can find that elsewhere.

By concentrating on the liturgy, Sacraments, preaching, and hymnody, a church has carved out a niche in America's relgious market. OK, I am not fond of this terminology either, but bear with me a minute.

The usual suggestions are that the historic liturgy is a barrier to members. Or that people want (what they need is the bigger question, but it's usually phrased in terms of "want") preaching that "helps them out." (Preaching in which the law dominates, in others words). Or that people in America's protestant climate are turned off by frequent communion, or teaching that emphasizes the church's sacramental roots. And especially, we hear that "people don't like hymns any more." That they want "praise choruses," or whatever.

The problem with all of the above is that if we put these ideas into effect, we become like most other churches around. My area of the country (mid-state North Carolina) is Baptist territory, and while some Baptists have not given way to things like the above, many have. And if we implement them, we become just another Baptist church. In itself, that's not a bad thing. But there's a concept called truth-in-advertising. And a Lutheran church that calls itself Lutheran and teaches, worships, and communes like Baptists is Baptist. Let's call it what it is.

If we become Baptist, why should someone go to us? Why not go to the (much bigger, better funded, and with a bigger youth group) Baptist church down the road?

When I see a Lutheran church doing the nonsense of "contemporary worship," I get mad. But there's also a tinge of pity for them. Why? Because they do it so badly. And because they tend to sound like idiots, with bad guitarists, no rhythm, and bad preaching. And I pity them, too, because they have been told that this is the way to get new members, and they can't figure out why in the end they always wind up losing so many members.

We shouldn't do this travesty called contemporary worship because it's wrong theologically. But if that argument won't work, remind them they'll lose members. They won't believe it when you tell them, but it's worth saying.

If Victoria's Secret started selling bib overalls, customers would quickly realize that they could get the product cheaper over at Wal-Mart. And if Lutheran churches start providing Baptist worship and theology, folks will quickly realize that they can get it better at a Baptist church.

The hucksters are always there to push some scheme or the other. Luther suggested that such people should be pelted with dung, and run out of town. Maybe you can't do either of those suggestions, but you can do the next best thing: ignore them, don't buy their shallow books, and sing -- loudly and strongly -- "Lord, Keep Us Steadfast in Your Word."

Another Housekeeping Note

In hopes of making this more readable, I've changed my template. I welcome any comments, suggestions, ideas, or thoughts about the template, or anything else.

What You Should NOT Do for The Church

You may notice in my "what you can do for the church" postings that there is not a word about political stuff. No advice on voting, no suggestions on being a delegate, and none on nominations for synodical offices.

That was no accident.

Not that these are not important, in their place. But ask yourself: with all the political maneuvers that have gone on in the last 30 years in the LCMS, what do people have to show for them?

It's a sobering thought.

If you are called upon to do something, and you have skills and abilities in that area, and are inclined to do it, then do it.

But the important things are the ones I mentioned. The LCMS in not going to "saved" (or however we want to describe it) by packing the votes at synodical conventions. Frankly, I think the LCMS is beyond the point of salvaging, but if you want to do good for the synod, then do what is do-able: and 99% of that is in your congregation.

Faithfully teaching 5 year olds in Sunday school gets you no fame. But those "little" tasks are the ones where you -- yes, you -- can make a difference. Don't worry about the church politicians. Do what you can do, and make a real difference in your life, in the lives of the folks you worship with every week, and in the lives of those around you who need the gospel.

Life is a Hospital

"After baptism there still remains much of the old Adam. For, as we
have often said, it is tame that sin is forgiven in baptism, but we
are not yet altogether clean, as is shown in the parable of the
Samaritan, who carried the man wounded by robbers to an inn [Luke
10:30–37]. He did not take care of him in such a way that he healed
him at once, but rather bound up his wounds and poured on oil. The man
who fell among robbers suffered two injuries. First, everything that
he had was taken from him, he was robbed; and second, he was wounded,
so that he was half-dead and would have died, if the Samaritan had not
come to him. Adam fell among the robbers and implanted sin in us all.
If Christ, the Samaritan, had not come, we should all have had to die.
He it is who binds our wounds, carries us into the church and is now
healing us. So we are now under the Physician's care. The sin, it is
true, is wholly forgiven, but it has not been wholly purged. If the
Holy Spirit is not ruling men, they become corrupt again; but the Holy
Spirit must cleanse the wounds daily. Therefore this life is a
hospital; the sin has really been forgiven, but it has not yet been
healed."

Martin Luther, Luther's Works, Vol. 51

Hymns and Sermons

A wise pastor once said, "Hymns are small sermons."

We should ask ourselves: if we wouldn't allow a particular teaching to be set forth in a sermon, why would permit it in a hymn?

The issue isn't usually (though there are exceptions) with hymns that have gone through a doctrinal review process, and are found in hymnals. It's with the ones folks want to use that they've heard, and think would be cool to use in church.

If a song didn't make it into the hymnal, there's often a good reason why it didn't. Of course, new hymns are being written all the time. Some of those will -- at some point in the future -- be included in a hymnal. But before using an untested song to be used in the Divine Service, ask: would I say this in a sermon? Or would I find this acceptable teaching if I heard a pastor say this in a sermon? And if not, why would we sing it in a song?

Just because a song has words like "Jesus" or "pray" or whatever doesn't mean it's good. Listen carefully. And when in doubt, leave it out.

What You Can Do for the Church, Part 2

5. Encourage those who are doing good. This is not limited to pastors, although it is certainly true for them. Nothing is rarer than hearty thanks, and you probably will never know how much your thanks, praise, and encouragement means to those who get it. Whenever you can, of course, you should seek to educate and correct those who are erring. But never forget to praise those who are on the right track. All of us get discouraged in doing good; that's why St. Paul writes (Gal. 6.9) to let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not."

6. Participate wholeheartedly in church. The main thing here is the Mass: listen attentively, sing wholeheartedly, and pray without ceasing. Pray for those around you, and pray for the pastor doing the service. But participate in other things as you are able: teach Sunday school, work with the youth, visit the sick, "whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might." (Eccles. 9.10) We all have limits on time, and most of us have family responsibilities and work that has to be done. So pick judiciously, do what you are good at it, but help in the task of God's church.

7. Don't gossip. It's easy to do, but there are few things as corrosive as gossip, few as damaging to God's church. When someone starts to tell you something bad, ask if they have talked to the individual. And even if they have, ask them what purpose is served in telling you. Keep short accounts. It's easy for us to damage our relationships with our brothers and sisters in Christ, and we need each other.

8. Forgive, and be forgiven. We stand in constant, daily need of God's forgiveness. So forgive quickly, and be quick to receive God's forgiveness. One of the most insidious violations of the first commandment is to make ourselves our own God by thinking that we have no need of forgiveness from God, that we must somehow make ourselves better before we come to God. Christ died for sinners -- don't seek, no matter how important you think you are, to be too good to be forgiven. Virtually no one makes use of private confession and absolution, but this is as good a time to start as any. Go to your pastor, and ask to make confession. Very likely, your pastor will be new to this, too, but both of you can learn. Use the order for private confession, and confess your sins. This is not for the "big" sins (although it's for them, too): it's for all sins that are troubling you. Confess them, and be assured of God's forgiveness.

9. Make use of the means of grace. You are baptized, so remember your baptism daily, and make the sign of the holy cross. Receive Christ's Body and Blood frequently for your forgiveness. The faith you have been given is not some kind of intellectual exercise: your Savior gives you His Body and Blood. Rejoice in that gift, thank God for that gift, and be blessed in the mercies of God your Savior.

What You Can Do for the Church

It's easy to get discouraged about the church. We live in terrible times, terrible insofar as being a time of doctrinal sinkholes. But there are things individual Christians can do to strengthen that (Rev. 3.2) remain.

These things don't require you to be a pastor, hold a theology degree, or even be particularly intelligent. What they do require is faithfulness. Here are some ideas of things you (yes, you) can do.

1. Pray. When I was younger (that was a long time ago) I heard a speaker suggest that when we get to heaven, we will be shocked at how little we prayed. I think he was right. So try to remedy that situation. Seek to pray every day for the church. Getting up 15 minutes earlier can do wonders. When you have time (and 15 minutes can easily make this work) pray one of the Responsive prayer services in your service book. Or use the morning prayer service. And when time is short, use this very short, but wonderful order of prayer: Trinitarian invocation with the sign of the cross ("In the name of the Father," etc.), then recite the Creed, pray the Our Father, and close with Luther's morning prayer ("I thank you, my Heavenly Father, through Jesus Christ, your dear Son," etc.) If you don't know these by heart, set about learning them now.

2. Learn. Know your Bible. If you can read one chapter a day (not a stretch) over the course of years, your reservoir of Bible knowledge will astonish you. Of course, knowing the Bible is not simply for the sake of knowing your Bible: knowing the Bible helps you know the Author of the Bible.

3. Learn doctrine. Start by reading the Confessions, perhaps going back over the Small Catechism, and then go through the wonders of the Large Catechism. Read doctrinally sound teachers. Challenge yourself. Read something that's not easy, something that requires you to be engaged in the argument. When something doesn't make sense, ask someone to help you understand it.

4. Learn the church's hymnody. One of the ways we worship with the church of all ages is to sing what they have written and sung. A good way to do this is to take a hymn that you liked from the previous Sunday, and sing it every day. If you can, sing it with someone else. Maybe your children, your spouse, or a friend. If you can't, sing it to yourself. Maybe you could sing it when you do your prayers. And a head's up here: I've never known a congregation that would object to your taking a hymnal home with you. That's what they are there for.

5. Teach. Maybe you don't have official teaching responsibilites. Maybe you do. But whatever your official responsibilities, teach whenever you have opportunity. When someone clearly wrong, gently correct them. If you have children, teach them. If you are married, teach your husband or your wife. This can and should be done in a kind and helpful manner. Just believe that God has placed you in whatever position you are in, and seek to help those around you.

More tomorrow ...

How to Deal With the Easily Offended

Virtually everyone has been on the receiving end of this statement: "I was offended because you--"

You can fill in the blank. "You made the sign of the cross." Or: "You have communion every Sunday." Or: "You chanted the introit."

Whatever it is, the question is how to deal with those offended by things that are either just part of catholic Christianity (such as chanting the introit) or are a part of being a confessing Lutheran (such as the sign of the cross, or the Mass).

The "offence" doesn't go the other way. Or at least it's usually not said out loud. No one says, "I'm offended that the congregation doesn't sign themselves with the cross." No one grumbles, "I'm offended that you only celebrate Holy Communion twice a month." No one mutters, "I'm offended that you don't use incense with your prayers."

I wish I could be more sympathetic with the offended. I used to be. I used to listen more patiently, hearing silently the endless tales of their offense.

I'm not very sympathetic now. When folks complain, I usually think, not unkindly, "Then go somewhere else." If you are offended because our Mass [another "cause of offense" to some, but that's another issue] seeks to be what the Mass has been throughout the Church, then I don't know what to tell you, except that it's not going to change, and that maybe you are offended because you are weak. (See Romans 14). And if you are weak, it is my job to be kind to you, to pray for you, and to instruct you. But it is not the job of the church to change because of how weak and erring brethren feel.

The 2007 LCMS convention

I don't like to ponder church politics very often. Most people who obsess about politics -- of any variety -- are fairly marginal individuals, and in the end we usually discover that very little of what good is done in life is done through politics. (Jotham's parable of the trees in Judges 9 is something we should probably read before every election day).

But church politics crops up sometimes, and now that the LCMS' every-3-years convention is coming up this summer in Houston, once again we hear confessional Lutherans in the LCMS trying to rally the troops, and turn around the LCMS. We heard similar cries in 2004, in 2001, in 1998, etc., etc. Doubtless we will hear them again in 2010.

But the reality is that nothing of the sort will happen this summer, or at any convention, except that a huge amount of time, energy, and motion will be expended on political intrigues. I was a delegate at the 2004 convention. I saw what happened on both sides of the fence. And the LCMS' overwhelming protestant majority became more entrenched. That's going to happen again this summer.

For those who have not given up on the LCMS, I think it's important to do some clear thinking about will be done. At what point will confessional Lutherans leave the LCMS? What is the point at which they will say, "This far, and no further"? Because if we have no clear line, then there's virtually no limit to what will be done, if the LCMS' current leadership thinks that confessionals will not leave.

Romans 16 is clear: "Now I beseech you, brethren, mark them which cause divisions and offences contrary to the doctrine which ye have learned; and avoid them. For they that are such serve not our Lord Jesus Christ, but their own belly; and by good words and fair speeches deceive the hearts of the simple." "Staying and fighting" is not an option given by St. Paul. At what point will we realize that there are clear "divisions and offences" in the LCMS, and avoid those causing them?

Conflict Resolution in the LCMS

In any relationship, there are going to be conflicts. Any. When someone tells you that they've been married for (fill-in-the-blank) years, and they've never had an argument, you can know one of 2 things. Either someone is lying to you (very likely) or someone has been run over more times than they can count. Maybe both.

The question to a healthy ongoing relationship is how conflicts are handled, how they are dealt with, and how the issues in conflicts are resolved to work into the future.

The Missouri Synod, like a dysfunctional family, has poor conflict resolution skills. This is related to my earlier post about anger in the synod: the LCMS seems to have this cauldron of seething rage that just never gets resolved, that just sits there waiting for the next issue to come up and scald the individual or group who has the misfortune to jar the pot lid.

I've commented before on the lack of doctrinal trials in the LCMS. This lack is quite literally insane: no one can expect a church body over 150 years old with thousands of congregational and clergy members to not have some bad eggs in the mix. But there is something in the LCMS culture that wants to pretend that there are no bad eggs, no heretics, no issues needing resolution.

I know of only one (and I would appreciate correction here where I am wrong) case where there was even close to a trial. Paul Bretscher, the LCMS' well-known unitarian was finally -- after writing published books in which he denied the Trinity, denied the deity of Christ, and mocked what he termed errors in the scriptures -- ordered to face a doctrinal trial. He resigned from the LCMS before the trial began. A disciple of his -- who shared in Bretscher's errors, and wrote a foreword to a unitarian book Bretscher wrote -- likewise resigned in the wake of this.

In my earlier post on anger, I mentioned Kenneth Korby's suggestion that the late 1960s, early 1970s issues in the synod were behind much of the mistrust which seems to be everywhere in the synod. I wonder if that's what happened, or if the issues of some 40 years ago were not merely symptoms of the earlier problems.

The LCMS, like every American institution, has been affected by a laissez-faire attitude, an attitude which suggests that there are no doctrinal boundaries, no firm truths, no black and white issues. There's also an underlying fear in the synod, that leaving the LCMS is somehow leaving the place of God's salvation, that splitting or dividing the synod is tantamount to heresy itself. For a group which claims Martin Luther as a Father, this is an odd attitude.

What's the healthy response to conflict? Perhaps admitting to conflict is the first step. Going a step further, perhaps admitting that the resolution to many of our issues might involve an announced, amicable division of the synod (and the synod's assets) would be good. (The LCMS is not a marriage. Even her most steadfast apologists admit that the synod is an organization of human design, not The Church. Splitting such an organization is, to put it bluntly, like dividing a garden club).

It's not a sin to divide a synod. Such a division is going to involve sin, because it would be accomplished by sinful men. But a division itself is not wrong. And such a division would publicly admit the truth: there are already divisions in the synod. Pretending they are not there is just dumb.

A Request for Prayers

I've never liked it when people asked me, "Please pray about so and so." Because I so often forget to do so, and then feel guilty. (And I remind myself that when I feel guilty, it's often because I am guilty. No smiley face on that one. I am serious).

But having said that, here's a prayer request. I'll phrase it this way: when you think about this, please shoot up a quick prayer about this.

It's to pray that church bodies will be faithful on the matter of the ordination of women. Several church bodies usually thought to be OK on this are struggling with it now. Resisting the siren calls of pseudo-feminism for the ordination of women is difficult in our time. May God grant all of us the courage and strength to faithfully confess what He has commanded. Even when it is not easy to do so. Especially when it is not easy to do so.

Housekeeping Note

OK, so it's Saturday night, and here I am in front of the computer. But my excuse is that my wife and youngest daughter are away in Tennessee visiting friends (our oldest, Matt, lives in Raleigh, NC now, and our two middle daughters, Katie and Alex, are in college in Chapel Hill, NC), and I'm here all by myself, so I had some time to work.

I've spent the last hour or so cleaning up links on my blog. I'm hoping that my writing will be easier to read now.

And please: if at any time something doesn't make sense, or doesn't read well, let me know. I would genuinely appreciate your pointing things like that out to me.

Have a good Sunday!

Children of Men

When I read P. D. James' novel The Children of Men a few years ago, I was taken by the powerful story she told of a post-apocolyptic world in 2027 where women are unable to bear children, and the literally dying world is sinking into a miasma of chaos and violence.

I thought this power-filled story was one of those that was too vast, too all-encompassing to be told in a film. I was wrong.

Tonight, I saw the Alfonso Cuaron film based on the book, entitled Children of Men. The movie is at once more disturbing and more hope-filled than the book, replete with Christ symbols. I was in tears. If you can, see this on a theater screen to catch the full vision of the action and the scenes: especially the powerful Nativity scene.

Advancement and the Problem of Seminaries

The problem of seminary education in the LCMS is the flip side to the benefit. The problem is that men are taken out for 4 years for training. They are given a good education, and are well-equipped on a number of levels for the Holy Ministry.

But I wonder if the seminaries are sometimes a cork in the life of the church. Taking 4 years out of one's life is a sizeable chunk. The older and more settled (think career, family, children, etc.) that one is, the more difficult it is for gifted men to take those 4 years.

I'm told that there was once a mistrust of second career men, those who had been in another career, and then gone back to seminary, and become pastors, so much so that the seminary now in Ft. Wayne -- then in Springfield, IL -- had a reputation of being academically inferior to the one in St. Louis.

The question I'm asking is how can the LCMS deal with the issue of men who have gifts and talents that could be used in the Holy Ministry, but cannot take off the 4 years for seminary?

Somebody's going to argue that anyone could take the time off if it was a real priority. OK, I won't argue with you on that. But the reality is that there are men who -- for example -- have several children, or children in college, or who are in debt, or whatever, for whom the 4 years is a real and seemingly insurmountable stretch.

2 years ago, I argued here that there should be alternate routes to training men for the Ministry. Ironically, it's often those who take theology seriously who are most opposed to any alternate routes. But things have really changed in even the last 25 years as far as educational technology and innovations, and I wonder why the LCMS still trains men solely as if it was 1943.

I'm currently in the midst of the following book.

This book is well-written, tightly argued, and tells a good story about the Primitive Baptists in the mountains of North Carolina and Virginia. ("Primitive" in that context means "original," or "first").

I'm intrigued by the PBs, though I disagree with them on a lot: they are fiercely (and unbiblically, I think) Calvinistic in their view of predestination, and they are legalistic on matters about worship.

They also argue that since there are no seminaries in the Bible, it's wrong to have them now. They believe that men should be called to the ministry out of the midst of a congregation, and their ministerial training is a mentorship.

My experience with ministers who are not seminary trained has been that they are often under-educated. I assumed the same with the PBs. I was wrong. The authors of this book -- anthropologists who are not PBs -- found that the PB ministers (or "elders") they encountered were usually theologically knowledgable and biblically grounded, and their preaching was often skillfully crafted.

So back to my original question: why couldn't the LCMS do something like this? With inexpensive books (far cheaper, on a constant dollar basis, than even 20 years ago), fast-access internet, inexpensive phone communication, and the ability to duplicate materials such as CDs easily, why could there not be alternatives to the 4 year seminary process? No one's arguing that it's somehow wrong or sinful to have seminaries; they are good, useful, and a blessing to the churches. But there are other ways this could be done. Why haven't we -- except on a very limited basis -- done it?